#Worst part is I managed to get a massive crush on her

[gayness-and-mayhem]

I'm in the middle of my dissertation and it's due like, next week but I can't stop thinking about Laura Hobson.

[oncloudten]

if he's a serial killer, then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?

ethan landry x fem!reader. scream 6 spoilers. cw: choking, mentions of sex, murder, slight dirty talk.

read part ii. here

"get the fuck off me, you sick fuck!" you managed to get out, barely breathing.

he had you completely fooled. the boy with the puppy dog eyes and the sweetest smile. every horror film has a sweet little dorky cliche virgin, and he chose to embody that role perfectly. ethan landry.

though, the virgin part wouldn't be true. and you have yourself to thank for that.

who would have thought? well, maybe mindy. oh god. she'll kill you for this– if they don't first. if he doesn't.

all those nights you spent with ethan, all those days. everytime you'd tell tara and mindy about him and your massive crush on him, and then eventually the friends-with-benefits thing you had going on, she'd try to offer you her enthusiasm and be the supportive best-friend that she usually is to you, but it would always be followed by heartfelt speeches of her telling you to "be careful" and that she doesn't trust him. she never did like him from the start.

but you weren't worried about mindy right now, you couldn't. not when ethan had such a tight grip around your neck, and your friends were somewhere in this building being chased by his family.

"hmm? i thought you liked it when i did this, princess." ethan smirks, trailing his knife on your cheeks.

asshole. of course he'd say that. because why wouldn't he? he knew everything about you. you had given yourself to him completely– in every way. something so private being used against you– someone so... wicked knowing such intimate and delicate things about you, that no one else does. you can't process anything. "t-that means nothing."

he let go of your neck, but only slightly to stop choking you. he's towering over you, pushing you up against a wall. "didn't seem like that a few nights ago when you were begging for it, you dirty fucking slut."

"fuck you."

"oh, i'd love to. but i got my hands bloody full right now. oh and, been there, done that." he says, proudly. there is something so sinister about his smile. his killer smile. "come on, you sweet dumb thing. lighten up a bit, won't you? you look like you've seen a ghost."

"if you're going to kill me, just fucking do it. why the fuck bring me here? kill me and get it over with." there's no telling what he's going to do. he has you completely isolated from sam and tara. and chad is gone— you found ethan when you were forcibly seperated when ghostface showed up, and it immediately clicked.

"oh no no no no no, you sweet pretty thing. i love sticking things in you, but i would never stick a knife in you. never hurt you. well, i mean, kill you. it's your friends that we're after." he pauses for a bit. "well that wouldn't be right to say either. it is sam and tara that we want," he inches closer to you, "but it just feels so fucking good to kill. so fucking good baby."

"you're sick."

"and you love me. isn't that what you were telling mindy and quinn a few weeks ago? hmm?"

fuck. what are the fucking chances of that wicked witch being his literal fucking sister? "that was before i found out you are the one who is actively trying to kill my best fucking friends, you dimwitted fucking asshole!"

he lets out a low chuckle. "if it makes you feel any better. you're the closest thing i'll ever get to love in this world. i do love you. well, god, did i love fucking you. y'gave me the best sex of my life. but it was more than that."

"stop. just stop. let me go." you beg, "let me go please, ethan. i'll just go- just my friends, my- chad, please."

"i can't do that, angel. my job is to keep you away from them. protect you, even. see, my lovely sister thought it'd be funny to kill you. claims you're just baggage. that it would hurt sam and tara the most because you're practically the closest thing they have to family. but i can't let that happen. so this is the next best thing."

and then all you see is black.

[redrose10]

Yoongi x Female Reader. Soulmate AU

Summary: There’s no one on this planet you hate more than your coworker/secret crush Min Yoongi. He’s an arrogant, rude, womanizer who gets under your skin every single shift and you can’t wait for your day to be over so you can get away from him. Unfortunately when Jimin, your caseworker from The Ministry of Adoration, shows up offering you both a raspberry jam filled cookie, things take a surprising turn for the worst and you can no longer get away.

Warnings: Swearing, hints of smut (nothing graphic or really detailed), a little angst, Yoongi gets around, small hint to homophobia, mentions a guy not taking no for an answer. Might get updated later

Tag list: @kam9404 @yoongisducky @farfromsugafanfic @welcometomyworld13 @viankiss @ktownshizzle @bear8585

(I think I got everyone. If I missed someone I’m sorry and please let me know.)

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Chapter 3- Tea and Tteok-bokki

Word Count: 3,702

When you woke up the next morning you felt a little guilty for being so harsh towards Yoongi the night before. Maybe you did overreact a little because why did you care that you weren’t his ideal type? Even though you had a massive crush on him and you technically were soulmates you still had a deep seated hatred for him or so you thought.

You also woke up and regretted asking Han out and thought about canceling, but then realized maybe it would be good for you to actually go out, meet other people. Especially since Yoongi clearly wasn’t interested.

A knock at your door caught your attention and got you up out of your still semi induced sleep state.

Waking Yoongi was harder than you expected, but you finally got him up and followed behind him as he opened the door.

A smiling Jimin greeted you both. “Here have some breakfast. I got you some bagel sandwiches and two green teas. I thought you might be sick of coffee.”, he said handing over the packages.

He let himself in and took a seat before clapping his hands together, “So I think we need to have a little meeting because you two are one week down and have made zero progress from what I can see. If anything you went backwards.”

“We know.”, you both nodded.

“So then why am I hearing about hook ups with blondes in lingerie, and club girls, and why is Y/N going on a date with some other guy?”

“Wait how do you know all of that?”, you asked.

“I know everything.” Jimin replied.

“Okay but ho-“

“E V E R Y T H I N G”

You had to admit seeing this side of Jimin was a little intimidating. He was normally bubbly and smilly, but he was completely serious at the moment making you realize just how alarming this whole situation was.

He popped a donut hole in his mouth before continuing, “So what is the plan? How do we get you two to actually start trying to make this work?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll make it happen.”, Yoongi nodded.

“Good because I don’t want to have to make another early morning visit over here to voice my frustrations. I am not a nice person before 8am.”

“Yeah I’ll say.”, Yoongi replied while you nodded feeling like a scolded child.

“Y/N can I have a few minutes alone with Yoongi please?”, Jimin asked. You looked around confused as to where he wanted you to go since you couldn’t walk that far away from them.

Spotting your solution you grabbed a pair of headphones off of the table showing them to Jimin for approval which he nodded for so you placed them on your head and began streaming some music to drown out their conversation.

Once he was sure you couldn’t hear anything he turned his attention to Yoongi, “So how did you manage to mess up last night? I thought you were supposed to bring another date to the wedding to make Y/N jealous? Why didn’t it work?”

Yoongi nervously scratched the back of his neck, “Well I ended up not asking the other girl and just taking Y/N as my date instead.”

“And why exactly did you do that? That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted her to be my date for the night. I didn’t want to take anyone else. I wasn’t sure she’d even get jealous if I did anyways.”

“Okay then… so how did things end so badly that she asked another guy out?”, Jimin asked frustration evident in his voice.

“Everything was going great and then she overheard my cousin talking about how she isn’t the type of girl I usually go for and then I don’t know what happened. She just stormed off and has barely spoken to me since.”

Jimin sat with his elbows on his knees looking between the two of you before bringing his fingers up to rub his temples, “How did I end up assigned to a case with the two biggest idiots ever?”

“Excuse me. Who the fuck do you thin-“. Yoongi began, but Jimin cut him off.

“Let me spell this out for you as simply as I can. Everything was going just great between you two yesterday. Then Y/N got upset with you when she overheard your cousin saying that SHE wasn’t YOUR ideal type.“

Yoongi nodded his head, “Yeah I don’t get it either.”

“Oh my god. You two are starting make me rethink my career choice.”, Jimin huffed.

Then he continued, “Y/N got upset when she heard she wasn’t your ideal type…meaning you wouldn’t be interested in her.”

Jimin watched closely expecting Yoongi to come to the same conclusion, but instead he just sat there in silence sipping on his tea.

“I am not paid nearly enough for this.”, Jimin sighed.

He sat forward a little to pull Yoongi attention in, “Yoongi, firstly I want to start by saying that you’re lucky you are so attractive because of it wasn’t for your looks I don’t know what you’d bring to the table. Secondly, Y/N likes you. You big doofus.”

Yoongi continued to stare at the floor until Jimin’s words finally clicked.

“She likes me?!”

“YES! Why else would she be soooo upset thinking that you would never like her back.”

“So then I should just kiss her!”, he exclaimed.

But Jimin shook his head, “Not exactly. You both need to come to terms with your feelings and the kiss needs to be mutual. You can’t just ambush her.”

“Why are there so many fucking rules?”, Yoongi groaned.

“Don’t know. I didn’t make ‘em, I just enforce ‘em.”, Jimin replied popping another donut in his mouth.

“So what do we do now?”

“Well you and Y/N have two weeks to figure it out. Let’s hope her date goes poorly and maybe you could try actually being pleasant to her. Maybe try and woo her.”

Yoongi chuckled, “I’ve never had to woo anyone before. I don’t woo.”

“Trust me, I noticed.”, Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Maybe try some flowers just because. Tell her to her face that she looks pretty instead of drooling over her when she’s not looking. Maybe compliment her in public. Take her on an actual date. Try to hold her hand. You know…relationship things.”

Yoongi pondered for a moment, “Okay I’ll try.”

“Good boy! That’s what I like to hear.”

Jimin caught your attention signaling for you to remove the headphones which you happily obliged.

He grabbed his things and began walking towards the door before spinning around, “Okay both of you promise me that you’re actually going to try and make this work.”

You nodded your head while you heard Yoongi scoff next to you earning him an elbow to the ribs before he finally nodded as well earning a smile smile Jimin.

The following days Yoongi was uncharacteristically nice to you. Like sickenly sweet, lovey dovey nice to the point you offered to take him to the hospital because you were worried he somehow had a head injury even though you knew he hadn’t even come close to hitting his head at any point.

On Monday you woke up to a giant bouquet of roses being delivered to your front door with a card from him. He even sprung for a little teddy bear to be included. You thought it was super sweet, but really weird. Especially when you thanked him and he turned the same color as the roses.

On Tuesday he took you to your favorite lunch spot. He encouraged you to order whatever and how much you wanted and paid for all of it without even a snarky remark. Afterwards he also stopped for ice cream and a walk through the park.

Wednesday was a terrible day weather wise so the two of you stayed in and watched tv. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him consistently move his hand ever so slightly closer to yours his fingers twitching before he’d end up pulling away. He did this close to twenty times before letting out a long sigh and resigning to crossing his arms on this chest as you finished up the next episode. You knew it was odd, but didn’t want to start an argument by asking.

Now it was Thursday and the two of you were working a double shift together.

It was super busy thanks to the hot weather and a buy one get one half off promotion going on.

You had just finished up with a customer when you heard Yoongi clear his throat next to you.

“Can I help you?”, you asked amused.

He remained silent staring out the window while fidgeting with the end of his apron, a nervous habit of his that you had noticed a long time ago.

“Umm well I uh I’m…”

“Are you having a stroke?”, you giggled

“Just forget it.”, he whispered before turning away from you.

“No I’m sorry.”, you said grabbing his arm.

“What did you want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, “I just wanted to tell you that youlookreallyprettytoday.”

“I’m sorry Yoongi I couldn’t understand that.”

“Why is this so hard?”, he mumbled before turning to face you, “Y/N, I think you look really pretty today.”

Your eyes widened in shocked. The Min Yoongi giving you a compliment without being provoked? And in public like this?

“Oh yeah I’m sure I look great after sweating and being soaked in coffee and sugar for the last 8 hours.”, you chuckled.

You expected him to laugh or even make a sarcastic remark, but he just nodded, “Yeah I do think you look pretty like this.”

“Oh oh okay, well thank you.”, you whispered feeling your cheeks heat up both in embarrassment and confusion.

You went to try and give a compliment back when you heard someone say your name grabbing your attention.

“Oh hi Han”, you forced a smile.

“Hi Y/N, ready for our date tomorrow?”

“Oh of course! Can’t wait.”, you exclaimed a little too excitedly.

You heard Yoongi snort next to you causing you and Han to both look in his direction. Han visibly tensed up once he noticed how close Yoongi actually was which you had to admit made you smirk a little.

“What can I get for you?”, you asked trying to get Han out of the cafe.

“Umm what do you suggest? Like if Y/N was going to order a drink using her pretty little mouth what would she have?”

This time it was Yoongi’s turn to tense up before turning to Han, “She’d have a large cup of fucking order something or get the fuck out.”

Han stepped back in surprise. You were no stranger to seeing Yoongi or one of the other guys put Han in his place, but something about the way he snapped back at him this time really stirred up some feelings in you.

Wanting to just make the sale and move on with your day you continued, “I’d probably just get a black coffee and add some hazelnut creamer. I’m pretty easy like that.”

“Mmhhhmm I hope so.”, Han replied as you quickly finished up at the register wanting out of the situation. You had missed the way Yoongi gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white thanks to Hans little comment.

You handed him his drink and as he was leaving he turned to you, “So we’ll meet at 6pm? At that Italian place I told you about?” You nodded as he turned and happily walked out the door.

“Seriously you’re still gonna go out with that creep?”, Yoongi suddenly spoke making you jump a little.

“Yes. I like him. Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”, you asked secretly hoping he’d give you a good reason not to go.

“Yes because I love you and I want you to stay home with me forever.”, he said internally, but outwardly he just shrugged, “I don’t know. Do whatever you want. You’re an adult.”

You simply nodded while trying to ignore the way the atmosphere shifted between you two and how Yoongi suddenly became cold and callous towards you. He remained that way for the rest of the shift as well as at home.

The next day you woke up determined to enjoy your date. Maybe Han came off kind of creepy and forward, but you were hoping he was just an awkward idiot who was actually a sweet guy.

Yoongi sulked on the bed as he watched you go through your closet. He couldn’t believe he was going to have to sit there alone at a restaurant while the love of his life goes on a date next to him.

“Okay pink or purple?”, you asked holding up two different dress options.

“I don’t care. Whatever you want.”, he spat back.

You licked your lips in annoyance before deciding on the pink one.

