#and I begin to crush them with chlorine

[halogens-vs-shinonomes]

I thought it was the other kind of halogen lol

Huh. I wonder if I can make a halogen out of halogens.

[mamayan]

Yaannnn!! Congrats on your milestone! ʕ⇀ᴥ↼ʔ♡ This event is so cool!! It’s creative, I really like it kekeke

My prompts are 9, 67, 92, 99 for Nanami Kento please?? ( x fem!reader)

Thank yoouu ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Finally! Haha! Bang! You’ve been shot!

Nanami Kento

tw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Kidnapping/Imprisonment • Implied Forced Relationship • Dark Themes • Fem! Reader • Dubcon • Fingering (F) • Sex (M)(F) • Yandere • Punishment

wc: 1960

He sometimes wished it could be different.

The air is frozen as he walks farther into the room, the scent of chlorine overpowering and burning his nose as he clicks his tongue and moves towards the back wall. Hundreds of stainless steel metal doors rest closed, numbered placards to the right of each one. Most are blank, but a few towards the right hand side have a few code words scribbled in messy writing on them. Nanami strides towards one such door, your name standing out due to the pristine hand writing on the card.

He takes his time removing his jacket and tie, rolling up his sleeves before his glasses and wrist watch follow onto the table off to the side. The latch to the door clicks, audibly signaling it’s opening as cool air rushes out. He grips the handle that greets him as he opens it, pulling out the table hooked to a rolling system which allows it to be removed from the wall.

He really did wish it could be different. His stoic face almost bored as he gazes down at you, your body curled and shaking on its side while you whimper brokenly like a scratched record.

You flinch when a drastically different temperature touches you, his body heat almost burning against your chilled flesh as you cry out.

“Shh…” he hushes, voice low and soft as he gently helps you sit up, pulling your trembling figure into his arms as he slides one around your torso and the other under your thighs to lift you up into the air against him. “Good girl, I’ve got you now.” He recognizes the irony of his words, no doubt irritated he uttered them to begin with but… he can’t deny how good it feels to have you clinging to him like a life line at the moment.

He knows it won’t last. He’s not optimistic this alone is enough to crush your spirit in the slightest, though it truly is a grim punishment in its own uniquely sick way.

“Na-Nanami,” you croak his name in a voice clearly hoarse from screaming.

He hadn’t left you long enough for any permanent damage to set in, but you were certainly becoming feverish as he warms you with his body heat now.

He chose a plain metal folding chair to sit, positioning you to straddle his lap while he helped you lean against his chest. His large calloused hands card through your stiff locks, the cold having hardened the strands.

“—m’sorry…” he hates how it affects him, the little sniffle and your painful tone while you apologize. He wishes it were different, and it could be when you stopped being so stubborn. He’s silent as he rubs your back. The exposed skin darkened in some areas, chilled more than the rest, cold burns could hurt just as badly as those caused by heat. He was even more gentle as his fingers traced over those spots, already noting the supplies he’d need to to use to help you heal properly.

Your tears seemed to melt with the frost on your body as you sobbed, numb arms moving to curl around his thick neck where he radiated heat. Your face pressed into the crook of his neck, and he leaned down further to hold you close to him while you cried. He didn’t say a word, only lightly patted your head and listened.

“—sorry ‘Nami, please, don’t please, m’sorry, hck,” it broke his heart to hear you cry like so, made him feel sicker than he knew he already was as he placed sweet kisses to your temple while you soaked up the warmth his body offered. The only warmth he was offering to you.

When you began to feel your extremities again, able to shift and wiggle without feeling like a mummy encased in wrappings, you clawed at him. Arms too weak to actually drag him down, but he obliged when you tugged and allowed you to connect your cool lips with his own. His eyes narrow, hating how the tears on your face and the desperation in your gaze made his slacks tighter. You should be smiling and teasing him, whispering naughty words in his ear after he grumbles about his shit day at work.

That’s all he ever wanted truly.

Instead your actions are fueled by something primal and gut wrenching, a display of submission and asking of mercy he doesn’t stop. He lets you slip your tongue in his mouth, groaning and helping your eager little hand pawing at his belt buckle, lifting you into his arms so he could shift and drop his pants while still keeping your mouths connected. He keeps you pressed close, aware the chill still affects you and happy to grab his jacket and bring it over your shoulders while you tremble and pop the buttons of his dress shirt open. He sighs into the kiss, turning your eager desperation into a slow burn to warm you up and silently show the affection he wants to shower you in. He sucks on your small tongue, taking control as he settles your exposed cunt against his throbbing cock, the heat from it nestled against your folds while your hips twitch. He doesn’t move yet, just kisses you languidly while you sigh, taunt muscles slowly but surely relaxing as drowsiness sets in as the adrenaline and fear fade. He lets his hands move, careful for the areas tender from the chill, moving over your skin and heating you a little more as he squeezes and rubs you. It’s difficult not to like it, the way he smells and the warm muscular body you rest against weakly. Your mind is too fuzzy and clouded to fight or even want to as he slips both hands onto the globes of your ass, massaging gently and moving down to your thighs and copying. Eventually his fingers creep closer, mouth moving sensually against your own and invading your mind with lust and the promise of warmth and pleasure. He’s spreading your pussy open without resistance, feeling the front pressed against him while he runs two fingers down the back where your hole leaks pitifully.

“Such a good girl…” he murmurs against your lips, chuckling when you chase his own as he pulls back, “Getting wet just for me.” He resumes the kiss as you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug, his groan deep and reverberating into your mouth. He pressed one finger inside of you, swallowing your gasp of pleasure as he wiggles the digit deep and then joins it with another as he fills you.

Your back arches, bare chest pressing further into his own as he slicks his fingers with your growing arousal and fucks you with them, calculating each thrust with just the right depth and strength to have you mewling for him.

Nanami breaks the kiss to trail his lips lower, down your jaw to your neck where he sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth. Your breathy moans are music to his ears as the capillaries easily burst under his tender nibbles, marking you up as he curls his fingers and makes you sing.

“‘Nami, m’gonna cum—,” he knew even if you didn’t say it, but it makes him proud you remembered he likes it when you tell him.

“Cum for me sweet girl,” he whispers, groaning when you clench tight around his fingers and gush, making a mess in his lap as you sigh and wiggle your hips, fingers digging into his chest while he works you down from your high softly.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, your pussy eager to hold onto him still as brings the sticky coating on his fingers up to his mouth to clean noisily while you watch.

You always looked so adorable after an orgasm, watery eyes half lidded and face slacken.

“You did so good, baby, I’m very proud of you.” You shiver at his words, pupils dilating and it makes something dark inside him swell with pleasure. He’s cleaning his fingers and then kissing you, forcing the taste of your cum into your mouth now as he circles your hips with one arm. Nanami easily lifts you up, using his free hand to position the fat mushroom tip of his cock at your entrance and then allowing gravity to do the work.

You don’t have enough strength to lift up and off him, too weak to stop each thick inch from breaching your walls as you choke and gasp into his mouth.

He relishes the way you grip him, the intimacy and closeness of having you pressed so tightly against him. Nanami grunts as he bottoms out, as deep inside your pretty cunt as possible, while you whine and cutely nip at his bottom lip.

“That’s it sweet girl,” his hips jerk up, bouncing you as he nudges up against your cervix, “you took every inch.”

It’s slow, Nanami leaves you to breathe and merely hold onto him while he lifts your ass and fucks you. His mouth filthy as he kisses you and groans your name, heating your body inside out as he pushes his cock in and out you, dragging the girthy rod against your sensitive walls.

“We could’ve avoided all this you know,” he mumbles darkly, teeth skimming your ear as you gasp and moan, “I could’ve been running you a bath already after I made you cum until you saw stars, but you wanted to be a brat today.” He hisses it into your ear, uncaring as tears well and spill down your cheeks again, your little moans and sniffles not affecting your tight pussy wrapped around him.

His grip is firm as he snakes his free hand around your neck, grip loose so you could breathe unhindered as he tilts your head up to look him in the eye.

The submission in your gaze is addictive, but he knows it won’t last for very long.

“If you pull another stunt like that,” he jerks you down onto his cock roughly, amused how you scramble and try to sit up from the intense pressure he placed inside you, “I’ll lock you in here for a week.” The threat snaps something inside you, clear as day to him your dislike for this space as you shake your head and murmur pleas while he bounces you on him. His pace not slowing as you cup his cheeks and promise to be good, “‘Nami I won’t again, be so good for you, I promise.” Your watery eyes and hips which struggle to gather the strength to meet his own are so precious it has his balls drawing tight, lips pressing together as he grips you tight and fucks you harder. He drinks in the moans you release and promises to him, feeling how your walls clench and pull him in deeper.

“M’coming ‘Nami, fuck, please,” you’re so desperate and needy like this he wishes you’d just stay this way forever, clawing at his shoulders and crying his name.

“Take it all baby,” he grunts, cock twitching and filling your cunt seconds later as you come apart around him.

He holds you close as you both come down, keeping your trembling body lifted against him to avoid your thigh muscles from straining too much.

You’re asleep a minute later, eyes closed and mouth lax as you pass out.

Nanami gently stands and begins cleaning up, keeping you in his arms the entire time as he fixes you both up enough to leave and return home.

He doesn’t believe this will be your last escape attempt nor trip to the morgue, he’s not optimistic like that unfortunately. He wishes this could be different though.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

@desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

[yeyinde]

⭐️⭐️⭐️SOO we’ve talked about fever in a shockwave already but I’m here to ask you to ramble about anything you want for those fics, especially if it’s something no one has pointed out yet. Pretty please?⭐️⭐️⭐️

I have a lot of Thoughts about this series!! I don't even know where to begin, actually 😅

I invested a lot of time in shaping the narrative, and leaving behind breadcrumbs of their relationship and the eventual fallout.

Part one was mainly about establishing the baseline for everything else. I wanted to pick up a year-ish after the ending of series two when Bear made all those promises to Lena, and lost everything. If this was from his perspective, we'd get a lot more detail about what happened, but I wanted to show the events through MC's perspective since we already know what happened.

It also connects quite heavily in the second part when everything that was alluded to (four walls, a roof; her father; cheating, etc) came to light.

They're two broken people but in very different stages of healing, and neither can really help the other in the position they're in. MC realises this at the end of part two when she comes out and finds that nothing has changed. Despite them "getting together," Bear still drinks.

The ending is actually quite heavily foreshadowed in the series! These narrative threads knot everything together, and are used to convey different aspects of what's happening and the inevitable fallout.

The first one is Bear using MC as a crutch to come. The biggest aspect of this is:

It feels like the culmination of everything. The little touches, fleeting glances. All of it leads to this moment where he presses his mouth to your skin like he's been starved for it, and drinks you down like ambrosia found in the glass that once littered the countertop around him. 

MC is an unwitting substitute for Bear's struggle to cope with what happened to him. He never tries to get better. Throughout the entirety of part one and two, we see him pushing people away (Buddha, Caulder, the priest). MC picks up on this, and we see her adjust the way she speaks to Bear.

Sometimes, you say something stupid, like shouldn't you be training or something instead of giving yourself cirrhosis? and you can see him shut down. Retreat. His shoulders unfurl, spine straightened, and his eyes harden. A veil of moondust white plumes between you, dislodged when the crater forms. 

A visit later, two. Then, when you pluck up the courage to talk to him again, he eases into it with slurred words, and a little drunk grin twisting on his lips at the dumb (safe) things you say. 

She does this as it bleeds into the second part of the narrative throughline: self-sabotage.

Both of them are struggling with grief, but in different ways. Bear is using her as a coping mechanism, and she's using his refusal to get better as one, too. After all, there is no potential for hurt in something that will never last, and we see this idea of a broken relationship come up with allusions to her past (cheating father who always made promises he couldn't keep; absent mother always looking for love, but never finding it; and drowning/chlorine).

The biggest indicator of this, and something that heavily foreshadows the ending, is:

(Maybe, it's the reek of loneliness that wafts off of him. The same scent you wake up to, clinging to your pillow. The one that gnarls behind your ribs like a mouldering infestation. 

Maybe, it's because out of all the men who wander in, he's the only one who looks like he's already too far gone, and you've always liked the taste of crushing disappointment.)

But the most blatant one is this:

So, you grab a few bottles from under the shelf, and wonder if this is what it feels like to slip into that poetic madness writers talk about sometimes. 

(Or maybe you're just Pavlov's dog.) 

Despite the clear sabotage, MC eventually tries to better herself, and fix Bear. This is mainly shown through the interactions between them (levelling up is what I called it in my notes, lmao), and how MC shifts focus from "he's just like everyone else" to "I want to help him."

This was super apparent in the Peanut Butter Bacon Burgers part where she tries HARD to get the perfect gift (a box of chocolates), and watches a YouTube video on how to wrap it. It was meant to convey her earnestness, and her committment, now, to trying.

It's fleshed out deeper in Part Two, but ultimately, it's too late. MC realises this when they finally discuss their loss. There is a moment when she talks about being scared of cutting the rotting limb (grief) off because what will she be left with? A gaping hole filled with nothing. It also foreshadows the ending a bit with her commenting that she's used to the stench (also unwilling to let go).

“It’s not something you learn. It’s just—something you have to do. You can’t bury it because it’ll just rot. You can’t run from it because it’ll just catch up to you. You have to face it. Take it on. Or it ruins you."

An epiphany in sin.

The ending is actually foreshadowed in Part One when MC comments that her horoscope says:

The most offbeat thing that happened today was your horoscope this morning said to be wary of sinkholes, a problem you haven't thought of since you were younger, and one you doubt you'd face in Virginia, of all places. 

And then later, when she meets Bear, she says:

He keeps his gaze—cenote blue—fixed on you the whole time. 

Ahhhh, I rambled so much!!! 😅 But I tried to keep tight notes with this series since it was going to be more than one chapter so I have tonnes of notes on it.

Thank you so much for this!!! 🖤

[mishitekchemicals1]

An Industrial Waste water Treatment System: How to work?

Prior to release into the environment or reuse, industrial waste water treatment refers to the systems and procedures utilised to clean up waters that have been harmed in some way by anthropogenic industrial or commercial processes. Some sort of waste water treatment system is typically required for industrial businesses that produce wastewater as part of their process to ensure safety precautions and discharge restrictions are satisfied. The best industrial wastewater treatment system will assist the facility in preventing damage to the environment, human health, its processes, or its output. Additionally, it will assist the facility to prevent costly fines and potential legal action if wastewater is unlawfully discharged into the environment . While there are many other types of treatment methods, a typical wastewater treatment facility procedure will typically involve the following steps:

Coagulation

To remove the bulk suspended solids and other impurities, several chemicals are applied to a reaction tank during the coagulation process. This procedure begins with a variety of mixing reactors, usually one or two reactors that add particular chemicals to remove all of the smaller water particles by combining them into larger particles that settle out. Aluminum-based coagulates like poly-aluminum chloride and alum are the most frequently utilized coagulants.

Sometimes coagulating the particles will also benefit from a modest pH change.

Flocculation

When coagulation is finished, the water is poured into a flocculation chamber where the coagulated particles are slowly stirred together with long-chain polymers (charged molecules that grab all the colloidal and coagulated particles and pull them together), creating observable, settleable particles that resemble snowflakes.

