#THANKING GOD MY FUCKING LECTURE IS ONLINE AND MY FUCKING CAMERA IS OFF GOOD GOD

[crimsonbubble]

when i break out of a daydream and realize i was smiling like a lunatic during my fucking lecture

[hyuckshaze]

zoom shenanigans - l.dh

✩‌ haechan ‌x‌ ‌fem!reader‌ ‌|‌ boyfriend!haechan | smut | ‌1.6k+ words ✩

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you don’t quite know how hyuck convinced you to sit on him while in a class zoom call

WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ exhibitionism, unprotected sex, dom!sub themes, asphyxiation, edging/overstimulation, spitting, slight humiliation, degradation (use of words such as whore, slut etc.), dumbification, slight dacryphylia, salirophilia, dirty talk - basically pure and absolute filth!

AUTHOR’S NOTES ⇾ i couldn’t stop thinking about this throughout the entirety of my online classes today, so i just had to write about it to get it off my chest. i am an absolute slut when it comes to dom!hyuck, so this is just self-indulgence really. enjoy! not proofread so please message if there’s any errors, or anything missing from the warning list! - lex

You don’t quite know how Hyuck convinced you to sit on him while in a class zoom call. 

He’d driven you insane. You’d been sat on his cock since the start of your lesson, for which your teacher, thank God, had decided that cameras did not need to be on. The class only lasted an hour, with you sitting on his lap in his gaming chair because ‘your desk chair just isn’t comfy enough, Y/N’, according to him anyway. You thought your desk chair was perfectly comfy, but he insisted. 60 minutes doesn’t seem all that long in the grand scheme of things, but with a boyfriend as evil as Donghyuck, of course he knew just how to make that hour feel like an eternity, teasing you relentlessly throughout. His lips brushing against your ear as you tried your hardest to complete the set work, whispering unspeakable promises into your ear and sending dark shivers down your spine. Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew the exact expression that was plastered on his face as his wandering hands roamed your body, squeezing and pinching all the spots that he knew would have you squirming in his hold. By far, the most infuriating thing he would do, though, was to snake his hand around your body whenever you had to turn your microphone on, fingers rubbing your clit in circles that had you biting back loud and sensual moans, managing to suppress the noises down to sighs which, as a University student, were not all that uncommon to hear. 

It’s when the time hits 11:50am, exactly 10 minutes before the end of the lesson (you know because you began checking it, what seemed like, every few seconds, sensing his growing impatience), that his self-control evaporates. With a raspy grunt, his hand wraps around your neck and he thrusts up into you, hard, fast and rough. You gasp, face contorting in pleasure at the sudden movements which have you crying out and grasping at the desk in front of you in order to stay upright. You whine as his grip on your neck tightens, pulling you back towards his chest in one, swift movement. A yelp escapes your lips, now blindly grabbing at the armrests on either side of the chair in order to stop your legs from giving out. Not that you’d go anywhere, Hyuck’s rigid grip on you made sure of that. His hot breath against the back of your neck caused goosebumps to form on your exposed skin, a shudder going through your body at the overwhelming amount of pleasure. His hand on your neck pushes your jaw backwards, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as he looks down at your flushed face, tears of pleasure collecting at the corners of your wide and innocent eyes, perfect pink lips parted so beautifully, not to mention the dream-worthy sounds escaping them. How could he have ended up with such a perfect little girl? His hand moves for only a split second from your neck, squeezing your cheeks together in order to open your mouth. He spits harshly into your now open mouth, pressing your cheeks shut again afterwards. You let out a sudden and uncontrollable moan at the sound of him doing such a filthy thing, feeling his spit hit your tongue forcefully. You know what he wants. You close your mouth and swallow, his hand creeping back down towards your neck as you show him your empty mouth.

“That’s my good girl.” He rasps, giving a tight squeeze to your neck once more.

With your eyes squeezed so tightly shut, you almost forget that you’re supposed to be listening to your Biomedical Sciences lecturer drone on about Haematology and Transfusion. Almost.

“Right, now that’s done, everyone turn your cameras on for this last task. We’re going to be going through the homework assignment that I set for you all last week, don’t think you can get away without speaking either! I’m gonna be asking you all questions about the task.” His words barely register in your mind, your head fuzzy and body shaking at the feeling of your boyfriend rearranging your insides so delectably. After a few moments, his words seem to sink in and your eyes shoot open, urgently whispering Hyuck’s name. There was no way you could turn on your camera, you’d have to lie. I dropped my laptop; my WiFi is lagging; my room is a mess. A thousand ways to excuse yourself ran through your mind, albeit at a much slower pace than usual. You could only focus so much through the feeling of Haechan fucking into you so hard and fast. Your desperate whines of his name are interrupted as he hums into your ear, not slowing his hips or showing any sign of stopping. If anything, it becomes even harder to think at his words.

“We both know that’s not what you call me when I’m fucking you, baby.” He growls into your ear, pounding into you with even more force, rendering you barely capable of thinking, let alone talking. Your walls clench tightly around his hard cock, a string of curses escaping your boyfriend’s pink lips as he grunts loudly at the feeling.

“M-my professor s-said-” You start, barely able to string a sentence together.

“I heard what your professor said, baby. Turn on your camera. Show your entire class how much of a filthy little slut you are for me. Show them how this perfect A* student cums all over my dick, huh? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Everyone seeing the perfect little teachers pet coming all over her boyfriends cock during her class? Everyone seeing how fucking dumb you get for my dick?” You bite your lip, holding back a scream. You can’t, however, stop a broken whimper from escaping you.

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Please, oh my God!” The hand that isn’t clutching your neck so tightly moves downwards, fingers brushing your clit so delicately.

“Please... Please what, slut?” He spits, tears now leaking down your face, chest shaking as you hold in overwhelmed sobs.

“Please Daddy!” You cry out, mascara beginning to smudge as you clench your eyes shut so tightly. You no longer care about your waiting professor, you no longer care about the entire class, it’s only Haechan. He is all you can feel and think.

“Y/N, we’re waiting on you to turn your camera on...” Your professor presses, but you don’t even hear him. It’s only when your boyfriend stops all of his movement, hand slipping away from your throat, reaching down and reclining his gaming chair into a laying position, that you realise what he wants.

“No, no, no. Please, Hyuckie!” You whine, head spinning at the loss of movement. He’s laying practically flat now, out of view of the camera. You try to move, rolling your hips atop his dick but his fingers dig into your hips hard, almost painfully, as he holds you in place, smirking up at your shaking figure with mirth.

“Go on, baby. Turn on your camera.” He warns, fingers digging even harder into your hips. You send him an exasperated look, to which he gives you the look. You know what that means. ‘Do as I fucking say, or you’ll regret it’. 

Your shaky hands reach over to the laptop, clicking the camera button as you let out an uneven breath. After a few seconds, your face appears on the screen. Your eyes widen. What your boyfriend had failed to inform you, was that your face was flushed and sweaty, mascara smudging your cheeks in obvious tear streaks, a drop of his spit glittering as it sat upon your chin. You wiped your face on your sleeve as soon as you catch sight of yourself, moving forward to pretend to be sorting a non-existing wire behind your screen as you try to make yourself look more presentable. As you do so, you hear his voice whisper.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you called me just then and don’t think you’re getting away with it. ‘Hyuckie’ doesn’t fuck you the way Daddy does.” His low tone causes you to clench around him, taking a deep breath at his teasing words. He scoffs at your silence, squeezing your ass, hard, so that you let out a small whimper. He hums in satisfaction as you plaster an obviously fake smile onto your face before leaning back, clicking on the unmute button for only a moment before abruptly turning it off again, barely having finished your sentence, as Haechan’s rock hard dick twitches inside your sensitive pussy.

“Sorry, Professor. I had tech issues.” 

✩  ✩   ✩

Those last 8 minutes of class felt like an eternity, and your boyfriend made sure of that. You thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it, though. Not one person gave you a funny or disgusted look as you answered the Professor’s questions and kept a small, albeit forced, smile on your face. You couldn’t help but feel a twisted form of pride at your ability to pretend as though nothing was happening as you sat atop of Hyuck’s dick, enduring his endless verbal and physical teasing throughout.

It wasn’t until after the two of you were finished, long after the class had done so, that your boyfriend checked his phone

“Y/N...” You heard him call from the bathroom. You couldn’t find the energy to move, simply humming in acknowledgement at his hesitant-sounding call. He enters the bedroom in all his naked glory, carrying a small, wet cloth in order to clean you up in one hand, his phone in the other. Your eyes trace his naked body, focusing on the smooth, tanned skin. He really was a sight for sore eyes, somebody that you could never get tired of looking at. You’re disrupted from staring at his body when he holds his phone out in front of your face. You reluctantly tear your eyes from his torso, focusing in on the brightly lit screen, squinting slightly to read the text upon it.

“ 

MESSAGES

Jaemin

fucking your gf during her zoom class, nice one bro. though, you might wanna make sure that you actually hang up next time. the whole class was still there, apart from the prof. not that they’re complaining, i saw their faces. they’re gonna be getting off to that for the entirety of lockdown, i swear! 

“

Needless to say, nobody in class called you the Teacher’s Pet anymore.

✩   ✩   ✩ 

[entishramblings]

LOTR/TH Characters Interrupting Your Zoom Classes [Legolas, Aragorn, Kili]

A.N: so this has been on my mind FOREVER and I just needed to get it out. Also I’m from the US and I’m not sure exactly how other countries are handling corona and online classes so I’m sorry this is not what it is like for you.

(not all gifs are mine)

LEGOLAS

(Y/N) was up extremely early for her 8am class. Her hair was in a messy bun with loose strands hanging out in an unkempt manner. Her eyes felt heavy, the dark circles clearly showing up on the camera as she sat at her desk sipping on a dwindling cup of hot tea. Her professor/teacher droned on and on about a topic that she was too tired to understand, yet she still continued to scribble down incomprehensible notes.

Suddenly, she felt large muscular arms wrap around her from behind. A soft kiss was planted on her cheek as long blonde strands fell around her face.

“Good Morning, meleth nin (my love).” A gentle voice whispered against her skin.

A soft smile pulled at (Y/N)’s lips as she hummed in response. The contact of Legolas’s bare chest warmed her form and initiated feelings of security and love.

“Why are you up so early? You need rest, you have been up late into the night for the past week,” he muttered.

(Y/N) sighed not realizing that the sounds of the lecture faltered, “I have class, remember?”

“Of course I remember. I just wish for you to take care of yourself.”

Legolas’s arms regrettably slipped from her body as he stood up straight once again. “Here, let me make you more tea.”

The elf carefully reached across the young woman and grasped onto the nearly empty mug before exiting the room.

“(Y/N)? Care to keep your shirtless boyfriend out of the screen?” The professor/teacher called out in a teasing tone.

A handful of laughs and giggles echoed through her computer at the professor’s comment. (Y/N) could feel her cheeks heat and turn bright red for she had completely forgotten her camera was on....thank god that she had been muted! With wide eyes she quickly scanned the tiny screens of her classmates—all expressing surprise, shock, and disbelief.

“Who knew (Y/N) had a boyfriend who looks like he was chiseled by Michelangelo himself!” One of the preppy girls called out.

Another responded. “Yeah! (Y/N), where do you find him?! Hmhmm...he is sexyyyy!”

The young woman covered her face in embarrassment as more laughs and comments echoed through the laptop speakers.

Deciding to face the music and provide some sort of explanation, (Y/N) unmuted her microphone. “I’m so sorry, Professor! I completely forgot my camera was on! It won’t happen again.”

ARAGORN

(Y/N) groaned in frustration as she squinted at the math equation on her professor’s screen.

Fucking hell....what do these symbols even mean?

She sighed as her mind began to wander. It was extremely late—why she decided to select a night math class was beyond her comprehension. Simply put: she had regrets. Week after week she endured countless hours of equations and numbers. It was draining really. All she wished for was to be back in Aragorn’s arms, but alas he was off killing orcs that somehow also made it into her world. He had been gone for about a week and, quite frankly, she was starting to worry.

Her long stretch of zoning out was soon interrupted by a handful of screams and shrieks coming form her laptop speakers.

“(Y/N)! BEHIND YOU!”

“TURN AROUND!”

“(Y/N)! RUN!”

The young women whipped her body to see what was so concerning behind her only to land eyes on her boyfriend—holding his hunting knives and covered in blood and grim.

“Aragorn!” She called out, instantly standing up and running to him.

She leaped into his arms, not caring that he was disgustingly dirty. He easily caught her. The Ranger smirked, “Who did you think I was? A killer?”

She rolled her eyes before squeezing him tighter.

He planted a soft kiss against her forehead before letting her feet touch the ground once more.

Aragorn then frowned when he heard confused shrieks and comments coming from the mysterious device. He took a couple steps forwards, squinting in attempt to figure out just what these tiny people on the screen were doing.

“Oh shit, Aragorn...just...just....hold on.”

(Y/N) rushed forward and pushed herself in front of her boyfriend. Quickly, she unmuted herself. “Sorry!! That’s my boyfriend! He just got back from....a...a hunting trip!”

Silence hung in the air as her classmates and Professor starred—completely and utterly speechless.

The pressure of the lack of response pushed her to continue speaking, “He’s uh...he um...hunts deer...he’s a part of the wildlife service....”

Her professor was the first to speak. “Oh...uh....okay. Next time, uh just warn us?” He stated weakly.

“Yeah....yeah...sorry...”

KILI

(Y/N) spoke in response to her professor’s question on zoom, “Well, I suppose.....if you are thinking about it analytically—“

She was interrupted by the sound of Kili’s voice from the bathroom, “(Y/N)! (Y/N)?”

The young woman’s voice faltered but she ignored his calls and continued to answer her teacher, “—that um, if you—“

“(Y/N)!”

She whipped her head around only to be met with the sight of her boyfriend wearing only a towel upon his waist—in clear view for her entire class to see. His abs rippled slightly as he moved and his biceps showed off his strength.

“Are you coming to shower?” The muscular dwarf question seductively.

“KILI!” She hollered in embarrassment.

“What!?” He said defensively.

“I’m in class!”

He shrugged and stepped forward, “So what? Just leave.”

“Kili! They can hear you...and see you.”

The dwarf’s brown eyes widened and he took a step closer to examine the screen, “They can what?”

“Kili! Get OUT!” (Y/N) called while shoving him away from the camera.

She turned back to her class, cheeks red as a cherry.

“I....I....I’m so sorry about that I just....I....”

A little giggle erupted from one of the girl’s in her class, “Hey at least he’s hot! Does...does he happen to have a brother?”

(Y/N) slapped her hand against her forehead. Not only did Kili embarrass her in front of her entire class and Professor, but now people were curious.

Great....Just Great....

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Bruises

Request: @whormotional​ asked: “hi i have recently become obsessed with your writing! youre like the best luke writing on this app i swear. could you do one where the female reader gets kidnapped on a case and tortured and just like luke and the team saving her and luke being there for her later that night pls”

Word count: 5.4k

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​​ , @lcvischmitt​​ , @ogmilkis​​ , @goldenalvez​​ , @ssa-morgan​​ ,  @akimagies​, @zhangyixingxing1​​ , @pinkdiamond1016​​ , @yourwonderbelle​​, @rachelxwayne​ , @sc4rletw1tch​ , @ellvswriting

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, gun tw, blood mention

A/N: love angsty requests thank youuu. hope youu enjoy!!

You wake up to the taste of blood in your mouth.  Your breath was ragged and shallow as you shook yourself out of a deep sleep. It was the first sense you were able to regain, but before you could force your eyes open, you felt the  pulsing pain coming from the back of your head.  It shot down your neck and around to the front of your forehead, making you wince.  

Images from the dream you had been having were still clear in your mind.  You had dreamt of Luke.  Maybe you dreamt about him because he occupied most of your thoughts, or maybe it was because his face had been the last thing you saw before blacking out.  You remembered seeing his brown eyes- usually warm and inviting, turn wide with worry as they didn’t quite meet your gaze.  It was like he was staring at something behind you. 

You saw him raise his gun and aim it slightly to your left.  You had been just about to ask him what was wrong before he opened his mouth to warn you.  His words were inaudible, though, as the blow that suddenly hit the back of your head had ensnared all of your senses.  The look on his face was what lingered in your mind now.  You tried desperately to memorize all of his features- the lines around his eyes and the way his hairline curved around his face.  You squeezed your eyes shut even harder, thinking of his tan skin and stubble beard. You really didn’t want to open your eyes, because you knew that wherever you were and whatever had happened to you, wasn’t good. 

…

When Luke comes to, he’s propped up against a cold wall and there are voices around him.  A headache was pulsing behind his eyes as he finally cracked his eyelids, eyelashes fluttering on his first few attempts. 

The blurry faces of Emily and Tara slowly start to come into focus as he wakes up.  He sees Tara sigh a breath of relief when her gaze meets his own. 

“Thank God,” she exhales quietly. 

Blood.  There was blood running down his head. And there was a bloodstained brick lying close to him. 

“Luke,” Emily’s voice is louder.  “What happened?”

“He came out of nowhere-” Luke states, he raises his hand to find the spot on his forehead that throbbed.  When Luke pulls away, there’s blood on his fingers.  Suddenly, images of the incident reentered his mind.  “I tried to shoot- but I didn’t want to hit her-”

“Where is Y/N?” Emily asks calmly. 

Just the mere mention of your name makes Luke sit up straighter.  The sudden movement makes his head wobbly, but he ignores it.

“Woah, take it easy,” Emily instructs. She puts her hand out to steady him. 

Luke falls back against the wall.  “She’s not here?” he asks, panic and fear flooding his insides. 

Instead of a yes or a no, Emily states, “We’ll find her.”

...

When you do finally open your eyes, you find that you're sitting in the corner of a dingy room, arms and legs bound to the worn chair.  The room reminded you of a basement, concrete walls with pipes and ducts running along the ceiling between the hanging lightbulbs that were much too bright without covers.  

You blink your eyes a few times, trying to make everything stop blurring together, but it seems impossible. 

You gasp, chest constructing at the sharp pain suddenly shooting up your left side. You breathe through your nose, trying to will down the panic and fear that’s engulfed you.  Each breath pulled in the strong presence of mold and mildew, making you want to gag.    

There’s a man in the corner of the room fiddling with something.  His back was turned to you until he realized you were conscious again.  He begins approaching slowly.  You recognize his wild hair and narrow eyes almost instantly.  

From the information Garcia had gathered online earlier, the man’s name was Greg Atwood. And he was your Unsub.   

You and the rest of the team had been called to Seattle over a week ago- after the third body showed up.  Once Seattle PD made the connection between the victims, it was clear their problem was severe enough for reinforcements.  You had worked the case just like any other- analyzing victimology, creating a geographic profile, combing the crime scenes. It became glaringly obvious that you were dealing with a professional, someone who killed efficiently and knew how to clean up their mess.  And when Emily sent you and Luke to interview the witness who found the latest body, neither one of you had any idea you were about to walk into the arms of the apparent killer himself. But the profile the team had established, fit.  

When Atwood opens his mouth to speak, his evil smile makes you cringe.  “You’re awake,” is all he states.  His voice is filled with venom. 

You jerk, thrashing against the restraints that bind you. The man steps forward, his finger trailing along the barrel of his gun. He smiles confidently, but it’s his eyes that burn into your brain.  

“What do you want from me?” you ask.  You knew all too well how these interactions went, but you were desperate to stall. 

The man looks at you for a long moment before inhaling deeply.  But he doesn’t speak. 

You blink again, trying to rack your brain and remember the profile.  What would buy you some time?

You dig your teeth into the inside of your cheek- a habit Luke had always given you shit for.  You briefly wonder if you’d ever get to hear him lecture you about it again. 

You tug at the restraints again, testing it.  But there’s no give. 

“What do you want?” you try again.  

Atwood takes another step closer, creepy smile still in place.  “I want to know how you found me,” he says simply. 

You bite your lip.  He takes your hesitation as an invitation to talk more.  “You see,” his voice trails. “I was very careful.  I cleaned up my mess, I didn’t leave behind a single trace of DNA.”

“We didn’t find you with DNA, we found you with our profile.” He didn’t need to know you and Luke had originally thought he was a witness. 

His smirk returns.  “Right,” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe it.  He turns his back to you and walks back towards the corner of the room he originally came from.  He hoists something up, you can’t quite tell what it is until he turns around with it in his hands.  It’s a tripod, and attached at the top is a camera. 

Your chest feels tight again- you didn’t like where any of this was going. 

The tripod is placed about six feet in front of you.  Atwood adjusts the angle a bit before pressing a button.  A light flashes red before he turns to look at you again.  His smile has faded. 

“Tell me where she is,” he orders. 

Your eyes widen, but you don’t speak. 

He waits, only a moment, before saying it again.  “Tell me where I can find Emily Prentiss.”

You clench your jaw.  

“I know you know where she is.  She is your Unit Chief after all, isn’t she?”

You ignore his question.  “Is my team seeing this?” you ask, nodding your head towards the camera.  

His silence makes you assume that’s a yes.  “You know- we profiled that you’d be extremely intelligent,” you say.  “But if you think I’d rat out my Chief or anyone on my team, we must’ve gotten that part wrong.”  

Your response gets you backhanded- hard across the face.  Your head whips back, but you try to shake it off quickly. 

You taste copper in your mouth again as you raise your head up.  Your hair has fallen in your face, but you don’t make any effort to move it. 

Atwood is looking at you, expression calculating.  “If you want to get out of here alive,” he says, “you’re going to tell me where she is.  It's up to you how hard you want to make this on yourself.”  When you stay silent, he continues.  “You see, it’s not you I really want.  I don’t want to kill you.  Just like I didn’t want to kill the agent you were with.  You’re collateral damage to me, it means nothing.”

His words make you freeze in place.  

Just like I didn’t want to kill the agent you were with. 

The sentence seeps into your skin like poison. 

Luke. 

Your face is blank and your mind can’t process the entirety of what he’s said, before he proceeds. 

“You see, it’s Prentiss I want.  Tell me where she is and this will all be over.”

“You killed-” your voice is shaky as you try to comprehend the words Atwood has just spoken to you.  “Y-you killed him?”

His smirk brings bile up in your throat. 

He was lying, you say to yourself.  Luke was fine, he was lying.  “No,” you whisper, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “No-”

Atwood sighs, pretending to be sympathetic. “Like I said- I didn’t want to do it. But he got in my way. Just like you’re getting in my way right now.” 