Once at the restaurant and after a very awkward conversation of having to explain to the hostess that Yoongi had to have a seat as close to you as possible, but still at a different table you were sat across from Han. You felt overdressed once you realized he had shown up in jeans and a dirty tshirt. He didn’t even bother to shower or comb his hair. You were appalled at his lack of effort.

He was going on and on about some video game that you’d never even heard of and your mind drifted over to Yoongi.

You snuck a peak and saw him reading through the menu while he sipped on his drink. Even though he was sat alone he wore a crisp navy blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up that he paired with a dark wash jean. His hair was lightly styled and you knew he smelled amazing because you couldn’t stop thinking about it as his cologne filled the air of the car on the drive over.

“Will the Mrs. be joining you this evening?”, you heard the waitress ask him.

He smiled, “No dining solo tonight.”

“Oh that’s too bad. I bet she’ll be so devastated that she missed out on a date night with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the waitresses clear attempt to flirt while confirming whether or not Yoongi actually had someone.

You saw him smirk before he replied, “There actually isn’t anyone. But uh maybe that could change tonight.”

The waitresses cheeks turned pink as she scurried over to the next table. You felt a wave of jealousy and a maybe a little hurt wash over you. You were no stranger to watching Yoongi flirt, but for some reason that time it really struck a cord with you. You were also currently on a date with another man so you had no idea why that little interaction made you feel such a way and you felt a little guilty for feeling so because if you could go out with someone else then so could Yoongi.

You turned your attention back to Han for a while before you decided you need a break and pulled out your phone sending a text to Yoongi,

You: I need to go to the bathroom.

Demon Kitty: Okay? Here’s a cookie 🍪

You: 🙄

You: As much as I would love to, I can’t go without you. So please get up and I’ll follow right after.

Demon Kitty: But my dinner should be here any minute 🥺

You were about to reply when Yoongi stood up and slowly started walking towards the restrooms.

“I’ll be right back. I have to use the restroom.”, you let Han know before you stood up waiting for a group of women clearly from a bachelorette party to pass you before quickly catching up to Yoongi who had hid himself off to the side to wait for you.

Yoongi was as close up to the bathroom door as he could be while you quickly tried to do your business.

“Hurry up Y/N! I’m pretty sure this old woman is about to call the police on me.”, he hissed through the door.

“Sorry sorry, this dress is a pain.”, you said opening the door.

“Yeah well I did tell you to wear sweatpants remember?”

“I’m not wearing sweatpants on a dat-“

Yoongi suddenly stopped in front of you causing you to crash into his back, “What the hell Yoongi?”

Quickly he turned around, “Uhh let’s go home.”

You shook your head, “No I want to go back to my date.”

“Please Y/N, let’s just go.”

“What has gotten into you?”

“Diarrhea. I knew that calamari tasted weird.”

“Eww tmi. But let me at least go grab my sweater.”

“No need. I’ll buy you a new one.”, he said trying to pull you away.

You managed to slip out of his grip though and when you looked around the corner you saw Han sitting at the table making out with one of the women from the bachelorette party. Your mouth went dry as you watched the two of them going at it.

Yoongi cleared his throat and motioned for you follow him which you did. Once back in the comfort of his vehicle he looked you over.

“Are you okay? I know you liked him.”, he softly spoke.

He wasn’t expecting you to chuckled, but you couldn’t help it, “Honestly I didn’t even really like him. I just wanted to prove that I wasn’t some stuck up prude, but I guess I won’t even get that chance.”

Yoongi watched you as you fidgeted with your fingers while staring out of the window. He really hoped it wasn’t his worlds that made you feel like you needed to prove that. Even though deep down he knew they were.

He started up the car and began driving.

“Where are you going?”, you asked realizing he wasn’t going home.

“You’ll see.”

Not long after he parked at one of the local night markets that was packed with various street vendors selling goods.

“Neither of us ate dinner so I figured we could get some food before going home.”, he said.

You nodded, “Sounds nice.”

You both talked for what felt like hours as you walked around the market stopping at various stalls. You really got to know a lot about each other that neither of you ever bothered to do before.

You were getting full, but agreed that you couldn’t leave without getting an order of tteokbokki.

You had begun to stare off into the night sky when you heard Yoongi clear his throat. You looked over finding him holding out a single piece of tteokbokki, “A tteokbokki for your thoughts.”, he smiled.

You laughed before taking the toothpick and popping the cake in your mouth.

“What’s wrong with me Yoongi?”, you asked after swallowing it down.

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I asked out Han because I thought he would be an easy hookup, but that clearly didn’t work out. Even someone like him didn’t want me. Jae didn’t want me. My two boyfriends before that didn’t want me. Even my own soulmate doesn’t want me.”

Yoongi could feel his heart shattering. Gently he grabbed your chin turning you to face him, “Y/N, please don’t ever feel like that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re smart, funny, a hard worker. You’re beautiful. All those guys are big fucking idiots.”

“You were include in that group you know?”, you giggled.

“Yeah and I’m the biggest idiot of them all.”, he laughed back.

You felt like your heart was going to explode. You weren’t completely sure, but a part of you felt like this was his way of admitting that he loved you. You wanted to confess and say something to confirm it, but there was that little part of you that was worried you were misreading everything.

As you were having an internal debate about whether or not to confess Yoongi leaned in ever so slightly. Everything in his body was telling him to move closer, confess his love for you and then gently pull your face to him so that he can lean in and kiss you like he’s always wanted to. Then take you back home and show you all the ways that you were perfect to him.

He leaned in a little closer waiting to see if you’d back away and when you didn’t he took that as his sign.

“This is really hard to say even though it shouldn’t be so I’m just going to come out and say it.”

Your heart felt like it was beating a million beats per second and Yoongi was starting to worry that he really did get poisoned by some bad calamari judging by how his stomach felt like it was doing flips.

He managed to push through though and continued, “Y/N, I know I don’t really act like it, but I really do lo-“

“There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you.”, a high pitched voice exclaimed next to you.

“Rose? What are you doing here?”, Yoongi asked looking very confused.

“You told me to meet you here silly!”

Yoongi remained silent.

Rose pulled out her phone, “Yeah see here. You texted me yesterday at 9:07pm. Wanna meet up? It’s been a while. Need you baby. And then I said of course my little suga cookie. And then you said great. Meet me at the main night market at 8:30. Wear something easy to take off.“

Yoongi was speechless as you stared at him in disbelief.

“So here I am! Just like you asked.” Rose continued oblivious to the situation.

You swallowed the lump in your throat the best that you could. Apparently you had 100% completely misread the situation.

“Soooo are we going to head to the car or where did you want to do this?”, she asked excitedly.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Um Rose I’m sorry but I actually think that maybe we shouldn’t continu-“

You cut him off, “Continue this here. He means continue this here. Come on. I know a place you both can go.”

You stood up and tossed the rest of your garbage in the trash. Rose happily followed after you while a confused Yoongi was forced to trail behind feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, a feeling he was getting quite used to.

[strawb3rrysweetheart]

HI!!! I SAW REQUESTS ARE OPEN, I'M SO EXCITED THAT I'M MAKING MY FIRST REQUEST!!! ❤❤❤ (btw, love your workkk)

Lucifer Morningstar x reader (that guy has had me on a chokehold since I watched the show)

Basically, Lucifer has a crush on her (fallen angel or sinner) and he decided to try a few pickup lines as they are alone together in the hotel lobby. (Courting?) Something cheesy like "Ow, I scraped my knee, falling for you". But reader interprets it wrong and thinks he actually scrapped his knee. After managing to calm down her panic, get tries again with a cheesy pickup line, like, "I can't breathe, you're so breathtaking"(something like that😭?) And she once again freaks out and pushes him onto the chair to perform 'CPR'. He tries to object but before he could, she straddles him to get a better angle to do the CPR. His face turns red and she thinks that he's choking so she tries mouth to mouth. (Plot twist, she doesn't know how to do CPR and just basically kisssed him in her attempt.) Somehow she can't pull away when this CPR turns into a make out session? Smut? Thanks! Once again, love your work! ❤❤❤

AHAHAHAHAHHHH OKAY! I'M SO HONORED TO BE YOUR FIRST REQUEST, SORRY FOR GETTING TO YOU LATE</3 (totally not procastating writting part two of the angel dust fic bc it already got no likes to begin with noo..)

CW: the worst pick up lines, I'm sorry he doesn't know what he's doing. Reader was a nurse in her past life, but she still doesn't know how to do cpr. Very heavily implied smut (Im sorry I didn't wanna write it)

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺

Lucifer started visiting the hotel more frequently. He would swear it was to visit to Charlie, and well sure it might've started that way, but it was obvious. Lucifer had a massive crush on you. Everyone saw it.. Well execpt you. He had even started using pickup lines! Yet you weren't getting it.. Maybe you just didn't like him?? Well.. he had to try. As he walked over to where you sat in the hotel. He notices you were very distracted... perfect. Lucifer walks over to you, and fake trips. "Oops, I just fell for you~" Lucifer thought it was perfect, you were bound to jump into his arms, or at least his pride said so, he looks into your eyes.. why do you look so concerned..?? "Oh!? Are you okay?!" You ask in a panicked tone, looking at his knee which was slightly scrapped. What.. Lucifer looks very confused. Is this rejection? Its the weirdest way you could've done it if it is.. "Oh darling I'm fine.. that was.. well.. y'know what forget it I'm fine" He chuckles, sitting down next to you. "Y'know I must be going blind from your beauty~" He grins, this one has to get you. "Oh?! Oh my satan!? Let me check your eyes!" You ask in a panicked tone. You grab his face and hold his eye open, to lucifers dismay. "What.. are you doing..?" He asks as you clutch his chin with one hand, the other holding his eye open. "Making sure you aren't going blind! Duh!" You say, still checking his eye. "I'm fine dollface I swear.." Lucifer chimes into your panic. Were you really this dense or was this how you showcased not being intrested??. He has yet to find out. "You sure?" You ask suspiciously. "I swear on ducks" Lucifer chuckles. Once you finally let him go, you and him start having a conversation, Lucifer isn't really sure about what.. He zoned out and just started nodding along five minutes into the conversation. Now he's just staring at you, god you're divine in his eyes. "I can't breath, for your beauty has taken my breath away~" He says in a moment of silence. He sees your look of panic. "Lucifer?! Its okay I'm a nurse! I'll do cpr!" You shriek, very worried. Before lucifer can protest you smash your lips into his... This is when lucifer finds out you don't know how to do cpr.. so this just ends up being your first kiss. Lucifer ends up leaning into the kiss, which you take as a sign he can breathe again.. but I mean, kissing him is kind of nice. Lucifer grabs you by your hips and picks you up, carrying you into a seprate room outside of the hotel lobby. He sets you down on the bed. Lucifer pulls away softly. "I love you .. I always have" He smiles, and you smile back. "I love you too.." You grin. "What??? Why would you never return my flirting then??" Lucifer is very confused. What??. "What?! You flirted with me?? When" You question. "Uh.. like everyday??" He seems extremely confused. "Oh.." You slowly get hit with a wave of realization. That was flirting.. not lucifer just having bad health. "Its fine darling.. but you do gotta finish what you started~" He grins, before kissing you again, and you kiss him back. Eventually you feel his hands sneak down to the zipper of your dress. He pulls away from your lips. "May I~?"He asks, messing with the zipper.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺

You cuddle against lucifers chest, his shirt thrown somewhere across the floor, and you were just in your bra. "Love you luci" You smile, you both are sweaty but neither of you want to get up. You will in a few moments, but whatever, now you just want to enjoy eachothers company<3

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺

[skaruresonic]

https://www.tumblr.com/skaruresonic/766227191005577216/so-clean-sweep-has-just-been-exposed?source=share

"How do they think this is going to reflect on them?"

Something like that would require to the writers to think about what they wrote beyond vibes and vague understanding of tropes. So I wouldn't count on it ever being brought up.

If they do bring up the topic they'll somehow spin it so that Sonic's the one responsible for every bad thing to ever happen. This comic only brings up the negative implications of things when the writers want to make a game character look incompetent or scummy.

Lanolin's hot head tyrant personality almost got people killed during the race. Sonic saved those people but he's still definitely the worst person ever because we say so. That's how this comic is.

They won't talk about how bad this makes the restoration look. They're gonna warp the narrative to make Sonic and his friends look like idiotic villains even if that conclusion is completely illogical.

Yeah I didn't mention it too much in my reactions, but there was an odd emphasis on public perception throughout this arc. Tails and Amy are suddenly worried about "ruining" the race by breaching the Restoration shuttle. It's one of the reasons they chose not to take the infinitely simpler option of flying up there on the Tornado.

Sonic being revealed to be the Phantom Rider in front of his friends is treated like a hard-hitting moment of betrayal (to the point where Tangle, standing frozen in shock, would have been crushed under a falling rock if Whisper hadn't pulled her away. and no, I am not making that up)... but it kind of doesn't mean anything if he doesn't ultimately care.

Surge suddenly grows to care about the public's adoration where before she didn't care about the world. Because praise kink is enough to override her brainwashing, apparently.

Clutch is instantly exposed in 4K HD through a public broadcast.

Given this emphasis on PR, logically people should have questions about how Clean Sweep managed to fool the Restoration. Not only did Clean Sweep poison water, land, and air to a seemingly Eggman-esque extent that it's tainted crops, they're said to have "falsified records" and "violently silenced" whistleblowers. How they failed to notice any of this, especially given everyone's sensitivity to the environment following Forces and the metal virus, is beyond me.

You mean Jewel, whose existence revolves around doing paperwork, was fooled by forged documents?

You mean Lanolin, who has a huge stick up her ass about keeping her people in line, was so remiss at vetting a company that wanted to work with her organization that she didn't notice folks were being tied up and stuffed into closets?

You mean the organization dedicated to making the world a better place, at best, failed to notice the MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF POLLUTION their sponsor was getting up to?

In a more coherent narrative, there's no way people wouldn't connect the dots. All of this combined would imply a massive failure on the Restoration's part and possibly damage their reputation.

[zaph-kiel]

The request:

Failed escape

This request was given to me by my brother. That's all.

FUCK THIS IS SO HARD TO WRITE 😭

Ignore how ooc this is lmao

--------

This was the nth time they had escaped from his men. This new escape artist was driving him crazy!