Sedimentation

Flocculated particles and water enter the chamber of the gravity settler (or sedimentation stage of the wastewater treatment process) and circulate outward from the center. The sediments slowly settle to the bottom of the clarifier and form a sludge blanket as a result of the water rising to the top and overflowing at the clarifier’s edge. The sludge is then pushed out of the bottom of the clarifier into a sludge-handling or dewatering operation after the solids are slowly mixed in the center of the clarifier in a cylindrical tube.

With the use of filter or belt presses, the dewatering procedure removes all the water from the sludge, producing a solid cake. The sludge is placed in a large hopper that either travels to a landfill or a facility that reuses the sludge after the sludge water is placed onto the press and flows between two belts that squeeze the water out. Usually, the water from this procedure is recycled and added to the clarifier’s front end.

Filtration

The water overflow is often routed through gravity sand filters as the next step. These filters are large spaces where two to four feet of coarsely crushed silica sand with jagged edges is placed. Usually, the sand is inserted in the filter between two and four feet deep, where it packs tightly. The particles are then captured by the feed water as it passes through.

Instead of using gravity sand filtering for smaller industrial systems, you might choose a packed-bed pressure multimedia filter. However, for the most part, the polishing phase for conventional wastewater treatment is sand filtering. In some cases, depending on the water supply and whether or not it has a lot of iron, you can also use a green sand filter instead of the sand filter.

 Alternatively to using a gravity sand filter after the clarifiers, ultrafiltration (UF) can alternatively be utilized as a replacement for the complete clarification process. Membranes are the newest treatment method, bypassing the complete clarifier/filtration train and pumping water directly from the wastewater source though the UF (post-chlorination).

Disinfection

The following stage is often disinfection or chlorination to kill the microorganisms in the water after it has passed through the gravity sand filter.

This procedure is occasionally carried out upstream, prior to filtration, to keep the filters clean and free of pathogens. You will need to use additional disinfectant if your system uses this step before filtering so that the filters are cleaned and kept germ-free (as well as the filtered water). By adding chlorine at the beginning, you eliminate microorganisms and reduce fouling. Bacteria in the bed may cause you to develop slime and need to backwash the filters more frequently. Therefore, it all relies on how your system works, such as if it is configured to chlorinate upstream.

Distribution

The wastewater is often put into a holding tank where it can be used as needed by the facility if it is being reused in an industrial operation. If the treated water is intended for municipal use, it is typically pumped into a network of water towers and other collection and distribution equipment that forms a loop across the city.

Additional steps in the wastewater treatment process include: 

Lime softening

A lime and/or lime soda method is utilized in waters with significant levels of hardness, sulfates, or other elements that need to precipitate or be removed. By increasing pH, it causes metals and hardness in the water to precipitate out. It is possible to utilize cold, warm, or hot lime procedures, and each will provide a different efficiency. More hardness is often removed by hotter water.

Ion exchange softening

If there is a high level of hardness, there may be post treatment to get rid of the hardness in various industrial and municipal uses. Instead of lime, a softening resin that is charged with a sodium ion can be employed; when the water becomes harder, the resin will bind to calcium, magnesium, and iron molecules because of their higher affinity, allowing the sodium molecule to escape into the water. A strong acid cation exchange is the term used to describe this phenomenon.

Special processes

The laws governing wastewater and effluent vary depending on where you are, as we said before. Some of the most typical procedures in a wastewater treatment facility have been covered. Usually, special process stages are used to address a particular problem, such as the removal of specific metals or organics, the reduction of TDS for recycling, etc. The best course of action for treating these diverse issues unique to your circumstances must be carefully thought out.

Conclusion

Mishitek Chemicals has over 30 years combined experience custom-designing and manufacturing wastewater treatment systems, so please feel free to reach out to us with your questions. For more information or to get in touch, contact us here.

[boytouya]

crush

w.count: 1.5k

pairing: katsuki bakugo x male reader, meet-cute

a/n: this been sitting in my drafts for a long time… summer is basically over so i think it’s time to just get rid of it 😭 so sorry for the paragraphs of like…nothing

Dry concrete soaks water deep within its crevices, leaving behind foot-shaped tracks as you step out the pool. It’s a stark contrast compared to the cold water, as heated pavement begins to burn the soles of your feet. Cerulean water calls for you, blowing in the same direction as the gentle summer breeze. Your limbs stretch, cracking as you release the tension between your joints.

You spare the pool one last glance, squinting as yellow rays bounce off the mass and into your eyes. Still, it’s beautiful. You’d stay forever if you could, submerged in almost mythical hues of blue. Sighing, you return your gaze to pruney fingers, wiggling them as if they’d return back to normal in a matter of seconds. You hop from one foot to the other, desperate to get back to your secluded area of shade, desperate to extinguish the burning in your feet.

You slide to the corner, just beneath a rather large umbrella, taking a moment to grab your backpack and pull out your phone. You huff out a sigh of relief, relaxing as your body quickly chills atop the poolside floor. The moment your back meets cool metal, from the fence encasing the public space, the entryway gate creaks from the pressure of countless teens. Their hair is almost as bright as the glimmering chlorine, smiles spreading across their youthful faces as they chat amongst themselves.

You blink, dumbfounded, as a boy with bright red hair runs straight to the pool, seemingly having discarded his casual clothing before even stepping foot into the community space. He jumps in with a strangled shout, hugging his knees to his chest as water explodes past the edges of the pool. Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire as water meets your calf, and out of instinct, your leg jerks back. He resurfaces with what you assume is a smile, raising soaked arms above his head as he shakes out his hair. In a way, he reminds you of a puppy.

Hidden behind him runs an electric blond (if he qualifies as such), who belly flops into the pool with uncertainty painting his face a mere split second before hitting the water. You feel yourself smile, despite having no connection to the strangers. Warmth courses through your body, even as cool air hits your skin. They feel familiar; they feel like friends.

You find yourself slowly inching closer, close enough to see where the pool ends, a darker shade of blue circulating around the edges of the pool. It ripples with each movement the boys make, and erupts abruptly when another body drops into the water. It’s seemingly much more aggressive, and you’d worry for the person who might as well have dropped a bomb into the water, but it sprays directly into your face before you can close your mouth.

With a mouthful of chlorine, you blink away droplets of water clinging to your eyelashes with matched aggression. The culprit, completely unapologetic, arises from gleaming water with a scrunched up face. Almost as surprised as you are, his full lips twist into a snarl as his hand finds a freckle dusted ankle that had only scurried away by a mere millimeter. The blond, snarling with sharp canines, throws the freckled boy into the water with enough force to suck him beneath the deeper end of the pool. A mixture of forest green and midnight black flash before your eyes, leaving just as soon as it arrives.

You’re not even sure he’s the unlucky person who pushed the blond in.

Despite gaping at the stranger like a fish, you find the corners of your lips twisting upwards as he whips his head around in your direction. His bottom lip, pink and carrying a droplet of water, jutts out as he bares his teeth at you. He’s undeniably pretty, he even has a beauty mark just below his right eye to prove it- but the hideous face he makes at you screams otherwise.

The muscles in his biceps ripple as his shoulders scrunch up, matching the makeshift waves disrupting the pool.

“Aw man, there he goes- Bakugo! Be nice!” Your eyes flicker back to the redhead, who shakes his head fondly.

“Mind your business!” The blond, Bakugo, shouts back. You find yourself instinctively leaning back, as if his words alone will blow up in your face.

The warm sunlight hits his face like a painting, with light strokes across the baby fat clinging to his pale cheeks. It cascades down the muscles of his front, which seemingly repel the water flowing around him. With zero sense of self preservation, you sit still at the end of the pool. He looks awfully familiar, with spiky blond hair that seems to be strategically disheveled and piercing crimson eyes.

“Hah? Shut your trap!” You didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it was too late- the teen was already on a warpath. He yells once more, and suddenly, you recall him from the sports festival. In the corner of your eye you can see an apologetic gaze masked by emerald irises.

The over exuding confidence, the wit radiating off of him— the way he squares up his posture to look more intimidating… Katsuki Bakugo, the winner of the sports festival. But something in his eyes twist, and they darken much more than you ever thought they could— as if he has a different idea. As if you know him from elsewhere.

He pulls you in by your shoulder, holding you between the edge of cerulean water and eggshell concrete. You can feel his breath fan across your face, with cool tones of mint brushing against the tip of your nose. He holds you by the arm as if he knows you, tightening his grip as the pads of his fingers dig into your bicep. Not too hard, just enough to jostle you off the edge and into the water with an unexpected gasp.

The chlorine burns your nose, violating your nostrils as you squeeze your eyes shut against faux currents. Though it’s muffled, you can hear Bakugo’s shrill laughter. And if you opened your eyes, you’d see his legs thrashing beneath the surface.

Raising your head above the water, you make out the large grin spread across the blond’s face through streams of water. He watches it run down your face like the hills of a mountain, fire igniting in his vermillion eyes. There’s something about it that’s contagious, spreading like a wildfire as you find yourself smiling too. Maybe it’s the dimples pulling at his cheeks— or the way his eyes squint with pride.

Carmine meets [eye color], but only for a split second before the blond finds a spot on the ledge, pulling himself up with only an ounce of his upper body strength. His smile vanishes, with lips pursed just as tight as his furrowed eyebrows. He’s hard to read, you wish you knew what he was thinking about.

Your body moved on its own, jumping to propel yourself up to sit next to the brash boy. Water splashes off your shorts, and you miss the way Katsuki’s eyes rake over your shoulder blades. Your shoulders bump, and you can hear him make a noncommittal grunt upon impact. A small smile reaches your lips, and you scoot enough to respect his personal space.

The water carries your legs across the surface, involuntarily tangling your limbs with the boy next to you. His face remains turned to the side, but you can see nerves in the way he balls his hand into a fist and pushes his knuckles against the concrete.

“Oh, by the way,” You nudge him with your elbow, watching his head whip around and smack cold water onto your face. With you, he seems much more responsive than with his friends- but you don't comment on it. He doesn’t either. “I’m [Name], from Shiketsu.”

His face sours, distorting to look almost as pruney as your fingertips. You’d laugh if he wasn’t borderline insulting you.

“Huh. Your sorry ass would’ve looked better at U.A.” He scowls, though much more at the thought of never really being able to see you again outside of district activities than the thought of you at Shiketsu.

“In the uniform, or in general?” You snicker, watching his scowl twist into something tight lipped. You can't tell if it’s the sun shining through his earlobes or a considerate amount of blush, but the tips of his ears are stark red.

“Eat shit.” He grits, steadying himself as though he was about to push you back into the water. He shakes his head, but there’s a heavy lack of malice or ill-intent in his statement. He lets out an inaudible whisper under his breath, something that sounds along the lines of ‘Both.’

[johnbbutmakeitace]

the grey morning light reflects the dull feeling in jj’s head where he’s perched on the gently swaying bow of the hms pogue.

his fishing rod, from where it’s propped up beside him, hasn’t so much as twinged in the past half hour. he’s beginning to suspect that the only thing he’ll be catching on the hook this morning is some dead seaweed and a headache.

“snagged anything yet?” from his spot in the boat’s driver’s seat, pope’s voice cuts through the quiet like scissors through ribbon.

“nah,” jj replies, tugging at the dry skin on his lip with his teeth while he peers over the side. the steel blue waters rocking their little habitat provide no information on if anyone down there is particularly interested in jj’s perfect little fish buffet. “no biters today.”

“maybe they can tell your bait is a week old.” when jj looks, pope’s watching him with a knowing look, brown eyes somehow bright enough to make jj squint at the sight of them.

“yeah, maybe you should shut up,” jj says, and pope snorts, before he goes back to watching the cloud covered sunrise, his green snapback pulled low over his eyes.

“‘it’s alright.” pope muses, voice low enough that jj can feel the hum of it in chest. “morning’s nice enough to just hang out anyway.”

jj curls one leg up to rest his cheek against his knee and stares back out at the water. he tries his best to ignore the way he feels like he’s floating.

“yeah,” he mutters.

there have been a lot of days recently when jj thinks he’ll float out and away from his body, if he lets himself.

it’s like he’s watching himself-- no, like he’s watching his body. he is somewhere else, suspended in the air like he’s half sunk to the bottom of a swimming pool’s deep end. his lungs ache, and the pressure is crushing his ears but he can’t quite seem to let himself sink far enough to kick off the bottom, his toes just barely brushing the concrete basin.

and he knows if he just tried a little harder he could probably force himself out of it. he could wrench his arms up with enough force to push himself to the bottom and kick off, shoot for the surface and the stars beyond like he’s supposed to, and yet.

and yet he never quite can. maybe it’s all the chlorine in his eyes. maybe it’s the fact he knows he’ll never quite make it to the surface anyway, let alone the stars.

so he’ll settle for the aching lungs and plugged up ears, not because he wants to but because there’s no other choice. he’ll settle for never quite enough. he’ll settle for floating away.

“quit that.”

jj looks up from his own tired reflection in the marsh water. “huh?”

pope’s watching him with that luminous kind of amusement and patience that jj knows he gets from his mom. the teasing set to his lips is all pope’s own, though.

“you’re chewing your lip,” he says. “i can see it bleeding.”

“oh.” distantly, jj registers the light sting on his lip. he swipes his tongue over the cut and feels it burn a little.

pope’s teasing look falters, just a little. his brows pinch, his quirked smile teetering towards something like worry. “you okay?”

“‘m fine.” jj looks away before he can see it fall. “just tired.”

a silence settles. there’s nothing but the rushing wind in his ears and the occasional creak of the hms pogue to keep jj from slipping out of his skin entirely.

he can barely feel pope’s gaze on the back of his head. he watches his own shoulders curl up towards his ears, the tips going pink. he notices the way his fingers are shaking, the red welling up on his lip, the way he squeezes his eyes shut to stop from losing what he’s supposed to call his sense of self all together.

then there’s a hand on his shoulder.

a warm, real hand yanking him back down into himself so fast jj is suddenly dizzy with the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“hey.” pope’s voice is beside him now. “jj, look at me.”

jj obeys, looks up into worried brown eyes and he suddenly can’t look too long because pope’s eyes are so genuine and bright in their concern it makes his eyes burn. the burn is hot, and so naturally that means tears start rushing up to put out the fire, and they’re slipping down jj’s cheeks and now he’s crying in front of pope, which is just fucking great.

“jj,” pope starts, and he sounds so crestfallen and confused, and he’s looking at jj like he’s at a loss, like he’s worried, and jj scrubs his hands over his burning eyes before he can see any more of the distress on his friend’s face.

“sorry,” jj manages, trying furiously to wipe at his tear stained face. “sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“shh, it’s okay,” pope soothes, and his gentle hands pull jj’s rough ones away from his face. “stop that, it’s okay. look at me, jj. look.”

warm fingers guide his chin up to look into pope’s face, and all the worry and confusion on pope’s face has melted away, despite the pinch of concern in his brow. he searches jj’s face, and whatever he finds there must be enough.

“c’mere,” he says, and jj goes. he lets himself be pulled into pope’s warm embrace, face hidden in the crook of pope’s neck. his shoulders shake with choked sobs, and pope holds him close through it all.

the morning goes on, and jj remains pinned, both in body and mind, against the steady beat of pope’s heart. when he feels as though he can breathe again, he looks up into bright brown from his resting place against pope’s shoulder.

“hey,” he says, and pope lets out a gentle laugh that shakes the two of them.

“hey,” pope responds amicably, that glinting amusement he gets from his mom dancing on his lips. “feeling better?”

“yeah,” he rasps, and doesn’t miss the way pope winces at the rough sound.

