#and no this is not me whining or whatever. could i care less? yea

[kahin]

yeah after reading thru a lot of this book (no i didnt read thru the whole thing) . yeah i can safely say a little life IS in fact just trauma porn. ppl who argue otherwise r kind of stupid bc the idea behind yanagihara writing it is "trauma that you can never recover from" but its . weird because like. people in jude's life DO care about him? he does get better at some point and then it was just. soooo cheap the way she killed off willem to force a plot point where wuh oh! see jude really can never get better because now he kills himself . are you crying yet. are you. are you. it says nothing deep the way the dialogue is written between harold and jude re: jude's self harming habits and even just some of the conversations between him and willem feel.... fanfic-esque. did i cry a bit at the ending? yeah i did. but it wasnt because i genuinely felt anything for the character i literally had enough. i'm sorry you can write a book regarding sexual abuse / drug use / whatever the fuck other heavy subject without beating your reader over the head with it. you can write a story where the main character does go through all that suffering without it feeling like misery shoved straight down your throat for 600+ pages. i feel so sick to my stomach in a way i haven't felt in years. do not read this book. final rating: 1/5.

[i-live-in-spite]

You're his favourite book

Summary: Spencer eats you out Pairing: Sub/munch Spencer x GN! reader Genre: Smut Tw/Cw: Reader has an afab body but pretty neutrals on terms/nicknames, pretty laxed sub/dom relationship, degrading names (Spencer receiving), face sitting/oral(rem receiving), praise(Spencer receiving), slight hair pulling, corn with lots of plot Word Count: 652

Spencer hated going on cases, hated getting calls where he can hear your hand working you close to an orgasm but you just need to hear his voice. Don’t get him wrong, he loves when you use him and you always offer to stay up to help him. But the calls end in a couple different ways, him cumming in his pants, him unable to get his release because his hand just isn’t you, or the call was supposed to be a punishment for him bratting or catching slight attitudes with you due to him being sleepy or hungry from working his long cases. But when he finally dropped his bags at the door and started to walk to the bedroom he didn’t expect to see you riding his new pillow. The pillow just barely had the chance to gain his scent but you needed him and he was more than happy to oblige. You order him on the bed and he’s quick to start undoing his tie but you cut him off and tell him to lay. He lays happily watching you strip off your underwear, the evidence you already came once is present with the small string of slick on your legs. “Please, please baby. I need you, I need you on my face please.” His soft begs are loud in your ears, how does someone who put away criminals beg like such a pretty slut. Hearing his whines could make your legs give out but it wouldn’t matter much as Spencer quickly pulls you down on his face. The moment his tongue comes into contact with the sensitive bud of your body he’s already squirming and trying to swallow you whole. He couldn’t get enough, even in the three plus years of dating he acts as if he has never drank from your sweet waterfalls. Not that he’ll ever catch you complaining about the works of his tongue, your hips have a mind of their own as you grind down on his face. In a moment of clarity you quickly grab his glasses and put them on. If your boy genius wasn’t so caught up on getting hydrated he would explain how wearing glasses that weren’t your prescription could be harmful. He speeds his efforts up multiple notches feeling a sense of claim with his glasses, his hands wrap around your thighs. His hands press you further down on his face, his tongue started on double time working itself inside your cavern, trying to map out every nook and cranny that was your insides. No gag in the world could hold in your moans not like Spencer would put one on you, his cock throbs in his pants. His underwear is definitely stained with his precum, though he couldn’t care any less his face was pressed between his favourite book. “Fuck baby boy, your mouth is so good. Might just be one of my favourite things about you. Oh yea just like that” You run your freshly done nails down his scalp and you could feel his tongue stutter as he moans. As much as you loved his hands, he was so in love with your hands in his hair, playing and pulling. Whatever you would give him. He spreads your legs the best he could, so he could squeeze his tongue in, hitting all your gooy spots. Before you knew it your orgasm had hit you like a train, your legs started to tense and squeeze on Spencer's face as he continued to lap you up like a dog. You force yourself off of his face and he whines from the loss of contact. You only chuckle and lick your slick off of his cheek, his face follows you craving your love. You offer him a quick kiss before going into the closet and pulling Spencer's favourite box out. “Can you tell me the safe word, pretty boy?”

---

[hearted-anon]

Tickletober Day 9: Playful

Words: 1061

Note: these two

T/w: none

Lee: Seungmin

Ler: Minho

“Ugh, where did you come from?” Seungmin groaned as he felt arms wrap around him from behind, the sweat of his shirt sticking from the bear hug. Practice had made him into a puddle of nothing, back feeling like it was going to break after countless rounds of dancing ‘JJAM’. Who even came up with a choreography that required him to look like he was vibrating in place, did Hyunjin make this dance?! He had thought that Minho would be coming up with a new way to cause chaos to their dear leader, but it seems that he had different plans for the vocalist today.

“I came from practice, we all did, didn’t we?” Minho hums, almost nonchalantly as he ignores the way Seungmin begins to mutter curses under his breath, swaying them from side to side as if they were in a romantic serenade, except that the other was about to blow up if Lee Know didn’t detach himself from the vocalist in the next millisecond. It felt like he was being purposely more annoying today, the heat of his body completely encasing his frustrations that practically radiated red of Seungmin, so Minho took it upon himself to lighten the mood with a little playful banter.

“Don’t play coy with me now, hyung. Just let me go, I don’t have time for your games- hey!” Seungmin grumbled underneath his breath, something that Lee Know had grown accustomed to and now completely ignored with the same cheeky smile on his face. Seeing that the vocalist was clearly growing annoyed by his playful shenanigans, he lifted the younger off the ground, carrying him to wherever he decided for today; he had chosen the cooling living room where he switched on every air conditioner and fan possible.

“Yea yea, whatever, let hyung take care of you the one time in his life he decides to.” Minho playfully snaps back a snarky reply, but his actions are bleeding through the seams of his true intentions. The older male had already pat Seungmin’s remaining sweat dry with a towel, placed his favourite snacks on the table, and even was spoon feeding him a glass of water with a straw, hand under chin to make it even worse. As much as the younger felt the blood rising to his cheeks already at how embarrassing it was to be babied as such, he leaned into the affection no less, completely exhausted and just in need of this to pick him up.