There was a new criminal. They had only really started causing problems about a year ago, so still fairly new to their job, and yet the silvermane could never catch them. They had this... way about them. They would always almost let themself get captured and then slip away last minute. It didn't matter what the silvermane or Gepard had planned, it seemed this criminal was always one step ahead.

Y/n chuckled to themself as they watched from afar at the guards who looked around in a panic, blaming eachother for the loss of prisoner. "They never learn, do they?" Y/n played with the handcuffs that had been around their wrists but a minute ago. "Thanks for the trophy~" they said to nobody really, then vanished.

__________________

"Servaaal!" Y/n whined out as they flopped on her counter "it broke.." They muttered, letting go of the item they were holding.

"It's your fault for having it so complicated!" The Rockstar said, grabbing the sickle and pressed a button, splitting the sickle down the middle and unfolding it, turning it into a bow. "Where did you even get this idea?... no matter, did you get to see my brother?" She teased. Serval knew of the rivalry between Y/n and Gepard. She also knew that Y/n (though they denied it) had a crush on the silvermane captain.

"Nope, he didn't show up." The escapist sighed with a pout. "I feel like he's ignoring me... Serval, tell him to pay more attention to me!" They whined. They loved bullying Gepard. Mainly by constantly playing this cat and mouse game and making him think that he's won, only for them to escape from right under his nose. And for those times where they wouldn't even let themself get caught, the worst they stole was a knife or food. It was like they never intended to keep the valuable things they stole, but they only stole said things for the heck of it.

"Then maybe steal something more valuable this time? Maybe break into the Supreme guardian's room." Serval suggested.

"Bronya's room? But she's so sweet! A cinnamon roll! I know shes strong and all, but hush! She's baby!" Y/n whined again.

__________________

"Why did I agree to this.." Y/n wondered as they sat on a rooftop, looking up at the massive building. While Y/n hadn't met her personally, they never felt any hatred to the current Supreme Guardian.

The theif stood up and got to work, easily slipping by the guards. Y/n had heard from Serval multiple times about how Gepard was both confused and concerned about the fact that they hadn't been active as of late. It's because Y/n had been planning possibly the best heist of their life.

"Fuck... okay, let's just do this." They muttered to themself and climbed down.

It was stupid, all they were going to steal was a fucking snow globe. Of course, they had to be careful so it wouldn't break. It's not like they were stealing it to keep it. It would be returned to Bronya safe and sound. They just wanted Gepard's attention.

Fuck it felt good admitting that.

____________________

The beginning was easy, sneaking in and actually getting to the snow globe. They snagged themself a few snacks aswell.

But it was the getting out part that was difficult. Hell they almost got caught atleast 4 times.

And once they thought they were actually out, Gepard was there. Ready. And they let themself get caught by him. But only for the time.

Gepard returned the snow globe as planned, however this time, it was almost impossible for them to escape from the silvermane. Goddamn it was difficult.

But Y/n managed.

And soon, they found themself hiding in Serval's shop. A groan left them and the slumped over, "that was the hardest fucking heist of my life." Then a smile crept up on their face. "But, atleast Gepard was there to capture me this time!"

Their words caused the woman to laugh, "You're really down bad for my brother." Her response almost earned her a random small item chucked at her head, which made her laugh even more. "Nice shot, dumbass!"

With a tilt of her head and a pat on the stool, Y/n understood that she wanted them to sit over there, "c'mon, let me patch you up."

Y/n sighed and got up, walking over and slumped onto the barstool like chair, resting against the workbench behind them as Serval started to take care of the wounds all over their body. "You're not usually this roughed up. C'mon, off with your shirt."

Y/n did as they were told, taking off their shirt as they explained. "Ugh, some guards on the inside saw me while I was on my way out. I had to be careful so the globe wouldn't brea-!" The door to the workshop slammed open.

"Sist- YOU!" Gepard yelled out as he locked eyes with Y/n. They just stared back at him with shock.

"I'm out." Serval said and quick retreated back further into the building. "Try not to destroy anything!" She yelled out before finally disappearing behind a door.

"Traitor.." Y/n muttered out after Serval left, turning their attention back to Gepard. "Hi.." They said, then bolted for the same door his sister walked through.

Except Y/n didn't move an inch.

Gepard had an iron grip on their arm.

"Why were you shirtless with my sister?!" He asked, authority ringing though his voice while his eyes held possessiveness. Clearly he had gotten the wrong idea.

"Whu- wait! She was just patching me up after that fight!" Y/n explained in a hurry. "I have no feelings for your sister! I swear!"

Gepard tightened his grip. He was an amazing guard but also a protective brother. "What makes you think I believe that?! I'm sure all you try to steal is for her!"

"It's for you!" They blurted out. "I steal because i- I like you." Y/n clarified, "I don't know how else to make you notice me. You take such pride in your job. So having you chase me means I'm someone you see as worthy!"

That.. was kind of twisted, but coming from someone of their background, it also made sense.

"You.. steal because you want me to.. chase you?" Gepard asked, just wanting to make sure he understood it correctly.

And with a fast nod, he understood.

"Is that also why you let yourself get caught? Because you don't actually want the objects you steal?"

Another nod.

Gepard hummed. "Well, I can't just let you go. After all, you still stole those items. And especially with today's little.. heist. I'm going to need to put you under arrest." He stated coldly, yet he let go of their arm. "However, once you get let out.. well, maybe we can continue this conversation." He blushed.

And that sealed it.

[queensqewed0722]

Eeeeee!!!! I love Choi Jinhyuk and Jeong Eunji in “Miss Night & Day”!!!! 😍😍😍

I haven’t posted about this drama because I was just too focused on watching it. It was a fun and crazy romp, part fantasy/fairytale, part romcom, part suspense-thriller. And I just loved the combination of Choi Jinhyuk, who looks quite dashing and handsome as Prosecutor Gye Ji-ung, and APink member and vocalist Jeong Eunji as the intelligent but insecure Lee Mi-jin.

Of course, there’s the uber-talented veteran actress Lee Jeungeun, who plays Lim Sun, Lee Mi-jin’s daytime alter ego.

Basically, Lee Mi-jin is a 29 year old young woman who, for some reason, keeps failing her civil servic exams despite being quite intelligent and talented, and having reviewed thoroughly. Turns out she has a massive case of insecurity towards her own abilities and talents. Yet becoming a civil servant is her dream.

One day, after failing her latest try at the civil service exam, she gets drunk and encounters a mysterious orange cat. The next day, she finds that she’s turned into a fifty-something woman overnight. Yet strangely enough, this results in her getting the dream job that she’s always wanted. She gets into a senior intern program at the Prosecutor’s Office and becomes promoted from maintenance to clerical work as a reward for her good performance and her bravery.

Mi-jin takes on the name Lim Sun in her middle-aged woman persona, which was the name of her aunt who had disappeared 24 years ago. As Lim Sun, she becomes the clerical associate at Gye Ji-ung’s office and finds herself assisting him and his teammate, Investigator Ju, in finding out the culprit of several gruesome killings that had occurred in their city recently. The killings aree reminiscent of several serial murders that had occurred at the same place decades before.

The murders turn out to hit closer to home than Mi-jin realizes, because it eventually turns out that her aunt had been of the serial killer’s victims many years before. This is something she has in common with Prosecutor Gye, who had returned to the city of Seohan to investigate these gruesome murders, with the hunch that his own mother had been one of the earlier victims as well.

Even as all these things happen around her, Mi-jin keeps searching for the mysterious cat, which she believes is the answer to her strange condition.

The series is at once funny and serious, sometimes a romcom and sometimes a makjang. Somehow, the actors manage to make everything work all throughout, and this can be credited not just to their skills as actors but to the script and the directing as well.

The actress Lee Jeungeun showcases why she is one of the main actors in the Oscar-winning film “Parasite”. As Lim Sun, she is able to portray the angst and insecurities of a young woman, including all her clumsiness and thrill at having a huge crush on her boss.

Choi Jinhyuk is perfect as the dour and no-nonsense ace lawyer, Gye Ji-ung. He is at once strong and vulnerable. He gives off the aura of someone who’s supremely confident and self-possessed, yet deep inside, he hides the trauma of a young boy who lost his mother.

Jeong Eunji is spunky and charming as Lee Mi-jin. She’s very determined and single-minded but her fears of her own inadequacy is her worst enemy. Eunji manages to convey all of this in her portrayal. She’s an excellent actress and manages to convince the viewer of Mi-jin’s struggles and brokenheartedneas every time she fails.

It’s also good that the actors have such wonderful chemistry together. All throughout the drama, the viewer is thoroughly convinced that Eunji’s Mi-jin and Jungeun’s Sun are one and the same person. And whenever either one of them is acting in the same scene as Choi Jinhyuk, there’s no question that they’re one and the same person who’s in love with him.

Although the drama ended in a typical fashion by tying up all loose ends in the final episode, it still managed to give ample time for Mi-jin and Ji-ung’s reunion. And it was neatly dovetailed with Mi-jin’s middle-aged self bidding both Mi-jin and Ji-ung farewell.

It was a satisfying watch overall. I was surprised to discover a new KDrama OTP in Choi Jinhyuk and Jeong Eunji. They do look good together and their chemistry is organic and very natural. No wonder their co-actor Lee Jungeun ships them so strongly in real life.

[rebuke-me]

@ last ask game... gonna ask the obvious one: jupiter? (also maybe all of the worst girls)

FANTASTIC i'll do them all :3

jupiter

Realistic :

jupiter plays the acoustic guitar because she was part of her church's band but can't really sing.

While it may not be realistic, it is hilarious :

she had a MASSIVE crush on rarity from my little pony when she was a kid, but refuses to admit it to anyone.

Heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends :

the first time she felt the hands was after her first queer thought. she woke up covered in scratches from hands that weren't hers, because she thought that she had to punish herself.

Unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own :

jupiter's secretly a big book nerd, but she pretends she isn't because that would ruin her whole athlete image. she usually has an audiobook in her earbuds when she's allowed to have them in. she really likes ya fiction and has a secret library card so her mom cant see that she's listening to secular media.

venus

Realistic :

she wears chapstick religiously, and always has a stick in her pocket.

While it may not be realistic, it is hilarious :

venus had a MASSIVE eminem phase when she was nine and can, in fact, rap all of his discography with ease.

Heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends :

when she was a kid, she wanted to be a pastor. then she realized that she couldn't ever do that, for a variety of reasons. she did cry about it. she hates the fact that she feels like a part of her is always going to miss the idea of that, of fitting in properly, even if the dream was stupid, looking back on it.

Unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own :

she's the one of group west that has the dirtiest mouth. she's usually muttering some incredibly creative expletives under her breath.

neptune

Realistic :

she has a septum piercing that she flips up into her nose when her parents walk by.

While it may not be realistic, it is hilarious :

she's the stage manager for her theater club at her school and is a HUGE stickler for the rules. she can and will fuck up your shit if you don't listen to her.

Heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends :

she never cries. she physically can't do it, it just kind of stops before it gets going. she sometimes tries really, really hard to properly do it, staring at herself in the mirror, telling herself terrible things to try and make herself cry. she never can, and it just makes her feel worse.

Unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own :

she's the most sheltered of the three. she pretends she isn't, but the only non-religious thing she's ACTUALLY consumed and didn't just get the references through cultural osmosis is, unfortunately, harry potter. so most of her childhood was full of religious media. girl has never seen spongebob.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #24

Prompt: “Did you just sneeze?”

Fandom/OCs: Grey’s Anatomy (Meredith and Derek)