“wanna tell me what that was all about?” pope asks.

not trusting his own voice, jj shakes his head, and curls in closer to pope’s shoulder.

“okay.” pope nods, takes it in stride. “anything you need to help?”

jj hesitates. then, voice barely above a whisper, “you.”

jj feels pope’s breath hitch. he watches his eyes widen, and this close, jj feels the gentle huff of breath pope lets out against his cheek. jj watches pope’s gaze flicker down to his lips and back up again.

“me?” pope asks softly.

“you,” jj whispers, and pushes himself up off pope’s shoulder to meet him in the middle for a kiss.

it starts out gentle, then deepens quickly, the two refusing to have to pull away until they break apart gasping for air.

the first thing jj says when they pull apart is, “ow.”

“shit, your lip. sorry,” pope realizes half a second too late, and jj lets out a breathy laugh. “is it okay?”

“it’s fine,” jj promises, a light smile gracing across his features. pope’s own smile grows bigger, and jj pulls him back into his arms. “do it again.”

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: namjoon’s hot & y/n’s nervous

someone requested a swimmer!joon drabble many moons ago and i started writing it but then never got around to finishing it,..,. and honestly the only reason why i wanted to write it was so that a shirtless namjoon could do the whole ‘lemme squeeze past you here’ move to y/n so after i wrote that scene i was like well. my work here is done. time for me to leave!!!!! 

admittedly this is a pretty boring drabble but i hope u enjoy it nonetheless <33

                                        »»————-　♡　————-««

let’s be clear here

the only reason why you took this job was for the money but even now you’re starting to wonder if maybe you should’ve applied to work at starbucks instead even though it pays way less

you HATE swimming pools!

why are you here?!

why did you take this job?!

you’ve always thought that swimming pools were literally just giant pits of other people’s dead skin cells, slimy snot, and not to mention… actual uRINE

disgusting!!!

absolutely revolting!!!

and the thought of accidentally swallowing some of that makes you want to projectile vomit from the ceiling to the floor

in fact, you don’t even remember the last time you dipped a toe in a swimming pool and you’re not planning on evEr dipping any of your toes in a swimming pool for the rest of your life

thankfully, you don’t actually have to get into the swimming pool (so you’re not sure what you’re even complaining about) because all you have to do is keep it clean and sanitized

you’re in charge of skimming, brushing, and vacuuming the pool which is definitely as boring (and as tedious) as it sounds

you also have to take care of the pH levels, the alkalinity, and the sanitiser levels

even though it’s a lot of work for one person, it’s a pretty easy job anD it makes you feel like a chemist when you’re collecting water samples and clinking test tubes around >:-)

with all of this being said, even though you don’t have to get in the pool you always end up leaving absolutely reeking of chlorine and there’s not enough bath and body works warm vanilla sugar body spray that can save you

“good morning, kook!” you chirp as you shut the little metal gate behind you separating the pool area and the office area, “they were out of those cake pops you liked - which is good because you shouldn’t even be eating cake pops for breakfast - so i got you a granola bar instead.”

jungkook blinks down at you from where he’s perched up on his lifeguard chair before plucking the bar from your fingers, “you- you got me a granola bar… a cranberry-raisin granola bar… to replace the double fudge cake pop i usually have for breakfast?”

“…yes?”

he frowns

“do you hate me?”

you smile sheepishly before raising a smoothie cup for him to take as well, “i also got you a kale-cucumber smoothie because they were having a 2 for 1 special on smoothies!”

“how come i get the sewage green smoothie and you get a cool purpley one??” he pouts as he points to the other one in your hand, “what flavour is yours??”

you press your lips together as you look down at your much more appealing looking smoothie,“blueberry banana-“

jungkook resists the urge to pop the lid off and dumP it all over your head

he’s at the perfect angle to do so

“yoU get blueberry banana and i get KALE-CUCUMBER- again, do you hate me???”

jesus

jungkook is a great pal but good goD he can be annoying sometimes

there’s nothing wrong with a kale cucumber smoothie!

…you personally wouldn’t want to drink it because it smells and looks and tastes pretty nasty BUT there’s still nothing wrong with it!!!!

“you know what, fine-” the echo of a locker slamming from the changing rooms has you pausing for a second before you continue, “i’m only going to do this because i know that you’re going to somehow use this smoothie incident against me in the future- you can take my smoothie and i’ll just go up and get another one.”

“thank youuuu…” jungkook grins as you take the cup from him and you can’t help but roll your eyes as he sips on yoUR smoothie happily while kicking his legs

big ol baby

“and, by the way-” you push the metal gate open before turning to look up at jungkook again, “i hope there’s an unblended frozen blueberry in there for you to choke on, you-“

“good morning, namjoon!” jungkook interrupts you before you get a chance to cuss him out and you immediately feel your entire body freeze up

you manage to swivel your upper body around just a little to double-check that namjoon is actually here and jungkook’s not playing around with you

he’s done that to you more than a couple times just because he likes messing with you >:-)

ah

yep

namjoon is definitely here

in all his shirtless glory

you’ve seen a shirtless namjoon a countless number of times but the view just never fails to make your tummy flutter

his golden, sun-kissed skin.,.,

the ridges of his abs and the faint outline of his v-line.,,.

his broad, broad chest that look like the ends of two perfect loaves of freshly baked bread-

“morning!” namjoon beams at jungkook before looking over at you with a tilt of his head, “good morning, y/n.”

“good morning!” your grip around the cup is so tight you’re surprised the lid hasn’t popped off yet

you’re fully aware that you’re standing in his way but you truLY are unable to move

“the pool’s nice and warmed up for you, man!” jungkook gestures to the pool and for the first time, you’re grateful for one of his interruptions because after ‘good morning’ you can’t think of anything else to say

“that’s what i like to hear-” namjoon laughs, “-lemme squeeze past you here, baby.”

he places a hand on your waist from behind and you feel your heart skip a beat at how big his hand feels on you

you feel the warmth radiating off of his half-naked figure as his bare chest skims your back

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air after he slides past you and your nose twitches slightly 

you take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you watch namjoon saunter off to the other end of the pool, a dreamy little sigh leaving your mouth

“…oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you?” jungkook snorts as you slowly make your way over to him, looking as dazed as ever, “could you make it any more obvious that you have a big fat crush on-”

“would it kill you to be a little more quiet??” you hiss before whacking his foot

“oh, sorry, lemme just-” jungkook straightens up in his seat and clears his throat, “say, it looks like the water isn’t the only thing here that’s WET-!”

your eyes widen and you give his leg a harder whack this time

namjoon turns to glance over at you two and you give him a sheepish smile and a little wave

…

phew

that was a close one  

“how would one go about respectfully asking someone else to rail them?” you ask wistfully before bringing your straw up to your lips for a sip of your smoothie

your nose immediately wrinkles at the bitter zing of pureed kale

yuCk

who thought putting kale into a drink would be a good idea??

“just add ‘please’ at the end of your request. here, let me demonstrate-“ jungkook clears his throat and straightens up in his seat before beginning to speak in a higher-pitched voice that you’re assuming is an impression of yoU, “oh, namjoon… i want you to flip me like a pancake and slather me in your melted butte-”

“jungkook!”

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (7/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I so rarely get the time to go through comments anymore, but I had some time this morning and just plowed through responding to a bunch but not all (I'm getting there). I want to let you all know that you're sweethearts, and I really appreciate you! ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-/-

“So tell me, what are your intentions with our dear Emma?”

Killian coughs on his water, but luckily, he swallows it before it can all come out on his shorts. They’ve finally dried after Emma pulled him into the water, payback for him tossing her in, and he’d like to not be chilled after the sun has set and the air around them has cooled. Most of the Nolans’ neighbors have left and returned to their own homes, but several still remain lounging in the pool or inside where it’s warmer.

“Excuse me?”

“Emma,” Ruby repeats. The woman’s a little drunk, but no one would know it if it wasn’t for the slight way she delays a few of her words. Ruby’s girlfriend is inside getting her coffee now, but Killian already knows the hangover in the morning will be a killer. “Our lovely Emma Swan. What are your intentions with her?”

“To be her friend,” Killian says, not sure how to answer. Emma’s inside with David and Mary Margaret, and he wishes she were here to save him from this conversation.

“And to fuck her,” Ruby adds, and Killian nearly chokes on his water again. “But let me tell you something.” She pokes his chest, and Killian laughs. “She likes you.” “Is that what she said?”

“No, but she’s my best friend. I know her, and she likes you. Emma doesn’t like anyone. She talks about you all the time. I think she has a crush.”

“Does she now? Talk about me, that is.”

“Maybe not an official crush, but she talks about you, so she might as well write Emma Swan likes Killian Jones on all of her notebooks.”

She’s drunk, he reminds himself. She’s drunk, and she’s not sure what she’s saying. He and Emma have an agreement, and even though they can be rather friendly with each other, that’s simply the aftereffect of spending so much time together. You have to be a good communicator in order to have good sex, and, well, he might not be good at a lot of things now, but he’s good at that.

“Okay, lass,” he starts, standing from the chair. He helps Ruby stand as well, but she quickly does it on her own. Like her words, her steps only barely fumble, and he thinks that has something to do with the ridiculous heels she’s wearing. “Let’s go inside with everyone else, and let’s not talk about Emma anymore.”

Ruby hums, but he knows she won’t listen. He braces himself for the fallout.

But to his surprise, she doesn’t make a beeline for Emma. She goes straight to Mulan, hugging her as she makes Ruby’s coffee. Killian, however, does head for Emma. She’s on the couch in the living room. Her hair is freshly combed through, and she’s wearing what he can only assume are a pair of Mary Margaret’s pajamas. He’s seen an assortment of Emma’s, and there are very few floral sets like this.

Killian slips onto the cushion next to her, keeping his space. They’ve crossed a few of their own boundaries lately, but sometimes it’s good to keep them in place, especially around other people. Not that it matters here when everyone knows what he and Emma are to each other.

Well, what he thinks they are to each other. He’s trying not to put too much stock into what Ruby said, but the words have settled directly into the middle of his mind.

“What are you wearing?” he asks since everyone else seems to be occupied by the baseball game on the television.

“Mary Margaret’s. I didn’t bring extra clothes, and some asshole threw me into the pool.”

“What a wanker.”

Emma laughs and pulls a blanket up further over her, wrapping her body in it. “Do you want to leave soon? Go back to my place? It’s closer than yours.”

“You sure you haven’t had enough of me today?”

Emma exhales and pats his knee. “I’m sure.”

They drive separately to Emma’s place. Killian parks in his usual spot across the street while Emma parks in the driveway and leaves the front door unlocked for him to follow through. She’s already tossing her wet clothes into the washing machine by the time he gets inside.

“Hand me yours. I’ll wash them too.”

Killian glances down at his clothes. “I won’t have anything else to wear, darling. Though, I’m sure that’s your intention.”

Emma rolls her eyes and holds her hand out. “I don’t have to fake doing your laundry to see your dick, Jones. Just give me the clothes. You’ve left stuff upstairs.”

Killian slowly pulls his t-shirt off, making it as seductive as possible, but Emma only starts tapping her foot. He laughs and tosses his shirt into the machine before doing the same with his shorts and briefs. Emma does a bland wolf whistle, and Killian adds a small amount of sway to his hips as he walks upstairs to find the clothes she claims he left behind. There’s a pair of joggers in one of her drawers, which he quickly pulls on before going to her bathroom to brush his teeth. She joins him to do her nightly routine that he knows as well as his own now.

Wash face. Moisturize face. Brush teeth. Brush hair. Put lotion on arms and legs. Get in bed.

It’s far more intimate than he’s been with a woman in a long time, since Tink actually, but nothing about it is truly complicated. There’s no wondering if he’s taking her out enough, if he’s being supportive enough, if he’s being emotionally vulnerable enough, if he’s being enough. His arrangement with Emma is simple, even if sometimes little slivers of complicated slip in.

He likes her, likes sleeping with her, and even if he knows this all ends when he returns to his real life in England before October, he’s going to enjoy it for now.

Ruby’s words poke at the back of his mind, but he brushes them away. Again. And again until they disappear, at least for now. He knows they’ll sneak back in because if Emma likes him the way a drunk Ruby thinks, that could be complicated in more ways than he’s willing to think about.

More ways than he can handle without his own head becoming a messy place when this is the first time in a long time it’s been clear.

(But who is he kidding? The messy is already starting to slip in.)

Killian joins Emma in her bed, getting comfortable underneath the covers, and Emma flips over, the strap of her ridiculous floral pajamas falling over. Killian reaches for it and tugs it back up, his thumb running underneath her collarbone. Her skin is always ridiculously soft, which she always claims is from the lotion.

It’s not.

“Today was nice,” he whispers, still running his thumb along her collarbone. He leans in, gently and nudges his nose underneath it, breathing her in. She still smells of chlorine. “Thanks for letting me come along.” Emma hums and runs her hands through his hair, scratching along his scalp. Damn, that feels good. “I couldn’t stop you if I tried…not that I would. I guess you’re allowed to spend time with my friends.”

“Your generosity overflows.” Emma laughs, and Killian continues to work his mouth along her collarbone. “Your laugh is spectacular.” He drags his nose down her chest until he’s pushing aside her shirt and freeing her breast. “This is also spectacular.”

She laughs again, and Emma quickly unbuttons her shirt so Killian can have a better grasp on her breast. She arches her back and pulls down her shorts, and while Killian wasn’t planning on this being anything more than some light teasing, he now knows it isn’t that.

Not that he would ever complain.

His mouth dries when Emma reaches between them and grabs his cock underneath his joggers. It feels damn good, like it always does, and he moves away from Emma’s stomach to help pull down his joggers so Emma can get a better grip. Her hand is warm and soft, and he could let her do this all night.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and Emma smirks. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“I’m hysterical. Get on your back.”

“You know I like a woman in charge.”

“Alright, don’t get on your back.”

Killian huffs and kisses just above her navel before flipping over onto his back, propping his head up with pillows. Emma moves to straddle his thighs, rubbing herself over him in order to tease, and Killian places his hands on her hips, helping her balance. It’s slow when she guides him into her, and Killian curses at how good it feels, how good she feels. It’s even slower when Emma begins to move her hips, a gentle back and forth that has her hair falling in damp waves over her shoulders. It’s a good view, a good feeling, even when the room is only illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window on the opposite side of the room and the light coming through the hallway door. It makes Emma’s hair glow nearly silver, and he grabs the ends, running it between his fingers.

Emma begins to talk about the party, telling him he missed a rousing rendition of Chicago, courtesy of a drunk Mary Margaret, and Killian doesn’t even want to imagine that. Emma does a pretty good impersonation, however, so he really has no choice other than to think about it.

This is good. It’s nice. For the last couple years, sex has been nothing but scratching the itch. It’s been fast, simple, and maybe only involved a few dates. There was no talking or laughing, and there definitely was not any impersonating drunk friends doing musical numbers.

Emma is so damn closed off most of the time, but there are moments like this, like earlier when she shared a little about her past, that he wonders if she’s becoming a little more open.

He thinks he’d like to get to know her more. At least as a friend since he knows more won’t be possible.

There those thoughts come again, invading his space just like Emma is.

Emma’s movements become a little stunted, the roll of her hips not as smooth, so Killian tightens his grip on her thighs and slowly moves them over. When he slips out of her, he quickly thrusts back in as they settle into their new position. The air is tight in his chest, his release coming faster than he expected, and he whispers so to Emma as his hand reaches down between them while her legs wrap around his ass and her hands trace the muscles in his back.