“Now that’s out of the way, c’mon, I’ll give you the real treat of today~” The moment the puppy caught sight of the playful gleam in the bunny’s eyes, he already had a dreadful sense in his stomach that was sinking lower and lower each second. Oh, he didn’t like where this was going. However, before he could even react or move an inch, two arms locked around his waist and pulled the vocalist flush against the dancer, cursing his fast reflexes. Minho just wiggled his eyebrows in all his mischievousness, before gently pinching up and down the vocalist’s sides.

“Aha- S-Stop it! Hyuhung!” Seungmin already began to plead, letting out a plethora of squeaks with each tiny but not painful pinches delivered to his sides, squirming in the older’s lap like a fish out of water. But if the cuddling wasn’t enough, Minho’s legs seemed to have a mind of their own, beginning to wrap themselves around the puppy’s waist, locking them in and holding him captive in his position, left to writhe under the ticklish torment.

“See? You’re cheering right up! I knew my method would work!” Minho exclaimed in an almost faux enthusiastic tone, snickering when the vocalist just whined loudly in protest to his claims. Scanning around the younger’s body, he began to quickly run his fingers up and down his waist, like spiders crawling all around his torso. Seungmin shrieked at the new sensation, hands flying to cover and protect his sensitive waist in an instant. But no matter where he covered, the older seemed to find a new spot to tickle at, making his attempts hopeless.

“Ahahaha! Leheheave me alohohone!” Seungmin gets out through desperate giggles, but finds the weight on his shoulders lifting with each little giggle he lets out, cheeks beginning to become a soft cherry red hue from all the laughter. Noticing that his playful method of a cheer up was finally beginning to wield some results, it just spurred Minho on to continue for even longer, trying to avoid anything to do with his stomach or armpits though; he didn’t need to break his eardrums or get smacked by a flying limb or two today.

“Leave you alone? But you’re having so much fun, and I’d hate you to leave…” Minho cooed sweetly, now travelling his fingers up and digging them into each individual rib, not before swinging his arms under Seungmin’s, forcing the puppy to be in a position where his arms were practically useless, hanging limb over Minho’s as he endured the oncoming tickling, head thrown back into the older’s chest with his mouth wide open as he practically laughed his head off. No matter how much he protested, thrashed or pleaded, the older almost looked like he had a mind of his own, completely ignoring the fervent begging to stop and continuing the torturous tickles.

“Arghahaha p-plehease! Mehercy!” Seungmin begged, weakly smacking at the hands that were playfully tormenting his ribs, completely having given up the fact that he was actually able to get away. His entire mind felt like mush, the only thing that he felt like being told was that to laugh, over and over again under the surprisingly soft touches from the older, given his rough nature. Seeing that the puppy probably had already had enough, Minho removed his arms from under the younger, smiling at the mess he made. Blush was running all the way to his neck, eyes lidded in tiredness along with his body almost falling into the older’s lap like it was made of jelly, extracting an amused giggle from the older. Humming a soft tune, Lee Know simply ran a hair through the mushroom of hair, watching at how quickly Seungmin was to knock out.

Maybe Seungmin would ask for more cheer ups like this, even if the playful way of doing so was embarrassing.

[kny-agere]

Hi, if possible, could I request Little Douma and Daki with Cg Gyutaro? If possible, could it be a scenario where Daki and Gyutaro don't know that Douma regresses, but Douma ends up regressing whilst trying to help Gyutaro look after Daki whilst she was regressed, and he also ends up regressing? Sorry if this was too specific, and of course, you do not have to write this if you do not want to.

Ok I hope this meets ur needs!! It’s less of a “omg he regresses??” and more so a natural evolution because I think Gyutaro wouldn’t be too surprised if he’s already familiar with Daki + I think ot suits Douma’s personality lol

★彡☆彡★彡

“You’re supposed to be helping watch her, not making messes too!” Gyutaro has always been a bit of a stickler for the rules. His rules at least. The man is happy to let Daki break whatever rules he sees as useless but the moment she crosses some arbitrary line he reins her in.

Douma never cared for much of that. He has little constraint as it is, when he’s allowed to indulge he does so happily. Currently he’s helping Daki spread paint over the walls.

“It’s a lot more funner like this though! And I think Daki-chan would agree right?”

“Yea! He lets me do whatever I want instead.”

The two laugh in unison. Douma draws a very squiggly figure with sharp teeth and messy hair that’s probably meant to be Gyutaro.

His snarl deepens. “Ah but now you’ve gotten her nice kimono all dirty, and it’s hard to get paint out.” With Gyutaro it’s always hard to tell if he’s being spiteful or genuine. Most of the time it’s a strange combination of both.

Pausing the girl looks down at the delicate silk over her front. There’s smears over the folds and where the sleeves sometimes slip over her hands. The paint is a bold green against the purple fabric. Almost immediately tears well up in her eyes. Like a tsunami her sadness engulfs the room immediately. “Douma-sama! Why would you d-do that. This was my, my favorite one an’ now it’s all ruined!” Her voice goes up three octaves as sobs bubble up between her words.

For all his faults the blond does look genuinely sorry. He tries to soothe Daki, offering to buy her new clothes, but she’s decided that this one is irreplaceable. Though there’s likely a dozen other that look nearly identical sitting in her large dresser her mind is hyper-focused on the now.

It’s easy for Gyutaro to soothe her. He makes soft promises until she’s no longer screaming. “This is why we gotta listen to the rules ok? Next time are you gonna listen?”

Daki still sounds rather sullen as she delivers a quiet, “yes.”

“Why don’t we change our clothes and then we can have a nap.”

“Okay.”

He picks the girl up, turning around to find Douma. When the man isn’t immediately in sight he frowns. After circling the room he places his sister back down. “Wait here for a second.” Before she can complain he’s already stepping away.