His words are muffled in your own head as your mind races to make sense of it all. Luke- Luke was your purpose and your happiness and your reason.  Luke was everything.  

“Tell me where she is.” Atwood presses. 

If he was telling the truth, and Luke really was dead- then what did it matter if you died too? “Go fuck yourself,” you spit, trying not to show him the brokenness he’d just caused. 

Atwood sighs, “I was hoping we could do this the easy way.” 

He approaches you, rolling up his sleeve as he walks.  You noticed a brass ring on his finger.  

You wonder what the rest of the team was thinking and if they could even see you right now.  You knew that they’d be looking for you, no matter what.  They’d probably even encourage you to give up Emily’s information- even though none of them would.  But it probably didn’t make whatever was about to happen to you easier for them to watch. 

“This doesn’t end until you tell me where she is,” Atwood sneers.  It’s his final warning.  You look straight at the camera and try to broadcast a message to the team.  In case they were watching, you wanted them to know you could handle this.  You offer the slightest smile, one they’d probably only catch if they rewound the tape, you’re reassuring them that you’d be fine.  

…

When the video stream first comes through, it makes Penelope gasp.  She was sleep deprived after being transported to Seattle.  Her job was to comb through the Unsub’s computer, and to hopefully find a hint as to where he might have taken you. 

At first, she’s surprised, and disturbed by the distressed looking girl tied to the chair.  Penelope has seen her fair share of gruesome images and videos in her days with the Bureau, but she never could seem to get used to it. 

But when the girl lifts her head and reveals a face Penelope recognizes immediately, she’s horrified.  Your eyes are tired, and every breath looks ragged. 

“Emily!” she calls out, “Guys!”  

Just then, a man comes into the frame, his voice is muffled and quiet. Before Penelope can turn the volume up to hear what he’s said, he raises his hand and strikes you across the face.

“No!” Penelope cries, squeezing her eyes shut.  Only when she feels a warm hand fall on her shoulder does she dare to open them. 

It’s Emily, and in her trail is JJ and Rossi. 

“What’s going on?” Emily asks, concerned. 

“It’s Y/N-” Garcia has tears running down her face. 

“Oh my God,” JJ breathes, she covers her mouth with her hands. 

“She’s hurt,” Garcia whimpers. 

Emily inhales sharply. 

“Is this live? Can you trace it?” Rossi asks, leaning in. 

Garcia nods, the rapid clicks of her keyboard answering for her. 

“Where’s Luke?” JJ asks, turning her head. “He can’t see this-”

“See what?” Luke’s voice rings through the room, making everyone turn their heads.  He’s standing in the doorframe with an ice pack held firmly to his head.  After being attacked, he’d refused to go to the hospital.  Not until you were home safe, he had said.  No one tried to argue it.  

They stand speechless, unsure of what to say to Luke. 

“See what?” he repeats.  But that’s when he sees the screen. 

“Who is that?” he asks, voice cracking. He leans so that he can see past Garcia. The panic on his face told them that he already knew. 

“We’re going to find her,” Emily says calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Suddenly, there’s a man’s voice speaking from the video.  It’s Atwood. 

“All I need is a location,” he says calmly.  “Tell me where I can find Emily Prentiss.”

Everyone in the room inhales sharply. Luke grits his teeth as he sees you pick up your head.  Your face looks scared. “I don’t know,” you say weakly. 

Atwood sighs.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, Garcia cries out again as he sucker punches you in the jaw.  Just as you’re wincing from the first impact, you take another hit, a punch to the gut that leaves you heaving and breathless.  

Luke is wild, gritting his teeth.  “I’m gonna bash this guy’s head in myself,” he roars, turning away.  

Just then, the rest of the team filters in the room.  “What’s going on?” Reid asks.  He’s holding an evidence bag in his gloved hands. 

“The motherfucker’s recording it- he’s live streaming it,” Luke exclaims.  He’s gripping his hair frantically. 

“Anything, Garcia?” Rossi asks. 

Her typing has become more frantic as she desperately tries to secure a location.  

The assault against you continues, hit after hit, mostly centered on your left side.  It’s clear that you were doing your best to zone out.

Luke has started watching again, despite Matt trying to pull him away.  

You keep your mouth shut, even when your side aches so bad you think he’s broken one of your ribs.  When Atwood finally stops hitting you, your face is hot and bruised and bloody.

It makes Luke want to be sick. 

Just then, a pinging noise comes from Garcia’s computer and the room goes dead silent. 

After a moment, she turns to Emily questioningly. “I have an address,” she states. 

“What’s wrong?” Tara asks, picking up on the confusion in her tone. 

“What’re we waiting for?” Luke roars.  “Let’s go-”

“It just feels- wrong,” Garcia says, unable to put her finger on it. “Why would an Unsub as intelligent as him not block his streaming location?”

“Do you think it’s a trap?”

Garcia shakes her head.  “I don’t know-”

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” Emily says.  She turns to the rest of the team.  “Let’s go.”

“Be safe,” Garcia whimpers. 

…

You barely feel alive anymore.  You had your eyes closed, and were resting your head against the back of the chair when you tried to imagine yourself back in your apartment with Luke.  You imagined being snuggled into him on the couch as you watched some cheesy, romantic movie. You had given up struggling- your restraints were too tight, it was no use. You tried to count how much time it had been since you’d been here. But the truth was, you had no idea how long you’d been out for. Hours? Days? 

You were wondering if the team was still looking for you when you hear a distant thump coming from upstairs.  

The thing was- you knew this wasn’t just about Emily’s location.  It wasn’t even about your team’s location.  It was about beating you- the power involved in outsmarting the FBI. 

You kept your eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying as best as you could to get your body to stop shivering. You were bruised and bloody and dehydrated.

You hadn’t opened your eyes in a while now. And even though you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t want to open them because you didn’t want Atwood to know you were awake.  

You wished your mind would quiet down, but of course it wouldn't.  You had nothing to do here besides think.  You think about the last words you said to Luke, and you think of how meaningless and insignificant they were.  You try to remember when the last time you told him you loved him was.  You think about if you even wanted to get out of here alive if there was no Luke to go home to.  

In the midst of your thoughts, you gasp loudly when the only door leading out of the room blows off the hinges.  Dust fills the air and you flinch at the feeling of your neck suddenly being barred by a strong arm.  

Atwood. 

“Drop it!” Emily’s familiar voice fills the room.  

You sigh a breath of relief, despite knowing there was a gun pressed directly against your temple. 

“You’re not getting out of here,” Rossi’s voice says.  “So you might as well put the gun down now.” When the dust finally settles, you see him filing to the left corner of the room, his gun drawn.  Matt has already situated himself in the right corner. 

Atwood chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening. 

“What makes you think that?” he sneers. 

“Look around you, man-” Matt says.  “We’ve got you cornered.”

Atwood shoves the barrel of the gun harshly against your temple, making your head spin. 

“I like my odds.”

His eyes flicker to the clock on the wall- a motion that Rossi picks up on immediately. 

“What’re you waiting for Greg?” There’s a taunting tone to his voice. “For three o’clock?”

Atwood’s head shoots up. That hit a nerve. 

“We know what your plan was, Greg,” Emily says.  “We found the bomb.”

For a brief moment, you feel the gun being dropped from your temple.  Just as quickly, the sound of a single gunshot makes you flinch.  Atwood drops to the floor behind you, collapsing in a pool of his own blood. 

It was Matt who took the shot- taking advantage of the brief moment of hesitation that Atwood demonstrated.  You turn to him, trying to express your gratitude, but your head is spinning. 

“You’re okay,” Emily states.  It sounds like she’s trying more to convince herself of that fact. 

You nod without even realizing it. 

Matt’s the first one at your side. He’s frantically ripping away the ropes from your wrist.  There’s ligature marks already visible on your skin. 

Cops and EMTs start rushing through the room just as Emily speaks into her mic that it’s clear.  

You try to stand up, but the world around you spins immediately, tilting on its axis.  You almost black out in just about half a second. 

“Woah-” Emily says.  

Matt catches you before you fall to the floor.  

You struggle to look around the room, but everything is too bright and people are moving too fast.  It’s impossible to tell who’s here and who’s not. 

“L-Luke?” You hesitate because you almost don’t want to know. 

Matt gives you a soft smile, pausing when you’re finally free from your restraints. “He’s okay, he’s outside.”

You blink a few times, not sure if you heard him right. “He’s alive?” you lock eyes with Matt. 

Matt nods, his face sincere. 

“But he’s hurt- Atwood said-”

“Hey,” Matt whispers, tightening his grip around your waist.  “He’s okay, I’ll take you to him.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but it could double as a soft sob.  There are tears falling down your cheeks. 

With Matt bearing the majority of your weight, you let him lead you out of the building.  The glaring, afternoon sun makes it hard to see once you get outside, but you trust Matt’s guidance. 

After only a few steps, you hear your name being called. 

It’s so hard to focus, and you can feel your vision blurring in and out- but you’d know that voice anywhere. 

“Luke-” you whisper tentatively, because you still weren’t entirely sure that the voice wasn’t a hallucination. 

But then you hear it again.  This time it’s clearer and closer. 

You blink a few more times, the brightness fading as you strain to see. 

Slowly, Luke’s figure comes into focus.  He’s rushing towards you, and you realize that’s the first time since being taken that you feel like you could breathe again. 

“Oh my God-” Luke stammers.  Once he reaches you, he hesitates, like he’s too afraid to touch you.  You were sure nothing about you looked even remotely beautiful right now.  Between the bruises on your face and your tear-stained cheeks, you can only imagine the type of image Luke was taking in. “Are you okay?” he asks, he grasps your upper arms gently. 

You ignore his question and throw your arms around him, letting your cheek rest against his chest.  He wraps his arms around you, one hand falling on your upper back, while the other cradles the back of your head.  He kisses your hair firmly before pulling away.  He holds you at an arm’s length and scans your body. 

He takes in the sight of you.  There’s bruising along your jawline, red swirled with blues and purples from broken blood vessels.  It makes his stomach lurch to know you’d been hurt like this- that he couldn’t stop you from being hurt like this.  

There’s blood caked into the side of your hair- crusty and turning dark crimson.  Luke runs his thumb along the length of it.  

Suddenly, he sees you frown.  After blinking a few more times, his face has finally come into focus, which allows you to see the cut visible on his forehead. “Your head-” you observe. 

Luke starts protesting immediately.  “I’m fine, I’m okay.” His small cut was nothing compared to the bruises that inevitably littered your body. 

Your head spins again, making you sway in place.  Luke’s quick to wrap an arm around you and you fall into his side with ease, wincing when his hand falls on your bruised side. 

The EMTs are already on the street, ready to throw you into the back of an ambulance. 

You try to protest, assuring Luke and everyone else that you were fine. But Luke insists.  “You need to be checked out.  You’re not fine.”  

It feels like forever before the hospital clears you.  You have a concussion and a couple broken ribs, nothing that won’t heal on its own.  You’re grateful to not be more severely injured.  But you’re also just exhausted and sore and ready to go home. 

Luke barely let’s go of your hand, let alone leaves your side for the next twenty four hours. It’s comforting having him beside you, but you don’t like seeing him so worried. 

Once you’re discharged from the hospital, Luke and you head straight to the jet, where the rest of the team is waiting.  

Everyone wants to know how you’re feeling- how you’re holding up.  But talking about it made you think about it, and you really didn’t want to think about it. 

The plane ride home feels agonizingly long.  Every time the jet jostles or has turbulence, you wince. And every time you wince, everyone rushes to your side to make sure you’re alright. 

“Can I get you anything?” Tara asks.  She had just stood up to refill her own cup of tea.  

You shake your head, offering her your most convincing smile. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“Blanket?” Reid offers. 

“Ice pack?”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Coffee?”

“Vodka?”

You decline. 

You sprawl out on the couch with your head resting in Luke’s lap and feign sleep just to avoid their fretting.  It makes you feel guilty to know you had them all so worried. 

His hands are in your hair, stroking the strands softly. 

“Luke, m’tired,” you whisper quietly enough so that only he hears. 

“I know,” Luke answers.  “We’re almost home.”

You lose track of the rest of the plane ride to your scattered brain, only picking up on small details: the murmur of Rossi and Emily talking beside you, the roughness of Luke’s jeans against your bruised cheek, the way your legs have to be slightly bent in order to fit on the couch.  Time passes in a disorienting lurch. 

It is an eternity before you land in Virginia.

And it’s an even longer eternity before you’re pulling into the driveway of you and Luke’s shared house. 

He tries to help you walk up to the door but you wave him away.  “I got it, I’m fine.”

You add a small smile when you see the hurt look on his face. 

“Bed or couch?” he asks while rushing to collect his keys out of his pocket. 

“Couch,” you murmur.  Your choice was based solely on the fact that the couch was significantly closer to you than the bed.  It also didn’t involved a flight of stairs. 

Luke drops your bags by the entryway before guiding you to the living room. His hand hovers wearily on your lower back- like he’s afraid you’ll collapse at any moment. 

You exhale choppily when you’re finally able to sit down on the couch.  It’s worn, familiar fabric makes you feel safer. Your eyes are heavy and your head wants to lull forward.  It’s hard to focus. 

Luke pulls the throw blanket down from the back of the couch and lays it gently on top of you.  It’s warmth brings comfort and ease.  

Luke kisses your forehead gently.  

“I’m gonna go grab some water,” he tells you. 

You just mumble incoherently in response. 

You quickly succumb to the exhaustion- letting your eyes fall shut.  But as soon as you let them close, his face appears.  It’s right in front of you, so close that if you reached out you could touch him.  Atwood is flashing his teeth with his signature evil grin, their tint of yellow and crookedness felt way too detailed to be a dream.  You wonder if you’re back in the basement- if you never really left in the first place.  Maybe being rescued was the dream. 

A soft clinking sound makes you shoot up from the couch, alert and panting while you frantically look around the room.  

Luke is setting a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you, but your startled response makes him whip his head towards you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, face full of worry. 

As soon as you see him, you realize that you’re home and safe. You try to calm yourself down, embarrassed by your reaction.   

You take a deep breath. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking it off.  “I’m fine.”

You both knew it was a lie. 

But Luke doesn’t argue- he doesn’t push.  He just settled down beside you on the couch, his arm wrapping around your shoulders carefully.  

You wait for a minute, steadying your breathing, before attempting to close your eyes again.  At first, it’s just the back of your eyelids and their darkness.  You stay focused on that and your breathing.  

As you finally start to relax, you start to feel a strange pressure against your wrists.  You jostle your arms, but for some reason they won’t move.  You’re stuck in place- restrained to the chair again. 

Suddenly, you feel Atwood’s fist against your jaw- his ring tearing open the flesh of your cheek.  His snickering is loud in your ears. 

You snap your eyes open again- you’re met by your dimly lit living room.  

Luke’s thumb is trailing up and down your arm comfortingly.  You were safe- these images you were seeing weren’t real. 

The third time you close your eyes- you see him almost instantly.  This time he’s close enough so that you can feel his hot breath on your neck.  

You shoot up quickly, panting heavily.  Your face collapses in your hands as you try to rub the images from your eyes.

It was real. It was very real, and you had the markings and bruises to prove it. 

This- laying on your own couch, finally getting to sleep- was what you’d been waiting for.  But now that your adrenaline had faded and some of the grogginess from your concussion had subsided, you couldn’t shut your eyes without hearing him, seeing him, feeling him- all over.

Luke sits up too, attentive to your uneasiness. 

“I c-can’t-” your voice is shaky.  “I can’t close my eyes,” you explain. 

Luke’s large hand rubs your back soothingly.

“I can’t close my eyes without seeing him.”

Luke nods, his hand travels from your back to your arm, he grips it securely before leaning in and pressing his lips to your temple.  You lean into his touch, letting him pull you closer to him.  He falls back against the couch, and you fall against his chest, practically on top of him at this point. 

“You're safe now,” he soothes. 

“I’m so tired,” you whisper, exhaustion making you start to tear up.  

“I know,” Luke murmurs.  His fingers trail up and down your arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. 

It doesn’t take long of Luke holding you like that for you to fall asleep.  At first, it’s nothingness- just a deep, peaceful slumber.  Until it isn’t. 

This time you don’t see Atwood.  Instead, you see someone curled up on the ground.  As you step closer, you realize it’s Luke.  You call out to him, but there’s no response. 

When he doesn’t answer, you reach your hand out, fingers grazing his bicep.  His skin feels ice cold.  You shake him lightly- but there’s no response.  Harder this time, you pull his weight towards you, hoping to get his attention.  Instead, Luke’s lifeless body flops onto his back.  His eyes are still open, lifelessly baring into your own. His mouth is parted slightly but there’s no air coming in or out of it.  That’s when you see the blood dripping down his face and pooled beneath his hair. 

You wake up screaming. 

“Hey-” Luke’s spinning and sitting up to position himself in front of you.  He cups your face between his hands. “Hey, hey- you’re okay. You’re safe, I got you.”

But you shake your head.  “It wasn’t me-”

Luke’s brown eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to understand. 

“It was you,” you say, voice fading into a sob.  “He t-told me that he k-” you swallow the lump in your throat, but it does little to make you stop crying.  “He told me that he killed you.  He told me you were dead.” 

Just saying it outloud makes you erupt into a puddle of tears.  You’re so distraught that you barely notice Luke pulling you into his lap on the couch. 

He’s murmuring soothing words into your ear, but continues letting you cry into his chest.  The numbness from earlier had completely worn off, and while you were scared and hurt- it felt good to feel something other than exhaustion.  

You’re not sure how long you stay like that- curled into Luke’s chest sobbing into his cotton t-shirt.  At some point, Luke had used his free hand to reach for the remote.  He put your favorite show on the television.  You’d seen every episode several times, but Luke knew it brought you comfort. 

Your eyes were red rimmed and puffy and you sniffled weakly. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you from sleeping,” you whispered, when you were confident you wouldn’t burst into tears again. 

Luke tightened his grip around you. “It’s okay,” he assures you.  “We’re both concussed, and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to sleep while you’re concussed, anyway.”

You smile. 

Luke linked your hands together, looking down at you and giving you a soft smile. “I love you.” He whispered, lips pressing against the top of your head.

“I love you too.” you replied quietly.

Things were a mess.  And you were sad and scared and it would probably take a lot of sleepless nights and painful sobs for you to get through this.  Luke would be there to dry your tears though, just like he always was. And Luke would probably have to try harder to keep you feeling safe and eventually, you were going to have to talk about what happened.

But right now, wrapped in each other's arms on your shared couch, all you needed was each other.   

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re taking reaction/imagine requests? asdfghjkl um- can we have an imagine with ateez teasing and embarrassing you in front of your classmates during your online classes during quarantine? i know it sounds lame zxcbxm

❥ kim hongjoong

“so i was thinking i could do this part and maybe you could do-“

hongjoong opened the door to your shared bedroom, making you look up from your computer and narrow your eyes at your boyfriend. you subtly shake your head at him before continuing to speak to your project partners. 

he had heard you complain for the past week about how they hadn’t been doing anything, that their powerpoint slides and essay portion still wasn’t done despite the deadline being tomorrow. he raised an eyebrow at the girl’s nasally voice saying that she still didn’t quite understand what she had to do. 

he could only listen to you for so long try to explain it to her, voice high and shaky the way it always is when you’re uncomfortable; he knows how much you prefer working alone, that group work and public speaking are the two worst aspects for you in school. 

it’s why he prances his way over to your desk as you look into the camera, only sensing his presence when he leans over your shoulder and places his arm down on the desk. “are these the girls who weren’t doing shit?” he asks, mouth in your ear but the words loud enough for everyone to hear. your cheeks flame and you push him away from the desk, stuttering out an apology as you glare at hongjoong who’s looking at you from across the room. 

embarrassment and all, though, it must’ve hit a nerve in them because when you checked back at the document a few hours later, after yelling and scolding hongjoong for a good thirty minutes, everything was completed. 

❥ park seonghwa

you had told him to stay out of the camera. that you would stay in the living room with him but that he couldn’t make a sound or have his presence known. 

and it’d been working until your teacher called on you to answer a question, his voice hard and commanding the way all of your classmates have grown used to. everyone had just thought the man hated you all, his blunt way of speaking and loud, booming tone scaring the shit out of all of you for the first few weeks of class.

you came to learn that’s just how he was, a severe case of tough love that some long-time professors just harbor after dealing with loudmouth college kids. but when seonghwa heard the man harshly call your name, his head looked up from his phone and he narrowed his eyes; he didn’t like someone talking to you like that. 

“can you give us your thoughts since you’ve just been sitting there with a stupid look on your face.” 

he isn’t able to see the small smirk on your face at the professor’s words, instead throwing his phone aside and poking your arm gently. 

“who the fuck is he talking to like that?” 

your eyes widen as you immediately mute your sound, pushing seonghwa back and shaking your head at him. “seonghwa, are you crazy!?” your laptop is turned away so your classmates and professor don’t see you and your boyfriend talking back and forth, the crazy overprotective man next to you saying he doesn’t care who it is, no one’s allowed to say shit like that to you. 

“he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, he’s just like that!” but when seonghwa shakes his head and deems that’s completely unnecessary, you take your laptop and stomp off toward the bedroom. you ignore the call of seonghwa’s voice before you close the door, warning him through gritted your teeth he better not follow you. 

when you turn your camera back on, your cheeks are warm and embarrassment floods through you at the smirk on your teacher’s lips and the curious looks of your classmates. 

“your boyfriend’s not gonna beat me up, is he?”

❥ jeong yunho

you were listening to the professor’s lecture with your feet in yunho’s lap, the boy quietly doing his own studies as he listened to music through his headphones. 

the video session was scheduled for an hour and a half, looking at the time in the corner to reveal only forty minutes have passed. you let out a sigh, resting your head on your hand as you do everything in power to pay attention to the professor’s monotone voice. 

yunho looks up and sees the bored expression on your face, pausing his music but remaining nonchalant as he moves his gaze back to his textbook. but just as he hears you start to yawn, he moves his long finger to your foot and scratches up the bottom of your sock-covered skin.

and thank god your mic is muted because you jump and yelp at the ticklish feeling and your laptop falls over into the couch cushion, your squeaky “yunho!” followed by his deep chuckle making you smack him playfully as you adjust yourself again. 

you notice a few of your classmates smirking and hope it has nothing to do with your little mishap, squinting at yunho as he continues to laugh at you. when the teacher announces it’s time for a class discussion, you go to move your feet but he grabs your ankle, a pout on his face as he promises not to do it again. 

but you missed the way his pointer and middle finger were crossed behind his thigh, the mischievous boy waiting until you started talking to scratch his nail under the bottom of your foot. 