It’s good.

It’s all so bloody good, and he doesn’t want it to end.

But it does, of course, in several hissed curses and whispered words, and Killian grins into Emma’s collarbone before rolling off her.

“I was not expecting that,” Emma mumbles, patting his stomach, “but it works for me.”

“Glad to be of service,” Killian chuckles.

Emma hums and then gets out of bed to walk to the bathroom while he cleans up around them before grabbing the joggers off the floor and putting them back on. Emma comes out of the bathroom in a pair of shorts and a tank top, a much more Emma-like outfit, and he smiles before getting comfortable in bed. He could go home, go back to the big house with no one around, but he knows Emma will let him stay here until she has to go to work in the morning.

“I’m exhausted,” Emma sighs before getting into bed and yanking the covers up to her neck. “Do you think I could get away with playing hooky tomorrow?”

“On a Sunday morning? At the Blue Dog?”

“Ugh,” she groans, “you’re right. I hate when you’re right.” “So you hate me all the time then?”

Emma rolls her eyes and kicks his shin. “Goodnight, Jones.”

Killian leans over and kisses her cheek. “Goodnight, Swan.”

-/-

The sun is beginning to rise when he wakes, the dark sky being infiltrated by little bursts of orange light, and while Killian tries to bury his face in Emma’s hair and fall back asleep, he can’t. Despite his best efforts, he’s awake, and after spending nearly an hour answering texts and emails from Ariel, Elsa, and Scarlet, he slowly climbs out of bed, making sure not to disturb Emma, and goes downstairs to fix breakfast. His stomach growls with hunger despite how much he ate yesterday, and surprisingly, Emma has food in her fridge. She’s a fan of take-out and leftovers from her places of work, so rarely is there ever food in the fridge.

Killian takes the eggs and milk out, grabbing some fruit too, before he grabs some flour from her cabinets. It’s been years since he used a waffle maker, and despite a disastrous first attempt, he gets the hang of it enough to start making some eggs on the stove. Emma can sleep like the dead, but her alarm should be going off any minute now. Usually, she heads straight for the shower, but Killian knows Emma can’t resist food, especially if it’s something different than what she eats every day.

There’s a creak upstairs, obviously Emma’s footsteps, and then he hears a door open, and Killian flips the waffle over.

“Emma, love, do you want fruit in your waffles? Or maybe some chocolate. I know you must have chocolate around here.”

There’s no answer, at least not from Emma.

“Are you my mom’s friend?”

Killian jumps and turns to see a kid standing in the kitchen. What the hell? Who the hell is that, and what is he doing in Emma’s house?

“Who, uh, who’s your mum?” Killian asks, scratching his ear and hoping Emma comes down the stairs at any moment. Maybe this is a neighbor’s kid who decided to have a little fun today. “Who are you, mate?”

“I think the better question,” an older man holding suitcases says, “is who the hell are you? And what do you think you’re doing in my son’s house?”

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[bbyannabeth]

Can you write fluff 10-16 for percabeth maybe bff to lovers thank youu💙

10. Stop moving and let me braid your hair

16.  Can you please just hold me?

-- “Okay, what’s wrong?”

The abrupt question caught Annabeth off guard as her eyes snapped over to Percy. They were laying against opposite arms of the couch, their feet respectively pressed against the other’s side.

“What?” she asked. Percy rolled his eyes.

“You suggested this movie and you’re not even watching,” he said. “What’s up?”

Annabeth hesitated before shrugging. “Just stressed. Finals and all,” she said quietly. Which wasn’t a complete lie. She was stressed about finals. But she was also stressed because she’d recently had the revelation that she was in love with her best friend. The very same one that was currently sitting across the sofa from her.

Percy frowned and moved towards her until his entire weight was holding her body down to the couch. “Just stop being stressed, duh,” he said, his head against her shoulder. It took everything in her not to tense up. He was fully laying on her.

Which wasn’t exactly new. Percy Jackson was the touchiest person in all of New York and he had somehow become best friends with Annabeth, the least touchy person in New York. It was a common occurrence for him to pull her into hugs, wrap an arm around her, hold her hand, or lay on top of her, even if it was just to annoy her.

Annabeth reluctantly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began to play with his hair, which was slightly too long now. “Stop, I need to shower,” he whined, trying to move his head away.

“No,” she said. “Now stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

He scoffed lightly. “It’s not long enough to braid.”

He was right, it kind of wasn’t. Still, Annabeth took a lock in her fingers and separated it, doing her best to braid them together. She only got a few notches into it before she ran out of hair so she undid it and restarted.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly after a few moments, making her drop the poor excuse for a braid and place her hands on his upper back.

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied. “Also you’re hurting my ribs, get off.”

Instead of moving back to his side of the couch, he slid into the space between her and the back cushions, making Annabeth grumble as she had to move over to make more room. Still, she couldn’t complain too much when one of his arms slid under her neck and the other wrapped around her waist.

She turned so her back was to the TV now, one arm trapped between them and the other around his torso. Her fingers rested lightly over the small of his back and her face was pressed against his chest. They laid there in silence for a bit and Annabeth was sure her heartbeat never slowed in the slightest. Percy was warm and he smelled like cologne mixed with a hint of chlorine that never faded from his swim hoodie.

“How many more finals do you have left?” he asked.

“Just two.”

“That’s good,” he whispered, “you’re almost done.”

Annabeth just nodded. She swallowed hard as his hand slid up and down her spine.

“Can I do anything to help?”

She almost said no, because there wasn’t much he could do. Helping her study wasn’t an option when he had his own finals to worry about. But then she realized he already was helping in a way. Just being there with him eased her mind and made her much more relaxed. Despite the heavy anxiety she felt as a result of her feelings for him she’d discovered a few weeks ago, she felt better in his arms than she had all day.

Annabeth bit her lip. “Can you please just keep holding me? Like you are now?” she whispered.

Percy hesitated briefly, making her think she messed everything up. Then, with a firm hand on her back, he pulled her even closer. “Of course,” he said.

Annabeth pulled her head back to look up at him with a small smile. “Thank you,” she breathed. “For everything.”

“Anything for you,” he answered without missing a beat. He was so close and looked at her with so much love and adoration, she wanted to spill everything to him. All her feelings, all her love, everything.

Before she could even begin considering what to say to him, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before resting his chin on her temple.

If she hadn’t been focused on solely him, she might have missed it. Percy took a shaky breath and his fingers trembled against her back. Her mind reeled as she set her head back on his chest and felt his heart pounding.

Piper was one of their mutual best friends and she’d known Percy for years longer than Annabeth had. And Piper was certain from the minute she’d introduced the two of them, Percy had the biggest crush on Annabeth, who, of course, denied that because there was no way he could like her.

But now, all of Piper’s words were rushing to her mind as she desperately tried to explain what could have possibly made his breathing suddenly uneven, his hands tremble, and his heart pound. Annabeth lifted her head again. “Perce?” she whispered.

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking down at her. Annabeth studied him and when she didn’t say anything else, he said, “What’s wrong?”

Her hand slid up his chest and over his shoulder until it was resting against the back of his neck. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes searched her face. “Beth?” he whispered.

She pulled him closer and craned her head until their lips were a few centimeters apart. She held her breath as she searched his eyes. “Can I…” she breathed, trailing off.

Percy hesitated and Annabeth resisted the urge to shrink back. “You said you were really stressed and it’s… it’s just, I don’t want stress to be the reason we…” he faltered, struggling to find words. “Like, I don’t want that to be clouding your judgment or anything,” he finished quietly.

“It’s not,” she whispered. “I promise.”

He bit his lip. “Are you sure? I- I can’t let that be why we kiss, Annabeth.”

“I’m sure,” she said. Then quieter, she added, “Please.”

Percy looked at her for another second before nodding and finally, finally, connecting their lips. Annabeth relaxed into his body and they molded together perfectly.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe. It should’ve been weird, kissing someone she’d considered her best friend for so long. Someone she’d thought her feelings for were completely platonic.

But it didn’t feel weird in the slightest. In fact, it felt the most normal thing in the world. It felt like they were meant to be doing this. It was so easy and natural and she might’ve been content doing it for the rest of her life.

All too soon, Percy pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you,” he breathed, surprising Annabeth.

She looked up at him and bit her lip. “I only realized that I loved you a couple weeks ago,” she said honestly, “but I think these feelings have been there for a lot longer.”

His smile grew. “Love?” he whispered.

Annabeth realized then what she’d just admitted but with the way his eyes glittered, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. “Love,” she confirmed. --

send me prompts !

[viastro]

pretty u | boo seungkwan

ミ★ synopsis: in which vernon and chan come up with the brilliant idea to drown seungkwan in the wave pool to get your attention.

ミ★ genre: lifeguard!reader, humor, fluff

ミ★ warnings: mentions of peeing in the wave pool (is that even a warning ??)

ミ★ word count: 2,126

ミ★ pairings: seungkwan x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! there’s absolutely no trace of angst in this, and it’s been a really long time since i’ve written a oneshot without any angst HAHAHA this is just something lighthearted i came up with at like two am last night. hopefully you guys enjoy it ! remember to give lots of love to seungkwan <333

“Do we have to go into the wave pool? I’m pretty sure all the kids pee in it.”

“Don’t kids pee in every pool?” Chan counters, and Seungkwan frowns at that. The sudden realization that children and some grown adults will pee in any large body of water they see hitting him like a truck. Vernon laughs at Seungkwan’s facial expression changing into one of disgust, and pats him on the back. “It’s okay Seungkwan, we’ll all take a shower after we leave the waterpark anyways.” 

The three walk up to the wave pool with Seungkwan still being disgusted at the fact that children and some grown adults find the pool as their personal bathroom. That is, until he looks up and sees who’s at the lifeguard station. 

“Holy shit.” Seungkwan mutters, causing Chan and Vernon to look in the direction he’s staring at, just to find you sitting in the tall stool. You look around at the different people in the wave pool, making guesses in your head at who may be peeing as you also keep an eye out for anyone drowning. 

it’s how you find joy in your shift.

“Ooo~ Kwannie has a crush!” Chan teases, causing Seungkwan to reach out and slap his shoulder. “Shut up! I just thought they were pretty.” 

“Go and talk to them.” Vernon says, pushing Seungkwan in the direction of your lifeguard stand, just for Seungkwan to just head straight into the wave pool with no other thoughts. Vernon and Chan share a glance, before following after their red headed friend. 

“Since when have you been shy? You love talking to people.” Chan asks once they catch up to Seungkwan. They’re now thigh deep into the water, but Seungkwan keeps sneaking glances at you. 

“I bet that kid’s peeing right now. There is no reason for him to be looking that pleased in a god damn wave pool.” You mumble as you stare at the child with an odd smile on his face. You know, the one that you make after you’ve held in your pee for a long time and finally got to the toilet.

Yeah, that type of smile.

“I don’t know I’m nervous and they’re working! I don’t wanna bother them when they’re booked and busy. They gotta save lives you know.” Seungkwan tells the two, and they just frown at him as the water has now reached their chests. Chan and Vernon share another glance, before turning back to Seungkwan.

“That sounds like a bunch of excuses.” 

“And what about it?” Seungkwan asks, and Vernon squints at him. He opens his mouth to respond but Chan just lets out a laugh and steps in between them, stopping the two from almost having a brawl in the wave pool. “It’s fine! We can get Kwannie to talk to them later.”

“Aye now I didn’t say all that…” The two don’t listen to his protests as Vernon high fives Chan, telling him that’s a great idea. Seungkwan lets out a sigh of defeat, deciding to just stand around in the wave pool as they wait for the waves to come. 

He doesn’t know why his friends are so invested in his love life. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been in a relationship since high school? And it only lasted two weeks because Seungkwan found out that they don’t like Wonder Girls? Vernon and Chan didn’t blame Seungkwan for that though. They know how much their best friend loves his girl groups. 

It’s nearing the end of summer break, and the trio decided to go to the water park as a means to end summer with a bang. If we ignore the fact that Seungkwan almost drowned, Vernon almost passing out when there was a drop on one of the slides, and that Chan fell off the floatie in the lazy river, then I guess he could say it was a rather successful day. Seungkwan sputters when Vernon splashes water into his face, knocking him out of his thoughts. 

“You gonna keep staring or are we going to have a water fight?” Chan asks with a playful smile, and Vernon motions for Seungkwan to come at them. “Alright, you guys asked for my wrath.”

Your eyes end up landing on a group of guys that look around your age that are laughing loudly as they splash each other. You raise an eyebrow when you take notice of the red head, and you find yourself entranced by how pretty he is. From his kind eyes, to his high cheekbones, and his infectious laughter, you find yourself smiling slightly. 

Vernon takes notice of your staring, and smirks to himself, coming up with a plan to get you and Seungkwan to talk. When Seungkwan turns around, Vernon quickly whispers the plan into Chan’s ear, and the youngest grins, nodding his head. 

“Alright, Seungkwan.” Vernon announces, and Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. He turns his head, only to feel his heart drop into his stomach at the mischievous smiles on Chan and Vernon’s faces. He takes a step backwards when he realizes that the waves are beginning to form.

“Whatever you guys are planning, the answer is no.”

“Okay well, we’re going to do it anyways.” 

???!!!???

“So basically, we’re going to the deep end.” Chan explains as Vernon steps forward and grabs Seungkwan’s arm, dragging him further into the wave pool without asking for permission. Seungkwan begins to protest, but he’s no match to Vernon’s strength as they go into the deeper part of the wave pool. “And then you’re going to pretend to drown.”

“I’m gonna what?”

“You’re going to pretend to drown, and then the pretty lifeguard will see. Then they’ll come and save you, and suddenly we do a time skip and you’re hearing the wedding bells.” Chan finishes, and Seungkwan just shakes his head vigorously. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay great. Hold your breath!” 

“WHA-” All Seungkwan gets is a mouthful of chlorine as the big wave comes and Vernon and Chan push his head underwater. He flails his arms above the water as another wave comes, and you squint in their direction when you see the red head not being able to swim.

“Oh shit.” You quickly take off your sweatshirt and leap into the water, swimming over to the trio who are trying to help the pretty boy out from under the water. Seungkwan kicks Vernon and Chan’s legs under the water, and they let him pop up to take a breath of air, “YOU SAID PRETEND TO DROWN!” 

“My bad!” Chan states before they shove his head back underwater.

“Excuse me!” You exclaim once you reach the three, and you help the pretty boy out of the water. He coughs once he’s out from under, and you hand him the floatie you have. He runs a hand through his wet hair, clinging onto the red floatie like a lifeline as the last big wave hits. 

“Are you okay? I think we should take you out of the wave pool.” You tell him, and Seungkwan nods his head. He’s incredibly embarrassed but he can’t really let it sink in due to the fact that his two best friends almost drowned him. 

You lead the pretty boy out of the wave pool, with you dragging him out as he holds onto the floatie. Vernon and Chan follow from behind, grinning at the sight of the two of you. 

Do they feel bad?

no <3

“I think I inhaled a whole lot of pee water when I was under.” Seungkwan mutters when the two of you finally make it out. You wrap a towel around him that you grabbed from one of the stations on your way over, and you giggle at what he said. 

“Honestly, whenever I’m on lifeguard duty I kinda just look around at all the kids and adults to see who may be peeing. I’m 98% sure that I saw a kid pee right before the wave hit.” You tell him, and you laugh when you see his expression morph into one of disgust. Seungkwan’s eyes sparkle at the sound of your laugh, and Vernon and Chan quietly squeal as they watch from the other table. 