Climbing upwards he pushes his way into the attic. It’s the most obvious spot unless Douma wants to be accosted by hordes of curious women. (Which on second thought it does sound like something he’d enjoy.) The blond os spread out in the corner. His face is almost melting into the rough wood flooring.

With little care Gyutaro nudges the man’s side with his foot. In return he receives a very petulant, “go away.”

“Stop whining, you were the one making a mess.”

“I was jus’ having fun!” When Douma sits up his face is an usual splotchy red. It’s unusual for him at least, Daki often sports the look shortly before any of her tantrums. “I don’t see why you always have to make me look bad.” His tone lacks any of its typical cheeriness.

“We can have fun but that doesn’t mean we can break rules either.” Gyutaro crouches down to get on the man’s level. “And if you wanna keep coming over you gotta listen too.”

“…Okay.”

Grateful for his demonic strength the younger man scoops Douma into his arms. Immediately his mood brightens. “Oh I’ve never been carried before! Well, once ‘kaza-dono did, but that was only so he could throw me after. But this is much nicer-”

“And you gotta be quiet too because I’m gonna make Daki nap.”

In a poorly hushed tone he continues. “You didn’t say me though! So I get to keep playing right? I’ll even follow the rules, well most of them anyways.”

“All of them,” Gyutaro insists. There’s no room for argument in his voice but Douma attempts anyways.

“I’ll try! I’m not very good at ‘membering things though. And technically I’m still higher ranked than you so if I wanted to I could-“

“Stop raising your voice!”

When they enter the room again Daki has changed (not into pajamas, instead haphazardly putting on another kimono that isn’t tied well) and is eagerly waiting their arrival. “I don’t wanna go to bed anymore! If you guys are playing then I am too.”

Before Gyutaro can shut down the idea Douma is suggesting dozens of games and the two are all riled up. He’s not sure if he’ll survive the night.

[iove33]

Fem!Reader x D.M.

(Yall im not British so the most British your gonna get from me is the occasional “bloody hell”)

“Fuck “ I muttered getting up from bed turning off the annoying ass alarm that went off every day (other than the days I faked sick or was ac sick 😁) * I rubbed my eyes walking to my closet grabbing the uniform and heavy robe throwing it into my bed , I sat down at my vanity putting brushing my hair after taking them out of the heat less curler I had used last night “worked like a charm “ I smiled seeing the pretty curls that had bounced out when I took of the curler . I brushed my hair putting it into a low poney taking a few baby strands out to help frame my face * I stood back up slipping on the white button up then the vest that had small slithers of green and grey as representation for my house,I slipped on the black skirt then the rest of the uniform the tie the socks the shoes “good enough “ * I shrugged sitting back down putting on my favorite mascara and then lip gloss taking it with me just in case I slipped on my messenger bag and was ready to go I peeked over to see if me roommate was done “pansy you ready?” I asked knowing she wasn’t “uhhhh…almost! “ she said just now putting on her uniform, I checked my watch sitting on the bed waiting for my friend to finish so we could get breakfast at the great hall “ geez I always tell you to wake up earlier “ I sighed “I need my beauty sleep why don’t you just go I’ll be there in a little” she said probably annoyed by being pestered “ok hurry though “ I muttered walking out to the common room my eyes narrowed seeing the annoying snake like guy I’ve been arguing with sense 1st year I rolled my eyes walking past him briskly “not gonna say hello ?” He asked in a cocky voice looking up at me just as I passed behind him “I’ll say hello to you when you’re not an asshole “ I scoffed looking down at him blankly . He looked at me as I traced his face for his normal scowl but it was a different face , a face that told me he was planning something “don’t look at me like that * I stated getting an unsettling feeling “ I can look at you however I damn well please .” He retorted making me roll my eyes before hearing a strangely energetic pansy walk down the stairs “oh y/n your not at the great hall yet? No matter we can go together “ she practically coed . We walked to the great hall sitting at the slytherin table , “ugh I have potions first class” I groaned to pansy remembering who taught it before grabbing an apple to munch on “what do you have first class” I asked taking a bite out of the green apple “ I got care of magical creatures with hagrid” she chimed in excitement “ oh yea their bringing in a whatever it’s called a bucklebeack?” “ buckbeak” she corrected taking a bite of his waffle “ so is that the reason your so giddy today or is someone on you mind “ I grinned nudging her she blushed a bit smiling holding a finger to her lips “I’ll tell ya later “ she grinned going back to her waffle “ ugh no fair “ I whined finishing my apple grabbing another for later “I gotta go I don’t wanna be late to snapes class “ I shivered at the thought for theatrics getting up walking to potions class but getting stopped by a certain blonde fucking with some poor 1st year “malfoy can’t you mess with somone your own size or are you just that weak” I folded my arms cocking my head at him “ just keeping them in their place” he grinned “no, your just being an asshole “ I said grabbing out my wand “ you know you love me “ he said that cocky look still on his face letting the first year go allowing me to let out the breath I was holding putting away my wand “ whatever I need to go to potions “ I said scowling at him as he followed me to the class . We walked in …to hear silence and see snap already there..” y/n,draco your late. You’ll be sitting in the front and you have detention after school today “ he said in a harsh tone “but..!” I said trying to find excuse “ unless you have a ‘valid’ excuse “ he said making sure to underline valid for us “ fine “ I muttered siting at the table he had assigned us.