“and i think that’s something really import-ANT…in this lesson,” you say, the way you jump making him snort. you kick him in the side before sitting up, apologizing to your professor before you attempt to continue your intellectual discussion. 

❥ kang yeosang

you thought it was lucky that your class time matched up with yeosang’s practice time, a quiet peaceful hour and a half for you to sip your coffee and really pay attention to the lecture. 

but since you were in your room, you didn’t hear the front door or the sound of shoes hitting the floor. you only became aware of your boyfriend at the same time as your whole class, your bedroom door pushing open and yeosang jumping to belly flop onto the bed directly behind you. 

“hi, baby! shit, i am so sweaty, i can’t believe-“

“uh, yeosang-“ you try to say but the boy only takes a heavy breath and continues to talk, going on about how difficult the new choreography is and how if he doesn’t start working out hard, it’s gonna be the death of him. and you love that he’s telling you all of this, you really do, but you’re also not ignorant of the fact that your entire call has turned silent in amusement and fascination at yeosang’s cute rambling. 

“why are you sitting over there, can’t you just lay with me so i can-“

“yeosang, please stop talking,” you beg him quietly, the panic in your voice causing him to look up; your cheeks are burning and you look about ready to burst out into awkward laughter, the boy’s face dropping when he sees about 25 boxes of random faces staring at him. 

“oh-oh my god! oh my, god! i’m so sorry, i’m just gonna- why wouldn’t you tell me!” he frantically runs out of the room, your own hand covering your face because it’s not even like he gave you a chance. 

“i’m sorry,” you say to your class, your pink cheeks causing your professor to smile and shake her head, carrying on with the lesson like you and your boyfriend aren’t gonna hide under the covers in embarrassment for the rest of the day over this. 

❥ choi san

your teacher didn’t require sound during lectures but she liked to make sure everyone was up and awake for the eight a.m class, always asking you guys to leave your cameras on so she can see you’re “attentive and alert.”

and usually you didn’t mind but today san was fast asleep so you had your headphones in, your camera turned away from your bed and facing the bright window as you tried your hardest not to nod off right then and there. 

you didn’t think you woke san when you snuck out from under his arm but you found that you were sadly mistaken, just twenty minutes into the lecture his whiny morning voice starting. 

“baby….come back to bed,” he mumbled into the pillow, a smirk on your lips as you look over at him. his one eye peeks open and he sees you sitting at the desk in front of your laptop, wearing his shirt and a pair of shorts with knee high socks that makes him all too desperate and needy to have you back in bed with him. 

you watch his eyes rake over you and a pout make its way on his face, holding his arm out as he whines out your name. “soon, san, i’m almost done,” you tell him, even though it’s a lie and you hope he’ll fall back asleep within the next few minutes

but he waits for all about five before he gets up, concentrating on writing notes down with the professor’s voice in your ear that you miss the way he shuffles toward you. it’s not until he wraps his arms around you from behind and buries his face in your neck that you realize he’s here, your eyes shooting to the camera and cheeks flushing before raising it to the ceiling. 

“san! my whole class just saw that!” you squeal, the way he pulls your neck back to kiss your lips proving he’s completely unbothered by the fact; he just wants you back in the warm bed, who cares about school?

❥ song mingi

“guys, you have to be quiet!” your roommate tells the boys, “y/n’s on a video chat with her class and-”

mingi, in a burst of excitement to finally see you after being apart for a week, ignores the girl’s words and bursts right into your room. his deep, happy yelp of your name and excited waves causes you to snap your head back and smile immediately at him; your heart softens at the way he’s bouncing like a giant child. 

you return a small wave before nodding toward the door, holding up your two palms and wiggling your fingers to indicate ten more minutes. but the boy just doesn’t get it, making his way over to you before he stops and sees a whole laptop of people staring at him. 

he looks at you in surprise, like he wasn’t already warned that you were doing this, before jumping to the side and waiting politely in your bean bag chair. 

you turn back around and have to fight the smiling desperate to make it’s way on your pink cheeks, ignoring the way your friend in the class starts private messaging you asking who the cute boy behind you was. 

❥ jung wooyoung

“why’s your camera off, y/n?”

your eyes narrow at the obnoxiously familiar voice coming through your laptop speakers, shaking your head as you do your best not to curse him out. 

given that your real class time is over two hours, your professor allows for a fifteen minute break where usually everyone either turns off their cameras to eat or has one big chaotic chat, usually led by no other than 

“wooyoung, shut up,” you snap when you can’t take it anymore, his nonstop questioning and high pitched giggle piercing right through your eyes. 

“why don’t you say it to my face?” he counters and you can just hear the smirk in his voice. you leave your computer and stomp out of your bedroom and down the hall, kicking open the door to see the boy himself sitting in front of his laptop with a shit eating grin on his face. 

“we are never taking another class together again!”

❥ choi jongho

“any last minute questions?”

“oh, um yes!” you reluctantly speak up, hating to ask in the first place and especially now over this new type of video chat set up. “about the project,  should we be using apa format or-”

“goodbye, baby, goodbye!” 

your mouth drops open and heat immediately creeps on your face, jongho walking past you with headphones in as he sings and dances like there’s no one around. but there’s about thirty of you around, his singing piercing through the speakers of every single one of your classmates as they watch him shimmy and shake across the room.

he continues his singing until he closes the door to the bathroom and you don’t even think he noticed you sitting in your desk at the corner, an awkward laugh threatening to bubble out of your mouth as you try to regain your composure. 

“i’m so sorry,” you blurt out, cheeks pink as you shake your head and try to ignore the giggles coming from your classmate when, even from the bathroom, they can hear jongho singing his heart out.

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK VI | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 6! Read Part 5 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Miss you - The Rolling Stones.

Like Real People Do - Hozier.

Sweet Creature - Harry Styles.

Word Count: 4,619.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Summer, Before Senior Year.

Quarantine.

“You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“You were asleep, I’m sorry.”

“Matthew, it’s okay, really.”

“What time is it there?”

You pulled your phone away from your ear to glance at the screen, “Three in the morning.”

“Damn, [y/n], I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “What’s up?”

“Can we facetime?”

“I look a mess.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he replied. “Please?”

You sighed, “Okay. Okay, call me.”

He did, and when you answered, you had the camera focused on your face, your lamp light on. 

“Oh, God, Matthew!” You shouted. “I thought you were going to show your face, you pervert!”

“My face isn’t hard right now.” 

“Nasty!” 

“I thought you liked it?”

“You’re a disgusting little boy.”

“[y/n], please. I’m so horny right now, and I’ve been jerking off forever, but I can’t get off. Help? Please?” 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. “Dirty boy. Filthy boy.” 

“If this is your method of dirty talk, it isn’t working for me.”

You let out a dry laugh. His cock was front and center on your phone screen, his hand wrapped around it, jerking it slowly. “Tell me how to help, Matthew.”

“Show me those tits, pretty lady.”

You cackled, “Nasty!”

But you still pulled your shirt up, revealing your breasts, which were sitting pretty without the restraint of a bra. Matthew flipped the camera to his face at lightning speed, holding his screen close to his face. “When the fuck did you get your nipples pierced?” His voice was strained, high pitched, laced with shock and surprise. 

“Oh,” you said. “The week I got home. Before the tattoo shops closed.”

“Do you like them?” You asked.

“Matthew?” You called. 

But he was silent. Actually, he wasn’t silent, he was grunting. He was grunting, and jerking himself off, his wrist going numb from the speed and intensity that he was using. You froze the moment you realized what was happening, your camera perfectly angled at your chest. You watched Matthew’s face scrunch up, the way it always does when he’s nearing his orgasm, and your breath caught in your throat. He was so hot, geez. He stared at his phone, trembling, weak, panting quietly. He sucked in a sharp breath, and as he exhaled, the breath came out shaky and loud — louder than he intended — and he released himself all over his hand. 

“You good?” You whispered. 

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbled. His breathing was hard, raspy. He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me about the nipple piercings?” 

You giggled, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, wiping himself off before he fixed his pants. “Did they hurt?”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “It was quick, the piercer was nice.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Can I see them again?” 

You sighed with a bit of laughter mixed in, and you did as you were asked. The two of you stayed up for another five hours, talking, laughing, helping each other come. By the time eight in the morning rolled around, you were completely shirtless, and Matthew was close to falling asleep. But he didn’t want to. He kept on bringing up different topics, pulling you into all sorts of conversations, just so you would stay on the phone. 

“Matthew,” you whispered. “Go to bed.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“If you go to sleep right now, you will wake up to titty pictures.”

He paused, “Throw in some ass pics, too?”

“You got it,” you nodded.

“Okay, goodnight, [y/n].”

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

And so began a very long, very horny, dirty, nasty quarantine. 

When you first arrived home, it was a constant waiting game to see who would call who first. When Matthew woke up without you that day, he held his phone in his chest for a long time, waiting for it to ring, to buzz, anything. But it never did. Because you were doing the same thing — watching, waiting, hoping. Matthew eventually got too swept up in his own move to reach out, so you sat at home for days without so much as a word. Until sunday night, when he finally called — horny and desperate.

You had to continue your online classes that Monday, after the long night of facetime sex, and he was all you could think about. All you could think about. There was radio silence for the first few hours of the day. You blindly rolled through your classes, glancing at your phone every few minutes. You finally gave in by the time you were in your last class, picked up your cell phone, and pulled up Matthew’s text messages. You didn’t know what to say, what to type, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. And just as you went to press a letter, a message came through. 

M: i had a dream about you

You bit your lip to contain a smile. 

Y: rly? what happened in this dream?

M: call me and i’ll tell you

You glanced at your laptop, your professor still rambling on and on. It was definitely unlike you to choose a boy over class. But, class was just about over. And Matthew wasn’t just a boy.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you said into your phone, smiling at Matthew’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“Just finished class. What are you doing?” 

“I’m in class right now, actually,” he told you. “Animation.”

“Hot,” you giggled at the noise of his lecture in the background.

“Thanks. My dream was hotter, though.” 

“Oh? Was it?” You grinned, laying back in bed. 

“Yeah. You were a sexy nurse.”

“Matthew!” You exclaimed, erupting in a fit of laughter. 

“Okay, you weren’t a nurse. But you were there, and I was there—“

“We were both there.”

“Yes. And we were in my room, on my bed, and you were sitting on my face.”

You squeezed your thighs together, “Oh.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing, but you did it. And you were so scared to suffocate me, it was cute.”

“Cute, huh?”

“Sexy. I can visualize your body so well,” he whispered. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Matthew,” a voice called. 

Your eyes went wide, you went silent. “Oh, shit!” Matthew exclaimed, noticing that his microphone had been on the whole time. He quickly left the online class, and sighed heavily. 

You could hardly breathe, you were laughing so hard. You cackled, you hooted, you howled. And Matthew couldn’t help but join you. “Fuck!” He chuckled. “I’m a dumbass.”

“Well, I’ve always known that.” You replied. 

“Facetime me, princess,” he requested. 

You did, and he continued to tell you about his dream. How he laid under you, could taste you on his tongue, feel your skin on his hands. It made you incredibly horny, and when you thought he wasn’t listening, you started to touch yourself. Your breath got shaky, and you attempted to keep it quiet — with no success.

“You touching yourself, princess?” Matthew asked.

“No,” you whispered, but it came out rushed.

“Oh, you are. I know that voice.” 

“And I...like your voice.”

“You do? Hm...you like to hear me tell you how hot you are? How much I want to be sucking on those perfect tits right now? Bury my cock inside you and fuck you until you can’t walk?”

“Fuck, Matthew,” you huffed. You’d never heard him talk quite like this before. It was steamy and overwhelming and so, so nice. 

“Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

“Just, uh, um, touching my clit.”

“Good, princess. Now, slide your fingers in for me.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, and did as you were told, your fingers gliding into you. “O-okay,” you murmured.

“Does it feel good? Does it feel better than me?” Matthew purred.

“Nothing feels better than you,” you said, before you could catch yourself. 

He grinned to himself, “Show me. Let me watch.” 

You flipped the camera around to present yourself to him, your legs spread open, your fingers pumping in and out of your core. “Fuck...” he said under his breath, his hand slipping into his underwear. “I’ve never been this jealous of someone’s fingers.”

You chuckled, followed by a weak moan. “Don’t be shy. Show me something, too.”

He let you watch him stroke his hard cock in his palm. Your hands were somehow moving in unison with each other’s. Matthew could tell you were getting close, from the noises you were making and the way your body trembled. His own orgasm pent up in his stomach, but he continued to edge himself until you came. But when you did finished, panting his name and letting out soft moans, he allowed himself to let go. His come shot all over his stomach, and you admired the way it coated his skin.

“Look what you did,” he murmured. 

You laid there, tired and blissed out beyond belief. “Don’t you dare think that we’re doing this all of quarantine, Matthew Gubler.” 

“We’ll see.”

The idea of spending five months away from Matthew was grueling to say the least. You’d gotten so used to him being right down the hall that you constantly had to remind yourself that he was all the way across the country. But, when you guys really got into the groove of things, the distance didn’t seem so bad. 

He always texted you goodmorning and goodnight. The two of you managed to obtain a 30 day streak on snapchat. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. You texted each other tiktoks and funny tweets that reminded you of one another. You stayed up until all hours of the night, chatting and laughing and talking dirty to one another. You were on facetime with each other so often that your family began to ask who he was. “A friend,” you said. It wasn’t that believable, though. 

Things were great, despite you missing him like crazy. And then he sent you a text. It had a few attachments, and a message saying: forgot to send you these 😘. 

Intrigued, you opened the message to find a row of videos. Of you. Of Matthew. You two together. The first one you clicked was of him eating you out, and you swear, you flooded your bed. It was easy to forget, to lock away memories of him to keep yourself sane. But these videos — of you two fucking, him sucking on your boobs, you sucking on his fingers, sucking his dick — they were too much to bare. 

You hand slid into your underwear, your eyes trained on your phone as you watched Matthew fuck you. Headphones in, you listened to the sound of skin on skin, him whispering dirty things to you through his moans. You bit down on your lip, touching yourself, teasing yourself, too turned on to think properly. And so eager to get off that you forgot to lock the door.

“[y/n]?” A family member called, bursting into your room.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. You quickly hid yourself under the cover and paused the video. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you promised not to make that mistake again. 

Matthew, however, didn’t get the memo.

“Nipple piercings, ma’am?” He pouted, looking at you over facetime one day. “Whip ‘em out.”

“Whip ‘em out? Is that how you ask?” You giggled.

He sighed, “Can I see your tits? Please? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” he nodded.

“Moo like a cow,” you said.

He was silent for a second. “You considering it?” You asked.

“I am, yeah,” he nodded. 

You cackled, and pulled your shirt up, revealing your bare chest. Just as both of your breasts graced the screen, Matthew’s mom stepped into his room to ask him a question. 

“Oh, dear!” She remarked, catching a quick flash of your chest. 

“Oh, no!” You shouted. You ducked out of the camera’s vision, and Matthew dropped his phone. 

“Hi, [y/n],” Mrs. Gubler said.

“Hi, Mrs. Gubler!” You pipped, your face beet red. 

When she left the room, Matthew and you erupted in nervous laughter. “I’m so, so sorry,” he told you. 

“It’s okay! Is she mad?” 

“No. She’s never gonna let me live this down, though. Anyways, show me those tits again.”

“Are you serious?” You pipped.

He gave you the eyes. His trademark ‘i’m horny and i would die for you, queen, please show me some titty’ eyes. 

You sighed, “Nasty boy.”

By the time you two were halfway through quarantine, Matthew and you had each other’s routines memorized. Well enough, that he knew what time you showered every night. He called you just as you stepped out of the shower, and when you answered, he was happy to see you naked and wrapped in a towel. 

“Well, well, well,” he smirked. “This is my lucky day.” 

“Shut up,” you laughed, setting your phone down on the counter, upright so he could see you. You dropped your towel to reveal your naked body, and he nearly drooled at the sight. “Don’t be a perv.”

“I am a perv.”

You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your clothes, sliding your hoodie over your body. 

“Wait,” he said. “Wait, wait, wait. Is that my hoodie?” 

You froze, standing there in an NYU hoodie that came down to your knees. “[y/n]? Princess? Did you steal my hoodie?” He asked.

“Borrowed!” You exclaimed, your voice squeaking. “I borrowed it.”

“I’ve been looking for that hoodie. When did you take it?”

“Borrow!”

“Okay, when did you borrow it?” 

“That night...” You trailed off. “Before I left. I saw it laying there and it was a little chilly so I—“

“Stole it.”

“Borrowed!”

He giggled, “It looks good on you. Really good.” 

“Yeah?” You grinned, twirling around in the hoodie, your legs exposed. 

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “Does it smell like me?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, it does.” That’s part of the reason you loved it so much. 

“Stay—stay just like that for me,” he pleaded. “Just like that.”

You held yourself still, posing your entire body in front of the camera for him to take you in. His hand had snaked down into his pants and grasped his cock, now delivering slow strokes along his shaft. 

“Like what you see?” You purred. 

Love what I see, he thought. But he only said, “Yeah.”

His wrist sped up, along with his breathing. “Fuck,” he panted. His eyes lowered into this sensual look, his teeth were gritted together. You gave him a sly smile, and turned around, lifting up the hoodie to show him your ass. 

“Oh, fuck!” He shouted. Suddenly, he hung up. While you stood there, confused, he laid in his bed and withdrew his hands from his pants. He closed his eyes tight, attempting to calm himself. Soothe the feeling in his chest. But it wouldn’t go away. He missed you. He missed you so much, it was heart stopping, soul shattering, and it even got rid of his boner. He could conceal it for a long, long time. But that hoodie...

That damn hoodie. 

Embarrassed from your last phone conversation, he almost didn’t answer when you called him that night. But he couldn't stop himself. When he answered the facetime request, he saw you — stressed, your face red and sad. “What’s wrong?” He cooed.

“It’s almost midnight and I have an assignment due and I have no idea how to do it and it’s worth a lot of points and I’m gonna have a heart attack.” You rambled. 

“Okay, okay,” he sat up. “[y/n], babe, calm down. What class is it for?”

“Advanced film. It’s a quiz, I just—“

“Send it to me.”

“Matthew—“

“Send it. I’ll do it.”

“You don’t have to,” you sighed. 

“But I want to. I don’t want you stressed. Just send it, I’ll get it done before midnight. I promise.”

You smiled at him, blinking away the stress-induced tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Matthew. Thank you so much. If you ever need help with anything, let me know, I’ll help. If you decide to take ballet next semester, I can really help.”

He laughed, and the two of you held each other’s gaze for a long time. It was full of softness, joy, bonding. A little love. 

“Anyways, uh,” Matthew said, clearing his throat. “Can I see your ass again?” 

You shook your head at him, laughing under your breath. 

Quarantine couldn’t be over soon enough. 

[PART 7.]

[winchest09]

Pay Attention

Title: Pay Attention

Pairing: Professor!Dean Winchester x  Student!reader

Word Count: 3299

Summary: Y/N had fantasied about Professor Winchester for as long as she can remember being in his class. When a virus strikes and she is forced to learn from home, Dean Winchester learns the reason of why she’s behind on her coursework. 

Rating: 18 +

Warnings: Smut. Virtual smut. Fingering, male masturbation, female masturbation, swearing, dirty talk (ish), virtual stripping. 

A/N: So! This stemmed from a little chat I had with a few friends today (mainly @anathewierdo​ )and thus, this oneshot was born! Or more like i was told to write it ;) ahaha. I hope you enjoy it my darlings! 

A/N 2: Thank you to my darling beta, my worldie @katehuntington​ for her constant support and for her words. Love you dearly.

Main Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

——————————————

Tapping her pencil against the notebook on her desk, Y/N looked at the time on her phone, and sighed. The day was dragging; as were her lectures and she was counting every passing second until she could close the laptop lid and call it a day. Ever since the virus outbreak and the country had been placed on lockdown, her university had told her to study from home and that they would offer online classes for the remaining of the current semester. While this was fine, being at home and surrounded by your own comforts, it was also highly distracting. Today, Y/N had been bitten by the procrastination bug. The only thing keeping her going, would be the one on one she had scheduled with Professor Winchester in a few minutes time. 

The mere thought of her teacher made Y/N suck in a quick sharp breath. He was the highlight of her degree; seeing him in his crisp white shirt with the arms rolled up above the elbow, the tight trousers that allowed her to see the perfect curvature of his behind and the few day old stubble that adorned his freckled face. He had been the subject of many night time fantasies and he’d also been the reason she’d forgotten to take notes in a few of his classes, leading her to be behind on her coursework. Y/N had scolded herself a few times for acting like a teenager, fantasizing about her teacher while in class. She wasn’t old by any means but she was closer to Professor Winchester’s age than the rest of the pupils she shared lessons with. She would spend the hour listening to his words that sounded like honey when they passed his lips, her mind going into overdrive when she would think at how her name would sound when he moaned it. 

So here she was, alone in her study, waiting for an inevitable call on Zoom from Professor Winchester. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t spent a little longer than normal on her make-up or that she’d not picked out the bra that had pushed her breasts into a wonderful cleavage. She’d done both of those things and more, her top was a shirt that was buttoned down to give an ample yet modest view of her chest and her hair had been curled just slightly to give the illusion of a natural beach wave. 

She reached for her glass on her desk, her throat suddenly becoming dry at the very thought of him being on her screen in a moment’s time. Sipping on her water, the sound of a newly received email nearly made her choke, her stomach flipping as her fingers glided across the laptops track pad and hovered over the “join meeting” link Professor Winchester had just sent her. Here we go. 

Taking a deep breath, she tentatively waited for her laptop to connect and before she could let the air escape her lungs, there he was on her screen. From what Y/N could make out, he was sitting at his desk, a loose shirt adorning his torso with his forearms on show, the top few buttons undone to give her a peak at his chest. She followed his hand as it made its way to his head and that’s when she noticed that his hair was a little longer than usual thanks to the lockdown, but it didn’t look out of place. In fact, she squirmed a little in her seat as he ran his fingers through it, discreetly biting the corner of her lip as she wished so desperately it could be her doing that motion instead. She also noticed that he had stubble, the trademark of his look and the thing she had imagined burning her thighs more than a few times. It was then that he chose to look up at the camera, his lips broadening into a wide smile to show off his dazzling grin as his candy apple eyes beamed towards her. 