Words: 710

Sicknario inspo: Doctor with hay fever from this post

Author’s comments/background: I’ve only written Grey’s Anatomy once before for a fic exchange event (read it here) but it’s a fandom I’ve been in for a long time and always intended to write for. Not sure how great the characterization is here since admittedly it’s been a minute since I’ve revisited these lovlies, but I think it works. This is set in the first few seasons when Meredith is still an intern and super angsty and pining after Derek from afar, AKA the best part of the series IMO. This is also the only allergy fic this year. Allergies aren’t usually my thing, but I try to squeeze at least one in every Sicktember. 

~~~***~~~

In Meredith's opinion, spring was the most horrible time of the year. Everyone pretends to be happy about the flowers and the birds and the love in the air in spring, and fake happiness is Meredith's worst nightmare, but it's not just the fake happiness. She was also cursed with the world's worst spring allergies, and she spent most of every spring wanting to claw her eyes out from the itching or else worried her nose was going to fall off from all the sneezing. Allergy medications didn't work, except to make her tired enough to fall asleep standing up, and she would choose being sneezy over being near-comatose in the OR any day. She could keep the sneezing under control when she needed to, at least usually. 

One morning though, while doing rounds with the rest of the interns, her nose betrayed her. She was the presenting intern for one of Dr. Shepherd's patients, and it was an interesting case that she was excited about. The minute she walked into the patient's room, though, she knew she was in trouble. The smell coming from the two massive bouquets of flowers beside the bed almost knocked her over, and she cleared her throat to ward off a coughing fit, making an unattractive hacking noise. Cristina elbowed her none-too gently, giving her a "get it together" look. 

Meredith did her best to get it together, but she was fighting a losing battle from the start, since all the flowering plants outside had nearly done her in before she'd even arrived. She started off in a clear voice, presenting the case and all the research she'd done, but the itch in her sinuses grew nigh unbearable in moments. Derek saved her by asking the interns a question just as she was about to lose control, and while Cristina was showing off her knowledge, Meredith turned to the corner of the room to let out a stifled sneeze. It was quiet, thankfully, and she hoped no one noticed. Yet when she turned back around, Derek was looking right at her. 

"Did you just sneeze?" he asked with a half smile. 

"Nope. Just clearing my throat. Sorry." She felt Cristina's eyes boring into her, which Meredith pointedly ignored as she continued to present, trying not to breathe in the smell of the flowers. It was a lost cause though, and out of nowhere she sneezed, harsh and wet and totally unhidable, all over the chart in her hands. 

"Bless you!" exclaimed the patient. "Oh dear, are you getting a cold, dear? Or–oh no, are the flowers bothering you?"

"I'm fine," Meredith managed, though her eyes were streaming and her nose wasn't far behind. "I'm not sick, don't worry about me. So as I was saying…."

She pushed through the rest of her presentation through sheer force of will, but her fate was sealed, and she crushed another sneeze into her shoulder as she finished. 

"Bless you!" exclaimed the patient, the patient's husband, and Dr. Shepherd. The other interns were either snickering behind their hands or looking sympathetic. 

Derek quickly came to her rescue even as she felt another sneeze building. "Thank you, Dr. Grey. She explained what we're going to do very well, but do you have any questions for me?"

As the patient and her husband began to interrogate the neurosurgeon, Meredith accepted the inevitable and turned away to sneeze twice more into her elbow. The patient turned to look at her once more.

"God bless you again! Are you quite sure you're alright, dear?"

"I'm really fine," Meredith sniffled. She forced herself to smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. "And anyway, I think we're supposed to be asking you that."

Her breath began to hitch into another sneeze, and this time Derek turned to her with an amused look. "Why don't you excuse yourself and go blow your nose, Dr. Grey. I think we've got it from here. But come back when you're ready and we'll go over the case again, away from the flowers."

Red-faced, Meredith did as she was told. Yes, she thought to herself as she washed her face in the bathroom down the hall, she really really hated spring.

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter One, Part 6

I smiled to myself. I didn't know the bar at all, but I also knew all but jack shit about Walker's Point. Hell, I was still learning things about my own neighborhood. It didn't really matter though. I'd get to hang out with my friend. It'd been about two months since the last time we hung out physically. And it'd be kind of cool to see Alana again too. We use to hang on the edges of the same circles in high school, and I had a massive crush on her for a really long time. But I wasn't a very smart teenager, and resorted to the childish way of telling a girl you liked them. I mocked her relentlessly. I was in the first grade again, pulling the hair of the girl I liked.

ME: Yeah, I should be to get a Saturday night off. I never do, so it shouldn't be a problem. I'll probably have to go in Sunday to do the numbers and stuff but fuck it. It'll be worth it. It'll be a good time. I haven't seen Alana in fucking years.

It was Tuesday, and I always had Tuesday's off. My schedule was pretty routine, and it rarely changed in any way. I really could go in pretty much whenever I wanted, and just because I dressed and thought in that punk rebellion feeling, didn't mean that I didn't take huge pride in my job. I had worked my way up from a dishwasher back in Oconomowoc. And now I was the kitchen manager and lead line in Milwaukee. I liked the work. And the workplace is where I've made the few friends I have in Milwaukee. I couldn't make real friends on the campus because nothing forces me to talk another human being. Work does. Plus, the money was ok. I didn't worry about much. My bills were paid and if I really wanted something, I got it. I was comfortable.

It was 3:35. Time to make my way back across the bridge and up to the campus. I left, and about fifteen minutes later I was sitting on a table in the campus cafeteria. I won't lie, I hurried here. I could have slowly walked and still would have had time, but for once, I wanted to be somewhere. I had my headphones and was listening to Green Day's Kerplunk! album. I sat there, mumbling along to '2000 Light Years Away" and letting my eyes scan the cafeteria. I didn't really expect her to show. So I hoped for the best, and prepared for the worst.

It was running on 4:30 when I decided she had done the sensible thing. It sucked, quite a lot actually, and I was bummed about it. I couldn't really be upset with her though. It was the smarter choice. I sighed heavily, and stood up. Only for my iPod to fall to the floor, yanking my headphones off and under the table. I bent down to pick them up and head back home.

"So, are you always dropping something?" A perfect voice asked from behind me. I grabbed my stuff and jerked back up.

"What can I say? You can find some pretty rad stuff on the floor," I shot back. I was only half joking. My mouth moves faster than my brain a lot of the time, and because of it, I can come off as a horrible insufferable sarcastic smart-ass.

"I bet," she laughed. I could listen to that laugh forever.

"So coffee or?" I asked. Dammit, gain control of your words, stupid.

"Would mind something a little stronger? It's been a rough day, and I could use a drink." She looked at me with her bright shining eyes. It was only then I noticed the tired look. The dead and waiting look of a college student. A college student who actually cares about school.

"No, that's cool. Whatever you want to do. Where did you want to go?" I asked. I knew a few bars around Riverwest. I may not like people, but I do like music, and there's a lot of live music in the bars of Riverwest. And I liked a drink, like anyone else. Maybe a little more. It knocked out the anxiety. I preferred to smoke weed though. No hangover. And it makes me eat. Another thing I just never really do.

[i-mean-technically]

uhhhh have 1100 words kinda about this kinda not????? i went sorta maybe overboard lmao

putting a read more bc it's Long AF

no warnings! rated E for Everyone

“Um… Sir?”

Doctor Serizawa turned at the nervous voice, ignoring the eyes watching him. “Yes?”

The intern was sweating heavily, his shirt damp and face shiny in the overhead floodlights. Serizawa thought it was a bit warm under the buzzing lamps, but that much perspiration was concerning. “S-Sir, um, why is- are we- what-”

“There is nothing to be concerned about,” he said when the poor boy couldn’t seem to find his words, staring at something far above their heads. “We are just having a visit from upper management today.”

A quickly muffled snort let him know that Vivienne Graham was paying more attention to the conversation than she was to the tablet in her hands. He gave the intern a slight smile and turned away, stepping up next to Doctor Graham to look out over the excavation site MONARCH had taken over on the northern coast of Greenland. It was turning out to be quite the prolific find, with more being discovered every day.

“The poor thing,” Doctor Graham murmured, smiling as she flicked through several different screens.

Serizawa tilted his head in agreement, amusement mixing with the deep sense of awed delight as his eyes trailed over the immense form blocking the digsite from the worst of the wind, and blocking out what little sun they had.

Gojira was truly a titan in every sense of the word, from his colossal size to the crushing weight of his fiery gaze. A single eye was as tall as Serizawa, the smallest scale twice the size of his fist. Stretched out on his stomach as Gojira was, they were encircled by the mountain that was the King.

“They will get used to it.” All the active members of MONARCH, at least those without permanent stations like himself and Doctor Graham, had started to notice a… pattern. Whenever there was any sort of mobilization large enough Gojira seemed to become very interested in what they were doing. It started shortly after the completion of Castle Bravo, their most ambitious Titan Observation Site to date, though Serizawa had heard rumors of possible others.

(The scaled titan had of course been seen in the area during the years of construction and the leaps in technology but he had never shown much interest in what they were doing, giving it as much attention as he gave an oil rig. Which was none.)

But the moment the base came to life, powered on and staffed for the first time, Gojira seemed to realize that something else was going on. When he wasn’t patrolling, or disappearing off their radar for parts unknown, Gojira could be easily found by MONARCH. Mainly by how many of their personnel they had in any given area.

At first it had been deemed a fluke, Gojira seemed highly interested in the underwater base and had spent many days swimming all around it, making subvocal rumbles and clicks that had Serizawa almost unable to contain his excitement as they began to analyze the titan in depth now that they were on his level (so to speak). He had even come up to the observation window, his face taking up the view as Serizawa watched him study them even as they did the same.

Then it happened again.

An island had been found with ancient carvings depicting various titans, some of which they already had under observation, but many they had never seen before. It sparked a massive unit to be sent, Serizawa included, to discover everything they possibly could about what would later be called a temple. A single day after making landfall Gojira’s spines could be seen cutting through the water like a jagged knife.

It had sent everyone into a panic. Gojira never attacked despite what many of Serizawa’s fellows said. He didn’t even cause the sea to wipe out the island when he made landfall. The beach was a lost cause, but that was more due to the fact that it had a titan loafing on it more than anything. Once it was seen that the titan seemed to only be lounging on the beach did they go back to work, but it was nervously, fearfully, always with one eye on the massive creature who watched them in return.

It kept happening after that, causing a joke to start circulating that Gojira was making sure that the tiny humans weren’t fucking things up, and that he had favorites. It wasn’t quite coincidence that Gojira only ever showed up at MONARCH staging sites where Serizawa was stationed.

(Serizawa personally believed that it was a mixture of boredom and loneliness that drove Gojira to seek them out. For all that many of his colleagues thought that the titan was little more than an animal there was a depth in his gaze that spoke to more. No one is meant to be alone, and Gojira had been alone for a long, long time.)

They got used to it, as much as one can get used to being stalked by a living mountain.

And now here they were, digging deeper and deeper into the partially frozen ground, unearthing more and more relics that altered what was known of human history, and watched by the god they used to worship.

Serizawa met the burning gaze of Gojira and thought it was all rather poetic.

“You know,” Doctor Graham started musingly, startling Serizawa back to the present. “This rather reminds me of the cat I had growing up.”

He looked at her curiously, finding her gaze on Gojira. “How so?”

“Well, he’s always where he’s not supposed to be,” she said dryly, turning to give Serizawa a grin. Constantly breaking things, getting into messes, always wanting attention.”

He… couldn’t really disagree with the comparison too much. Gojira was constantly breaking their observation drones even though everyone knew he could easily avoid them, being surprisingly agile in the water. And there was that one time he got a massive fishing net wrapped around his claws, leading Serizawa and a few brave others to try and carefully remove it when the titan was sleeping (he was not sleeping, but what the others didn’t know wouldn’t give them heart problems). And his current fixation on MONARCH could be explained as attention seeking.

No matter how many times Gojira showed up it always sent everyone into a flurry of activity to document as much as they could about the titan. Serizawa had noticed what could only be described as preening from him when everyone focused on the titan instead of what they were supposed to be doing.

“Catzilla,” he said quietly, and Doctor Graham choked on startled laughter.

“He even loafs like a cat,” she said between breathless giggles.

Serizawa chuckled in reply.

The worst thing that ever happens to MONARCH will be when Godzilla realizes that they're actually interesting. Like... y'all think this lizard is getting in the way now? Wait until he starts reacting to MONARCH like a giant, spoiled cat who expects them to entertain him at his leisure. Wait until any sort of mobilization results in the big honkin' son of a bitch rolling up in a tsunami on the off chance the humans do something worth seeing.

Training exercises become disasters because the newbies aren't good at keeping a low profile and it's hard to give your best performance when Godzilla is eyeballing you from half a mile away.

MONARCH won't be clandestine by choice anymore. It'll be to dodge their weird, scaly #1 Fan and his embarrassed wife.

[iwadori]

So I'm reading your works and I love them !! I was thinking of requesting some kind of drabble or whatever you like, about a female reader who has thick thighs and is somewhat plump and is in love with Tsukishima but he makes a comment about the food and she feels bad and when she meets Bokuto in the boot camp Bokuto is too cute and attentive to her asking for her number and a date. If you don't feel comfortable with this, just ignore it and good luck with your blog. Sorry my english is bad<3

When they make you insecure PT 5 (tsukishima,bokuto)

Part One Part Two  Part Three Part Four  Part Five Part 6

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

Tsukishima

You and Tsukishima have been dating in your first year (as you both went to the same middle school together.)

You were in love with Tsukishima, you always have been to be honest, but once you became officially boyfriend and girlfriend your feelings amplified.

But recently, Tsukishima hasn’t been so nice.  

“Y/N we’re going on another training camp at Nekoma” Hinata exclaimed running up to you, as you leaning against Tsukishima “and you get to come too this time!”

You recently became the new trainee manager as the third-year manager, Kikyoko, is going to graduate. Tsukishima acted as if you being around all the time in practice was the worst thing in the world, but Yamagucchi always assured you that ‘Tsukki’ was just joking.

“Oh well that’s fun...” you say entertaining Hinata’s excitement. You were kind of excited to go to the training camp too, as it was in Tokyo after all. You were always a big fan of volleyball as your dad used to play for the national team and you were planning to play on the girls team this year but you felt that you didn’t have the body for it (which was obviously not true.)

Hinata kept on rambling on before Tsukishima insulted him. “Gosh Kei, you don’t have to be so rude.” you complained, he slightly nudged you off of him and put on his headphones showing you that he was not in a good mood.

You let the rest of the practice continue, making notes of things and basically being Kiyoko’s shadow. As it ended, you waited outside for Tsukishima to walk home with you, but one of the guys told you he left 5 minutes ago. You knew there was no point of chasing after him so you just walked on your own, making you sigh in defeat.

Tsukishima was what you would describe as hot and cold. Some days he was fine a ‘perfect gentlemen’ but other days, days like this Tsukishima was just Tsukishima.  