Uh very short I’m bored now so this is pt one idk if I’ll do pt 2 🤷‍♀️ not proof read AGAIN never proof reading sorry 😘

[kiss4kazu]

ooh! can i request something spicy?? maybe headcanons of claude, dimitri, and felix’s kinks?

spicy hcs | dimitri, felix, claude

this is combo between just kink hcs and also how first times being freaky w these three go hahhahahahhahah screams. this is not safe for kiddos so proceed with caution folks 

felix <3 

whew, okay. sweats. um 

so the first time u and felix do the do was definitely not planned. things tend to escalate a lot with felix when it comes to intimacy. pecks goodnight lead up to make out sessions and all of a sudden his hand is down your pants and you’re honestly not complaining. 

felix is definitely more of a giver than a receiver, not because he liked giving, but because he liked being in control. he liked seeing you writhe beneath him and all that jazz. 

he’d definitely deny you from reaching your high multiple times, partially to draw out the activity since you tend to come quite quickly beneath his touch but also because hearing you whine his name helplessly was a really big fucking turn on and he always swelled with pride knowing he was the only person who can turn you into a sobbing mess. 

felix has 2 moods. his soft and pliant types of fucking, and his arrogant, i’m big bad felix fraldarius and my cock is 30inches long type of fucking. he knows hes hot, he knows he has a pretty dick, might as well utilize it.

he hates praise when it’s ingenuine, for things intangible that he hadn’t earned himself. when it’s people praising him for his title or the power of a fraldarius battalion. 

but praise when it comes from you? when it’s you letting him know just how amazing he feels inside of you, how with every thrust of his hips your brain short-circuits and your eyes water with unspilled tears? when it’s you not being able to even form coherent words anymore because felix fraldarius is throbbing inside of you... yeah, that kind of praise. it does wonders for him and his dick. 

he’s also into hair-pulling

and overstimulation

hes also rly rly easily jealous like if someone else was making eyes with you or perhaps you were giggling a little too loudly with some handsome noble he’d just yank you away and march u up the stairs to his dormitory before kissing you hard 

he’s the type to make u beg and be rly possessive he’d just fuck you so ruthlessly hair stuck to his skin, panting “you’re mine. mine. say it” and u would just cry bc why tf he so sexy hello-

as mentioned in my kissing post, felix sucks the life out of you when he kisses you so it’s only logical that he fucks the life out of you too.  

im kidding ofc!! not rly

although he’s on the giving end of things, it’s still completely self-indulgent, felix gets off just knowing he’s getting you off because he’s a sexy narcissist like that. 

but on some days, he really really wanted you to know he cared a lot about you. 

felix isn’t the best with words, but he was really good with his tongue, so things usually worked out okay. he’d kiss you, everywhere. every inch of you, leaving hickeys in even the most visible places because who fucking cares. you were his, he needed you to know that. he needed everyone to know that. 

he can be sensitive sometimes too, make love, if you will. 

he has to be rly emotional tho, so it’s probably after something eventful happens in his life. like when the kingdom takes back fhirdiad, or wins the war. or when he’s sleepy and tired and wakes up hard and is just too lazy to put on his big bad scary persona. 

sleepy felix is submissive felix, aka my favorite felix. sleepy horny felix is all whiny and blushy and just wanted to come and he absolutely despised himself for it

you were well aware of how much he hated himself for being soft and needy, but that made teasing him all the more fun.

so yes, some nights felix would fuck you brainless and soak in the sound of your voice crying out his name helplessly. but on other nights, felix would lay down, his hair splayed against the pillow, your fingers twirling his locks and tugging gently as your other hand jerked him off, lips pressed against his as you breathed in his whines and grunts.

hearing him whine was a really rare sight, but it did slip out occasionally, when you squeezed the base of his member unexpectedly or when you took him deep into your throat and swallowed around him. felix really likes fucking your mouth. 

yeah felix is an emotionally constipated sex god 

claude ! 

whew lord. 

ok so claude, my sweet, cheeky, little shit <3 

the first time probs wasnt even intentional with him either he was just teasing you a little too much and things got a bit carried away but it’s a great time nonetheless

doing the do with claude is probably a rollercoaster ride, he would literally never shut up and would just say the most stupid things and you’d hate yourself for still being so desperate for his touch because somehow in between his terrible jokes and merciless teasing he whispered complete filth into your ears.

he’s a master of dirty talk, chuckling against the shell of your ear at the sound of you choking out a sob at his words, tugging at your earlobe just to spur you on even further. 

“don’t tell me you’re clocking out already?” you’d just glare at him in frustration despite your flushed cheeks and he’d kiss you on the tip of your nose and laugh in amusement at your misery 

he’ll literally do everything but fuck you, covering every inch of your skin in love bites, especially your chest. he’d literally eat you out or suck you off until you were dizzy but if you want him inside of you, he’d definitely make you beg. 

if you ever tried to get smart with him… um, he’d uh .. p-punish you 

not like in a pain kink type of way he’d just pull out right before you could nut and would laugh maniacally in your face afterwards because that’s what you get for being a smart ass ! denying u from coming is basically how he punishes u so its a pretty long night but claude’s really really good with his tongue so you’re guaranteed to come like 3 times at minimum anyways

he’d devour you, all smirks and with eyes filled with mirth and he wouldn’t give in until you were absolutely wrecked under him. 

he’s very um… dominant, i would say

but not an aggressive dom, definitely a playful dom who enjoys edging and teasing a bit too much 

he’s also pretty experimental, i can see claude as a bit of an exhibitionist also, he’d probably fuck you in the cathedral just for shits and giggles 

but he is human and despite how much of  a little shit claude is he’s just as wrecked as you he’s just much better at hiding it 

he’d probs quit the teasing once he himself can’t handle it anymore

and wow uh thats when claude gets all sensual 

when claude’s kind of in overdrive and completely uncoordinated just messily thrusting over and over again to finally get you both to that place thats when he becomes all romantic and lovey 

would compliment you to no amounts end, call you all sorts of pet names like honey, sweetheart, baby, etc. 

his messy curls would stick to his skin, his forehead pressed firmly against yours, verdant eyes blown wide maintaining eye contact with you just for that extra level of intimacy because watching you when you’re like this really drives him over the edge. 

he’d pant against your lips, kiss you roughly and somehow find it in himself to even let out an amused laugh because he’s having sex and that’s kind of funny for some reason

claude’s pull-out game probably a1 but idk he’s possessive in less conventional ways so i feel like he’d  get off to the thought of releasing inside you and watching him drip down your thighs bc yea

claude is also the king of aftercare let it be known

he’d have so much energy after sex for some reason like he’d just hop right up clean your bodies, fetch you tea if you wanted some and curl up with you resting on his chest, running his fingers over the skin of your arms tenderly and smiling softly to himself when exhaustion takes over you and you slip into a warm slumber against his chest. 