“Afternoon, Y/N,” he greeted, his tongue pulling in his bottom lip. “How are you?” 

“G-good,” she stammered, clearing her throat quickly to repeat herself before he could question her stammer. “Good, Professor Winchester, thank you.”

“How many times, Y/N, call me Dean,” he reminded her, his voice soft as he twiddled a pen between his fingers. “Professor makes me sound old,” he chuckled, his smile warm as he continued to look her way. 

“Sorry,” she quickly apologised, her cheeks warming; she just hoped they weren’t reddening. “How are you, Dean?” she returned the pleasantry, her own lips forming into a natural smile. 

“Other than missing being in class teaching you, I’m well.” He shuffled his papers on his desk and Y/N had to calm herself; she knew he meant you as a collective term but she couldn’t help but let her imagination run wild with the possibility he meant just her. “Let’s get down to it shall we?” 

“Of course,” she agreed, shuffling slightly in her chair as she straightened her back, her fingers gliding over her notebook in front of her. 

She watched his movements and she couldn’t help but get distracted by the way his shirt was moving over his skin, his shoulders broad against the back of his chair, the material tight around his biceps as he reached for her file. God, he was a dream. He hunched forward slightly, his thumb running slowly over the cap of his pen as he read the document in front of him. Y/N couldn’t help but follow the movements of his hand, her mind thinking of what else he could be holding.  

“I’ve noticed you’ve caught up with some coursework, which I'm happy about considering the circumstances. Most of my students have done less at home given the situation.” His deep voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she chastised herself once again for not paying attention to the situation. “It makes me ask the question, though, is there anything that I’m doing that’s hindering your learning experience? I’m curious as to why you’re working better at home than you are in my class. Is there anything I could do differently to help you?” 

Be naked? Y/N clenched her eyes closed quickly, clearing her throat and slightly shaking the explicit thought from her head as she tried to focus on Dean’s question. 

“Erm, no. Less distractions I guess,” she answered quickly, letting out a small breath as she tucked some stray hair behind her ear. 

“Distractions?” He questioned, a small crease furrowed in his brown as he leant back against his leather backed chair. “Is there someone affecting you in class?”

In that moment, she had to hold back her reaction, her eyes wanting to go wide as her heart beat wildly in her chest. She’d slipped up, not realising that the words she said would have Dean so concerned. 

“Oh, n-no. I mean--” she stammered, her hand quickly reaching for her glass of water once more. 

Dean interrupted. “-Because you’re one of my best students, Y/N. I’d hate for you to fail on this,” he told her, honestly, placing his pen down on the desk in front of him. 

“I won’t,” she quickly interjected, offering him a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.” She gauged his reaction, his lips pursing together slightly as he gently nodded.

“Ok.” 

It was then she let out a small sigh of relief, she was grateful that he hadn’t delved deeper into the issue and she listened to him as he began to tell her about the next project that was coming up. Once again, she knew she should be taking notes, she knew she should be nodding along and showing that she was involved with the conversation but instead, her mind couldn’t get past the explicit thoughts that she’d already cooked up earlier that day. 

Y/N leaned her head on her hand and started to imagine him standing up and pulling on his belt, popping the button on his jeans before reaching into his boxer briefs and revealing his hard, large, dick to her. He’d have one palm flat against the desk, the other on himself as he got off to the sight of his student. It took all she had to not let out a whimper so instead, she bit down hard on her thumb to suppress any noises she wanted to make. 

“Y/N?” His gruff voice cut through her thoughts which made her shoot up in her seat. 

“S-sorry,” she stammered, holding her hand to her forehead as she felt her cheeks heat from embarrassment; she’d been caught red handed. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised. 

“Yes,” she swallowed, her voice sounding higher than normal. It was then she noticed how he narrowed his eyes slightly, his jaw clenching as he clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

“Ok, then repeat it back to me,” he asked, matter of factly as he crossed his arms across his broad chest. 

“I-I,” she started, her words stammering as she desperately tried to remember what Dean had been telling her. “You were talking about…” Her words trailed off as she failed to push the elicit thoughts from her mind. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling ashamed and disappointed in herself, embarrassment flooding her being. 

“I see what’s going on here,” he stated, leaning forward as he placed his arms on the desk in front of him. 

“Y-you do?” Fuck, he’d noticed, he’d caught her out. What was she playing at? She didn’t know what to say or how to even explain what was going on or how she could get out of this one. 

“You’re being a very naughty girl, Y/N.” He smirked, his hand rubbing at his stubbled chin, “not paying attention when i’m talking.” Her breath got stuck in her throat, her mind questioning over what she’d heard and if she had heard it correctly or if she was still daydreaming.

“What?” She squeaked. 

“Do I need to teach you a different lesson?” he questioned, his voice harder than usual as he pushed himself back in his chair, “Because I feel like we need to take a different approach on how to keep your attention on me. If you want too of course.” 

“Of course,” she rasped, her thighs pushing together at the tone of his voice. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she noticed that he was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, the material falling to the side of him as he revealed his toned chest. “W-what are you doing?” She couldn’t understand what was happening, her mind unable to comprehend that Dean Winchester was stripping for her on camera. 

“Teaching you a lesson as to why you should pay attention to me,” came his reply, ridding himself of his shirt entirely and dropping it to the floor next to him. 

“Fuck,” she whimpered, her eyes raking in everything he had to offer. He was more tanned than she remembered, noting that he must have been in the backyard at some point during this lockdown. The thought of him, topless and sweating made her roll her lips over her teeth; he’d never wanted a man more.  

“Care to do the same?” His question caught her off guard, but she complied; daydream or not she wanted this to happen. With shaking hands, she brought them up to the buttons on her shirt, one by one she popped them open, slowly revealing her chest to him. Y/N heard him suck in a breath, one eyebrow raised as he watched her. He scooted himself back on his chair, allowing her the full view of him and she couldn’t help but admire the sight. She watched as his hands moved down his bare stomach, his fingers beginning to fumble at his belt.

“You’ve been in my class for a few months now, and fuck, I think about you every single night after I’ve seen you.” Her eyes were glued on his movements, her breathing heavy as he pulled on the leather, unbuckling it before pulling it out through the loopholes. “I would like this lesson to be more hands on but given the circumstances, It’ll have to be a demonstration instead.” With that, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled apart the zip, widening the material to allow him to reach into his briefs.

“Dean…” she whispered, her words coming out like a breathy moan as she continued to watch. 

“Move back from the screen, Y/N, let me see all of you,” he demanded, pulling out his hard length, his voice low and gravelled as he began to pump himself. 

Y/N did as she was told, pushing herself back slowly and allowing the wheels on her chair to distance herself from the desk. She then stood, pulling her shirt from her shoulders and watched Dean for his reaction. Y/N couldn’t help but whimper when she saw how hard he was, at how he was pleasuring himself at the sight of her. It was everything she had ever dreamed and fantasized about. Feeling that sudden surge of confidence, wanting to make the most of this moment, she reached for the zipper on her skirt and pushed it down, allowing the material to pool at her feet. She stood there, in just her underwear, eagerly awaiting his approval. 

“God fucking damn, Y/N,” he growled, the sound of his hand pumping himself bleeding through her speakers. 

It was then she bit her lips once more, reaching around to unclasp her bra. She pulled the straps slowly down her arms, a teasing motion to rile up her professor all the more. She held onto the cups, wanting her breasts to be the last thing she revealed to him and when she did, he audibly sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands came to touch her chest, her fingers pinching at her own nipples as she continued to watch him, wanting to relieve herself of some of the sexual tension Dean had instilled in her. 

“Take those panties off too, sweetheart,” he ordered, a deep moan rumbling through his chest as he watched how Y/N obeyed him. Her slender fingers hooking in the waistband of her lace underwear before she slowly shimmied them down her legs. “Now sit back down, open those legs and show me what I’ve been thinking of.”

Y/N was quick to do as she was told. The power in his voice, the way it affected her; she’d do anything he asked. She sat herself back in her office chair but she was unsure of how to look sexy on an item of furniture that moves. He wanted to see all of her and she was wet just thinking about it. So, she scooted closer to her desk and raised her feet, placing her soles on the edge of the wooden desk before opening her legs as far as she could; giving him the perfect view. 

“Now that’s a sight,” he growled, his pace quickening and Y/N moaned in response, his praise offering her a fresh wave of arousal. “I’d love to be nipping at those thighs, my tongue on your clit.” His words were laced with jagged breaths, his chest heaving as his eyes stayed glued to the screen. 

“Touch yourself, Y/N,” he instructed, her fingers automatically going to her sensitive nub at his words. “Show me what you’d want me to do to you.”

Where would she even begin? Y/N had thought about this moment many times, she’d thought about all the tropes you’d hear when you’ve got feelings for your professor; having to stay behind after class, being called to his office, but this situation had never crossed her mind. She had wanted him since she had laid eyes on him, she wanted him to ruin her in the best possible way and now she has a chance to virtually allow him to do that. 

She ghosted her hand over her mound, imagining that it was Dean’s large, freckled hand instead of hers. Arching her back, she slid between her folds, her fingers stroking her sensitive nub and her body jerked at the sensation. It had been too long since she’d had any kind of release and she was already desperate for more. She allowed her delicate digits to travel lower, dipping inside of her causing her to gasp. 

“That’s it, baby,” Dean moaned, his panting spurring her on to do more. 

Y/N worked herself hard, chasing her delirium as she listened to the sound of Dean’s groans that were echoing around her room from her speakers. She let out a shaky breath as she brought her free hand to touch her breast, pinching her nipple between her fingers as she imagined that it was her professor's hand instead. She found it exhilarating the fact that he was near enough eye level with her core and she knew he wouldn’t be long until she found herself on the edge of ecstasy. 

She opened her eyes, peering at her laptop screen where she saw Dean, his hand fisting his length as he pumped to the sight of her, his breathing ragged, his tongue peeking over his delightful pink lips. The mere sight of him like that was enough to spur Y/N’s orgasm on, her toes begging to curl around the desk as that all too familiar feeling built inside of her. She continued her pursuit of pleasure, closing her eyes once more as she threw her head back against the chair. 

“D-Dean,” she moaned, her chest rising and falling as her end came near. 

She was close, her feet pressed hard against the desk causing her chair to move slightly as her fingers worked overtime. Her skin was flushed, her legs were beginning to shake and all she could hear was the sound of Dean’s guttural moans as he watched her. She had never felt more sexy in her life. 

“I’m-i’m,” she stammered, a strong bolt of pleasure silencing her as she came. Her mouth opened in a silent ‘o’ as her legs shook widely. “Oh my god,” she moaned, finding it hard to catch her breath as she dared to look at the screen. 

“Fuck, Y/N!” Dean growled, his dick twitching as he too came all over his hand and stomach. She watched as he pumped his orgasm from himself, transfixed at the sight of his face. His lips were a little more pink, his cheeks were flushed and there was a light sheen of sweat adorning his chest. She just wished she could be there to experience it in person. After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he picked up his shirt from the floor to clean up as he looked up at the screen, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Now that, is what I call a lesson,” he cheekily remarked and Y/N felt heat flare in her cheeks once more. 

“I agree,” she panted, suddenly feeling self conscious as she moved her shaking legs to place her feet flat to the floor, covering her torso with her arms as she bashfully looked at the screen. She caught the look on his face and felt her stomach flutter at the way his eyes glistened at her, his smile warm and adoring. 

“I feel like we need to work on this distraction technique, sweetheart,” he commented, adding a small wink as Y/N smiled wildy.  “Same time tomorrow?” Dean asked her, a hopeful look on his face as he awaited her answer. There wasn’t any question, she’d be wherever he wanted her to be in a heartbeat. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

——————————————

A/N: I hope you’ve enjoyed this little oneshot! Please let me know your thoughts by comment, reblog or just HERE! :) They mean the world!

Also - my tag lists are open. Just let me know if you want to be added!

Thanks for reading! xox

Forever Babes:

@squirrel-moose-winchester​ / @snffbeebee​ / @cappsikle​ / @couldabeenamermaid​ / @spaghettiwoes​ / @lynne1993​ / @maddiepants​ / @alwaysdreamingforthebest​ / @31shadesofbrown​ / @mrswhozeewhatsis​ /  @thefaithfulwriter​ / @spnbaby-67​ / @not-quite-dead​ / @blackcherrywhiskey​ / @helpmeluci​ / @myownsnowflake​ / @hobby27​ / @big-sad-energy​ / @coffee-obsessed-writer​ / @spnhollis​ / @zoerayne2426​/ @ariasnyder​ / @phantom-soilder​ / @amandamdiehl​ / @geeksareunique​ / @keymology​ / @markofdean79​ / @flamencodiva​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @stoneyggirl​ / @cpag7​ / @heavensangel45135​ / @dapresidentsshoelaces​ / @donnaintx​ / @deanwinchesterficsx​ / @tranquility-or-chaos​ / @katehuntington​ / @miraclesoflove​ / @s-ravenall​ / @pisces-cutie​ / @chocolateheart​ / @deanwanddamons​ / @jayesdream​ / @idksupernatural​ / @talesmaniac89​ / @superfanficnatural​ / @parinarain​/ @daughterofthenight117​ /  / @emoryhemsworth​ / @waywardbeanie​ / @whatareyousearchingfordean​

Dean Queens:  @x-waywardaf-x​ / @adoptdontshoppets​ / @roonyxx​ / @akshi8278​ / @squirrelnotsam​ / @ellewritesfix05​ / @mellilla-rose / @hardcoresupernatural​

[futurebicon]

Oh my god the kids doing online classes together

Yes

Also please suggest names for this series and any thing you would want me to write

Remus walked into one of the spare room they had set up as an impromptu office. He laughed quietly as he saw the sight inside.

7 teenagers were spread out across the room. Only Caspin was sitting at a desk, well, the only one sitting correctly at a desk.

Fizzy had moved her desk beside his and was laying on her bacl. Her head on half of his desk, he carded his fingers through her hair as he listened to his lecture.

Ginny was sitting upside down over her desk. Luna was under Ginnys desk in a fort she had created for herself.

Draco and Harry were on a bed of bean bags. They had class together so they turned off Harrys sound and listened on Dracos computer as they cuddled.

“We all have our mics off” Fizzy told him.

“Sirius went to grab Wendy’s for you guys.” He told them.

“I grabbed Wendy’s for them” Sirius pecked his husbands lips before he put the food in the middle of the room, moving as they all scrambled to grab their food.

Ginny grabbed Lunas for her while Fizzy grabbed Caspins.

“Thank you Papa” Fizzy said as her dads left the room.

“Thanks Sirius” echoed after her.

Caspin hit a bell that was on his desk a few minutes later.

They had created a system to let each other know when their mic was on after a very entertaining incident of Harry turning his mic on at the same time Fizzy screamed “FUCK THIS IM DROPPING OUT AND BECOMING A STRIPPER”

“Wouldn’t the reaction cause burns?” Caspin answered the question. He was going to college to be a teacher and for some ungodly reason he had to take chemistry.

“Correct” Caspins professor told him.

The sound of him clicking his mic off was heard and everyone clapped for him.

“Well thank you” he smiled.

“Fiz, answer ‘Sewed their name into their clothes’ in history. He said no one has gotten it today.” Harry told her.

“Thanks. Answer ‘body’ in forensics.”

“It still amazes me that they offer a murder class to high schoolers.” Caspin shook his head.

“It’s not a murder class. It’s a crime solving class.” Fizzy smiled at him.

“Oh then, my apologies” Caspin kissed her with a smile.

“You’re forgiven”

“You guys don’t even want to go into criminology after high school so why are you taking the class?” Ginny asked.

“Because I’ve been watching Criminal Minds since I was 5 and I am the best in the class” Fizzy smirked.

“And shes ranted to me about Criminal Minds since we were 5 so I’m decent in the class” Harry added.

“Class is over” Luna announced, knowing everyone was too distracted to log off their meet.

“Thank you love” Ginny ended the meet and turned onto her stomach, leaning into the fort and kissed Luna before raising back up like a push up. “Wait that’s fun”

She clicked onto her next class and continued to swing into Lunas fort, kissing her each time and smiling when she giggled.

“Oh to have your core strength.” Fizzy sighed.

The high schoolers worked for a half an hour before Caspins class was over.

“Damn it I need my camera on for this class” He groaned.

“No” Fizzy whined.

“You can still stay there, baby. I just can’t kiss you or talk to any of you. And my teachers an ass so don’t make me laugh”

“Heh heh, that rhymed” Harry said.

“Shut up” Caspin told him and turned on his camera.

He made it through the class with only three paper airplanes thrown at him and 5 fake coughs so he could laugh.

“You’re all bitches” He glared when he left the class.

“Hey!” Fizzy exclaimed.

“Except for you” He kissed her.

+++

“I don’t cook I don’t clean but let me tell you how I got this ring” Harry muttered a little too loudly.

“GOBBLE ME SWALLOW ME, DRIP DOWN INSIDE OF ME QUICK JUMP OUT ‘FORE YOU LET IT GET INSIDE OF ME I TELL HIM WHERE TO PUT IT NEVER TELL HIM WHERE IM BOUT TO BE I RUN DOWN ON HIM ‘FORE I HAVE A RUNNING ME” Everyone screamed at the top of their lungs.

“TALK YOUR SHIT BITE YOUR LIP ASK FOR A CAR WHILE YOU RIDE THAT DICK YOU REALLY AINT NEVER GOTTA FUCK HIM FOR A THANG HE ALREADY MADE HIS MIND UP BEFORE HE CAME.” They went back to their school work immediately.

“Are you guys okay?” Sirius stuck his head in with an extremely confused look.

“Yeah we’re good. Why?” Fizzy asked.

@lumosinlove

[ennui-gt]

Here it is. A Piece Of Borrower Content Written Entirely In Stream Of Consciousness:

AN: so this is incomplete and very…needs revisions to the timeline to incorporate some things I added later! It’s the original universe that Mira’s from! I edited it like Slightly to just change Ross’s name to Ross (if u see Max anywhere that’s his old one I just felt like changing it so that’s just him but different. Anyway) Everything's under the readmore tab, cheers!

The Library Fairy:

-

Basic Plot (Chrono, comic starts from human perspective abt the ‘legend of the library fairy’ ig maybe. Nothing here is permanent cept the characterization)

Part A

1- Mira is borrower currently chillin in a college library

2- She lives off of the cafe on the second floor nd reads lots and lots of stuff about everything when the upper floors close (lower floor open 24/7 but upper floors r vacant p much after 12:00 AM)

3- she starts getting increasingly curious about human stuff cos she’s literate nd books r pry neat

4- it starts one night when she spots an unattended notebook and a half eaten blueberry muffin, nd it’s 12:30 so nobody’s coming back in atm (it’s the 80s so no laptops for the plebians quite yet)

5- so she goes ‘welp’ nd takes part of the muffin, then sees the work on the page and goes ‘hmmmm this is incorrect’ so she helps our and leaves notes here n there to point the kid in the right direction and puts down some book refs for further study bcos at this point she’s been there for 2 years and she knows where most things are

6- she stays behind to see if the human comes back for it, hidden in a hidey hole near the desk

7- human comes in, sees notebook, practically melts w relief nd stuffs it in his bag

8- next day human comes back nd leaves nother notebook and a cookie, along w a hidden camera

9- Mira goes ‘o boy, this a trap, innit’

10- Mira then decides ‘eh whatever I haven’t had contact w anyone in years now so I might as well’

11- she steals the camera film nd leaves a lil scrap of paper saying ‘nice try ;)’ on it

12- student comes back, sees paper, goes ‘dammit’, then leaves note addressed to the ‘library fairy’ and another cookie, as well as more of their work for her to help with

13- bout a decade goes by and now the “Library Fairy” is an urban myth, it’s currently 2003 so she’s also wound up on the school’s unofficial Wikipedia page under ‘local cryptids’

14- most library employees know of her but they don’t go looking out of fear stemming from superstitions bout her, somehow the legend grew from ‘can’t be photographed’ to ‘a student once saw her and died that day’

15- there’s now a small shrine devoted to her where ppl bring offerings hoping to get good grades in return, sometimes they will leave papers for her to proofread nd stuff

16- new prof (named Alexei) finds online article thinks he Knows What’s Up bcos he had a borrower friend as a kid, but they left when borrower’s fam found out about them knowing each other

17- he leaves note wedged in one of her secret entrances behind outlet, asking if she can meet w him at some point

18- Mira, already In it, goes ‘Okay. Alright. This has gone on for long enough. Time to go and never return’ but ofc she’s curious as all hell and like she decides she will at least honor the guy’s request for a convo b4 she goes, but on her terms and w/o speaking face 2 face

19- they Talk in the library after hours, bcos he paid off the janitor to let him stay after hours nd most of the student employees recognize him as a prof nd leave him alone

20- they talk again for every subsequent night

21- she uhhhh finally decides to reveal herself nd prays that her hunch was right nd he won’t try to grab her or anything

22- he doesn’t but she’s nervous so she winds up gettin caught in her own climbing rope like idiot, is now dangling from ceiling in tangled mess

23- he stifles chuckle nd she says smthn sarcastic

24- he moves closer and offers to untangle her

25- she’s like ‘please’

26- so he do, but her grip on the rope slips nd he has to catch her

26- so now she’s in his hand and he just sets her down and now he’s a bumbling embarrassed mess bcos he said he wasn’t going to hold her and he just did and o dear pls forgib him

28- nd she’s like ‘dude u just saved my life it’s fine ur fine chill’

29- internally she’s going HOLY FUCK AAAAAAA but externally, her human’s already worked up enough as it is so she’s gotta b the level headed one

29.5- after a while they both kinda get used to each other more, he gets tenure, they celebrate, some more stuff happens, Aleksei got married (not to Mira, Mira hasn’t actually rly thought about being in a relationship w anyone cos she’s laser focused on gaining as much knowledge as possible)

30- eventually Alexei’s like ‘hey so I’m dean of faculty for the biotech branch now uhhhh would u like actual job teaching students? Cos, uh, you can do it remotely thru online lectures n stuff, no in person interaction, and I uh was just kinda wondering—‘

31- she’s like ‘yes. Yes!!! LET ME HELP PEOPLE OFFICIALLY KINDA’

32- so now she’s a professor, and has revealed her Secret a few times here n there to a number of the faculty, nd she has recorded her own findings in a personal journal

33- ‘humans will treat u like a human if they think ur human first. The kids call it ‘catfishing’’

34- enter Ross, an mall goth who accidentally tripped headfirst into a premed program

35- Mira’s favorite field of study is bio so naturally she’s his prof for a majority of his classes

36- being the good boy that he is, he now knows Mira’s secret. There is an Entire Chapter on him finding out and legit just continuing their conversation as if everything was normal bcos he thought that was how he was supposed to handle the situation

37- then she says ‘u can ask questions, u know’ he’s like OH THANK FUCK CAUSE I HAVE SEVEN HUNDRED OF THOSE

38- and now he kinda knows what to look for in terms of ‘do borrowers live here check yes or no’

39-in his apartment, the answer is yes and he mistakenly kinda stumbles upon the mom one night when he wakes up in the middle of the night for Snack and opts to pretend like its not happening. Unfortunately the thing she was trying 2 borrow (piece of crumb cake for Son Boy’s birthday) is the thing he wants 2 eat so he’s like “uh. ‘Scuse me, ma’am.” and he peels back the saran wrap on the other side of the plate, takes piece, nd then leaves some there for her

40-so now the woman is like ‘welp guess it time 2 Leave’

.1- she and husband Talk

.2-they decide it best 2 go

.3-theyre Packing

.4-lil bab Ellie confused

.5-hawk attacke

.6-cut to Ross

41- Ross also happens to work at a bar and he goes outside for a break

43- he finds smal child—smol smal—on the sidewalk and said child is missing an arm, nd has lost a lot of blood, so he’s uhhhhh Losing It highkey

43.5-parents r nowhere 2 b seen, but the hawk is nearby and circling. Ross gets an idea of what just happened

44- he up and leaves work, thankfully his apartment is above the shop so he jumps up the fire escape w the child and

45- he make tourniquet

46- he calls Mira nd asks her 2 come over to ASAP. he’s A Mess at this point

47- it is Very touch and go, kid needs blood, Mira is the only viable donor so she’s just gotta pray that the blood type is fine and won’t kill him

48- and then eventually they manage 2 stave infection thru antibiotics properly dosed to his size, Mira does Math and Prays basically

49- ‘bout a month in, kid wakes up

50- kid doesn’t rember much since he’s only 3

51- hes v scared of Ross at first but over time he gets used 2 the human

52- kid (elliot) starts 2 call Ross ‘dad’ after a while

53- Ross: *internal screaming but in a good way*

54- the end kinda for now

Part 2

A- New Borrowers In The Building

—three of em. paranoid dad, mom, nd daughter that’s Elliot’s age so he’s pumped

B- Elliot offers them a place 2 stay briefly

C- he knows by now bout like, how borrowers don’t typically interact w humans and Auntie Mira’s a bit of a weird case so he just doesn’t tell em bout his dad being the human

D- the kid finds out first nd doesn’t tell the parents, but they figure it out later kinda and think that it’s a ‘o god he’s being kept as a pet’ sitch so they’re >:| abt it

E- they move out and try to take Elliot w them (by force bcos they think he’s brainwashed) but he escapes and makes it to Ross, who’s like “uhhhhhh”

F- and the mom come out the hole near the counter n starts yelling at Ross, who is…kinda used to it since Mira brings in ppl who need help from time 2 time and they typically don’t react well when they’re lucid enough to understand what’s going on. He’s just not used to being questioned about his own kid

G- so they’re like “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING WITH HIM”

H- and he’s like “r…raising him???”