“I can get you some water if you want. Swallowing pool water is kinda nasty.” You offer, and he shakes his head at you. “It’s okay. I’ll just have my friends go and grab me some since they’re the cause of me almost dying.” 

You nod your head as you remember them not making any move to help the poor guy once the wave started to hit. Seungkwan lets out a breath before extending his hand out towards you, “Hi, I’m Seungkwan. Thank you for saving me.” 

You grin, reaching out and grasping his hand, giving it a firm shake. You ignore the slight tingle in your stomach at the fact that you’re currently shaking the hand of someone so pretty, “Hi, I’m yn. I’m glad that you didn’t drown.” 

“You know what, me too.” Seungkwan tells you, and you let out another laugh, shaking your head at him. You turn and glance over at the pool once you hear your fellow lifeguard blow his whistle at you, waving his hand over so that you can go back to your post. You give Seungkwan a regretful smile as you stand up and begin walking back, “I have to go back to my spot now. Make sure to drink lots of water!” 

“What time do you get off?” Seungkwan asks, and you pause, turning back around so that you’re facing the pretty man. He’s staring at you with a hopeful expression on his face, and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks. 

“I get off at 5, so in around thirty minutes or so.” Seungkwan nods his head at this information, before giving you a thumbs up. “I’ll wait for you.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, before waving again and walking back over to your post. You run a hand through your hair, smiling as the feeling of excitement flows through you at the fact that you have a date after your shift is over.

While Vernon and Chan walk back over to Seungkwan, with Vernon placing a cup of water down before his friend who has a dazed expression on his face. “So… did the plan work?” 

Seungkwan bites the inside of his cheek, nodding his head, and the two punch the air in victory. However, Seungkwan glances up at the two, a death glare on his face as he stares at them. Vernon and Chan quickly stop celebrating, knowing that this may be the last thing they see before Seungkwan commits homicide.

“You’re gonna kill us?”

“Yup.”

“Can we at least get a head start?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

And with that, Vernon and Chan begin to speed walk away from Seungkwan, knowing that they aren’t allowed to run on the pool deck. However, Seungkwan is quick to catch up to the two, pulling them both into a headlock as they quickly scream out apologies. 

You watch the three play fight with an amused smile on your face, knowing that his two friends set up Seungkwan to drown so that they can catch your attention. You look away, biting back a smile at the fact that their plan worked though.

“What are you smiling about?” You turn your head to see the child you’re 98% sure peed in the pool staring up at you from the water. You raise an eyebrow, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Oh, you know. Just another day saving lives.” You respond, and the kid frowns at you. 

“But you’re just sitting there.” 

“And I’m 98% sure you peed in the pool, you wanna keep going?” You ask, and the kid scoffs before swimming away from you. He turns around to shout, “You’re mean!” 

“Use the bathroom next time! It’s just a few feet away!” 

“Damn. You two are perfect for each other.” Chan mutters after Seungkwan’s done choking the two. They’re all just sitting at the table, watching you argue with the child. Vernon nods his head in agreement when you stand up from your chair to point at the kid, “Yeah, you’re both snarky.” 

“And we also save peoples lives.” Seungkwan adds, and Chan tilts his head to the side. 

“You don’t save live-” Vernon quickly places his hand over Chan’s mouth to stop him from speaking when he notices Seungkwan’s eye twitching at them. Vernon laughs, patting Chan’s head, “Silly. Of course Seungkwan saves lives! He spared us from seeing God earlier.” 

Chan nods his head once Vernon removes his hand from covering his mouth, and Chan lets out a smile at their red haired friend. 

“Right… you save lives.” 

“Of course!” 

[rpf-bat]

All The Stars In Your City Nights

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 2. Prompt: “Moon”. 

You and your bandmates have been touring nonstop, in support of The Black Parade. On a rare night off, Frank asks you come to the rooftop with him. From this vantage point, you witness something even rarer - a lunar eclipse. 

The Black Parade World Tour was in full swing. You, and the other members of My Chemical Romance, were currently in South America. Last night, you’d played a sold-out show in São Paulo. Tomorrow morning, you’d get back on your tour bus, and begin the long drive to Buenos Aires. But, tonight, you had a short reprieve. You were staying the night in a luxury hotel in Brazil. 

I should try and get some sleep, you told yourself, staring up at the nondescript hotel room ceiling. Bus call is gonna be early as hell. 

Suddenly, you heard a knock at your door. You slid off the bed, wondering who would be bothering you so late at night. 

You opened the door and found your bandmate, Frank, grinning at you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. 

“Frankie?” you blinked sleepily. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” 

“Yeah, but I knew you’d be up,” Frank chuckled. “Come on, I got something to show you.” 

“But, I’m in my pajamas,” you argued, blushing. 

“That’s okay,” Frank shrugged. “We won’t be leaving the hotel property, anyway.” 

“Then, where are we going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Just….trust me,” Frank said mysteriously, lacing his calloused fingers with yours. You didn’t want to admit how much you liked that. 

Curious, you began to follow him down the hall. Still holding hands with you, he led you up a flight of stairs, and then another, until you came to a heavy-looking black door. The sign on the door, read “Roof Access”. 

“We’re going out onto the roof?” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Frank grinned. “Just wait until you see it.” 

With that, he turned the knob, and opened the door. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“There’s a pool up here?” you gasped. 

“Yup,” Frank smiled, looking at the moon, reflected in the chlorinated water. “It’s not usually open at this hour. But I may have, uhh, slipped the hotel staff a couple hundred reais, to ‘encourage’ them to allow us up here.” 

“Seriously?” you chuckled. 

“Seriously,” Frank confirmed. “But, for the record, that’s, like, less than fifty bucks in American money!” 

“Are you gonna tell the guys that this is up here?” you wondered. 

“Maybe tomorrow, before we leave,” Frank replied. “For tonight….I was thinking it could just be our little secret.” 

“Fine by me,” you grinned conspiratively. 

“So, you wanna go for a swim?” Frank suggested. 

“I didn’t pack my bathing suit,” you confessed. 

“Just jump in, in your clothes, then,” Frank suggested. “That’s what I was gonna do.”

“What? No!”

“Unless you’d rather skinny-dip?” Frank smirked. 

“As if!” you scoffed.

“Well, I’m getting in,” Frank shrugged. He stripped off his shirt, revealing the tattooed chest beneath. You tried not to stare. 

His pants came next. Down to his boxers, Frank cannonballed into the pool, seemingly without a care in the world. 

“Dive in, Y/N!” Frank encouraged, splashing around like a kid. “The water’s warm! It feels really nice!” 

“....Fine,” you decided, pulling off your pajama pants, and exposing the cotton panties underneath. You reasoned, that they were no more revealing, than a bikini bottom would be.  The tank top, which matched the pants, stayed on. You were, after all, wearing nothing beneath it. 

You sat down on the edge of the pool, letting the water lap at your calves. Frank was right - it did feel kinda nice. 

He swam over to you. “Won’t you get in the rest of the way?” he coaxed. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitated. 

Frank put his feet on the pool’s floor. It was shallow enough, at this end, for even a short guy like him to stand up properly. He leaned over, and wrapped his arms around your waist. His touch was electric. 

“Whoa!” you gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Pulling you in,” Frank laughed, and dragged you, tumbling, into the water. 

“Ack!” you cried. Water filled your mouth for a moment. You surfaced quickly, and spit it out. “No fair!” 

You splashed water at him, to pay him back. 

“Hey!” he cackled, putting his hands up, to protect his face. “Cut it out!”

“That’s what you get!” you giggled, splashing the water into his hair. 

“Pffft!” he spat. “Ok, I’m sorry!” 

Your sides hurt from laughing. You hadn’t gotten into a splash fight like this since you were a little kid. 

“....Do you forgive me?” he asked, starting to wind down. 

“Yeah,” you smiled. You lay down, and just floated on your back for a moment. “You’re right….this is pretty nice.” 

He floated there with you, quietly. It was peaceful. 

“Wow,” you realized, staring up at the sky. “You can see so many stars from up here.” 

“That reminds me!” Frank blinked. “There’s another reason that I wanted you to come up here with me tonight.”

“What is it?” you wondered. 

“So, I was reading the newspaper this morning…,” Frank began. 

“Wait, the newspaper here?” you interrupted. “I thought Ray was the only one of us, who spoke Portuguese.” 

“I’ve been practicing!” Frank admitted shyly. “When our fans come up to us after the show, to get autographs and stuff, I want to be able to talk to them more. I mean, I know a lot of them speak English, too, but….”

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled softly. 

Frank blushed. 

“So…,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “The newspaper said, that there’s supposed to be a lunar eclipse tonight.” 

“Wow!” you gasped. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “We should get out of the pool, so we can see it better.” 

He swam towards the ladder first, and climbed out, then offered you a hand to help you up. 

“Oh, my hair’s soaking wet,” you complained. “I’m gonna catch a cold, if we sit out here too long.” 

“I know it’s winter right now,” Frank shrugged, “but it’s still Brazil. The temperature doesn’t get below seventy.” 

“Yeah, you have a point,” you realized. 

“Here,” Frank offered. “I brought up a towel, from the bathroom, in my hotel room.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, trying to take it from him. 

“I’ll do it,” he insisted. He put his hands on either side of your face, and started rubbing the towel against your hair, drying it for you. 

“I...I can do it myself,” you stammered. His face was so close to yours. You couldn’t stop staring as a drop of water dripped slowly, from the scorpion on his neck, to the “And” in “Search And Destroy”, on his waist. His bare skin seemed to nearly glow in the moonlight. You longed to touch it. 

“....I think I got it,” Frank whispered, pulling away. “Come on. We should sit down.” 

Your legs were like jelly, as you kneeled on the second towel, that he had set on the ground. He sat beside you, and wrapped the hair towel around the both of you, like a blanket. 

“If you’re really worried about catching cold,” he said softly, “why don’t you come a little closer?”

Your heart wouldn’t stop racing. Suddenly, you looked up at the sky, and realized that the eclipse was starting. 

At first, it looked like a shadow, sliding across the moon. Then, slowly, the shadow grew larger, overtaking the light. It was like the whole moon, was being swallowed by darkness. 

It’s almost scary, you thought. Frank squeezed your hand, which you hadn’t even realized he was holding. 

As you continued to gaze upwards, in wonder, the whole horizon became awash with light. The blackness turned into a magnificent, ruby-like red. A blood moon. 

“....It’s so beautiful,” you gasped. You were so happy, that Frank had brought you up here, to witness this rare and spectacular lunar beauty. 

“.....You’re even more beautiful, Y/N,” Frank said, his voice a hoarse whisper.  

“.....What?” You tore your eyes away from the moon, to look at him. 

His eyes, to your surprise, were filled with desire. He cupped your cheek in his hand, and leaned in close. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” you stammered. “The shadow is going to start to recede from the moon….you’re gonna miss it, if you don’t look up…” 

“I only have eyes for you,” Frank confessed. “I have for a long time.” 

...Huh? your eyes widened. There was no way...could he actually reciprocate the stupid crush, that you’d had on him, all this time? 

His lips crashed into yours, making his feelings abundantly clear. Your arms wrapped around his bare back, pulling him closer. His fingers raked your wet hair as he kissed you harder. 

“....Frank!” you gasped, pulling away. 

“Y/N, I love you,” Frank said passionately. “I’ve had feelings for you, since we first went into the studio, to start recording Black Parade. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I couldn’t find the right time. I figured I wasn’t going to get a more romantic night than this….alone, under the stars, in a gorgeous, foreign country…” 

“Frankie, I love you, too,” you admitted. “I would have loved you, even if our first kiss had been in some grimy parking lot, while the crew gassed up the tour bus.” 

“You mean that?” Frank laughed. “Then...kiss me again.” 

You did, and his lips tasted like pool water, and euphoria. You were no longer looking at the moon at all. 

[cagestark]

Introduction to Ink

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Chapter Four

@starknakedsluts ;)

-

About this: Bucky has tattoos and sheltered!Toni wants to touch them. Fem!Tony Stark. College AU. 

BUCKY.

The first time Bucky sees her, she’s sitting on one of Nat’s tasteful patio chairs with a textbook open on her knees, bent over to try to read by the fading light. Her hair falls long and dark around her face, hands tanned with thin fingers that flick through pages of her book with purpose. All around her are various acts of debauchery: water polo in the pool with Nat shouting at someone who has spilled their cocktail in the chlorinated water; music loud enough to feel like a second pulse where it resonates in the drum of his chest; the patio table beside her littered with bottles of alcohol and mixers. All this and she looks like an island, some peaceful quiet piece of frozen time. Completely out of place. Bewitching.

A warm hand clasps him on the shoulder, startling him. It’s just Steve, hair wet but body dry when he pulls Bucky in for a quick hug. “Good to see you, brother,” Steve says warmly in his ear, and yeah. Bucky will endure the chaos for this. It’s been too long since he’s seen Natasha and Steve and Sam and the others. So what if he has to swim through an ocean of obnoxious people to find them? 

Islands, he thinks, eyes drawn back to the girl reading the book. 

Bucky lifts his chin in her direction. “Who’s that?” 

Steve glances over. “That’s Toni. She’s Nat’s roommate at uni. I guess she was homeschooled her whole life, real sheltered. Nice girl, though. Hey, go get a drink and I’ll see if I can’t get Sam away from the beer pong table. Clint’s around here, too, I think, so keep your eyes peeled for him.” 

With careful, cautious steps, Bucky approaches the table. Toni doesn’t look up from her book, though she does flip the page. Her nails are short and tidy, free of polish. This close, Bucky sees that she’s wearing a sleeveless shirt with a high neck and a skirt that brushes her knees. She couldn’t be more different from the other girls at the party, and she might as well be the antithesis of Nat. 

Curiosity tickles at the back of his brain. What is she reading? he wonders. A glimpse at the open pages shows complex graphs and models that offer him no hint. He’s so busy trying to look at her book out of the corner of his eye that he knocks over a bottle of Jack Daniels. Like dominos, it sends a stack of plastic cups and a cup full of decorative umbrella scattering over the table. 

Cringing, he lets his eyes be drawn back to her. Toni is staring up at him, and then Bucky remembers that he’s not like anyone else at the party either. First he takes in her face: the wide, dark eyes, the straight nose and full mouth. Fuck, she’s young he thinks to himself, feeling like a pervert. Obviously of age if she’s sharing a room with Nat back at NYU, but he wouldn’t doubt that he’s got seven or eight years on her. He’s so busy looking his share and berating himself that he almost misses her expression, the way those big eyes grow round as moons, her mouth dropping open in a near comical expression of disbelief and perhaps disgust. 

Right, Bucky thinks distantly. He’s not the poster boy for sheltered. 

She takes in the tattoo above his left eye, the one of his sister’s name that he’d only gotten earlier in the year on the anniversary of her death. Those dark whiskey colored eyes skirt past his face down to his neck where ink protrudes from above his collar all the way to his cut jaw. He’s grateful that he’s wearing a jacket over his t-shirt, so that she can’t see the tattoos that cover his arms. It doesn’t stop her from eyeing his hands though, the letters tattooed across his knuckles, the UFO and creeping ivy (respectively) on the back of his hands. 