i love him bye

dima 

ok so dimi is a busy busy boy and even when he does have free time he’s never entirely there his mind is always kind of somewhere else u know 

he’s always struggled w getting a proper night's rest and always overworks himself into hysteria

so, as his lovely s/o, you presume a nice session to destress will help loosen those knots in his muscles and all that chaos whirring around in his mind

you were thinking a nice trip to the sauna or something

but dimi had other ideas 

 he’d just look at you and his gaze would darken all of a sudden and with just a glance at him you already feel the wind being knocked out of you 

it would be rly sudden, like dimitri’s just rly needy all of a sudden and he’s taking whatever you’ll give rly he has so much pent up stress and needs some form of release and he’s so so emotional and touchy and won’t stop kissing you with so much fervor and desperation

dimi is 1000% a lovemaker im sorry u cannot convince me otherwise. unless he is feral. if he is feral then understandable have a good day. 

he’s all about pampering and kissing every inch of you and asks every five minutes is this okay? are you comfortable? does that hurt? are you sure? because he’s terrible with fragile things and if he ever hurt you he’d never forgive himself poor baby

part of you just wants to grab his face and say !!! im fine !!! you big idiot !! but you just pull him to your chest and nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe him in deeply, kissing his jaw gently before reassuring him i’m fine dimi, stop worrying 

he’d calm down instantly and focus back on the task at hand, pleasuring the love of his life hehe

BODY WORSHIPPING non stop praises just kissing everywhere his lips come across you’d love it but hate it at the same time bc part of you just wants him in u already and the other half of u is just so so enamoured by him and feels so warm and loved and appreciated

he’s more of a giver than a receiver as well though for opposite reasons compared to felix, he worries about your comfort so much to the extent where it distracts him from his own pleasure, and it isn’t until he’s inside of you that he remembers and is like oh wow fuck and yea things dont usually last very long for him since he always neglects his own pleasure in favor of yours. he gets so focused on making u feel good because he loves you so much and he needs you to know that so yeah he doesn’t remember to even touch himself lmao 

you’d probably come like twice before dimi even whips his schlong out 

at the peak of his pleasure tho dimi gets kinda rough ngl. he’s a person whos very emotionally driven so when everything gets to be a bit too much he’s just slamming into you with so much force your skin stings, grip so tight on your hips there’s sure to be bruises in the morning but despite how rough he is his eyes are nothing but gentle and so so loving 

probably says something like oh seiros when he’s about to come LMAOOO 

dimi is also a king with aftercare but he’d probably knock out like a log afterwards and it’d be like the best sleep he’d get tbh all warm and satiated and just content

dimi sex god 

[block-report-program]

proshippers whole problem is that when they make their content they expect to receive no backlash for it whatsoever when there are literal pedophiles online, ones that people like myself have encountered, and hey, if you're producing or recommending content a pedophile would like, then yea, a lot of people will assume you're a creep and you may face consequences for that. if proshippers went into it with the mindset of hey, people may think im a creep for this content, then i think they would have way less of a bad time. as it stands they're whining about results that are just to be expected. and

also, i know a lot of proshippers claim they tag things well and that you can't find the content for it unless you're looking, but you can. on ao3 I see age gap ships everyday in a completely different and unrelated ship's tag, which makes searching for content for a ship i like really frustrating and sometimes gross. I don't want to see content about an adult pairing I ship grooming a kid that's often portrayed by the fandom as their child. that's why I was looking at just the adult ships tag, and not the threesome tag for those characters. even when i have that tag filtered out, people use the & instead of the slash and i still get to see the fic summary because some proshippers cannot tag properly. and this happens like once a day sometimes, othertimes once every two weeks.

so yeah. I know yall think its an "antis being prudes/trying to censor us" kinda issue but really I think it's an issue of you guys needing to reframe the situation in your minds and also learn how to tag things properly, because otherwise yes, you ARE going to get hate! (and before you imply it no, i do not leave hate on those fics I see when im searching the tag. it frustrates me and i'll vaguely post about it elsewhere, but im someone who enjoys a liberal use of the block button. which is a grievance of mine with ao3 bc it could solve many problems if you could block users, but that's a different post). posting that kind of stuff out of the blue is also a little crazy to complain about getting backlash/blocked for, since if i'm following for xyz and suddenly im getting a very explicit m, which is something i absolutely do not want to see, then im not gonna be happy.

anyways, my two cents. i know you're gonna argue that this entire thing is invalid and that im as bad as a religious conservative or whatever, but i dont care. mainly wrote this because the issue frustrates me. I think antis can be a little ridiculous about certain things too, but proshippers are whiny and seem to have their heads up their asses about certain things, which makes them even more annoying to me <3

Look at my cats.

[giggleandtears]

Crimson Renegade, Part 3

What it feels like to match wits (With someone at your level) 

Summary: Danvers and Kirk enjoy winding McCoy up

Pairings: OC/Jim Kirk(Platonic), OC/Leonard McCoy(Eventual Romance)

A/N: If you haven't seen Star Trek Discovery season 2, Pike makes it well worth it. ;-)

Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Guiding me to the closest patient area, McCoy offers his hand to assist me in sliding onto the bio-bed. Jim quirks a brow at the chivalrous gesture but McCoy has already turned away to gather a few supplies for the exam. When Jim saddles up beside him, my mind runs wild with comparing the two men. Though they are roughly the same height, the air that surrounds them couldn’t be more different.  

Jim’s flaxen hair, crystal blue eyes, and perfectly chiseled jawline, screams fairy tale prince more than captain. Unless you use Captain Pike, circa 2250, as a barometer. Jim’s the type to whisk you off for an idyllic weekend getaway in a cabin, nestled between snow-capped mountains. A roaring fire would await, champagne chilled and at the ready. I think Dr. McCoy would take a slightly different approach. The fire would remain, as would a refreshing beverage. But replace the champagne with bourbon laden hot chocolate. The cabin would stand resolute against the onslaught of swirling flurries, having been built with the strength of his bare hands. Jim and McCoy are two sides of the same coin but only one is commanding my full attention.