When you got home, you decided to watch matches of all the other schools just to get some insight. You were watching a Fukarodani V Nekoma match from a few years ago and something caught your eye, well someone did to be more specific. A beefy, bicolour haired boy who was hooting like an owl was mesmerizing to watch.

You saw that his name was Bokuto Koutarou which triggered your next actions, which were to internet stalk him. You learned that he was the captain of the team and the team’s ace and the 5th ace in the country which piqued your interest in the boy even more.

‘This is going to be an exciting training camp’ you think to yourself before going to sleep.

`Kiyoko gave you an itinerary of all the things you should bring, since you weren’t going to be joining in any of the matches you were reminded to bring things that would keep entertained.  

You get to the bus at the crack of dawn, ready to be driven to Tokyo. Hinata and Kageyama were already arguing (let’s pretend that they didn’t have to do the retakes in the test) Tanaka and Nishinoya were being loud, and the rest of the members were already asleep. You wanted to sit next to Tsukishima but when you were about to sit down, he put his carryon bag in the seat next to him.

The bus ride was around 4-5 hours, and you spent your time reading and sleeping. Daichi got the loudmouths to calm down making the bus ride more tolerable. You suffered from slight motion sickness but you powered through.

When you arrived there, you saw all the other teams and their buses too. You felt a bit overwhelmed, seeing these tall boys just crowd around an entrance way. But too your surprise, noticing your slight anxiousness, Tsukishima grabbed your hand in a hand-hold.  

The Nekoma coach, explained how the day would pan out and where each team would be residing for the week. There was a lot of commotion getting everyone settled, Hinata and Nishinoya were basically bouncing off of the wall commenting on all the people and the place and how they’re going to ‘crush the competition.’  

You could tell that when the other teams were looking at Karasuno they were all staring at Kiyoko. Inquisitive about how there wasn’t only one girl manager but there was two. As you were walking your eyes locked with Bokuto Koutarou’s making yours widen, you blush and turn your head quickly.  

What you didn’t know was, after your small interaction, Bokuto elbowed Akaashi and said “Akaaashi AKKAAASHI, did ya see that? did ya?” he was flying with happiness “That girl from Karasuno smiled at me. She’s really pretty.”

“I think she’s from Karasuno” Akaashi said “So maybe you’ll see her around”

Bokuto stared off in the direction you were walking in “Yeah, hopefully.”

The first day, everyone got settled in and then the teams went straight into games. There were two different gyms and today, in gym 1, you were watching Karasuno V Nekoma. (By the way I literally don’t remember the teams at the training camp besides Nekoma, Karasuno and Fukarodani.) The game was very back a point each team making point after point, you already knew of Nekoma’s captain, Kuroo Testurou and the setter Kenma, you’ve actually played games with Kenma online before so you were fairly acquainted with him already.

The games ended and it was now dinner time, the canteen was packed with all the boys rushing to line up for the food. You waited at the back of the line, not really caring about when you got your food. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you looked over to see Boktuo,  

“Hi.” he said “I’m Bok-”

“Bokuto Koutarou!” You finished “I'm a big fan..” you cringed immediately at your excitement ‘pull it together Y/N’ you scold yourself.

“Oh well hi, I’m glad you know who I am” he said “and may I ask for your name?”  

“Oh I’m Y/N L/N” you say with a slight blush “I'm the trainee manager from Karasuno.”  

“Cool! Well I hope to see you aro-” he starts  

“Y/N, I’ve been looking all over for you, I already got your food for you.” Tsukishima said pulling at your arm a bit harshly, dragging you over to a table with the Karasuno team.

“Gosh Tsukki, no need to be so harsh” you say rubbing at your wrist, he didn’t apologize and just started eating his food.  

You look down at your plate and see the small portion that Tsukki got for you. The Karasuno bunch was being loud, as they usually are, so when you whisper “Tsukki what the fuck is this” whilst nudging him in the side, he didn’t hear you (or atleast he pretended he didn’t.) You tried again but a little louder saying, “Tsukishima what the fuck is this.” you realised you said it a bit too loud as the whole Karasuno table stopped their conversations to look over at the slight commontion you caused.

“What do you mean Y/N?” he said with a slight smirk on his face.

“I mean what’s with the portion size of a bird that you gave me?” you ask getting upset “Do you really think im that big?”

“Well, you could start eating less that’s for sure.” he said earning gasps from you and some of the people sitting at the table “Y/N let's face it, you eat like a pig and you look like an elephant, me making your food portion smaller is the least I could do.”  

By now you had tears in your eyes, Tsukishima was a dick. You knew this, everybody knew this to be honest, yet you still loved him. He wasn’t like this in middle school, yes he was a bit snarky and rude (but wasn’t every middle schooler?) High school Tsukishima was like a completely different person. As much as you wanted to run away and hide, you knew you couldn’t.  

So you stood up and said “Tsukishima, I’ve spent 3 years loving and pining after you, because I thought you were this great guy, but turns out you’re a huge asshole” you start making some of the people listening in smile in laughter “Tsukishima, I’ve hated this past year dating you, you’ve been such a huge dick and I’m finally stopping you. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.” You start making your way to exit before finally saying “Oh and by the way I’m not the pig here, you are... oh and I’m breaking up with you.” You left, hearing a few laughs and some claps behind you.

You felt relieved, like the massive cloud that’s been over your head is finally gone. You went to the gym since you knew it was empty and picked up a ball to just throw it around a bit. After a while of ‘de-stressing,’ you hear someone else enter the gym.

“Oh I didn’t know you’d be here.” said Bokuto  

“Well here I am,” you say awkwardly “I can leave if you want me too, I know this is for actual volleyball players.”

“No no it’s fine you can definitely stay, in fact do you mind setting for me?” he asks  

“Sure, of course I don’t mind” you reply, excited you get to play with someone.  You haven’t played in ages, you always begged Tsukishima to just throw a ball around with you but he never did.  

You set to Boktuo a lot, with him always asking for ‘another one’ everytime he spiked the ball. Eventually, you were tired of setting and wanted to spike. You originally was a spiker to begin with taking after your dad. Thats why you took a liking to Bokuto in the first place cause he reminded you of the joys you had when watching your father play.

Bokuto set a ball to you and you spiked it with great strength and accuracy smiling at the burning feeling you felt in your palm.  

“Woahh” Bokuto shouted going towards you in amazement “Where did you learn how to spike like that?”

“From my dad, I don’t know if you heard of him before but my dad’s name is D/N L/N...?” you say

“D/N L/N, Y/N he is my idol!” he shouted again “I want to be just like him.”

“I think you can, I see a lot of similarites in the way you both play.” you say

“Really! And you’ve seen me play before..?” he asks

“Yeah, I watched some of your games before coming here... you’re really good” you shyly admit.

“Wow.”

You and Bokuto spend the rest of your time, talking about volleyball you’re interests, things you have in common, your likes and dislikes. Talking to Bokuto was refreshing, he didn’t randomly insult you or make snide comments about your weight or your looks. He just genuinely looked happy to be there talking to you, unlike Tsukishima.  

Seeing your change in mood, Bokuto stops talking and asks “are you alright? I forgot to ask earlier, but I saw what happened in the canteen and I hope you’re okay.”  

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just things with me and Tsukishima reached a breaking point, I guess...” you say sniffling a bit talking about it “But it’s fine now I’ve broken up with him and I feel better already.”

“So you’re saying your single...?” he asked blushing a bit

“Yeah I guess I am...” you smile blushing also.  

“Okay great...well I hope this isn’t too forward after everything happened with Tsukki and all but...” he starts “but would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Who me?” you ask as if you weren’t the only other person in the room

“No the volleyball” he responds sarcastically “Of course you Y/N.”  

“Are you sure, cause to be honest Bokuto you’re a really good-looking guy” you say making him smile widely “so I think you need someone to match your level in attractiveness” you look down and his smile drops.

“What do you mean?” he asks before realising all the stuff Tsukishima said about you “Y/N you’re beautiful, your face, your body just you.” you blush at his words “when I first saw you when you were walking past us in the entrance way the first thing I thought and said about you was “Akaashi who is that girl she’s beautiful.””  

“Really?” you ask with disbelief

“Mhm” he nods excitedly “So will you go on a date with me?”  

“I guess so...” you say a bit unsure

“HEY HEY HEY!” he exclaims “I gotta go tell akaashi!” he runs out of the gym in a hurry making you laugh, but he comes back to give you a quick unexpected kiss on the cheek making you smile.

You checked your phone for the time realising that you’ve been with Bokuto for 3 hours and you knew that everyone would be going to sleep now. As you are the manager you slept seperately from the rest of the team but before you went to your sleeping quaters you went to Karasunos.  

“Y/N where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.” asked yammagucchi  

“It’s fine yams don’t worry about it, guys” you say catching everyones attention “I just wanted to apologise to you for my outburst at dinner, it wasn’t my intention to cause a scence.”

“It’s fine Y/N” said sugawara “He definitely deserved it.”

“Yeah as your marvellous senpai we gave him a good telling off” said Tanaka and Nishinoya  making you chuckle.  

“Okay well thanks guys, I’m going to sleep goodnight.”

“Wait Y/N can I speak with you.” asked Tsukishima gesturing to outside the room

“Umm sure” you respond following him into the corridor.

“I just want to say I’m sorry for the things I’ve said and done over the past year and how I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, you don’t deserve that. So, I’m sorry.”  

“I can’t say I can forgive you yet.” you say making Tsukishima look sad “but maybe with effort from you we can become friends possibly?”  

“Just friends?” he said with hope in voice thinking that you could be something more.

“Just friends.�� you repeated and confirmed “Besides I have been asked on a date”  

“With who?”  

“None of your business stingyshima” you mock the nickname that Hinata calls him making him scowl and you smile “Goodnight.”

After Bokuto’s confession and Tsukishima’s apology, the rest of the training camp went off without a hitch. In your breaks and lunchtimes, you got to know more about Bokuto and with Kuroo’s help you even got to sneak out to actually go on your date. You sometimes even went to practice with them getting to show off your skills, with Bokuto cheering you on and complimenting you every single time.  

Tsukishima kept his distance for the most part, and kept the snarky comments about you and Bokuto to himself (even though he was dying to say them.) You eventually fully forgave Tsukishima in your 3rd year but you definitely weren’t as close as you used to be. Tsukishima’s comments and actions did affect you for a while however with the help of your loving boyfriend, you were reminded how beautiful you are no matter what weight, shape or height you were.

You and Bokuto stayed together, you made sure to come to every one of his games and when you introduced him to your dad he fainted on sight. Your dad and Bokuto got along, and became very close friends, Bokuto always came to him for advice (especially volleyball advice.) You loved Bokuto and he definitely loved you too.

AN: I hope you liked it, since I didn’t want to make it too similar too the Atsumu insecure one. And I feel like it dragged out a bit but got rushed in the endd....but oh well...

[whatanoof]

A Push in the Right Direction

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, sex pollen so by default it's dubcon, pining

Summary: Healing injured patients? Psh, easy stuff. Force healing? A little more tricky. Confessing your crush to your very close friend? Damn near impossible until a flower bush shoves you in the right direction.

A/N: Happy birthday my friend @marvelassassin221b!! I hope you are staying safe, and that your birthday will bring happiness and wisdom to your life. It's been a blessing talking to you and laughing at memes together <3 Thank you for giving me the push to get this fic done and posted, I couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy some of our favorite redhead Jedi ;)

You’ve always been terrible with directions. Like, it’s a miracle you haven’t gotten lost in more dangerous settings, but even your Jedi Master used to shake their head when you had survival exercises in your Padawan years. Greez too, makes comments about how atrocious you are at navigation. You hadn’t been allowed back to the holomap since a disastrous set of directions landed the Mantis on the more unfriendly side of the Outer Rim.

But even with all of your shortcomings at mapping, you have a solid crisis mode. You need to have one as a medic. It’s not a good idea to freeze when a patient is bleeding out on the ground in front of you, there is only one way that is going to end, and it’s not going to be a happy ending. Under pressure, all of the unsureness that surfaces during your attempts at navigation vanishes, and your body is moving before your mind even consciously thinks to. It’s your zen mode, almost your place of meditation, where you give into the inner instinct and allow the Force to guide you through the process. Too bad you can’t reach that state in any situation other than emergencies, maybe you would be able to navigate your moves in confessing a crush.

You had met Cal Kestis on Bracca. He’d cut his hand open on a jagged edge of wall paneling, and Prauf brought him to you, one of the few healers among the scrappers. You couldn’t tell what exactly it was that gave him away to you, but the instant his eyes met yours, you knew where he had come from.

Of course, you waited until Prauf had gone back to work to reveal yourself. Healing through the Force decreases the chance of infection, is painless, and is essentially instantaneous. While your normal supplies would have done the trick, the drama queen in you realized this would be the perfect way to show Cal he wasn’t alone. Force healing is tricky, but you’d had a surprising knack for it ever since your youngling years. The Order had trained you up in the way of Force healing and given you the tools to take advantage of your aptitudes. Cal’s face had been priceless when you simply waved your hand over his, and the wound closed within seconds.

There was a certain comfort in knowing you weren’t alone. Admittedly, in the long years after the Purge, you’d toyed with the idea that you had been the only Jedi to escape. Those had been dark days, where you could barely scrape together the energy to forage for food and water, laughing that the Jedi Order would die with a single Padawan who had lost her lightsaber along with everything she had known.

But then Cal stumbled into your little cordoned off area. You’d become close friends from that moment to the day Prauf died and the Ninth Sister shoved you both off of the cliff and onto the freight train below. The Mantis crew was surprised, to say the least. They had gotten reports of a single Jedi wreaking havoc on Bracca. But they welcomed you aboard and you had become the team medic, patching up Cal when he got back from missions and finding time in between to try and recover the Force abilities you had lost to time.

---

“Hey.” You look up from your work. Medical supplies lie strewn across the floor of your part of the room, bandages unwound and your meager supply of medication stacked methodically in the corner.

Cal looks down at you from the doorway, a streak of something across his cheekbone. You want to wipe it off, but you just smile back, “Welcome back. Find anything cool?”

His happy grin only widens, “You’ll have to come and find out.”

“What?”

He beckons you towards the main hull, “Come on!”

Cere and Greez are already there and seated around the meal table, and BD is perched on the table, chirruping animatedly as if talking to Cere. You take your place with them, noting the empty chair to your right. Merrin is back on Dathomir, searching for ancient texts about Nightsister magic and rituals. She’s been gone for several days, but you still find yourself seeking out her snarky comments and cool confidence.

“Okay.” Cal stands at the head of the table, rubbing his hands together in a way that makes him seem as if he is playing the adult. “I’m willing to bet you're all wondering why I’ve called you here today…”

“Spit it out Cal, you woke me up from a nap for this.” Greez eyes the redhead grumpily, and you fight to hide a grin. Cere also looks mildly amused, if slightly impatient.

Cal rolls his eyes, but continues, “Cordova left a message, saying something very valuable to our quest is locked in a vault in the Zeffo caves. I found the vault today and it matches Cordova’s description, but we need two Force users to access it.” He nudges BD, and the little droid projects an image of the vault door. It’s massive, with gold decorations swirling across it, and two obvious indents in the ground on either side for said Force users.

Everyone’s gazes flit to Merrin’s empty chair. It’s without question she would have been the best fit for this mission. Her combat style complements Cal’s perfectly, and Cere is still hesitant to use the Force.