I- and Ellie steps up and he’s like “this is my dad. I decided he was my dad when I was three. He’s being a good parent”

J- and Ross is like “yeah what he said. I’m a good parent.”

K- Ross is riding that high til the end of fucking time but like back to the story at hand

L- this is when the husband comes out nd is like “lissen. wifey. ily but that is a very big human and he hasn’t grabbed us yet so let’s count our blessings and gtfo”

M- but she’s like “uh no we stay until I’m sure Elliot is Safe and fucking Sound”

N- so they stay for dinner nd stick around a little longer.

O- Val (the kid) gets closer 2 Elliot and also Ross a bit

P- Mira shows once or twice, first time she shows up they’re like “oh god it’s the crazy doctor lady this all makes sense now” (bcos Mira does check up on as many borrower families as possible in her free time so word has got around by now Of her, and the number by which to contact her in case her services r needed)

Q- After a month or so, then they decide to leave bcos they’re like “look we get that ur son is ur son and he only has one arm and in our profession that is kind of a death sentence but we can’t have our kid getting used to dealing w humans who know about our existence” so they go and leave on a kind of sour note bcos Ellie can do anything he wants to do just as well as any other borrower Thank You Very Much and Ross is ready to fite anyone who thinks otherwise

R- Elliot starts trying 2 b more independent, basically from now on he’s like ‘I can do everything my Damn Self Thanks’

S- but uh he does it to a point where he’s going out of the way to endanger himself

T- so they get into a fite about it and ross Yells and Elliot is like ‘kthxbye’

U- and the boi just. Fuckin bolts. Runs Away. Ross is a Mess, he starts smoking again (he quit cold turkey the day he took Elliot in) to curb the depression, he’s jus. Not doin good, worried that his son is dead and the last time they talked it’d ended badly

V- FREEDOM!!!1! Except Ellie doesn’t kno how to take care of himself so it’s a rough month or so and then he runs into some other borrowers livin in their own town in the wild ig, chillin, being hella independent, and he’s like “uh yes ofc I will join u, I was w my dad for a while but.........” he neither confirms nor denies that his dad’s dead but everyone kinda just assumes.

Part 3

W-anyway a year goes by and then the borrower group gets hit hard w some kind of sickness ig. Elliot gets it too he’s basically incapacitated n drifting in and out of lucidity. So. They contact the weird crazy doctor lady who hangs around humans, a.k.a. Mira, and she’s like “oh. fuck. I know this kid.” bcos she does, u kno, and she jus treats em all for their ailment and shows them how to make antibiotic poultice thing in case smthn like it happens again. Mold. Penicillin is basically what it is

X-she and Elliot hav a Chat (Mira basically yells at him a lot) once he’s fixed up and he decides he’s gonna visit his dad but he makes it very clear that he is a Grown Up (he’s not, he’s literally sixteen), and he is living on his own now

Y- he agrees to stay for a week tho since he misses his home a lot tbh and Ross is just. Over the fucking moon to know he’s ALIVE, he’s not gonna fuck up their relationship by insisting that he stay. Or like, by keeping him ofc he would never

Z- unfortunately the borrower community put two and two together and figured out his dad’s human so they have his stuff packed up when he gets back w mira, who’s ready to go the fuck off on them

End 1:

-Ellie is living at Ross’s place atm and hopeful about the future basically. He eventually will go off on his own but he’ll keep in contact w his dad and stuff

Part C.5

55- few yrs later

56- elliot is Adult now he does adult borrower stuff

57- he moves out

58- finds nice borrower gf (her name’s Tess)

59- doesn’t tell her about his dad being human but talks about his dad a LOT

60- so when she asks to meet said father he’s just like “uh. Maybe we don’t do that actually”

61- and she’s like “y tho”

62- and he’s like “bcos”

63- anyway she decides to look into it cos she knows he goes to see his dad nd keep in touch but his dad is allegedly “a recluse who lives in the big scary human’s walls to avoid other ppl”

64- which is. Not true in the slightest tbqh he’s def not an introvert he’s just a workaholic and he Is the big scary human

65- anywho they run into Val and her wife and she’s like “how’s Ross been?” And Elliot is acting Very Suspish so she, being Smart, calls it immediately and is like “oh shit u haven’t told her yet have u”

66- Tess: “told me what”

67- Val: “El’s dad is a human, bro.”

68- Tess: “I’m sorry?”

69- this results in a Big Fight and they separate for like, a month. Elliot blames Val bcos he’s being irrational and doesn’t wanna admit to the fact that lying to his girlfriend for over a year was Real Bad Actually, but over time he’s like ‘yeah it’s my fault sry for snapping at u’ cos he works thru his emotions n stuff

70- Eventually gf comes back cos she’s like “ok so. I understand why you lied to me about your dad. It was a dick move but I do get it and I still care about you a lot. I would like. To meet him.”

80- this is a lie she does not want to meet him she is doing this bcos she does not want to lose Elliot and that outweighs the fear of his dad

81- so they go to meet him but she’s just kinda. Behind the wall at first like “that’s a crazy big human this is crazy ur crazy it’s time to gO”

82- Val is also there bcos she hasn’t seen Ross in a while

83- they eventually coax her out of hiding

84- and by that I mean Val picks her up and drags her out into the open by force bcos she basically freezes up the second she catches sight of Ross and Val’s like “u didn’t come all this way for nothing, bich”

85- they have a Painfully Awkward First Meeting, Tess is trying her best but oh god he’s just too fucking. Larg. Ellie ur dad too big

86- tbh tho the ice kinda breaks after Ellie and Ross get into a fight over smthn stupid (im thinking Elliot grumbles bout Ross’s hair being unruly and he’s worried that mira’s using it like a personal storage system again and Ross is like “I’ve been keeping better track of that actually” and then like a little line of paper clips and a few hand-bound notebooks tied together w some string fall out of his fucking mane and he’s like “I can explain”

87- “dad you can’t keep letting her use your hair like a fucking NEST”

88- Tess is laughing now cos god damn this was not what she was expecting

89- that’s it the end it ends w Tess laughing at them being idiots good times r had by all

Uhhhh that’s it so far. I have More but it’s kinda jumbled rn and I need to fit stuff in places. Anyway.

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 149

August 7

I've been too busy or distracted for the last few days to properly inundate you all with kitten pictures, but that ends now! You have been warned! Today I had lights and a fully charged phone and the will to use them, so you are going to feel the wrath of this fully armed and operational cat lady. I am also posting this during first dinnertime, so my background music is tiny Katara making improbably loud smacking noises while she eats babycat food mixed with warm water. 

Clockwise from top left: Zuko, Sokka, Katara, Aang

Now that the kittens are debugged and down to about 30% of their original hissiness levels, they are ready for cuddle times. Zuko won the best cuddler award today by actually purring when I picked him up, so he is my current favorite. Sokka needs his nails trimmed very badly, Katara is picking up the hissing slack for her unacceptably trusting brothers, and Aang has finally started using the litterbox but cries when he poops. (This is not uncommon for kittens who are first learning to go unstimulated, but I'm going to keep an eye on him to make sure he's not constipated.)  Four weeks is a very fun age, so this should be a good kitten week, knock on wood. They are all eating well and don't need a bottle, which makes my life way easier. 

Zuko and Aang

Katara still thinks I might be planning on eating her. She is the size of my hand but will go down hissing all the same.

It is just as well that these guys are weaned because the MPRE snuck right up on me. I started studying a couple weeks ago, but there's always so much to do. BARBRI's MPRE study program is funny because it's basically a taste test of their bar review program for the 2L students who typically sit for the MPRE. It's set up exactly like the bar review course, but where the typical bar review lecture is 2-3 hours, these lectures are about 15-20 minutes and each one covers a discrete subtopic of professional responsibility. Altogether, they are maybe just a little bit longer than the professional responsibility lecture I listened to for the bar review back in February. (Many states do not include PR on their bar exam at all because of the MPRE, but Virginia has more testable subjects than any other state and throws that one in as well, so I got a module on it.) In any case, I have been listening to these little bite sized lectures and doing the learning questions, then looking at the outline, then moving on. I plan to have all the modules done by tomorrow, then spend the weekend doing the three practice tests, sixty questions each. All three practice tests together are not as long as the bar exam practice test! I keep reminding myself that even though the subject matter is limited and I've covered the material many times before, I have to take it seriously. It would be both inconvenient and extremely embarrassing to pass the bar exam and fail the fucking MPRE at this late date. I'm also going to have to take at least one of those practice tests with a mask on, bleah. 

Ha, I have successfully tricked the kittens out of sleeping in their yucky litterbox (they are too young for nice clumping litter because they might eat it) by offering them a decoy litterbox with a towel in it. Cats do love boxes! 

(Sokka is behind the box, he is so fuzzy I cannot get him in focus for a solo picture.)

The kiddo and I went to the library today for the first time since March! It only opened on Wednesday and there were very few people there, but they'd arranged it so there's lots of open space and a counter right by the front where a friendly guy offered us hand sanitizer and reminded us about social distance. We were finally able to turn in March's library books, which had fine amnesty thank God, and snagged some new stuff. I wasn't feeling creative so I took advantage of the lack of patrons to snag a couple of newer Nora Roberts books, the kind that are usually hard to get hold of. I read a funny meme the other day of "2020 As Described by Nora Roberts Books" that showed Happily Ever After for January, Storm Warning for February, and then seven copies of Shelter In Place for March through August. The kiddo got a couple of graphic novels and also picked out two books with no pictures at all after I promised I'd get him a magnifying glass if he wanted it. Kiddo is farsighted and has glasses to read, but he may need a new prescription. I should get on that. 

Okay, knowing myself as I do, I took a brief break there to order some cheap little sheet magnifiers off Amazon because I try to keep my promises. It is hard when you are very forgetful, but I try! Not too much else to report today, oh, except I went into my primary doctor's office for the first time in many months. It was for a heat rash, of all things, but I just couldn't get it to go away! I could probably have done it online, but when it's a rash it's kind of easier to just go in there than to try and find the right light and the phone with the best camera, and this way I don't have a lot of weird pictures of my armpit for posterity. She gave me a steroid cream prescription and it is starting to feel better already. 

While I was getting the prescription filled, I got way, way too excited about the electronics clearance at Rite Aid and bought fifty dollars worth of stuff. (By Rite Aid's calculation it was 200 dollars worth of stuff because I spent 50 and saved 150, but you know how their prices are.) In any case, I got two wall chargers and a car charger, two sets of earbuds, a stereo headset with microphone  for virtual school, and the piece de resistance, a waterproof Bluetooth speaker that also has a multicolored light display. The kiddo is in love already and I hope it encourages him to more frequent showering. My 50 also bought me some melatonin gummies, some multivitamin gummies, a bag of chocolate snacky stuff, and two packs of Magic: the Gathering decks that the kiddo was distinctly underwhelmed by. He likes Pokemon cards so much despite not having the first idea how to play, I thought these might be good too. I'll set them aside in case he gets interested later. I am pretty sure that four dollars apiece is not bad for 60 card decks, even if they are planeswalker themed. Anyway it was a nice haul and now I can stop bitching at everyone and no-one every time I can't find a wall charger to plug into. A small price to pay for peace of mind! (And the cream itself cost $2.19, so at least I can feel a little good about our truly exorbitant health insurance this week.) 

Who wouldn’t believe this guy can save the world? 

[mitchmarnier]

writing prompt masterlist #1

 Of course, there’s 75 million prompt lists out there but i figured there’s nothing wrong with making my own. Send me a category + a number + a pairing and i’ll write you a fic. Okay to reblog and use :) (x)

Fake/Secret/Etc Dating AUs:

my parents keep setting me up on blind dates but in reality I’m dating you and it’s so you help me get out of them

i hate commitment but my dad’s dying wish is to see me get married and you’re an old family friend i ran into at the airport on my way to visit him so hey let’s get engaged

you need a plus-one for your brother’s wedding so i’m going as a favor but there’s been a misunderstanding and now your whole family thinks we’re engaged

i’m mad at my parents so i ask you out because they wouldn’t approve of you and you’re well aware that i’m just using you but you agree because you find it funny but hey you’re actually super sweet

there’s this really creepy person hitting on me and i don’t know you but you pretending to be my partner completely saved my ass thanks how about i buy you a drink

we’re just really touchy friends and we get each other gifts all the time but everyone thinks we’re going out and we let them think that but why are you getting upset about me going on a date we’re not actually together? 

I’m sorry you always thought your love for me was unrequited but on to more important matters YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING SO YOU HAVE A DECISION TO MAKE YOU ASSHOLE!

Our mutual friend apparently has been waiting for us to get together and so they’re very angry/disappointed/upset when they find out that the reason we kissed last night was because we were black-out drunk

everyone thinks we hate each other and we keep that front up in public, so we have hilarious pretend fights and squabbles and pranks 

when we were little I accidentally mentioned that I had a crush on you but I always thought you didn’t hear me because you just looked at me weird and never commented but now we’re in high school and omg you just introduced me as your boyfriend/girlfriend/datemate wtf we never discussed this

friends to lovers aus

You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you

You’ve liked me for ages and were really obvious about it and I didn’t like all the attention but now you’re over me I really miss it and fuck I think I like you too?

 You want us both to get in shape and I hate working out/running but your ass looks really good in shorts oh the things I do for my friends and their nice asses

Our best friends are that awful ‘cute’ couple that make-out in public and call each other “sweetie” and “sugar” and “babe” and god they’re awful let’s talk about how awful they are – develops into “shit we’re the awful couple now”

Celebrity/Famous AUs

listen, you may be a famous (and extremely attractive) guitarist, but that gives you no right to practise on the electric at two a.m when we live right next to each other.

We broke up and I used my feelings to write songs and now I’m super popular and you want me back

we decided to make a fake vlog drama for our subscribers and they all think it’s real but jokes on us we end up actually liking each other

I run a prank channel and you were some innocent bystander I pranked for a video but then it turns out hey, you’re also famous online haha shit

we met and started talking but i didn’t know you were a rising star until i noticed cameras following me wtf

you’re a reporter and i think you’re super cute so i’ll only give you personal interviews to help your career and also get you to talk to me more

I’m a celebrity and I have a secret social media account and we started talking online and now we’re close friends but you want to meet up oh shit

I’m a celebrity and I may or may not be following your blog which is dedicated to me. reading your comments and tags are hilarious and very flattering and I’m somewhat smitten  

You’re an actor/other famous person that I really admire and I just saw you in the street and as I was debating whether or not to say hi you came up to me and started flirting what do I do??

wedding/kids/marriage/long term relationship AUs

we’ve been dating forever, and you just caught the bouquet at our friend’s wedding

remember when we were in high school and we swore that if we were still single at 30 we’d marry each other, well hey guess whose birthday it is

i’m a runaway bride/groom and you’re driving my getaway car

I suddenly bumped into you after years and wow you look good but holy crap is that a kid?? since when?

you had a breakdown because the baby wouldn’t stop crying and you kept saying how you weren’t ready and how you couldn’t do it

whenever my kid starts crying I just hand them to you and then they just stop and start smiling

“i’m so sorry that my child pointed out how your shirt- actually nevermind i agree, that shirt is horrendous”

i always tease you because that’s just our thing we tease each other but for some reason you snapped at me and are you okay? what’s wrong?

my in-laws despise me GREAT but around you they’re super nice so you don’t believe me

neighbours AUs

You always complain about how loud I am (whether it be TV, video games or music/musical instrument is up to you) and this is the first time you’ve actually knocked on my apartment door and given me a lecture there rather than giving me a phone call, but I’m not really listening because I didn’t  realise I had such a cute neighbour

you never open your door for children on halloween so i always pay the kids to smear your door with shaving cream

my printer isnt printing anymore and my papers are due tomorrow so im on my knees in front of your door begging to use your printer when the old lady from above passes us and thinks im proposing to you

we always run into each other on the stairs but we’ve never said more than hello but when we found out that we both hate the other neighbours, we became friends

i came home drunk and wouldnt stop knocking on your door. when you open i keep telling you to get out of my apartment

after a rough party night i find you sleeping on the stairs but since im still a little asshole all i do is put a blanket over you and a pillow under your head

Please help me, I know you have a kid and my sibling just dropped their baby on me where’s the button to put them to sleep?

I’m stressed and sleep-deprived, please let me pet your cat. 

I have really weird dreams and you have really weird dreams so now we’re in this contest to see who has the weirdest dreams.

Strangers/Meet Cute (or meet very NOT cute) AUs 

We were sitting next to each other in a public place and I saw a mosquito on you and my instincts just acted before my mind.

We mixed up our clothes at the laundry service and I have nothing left to wear and every thing you wear is too big/small for me.

We’re at a comic book store and if you tell me your superhero is better than mine I’m gonna have to punch you in the teeth.

There are no table left at this restaurant and you let me sit at yours since you’re alone.

I’m a single grown-up with busy friends but I want to go to Disneyland so I drop a message on a forum to find someone like me to go wear silly Mickey ears headband and stuff ourselves with cotton candy.

My computer broke down so I called an IT and now I need to find a reason to call them back so I delete important files and download adwares and do all kinds of stupid things. 

I almost dropped something and in my fumbling attempts to stop it from hitting the floor I accidentally projectiled it at your face and it’s a really nice face I’m so sorry

first day at a new job and oh fuck my boss is the person I drunkenly hooked up with last weekend/night

I wanted to go on the ferris wheel but there has to be two people to a cart come on random person let’s go oh wait are we stuck at the top? Fuck

 Our mutual friend set us up on a blind date and I thought I’d hate it but you’re actually… kind of funny? But because I expected to hate it in no way am I going to let you change my mind just because you’re gorgeous and funny and intelligent oh no my friend is not winning this

college/high school AUs:

i went on a date with a boy who had plans to take me to dinner and drinks. but he lost his wallet at a pizza place so we just walked around the neighborhood, sat in the park and talked.

we’re in the same study group but we dont talk but you brought goldfish and im starving

we have the same notebook and we took the wrong ones home so i used your notes on my open book test

you were my elementary school crush but you moved away but somehow we end up miraculously going to the same college and i barely recognized you because holy hot damn you are more attractive than i remember?

I tripped over on my way to this party and I’m bleeding profusely from the grazes on my knees and you’re a complete stranger that pretty much jumped me the second I walked in the door to play nurse

ive had a crush on you for 3+ years and now youre going out with my best friend and i definitely havent locked myself in a toilet cubicle to cry

We’re in different debate classes and I was constructing a case on the board and I come in the next morning and you’ve replied to all my points really well?? But I don’t even know your name? And oh shit, we’re taking over the entire whiteboard, is that your phone number squeezed into the corner of the board there?

You have braces and I don’t and I keep forgetting you’re not allowed to have gum so every time I offer, you give this death glare

You sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to prom on the day of prom and I’m not in town

I’m a notorious goody two shoes and you look like you get into fights on a daily basis, so when you were in the library on the first day I was supposed to be a tutor, I assumed I’d be tutoring you. But, as it turns out, we’re both tutors, and the people we’re tutoring keep blowing us off to make out and we have to go round them up

we have a mutual best friend but they cannot find out how much i like you then they’ll tell you, but i need to find out if you’re single!

I sat down in the wrong class and I’m panicking but don’t want to get up and leave because the class has started and you think it’s hilarious 

You pissed me off in class so I threw a book at your head and now I’m in detention and jesus fuck I hate you so much and the teacher made me apologise and wait you’re cuter up close

soulmate aus

if one soulmate gets an injury, the other gets it as well.