It’s not the first time Bucky’s been stared at this way (like he’s a degenerate, like he’s got three heads) and it won’t be the last; though, he does wonder when it will stop stinging so much. He cuts his eyes away from her, unable to watch her watching him with that look on her face. He fixes the mess he made, restoring everything to its proper spot. Unwilling to turn tail and run—at least, not without a drink—he kneels to open a cooler beneath the table and finds twist-top beer. When he chances looking back up, there’s a complex series of microexpressions playing across Toni’s face, ones that Bucky can’t even begin to interpret. 

At his stare, she mutely lifts her book and presses it flush to her chest as if it is a shield. As if she is afraid of him. 

The cover reads An Introduction to Modern Astrophysics.

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters. 

Her mouth opens and then shuts. She nods, absolving him. He takes that as permission to give her a forced smile and make a prompt exit left stage. Dark eyes burn into his back as he walks aimlessly into the sea of party-goers looking for Steve or Sam or anybody.

-

Nat finds him spectating the game of beer pong (instead of pulling Sam away, Steve had somehow become roped in himself, helping Sam to dig himself out of the hole he’d been slipping into). She’s a breath of fresh air, her red hair wet and dark and plaited down the back of her head, her eyes tired and her smile easy. Bucky doesn’t even mind that she gets him wet during their hug. He’s missed her. 

They spend time catching up and heckling Steve and Sam. 

“What’s the deal with your roommate?” Bucky asks, leaning into her so that he doesn’t have to raise his voice. 

Nat narrows her eyes, seeing straight through him. “Why?”

Bucky shrugs a shoulder and refuses to elaborate. Sam makes a shot and a girl on the other team has to drink, so Bucky lets his eyes rest on the stranger’s bobbing throat just so he has a place to look that isn’t into Nat’s x-ray eyes. 

At last, Nat hums. “She’s an engineering student. Her dad was some big Congressman—I guess he made some controversial moves because she said there were a lot of threats made against him and his family. They kept her home all the time to keep her safe.” Nat leans in, her mouth nearly touching his ear. “She said once when she was little, she was kidnapped for ransom.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky mutters. 

“She’s basically been living under a rock her whole life. A very expensive, luxurious rock.”

Even at risk of saying too much and laying all his cards on the table, he says: “She looked at me like I was a freak.”

Natasha frowns, face going soft and sad. “I’m sorry, J. She’s probably just never seen someone…”

“Like me.”

“She’d be an idiot to judge you for the way you look.”

Bucky smiles a little. “Most people are idiots.”

She can’t deny that. When Steve and Sam finally crush the duo they were up against, the two losers slink away to lick their wounds and leave the end of the table free for new blood. Natasha looks up at him with a smirk. “Think you’ve still got what it takes, Barnes?”

Bucky slips his jacket off his shoulders. The only thing beneath is a white t-shirt, thin enough that the tattoos on his chest and abdomen are just visible through the fabric as dark, teasing  shadows. He knows he’s pale, avoids the sun to keep his ink as fresh as possible. Leaving his jacket on a nearby chair, he says, “Only one way to find out.”

While they’re filling fresh cups with beer, his eyes are drawn to the patio chair on the porch, looking for that dark curtain of hair. Except he finds a tanned, angular face watching him, ducking back down to look at her textbook once she’s caught. 

Bucky turns his eyes away and doesn’t let himself look again. 

-

TONI.

The sun sets, and the moon turns the party-goers into hellions. A fight breaks out between two frat boys over a girl and Steve has to step in to break it up and kick both of them out. Not a half hour later, three police squad cars show up after a noise complaint from one of the other neighbors in the cul de sac. The party is shut down (to Toni’s guilty delight).

She’d moved into the house once the sun had set, unable to read by the twinkling fairy lights that she’d helped Natasha to string around the yard and patio. It was much more comfortable inside among the air conditioning and the luxury. The marble countertops of the kitchen island felt familiar to her. The outdoors with the grass that itched her ankles, the bugs that never stopped shrieking or flying in her ears, and the humidity that made her shirt stick to her bare back—that would never be familiar to her. 

Toni had always been a homebody, willing or not. 

Seated at the kitchen island, she is so short that her feet can’t touch the floor, ankles crossed where they sway gently in the air. Flipping through her textbook without aim, she waits for everyone to be gone so that she can help Natasha pick up and then hopefully sleep in one of the tasteful guestrooms. She’s daydreaming of the comfortable bed, the clean cool sheets against her skin when she hears the sound of the patio door sliding open. 

All fantasies of cool and comfort burn up, combusted by the man who walks in. The man with the tattoos.

He towers above her even seated on the tall island chair the way she is. He’s shed the leather jacket he was wearing (and for good reason too, with the hot, humid weather). Beneath he wears simple jeans in a sinful fit with a white t-shirt that’s nearly see-through, sticking to his skin from sweat. His face is stunning: angular jaw covered in a few days’ stubble, a straight nose, eyes a stormy sea-foam with low brows that make him look intense in a way that has her legs shaking. 

His conventionality ends there. Toni has never seen a man like him in her life. Above one brow is a woman’s name in elegant cursive. His ears have holes in them large enough for her to see through. On his neck are geometric lines reminiscent of honeycombes, disappearing under the collar of his shirt. He’s covered from fingertip to shirt sleeve with designs, her eyes dancing across his pale skin, never able to land for longer than a moment before something else captures her attention. 

He looks like a kindergarteners artwork, she can imagine Howard sneering. Scribbles all over him. Not even worth pinning to the refrigerator.

Toni has seen tattoos before. Happy, her security guard for as long as she could remember, had one on his bicep of his mother’s favorite flower, so. It’s not like Toni wasn’t aware of the things or didn’t believe in their existence. She’s just never seen someone so saturated with them. It’s a stark difference from the people she grew up knowing: stiff public figures in formal clothing who denounced youth culture and considered people with tattoos degenerates. 

He’s everything her father warned her about when she insisted on going to public university under a different last name. He’s so raw. 

He’s so, so beautiful. 

“Sorry,” he says at the sight of her, his neutral expression dropping into something stormier. 

Toni tries to smile, but judging by the way his face grimaces, it isn’t successful. She can feel the way her face begins to burn just from his sheer proximity, so she forces herself to turn back to her textbook and pretend to scan the page. 

Surely he must see through her. She feels attuned to him, hyperaware of the sound of his footsteps on the tile floor, brain working to pinpoint his exact location based on how the sounds shift. When he appears in the corner of her eye, she flinches, everything in her fighting to keep her eyes on her book. Instead of pausing by her, he continues past to the kitchen cabinets, opening them as if he lives there. How does he know where the drinking glasses are, she wonders.

With his back to her, she feels safe enough to let her eyes flicker upwards, though she keeps her head angled downward for maximum deniability should he turn around without warning. The muscles of his arms are lean and powerful. Sculpted of flesh and bone instead of marble. Only reminiscent of Michaelangelo’s David, he conveys more of Barberini Faun: the impressive height and lean strength of him, the low brows hinting at torment. 

Unlike Barberini Faun, there’s nothing overtly sexual about what he’s doing (filling a glass with filtered water from the refrigerator) but Toni finds her back arching in her seat, her sex looking for the blissful pressure it aches for. Toni’s experience with arousal isn’t enough to fill a post-it note with. She’s intimately familiar with erotica, books propped open on her chest with her free hand down between her legs, fingers drifting through her aching folds. At least once a week, she wakes from a hazy, half-formed dream with the urge to roll and wedge a pillow between her legs, to rut against it. There was also that squirming heat that bloomed whenever Natasha stripped her clothes off in the main room of their dorm—but that was nothing Toni was interested in confronting today. 

This man is the first non-fictional person she’s ever experienced such attraction to. Her own naivete is downright sickening. Toni has always prided herself on being knowledgeable and a quick learner, but she has no idea how to make her interest known or how to try to be interesting to him in return. 

Idiot, she thinks to herself, forcing her eyes back down to her textbook. To interest him would require there to be something interesting or excitable about her. All Toni has going for herself in that regard is an IQ in the 160’s. Hardly a trait to lust over. 

The man is refilling his glass when the patio door opens again. Toni’s heart leaps, grateful for anyone or anything to break this invisible tension and also dreading that they might see her embarrassing ineptitude.

It’s Natasha’s boyfriend Steve, his face flushed with drunkenness. He’d been very polite and thoughtful when Natasha introduced them earlier in the day, with an aura about him that could put any person at ease. Toni found her lips quirking up into a smile just at the sight of him, even when his own smile is directed past her. With a half dozen long steps, he’s crossed the kitchen and scooped the man with the tattoos into a bone-crushing hug, water sloshing from the glass over the both of him

Toni notes that tragically it only turns the dark-haired man’s shirt more see-through. She can almost make out whatever image might be inked onto his pale skin beneath—

“Man, I’m so glad you’re back in the city for a while,” Steve says, voice loose but not slurred. He won’t let his friend go and has instead begun an awkward, drunken slow dance with him, shuffling side to side in a way that has Toni pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. The comical expression of exasperated endearment on the other man’s face makes her feel like she’s swallowed a jarful of butterflies.

He pats Steve on the back. “I missed you too, buddy. Buy me dinner though, first.” 

Steve snorts. He pulls back and turns to Toni whose eyes widen fractionally at being caught watching their exchange.

“Hey Toni, have you met Bucky?” 

“Not formally,” she says, heart pounding. She almost sticks out a hand as if he’s a 60 year old lifelong Senator her father has brought home for dinner. Inside one of the deeper tracks of her consciousness, his name whirs in an endless circle: Bucky Bucky Bucky. 

Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but it is lost as more of Natasha’s closest friends enter, taking refuge in the house as the majority of the party are herded off of the property. Apparently they’re going to have a bonfire with just the inner circle left—how the hell Toni has managed to become a member of that inner circle, she has no idea. While she wishes she were tucked away in one of the guestrooms, reading, at least a party of a dozen sounds infinitely more tolerable. 

Not to mention that fewer party-goers automatically raises the chances for interaction with Bucky, an idea she both anticipates and dreads. Glancing up, her eyes are drawn to his figure where he and the others have retired into the living room, only to find that he’s watching her. She can feel the flush in her face as she turns back to her book, leaning over and hoping that the curtain of her hair hides her embarrassment.

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January's New Releases

2021 told 2020 to hold it's beer and what a month January has been! Publishing YA also came out swinging with a slew of new books (many already bestsellers) in what we hope will be another banner year for BIPOC stories. Click below to find books for your TBR list. 

Week of January 5th

The Life I’m In by Sharon G. Flake Scholastic Inc

My feet are heavy as stones when I walk up the block wondering why I can’t find my old self.

In The Skin I’m In, readers saw into the life of Maleeka Madison, a teen who suffered from the ridicule she received because of her dark skin color. For decades fans have wanted to know the fate of the bully who made Maleeka’s life miserable, Char.

Now in Sharon Flake’s latest and unflinching novel, The Life I’m In, we follow Charlese Jones, who, with her raw, blistering voice speaks the truths many girls face, offering insight to some of the causes and conditions that make a bully. Turned out of the only home she has known, Char boards a bus to nowhere where she is lured into the dangerous web of human trafficking. Much is revealed behind the complex system of men who take advantage of vulnerable teens in the underbelly of society. While Char might be frightened, she remains strong and determined to bring herself and her fellow victims out of the dark and back into the light, reminding us why compassion is a powerful cure to the ills of the world.

Sharon Flake’s bestselling, Coretta Scott King Award-winning novel The Skin I’m In was a game changer when it was first published more than twenty years ago. It redefined young adult literature by presenting characters, voices, and real-world experiences that had not been fully seen. Now Flake offers readers another timely and radical story of a girl on the brink and how her choices will lead her to either fall, or fly. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Happily Ever Afters by Elise Bryant Balzer + Bray

Sixteen-year-old Tessa Johnson has never felt like the protagonist in her own life. She’s rarely seen herself reflected in the pages of the romance novels she loves. The only place she’s a true leading lady is in her own writing—in the swoony love stories she shares only with Caroline, her best friend and #1 devoted reader.

When Tessa is accepted into the creative writing program of a prestigious art school, she’s excited to finally let her stories shine. But when she goes to her first workshop, the words are just…gone. Fortunately, Caroline has a solution: Tessa just needs to find some inspiration in a real-life love story of her own. And she’s ready with a list of romance novel-inspired steps to a happily ever after. Nico, the brooding artist who looks like he walked out of one of Tessa’s stories, is cast as the perfect Prince Charming.

But as Tessa checks each item off Caroline’s list, she gets further and further away from herself. She risks losing everything she cares about—including the surprising bond she develops with sweet Sam, who lives across the street. She’s well on her way to having her own real-life love story, but is it the one she wants, after all?

One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite and Maritza Moulite Inkyard Press

ISN’T BEING HUMAN ENOUGH? When teen social activist and history buff Kezi Smith is killed under mysterious circumstances after attending a social justice rally, her devastated sister Happi and their family are left reeling in the aftermath. As Kezi becomes another immortalized victim in the fight against police brutality, Happi begins to question the idealized way her sister is remembered. Perfect. Angelic.

One of the good ones.

Even as the phrase rings wrong in her mind–why are only certain people deemed worthy to be missed?–Happi and her sister Genny embark on a journey to honor Kezi in their own way, using an heirloom copy of The Negro Motorist Green Book as their guide. But there’s a twist to Kezi’s story that no one could’ve ever expected–one that will change everything all over again.

Roman and Jewel by Dana L. Davis Inkyard Press

If Romeo and Juliet got the Hamilton treatment��who would play the leads? This vividly funny, honest, and charming romantic novel by Dana L. Davis is the story of a girl who thinks she has what it takes…and the world thinks so, too.

Jerzie Jhames will do anything to land the lead role in Broadway’s hottest new show, Roman and Jewel, a Romeo and Juliet inspired hip-hopera featuring a diverse cast and modern twists on the play. But her hopes are crushed when she learns mega-star Cinny won the lead…and Jerzie is her understudy.

Falling for male lead Zeppelin Reid is a terrible idea–especially once Jerzie learns Cinny wants him for herself. Star-crossed love always ends badly. But when a video of Jerzie and Zepp practicing goes viral and the entire world weighs in on who should play Jewel, Jerzie learns that while the price of fame is high, friendship, family, and love are priceless.

The Awakening of Malcom X by Ilyasah Shabazz & Tiffany D. Jackson Farrar, Straus and Giroux (Byr)

In Charlestown Prison, Malcolm Little struggles with the weight of his past. Plagued by nightmares, Malcolm drifts through days unsure of his future. Slowly, he befriends other prisoners and writes to his family. He reads all the books in the prison library, joins the debate team and the Nation of Islam. Malcolm grapples with race, politics, religion, and justice in the 1940s. And as his time in jail comes to an end, he begins to awaken — emerging from prison more than just Malcolm Little: Now, he is Malcolm X.

Here is an intimate look at Malcolm X’s young adult years. While this book chronologically follows X: A Novel, it can be read as a stand-alone historical novel that invites larger discussions on black power, prison reform, and civil rights.

When You Look Like Us by Pamela N. Harris HarperCollins

When you look like us—brown skin, brown eyes, black braids or fades—people think you’re trouble. No one looks twice at a missing black girl from the projects because she must’ve brought whatever happened to her upon herself. I, Jay Murphy, can admit that, for a minute, I thought my sister, Nicole, got too caught up with her boyfriend—a drug dealer—and his friends.

But she’s been gone too long now.

If I hadn’t hung up on her that night, she’d be spending time with our grandma. If I was a better brother, she’d be finishing senior year instead of being another name on a missing persons list. It’s time to step up and do what the Newport News police department won’t.