Realization strikes you, and you glance up to see everyone’s eyes are now trained on you. You begin to shake your head. “That’s a bad idea--”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll lead us directly to the vault. I have my saber, and you have your Force healing. Worst case scenario, you have to patch me up in the field.” That is definitely not the worst case scenario, but there are no other options. This mission is time-sensitive, and you can’t wait for Merrin to get back from Dathomir.

You fix him with a stern glare. “I will come. But--” You hold up a hand when Cal opens his mouth. “You have to stick with me. No disappearing and popping out to scare me, because I will get lost We go in, and we get out.“

“I wouldn--” Cal protests.

“You would.” You snap.

“Yeah, he would.” Cere agrees.

“Sounds like something you would do.” Greez nods.

BD beeps cheerily from its place in the center of the table, clearly in agreement with you.

Cal shuts his mouth with an audible pop, and you cross your arms while staring him down. Yes he would.

“I need BD back here on the ship. I’m running diagnostics on the navigation programming, and I can’t do it alone.” Cere speaks up.

Cal hesitates. You understand; he never goes on missions without BD. The two are a package deal, but everything needs to be running at peak efficiency before you go to the Fort Inquisitorius. And there’s no way you’re willing to deal with a navigation error en route.

You speak up, “Yeah, it will be fine.”

Cal looks at you, “We need BD to unlock a shortcut. What happened to in and out?”

You wave him off, “We’ll take the scenic route. Cere needs BD back here, and we can manage without. We’ll have our comm units, it will be fine.”

---

Do you know that saying, “Famous last words?”

Yeah. You hadn’t realized just how famous those last words could be. It started when Cal realized he’d left his comm unit on the ship in the charging port. But it was fine, because you had yours. Until you dropped it into a puddle after tripping over a tree root.

The scenic route involved passing through the outskirts of a forest, and the terrain was a little trickier than you had been prepared to handle, obviously. So, commless and armed with a single lightsaber and two shared brain cells, you travel towards the entrance to the Zeffo caves.

A flower bush catches your eye. Its leaves are a shocking shade of red, with gorgeous blue flowers that seem to call you over to them. Cal keeps walking even as you stop and reach for the bush. You pluck the flower in the fullest bloom and turn it over in your hand, admiring the veins of deeper azure spider webbing across the petals.

Cal says your name behind you, “We have to keep moving if we’re going to get back before dark.”

Turning to face your companion, you tuck the blossom behind his ear and step back to admire how the blue contrasts against his hair. The word slips out almost without you noticing. “Cute.”

It’s almost comical how quickly his face blooms red. “Guh--”

“It’s a good look.” You reassure him quickly. “Adorable. Pretty. Cute.”

“--Thanks!” He ducks past you to the bush. “I’m just going to grab a seedling for Greez. He’ll like this one.” Cal grabs one of the large pods and breaks it open, removing a seed and sticking it into the pouch on his harness. “Okay, ready.”

But you’re distracted by the red pollen that explodes in a cloud around his head, dusting him with a fine mist that leaves scarlet traces on his face and shoulders. “What’s that?” You step forward and run a finger across Cal’s poncho, collecting the dust and rubbing it between your fingertips. You hesitate, then raise your hand to your face to smell the substance. The sickly sweet scent and underlying current of spicy musk sticks in your lungs. The back of your throat tickles, and you sneeze.

An echoing sneeze draws your attention. Cal leans against the flowering bush, one arm clamped over his nose as he sneezes over and over again. He glances up at you, coughing with watery eyes, “Wha--”

A spike of dread pierces through you. ‘Stars, was it poison?’ He won’t stop coughing, a dry rattle as his body tries in vain to purge the intruding red dust. You fall to your knees beside him. Panic fills your mind, blotting out logic and reason and you place your hands on his body, intent on Force healing him even though you don’t know what is wrong with him. Then, just as suddenly as the coughing started, it stops and silence rings through the trees.

“Cal!”

You're shoving your hand underneath his poncho in an instant to feel for his heartbeat. You hold your breath. You can’t feel a pulse. You scramble to rip his poncho off completely, dragging it over his limp shoulders and head. You shove your fingers against his throat again. There!

His heartbeat flutters delicately, beating a rapid tattoo against your fingertips. You allow yourself to breath. He’s alive. But his pulse is fast, too fast. You rip open his tunic, though you’re not entirely certain what it is you’re searching for.

Just as your fingers brush over his skin, Cal bolts upright with a gasp. “Wh-- where...?”

You swear you almost pass out from the relief that slaps you across the face. “Stars, I thought you were dead. I’m so sorry about the flower bu-- mmm!”

Cal smashes his lips onto yours, pushing you onto your back with the sheer force of the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, searching and probing and damnit you can’t breathe when he’s this close to you, this desperate. His hips jerk against yours with an unpracticed, aborted motion, dragging a very prominent erection against your body that makes you jerk back in surprise.

You push him away from him for a second, propping yourself up on your elbows as you search his face for some indication of… you don’t know what. But this isn’t like him. “Cal, what--?”

“Need you.” He groans, his hands roaming over your body without fear or shame and inspiring a wave of pleasure as he squeezes your breasts. “Maker, you feel so good. Smell so good.” You bite back a moan. This really isn’t the time, not in the middle of an Imperial occupied forest. But to be completely honest, he feels really good too.

You’d imagined this before. Well, not these exact circumstances, but the idea of being under Cal. You’d imagined the feeling of his hands scraping over your skin and squeezing your body wherever he would like. You’d imagined his lips on yours, and other places for sure. But you’d really only ever been able to envision Cal as a gentle lover, all quiet moans and hesitant movements and unsure expressions. But this rougher side? You moan raggedly against Cal’s mouth as he shoves a thigh between your legs, rubbing up against your clothed sex. This is amazing.

Streaks of heat flash through your body, converging between your legs. Everything is amplified, the sounds around you, the grass beneath your knees, the blueness of the sky overhead. But it all seems to pale when your attention lands on Cal, who’s more flushed than earlier. You feel the heat beneath your skin too, but he’s got to have it worse right now, because you’re not the one sweating like you’re stranded on a desert planet. Maker, the pollen was some kind of--

His name escapes your lips in a tiny whisper that morphs into a moan halfway through. You allow your head to fall back, and it thunks against the spongy moss across the ground, knocking you back to the present. Cal’s lost in you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he ruts weakly against your thigh.

You shake off the haze clouding your mind, crisis mode kicking into full gear. You have no comms, one horny Jedi, and a completely hopeless sense of direction. “Cal. We have to move.”

He whines high in the back of his throat. “No.” It’s almost pleading, but there is an undercurrent of steel that makes you pause.

“Cal. We’re out in the open. Troopers co-- could--” Stars, you can feel the lust pumping under your skin, so close to the surface that it could burst out at any second. But fear hovers on the edge of your mind, pressing in and suppressing the need to jump Cal and reminding you of the certain torture and death that would occur if you were caught.

Cal doesn’t seem to have any of the same restraints as you. His fingers are carding through your hair, “Just wanna feel you. Maybe more.” His teeth latch into your neck, and the dull pain pierces through the haze more firmly.

He got dosed more heavily with the pollen. You resist the urge to curse as you gently detangle from Cal and sit up, biting back a sigh of relief as his teeth leave your skin. “We have to find shelter.” You begin to look around, but all you can see is the forest. You need something better, a place where you can figure out what exactly is wrong with Cal. You try to stand.

“Noooo…” This isn’t going to work. You actually do curse this time. How are you supposed to find effective shelter while dragging a full grown man around hostile territory without compromising stealth, all while your libido is cottoning to the edge of your mind, clouding your judgment?

“Come here…” Cal’s arm wraps around your neck, dragging you back down to the ground even as you try to stand. Okay that’s enough.

“You’ll forgive me later, Cal.” You press your thumb to his forehead and concentrate. His skin is dry and burning to your touch, and your brow scrunches. That’s going to be an issue. You reach to tap into the Force, but you pause. Your Force connection is… foggy. That’s the only way you can describe it in words, but it’s muted and dimmer than usual.

Your Jedi Master taught you a metaphor for using the Force: a barrier exists between you and access to the Force. It’s a wall, and your mind must become like a sharpened sword to pierce through and reach the Force. You can feel the barrier, just as always, but it’s like a second layer exists around it. If the normal barrier is made of thin glass, the new layer is crafted from paper; it’s strange, and thicker than usual, but still easily pierced with extra… force if you can say that without making yourself laugh at the pun. You summon the strength and press your mental sword forward through the barrier.

Rest. Cal’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls asleep with a gentle exhale. He relaxes against you, and you relax in turn when you see the pained lines smooth out of his forehead. Jedi healing includes your own personal anesthesia on demand. It will keep him under for a little bit, though you can’t tell what kind of effect the pollen will have on the Force sleep.

Through some feat of the stars themselves, you struggle to your feet. Cal’s arm is looped around your neck, and you want nothing more than to just sink down to the ground again and give into the weakness and lust pulling at your legs, coaxing you to collapse and take your pleasure. And stars, Cal’s heavier than you expected him to be.

But you shake yourself awake. Can’t get distracted. You glance at Cal’s drooping head. He’s been strong for you this entire time. The least you can do is be strong now and find some shelter. But where?

Voices filter through the trees, and your head jerks up towards the sources.

“Yeah, she told me to take the bucket off, or she would charge the full payment and…” Stormtroopers. Kriffing hell.

“Come on.” You hiss underneath your breath. You gather your legs underneath your body and push. Your muscles scream in pain, but they ultimately obey and you stumble to your feet and begin to move away from the approaching voices. Cal is dead weight over your shoulders, pulling and urging you to rest. It would be so easy to give in, to sink back to the ground and let Cal do what he wants.

The trees blur together as you move through the forest. The stormtroopers’ voices are getting louder and you grit your teeth. You don’t know their patrol route. How are you going to avoid them? All you can do is place one foot in front of the other. Then the mossy ground turns to stone underneath your feet, and you slow. Caves. Perfect.

You hurry inside, fatigued legs forgotten in your relief. There’s a bend directly beyond the mouth of the cave, and you gently lay Cal against the wall. You’re completely hidden from anyone looking from the entrance. You sit opposite him, your head falling forward to sag against your chest. Now what?

Your comm unit is busted, and Cal’s is sitting back on the Mantis, so you can’t contact the crew. You hold a hand to Cal’s forehead. His temperature is getting worse. You don’t know what infected him, so your Force healing is out of the question. The only bright spot is you’re pretty sure the stormtroopers won’t find you. They’re not exactly recruited for their brains, and you’ll be able to sense their muted Force signatures if they get close.

Speaking of…

You trail off, contemplating Cal’s unconscious face. His head sags against the rock wall and there’s a line of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His brow is finally relaxed, his breathing deep and even and it strikes you that this is the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

You reach out through the Force. It has become a habit for you, Merrin, and Cal to find peace in each others’ Force signature. Whether nightmares or difficult missions, the others would be there as a silent comfort.

Merrin’s is a mixture of whites and creams swirling against a dark maroon background. When she uses her Force magic, there is an unmistakable green tinge through it. Hers is powerful, with a sense of underlying safety in her strength. True to form, Merrin has been a protector figure in the Mantis.

But Cal’s is more diverse, a blend of warm colors against a grey background with blue tinging the edge. But while the colors are chaotic, Cal keeps a firm hold on his Force presence at all times, never allowing it to surge violently from emotion. He does not suppress it completely anymore, but you know he has the ability to make it nearly disappear from the senses of another Force user. You should know, because you can do the same. Merrin grew up without fear of having to hide her Force sensitivity, but you and Cal survived the Purge. You both have firm grasps of your thoughts and emotions projected through the Force. So in Cal, you found a kindred spirit that understands you better than almost any other person in the galaxy could. You’ve become more familiar with his presence than even your Master’s before the Purge.

But now, your brow furrows as you search for his Force presence over and over, pushing into every crevice of the surrounding environment without violating his privacy. You’re not mistaken. It’s gone, almost as if he has been turned into a droid before your eyes. Every living thing has a Force presence, no matter how minute. But Cal’s comforting whirl of light is gone, vanished as though he is no longer connected to the--

Cal’s eyes fly open and he sits forward with a quiet gasp. You jump. It’s worn off then. You secure his body with the Force, holding him loosely so as not to cause any lasting damage. You would have to tackle the Force connection problems later.

“I need you to focus.” He pushes against the bonds with a whimper, and you bite your lip as you struggle to hold him still.

“Cal!” Your Force bind tightens, and he stills with a grunt. “Talk to me. Fight through it.”

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Every-- ah! Everything. Can’t-- can’t th-think. Only thing-- makes it better… you.”

What? Your concentration lapses and the bonds loose. He lunges forward and buries his nose into your neck again, inhaling you as his hands scrabble at your clothes. “Hurts less with you. Smell so good--soft. Please?”

Stars, you can’t think straight with him touching you like this. You bite back a moan as his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your shirt. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to give in. Just for a little. Indulge, and then you can figure out a way back to the Mantis. Then Cal raises your shirt and licks a long stripe up your neck, and that’s all the convincing you need.

You melt into his mouth, your hands running under his shirt and harness. His chest is just as feverishly hot as his forehead, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he swings a leg over yours so he’s hovering over you, knees planted on either side of your body. His hands shove your shirt over your head before setting to work on the button of your pants. You raise your hips to allow him to pull your pants under your butt. Your own hands yank at his clothes, silently begging him to strip with you.

But he doesn’t. He kneels between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your wet folds.

“Cal--!” You’re cut off as he drags his tongue over your pussy, flicking against your clit at the end. Your stomach muscles contract, and it’s all you can do to keep quiet as he licks deep into your core.

---

The world is blurred. It’s like something crawled into his head and messed with his brain, dragging his focus away from more important issues… he can’t seem to remember right now. He can’t even feel the Force. His connection is compromised, the colors of the world are off, and there’s this bone deep ache within his body urging him closer to you. And as he’s drinking in your taste, the pain subsides and he can breathe again.

What is this? What’s happening to him? It has to be the pollen, it has to be its effect on his body, that’s why he’s lost all control over his mind and self. It’s why he can’t hold himself back from your body and you.

You’re all he can focus on; you’re so beautiful writhing under him as he tastes you. He’s never done this before. He can’t figure out why he hasn’t done this sooner, because you taste amazing right now and how you sound as he slides his tongue through your folds is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before.

His hips are dragging against the floor unintentionally. The friction of his dick against the rough material of his pants is a small slice of heaven, and he whimpers at the pure electricity spreading down his spine. He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but his body is shoving him towards the edge of release and the relief he knows is going to come with it.

---