Character A has a soulmate, but Character A died before they got to meet them. As Character A navigates the afterlife in their ghostly form, they discover that they can’t “move on” until they’ve met their soulmate.

 the very first words your soulmate ever says to you are tattooed somewhere on your body since the day you are born

when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever, it will show up on your soul mates skin as well.

You get an ‘impression’ of your soulmate when you turn 18 or something but all I got was a strong smell of bananas or something

you have a compass on your wrist and it directs you to where your soulmate is

i usually think i’m having a conversation with myself in my head but it turns out we’re telepathically connected

everybody is born with a map “tattooed” on their forearm that’s centered on the exact location of where they’ll first meet their soul mate 

[lastsonlost]

Comedian Ricky Gervais is clearly enjoying himself as he rides the outrage wave from his fan-loved and Hollywood-loathed performance as the host of the Golden Globes Sunday night. After gaining hundreds of thousands of followers as a result of his celebrity slamming performance, Gervais took a moment early Wednesday to provide a helpful list of reminders about humor for his “offended” critics — many of whom happen to be journalists, who Gervais also made sure to mock.

In his instantly famous opening remarks at the awards show Sunday (transcript below), Gervais announced that it was his “last time” hosting the show and then promptly proceeded to do what so many viewers have been longing for a host to do: put virtue-signaling Hollywood in its place. “Let’s go out with a bang, let’s have a laugh at your expense,” he said at the start. “Remember, they’re just jokes. We’re all gonna die soon and there’s no sequel, so remember that.” After calling out Hollywood hypocrisy — including on sexual misconduct, corporate corruption and human rights abuses — Gervais ended his blistering opening statement by telling all the winners, “If you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent, and your God and f*** off, OK?”

His brutal rebuke of Hollywood was met with predictable outrage from many, including media figures and journalists, which Gervais pointed out in one tweet Tuesday.

“I always knew that there were morons in the world that took jokes seriously, but I’m surprised that some journalists do,” he wrote (tweet below). “Surely, understanding stuff is pretty fundamental to their job, isn’t it?” He ended the post by twisting the knife: “Just makes it funnier though, I guess.”

Early Wednesday, Gervais felt compelled to help out some of those particularly suffering from a case of perpetual offense by offering a list of reminders about how humor works and doesn’t work:

1#. Simply pointing out whether someone is left or right wing isn’t winning the argument.

2#. If a joke is good enough, it can be enjoyed by ANYONE!

3#. IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU!

4#. Just because you’re offended, doesn’t mean you’re right.

As The Daily Wire reported, Gervais spent Monday after the Globes having fun at his critics’ expense online, ridiculing responses to his performance from The Los Angeles Times, The Hollywood Reporter and The Independent, along with the very show he hosted.

Among his posts was one in which he slammed those calling him “right wing.” “How the f*** can teasing huge corporations, and the richest, most privileged people in the world be considered right wing?” he tweeted (post below).

He also made a point of thanking his hundred of thousands of new followers. “Welcome to the 300,000 new followers I acquired today. I promise you won’t like everything I say, but here’s a sexy photo,” he wrote.

Gervais continued to hit his critics on Tuesday, including retweeting a defense of his Golden Globes jokes by Second Amendment champion Dana Loesch, who called The Independent’s condemnation of Gervais “garbage.”

“Oh garbage,” Loesch wrote. “[Ricky Gervais] demonstrated that good comedians go after everyone. No one should be safe, but the prevailing thought these past 10+ years is that one group IS exempt. They can lecture from the stage but he can’t mock their inconsistencies? You prove his point.”

<I mean if calling out corrupt corporations and the super rich is right wing then I guess the right wing is better at being liberal than liberals.

Below is the transcript of Gervais’ opening comments at the Golden Globes:

You’ll be pleased to know this is the last time I’m hosting these awards, so I don’t care anymore. I’m joking. I never did. I’m joking, I never did. NBC clearly don’t care either — fifth time. I mean, Kevin Hart was fired from the Oscars for some offensive tweets — hello?

Lucky for me, the Hollywood Foreign Press can barely speak English and they’ve no idea what Twitter is, so I got offered this gig by fax. Let’s go out with a bang, let’s have a laugh at your expense. Remember, they’re just jokes. We’re all gonna die soon and there’s no sequel, so remember that.

But you all look lovely all dolled up. You came here in your limos. I came here in a limo tonight and the license plate was made by Felicity Huffman. No, shush. It’s her daughter I feel sorry for. OK? That must be the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to her. And her dad was in Wild Hogs.

Lots of big celebrities here tonight. Legends. Icons. This table alone — Al Pacino, Robert DeNiro … Baby Yoda. Oh, that’s Joe Pesci, sorry. I love you man. Don’t have me whacked. But tonight isn’t just about the people in front of the camera. In this room are some of the most important TV and film executives in the world. People from every background. They all have one thing in common: They’re all terrified of Ronan Farrow. He’s coming for ya. Talking of all you perverts, it was a big year for pedophile movies. Surviving R. Kelly, Leaving Neverland, Two Popes. Shut up. Shut up. I don’t care. I don’t care.

Many talented people of color were snubbed in major categories. Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about that. Hollywood Foreign press are all very racist. Fifth time. So. We were going to do an In-Memoriam this year, but when I saw the list of people who died, it wasn’t diverse enough. No, it was mostly white people and I thought, nah, not on my watch. Maybe next year. Let’s see what happens.

No one cares about movies anymore. No one goes to cinema, no one really watches network TV. Everyone is watching Netflix. This show should just be me coming out, going, “Well done Netflix. You win everything. Good night.” But no, we got to drag it out for three hours. You could binge-watch the entire first season of Afterlife instead of watching this show. That’s a show about a man who wants to kill himself cause his wife dies of cancer and it’s still more fun than this. Spoiler alert, season two is on the way so in the end he obviously didn’t kill himself. Just like Jeffrey Epstein. Shut up. I know he’s your friend but I don’t care.

Seriously, most films are awful. Lazy. Remakes, sequels. I’ve heard a rumor there might be a sequel to Sophie’s Choice. I mean, that would just be Meryl just going, “Well, it’s gotta be this one then.” All the best actors have jumped to Netflix, HBO. And the actors who just do Hollywood movies now do fantasy-adventure nonsense. They wear masks and capes and really tight costumes. Their job isn’t acting anymore. It’s going to the gym twice a day and taking steroids, really. Have we got an award for most ripped junky? No point, we’d know who’d win that.

Martin Scorsese made the news for his controversial comments about the Marvel franchise. He said they’re not real cinema and they remind him about theme parks. I agree. Although I don’t know what he’s doing hanging around theme parks. He’s not big enough to go on the rides. He’s tiny. The Irishman was amazing. It was amazing. It was great. Long, but amazing. It wasn’t the only epic movie. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, nearly three hours long. Leonardo DiCaprio attended the premiere and by the end his date was too old for him. Even Prince Andrew was like, “Come on, Leo, mate. You’re nearly 50-something.”

The world got to see James Corden as a fat pussy. He was also in the movie Cats. No one saw that movie. And the reviews, shocking. I saw one that said, “This is the worst thing to happen to cats since dogs.” But Dame Judi Dench defended the film saying it was the film she was born to play because she loves nothing better than plunking herself down on the carpet, lifting her leg and licking her pussy. (Coughs) Hairball. She’s old-school.

It’s the last time, who cares? Apple roared into the TV game with The Morning Show, a superb drama about the importance of dignity and doing the right thing, made by a company that runs sweatshops in China. Well, you say you’re woke but the companies you work for in China — unbelievable. Apple, Amazon, Disney. If ISIS started a streaming service you’d call your agent, wouldn’t you?

So if you do win an award tonight, don’t use it as a platform to make a political speech. You’re in no position to lecture the public about anything. You know nothing about the real world. Most of you spent less time in school than Greta Thunberg.

So if you win, come up, accept your little award, thank your agent, and your God and fuck off, OK? It’s already three hours long. Right, let’s do the first award.

[desdinovas]

award show || brad simpson

not my gif

pairing: Brad Simpson x Female Reader

word count: 2,031

notes: got this request a few weeks ago and it’s probs my fav thing anyone has requested so far, hope this is good enough

“Brad, this is literally the millionth suit you’ve tried on today,” you pointed out from your place on your shared bed.

You actually didn’t mind helping him with his outfit at all. Watching him try suit after suit, one looking better than the other on him. I mean, who wouldn’t want to see that? Ever since he found out his band would be attending the Brits, he got way too excited about it and wanted everything to be perfect that night. And that includes, of course, his outfit.

“I know, love, but none of them are good enough.” Brad argued back as he studied his reflection in the mirror standing in front of him.

“You look amazing in all of them.” You stood up from the bed and walked towards him, hugging him from behind and standing on your tiptoes so you could let your chin rest on his shoulder.

“I’m still not convinced,” he said as he scanned his wardrobe.

A few seconds passed before his eyes landed on a very unusual suit. He had actually forgotten he bought that one. It was an impulsive buy and he never got the chance to wear it —mainly because he tossed it to the back of his wardrobe as soon as he came back from the store, making him totally forget about its existence.

“How about this one?” Brad asked as he took it out from the closet and started analysing it.

“Isn’t it a little too bright?” You asked back with furrowed brows. Oh, did I forget to mention the suit was bright red?

“Yeah, but Con told me he’s wearing a red suit as well so maybe we could match.” Brad shrugged.

“I thought I was your date to the red carpet.” You teased, pretending to be hurt by his words.

Brad chuckled under his breath and turned his head to kiss your cheek. “You’re wearing a white dress, right?” He asked even though he already knew the answer since you went dress shopping with him and it was him who ended up choosing it.

You nodded your head a bit confused, not knowing where he was going. “Then I’ll pin a little white rose on my suit. That way we’ll be matching.” Brad explained as he winked an eye at you.

You gave him a smile and he got himself into the bathroom to try on the red suit. Although there was no need to bother on going to the bathroom to get changed —since you’ve seen each other naked like a million times— he wanted to surprise you with the final result, rather than watching him during the process of getting dressed. Why? Because he absolutely loves your reactions.

“So? What do you think?” Brad asked as he stepped out of the bathroom. What he didn’t know this time was that your jaw would literally drop once your eyes fell on him.

“Holy fucking shit.” Was all you could say.

Your eyes were wide as you studied every single detail, not once finding a flaw. How can someone be this hot without even trying? He was wearing a black shirt while the rest of the suit —including his tie— was red.

“Is it that bad?” Brad asked at the lack of feedback from you.

You blinked a few times before answering; “are you kidding me? You look unbelievably handsome.”

“Do you think so?” He questioned as he stood in front of the mirror, carefully studying his reflection with his nose wrinkled. “Isn’t the colour a bit extravagant?”

“I mean, I thought that too.” You began, not being able to stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his bum. But he doesn’t have to know that. “But that was before I saw it on you. Bloody hell, red is definitely your colour.”

“Are you sure?” Brad asked again, and that was enough to tell you that he was insecure about it.

“Absolutely,” you nodded your head. “Red is definitely my new favourite colour after seeing it on you.” You said in all honesty and he gave you a small smile. “Look, if you’re not wearing that to the awards then I’ll be very disappointed.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces almost touching. “Trust me, you look amazing.”

“Babe, do you think I should wear my-“ Brad stopped in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on you. “Oh, my good God.” He gasped.

You turned around as you finished applying your makeup and gave Brad a confused look once your eyes met his. “What? What is it?”

Brad shook his head repeatedly. “Nothing, it’s just that my girlfriend is the hottest thing in the world. That’s all.”

You could literally feel your cheeks going red as you shot him a small smile. “Stop.” How did he manage to make you feel like an actual school girl?

“No, I’m serious.” He said as he walked closer to you and placed a hand on your waist. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

You smiled again and pecked his lips. “You don’t have to win me over. We’re already dating, you know.” You joked before stroking the few curls growing on the back of his head.

“Just speaking the truth,” he said giving you a cheeky grin that always sends you flying —and today was no exception. He leaned over to catch your lips in his, smiling into the kiss.

“What were you about to ask me?” You panted as soon as you broke apart from the kiss.

“Oh, right.” Brad nodded his head, remembering why he went into the bedroom in the first place. “Should I wear my glasses to the awards? Because I figured I won’t be able to see shit from our seats.”

“Of course you should, baby.” He smiled at the pet name. “Why shouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he hesitated his next words. “Do you think they make me look dorky?” He asked with the most adorable concerned look. He was so insecure about everything lately, you just wanted to sit down with him and lecture him on how perfect he is.

You shot him a warm smile as you stroked his right cheek with your thumb. “No, Brad.” You reassured him. “If anything, they make you look even more cute than you already are.”

Brad frowned at your last sentence. “We’ve been through this, darling. I’m not cute, I’m a man.”

“Fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him and decided to tease him a little bit more. “You’re a cute man, happy now?”

“That is not what I meant.”

You jumped into the limo that was waiting for the two of you outside of your house and greeted the rest of the band, who were already there.

“You look great, (y/n).” James said as he shot you a smile.

You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

“Hey, watch it.” Brad playfully said in a warning tone. “She’s my girl.” He glared at James. And although he was kidding, everyone knew there was a bit of truth in his words.

A few minutes went by before you felt Brad shifting on his seat beside you and making quiet noises. You turned your head to be met by him frantically touching his blazer.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just trying to pin the rose,” Brad answered with his brows furrowed. (p.s here’s a video to give y’all an idea bc me writing about it doesn’t do how cute he is any justice)

“Need some help?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on your face. “Seems like you could poke yourself any minute now.”

“Please,” he whined and you laughed at how adorable he was. You took the little white rose in your hands and pinned it to his suit soon enough. “Thank you, love.” He smiled before kissing the top of your head.

“We’re here.” Connor announced and the five of you hopped off the limo to be met by a huge wave of cameras flashing at you.

Brad’s arm was immediately around your waist and tightly holding you close to him in a protective way. You tried to ignore all the questions the paparazzi were asking you as you made your way towards the red carpet.

Brad turned to you and your eyes finally met his. He gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna go take some pictures with the boys. I won’t be long, okay?” He gently stroked your cheek with his hand.

You just nodded your head and watched him join the rest of the band on the red carpet while you stood where all the paparazzi and interviewers were standing. You watched the boys pose for an awful lot of different cameras and started wondering how it was possible for one human being to be so good looking without even trying. Brad was literally just standing there doing absolutely nothing but faintly smile, and yet it was the most beautiful thing your eyes have ever seen.

“C’mere, baby.” Brad rushed to where you were standing and you shook your head, trying to get rid of your thoughts.

You intertwined your fingers with his and he guided you to the red carpet. Your eyes wandered to look for the boys and soon you found them talking to an interviewer. Brad wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head down so he was whispering in your ear. “Just relax, okay? I’m here.”

You faintly nodded your head and took a deep breath just before the flash from all the cameras started blinding you.

You tried to smile at a numerous amount of cameras so you wouldn’t be looking at the same one all the time, but it was quite hard to figure which camera you were looking at with all those bright lights shining into your eyes. Brad leaned in to kiss your cheek and you subconsciously closed your eyes and smiled. The sound of various cameras shooting was heard and you made a mental note to yourself to look for that picture online later.

After a few more seconds of posing, Brad squeezed your waist gently and walked you over to where the boys were talking with the interviewers.

Just as you two stopped beside the boys, the middle aged woman who was interviewing them smiled before saying, “here they are! We were just talking about how cute you guys are.”

Brad smiled as a light shade of pink coloured his cheeks. “Thank you. Although, I must say, she takes all the credit.” He said while turning to give you a sweet smile as his hand gently stroked your waist.

You just smiled back at him, hoping the camera behind the woman wouldn’t be able to capture your flushed cheeks.

“You two have been dating for quite a while now, does it ever get hard when it comes to the distance?” She asked before placing her microphone in front of Brad for him to answer.

“Distance is definitely hard,” he began. “But we’re determined to make this work, so we try not to make it such a big of a deal, you know? Whenever I’m away for tour one of us is always trying to find some time to visit the other one.” He concluded with a sided smile.

You just kept smiling the entire time, not feeling the need to answer the questions. They were all aimed for Brad anyways.

“You must really love each other.”

“Yeah,” Brad nodded with a huge smile as he looked down at you. “I love her, she’s great.” You looked up to smile back at him.

After the boys were done with the interviews you all proceeded to the actual award show. Once you were sat in your designated seats, Brad placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a little squeeze.

“You were great, darling.”

“I just smiled the whole time.” You chuckled as your eyes met his.

“And that’s enough,” he said with a reassuring smile and you went to peck his lips. “Did I tell you how bloody stunning you look tonight?”

You shot him a wide smile. “Only about a thousand times.” You teased.

“Well, here goes again; you look absolutely stunning.” You just smiled as your eyes were still locked with his. “I love you, babe.”

I’m also leaving a few pictures of him on that goddamn red carpet cause holy mother of god, this boy is a snack lol who am I kidding he’s a motherfucking full course meal

[hoyoungy]

blocked.zip | soonyoung (i)

genre: comedy, “fbi agent” au | fbi agent!soonyoung x reader summary: you’ve gotten away with downloading a lot of copyrighted content in the past, but now the fbi agent assigned to you has had enough of it word count: 1738 a/n: you know that fbi agent joke thing going around? i thought it was funny and soonyoung’s funny so i mean it fits. this is a word vomit. warnings include swearing

part ii

“Ugh,” you groaned as you tried to ‘legally’ download a youtube file as a .mp3 format for the third time. Each time you tried, the unusually usual mysterious and invisible window would pop up on the screen for a second and disappear the next, with you stuck on the same website and the file failing to download.

“Can’t you just buy the song?” your roommate asked as she sat across from you at the dining table.

“And throw away like, $2.00? No, thanks.”

“Pirating files is super dangerous these days! Haven’t you seen the news? There are like, FBI agents that are watching you through your webcam. Or-or how your phone and Google can detect your voice, hear what you’re saying while you’re just having a casual conversation, and show you ads that are similar? Watch, let’s test it out,” she said, clearing her throat. “Oh, no! Looks like we ran out of coffee. I really wish we had some coffee right now! I love light roast and blond coffee blends -”

“Shut up, you really believe in that stuff?” you scoffed as you properly categorized your newly downloaded song file in your library.

“Of course I do! Didn’t you see that one video where that girl bought a laptop online and the camera was always on, but she ignored it and went about her day, but a couple of months later, some creep broke into her house and murdered her!?”

“Well, yeah, that was scary… but I taped over the webcam! That has nothing to do with me trying to enjoy my favorite band’s music for free. Appreciating art shouldn’t cost so much money. And besides, this isn’t some post-Y2K paranoia era anymore. Remember when we were so scared as kids when we pirated songs off of Limewire? The FBI has become way more lenient these days ~”

“Whatever you say, _____, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when some weirdo American gets access to your webcam and watches you changing ~”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you muttered. “Ok, on to their next album…”

“Soonyoung, what the hell!” Jihoon scolded him in his office. A slumped and embarrassed Soonyoung sat in front of Jihoon’s desk as he listened to yet another lecture about not keeping a close eye on your internet activity. But it wasn’t his fault you bent the law so often! “Are you not paying attention to your person again? How many times do I have to tell you to not watch Naruto on the second monitor!?”

“I’m not, I swear! And I am paying attention to her! She’s downloaded like, five albums of different artists in the past twelve hours, how am I supposed to keep up with that!?”

“That’s what the ads are for!”

“I’ve tried, Jihoon! She has an ad-blocker for the ad-blocker! She always finds a way to stop me! You know how there isn’t a cure for the common cold because it adapts and evolves so often? She’s exactly like that!”

“Try harder. You’re a FBI agent, for Christ’s sake. You have access to basically their entire internet history and activity! There’s always a way around it, trust me. Start by sending her a threatening message, or something, to slow down the downloading.”

“Just message them? Can we do that…?”

“Of course we can. It’s just like an email. Just be like, ‘hey, we’ve noticed some suspicious activity on your laptop, please refrain from blah blah blah,’ and that’s it.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Just say you’re in the FBI or something, that usually scares them.”

“I mean, I am in the FBI…”

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem. Hurry and watch her activity before she pirates all of Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo. Your report says that was her latest search.”

“Fuck,” Soonyoung cursed before running out of Jihoon’s office.

When he got back to his desk, it was already too late. On the screen that monitored your internet activity on your laptop, the screen showed that you were already in the middle of downloading episode three.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Soonyoung practically keyboard-smashed a bunch of codes onto the screen that paused your downloading process.

“What the hell!” he heard you screech into his headset. “Are you kidding me!?”

“Now’s my chance.”

On the other side of the screen, you quit your browser and tried to redownload the third episode for the third time, but the download kept failing. That was it, you were going to take your laptop to a Genius bar, or something -

“You have (1) Unread Message,” your laptop chimed.

With hesitation, you opened the suspiciously red message. “Hello, _____,” you muttered aloud. “We have noticed some suspicious activity on your computer. Remember to please refrain from downloading any copyrighted… blah blah blah… Oh shit, hey, take a look at this!” you called your roommate.

“What’s up?”

“The FBI’s watching me!” you snorted.

“Why is she laughing!?” Soonyoung asked his lonely cubicle.

“Why are you laughing!? Oh, my God, see I told you this was going to happen! Look at what you did, now I bet they’ve hacked into my laptop, too! We are so screwed! We’re going to get arrested!” your roommate panicked. “I bet they’re listening to us right now! _____, shut down your laptop - no, burn it -”

“Relax, will you! It’s just a prank, or something! Or another pop-up ad!”

“I’ll show you a pop-up ad…” Soonyoung scoffed. On his end, he coded another message onto your laptop screen. He was probably getting a little carried away with a second message, but clearly you weren’t listening, and Jihoon did tell him to get more serious with this job. He’s not hurting anyone, anyways.

The next message popped up on your laptop screen for you and your roommate to see.

“‘This isn’t a prank’…” your roommate whispered. “This isn’t a prank… This isn’t a prank! Oh, shit, they really are listening to us!”

“No fucking way,” you cursed. “Ok, Mr. FBI agent, if this isn’t a prank, then… what’s our Wifi network?”

“‘PrettyFlyforAWiFi.’ Holy shit, this is real, this is happening right now,” your roommate panicked.

“Shut up! What was my most recent search?”

After scrolling through your history for several minutes, Soonyoung replied with, ‘How to clean wine stains.’