"Ok, what you playin' at?” McCoy whispers to Jim, like salt through a grinder. It’s not standard practice for the captain to escort an uninjured crew member to the Med-bay just for a friendly hello. Jim looks on in unabashed amusement and lets McCoy continue his tirade. “We almost got shot to tarnation and you’re here to introduce a woman? Good god man! Have you no shame?” He says in a huff, gathering and regathering the same tricorder and PADD. “Are those boots even regulation?”

“They are.” I chime in sweetly, like honey flowing fresh from the comb. The boys slowly turn at McCoy’s covert mutterings being so easily overheard. “But the tights sadly are not, yet.”

Walking over to me, McCoy places the PADD beside me and can’t stop his eyes from wandering down. Under further inspection, my boots are indeed regulation, stopping just above my calves. The tights, however, are of my own design. Dark mesh blends expertly with my boots before shifting into a less opaque hue, coming to a point over my knee. Tracing McCoy’s gaze downward, I completely understand why the higher hemline of my dress uniform and the illusion of knee-high boots leaves the doctor’s mouth a bit parched.  

Clearing his voice before he continues, McCoy begins to run the tricorder around my head, then on a steady path from my forehead to abdomen and back. “So, what brings you to our favorite tin can in the sky?”

“I'm working on a new shield prototype with Scotty. Can't steal your head engineer, so here I am.”

“At least he's not on that ice planet anymore.” Jim says, with a nearly imperceptible shiver.  

“You always say that, but I had fun on Hoth.”

Shaking his head, Jim snorts wryly. “You’re about the only one.”

McCoy raises his brow at the name, no doubt never hearing of that planet in any star system. Sadly, that also means his knowledge of historical fiction is sorely lacking. How it’s not a more beloved genre is beyond me. Jim mouths ‘You don’t want to know’ to McCoy and lets it drop.  

“Keenser’s hooch always kept me warm. And what else do you really need besides that and good company?” I say. “Besides, it never seemed to be as cold as everyone whined it was.”  

A small smile highlights McCoy’s handsome features as he continues my scan. Although the warmth of his smile is unmistakable, the delicate lines around his eyes seem to narrate a tale of inner weariness. Something tells me coffee, a nap, or even a stiff drink couldn’t lessen whatever’s weighting on his shoulders.  

Returning to the conversation at hand, McCoy’s asks about my position on the Enterprise. “If you're a commander, doesn’t that make you chief engineer?”

“A commander is usually the head of a department. If Scotty needs me, I’ll be there to lend a hand but the prototype is my first priority.”

McCoy hums lowly in understanding, although his gaze has been diverted. He's concentrating deeply on the tricorder in his hands. After each tap of the device, his expressive brows grow closer and closer together.

“Something wrong?”

“Yea.” McCoy begins in a huff. “This darn thing is on the fritz again. I tried a few tricks Scotty taught me but nothin’s workin’. I assumed you were human and bypassed the initial scan but that didn’t help. You are human right?”

“To my knowledge, I am. Is trans-species a thing?”

“You’d be surprised.” McCoy says wryly. “All I got was you’re alive, but a bucktooth gopher in a melon patch is less obvious than that.”

I fail at holding back a snort.  “I have absolutely no idea what that means but it was certainly entertaining.” Offering to take a look, I extend my hand. “Let me see.” The blueprint for each circuit board and screen readout, run through my brain with ease. Fiddling with the small piece of technology is as natural as breathing.  Feeling the heavy gaze of a man no more than 2 paces away from me, is not. Widening his stance, McCoy impatiently crosses his arms after I open the back of the tricorder. I don’t think my brooding companion takes kindly to anything impeding his work, especially a pesky piece of equipment. “The circuits and connectors are in perfect condition, not charred or corroded. So, it must be a programming issue.” Replacing the back of the tricorder, I widen a few scan parameters and disable a couple more, then hand it back to McCoy. “Here, try this.”

After restarting the scan, the familiar steady beeps resume.  

“Well how ‘bout that.” McCoy says, with quiet astonishment. “How’d you know to do that?”

Swinging my legs like a schoolgirl, “Engineers are more than contraband and a good time, Dr. McCoy.”  I say, with cock my head and a cheeky grin. “Or haven’t you heard?”

“I’ve heard a lot of things but that don’t make’em true.”

Leaning the tiniest bit forward, “Is that a challenge?”  

McCoy meets my eye with a sumptuous quirk of his brow. “Only if you can deliver.”

A smile slowly spreads across my face. His steady gaze is electric, sending waves of heat to tickle my skin. Neither of us is backing down. With each passing millisecond something becomes abundantly clear; I am in trouble. Jim clears his throat, breaking us of the spell neither of us intended to cast. Honestly, I forgot Jim was even here.

Leaning back, I straighten my spine and clasp my hands in my lap. Professional as always. “So, did your scan turn up anything interesting?”

“Yea. Are you always this hot?” McCoy asks innocently, without any trace of innuendo.  

This is just too easy.  

Before I can reply, McCoy corrects himself.  “Is your temperature always this high?”

He’s learning  

“Yes. My temperature is usually above average for most humans. 99.3 to 102.4 is normal for me.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

Smiling, “I thought doctors liked specificity.”  

I expected to hear a smart quip but it never comes. McCoy’s face has grown dark.

“There’s also a fair bit of pressure at your temples and occipital lobe.”

Jim stiffens, instantly on alert. A nervous stab blooms in my stomach. I just got here. I can’t be grounded already. McCoy places a calming hand on my shoulder but addresses Jim. Silently they spar, only using their expressive eyes to communicate. I can read Jim like a well-trained empath but McCoy is a completely different beast. The altercation only lasts a few seconds but the decision is final.  