A moan keens high in the back of your throat as Cal’s mouth presses against your soaked core. It’s sloppy and clumsy, but Maker if he doesn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. The only sounds coming from him are tiny moans and grunts and you shudder as his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, leveraging them apart and holding them there firmly. Of their own will, your hips roll up into his face, chasing after his touch.

You’re completely unprepared for Cal to growl when you do so. His grip tightens, and you squeak as your thighs are spread even farther apart and his mouth completely envelopes your clit.

Is this what heaven feels like? You can barely manage coherent thought when his tongue is devastating you like this, but thequestion rotates around your lust dumb brain as your toes curl and your back arches. Your release rushes up and sweeps you away, your core clenching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. You hear Cal whine as you cum, and you hear your own moans as you ride out your orgasm.

---

Stars, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The sounds that he’s pulling out of you right now could make him come in his pants on the spot, and the taste of your release has him rutting against the ground all the more insistently as he chases his own high.

But he doesn’t want to come in his pants, he wants to be inside of you. He wants you, your body squeezing tight around him, to feel the wetness seeping around his tongue rather than tasting it, even if it tastes divine.

He grabs your hips and yanks you down so your crotch is flush to his. He nearly loses his mind when your soaked core meets the bulge in his pants. Fuck, he thought he could wait, but he can’t.

But--something is still off with the world’s coloring. Where is the Force? The comforting pressure is gone from the back of his mind, the constant reminder of balance that keeps him in tune with his emotions and surroundings. Panic edges around the perimeter of his mind. In an act of desperation, he reaches for the Force, searching for the whispers of memories that accompany his world. They’re gone. Where did they go?

You whisper his name again, and this time his eyes meet yours.

---

You watch Cal carefully. He’s flushed, trembling as he hovers over your body, hands bare centimeters away from your skin. His eyes are desperate, and you can feel the pain in them as clearly as if it was your own. A bead of sweat tracks down his temple to soak into the collar of his harness, and he fumbles to rip the rest of his clothing off, discarding it on the floor as though it burned against his flesh.

“Cal.” He looks back at you. “Take what you need.”

It’s all the permission he needs. Relief and something else flashes through his eyes before he looks back down and fumbles with his pants fastening. His cock is flushed dark red, and his hands tremble as he pulls it out of his pants, jaw clenched as he lines up with your entrance. He slides into you with a bone-deep sigh of relief, and you cry out at the stretch. Every inch sparks pure electricity up your spine, and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out, and for a heart stopping moment you feel a connection to him you couldn’t describe in words. Your hips roll against his, grinding the head of his cock up against something heavenly. Light explodes behind your eyes at the movement, arching your back and curling your toes.

Cal chokes, a beautiful sound you’ve only heard a few times before; the one that sounds like its been pulled from the deepest parts of his being, like he’s just ascended to another plane above the physical. It’s gorgeous and so insanely hot you’re completely unprepared for his sudden movement when he lunges forward.

Cal’s hand shoots out and presses against your neck, effectively pinning your upper body to the hard ground. You inhale shakily through your nose, but his grip does nothing more than hold you. You can still breathe, but the pressure on your throat sends a shock of heat between your legs with the reminder of the control you just relinquished.

“Stop that.” His other arm slams onto the stone beside your head, and your eyes lock. Cal’s pupils are blown, so dark you can almost see your reflection in the dim light of the cave as he glares down at you.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he drags his hips away from yours, inch by painstaking inch and rocks back into your body with an easy roll of his hips. He exhales gently as he bottoms back out inside of you, a low moan rumbling out of his throat when he reaches that same depth within your heat.

It’s the eye of a storm; a hurricane you hadn’t known you’d entered. He rocks back and forth again, only there’s fractionally more force and speed to the motion this time. Again, and your body shakes with the force. Another, and you have to bite your lip to stifle the scream when he slams back into your body. It’s like the tide, coming in gradually, but more and more with each passing moment. The force swells, each thrust pushing into you a little harder and making your body shake a little more with each thrust.

A shuddering groan rumbles out of him as he finds the rhythm. The hand not pressed delicately around your throat slams down on the rock next to your head. When you look up towards the cave ceiling, Cal’s flushed skin and tousled hair fills your vision.

His hair, which is usually swept out of his eyes. Cal’s hair has always been so well cared for, usually brushed and slicked back so it doesn’t dangle in his eyes. Now, it’s soaked with sweat and falling into his face as he stares down at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

---

Take what you need? Holy stars, he can barely think enough to comprehend it, but some inner part of him aches at the sentence.

As soon as he realized his heart jumped every time you smiled at something, or that his brain short circuited at the sound of your laugh, he’d sworn he would keep it under wraps. He’d promised himself he would wait until after the galaxy finishes imploding and collapsing around your heads. The first time he’d jerked off to the idea of your body, he vowed to satisfy himself with his hand until it was safe. He’d wait until after the holocron is safe and there’s nothing to worry about, because relationships are messy and complicated and--

Fuck, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that promise, because how can he regret being balls deep in you while you’re whining and squirming underneath him, when you look at him with such trust even as he pins you to the floor by your throat? His eyes gravitate to the mark on your neck, red and irritated with the indent of his teeth, and he feels his cock twitch even as he continues to pound into you. He likes that.

The promise didn’t keep his eyes from wandering to your face at any opportunity. It didn’t prevent the pressure in his chest from growing over the weeks and months. It definitely didn’t keep Cere and Greez from noticing, and that was a conversation he would rather have scrubbed from his mind.

Take what you need. That one sentence is spinning his world on its metaphorical finger. Take what you need. As if he didn’t want it, but he needed to do it. In all honesty, it had really felt like he was going to die. The burning in his throat that caused the coughing fit, then the racing heart and the overheating; he thought he wasn’t going to make it unless he--

Well, unless he fucked you.

But even if he needs it, he wants it even more, had wanted it for too long. But everytime an opportunity presented itself, he pulled back. He remembers how he threw away the flowers he gathered on the mission instead of bringing them back to you on the Mantis. He remembers every time he denied spending time with you, because his emotions were too raw and close to the surface, and he couldn’t predict his control over his own tongue. Because he didn’t think he could have handled it if you didn’t want him back.

But you had offered to help. Maybe you’d wanted it too, because the whole galaxy could be shoving you in one direction and you would defy it. Nothing can make you do anything you didn’t want to, and that applies to Cal Kestis too.

---

Your orgasm swells up sharp and sudden, gripping you in its claws and shoving you into the attack of muscle spasms and searing pleasure that punches into your abdomen. Your body arches, accidentally hitting your head against the ground.

Cal’s rhythm stutters and his hips jerk forward. His hand leaves your throat as he drops to his forearms. His head drops down to press against yours gently, even as he whimpers and continues to grind forward into your soaking heat.

“Fuck.” Cal gasps, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.”

There’s no time to respond before he’s drawing up and tensing against you. His hips piston in and out once, then he’s cumming and all you can do is lie there and take it. Fuck that’s hot.

You can feel him spilling into you, every warm spurt of cum and every twitch of his cock as he spends himself. Even better is the drawn out groan that trails into his upper register, ending in a tiny whimper. The tension drains out of his face and he sags down, sweaty skin pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your body and he hoists your limp body up as he rolls over. He sits against the wall of the cave, seating you on his lap, cock still firmly buried inside you.

You allow your head to sag back against his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to yours. His hand paws weakly at the fabric of your shirt, and you raise your arms to slide it off. It’s better like this, skin to skin contact seems to calm him down. He buries his nose into your bare neck and mumbles something you can’t make out.

You nudge your head against his gently, “Hm?”

“Thank you.” His lips ghost over the delicate juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Thank you thank you thank you...” He continues to mutter the phrase into your skin, tickling your skin as he nuzzles closer to you.

You should say something. Confess, maybe, everything you’ve been hiding. “Cal, I--” You shift slightly, and something feels off. You furrow your brow and glance downwards at your joining point, “Cal are you still hard?”

He props his chin on your shoulder. “Uh--” He thrusts shallowly up into you, and you stifle a whimper. “Ye-yeah. Sorry?”

“N--” You gasp as his cock twitches. “No. Don’t be sorry. Do you need to go again?” Arousal stirs in your core again, burning a slow path through your nerves and reigniting the flames that had dulled to embers. Your breath catches in your chest and you grind your hips back into his.

“I--I think so.” His voice is strained and his breath comes in short gasps next to your ear. “Not-- not as-- as bad though.”

“That--ah!” Cal chooses that exact moment to pick a spot on your neck and latch on. He nips at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands, roughened with callouses from his saber, climbing, and tinkering, scrape over your skin with just the right amount of friction. You bite your bottom lip. “That’s fine. Should I move?”

His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place. That’s a no then. His hips rock up into yours gently, and you feel your cheeks warm at the wet sounds of your combined release. Cal grunts, “Let me.”

So you do. You lie back against his bare chest and just take what he gives you, whimpering whenever he brushes against that spot inside you that sends electricity up your spine. You’re gripping his arms so hard you’re sure he’s going to have bruises in the shape of your fingers.

---

Stars, you’re fucking perfect. Just lying here and giving yourself to him. He can feel the Force dimly, but it’s there. The pollen is leaving his system as he slowly fucks you on a cave floor in the middle of a dense forest while stormtroopers patrol outside.

You cry out with his next thrust, the head of his cock striking something inside of you that must feel good because you clench around him and--

Did you just come again?

The additional lubrication only increases the lewd squelch with every thrust, the mixture of his cum and yours only making sliding in and out of your channel easier. He can still feel the effects of the pollen at the back of his mind, and it keeps him hard and sensitive as he continues to fuck you.

He’s aware he should be at least a little worried about the implications, starting at the top with how he’s going to complete the mission and ending with what exactly fucking on a cave floor means for your relationship. Somewhere in the middle is the stormtroopers and the pollen, and the oath of the Jedi Order forbidding relationships. But he can’t grasp it.

Even if there are more pressing concerns, all he can do right now is continue pushing his hips up into your soaking core painstakingly slowly. He wants to enjoy this while he can, while he’s able to fool himself that you want him back. Unless…

---

The only solace you could find in the situation was that you could have Cal, even for these few short moments. Because as much as you may want to convince yourself, a tiny voice inside your head keeps whispering: it’s all the pollen. That’s the only reason why he wants you. And you force yourself to believe the voice, because it’s easier to block off any chance for pain and rejection.

But you know you’re in trouble the second Cal opens his mouth. The words are a harsh whisper, rasping out of his dry throat into your ear, “Beautiful. So gorgeous, giving me what I need, what I want.”

You arch against him and stifle the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His mouth is right next to your ear, so there isn’t anywhere for you to escape from the words that rumble into your brain; words you try to convince yourself are empty. You shove your hand against your mouth rather than allow any sound to escape.

He moans, “Want to do this again. Don’t want this to be just once.”

“Th--that--that’s the pollen talking.” You gasp when you feel his fingers graze over your clit, your own hand drifting back to latch into his hair.

Cal hisses when you tug with a little more strength than necessary, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. One hand supports your weight as he moves you up and down on his dick, the other rubbing little circles around your clit. His hips make up for the lost strength everytime they drive up into you at the lowest point of the rhythm, squelching with every thrust.

“Not--not the pollen. All you. All me.”

You blink, all temporarily forgotten when the words register in your hazy mind. “...What?”

“Wanted this. Wanted this for a while.” Cal finds your clit with his fingers, and you can’t prevent the way your legs jerk and your body seizes against his.

Fuck you’re going to cum. If the first orgasm was a flashfire, this one is a slowly simmering blaze. It creeps up slowly, burning a hole through your abdomen, curling around your ribs and inching down your legs. Your eyes roll back, and your head falls back against Cal’s shoulder.

“Cal. I--I thi--” You try to warn him, you really do. But words aren’t forming correctly right now, and it’s all you can do to hunker down and try to prepare yourself for this truly devastating crest that’s preparing to launch you over the edge.

If Cal gets your warning, he doesn’t show it. All he does is turn his head to the side, press a light kiss to your cheek, and groan, “I think I love you.”

Oh shit. Cal’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he planned it. Before you can respond, hell, before you can even begin to fucking process that last sentence, you’re coming hard. Maybe it’s the whiff of pollen you got earlier, or the fact that Cal is the one fucking you so sweetly and thoroughly, or the thrill of being mere steps away from discovery, or a combination of all of it, but this orgasm certainly feels like the most intense of your life.

Spasms ripple outward through your belly, curling you up in Cal’s lap as you ride out your high. Your legs straighten and your toes curl and you clamp down hard around Cal’s cock.

Cal shouts raggedly in your ear, pulling your body close. But even as you whimper and shake on the end of his cock, you remember that you can’t make too much sound.

As if he heard you, Cal burrows his face into your shoulder, his teeth once again finding a place in your skin to muffle his voice as he cums deep inside you once more. His body shakes as he spends himself again, the spasms slowly subsiding with every jerk of his hips into yours.

‘I did hear you.’ There’s a tinge of amusement to the nonexistent voice that echoes in your mind, and you relax back against Cal.

‘Feeling better?’ You nudge him back through the Force, revelling in the feeling of his colorful presence swirling around you once again. The pollen has worn off.

He doesn’t say anything in response, only pulls you close with his arms around you. His mind pushes at yours, and you let him in. You’ve done this a million times, usually on the tail end of nighttime panic attacks, but this time is different. This is the most loose he has ever been with his Force presence, and you allow it to fill the empty parts of your mind. Wait, he loves you?

He rushes over you in the same way the tide comes back to land, calming your fear at finally understanding the weight of his last confession. He’s relaxed, and the familiar energy has a new angle to it, a new emotion you hadn’t felt before in another’s Force signature. You grasp it gently, turning it over and admiring it in the eye of your mind. What is it?

The answer rushes to you just as Cal mutters against your skin, “Love.” The same thing you’d been feeling in the pit of your heart every time you looked at Cal, everytime he kept you safe from the nightmares in his arms and stayed with you until morning, every time you made him tea and did maintenance on his gear after a tough mission.

“I love you.”

You blink up at the ceiling of the rock cave, mouth open with the words just on the tip of your tongue. But they won’t come. The words are stuck in your throat, and try as you might, you can’t make yourself say them.

“Hey.” Cal whispers in your ear, and you shut your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. But you know that I do, and I know a little of what’s going on up here.” His finger taps the side of your head lightly. "You don't have to figure out where to go from here. I'll navigate."