“Do you know our cat’s name…?”

‘Truffle.’

“Holy shit.” You began to laugh quite hysterically, still unable to believe that you had a real FBI agent assigned to you and was currently chatting it up with you and your terrified roommate. Your mind began to flash back to all the embarrassing and, um, not so appropriate searches you’ve done in the past. Everything you’ve ever searched, downloaded, basically have seen on the internet, this person has seen you do it.

“Burn it,” your roommate threatened. “Or I’m gonna do it.”

“No, I can’t afford another laptop right now! Besides, I bet you have an FBI agent assigned to you, too.”

“Yeah, but at least I won’t go to jail for downloading illegal content.”

“That’s true…”

“You won’t go to jail, dumbass.”

Both you and your roommate stopped moving when your laptop began to speak. Now this was really starting to get scary.

On Soonyoung’s end, who was tired of typing out all of his proof and explainations that have been ignored as you and roommate bickered, he decided to finally turn on his microphone on his headset and do the absolute unspeakable - talk to his assigned citizen. Soonyoung was already in deep shit with Jihoon and the entire agency anyways, so he might as well dig deeper.

“You won’t go to jail now, but if you keep downloading and torrenting so much stuff, you will.”

“It’s a boy,” you stated. “My FBI agent’s a dude. Ok, that, in some form or another, has to be illegal, too, like that’s just not safe or fair!”

“Life isn’t safe or fair.”

“Are you my mother now? My FBI agent mother?”

“I can’t believe you’re arguing with your laptop,” your roommate said as she walked away from you. “Don’t bring that thing near me until you figure out your legal problems!”

You sighed dramatically so that Soonyoung could hear you from the other side. It was just the two of you now, face to face - sort of - waiting for the other person to break the ice.

“So I’m not going to jail, right?”

“No, but I’m assigned to watch over your internet activity still. If your excessive illegal downloading continues, I’ll have to have you arrested.”

“Then how long until I’m in the clear?”

“Either until you get a new laptop and a new agent assigned to you or as long as I deem necessary.”

“So we’re basically stuck with each other, huh?” you asked.

“Unfortunately.”

“Cool… Well, since we’ll be working together for quite some time, I’ll intoduce myself first. Hi, my name is _____.”

“I know.”

“… Of course you do,” you dead panned. “And you are…?”

“Soonyoung.”

“What a nice name for a scary FBI agent man. Do you know what I look like…?”

“I can only see you when you turn on your webcam.”

“That’s so weird!” You felt the strong shivers creep up your spine at the thought of some strange man looking at you while you webcammed with your friends or classmates. The corners of Soonyoung’s lips twitched slightly at your strange, scared noises. “Please tell me you’re not some old man with a tub of lotion by your desk.”

“We’re the same age.”

“Damn, you know my birthday, too! But somehow knowing we’re the same age makes this all less creepy.”

“That’s… good?”

“I’m not too sure, either. Now that we got formalities out of the way, I’m going to continue downloading this episode if that’s ok with you.”

“What!?” Soonyoung screeched into his mic. “No, that’s not ok! I just told you that you could get arrested!”

“Yeah, but you seem cool!”

“There are dozens of free streaming websites for that show, why do you have to download each episode!?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Oh, my God,” Soonyoung sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose harshly.

You were going to have a lot of fun messing with Soonyoung.

[looselucy]

October

Our first three weeks at university had flown by, which wasn’t something I was entirely happy about, really. Because it was now Friday the 6th of October, and Minnie was coming to visit. It was a shame, because for the past fortnight or so, I had felt really good. Like, really good.

I knew exactly why, there was no question about it. I had been to a mere two photography sessions, and it was almost like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I knew it would affect me somehow, but I didn’t know there was a weight on me simply because I wasn’t taking pictures. I thought I would feel joy, I thought I would feel happiness, and I knew I would feel overwhelmed. But the main thing I had felt was this lift, this feeling of freedom and weightlessness. I felt liberated, unchained. But most importantly, the second I picked up the camera, I felt like myself. I didn’t have anyone there forcing me to do it, there was no pressure, no expectations. I was picking up a camera for me, and no one else. Because of that, I was feeling more myself than I had done in years. It was impossible not to notice that change within myself. It had done me a world of good. Another thing it had helped me realise, though I knew I would never tell either of my parents, was that I was kind of glad I hadn’t done photography as my degree. It was nice to be taking photos with absolutely zero pressure. It was completely mine, simply for my pleasure. Every day I wanted to wake with a camera in my hands, but that would have involved stealing the camera I was lucky enough to use on my course and taking it home, and I didn’t think that would have gone down too well. “Pip! I’m talking to you here!” Ed cried from beside me. “What?” I whipped my head to him. “What is up with you today?” “I’m distant.” “You really are. You alright?” “Yeah, I’m good.” I said honestly. “What’s up?” “I think Ringo’s mad at me.” He sighed. Friday lectures were pretty chilled, which was great, until I started thinking about how much I was paying for relaxed studying. Thankfully, once again, Ed had purchased every single book on our reading list, so every Friday when we were told to bring in certain books, to read to certain pages and study them in our own time, I remembered how grateful I was for sitting next to him in our very first lecture. “Mad at you for what?” I puzzled. “I don’t know! That’s my problem.” “You got any ideas?” “Mm... Umm... Maybeeee... No. Seriously. I’m an amazing boyfriend, I don’t know what I’ve done.” “Well, what makes you think she’s mad at you?” “She’s just being off, y’know? But I don’t wanna ask, because she’ll tell me I should know why, so I may as well figure it out. Fuck.” Speaking from a female’s point of view, he’d probably done something wrong, I just didn’t have the heart to tell him. On top of that, it would probably just be something stupid. There was a high possibility that Ringo was mad at him for something so completely dumb and meaningless, Ed would have totally brushed over it. It’s hard to explain those things to a boy. I’m not sure they’ll ever learn. Poor things. “Well, have you asked her about it at all?” I quizzed. “No. I’ve just been trying to be extra nice.” “Just ask her.” “I’m scared.” “You’re pathetic. Now text your girlfriend, and ask her what’s up.” I instructed, then took a deep breath in. “How is she otherwise? I haven’t seen much of her.” “She’s busy. She’s working really hard already. I dunno. Maybe it’s something to do with that.” I shook my head and contained a smile, wondering how mundane the outcome of their argument would be. For the first time all week, I hadn’t wanted my lecture to end. I was too damn nervous about what things would be like when I got back. Would she already be there? Would she be waiting for us? I knew Harry finished his lecture at the same time as me, like he did on Mondays, and he wanted to walk back with me, but all I could think about was what it would be like if we were to walk into our home and she was already there, and I would have to be right there to see them reunite. I’d been doing brilliantly for the past few weeks, but I wasn’t sure I could quite hack that. “Oi.” Ed nudged me from my thoughts. “Apparently we’re studying Dr Seuss before Christmas. What are we, twelve?” “Dr Seuss is a genius, and if you’re not aware of that, then you definitely need to study him.” He gasped sarcastically, his hand slapping against his chest, his eyes wide. “Oh my god.” He flummoxed. “Are you twelve?” “Shut up, you idiot.” At the front of the room, Miss Peppers, who refused to let us call her by her first name like the rest of the lecturers did, declared that it was finally the end of the week, and we were free to go. Of course, that was not before she told us we needed to read a book over the weekend to prepare for our Monday lecture. A book from our reading list. A book, that of course, I did not own. Without even a second thought, Ed dug the book from his backpack, and handed it to me. I gave him a grateful smile. “Why do you even have this with you?” I sighed appreciatively. “Because unlike you, I check the lecture requirements online beforehand, and she asked us to bring this book.” He replied, getting to his feet. “I’ve already read it, so knock yourself out.” “With the amount of reading I need to do this weekend, I’m sure I’ll have no problem being knocked out.” I yawned at the mere thought. “Thanks.” “No worries. Now c’mon, it’s the weekend, and I don’t want to be here for a minute longer than I need to be.” Being in a lecture on a Friday wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Finishing at 5pm on a Friday, was actually quite nice. It made it more apparent that it was finally the weekend, it gave me a sense of excitement. No matter how testing the weekend was going to be, I was damn grateful she wasn’t coming to visit on a bloody Monday. It was the weekend, and I was refusing to let anything bring me down. Even Minnie. Everyone spilled out of the room manically, tripping over each other, eager to get away from university for two short, blissful days. Less than a month in, and second year was a hell of a lot more intense than the first. The sun was shining once we finally got outside, but not even the sun could hide how bitterly cold the weather was slowly becoming as the months dragged on. Harry stood waiting for me with a giant smile on his face, his hands in his coat pocket as the crowd walked around him, making him stand out even more, being the only one stood still facing the other way. He looked amazing, like some kind of bloody vision. The wind was blowing mildly through his curls, and he just looked so effortlessly king-like. I was in awe of him, constantly. “Hi.” I greeted softly as we reached him. “Happy Friday, Pippa. Happy Friday, Ed.” “Happy Friday, Haz.” Ed greeted chirpily. “How’s it going?” “Good, yeah.” He grinned. “You excited to see the ol’ ball and chain?” Ed was still in the dark about my feelings for Harry, but I always thought that even if I told him straight to his face, it still wouldn’t be something he could wrap his head around. Plus, it was nice having one person who didn’t grill me about how I felt; who didn’t ask if I was okay with a slightly sad tone to their voice. At the time, Ed felt like the only person in my life that I was spending time with who was not treating me like I was broken, and I needed him for that exact reason. “Yeah, it’ll be good. I can’t wait.” Harry cooed. I couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over, in all honesty. I just had my fingers crossed that I would at least get on with the girl. No matter what happened, it was going to torture me, I knew that. I just wanted it to be made easier. I genuinely wanted to like her. I couldn’t quite believe myself. Even so, the sooner the weekend ended, the better. Well, that was how I was thinking about things, until I realised that the quicker the weekend went, we would only mean we were closer to the next time she had would visit. I was praying she wouldn’t want to visit him every weekend. “You ready to go?” I asked him. “Sure.” He nodded. “Alright, I’m in the opposite direction, so I’ll see you Monday, alright Pip?” Ed chirped. “Have a good weekend!” We returned the well wishes and began making our journey home. I wondered if Harry had noticed the way conversation didn’t flow between us as easily as it once had. That was completely down to me. Every time I tried to be like my old self, I got lost somewhere along the way. I so desperately wanted to be normal with him, but I just couldn’t. Things were pretty good, better than I thought they were going to be when I first found out he had a girlfriend, so I figured that’s why Harry hadn’t caught on. But even so, we weren’t quite right. I wasn’t sure we ever would be again. “How was your lecture?” He asked me as we started wandering away from campus. “Yeah, it was good. How was yours?” “It was pretty good, yeah.” He shrugged. “Glad it’s the weekend though.” He must have known, because our conversation was absolutely fine but it was just fucking small talk, and it was so unlike us. Even when we used to argue, at least we were quick and witty and sharp with one another. This was just ridiculous. I decided to throw us into a conversation that suited us more. “My photography classes are going well.” I breathed. He must have been a little thrown by me saying that, because a few days beforehand, he had asked me about them and I had told him I didn’t want to talk about it. “Oh, really?” He gawped happily. “I didn’t get that impression when I asked you.” “I was just being grumpy that day. As usual.” I fake laughed. “But they are going well. Even though I don’t really have all the equipment I used to, it still feels amazing. It just makes me so happy.” Harry hadn’t been watching his step, he had been too busy looking down to me. He was happy for me, proud of me, overwhelmed for me. He was so caught up in the moment, he tripped over a crack in the pavement, and yet still, his eyes didn’t move from mine. “I’m just...” He took a deep breath in. “I’m so sad that it took you this long. You’ve missed out.” There was one thing I had been desperate to tell him for months. It was eating me alive more so than the fact I hadn’t told him how intensely I cared about him. This was the one thing I knew I really needed to tell him, something he deserved to know. “I... I don’t think I’d have done this… without you, y’know?” I stuttered and stammered my way through the entire sentence, because it just felt so painfully honest. Recently I had made a pact to stop lying to myself so much. I guess it wasn’t something I had really been lying about, but it was definitely something I hadn’t been 100% honest about. Even though I had never voiced that little fact, I figured it was something Harry knew. The look on his face, suggested otherwise. “You serious?” He heaved. “That night in February, in the field near your house.” I gulped. “I just... I forgot that having a camera in my hand... it... It feels like home. You brought me home. I... I saw you completely differently after that.” I felt like I was going to cry, because that was as close as I could get to telling him all about my adoration for him. My bottom lip was quivering, and I was so bloody grateful I could blame it on the cold winds. But as I looked up to Harry again, I couldn’t help but notice the look on his face, the bob of his Adams apple, the way his nostrils flared. It truly meant something to him. “I never knew that.” He exhaled. “I actually thought you hated me… for forcing you to take a picture.” “Definitely not. I just... I don’t think I’d be doing this course if it wasn’t for you. I’d probably still be avoiding it. I guess I’m trying to say thank you. I dunno. Thanks for forcing me to do that.” “I’m proud of you, Pip.” He smiled admirably. “I’m glad I could help.” Conversation fell flat again as my fingers fidgeted and scratched against each other, my nose twitching and my heart racing. It felt good though, because even though my heart was beating so fast that I was almost sure he could see it if he was too look at my chest, it also felt like a massive weight from my chest. He knew, in the only way he could know at that moment, how much I adored and cherished him, how much reverence I had for him. That felt so good. And in that exact moment in time, it was enough. + + + Zayn and Louis sat on the edge of my bed, awkwardly watching me as I sat on the floor, painting my toenails. I had kept glancing up to them, then going back to my toes, then up, then back down, until their awkward stares and throat clearing had gotten too much for me to ignore. “What?” I groaned. “You okay?” Zayn asked. “I’m fine.” “Harry wants us to all be downstairs to meet her.” “I know.” I shrugged. “Well... he shouted for us to go down like… five minutes ago.” “I’m painting my nails.” I said, completely nonchalant. “Don’t mean to be a dick,” Louis joined in. “But it sounds to me like you’re trying to avoid it. I’m pretty sure you’re on your tenth layer of nail varnish.” “Who made you the queen of nail varnish?” I huffed. “Me and my brother always wanted a little sister, okay? Leave us alone.” I giggled down to my nails, shaking my head, but continuing to apply another layer, even though Louis was definitely right, the whole thing was starting to look like a complete mess because I was over applying it. I just really didn’t want to go downstairs. They went quiet, again, but I could still feel their eyes burning me, those sympathetic bloody eyes where I could tell how bloody sorry they felt for me without even bloody looking at them. With one more giant groan, I looked up to them. They both had the same idiotic smiles on their faces, they genuinely looked like the ultimate duo. “Fine, okay, we’ll go downstairs.” I huffed. “But you two owe me!” ”Whatever, drama queen.” Zayn got to his feet, and offered his hand. I was pulled to my feet, smudging my nail varnish almost automatically. But I didn’t care, all I could think about was Minnie. We walked downstairs and turned ourselves to head into the living room, where we could see Harry sat on the sofa, one leg bobbing up and down, his hands clasped together, looking to us with a small smile. For some reason, it was almost like he was nervous. I couldn’t figure out why the hell he would be nervous to see his own girlfriend. The only plausible thing I could think of, was that he was nervous how I would react. He may have been totally dense to how I felt for him, but we had slept together. Maybe he was nervous about how we’d all feel about her, really, because he would want his friends to like the girl he was with. Then again, maybe it was something else. Maybe he was just excited, maybe I was seeing something that wasn’t even there. I’d done that before when it came to Harry. “I didn’t know you were here, Louis.” Harry greeted. “Yeah, man. Me and Zayn are-” There was a knock on the door. Before I could even settle, before I could sit down in the living room and mentally prepare myself, she had arrived. My stomach tightened in a way I had never known before. It was so foreign and terrifying. I was nervous and I was scared, but I was eager and I was frightened and threatened. The emotions were so large and overwhelming and all fighting to be the most dominant. We all whipped around to face the door as Harry jumped excitedly to his feet, and dashed past us. I got one alarmed look from Louis, but our eyes had to be on the door, because we were all so eager to see her. And fuck, she was a sight. She was too cool for her own good, and it killed me. She had these little circular sunglasses on, regardless of the fact the sun was more or less out of sight. Her hair was short, just below her jaw, bleach blonde and jagged. Her lips were bright red, she had a leather jacket on, some kind of lace bra thing underneath, denim shorts and giant black boots that reached over her knees, lacing the whole way up. This shit-eating grin appeared on her face as soon as she realised all eyes were on her, and she just knew. She just fucking knew and I don’t even know why, but it hurt. I felt invisible. “Hey.” She greeted, cocky, self-assured. “Your house is more of a shit-hole than you told me.” I had to smile, because I knew how fucking offended Zayn would be by that, even though I’m sure she just meant it as a joke or a passing comment. Zayn was protective of our home, and with good reason. First year is a blur, you’re thrown into your accommodation and you have to deal with what it’s like and the people you’re put with. The new house was ours. Our first real home, and I knew Zayn was not going to be happy that she had decided to make a bad comment about it. My smile dropped pretty quickly when Harry pulled her eagerly inside and forced his lips on hers. Her fingers found the hair on the back of his head straight away, and though the kiss was brief, it punctured my heart and left me reeling. She turned to look at us once they were done, Harry’s arm around her waist as he stared down at her like some love-struck buffoon. “So, who’s who?” She asked. “I’m Louis.” He offered his hand to her. “I don’t live here, just a friend.” “Fake tan, or blessed with olive skin?” She asked whilst shaking his hand. “Blessed.” “God loves you, cutie.” She winked. “I guess that makes you Zayn.” “Yup.” Zayn, however, did not offer his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “I like your docs.” She told him. “I keep trying to force Harry to buy some, but he won’t listen to me.” I could see already that Zayn was getting annoyed with her, and I really didn’t want to love that, I really kept trying to be a bigger person, a better person. But sometimes, it’s human nature to be fucking petty, and I was being just that. “Well, since he doesn’t like docs, that would be weird.” Zayn cleared his throat. “Hm. Whatever.” She brushed. “That must make you Pippa.” “It must.” I faked a smile. “Harry obviously forgot to tell me how pretty you are.” She smiled. “You good?” “I’m fine. Are you?” “I need a drink. We going out tonight or what?” She dropped her bag on the floor by the door and cat-walked past us, leaving us all just watching her go. She walked like she owned the place, but any girl in their right mind who looked like her, would do exactly the same. She was a spectacle. She was a force to be reckoned with and she knew it, which only helped her. It was easy to dislike someone like that, but impossible not to be in awe of them. Harry followed quickly behind her like a lost puppy, and I swear to god it was like the rest of us had no bloody clue how to react or what the hell to do, because we were just glued to our spots, completely dumbfounded. She had knocked us all completely off our feet, because she was a bigger personality than the lot of us put together and we’d been in her company for a matter of seconds. Louis lowered his brows, putting his hands on his hips as Zayn released an exasperated sigh, and the struggle had already begun. “Shall we go upstairs and paint our nails?” Louis cringed, and I was almost sure he was being completely serious. + + + Harry looked at her like he was bewildered by her. To be honest, we all kind of did. She was two years older than the rest of us for one, a factor she wouldn’t let us forget. But as the night had continued, she just proved over and over again that she was literally the most confident person we had ever met. She asked people questions all night, but it seemed like the only reason she was doing it was so that she could impose her opinion, or tell a story that was slightly better. She asked Zayn if he was enjoying his course, only to continue to tell him how hard he would find it to make money in that field. She asked Louis if he drove, only to tell him it was a waste of money. She asked me if I dyed my hair, only to tell me that I should try a darker shade. I had been desperate to like the girl. I had been fucking desperate, but we were at the stage of the night where we were just about to head over to Thimble, and myself, Zayn and Louis were exceptionally close to ripping our hair out. She was witty, funny, captivating, and I found myself being jealous of her. Not just because she was with Harry, but the way she held herself, how highly she clearly thought of herself. I would have killed for her confidence. Yet she was so sickeningly condescending. So sarcastically sweet. When Niall had told me that Harry didn’t like her, he just liked the idea of her, I had no clue what he meant. But after finally meeting her properly, it made perfect sense. Of course Harry was infatuated with a girl who was two years older than us, gorgeous, and so obnoxiously self-assured it was almost scary. The only question I couldn’t answer, was why he was still so blind to how she really was. How he could actually be in a relationship with someone like that, and still like her. The worst part was, all that did was bounce back on me. I’d never felt less desirable. I was there, trying my best not to, but fucking waiting on him. Just waiting. Yet, he was with her. It made me feel awfully about myself. Like that somehow meant that I was worse than the girl in front of us, who to me, seemed so painfully dreadful. Zayn read my mind in that exact moment. “I’m gunna fucking kill you, if you’re comparing yourself to her.” We were both stood in the kitchen trying to down our drinks before we left, and she was sat on Harry’s knee in the living room. We both watched through the open door, seeing the way he doted on her, almost like he knew he had to make an effort. Like he had to fake being cool to keep her. “I’m nothing like her.” I mumbled. “You’re better.” “Well, I’d like to fucking think so, but I’m not the one going out with Harry, am I?” I cried, as quietly as possible. “Being with someone doesn’t define how fucking great you are, Pip, and you know that. You used to hate the guy. You know more than anyone else, that he can be a complete arsehole.” “I’m not sure he’s the arsehole in this situation.” “No, not necessarily, but... This isn’t him? Is it? Being with someone like that? He’s with her for her looks. There’s no other reason for it. There can’t be? He’s being such a fucking typical lad. It’s a joke. This isn’t him. This is the guy that you could see, when no one could understand why you hated him so much.” I hadn’t even thought about it like that before, but he was right. This boy, who was with someone for their looks, who could cope with snide comments, and smirk about the girl on his arm, was exactly the boy who I had encountered almost a year before. All I could do was keep my fingers crossed that I wouldn’t snap at him, and that the two of us wouldn’t end up arguing in the way we used to. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Louis dashed down the stairs, looking incredibly dapper in his turtleneck jumper and his hair slicked back, and when he waited by the door, we knew it was time to go. “C’mon, dick brains,” He hollered. “Let’s fucking go.” Louis was our comic relief for the evening, and he had been doing a wonderful job, though I definitely missed Mike. A night out never felt quite right without him. Zayn turned to me with a fed up look on his face. I had never seen him react that way with someone. He was such an accepting, open-minded person. It took a lot for him to dislike someone. I didn’t want to say he hated Minnie, but he really didn’t like the girl. Harry and his girlfriend stayed joined at the damn hip as we finally left the house, giggling and flirting like they’d just bloody met, rather than actually being in a relationship. Me and Zayn sulked behind them, and Louis waited by the door for us, because there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to third wheel with those two. So we set off. One of the reasons we liked the house so much was because Thimble was a short walk away, but in a way I regretted that, because it was painfully cold, but it was far too close to order a taxi. I linked my arm with Zayn’s and we walked miserably behind them, Louis throwing his arm around Zayn’s shoulder, making it difficult for us to walk together without stumbling over ourselves, but we didn’t really care. We were the three musketeers as far as I was concerned, the only thing we were missing was the hats and swords. I was pretty thankful about that though, because I couldn’t be blamed for my actions if I had a sword that night. “I say we ditch those two as soon as we get in there.” Louis muttered. “If we don’t, there’s a good chance I’m going to jump off the roof.” I huffed. “I’m definitely getting the shots in.” Zayn shook his head. “You always get the shots in.” Louis groaned. “It’s no special occasion.” Minnie squealed so loudly, she must have woken everyone who was sleeping in their cosy homes within a mile radius. We all cringed and squirmed at the shriek as we saw her pull Harry’s hand off her bum. I was in literal pain. “Oh, he always does that.” Minnie turned to us. “Whenever we’re walking in somewhere, he grabs my bum. I think it’s a protective thing.” She had this look on her face, this cocky, almost bitchy look as she said that. That’s when I figured, that she had a good idea how I felt about Harry. And she was deciding to rub it in my face. “It’s nothing to do with that.” I bit back, barely aware that I was speaking. “Excuse me?” Her voice was full of disdain, stopping her steps and glaring at me. “It’s a masculinity thing.” We all had to stop with her. “Harry’s very protective of his masculinity. He likes to prove it all the time. Showing his feelings emasculates him, so he has to grope you in front of people to feel better.” Everyone was looking everywhere other than at me, awkwardly staring off into the distance. All except Harry, who was looking at me with pure loathing in his eyes. But I didn’t regret saying it. My body literally ached with the amount I cared for him, but that was something about him I knew to be true. The fights, the way he slept with girls, his vendetta against pink and disdain of putting glitter on his face at the festival, was all in the hope of keeping his darling masculinity in check. It was laughable, and I had no issue pointing it out. I was feeling bitter, and that was my one way I could vent. He couldn’t possibly deny it. But he did look very angry. “Are you fucking kidding me, Pippa?” He scowled. “What? It’s true.” I shrugged. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about. You’re just trying your bullshit psychoanalysis on me. It’s pathetic.” He began storming off again, and we all followed, Minnie jogging to catch up with Harry and link their hands, shooting me an evil glare over her shoulder. “Bite your tongue, Pip.” Zayn mumbled in my ear. “And for the fucking record,” Harry stopped again, and turned back to me. “You don’t know why I am the way I am, but I fucking do. So lay off trying to figure me out. You don’t fucking know. You don’t know. Fuck off.” He had spat those words at me. His nose had been crinkled, his eyebrows low, and his voice was dripping in hatred. It didn’t really hurt, hearing him speak to me like that. It was expected, and not unfamiliar. In a way, I had wanted a reaction from him. Mostly, I was in enough pain as it was. I had reached my peak when it came to that feeling. Harry could shout at me all he wanted and I would still feel more or less numb. I got one last evil glare from the both of them before they stormed off again, marching ahead of us so quickly, it seemed ditching them wouldn’t be a hard task. Neither of them wanted to be in my company, and I couldn’t exactly blame them. “Well... that was... interesting.” Louis gulped. “I hit a nerve… I think.” “You think?” He cried. “Bloody hell, Pip. I know you’re hurting, but don’t forget you live with the guy. You don’t want him hating you.” In a way, I did. At least if he hated me I could have some distance. If he hated me, he wouldn’t say nice things and tell me he was proud of me and make me feel so weak. Having Harry shout at me, had temporarily helped. I needed that. “Just talk about something else.” I sighed. “Anything else.” We set off walking slowly behind them, glad when they were out of sight since they were so far ahead, and Zayn held my hand down by my side, squeezing it tightly. They both knew I shouldn’t have snapped like I had, but they also understood exactly why I had. They both just felt so overwhelmingly sorry for me. I felt sorry for me, too. “Umm... My mum just booked for us to go on holiday.” Zayn shrugged. “Nice! Where?” Louis continued the conversation. “We’re just gunna get a ferry over to Amsterdam in November. Smoke and chill.” “It’s so cool that you can do that with your mum.” Louis chuckled. “She is the best.” I couldn’t really speak, I was just looking down to the pavement as Louis began asking what Zayn would experiment with whilst he was over there. I just wanted to turn around, to run home and go straight to bed. So instead of wishing I was in bed, I decided that was exactly where I should be. “Guys, I’m gunna go home.” I sighed. “You serious?” Louis sulked. “Yeah... I need it. I need to go. I’m sorry.” “I’ll walk back with you.” Zayn said sternly. “No. Just ignore me. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I turned back around before he could argue further, and they both watched me until I was out of sight, making sure I was okay in the only way I would let them. I didn’t cry, I didn’t really feel anything. I just did what I said I would. I went to bed. + + + There was a knock on my bedroom door at around 4am. I was quite easy to stir that night. I had been subconsciously waiting for the noises of them returning home. It was something I had always done, ever since Liam started going out when I was younger and we were still at home. I would wait for him to get home without fully meaning to, and I’d wake up easily just so I knew he was safe. So it didn’t surprise me that I was pretty much half-awake by the time there was a knock anyway. “Come in.” I groaned. I sat upright in my bed, tucking my knees up and tightening the sheets around me as Harry stepped coyly into my room, his hands behind his back. I was speechless. I hadn’t expected him to even want to interact with me the next day, never mind purposefully coming into my room just a few hours after I had belittled him in the street like I had earlier, before running home. He came and sat on the end of my bed, placing whatever he had in his hands down on the floor before he turned so he was facing my way, eyes down on my duvet, hands clenched on top of his legs. I didn’t know what to say; I was choking on my apology because I was so damaged and I needed that little outburst, but I kept thinking about how I had hurt his feelings, and that was the last thing I wanted. Thankfully, Harry had something to say himself. “Y’know how hard it was? Growing up with two dads?” I finally looked up at him, staring at his sad little eyes, concentrating entirely on the way he was struggling, his lack of confidence. I’d never seen him quite like that. Not even when he spoke about his mother. “No.” I whispered. “I was… a victim. From day one.” He continued. “Because of my dads, to some people, it was their excuse and reason to… attack me. I was bullied, so badly. People just saw me as a joke, and I had no idea what to do. All I got, for fucking years, was gay jokes. People treating me like fucking dirt just because they thought I was gay. Just because my parents are gay. Because… some fucking idiots view that as a bad thing. And it was so hard because… I’d had... years of abuse from my mother. Then as soon as I thought I could… have this new life, I… Fuck. As soon as I thought I was safe, I got abuse elsewhere.” My throat was so tight. I really wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to rub my thumb over his fingers and just cradle him, to let him know he was safe and I was there for him. It was so easy to brush over all the things he had been through. He was so confident and strong, you would have never known. “I’m sorry.” I ached. “I felt like a target, and that’s how a lot of people treat me. So… I started fighting back. Literally.” He breathed. “That’s when the fighting started. I used to fight all the time. It got to the stage where… every time someone said anything to me, I’d just flip. That was the only way I knew how to… deal with it. It got less common as I got older, because people were scared of me. I’d… fought and hurt so many people, I got a reputation for myself. Then after that, girls started... looking at me differently and... It was perfect. Anyone I wanted, I got. Suddenly people stopped using me as a punching bag. So... It’s not that I have an issue with my masculinity. I have an issue with people who have issues with masculinity. With people who see being gay as a weakness, or a fault. With people who… have one image of what a family is, and fucking freak out about anything that’s different. I know... I know what it looks like, when I get all defensive but... I dunno. After everything that happened to me... it… It’s just what I’m like.” The answer seemed so obvious. I couldn’t believe I’d never thought of it in such simple terms. I knew slightly about the way he was with females thanks to when he had told me about his power issues, but this just explained so much. I had never known Harry had been bullied, on top of every other struggle he had when he was growing up. “Harry... I’m sorry.” My voice was achingly quiet. “I didn’t mean to upset you I-” “You didn’t upset me.” He tutted. “What upset me, was the thought that you think I’m one of those guys. I hated that. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I was like that. It’s just... What I got used to. I still think I need to protect myself.” My instinct kicked in and I couldn’t stop myself any longer, and reached out and took his hand in mine, and he finally looked up at me. He seemed free of something. I wasn’t sure he had ever told someone the full truth before. I was so glad he had decided to open up to me about it, even if our means of getting to that moment weren’t the best. He had finally been completely honest, not just to me, but to himself. A weight had been lifted. “Thank you.” I shuddered. “For telling me. I can’t imagine what you went through.” He nodded, squeezing my hand a little tighter, and I was glad to know that I was still the person he chose to open up to, even if the foundations of our friendship were completely different to how they had been. ”Anyway, the reason I came here.” He said, leaning down by the bed. “Was to give you this.” He passed me a camera. An Olympus Stylus 1s digital camera, which must have cost him well over £200. My mouth went completely dry as my fingertips devoured the feel of it, before I practically threw it back at him. “No. No, Harry, I can’t take this!” I gasped. “You’ve seen my camera collection, Pip. You know I have plenty. If I’m the one who got you taking pictures again, then I want to be the one who makes sure you’re doing it right.” “I can’t!” “You can, and you will. Please take it.” He held it out for me, and I knew it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He was too stubborn. He wouldn’t budge. I stared at it for a while, and then gently took the weight from his hands. I’d never owned something so extraordinary in my life. Even when I was really into my photography, I had never actually owned a camera as good as that one, and Harry was handing it to me like it meant nothing. It meant everything. “I don’t know what to say.” I was close to tears. “Say you won’t give it up this time.” I looked deep into those gorgeous green eyes of his, and whenever I had felt that certain churn in my stomach previously, I had closed the small gap between us and just kissed him. I wished, more than ever before, that I could kiss him then. “I promise.” I whispered. “Okay. I gotta go.” He squeezed my hand. “Minnie’s waiting for me.” “Okay. Thank you.” “Don’t mention it, Pip. See you tomorrow.” “Goodnight.” He got up and left my room, and I was so awe of the moment we had just shared, I used all my might to try and ignore the fact that he had gone downstairs, to share a bed with his girlfriend.