Jim sighs and stuffs his hands roughly in his pockets. “I’ll be right over there, ok?” After nodding, he saunters up to nurse and starts a friendly conversation. Jim manages to only look back once, our concerned expressions mirroring each other.  

“If only he was as protective with himself as the rest of us.” McCoy says.

Smiling weakly, I hum in agreement. With an ever-increasing nervous energy, I pick at the jagged edge of my thumb nail. I’m willing the pressure in my head to subside before McCoy takes the tricorder to me again.  

As if I'm a doe in a wooden glen that’s easily spooked, McCoy speaks much softer than before. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the pain?”

I rub my forehead. “5, maybe.” Even to my own ears, it sounds more like a question than an answer.  

McCoy stares at me disapprovingly. Maybe I don’t have as good a poker face as I thought. He asks how long I've been having headaches and if they make my duties more difficult. I have to think back but it's been over 6 months. I can handle the pain but the dizziness that sometimes accompany them is harder to shake off. I've been found in a dark supply closet more times than I care to count. McCoy bobs his head with each detail I recount, though his lips remain pursed. He picks up the tricorder once again but decides to hand it off to a passing nurse.  

“Do hypos help with the pain?” McCoy asks. Vigorously rubbing his hands together, he steps forward. Meticulously, he feels around my throat and neck.  

“Only for a few hours.” I answer honestly.  

“What did your last physician say about them?”

“Since I could still fulfill my duties, not to worry until that changed.”

McCoy’s hands still. Exhaling harshly, his nostrils flare. “What kinda bonehead, idiotic...” With a sigh, McCoy calms himself. Letting the matter drop, he continues his exam. McCoy softly eases my head to the side to rest in his large palm. His nimble fingers purposefully flutter up and down the tendons in my neck, even into my shoulder blade. When he tilts my head back, I can’t help but stare. McCoy is so, determined. It’s as if my pain and discomfort are the only thing important to him. For a moment he closes his eyes to concentrate more intently on what he feels beneath his fingers. Smiling to myself, I close my own eyes before I’m caught.  

A slight sting radiates at the base of my neck where McCoy was focusing his attention.  His deft fingers and what I suspect was a sly hypo start to alleviate the pressure that’s been building for hours. Releasing a heavenly sigh of relief, I slowly blink open my eyes. Having them closed for only a few short moments; my lids have become quite heavy.  

McCoy tips my head back with a knuckle under my chin. When my eyes catch the light, he inhales suddenly. “Well I’ll be-.” He whispers, astonished. He slowly moves forward as if an invisible string is pulling us together. I’m enveloped by his impressive stature. His warmth seems to seep into my every pore and somehow, I already know I’ll miss it when he moves away. A sly smirk creeps onto my lips when McCoy’s eyes round in amazement. Imaging myself through his eyes is intriguing. Warm brown eyes of amber with flecks of maroon. It’s a fairly typical combination in this day and age, except they weren’t always like this. The longer the light shines in my eyes, the red specs bend and shift until it nearly overtakes the brown. I found the change to be off-putting at first but I've grown to like it.

McCoy leans in closer and cocks his head to the side. “Retinal morphic photoplasia.” Taking a pen light out his pocket and sweeps it over my eyes. “With a nearly a 47% increase in your concentering rate. That’s mighty rare.”

I shrug nonchalantly.  “Yea. It’s just one of my many tricks.”

McCoy smirks until he realizes how close he is to me. His hand has inched up from my neck and is cradling my cheek in his palm.  Clearing his throat, he gently guides my head down and releases me. Dr. McCoy returns to his PADD, tapping harshly. His faced is etched in frustration as he mumbles to himself. I sigh inwardly. I miss the teasing back and forth, the banter. I’d even settle for Mr. Grumpy Pants.  

I speak as light and airy as possible. “So, am I dying Doc?”

“No!” McCoy says, jerking upright. “Why would you go and say somethin’ like that?”

“Because you're looking at my readings like I have the plague.”

“Now that would be a magic trick, since it's been cured for over 600 years.” Sighing, McCoy places the PADD down. “I’m just not too keen on mysteries in my Medbay.”

McCoy explains my scans are in normal ranges, though a little odd. The headaches could be stress related but he’s concerned about the duration. Since I can't think of any triggers and I couldn’t have come into contact with any alien contagions, McCoy decides to take a few samples and run some more extensive test.  After getting a nurse up to speed, McCoy gives me some very pointed instruction.  “Tell me immediately if the headaches get worse. It doesn’t matter if you can still do your duties.”

“Sure thing, Dr. McCoy.” His name rolls easily off my tongue. However, McCoy’s pinched expression looks like his mama forgot to sweeten his lemonade. “Did I say something wrong?”  

He shakes his head ‘no’ but doesn’t offer any further explanation for his sour expression. I’m starting to think maybe that’s just his face.  

Shaking it off, “So, am I good to go?”

“Yes ma’am. No palpations, fever, or hives to speak of.” McCoy drawls.  

Smiling, “Great!  Thanks Doc. I'll try to keep it that way.” Hopping off the bio-bed, I look around the Medbay.  “Now where did my escort get to?”

“Jim,” McCoy says, hollering over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a ship to run?”

Jim says a few last words to an utterly bewitched nurse and walks away. He leisurely walks over, smiling to himself. “So, what I miss?”  

“I don’t know. Home trainin’?” McCoy says, dismissively. I snort softly into my hand and McCoy rewards me with a small smile. But Jim’s piercing gaze is squarely on McCoy, waiting for my results.

McCoy answers simply, all joking aside. “The commander is cleared for duty-”

“Glad to hear it!” Jim says. His jovial-self returning.

“And she knows where to find me if that changes.” McCoy gives me another pointed look for good measure.  

Inwardly I chuckle to myself but stand straight at attention. I give the doctor an emphatic though comical two-finger salute. I know we haven’t had an active military in centuries and technically McCoy and I have equal rank. But he understands me nonetheless. Or I should say we understand each other. If my condition changes and I don’t tell him, he will hunt me down and there will be hell to pay. McCoy nods curtly, satisfied with my answer. After a beat, his eyes soften and the corner of his mouth lifts just a touch. Relaxing again, I smile in return.  