‘Thank you.’ You send the words through the Force, and he acknowledges them. Yeah, you're shit at knowing where to go when it comes to feelings. But at least with Cal, you won't have to worry about getting lost alone. You sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before a thought occurs to you.

“Cal.” His name is little more than a weak rasp off your tongue. You clear your throat and try again. “Cal.”

He grunts unintelligibly.

“Don’t bring that seed back to the Mantis.”

A/N: I will be the first to admit that this fic was hard, because I wanted to incorporate some previous feelings into this to make it less dubcon, and I didn't feel that all plot holes were filled. But that didn't make this any less enjoyable for me, and it was fun to explore a new facet of Cal's character.

Thanks for everyone who gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pushing this through the old brain up here. Smut isn't the easiest for me:)

Taglist: @alliterative-albatross

[infimace-blog]

I'll agree that increasing the death count wouldn't help Magic's story. I think the Mending and the end of the Weatherlight Saga used the death toll well, but that was because those were the ends of eras and the deaths were to allow new characters to come to the forefront, and modern Magic has no interest in leaving the era it's currently in. I'm also glad that Nissa and Ajani are okay because I like Ajani and, while I wasn't involved in Magic when Nissa/Chandra started being a thing, I appreciate that the worst bit of Forsaken was walked back.

But the Phyrexian Saga did have a massive problem with stakes in that they were never entirely clear. The glistening oil would be extremely effective at one part but conditional and resistible, making it unclear how dangerous the situation is when the oil shows up. The stakes of ONE's story revolve entirely around whether the strike team can get to the core to set off the Sylex. Little to no time is spent establishing the potential risks if the multiverse is breached before they reach the core, or the team's feelings about setting off a nuke that'll wipe out the Mirran resistance along with the Phyrexians, which is a problem when the stakes of the final bit revolve around the ethics and danger of setting off a nuke under those conditions. The New Phyrexians are cunning enough to crush much of Dominaria, a plane that knew they were coming and had several people who'd already fought them first, but other planes are able to stall the invasion significantly and kill or defeat every single planeswalker or angel in charge of the local invasion (which makes sense given the differences between Elesh and Sheoldred's strategy but the story doesn't focus on the fact that invading the entire multiverse with only a plane's worth of soldier is A Bad Idea). A good action-focused story has to take some time to establish some facts and themes so the action scenes can build off of them.

I think that's why a lot of people got upset about the ending, because the stakes, as established, relied on compleation being irreversible. The storyline treated compleation as synonymous with death. No one on Dominaria tried to take Aron alive. No one tried to knock out Tamiyo or Lukka (though nobody really wanted to save Lukka). The only person who managed to undo compleation before the end was Squee, and he had to die to make that work. If you get subsumed into New Phyrexia, there's no more hope for you and the best thing to do is take you out of your misery. I don't like that sentence but that's what most of the New Phyrexia storyline is saying.

And they didn't need to take this route. Old Phyrexian compleation was semi-reversible because the oil was just one part of a more elaborate process. Tahngarth was rescued before anything happened to his mind but after he got the physical modifications, and that became part of his character, cursing Phyrexia for taking his natural body away from him. Volrath got his prosthetics revoked when he was dethroned as Evincar. Urza was brainwashed by the majesty of Old Phyrexia near the end and he managed to shake it off in time for the finale. If they built the storyline around reversing compleation being theoretically possible from the get go, then the stakes would be established as 'who'll be able to keep their Phyrexianized loved ones intact long enough to get them cured? will they actually be able to make a cure? what if they're too far gone for the cure to work? what if they're standing in the way of what you need to make the cure work?'. Build the tension around whether Chandra can still save her ex-girlfriend (instead of around whether she can avenge her ex-girlfriend) and it becomes oh so satisfying when she finally does.

It’s been six months already, but I’m still annoyed at how many people dogpiled on the March of the Machine story because Nissa and Ajani being cured of their phyresis apparently, somehow, meant that the entire saga had no stakes. It’s such a stupid hill to die on: “I won’t be happy with the sci-fi war story in my CHILDREN’S CARD GAME unless it ends in a mountain of named characters’ corpses.” 

Ending such a dark, oppressive story with a small glimmer of hope was a beautiful way to wrap up the Phyrexian arc, and it opened up the doors for more interesting stories to be told down the road. With Nissa and Ajani specifically, both are genuinely good, kind people who now have to live with the unbearable trauma that they were the Phyrexians’ most powerful, blunt tools in the terror they unleashed on myriad worlds upon millions of people; and furthermore, the two of them also have to live with the memories of the things they were thinking and feeling and seeing and doing at the time. Isn’t that a more interesting way to explore the consequences of this (fantasy) war than simply an endless pile of dead characters? 

As a librarian by trade with two (too many) English degrees, I want Magic story to be good like the rest, but I’m not expecting Macbeth out of it; I don’t want Magic Story to be Macbeth because I love Magic Story for what it is: fun, snappy, campy, sometimes inconsistent, but always full of characters I love going on adventures to interesting places with their friends, lovers, and allies… 

I’d rather not end a story with most of them dead to satisfy some misguided attempt to transform serialized Magic the Gathering web fiction into some kind of gritty Pulitzer-Prize winning literary masterpiece.

[ssadumba55]

Damsel In Distress (Velma Dinkley X Reader)

Request: how about something with Velma where the gang is investigating some odd happenings at an abandoned amusement park? everyone splits into pairs to explore and she and the reader are paired together, and they eventually end up with the culprit chasing them and reader gets really protective of her. the gang catches the guy but Velma asks why reader was being so defensive, and reader accidentally blurts out that they love her and don't know what they'd do if anything ever happened to her. thanks! :)

“Alright, everyone! Let’s split up and look for clues!”

There was a loud groan from Shaggy and Scooby as the blond male said his signature line. Most of the group didn’t mind being split up, but the two ‘fraidy cats almost always ended up with the monster chasing them. Splitting up was the worst part of investigating mysteries for them by far.

“Don’t worry guys, the sooner the monster chases you, the sooner we can get out of this creepy place,” you grinned, hands on your hips. There was nothing like a good mystery for you and ever since you’d run into the gang, they’d become more frequent. Something that Shaggy and Scooby also liked to complain about.

Shaggy crossed his arms over his chest in a show of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else as Fred began splitting the six of you into teams.

“I’ll go with Daphne to check out that creepy coaster Scooby thought he saw something earlier, Velma, (Y/n), why don’t you two head over there?” Fred jerked his thumb in the direction of the other side of the abandoned amusement park. There weren’t many structures still standing in that part of the park, but there was an antique carousel that had you intrigued.

There was something about carousels you loved, and even better, this was a mysterious carousel!

“Like perfect! Scoob and I will check out the abandoned restaurant!” Shaggy volunteered himself. If there was one thing that could get the two reluctant members moving, it was food. Even possibly stale food.

The group split up into the three teams, each wandering off in their own direction. Even though the lot of you knew this would only last for a short while, until Shaggy and Scooby were inevitably chased out of their food comas by some monster.

“You think those kids really saw a monster out here?” You asked Velma, climbing onto the abandoned carousel and moving through the horses with practiced ease. Something about the carousel made you nostalgic, even though you hadn’t really rode them much as a kid. Maybe it was the amusement park as a whole that was making you nostalgic.

You went to plenty of those as a kid.

Velma adjusted her glasses, looking up from her laptop screen with an indignant snort. “You and I both know that monsters don’t exist, (Y/n).”

You shrugged. She was right. In all the time you’d been mystery hunting together, not one had turned out to be a real monster. It was always just some weirdo in a costume. You supposed in a way that was a cruel irony, humans were after all the biggest monsters out there.

Velma went back to studying her laptop screen, she carried that thing everywhere. Even, apparently, abandoned amusement parks. You took the time while she was distracted to study her.

A lot of people would argue that she wasn’t really attractive, but you begged to differ. Sure, she didn’t dress up like Daphne or put on loads of makeup, but the brunette was charming in her own way. She was the smartest in the gang, even smarter than you. You had always loved the way her eyes lit up when she was onto something, how excited she got when she realized she’d solved the mystery.

She was usually the first one too, because she was so smart.

Yeah, okay. So maybe, just maybe you had a crush on Velma Dinkley, but what’s so bad about that? She’s attractive! Her hair is really nice and her eyes shine so bright behind those glasses and the freckles…

“(Y/n)? Are you listening to me?” Her voice shocked you back to reality. Oh god, had she been telling you important information pertaining to the case? And had you missed it because you were too busy thinking about her freckles?

You opened your mouth to respond, already trying to form an excuse for why you hadn’t been paying attention when a massive shadow formed behind Velma. It was huge, twice or maybe even three times the size of you both, with glowing red eyes and long snaking arms that were reaching….

Reaching for Velma!

There was no hesitation from you, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you, just out of reach of the monster. The long limbs collided grasping onto nothing but thin air, as for Velma she was startled and dropped her laptop. She made a move to go back and grab it but you pulled on her hand, leading her away from the monster.

“No time! We can circle back and grab it later!” You called over your shoulder, eager to put distance between you and Velma and whatever that thing was. Admittedly, you felt foolish as you ran from the exact thing you’d all been searching for since you’d got here. You’d never taken yourself for a runner, which was a good thing because Shaggy and Scooby pretty much cornered the market for that in the small group dynamic you all shared.

Still, here you were running. It was so out of character you almost wanted to turn around and go back. But you needed to keep Velma safe, that was the top priority.

The yells and screams you and your friend were making as you ran must’ve alerted the rest of the group. Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby came running (of course, once they saw the monster, Shaggy and Scooby quickly joined you).

There was a lot of panicked screaming and yelling, at one point Velma and Shaggy ran smack into each other, causing her glasses to fall. She immediately went down for them, bringing you down with her because your hands were still intertwined. You grabbed her glasses and she gratefully put them back on, the two of you laying breathless on the ground as the sounds of Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne and Fred’s panicked voices filled the air around you.

It was unspoken that neither of you wanted to move. So you just waited until the yelling stopped, then the two of you climbed to your feet and walked over to where Fred had successfully managed to catch the monster.

“Like, what’s with the hands? You guys aren’t still scared of the monster are you? Fred’s got it all tied up!” Shaggy pointed to you and Velma’s joined fingers. Immediately, the two of you flushed and separated.

In order to distract the group from the awkwardness, Velma stepped forward and unmasked the culprit. Who turned out to be the two kids who had told you guys about the amusement park. They explained their plan to the group, but you were barely paying attention.

“We would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for your meddling!” The taller boy huffed after realizing they’d been caught and would be in a lot of trouble for this.

The gang made their way back to the Mystery Machine. Another successful mystery in the bag, Shaggy and Scooby are furthest ahead, ready to get back to their precious Scooby Snacks. Not far behind them, Daphne and Fred walk, laughing to each other about something you can’t hear.

You and Velma bring up the far rear, walking a ways behind everyone else.

“Were you doing that on purpose?” She asked as the two of you walked, finally breaking the slightly tense silence between the two of you. It had settled there after Shaggy had pointed out your hands and hadn’t left the entire time.

You were slightly confused about what she was talking about, then realized. “Oh! The hands- no. I’m sorry, I forgot we were-”

“Not that, (Y/n). You were purposely shielding me from the monster back there,” as the two of you walked by the carousel, she bent down to pick up and dust off her laptop that had been laying there forgotten the entire time, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle my own out here, I’ve been doing this a long time, you know.”

You were taken aback by her words. Of course you knew Velma could handle her own, that was one of the reasons you liked her so much. She was the smartest person in the room and she knew it, there was nothing that could get past her. She was also the toughest, not tough in the way Fred was but she was definitely her own kind of tough.

“I know that, I didn’t mean anything by it… I-”

“You don’t take me seriously.” She put the words in your mouth and you felt your face heat up, that was not what you had meant at all!

“Velma, no, I-”

“Then why don’t you do the same thing for Daphne. Or Fred. Or Shaggy.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was sure she had you figured out, so sure she had gotten to the bottom of this mystery. You almost wanted to agree with her just so you could see that light shine in her eyes as she pulled you back to the van to tell everyone else. Then they’d all never let you live it down.

As you were thinking this through, she took it as an opportunity to keep on rambling. You were tired, it had been a long night. It’d surely be an even longer night, because you probably wouldn’t be stopping again any time soon and Shaggy and Scooby would be hyped up on Scooby Snacks-

“I LOVE YOU, VELMA DINKLEY!”

You cut her rambling off, the words echoing through the abandoned amusement park. Up ahead, Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby froze, turning back to look at the two of you.

For once, Velma was speechless, so you decided to continue.

“And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to you. I know we just met less than a year ago and I know that mystery hunting isn’t a very romantic setting, but despite that I fell in love with you. You’re right, it’s different when Shaggy is being chased by the monster, because I don’t love him. If something happened to you, my world would shatter, it would be MY fault. If something happens to Shaggy that’s just another day out mystery hunting.”

Tears were burning your eyes, threatening to fall. There she had made you say it. She had made you say it all.

You didn’t even realize your hands were balled into fists at your sides until something nudged one of them and you realized Scooby had made his way back to the two of you. He’d seen you distressed and was offering his comfort. You placed your hand on his head to let him know you were okay.

“I had no idea,” the girl dressed in orange said softly from across you.

The amusement park was dead silent. Not even the other members of the team dared to speak and risk another outburst.

After a few tense moments, where everything you’d said hung weightily in the silence, Velma reached out her hand and took the empty hand of yours that wasn’t occupied with petting Scooby. She smiled softly, squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry you thought that I thought you were a damsel in distress,” you smiled awkwardly as the two of you walked to join the rest of the gang, Scooby at your side.

“I’m sorry I thought you thought I was a damsel in distress,” she smiled guiltily, “I should’ve had more faith in you.”

As the two of you approached the other three, Daphne rolled her eyes.

“Will you two just kiss and make up already, we need to get back on the road or we’re going to miss that show Fred got us tickets to!”

“We can’t miss that! Like, I hear the food there is out of this world!”

“Reah, rout rof rhis rorld!”

You felt your face heat up, looking over at Velma. She shrugged and leaned over. Inches from your face, she stopped leaning forward quickly and pecking your cheek before bolting the rest of the distance to the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne climbed in the front as you pushed Shaggy out of the way to follow Velma in.

“Hey! That wasn’t a real kiss! You owe me another one!”

“(Y/n), we’re dating you can have as many as you want.”

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]