[nauseateddrive]

THE DISCONNECT by Zachary Toombs

“What is this place?”

“Just a spot I found a while ago.”

The pair of them sat on that wooden skeleton of a rooftop, facing the endless forest. She rubbed her shins every so often when the wind picked up and nipped at them.

He cracked open the tall can he’d gotten. “I hope this is as good as you say it is.”

“It’s stupid that guys have to conform to only drinking beer.” She chuckled. “I promise I won’t call you a pussy.”

He slurped a little. “You know, beer fucking sucks.”

She snickered.

“This shit,” he said, holding up the can, “is great.”

She cracked hers open.

“What’d you get again?” he asked.

“I always drink this. Spiked seltzer.”

“I can’t believe I love canned margaritas.” He shook his head as he took another gulp. “But fuck, if this is the gold standard, I’m gonna have a lot more of them.”

“You’re funny.”

“So,” he said after swallowing. “Where do you live again?”

“The other side of town,” she replied, nodding. “On Hurst.”

“I’ve got a buddy that lives there.” He scoffed. “Well, he was a buddy.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

“Jimmy Kenning.”

“Is it bad that I don’t know him?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He sipped from his margarita. “We used to make movies together.”

“Movies?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “They were stupid little short films, mostly.” He turned and looked at her. “But we were planning a feature. I spent a whole summer writing it and revising it and table-reading it with other friends.” He shook his head with a smile. “It was awesome.”

“That does sound really awesome.” She raised her eyebrows.

He nodded.

“What happened with you two?”

“Well, when it got time to shoot it…” He buried his face into his palm. “No, it’s stupid.”

“Come on, I want to know!” She tugged at his arm.

“Well, the whole thing with the script was that it focused on a closeted gay man.” He looked at her briefly, pausing.

She nodded with a smile.

“And he has this friend through all three acts. Well, actually, two and a half acts.” He took a quick gulp of his drink. “By the end of it, he confesses his love to this friend. Of course, before then, there are little hints and blips of foreshadowing that lead up to it.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It was my way of confessing my love for Jimmy. We were going to play the two leads.”

She looked into his eyes. Hesitant. “O-oh. Does that mean you’re—”

“Oh!” He laughed. “I’m bi. I didn’t totally fool or catfish you or whatever. I promise.”

She laughed too.

“You see, you’re accepting of that.” He shook his head, and the rippling trail of his smile faded. “Jimmy wasn’t.”

“What did he do, if I can ask?”

The silence came, then. It was sharp and hot and prickly, but in direct dissonance with the birds and teeming insects.

“Well.” He bit his lip. “He read it and was really enjoying it until he got to that point.”

***

They only ordered a couple of coffees—which they drank black, because that’s what artists do—and some soup. People who had jobs, lives, and actual schedules hurried about the diner and talked on cell phones with colleagues. They seemed above the two of them, on another plain of existence.

Jimmy read the title again, his steaming cup to his lips. “‘The Disconnect.’” He raised his eyebrows and bobbed his head.

Cameron rubbed his cup of coffee with a stiff thumb. The ceramic could fragment at any moment with that amount of pressure. “Well, I hope you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” Jimmy scratched his chin. “Their relationship is so—”

“It’s not one-dimensional, is it?”

Jimmy chuckled. “No, not at all. I was gonna say the opposite, actually. It’s really authentic.”

Cam sighed, shakily. He tried to shed at least one layer of anxiety. “Thanks.”

“And, at first the end was a shock, but it made sense to me once I thought it over.” He exhaled. “I’m really impressed, Cam. It’s such a you piece.”

“Thank you. It means a lot.”

“Who’d you have in mind for casting?” He took a sip of coffee. “You thinking about doing a call?”

“Well,” he began. “I was thinking we could fill the roles.”

Silverware clinked. Someone’s cell phone rang and wouldn’t stop. Each sounding of the ringtone blared and blared in a crescendo.

“Cam,” Jimmy began. He stared, perhaps to draw an admission of sarcasm. “You’re serious?”

“I mean,” Cam rubbed the cup of coffee harder and faster, “I know how you feel about being on camera, but as artists, we need to push ourselves out of each other’s comfort zones and—”

“What is this?” He shook his head, script in hand. “Seriously, what is this?”

Cam looked at him, tears on the fringes and legs shaking. “I love you,” he said.

Jimmy scoffed. “Are you fucking joking?” He buried his face in both hands, which rubbed. “Oh my god…”

“Jimmy, I—”

He lifted his head up, shooting a glare. That brought silence. “I can’t believe you.”

Jimmy hurried to his feet. He tossed the script toward their booth vaguely, the pages flapping until they hit the tile floor.

Cam felt the tears come. He rubbed his mug hard at first, before befalling to his emotions entirely. He gave his wet cheek to the table. Idiot, he told himself. Why are you such an idiot?

***

“I’m over it, though.” Cam finished the margarita, throwing the can into the forest. “Fuck that guy.”

“Wow,” she said, half-ignoring his remark. “You’re so brave.”

“What? No, I’m not.” He shook his head vehemently. “The whole thing was just stupid.”

“No, I really mean it, Cameron.” She smiled. “You didn’t have to tell me that, and you did.”

“Like I said.” He sniffled. “I’m over it.”

“It’s okay not to be, you know.” She sipped from her seltzer. “I have regrets from, like, eighth grade, still.”

“Regrets?”

“Yeah. More than just an embarrassing tattoo.” She rubbed her shins. “Which I do have.”

“You’ve got to show me before the end of the night.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to see about that,” she said through her teeth.

“What actual regrets do you have, though?” he asked.

She hesitated. Sighed. “I don’t know. A ton.”

“You don’t have to share, of course. That goes without saying.”

“I will though, I will.” She laughed. “You know it’s funny, Cameron.”

“You can just call me ‘Cam’ by the way.”

“Oh, okay. Well, Cam, I was going to say I just think it’s funny.” She giggled.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know!” she protested, still giggling. “I just feel like I’ve known you for a while.”

“Yeah, me too.” His fingers raked his scalp. “Well, actually, it feels like I’ve known you for a while, not that I’ve known me for a while, because obviously I have.”

She took a sip of seltzer, humming quirkily.

“You’re working through that drink pretty slowly, even though I’ve been running my mouth this whole time.”

“Do you want to help me finish it?” she asked, shoving the drink in his face.

“Okay.” He took the can. “A night of firsts. Margaritas, online date, spiked seltzer; what else?” Cam chugged.

“It’s my first online date too.” She scratched her cheek. “I was kind of hoping for just sex at first, but, I’m glad it’s turned into more than that.”

“Me too,” he said quickly. “And holy shit, this seltzer’s made me even gayer.”

She started laughing with her nose scrunched. “You’re fucking hysterical.”

“Hey,” he began, turning stern all of the sudden. “Regrets. Remember.”

“Okay,” she said, begrudgingly.

***

That highway always looked the same. Even if the sun hit the asphalt from a clear sky, the road appeared muddy. There must’ve been construction underway for the better part of a decade, and the same orange cones sat there, collecting weather.

Meaningless traffic.

Just watching the rain patter against the windshield. Following the wipers whir and skid across the glass. Mundane. Irritating.

“I really have to go?” she asked.

Her mother huffed. “It would mean a lot to your father.”

“I didn’t even know this guy.”

“But you know your father, right? And if this means a lot to your father, then it should mean a lot to you, Abby.”

She sighed. Impenetrable silence. The sort Abby couldn’t really fragment with any quip or rebuttal. How could anyone, really? Even if she conjured the most incredible weapon of a sentence, a swift lecture would follow.

Her mother enjoyed those.

“You’re not even going,” Abby said. Perhaps an argument she could defend would do.

“I can’t help with your tuition if I’m not seeing these extra patients.”

Abby sighed.

“But that doesn’t mean you get to just blow Kevin’s wake off.” Her hands smacked the steering wheel between each sentence. “I know it’s your day off, and I know you’ve been having a tough time recently, but…”

A tough time. Abby’s mother knew the mere surface. She had told her about the time she tried acid, but not about the weeks of unbearable depression or random bouts of anxiety that crashed into her. Plus, the acid didn’t really bother her like she said it did. She may had even tried it again. But that wasn’t the point. Abby didn’t want to open up to anyone, let alone her mother, who judged first and gave sound advice second. It was already enough work hiding the smell of cigarettes, which she started smoking to cope with all this.

Everything was gaining ground on her.

“Alright, sweetie?” Her mother’s tone had lightened since Abby started ignoring her.

“Yup.”

They got off the highway. Exit forty-two. There was a deli near the funeral home. Abby didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, so, a roast beef sandwich appealed to her stomach. Most of the time she forgot to eat, and even though it was six-forty-five, she really didn’t feel too ravenous. She could wait until tomorrow if she really wanted to.

Abby watched the deli pass. But after a few more buildings, the funeral home appeared, with a hive of cars surrounding it.

“Text me when you and your dad get home,” her mother said as Abby stepped out of the car. “I love you.”

Abby shut the door.

And after her mother drove away, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

***

“I never said it back.”

The night’s ambient symphony filled the silence. The slight breeze. The groaning of tree trunks and rippling of leaves.

“My mom died on her way to work. Some piece of shit in a ‘72 Gran Torino totaled her car.” She finished her drink and threw the can away.

“I’m sorry,” Cam said. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“It’s so selfish of me, too.” Abby scoffed. “And for what? A stupid day off?”

“I think you blame yourself too much, if I can say.” Cam scratched his cheekbone. “It was just another ordinary argument. And, I don’t know how things were between you guys, but you probably would’ve had some animosity for a day.”

She fended off tears.

“Then you’d make up. Someone would apologize before the other person would.” He snickered. “She wouldn’t want to see you like this, Abby.”

“Thank you.” She wiped her eyes with pulled down sleeves. “That really does help me. I mean it.” Sirens echoed in the distance, over the trees. “What happened with you and Jimmy after that?”

“I haven’t talked to him since.”

“It would be worth it to try.” She gazed into his eyes. “If not for his second chance, then for yours.”

“You think I should?”

“I do.” She nodded. “You can come over before or after you do it.” Abby smiled. “You know what street I’m on.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I do.”

***

It was a small, yellow ranch. The front screen hadn’t been replaced since he’d been there, and the front lawn was overgrown in the same places. That identical plastic fence held nothing but weeds out back.

But he didn’t recognize the car. He remembered Jimmy’s parents always driving Audis.

It didn’t matter what sort of financial drought they were trapped in. It was always Audis. Today, beneath a powdery blue sky laced with strands of clouds, a Honda sat in the gravel.

Cam rubbed his jacket zipper with a stiff thumb. Faster as the seconds passed. He took a step forward, prepping himself for whomever may answer. They could’ve moved. Jimmy could have left Hurst street and the town and all of it to pursue something else. What if Cameron was the reason Jimmy diverged from the path of an artist?

What if it was all his fault?

He knocked, gentle at first, half-regretting his decision already. But when he realized the choice had already been made, he knocked harder and more pronounced. Cam exhaled, tapping his foot on their stoop excessively. “Oh god, what are you doing? What are you doing, Cameron?” he murmured to himself.

The front door’s seal broke. Its hinges groaned as it opened further.

“Cam?”

“Hey.”

He was thinner—no, leaner—than Cam had remembered. But Jimmy stood before him, mind and soul, in the same—albeit trimmed—shell. “H-how’ve you been?”

Cameron rubbed his nose. “Good.”

“Come in, man, come in.” Jimmy opened the screen for him, allowing Cam to step foot into his home. “I’ve missed you.”

They stood in the foyer for a second, inspecting each other to reacquaint. And as Cameron lingered on his chest—on the text of his sweatshirt—he felt the swift embrace of Jimmy.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said through a heavy throat. “I was such an idiot, then, such an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” Cam said, wrapping his arms tight around him. “It is, Jimmy.”

The pair of them stood, the house’s walls sputtering with sounds of pipes.

“Come on,” Cam said. “I want you to meet someone.”

Zachary Toombs is a published author, artist, and filmmaker with works in Fine Lines Creative Journal, Mad Swirl and Freedom Fiction. His artwork is typically done with ink on paper, and is available to view on his Instagram page @toombszachary