Week of January 12th

Chlorine Sky by Mahogany L. Browne Crown Books for Young Readers

She looks me hard in my eyes & my knees lock into tree trunks My eyes don’t dance like my heartbeat racing They stare straight back hot daggers. I remember things will never be the same. I remember things.

With gritty and heartbreaking honesty, Mahogany L. Browne delivers a novel-in-verse about broken promises, fast rumors, and when growing up means growing apart from your best friend.

The Meet-Cute Project by Rhiannon Richardson Simon & Schuster

Mia’s friends love rom-coms. Mia hates them. They’re silly, contrived, and not at all realistic. Besides, there are more important things to worry about—like how to handle living with her bridezilla sister, Sam, who’s never appreciated Mia, and surviving junior year juggling every school club offered and acing all of her classes.

So when Mia is tasked with finding a date to her sister’s wedding, her options are practically nonexistent.

Mia’s friends, however, have an idea. It’s a little crazy, a little out there, and a lot inspired by the movies they love that Mia begrudgingly watches too.

Mia just needs a meet-cute.

Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0) by Angie Thomas Balzer + Bray

If there’s one thing seventeen-year-old Maverick Carter knows, it’s that a real man takes care of his family. As the son of a former gang legend, Mav does that the only way he knows how: dealing for the King Lords. With this money he can help his mom, who works two jobs while his dad’s in prison.

Life’s not perfect, but with a fly girlfriend and a cousin who always has his back, Mav’s got everything under control.

Until, that is, Maverick finds out he’s a father.

Suddenly he has a baby, Seven, who depends on him for everything. But it’s not so easy to sling dope, finish school, and raise a child. So when he’s offered the chance to go straight, he takes it. In a world where he’s expected to amount to nothing, maybe Mav can prove he’s different.

When King Lord blood runs through your veins, though, you can’t just walk away. Loyalty, revenge, and responsibility threaten to tear Mav apart, especially after the brutal murder of a loved one. He’ll have to figure out for himself what it really means to be a man.

Angel of Greenwood by Randi Pink Feiwel and Friends

Seventeen-year-old Isaiah Wilson is, on the surface, a town troublemaker, but is hiding that he is an avid reader and secret poet, never leaving home without his journal. A passionate follower of WEB. Du Bois, he believes that black people should rise up to claim their place as equals.

Sixteen-year-old Angel Hill is a loner, mostly disregarded by her peers as a goody-goody. Her father is dying, and her family’s financial situation is in turmoil. Also, as a loyal follower of Booker T. Washington, she believes, through education and tolerance, that black people should rise slowly and without forced conflict.

Though they’ve attended the same schools, Isaiah never noticed Angel as anything but a dorky, Bible toting church girl. Then their English teacher offers them a job on her mobile library, a three-wheel, two-seater bike. Angel can’t turn down the money and Isaiah is soon eager to be in such close quarters with Angel every afternoon.

But life changes on May 31, 1921 when a vicious white mob storms the community of Greenwood, leaving the town destroyed and thousands of residents displaced. Only then, Isaiah, Angel, and their peers realize who their real enemies are.

Week of January 19th

Thirty Talks Weird Love by Alessandra Narváez Varela Cinco Puntos Press

Out of nowhere, a lady comes up to Anamaría and says she’s her, from the future. But Anamaría’s thirteen, she knows better than to talk to some weirdo stranger. Girls need to be careful, especially in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico—it’s the 90’s and fear is overtaking her beloved city as cases of kidnapped girls and women become alarmingly common. This thirty-year-old “future” lady doesn’t seem to be dangerous but she won’t stop bothering her, switching between cheesy Hallmark advice about being kind to yourself, and some mysterious talk about saving a girl.

Anamaría definitely doesn’t need any saving, she’s doing just fine. She works hard at her strict, grade-obsessed middle school—so hard that she hardly gets any sleep; so hard that the stress makes her snap not just at mean girls but even her own (few) friends; so hard that when she does sleep she dreams about dying—but she just wants to do the best she can so she can grow up to be successful. Maybe Thirty’s right, maybe she’s not supposed to be so exhausted with her life, but how can she ask for help when her city is mourning the much bigger tragedy of its stolen girls?

This thought-provoking, moving verse novel will lead adult and young adult readers alike to vital discussions on important topics—like dealing with depression and how to recognize this in yourself and others—through the accessible voice of a thirteen-year-old girl.

Your Corner Dark by Desmond Hall Atheneum/Dlouhy

Things can change in a second:

The second Frankie Green gets that scholarship letter, he has his ticket out of Jamaica.

The second his longtime crush, Leah, asks him on a date, he’s in trouble.

The second his father gets shot, suddenly nothing else matters.

And the second Frankie joins his uncle’s gang in exchange for paying for his father’s medical bills, there’s no going back…or is there?

As Frankie does things he never thought he’d be capable of, he’s forced to confront the truth of the family and future he was born into—and the ones he wants to build for himself.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo Dutton Books for Young Readers

“That book. It was about two women, and they fell in love with each other.” And then Lily asked the question that had taken root in her, that was even now unfurling its leaves and demanding to be shown the sun: “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club.

America in 1954 is not a safe place for two girls to fall in love, especially not in Chinatown. Red-Scare paranoia threatens everyone, including Chinese Americans like Lily. With deportation looming over her father—despite his hard-won citizenship—Lily and Kath risk everything to let their love see the light of day.

If I Tell You the Truth by Jasmin Kaur HarperCollins

Told in prose, poetry, and illustration, this heartrending story weaves Kiran’s and Sahaara’s timelines together, showing a teenage Kiran and, later, her high school–aged daughter, Sahaara.

Kiran is a young Punjabi Sikh woman who becomes pregnant after being sexually assaulted by her fiancé’s brother. When her fiancé and family don’t believe her, she flees her home in India to Canada, where she plans to raise the child as a single mother. For Kiran, living undocumented means constant anxiety over finances, work, safety, and whether she’ll be deported back to the dangers that await her in Punjab.

Eighteen years later, Kiran’s daughter, Sahaara, is desperate to help her mother, who has been arrested and is facing deportation. In the aftermath, Kiran reveals the truth about Sahaara’s conception. Horrified, Sahaara encourages Kiran to speak out against the man who raped her—who’s now a popular political figure in Punjab. Sahaara must find the best way to support her mother while also dealing with the revelation about her parents.

We Free the Stars (Sands of Arawiya #2) by Hafsah Faizal Farrar, Straus and Giroux

The battle on Sharr is over. The dark forest has fallen. Altair may be captive, but Zafira, Nasir, and Kifah are bound for Sultan’s Keep, determined to finish the plan he set in motion: restoring the hearts of the Sisters of Old to the minarets of each caliphate, and finally returning magic to all of Arawiya. But they are low on resources and allies alike, and the kingdom teems with fear of the Lion of the Night’s return.

As the zumra plots to overthrow the kingdom’s darkest threat, Nasir fights to command the magic in his blood. He must learn to hone his power into a weapon, to wield not only against the Lion but against his father, trapped under the Lion’s control. Zafira battles a very different darkness festering in her through her bond with the Jawarat—a darkness that hums with voices, pushing her to the brink of her sanity and to the edge of a chaos she dare not unleash. In spite of the darkness enclosing ever faster, Nasir and Zafira find themselves falling into a love they can’t stand to lose…but time is running out to achieve their ends, and if order is to be restored, drastic sacrifices will have to be made.

Lush and striking, hopeful and devastating, We Free the Stars is the masterful conclusion to the Sands of Arawiya duology by New York Times–bestselling author Hafsah Faizal.

Week of January 26th

Written in Starlight (Woven in Moonlight #2) by Isabel Ibañez Page Street Kids

If the jungle wants you, it will have you…

Catalina Quiroga is a Condesa without a country. She’s lost the Inkasisa throne, the loyalty of her people, and her best friend. Banished to the perilous Yanu Jungle, Catalina knows her chances of survival are slim, but that won’t stop her from trying to escape. It’s her duty to reclaim the throne.

When Manuel, the son of her former general, rescues Catalina from a jaguar, a plan forms. Deep in the jungle, the city of gold is hidden, home to the fierce Illari people, who she could strike an alliance with.

But the elusive Illari are fighting a battle of their own—a mysterious blight is corrupting the jungle, laying waste to everything they hold dear. As a seer, Catalina should be able to help, but her ability to read the future in the stars is as feeble as her survival instincts. While searching for the Illari, Catalina must reckon with her duty and her heart to find her true calling, which could be the key to stopping the corruption before it destroys the jungle completely.

The Knockout by Sajni Patel Flux

If seventeen-year-old Kareena Thakkar is going to alienate herself from the entire Indian community, she might as well do it gloriously. She’s landed the chance of a lifetime, an invitation to the US Muay Thai Open, which could lead to a spot on the first-ever Olympic team. If only her sport wasn’t seen as something too rough for girls, something she’s afraid to share with anyone outside of her family. Despite pleasing her parents, exceling at school, and making plans to get her family out of debt, Kareena’s never felt quite Indian enough, and her training is only making it worse.

Which is inconvenient, since she’s starting to fall for Amit Patel, who just might be the world’s most perfect Indian. Admitting her feelings for Amit will cost Kareena more than just her pride–she’ll have to face his parents’ disapproval, battle her own insecurities, and remain focused for the big fight. Kareena’s bid for the Olympics could very well make history–if she has the courage to go for it.

Wings of Ebony (Wings of Ebony #1) by J. Elle Denene Millner Books/Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers

“Make a way out of no way” is just the way of life for Rue. But when her mother is shot dead on her doorstep, life for her and her younger sister changes forever. Rue’s taken from her neighborhood by the father she never knew, forced to leave her little sister behind, and whisked away to Ghizon—a hidden island of magic wielders.

Rue is the only half-god, half-human there, where leaders protect their magical powers at all costs and thrive on human suffering. Miserable and desperate to see her sister on the anniversary of their mother’s death, Rue breaks Ghizon’s sacred Do Not Leave Law and returns to Houston, only to discover that Black kids are being forced into crime and violence. And her sister, Tasha, is in danger of falling sway to the very forces that claimed their mother’s life.

Worse still, evidence mounts that the evil plaguing East Row is the same one that lurks in Ghizon—an evil that will stop at nothing until it has stolen everything from her and everyone she loves. Rue must embrace her true identity and wield the full magnitude of her ancestors’ power to save her neighborhood before the gods burn it to the ground.

[otonymous]

Kinktober Oct 16th (Voyeurism): See (MLQC Lucien - NSFW)

Description: Observant eyes see all, but what happens when the watcher is watched? Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  Trigger warnings: voyeurism, very mild (blink and you’ll miss it) allusions to prostitution, infidelity, and murder, supernatural elements Word Count: 1347 words (~7 mins of spooky smut - it’s really not that scary 😂) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: My third entry for @alloveroliver’s Kinktober challenge and my first foray into something with a supernatural theme, because I LOVE stories about things that go bump in the night 😂

Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, and happy reading! 😊

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

The tedium of days passing, each as uneventful as the last, was more suffocating than the weight that pressed so often upon her:

Balding men nursing glasses of whiskey as they searched for company on demand, scrolling past photos of women with red-slicked pouts, beckoning to be chosen from among countless others with the click of a button.

Secret lovers indulging in afternoon trysts, all quiet whispers and hushed moans smothered by down pillows and feather duvets.  Promises heaped upon promises to just “wait a while longer…until the children are older.”  Empty words left on the doorsteps of broken homes.

Closed in on all sides, she had seen it all.

Until the day he walked through the door.

That man.

He was different.

Entering the room, he had stepped close…so close she could smell him: crisp and sweet, like the freshly mowed lawns she used to run through barefoot on hot summer days.

But his demeanour spoke of far more solemn things than sunshine and chlorine and popsicles melting sugary sweet down fingers and palms.

Dark hair fell over dark eyes, yet still could not conceal the intelligence in that gaze, gleaming with the edge and precision of a scalpel as it swept the room.

And when they rested on the bed, she swore she sensed his hand tightening around the card key, however minuscule the change.

With nothing but time on one’s hands, one learns that the smallest things are often the most significant.

So she shouldn’t have been surprised when he looked at her — turned in her direction until those eyes sharpened into the stare of a predator with prey in its grasp, and she knew that he knew.

Then suddenly, a knock on the door: two soft raps and the man was completely transformed, warm tenderness thawing the ice in his features that chilled her to the bone to be fixed under that glare.  And when he answered, she knew why.

“Lucien, I’m so sorry!  This was the only room left!”

He was deeply, irrevocably, in love with her.  This woman…full of life.

Falling into his open arms, his lover’s smile is radiant when he whispers into her ear, tones gentle and reassuring, speaking as if he didn’t want to be overheard.

Perhaps there was something of the mystic in her, some supernatural power extending from elegant fingertips that moved him — this man named Lucien — in ways that wasn’t readily apparent to the naked eye.  For all it took was a single caress of her hand, thumb moving in affectionate circles about the apple of his cheek, and the other person in the room was forgotten.

She watched the pair, spotlighted under the glow of incandescent lamps.  Felt their desperation in fingers and lips and hands through hair, frustrated by layers of fine-spun wool and silk laying between flushed flesh.

It should have been nothing new.  She had witnessed the act of love, been crushed by the weight of its rhythm, so many times before in this very room that what should have been sacred — or even taboo — no longer held the allure of mystery.

But there was something about this man.

The way his lover writhed in his arms to feel his hand roaming beneath her blouse, the tension coiled in the muscles of his forearm speaking volumes about his self-control; that he continued to stroke soft and slow when lust demanded that fabric be torn to shreds.

The darkness floating beneath the surface of composure, ripples of emotion periodically disturbing the calm, gentlemanly veneer to reveal the beast within, raging to escape and devour.

Yes, there was something different about him, this man named Lucien.  And she was transfixed to gaze upon him.  She simply could not remember the last time she chanced upon someone whose emotions ran so deep.  Pure, even.

Possessive too, if his jealousy was any indication — although his lover would surely laugh if she were to learn the reason why.  That is, if she weren’t frightened by the news to begin with.  So when she moves towards the bed, pulling the blouse over her head, he guides his lover to the sofa instead, leaving no room for argument as he kneels between her legs to run his tongue up the insides of her thighs, hot and wet.

Slipping one finger, then two, past those pretty pink folds to sweep away the remnants of bewilderment with every barely suppressed moan, until the sound of his hand diving slick and deep provided the sole accompaniment to their shuddering breaths.

So she watches, captivated by this man of shadow and light.  She is entranced by the way he moves, sensual and sure, when he brings wet fingers to shiny lips, slipping tapered fingertips into his mouth to savour the flavour of his lover on his tongue.

She stills when his dress shirt unbuttons to unveil muscular perfection; feels herself throbbing to look upon the curves of his buttocks when he steps out of his trousers to reveal a sizeable cock, already hard with need.  

And when that same hand — moist still with spit and his lover’s arousal -languidly traces the length of his shaft, she hungers for the pearlescent drop beading at its tip, wonders how it would feel if his smooth cock were to smear it across her lips, open and waiting.

Then, for one dreaded moment, uncertainty nips at the corners of the fate she thought she had long ago resigned herself to.

Because desire, burning and insistent, made her yearn to be pinned beneath this man, wrists bound together by the press of one large palm above her head.  To taste the salinity of his skin as tongue travelled from tip to beautiful toe.  To feel him bury between her legs…slide slow then thrust fast...until he was absolutely assured that she knew the sincerity of his intentions.

Much in the same way that he worshipped his lover now, hips rolling hard against hers to sink them deeper into the cushions with each frenzied movement.

She had never had a proper lover before.  But this, she imagines, must be what it is like.  How it should be like.

“Ah, Lucien, I…I’m coming…”

The woman’s breathless voice tears her from her reverie, and she is once again observing from without, the beauty of the bodies entwined in passion before her a stinging reminder of all she had lost before she even had the chance to hold it in the palm of her hand. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ll meet you in the lobby, darling,” Lucien says as he lays a kiss at the crown of his lover’s head, watching her with smiling eyes as she left the room, cheeks still beautifully flushed from his attentions.

And then, when all was quiet…he touched her.

Laid his palm atop the bed.  

Soft.  Solemn.  

Comforting.

He pulls away, and she watches him reach for the phone on the bedside table, straining to hear the muted voice of the concierge at the other end of the line.

Hears him — this man named Lucien — say the words that would finally, finally, set her free:

“Could you please send someone up to room number 444?  I’m finding the mattress very uncomfortable.”

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

“What’s wrong?”  Lucien emerges from the bathroom to see the girl sitting on his couch, face completely pale.  He approaches fast, laying both hands on her shoulders when he notices them shaking, directing his gaze to where her finger pointed towards the television screen: yellow tape and the flashing lights of police cruisers.

“They discovered a body at the hotel we were staying in.  Apparently, a set of bones was found stuffed inside a mattress.  I wonder which room…”

Suddenly, the screen goes dark.  The girl looks towards Lucien, already setting the remote control down on the coffee table.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, silly girl.  I’m sure they’re in good hands now.”

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

Thanks so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[always5hineee]

Profit Margin- Chapter 1: The Stage is Set

Chapter warnings: Mild language

Word count: 1181  

Story can be found on the Profit Margin tab on my page, or on Wattpad and Quotev under Taffysamg

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       "Yeahhhhh!" Y/N was screaming along with the hundreds, if not thousands of people on the ground floor of the arena. The lights were glaring and the heat of the bodies around her was pressing in, but the adrenaline rush was more than enough to keep her jumping with energy. Watching her idols in front of her, it was like a dream come true.

       It had taken her ages to come across the opportunity to come to this show. Originally, they weren't even planning on playing in her city. She tried to find a way to afford both concert and plane tickets, but the journey was too much hassle. Devastated, she had come to terms with her lot. That is, until they released an updated concert schedule. They would be so close, she could practically walk to the arena if she tried hard enough!

       Ecstatic, she had pulled together the money to attend in general admissions almost immediately. Lighstick and a small backpack in hand, she walked in as prepared as a fan could be for an event. She was there nearly a full day in advance, more than willing to wait in rain or shine. The people she met in line seemed to feel the same way, antsy to get into the building. Now, her ears were ringing, the floor was vibrating beneath her, and she couldn't be more excited.

       WayV. By no means were they the most popular group, but that didn't matter to her. She knew every one of their songs, learning every lyric she could, no matter the language. She was happy no matter what photocard she got, thankful for whatever albums she could get her hands on. Although the group was fairly new, she started to learn the members' personalities, both from recent content online as well as old clips from other groups they had participated in.

       As the last song came to a close, her eyes were almost watering, whether from physical stress, sadness that it was almost over, or the sheer joy she felt in seeing her idols on the stage, sweating in the heat of the glaring spotlights. Kun, Lucas, Ten, Xiaojun, WinWin, Hendery, YangYang- they were all such beautiful, wonderful people. And she was here, right in front of them! Every time one of them even so much as looked her way, she felt as though she was going to faint.

       "Thank you everyone!" Kun said as one of his bandmates handed him an old-school microphone. "Have a good night!" The crowd went wild as they waved, lights dimming. She could just barely make out their silhouettes leaving the stage as the house lights rose and exiting directions began blaring over the sound system.

       Heart still beating wildly, skin shiny with sweat, lungs gasping for air, and enough adrenaline to run a marathon, Y/N began to follow the masses out the side exits into the gaping corridors of the arena. Having been vacant for the several hours in which the concert was happening, the air was chilly, a stark contrast from the floor. Her muscles began to react to the cold, making her realize just how tired her body was. Feeling the effects of over two hours of nonstop fangirling, she looked up to the directional signs in search of a bathroom.

       Sure enough, the closest one wasn't more than a few exits away. Following the arrows, she came to a door marked with a woman, tucked into a corner behind a cinderblock wall. Assumedly, the men's restroom was on the other side. Surprisingly, even after such a long show, she didn't see any line. Maybe there was a more obvious restroom on the way to the main exit? Regardless, she was thankful for it. Despite having just spent all that time crushed up against strangers, she wasn't really an extrovert. The opportunity to have a moment of alone time before starting her trip home was a welcome one.

       She took her time in the bathroom, sitting in the stall for a minute scrolling through her phone. At least, she thought it was a minute. It was only when the silence started to get to her that she got up, recomposing herself and exiting. Walking up to the bathroom counter, she glanced into the mirror.

       Her makeup was less than stellar, and a thin layer of sweat still graced her face. Her hair was a disaster, as was to be expected post-concert. Laughing to herself, she looked into her own eyes. Imagine if the band members saw her like this? Instinctively, she turned around, but obviously no one was there. This was the women's bathroom, after all. Plus, she had nothing to worry about. She couldn't really afford any insanely expensive meet-and-greets or fansigns, so she would have to settle for as close as she had gotten today. At least she had plenty of videos on her phone, no mater how shaky.

       Washing her hands, she splashed water into her face, cooling her off and getting rid of a bit of the salt that still lingered. She couldn't wait to get home and take a shower. Her feet were beginning to ache from the weight of her body, overworked from the show. Adjusting her clothing, she made sure her bag was secure, looking around for the paper towels. She saw the dispenser, but- it was empty.

       Grossed out by the idea of drying her hands on her sweaty pants, she considered just shaking them off, but the dampness remained. Going back into the stalls to grab toilet paper would practically defeat the purpose of washing her hands to begin with. Sighing, she just decided that she would have to deal with it. She had been in the bathroom for far too long anyway- if she lingered, she may end up getting locked inside the arena!

       Putting her hand under her shirt to open the doorhandle, she reached out tiredly. At that moment, her vision went black. Surprised and scared, she realized that it was because something was over her face, dragging her backwards as she tried to regain her footing on the grungy tiles.

       "Hey! What the fuck!" She started yelling. "Don't fucking mess with me, I have a pepper spray in my-" She started to say, before another weight clenched on her mouth. Feeling something leathery slide across her tongue, she bit down in a panic, causing the thing to retract.

       "Fuck! The stupid bitch bit me!" She heard a male voice say.

       "Suck it up, you have gloves on. Now knock her out and let's move!" A second said. Knock her out? Eyes widening under the covering, she took in a deep breath to screech. Rather than oxygen, though, her lungs were quickly filled with a different gas. It smelled sort of like chlorine, and left a sickly-sweet taste in her mouth. Against her will, she felt her eyelids growing heavy. She had been drugged.

       She felt her knees fall out from under her as she sank to the ground, unable to do anything...

Go to Chapter 2

[thewolfswriting]

Tear You Apart Chapter 5

A/N: Left a clue in the beginning. Let's see who can guess it first. Anyway, I got a little too carried away with the smut...

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Warnings: Blood, More Sexual Content, Profanity, Spanking, Dubcon

Word count: 1,667

Tag List: @1998--js @allabouthargrove @amarachoren @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @bangtan-serendipity @billysgodcomplex @billy-spit @charmed-asylum @crazygirl3001 @cynthianokamaria @deepmuffinspymaker @dreamwavej @hplotrfan @jojo-buttercup @kisseskitty @obsessive-aspie-girl @okaybutsteveharrington @mamasavespunk @nintendhoes-3ds @rosealicous @savagesuccubus @slither-in-a-half @speedmetalqueen @thatpunkmaximoff @vickilove23 @writings-of-desire  @xxemoluverxx 

---

Two days. Two days since the event of what happened at the steel mill. Everything still remained inside your head, but everything that happened after was almost a blur. The marks on your wrists from the rope were faint, but still noticeable. Even though the marks on your neck and inner thigh faded you still felt like you were burning. His scent lingered stronger than ever on your body. You fully belonged to him.

That wasn't the only thing. You felt different, it's like something inside your mind was trying to tell you. It's like your inner Omega was too trying to tell you something wasn't right.

Two days. Two days since the event of what happened at the steel mill. Everything still remained inside your head, but everything that happened after was almost a blur. The marks on your wrists from the rope were faint but still noticeable. Even though the marks on your neck and inner thigh healed you still felt like you were burning. His scent lingered stronger than ever on your body. You fully belonged to him.

That wasn't the only thing. You felt different, it's like something inside your mind was trying to tell you. It's like your inner Omega was too trying to tell you something wasn't right.

Thunder crashed through as a blanket of dark clouds surrounded the sky. It wasn't a normal pool day as a storm was coming.

"We're not here to swim or get electrocuted. We found this." That voice sounded familiar.

"That's Heather's. I'll get it back to her." Josh said in a stern voice.

"We could give it back to her."

"You could. Except she's not here. She bailed on me today."

You turned around as your ears perked up as soon as the words left your co-worker's mouth. It wasn't like Heather to miss any days, she wouldn't just "bail" without saying something. But then it dawned on you, Billy wasn't present either and you tried not to think of it as a coincidence. But it was wasn't it?

The two girls turned around and spotted you standing there. You realized the voice belonged to Billy's step-sister Max, a little Alpha. Beside her a brunette haired girl, El, you thought her name was, a Beta. Her eyes flashed bright blue for a brief minute. It made you wonder if she knew you'd been marked and scented by Billy. Unfortunately for you, she did.

---

"You almost had her. How could you let her get away?"

"You're in no position to ask questions!" Billy snarled at Heather.

Yes, Billy let Y/N get away when she took the opportunity to hit him with a pipe. But deep down, he didn't want to hurt her, she's his mate. Why would he want to? Billy let her get away on purpose and for one specific reason. Was it the desire he has for her? Or was it something else? Guess the so called "crush" turned into something more.

"Fine. Then I'll do it myself." Heather should've known she's playing with fire by saying that.

Billy's eyes flashed golden-yellow and black "You won't touch her! Nobody touches her!"

If Billy wasn't going to hurt her. Why would he let anyone else?

---

"Y/N, you okay?"

You still felt the burning sensation where the marks were on your skin. The marks healed, so why is your skin still burning?

You flinched away as Josh's hand touched the small of your back "Um, yeah. I'm fine. See you Monday?"

He only smiled and nodded before leaving so you could get in your car and start the engine. When you got home you were relieved to see your parents car in the drive way. Maybe you could actually feel safe at home for once.

Your mother greeted you on the stairs as you walked in the door "Y/N, how was your day?" I didn't hear you come in.

"I-it was okay. Just short staffed." You said walking past her up the stairs."

"Are you all right, sweetheart?"

You turned around to look at her "Yeah, I'm okay. Night Mom."

Before she could say anything else you hurried to your bedroom and grabbed a t-shirt and shorts before going to the bathroom for a shower. You took your time to get all the chlorine and whatever else there was off your body. After you dried off with a towel you changed in the clothes you picked out and headed to your room. You shiver as it grew cold all of a sudden and hear a faint dripping sound behind you. Unfortunately for you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning around, gasping at the horror that stood before you. There stood Billy. Blood covered his shirt as the liquid stained his arms and dripped down his hands.

"Billy, who's blood is that? What happened? What did you do?" Your voice came in a whisper with a hint of fear.

He stalked towards you "He touched you. You let him touch you. I took care of it." His eyes flashed golden-yellow and black.

Just as you grabbed the door knob he was behind you in a flash and grabbed a fist full of your hair and tossed you to the bed on your stomach. As you tried to crawl away a surprise yelp ripped from your mouth as he dragged you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He placed a hand to the small of your back to keep you in place as he ripping your shorts from your body.

"Billy, please." You whimpered.

As you still attempt to squirm away from him he lands two hard spanks to your ass which still your movements. His cock starts to grow hard as he grabs the flesh in his hands and squeezes before giving you another spank. You try to ignore the slick of your arousal between your legs as his hand lands against your ass with no mercy. A growl rumbles from his chest for two reasons, one being the outline of his hand print turning red and two of the fact that you whimper pitifully every time he grabs the flesh in his hands. He lands another spank to your ass before pausing and taking in the sight, his cock now fully hard.

You tense as Billy's hands lower to your thighs and pushes them open and whine when he pulls your cheeks open to get a better look between your legs.

Two of his fingers traveled between your legs and rubs over your entrance and up your slit "Look at you. So wet for your Alpha. So submissive."

You absolutely hated how responsive your body is to his touch. It was bad enough you're still swollen and raw from all the times he fucked you senseless.

The sound of him removing his belt fills your ears as he undoes the button and pulls down the zipper of his jeans "Sit up and face me."

As you do what you're told your now facing his cock and your eyes widen, you knew exactly what he wants you to do. You watched as he shoved his jeans down his hips and removing his blood stained shirt before grabbing the back of your neck and thrusting your face forward. An expression of humiliation and shame flooded your face as you used your hand to stroke his shaft up and down, feeling his cock pulse in your hand as you swipe your thumb over the head. His hips thrusted forward as you stuck your tongue out to lick up and down his shaft before swirling your tongue over the head before hesitantly parting your lips and taking a few inches of him in. He let you slowly move your way down the few inches of him in your mouth before gathering your hair in his hand and forcing another couple inches of his cock in your mouth, chuckling darkly when the head hit the back of your throat. As you opened your mouth more he tightened his grip on your hair to move your head up and down his cock, occasionally forcing himself down your throat.

His cock began to throb as you swallowed around him, his balls beginning to tighten "Fuck, Omega I'm gonna cum."

Billy thrusted forward while still forcing your mouth up and down his cock, groaning and grunting as his cum shot down your throat. He pulls you away from his cock and leans down to capture your lips with his in a harsh kiss before tossing you back on the bed and spreading your legs wide and with one forceful thrust he's completely inside you. He's so deep you feel the head of his cock bump against your cervix, it's painful yet pleasurable. But he doesn't move yet. He stills to feel your walls stretch and pulse around him as he pins you down with a hand to your stomach. As he relentlessly thrusts against your walls your back involuntarily arches off the bed as his thumb glides along your clit. You could do nothing but try and hold back the whimpers and moans as he reached forward and grabbed at your breasts, pinching, twisting, and pulling at a nipple while his thumb continued the assault on your clit as he continued his thrusts. As your body began to tremble from the pleasure as your orgasm began to build, he covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the wail as your orgasm consumed your trembling body. He plunged his cock against your walls for a final time, pressing the head of his cock tightly against your cervix as every last drop of his seed spilled inside you.

He slowly pulls out before pulling his jeans back up and peering down at you "I want you to remember this night. I want you to remember what happens when someone else touches you."

You closed your eyes for a brief moment preparing for whatever else was coming. But when you opened your eyes, he was gone.

---

When you woke that morning you didn't feel right. Your body didn't feel right. There was something wrong with you and yet, it's painful.

"Are you okay?" Nancy could sense the pain radiating off your body as you clenched an arm at your abdomen.

You desperately tried to hide the pain "Yeah. I'm sure it's nothing."

As you tried to stand the pain intensified. You felt the burning as you dropped to your knees almost screaming in pain. The last thing you heard was Nancy's voice as everything went black.