Jim sees our mostly silent exchange and shakes his head. He looks like the cat that caught the canary and I’m not sure I like where this is headed. “You know I always thought you two would get along.” Jim may be right but that doesn’t mean he has to point it out. “You never let me have any fun.” Oh, how I wish that was true. “Both of you can drink me under the table.” True. Jim pauses for good measure. “And you both hate people.”

And there it is.  

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose.  

“For Christ's sake-” McCoy growls.  

“I do not hate people!" We say in perfect unison.  

Slowly, McCoy and I look at each other with the same horrified expression. Brows in our hairlines, eyes bugging out and mouth agape.  We even mirrored each other’s tilted head. Neither of us know how to address what just happened, so we quickly act like it didn’t. McCoy becomes intensely interested in his PADD and I kick myself at falling for Jim’s bait so easily. His smirk is already insufferable but I do address his previous assertion.  

“After an 8-hour shift, who wants to be around people that can't hold a conversation, let alone a drink?” I ask rhetorically.  

“Couldn’t agree more darlin'.” McCoy says, clearly on my side.  

Trying to bite the inside of my cheek does little to disguise my smile. “Thank you.” I’m not sure what garners my appreciation more, his immediate understanding or being called darlin'. I haven't been called that particular term of endearment since I was a child. Oddly, I’m not averse to it. Especially coming from the doctor’s lips.  

“Wait,” Jim interjects, “are you finally admitting there are people you don’t like Commander?”

“Yes, and you are quickly becoming one of them Captain.”

This is quickly ramping up into a tit for tat situation and McCoy is having none of it. “Jim, can you let my patient get a hot meal before you start up again?”

Snickering, I mouth ‘Thank you’ and head for the door. As the doors slide open, I stop and look behind me. Jim is slowly walking with his back towards the door, whispering something to McCoy. I don’t know what he’s saying but McCoy crossed his arms in a huff. “Jim, you coming?” Jim turns smoothly on his heel, not missing a beat. The moment Jim’s back is to McCoy something peculiar happens. His arms drop and he … chuckles. His broad shoulders gently shake until he sighs to himself. For a moment he stares into space. The makings of a smile start to form-

“Danny, you coming?”

Jumping slightly, I turn towards Jim’s voice. He’s mere inches from my ear. After scowling in his general direction, I try to get one more glance at McCoy but he’s already gone. We walk in companionable silence toward my quarters but Jim is determined to spoil it. He keeps smirking like he has a secret every time he catches my eye. Its driving me nuts.  

Exhaling slowly, I mourn my sanity. “I know you have something to say. Spit it out.”

Jim shrugs nonchalantly but smiles nonetheless. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just that you owe me a bottle of whiskey.”

[mitts2002]

Band AU - Yuuji Itadori

Yuuji Itadori was very well known in Japan. His success had blossomed at a young age when he became the lead vocalist in a band of 8 official members. Being in the music industry was amazing for him especially the rock industry where he was able to care less about appearance and fashion and more about his music and the fans enjoyment. 

Yuuji was fortunate to have a career that seemed restricting to the public eye yet never restricted him. He could eat as much as he wanted and go out in public as long as he has some form of security. His label allowed the band to convey their musical creativity and display their individuality to the fans. Life couldn't be any better he thought.

That was until Yuuji had met you.

He always loved his record label and gave them high praise, he still does but was finally experiencing the restrictions many had spoken about. How has he just discovered the band or more specifically HE wasn't allowed to date. The poor boy couldn't even argue to his manager as he had stupidly signed the agreement without fully reading it.

“AHH WHAT DO I DO?“ Yuuji gripped his hair and cried out to his present members. 

‘well i say screw what the company says and go on a date with her right now whats the worst that can happen THEY FIRE YOU? NO ONE CAN REPLACE YUUJI KUN‘ The eldest and ironically the most childish member Gojo had advised.

“Yuuji if you take his advice for anything your destined to fail, honestly i think you should forget about her is she really that amazing“ Megumi replied without even at looking yuuji too engrossed in his food.

“HOW DARE YOU!? i will never forget my queen (Y/N) everything about her seems perfect for me. A match made in heaven! star lovers or whatever that quote is-”

“Are you tryna say star crossed lovers?” Megumi choked on his meal as he laughed at his dumb companion.

And so the whining and debating had continued going back and forth for quite a while. Some members arguing that he could hold off on love to focus on his career and others arguing that if he didn't make a stand now the company would never allow it in the future.

Eventually the group had decided that they would all visit the manager together and beg for Yuujis happiness and if that didn't work out they would threaten to leave the company for one that would allow them all to date.

Luckily for them the meeting had turned out to be shorter than expected but was lowkey embarrassing. Having 8 boys sit at a table ready to battle their manager who was actually pretty calm and agreed to the demands after 10 minutes of discussions was frustratingly anticlimactic. They had all agreed to change their contracts as long as they announce their relationships to the public eye once it becomes official to avoid conflicts meaning Yuuji had one thing left to do.

Actually ask (Y/N) out on a date!

(Y/N) obviously said yes to the adorable pink haired vocalist but the pair couldn't go out together in public so they decided to have the date at Yuujis place. You looked around the dorms which had a homely feeling and was nicely decorated with ornaments from tours, awards and many photos of the members.

"So yuuji what do you wanna- is that a karaoke machine!?" (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled at the little machine tucked away in the corner of the room.

"Ah yeah me and the guys love karaoke, I can set it up if you'd like but let's eat first you must be hungry"

"Oooh did you cook?"

"Yep and I kinda got carried away so please eat as much as you want"

"Alright then I have a big appetite so I don't plan on holding back"

(Y/N) didn't hold back and after the pair eventually finished all of the food and cleaned the kitchen the karaoke machine was calling their names.

"What song should we sing then?? I'm thinking some classic rock or maybe Mariah Carey they're always fun to attempt"

"(Y/N) were gonna absolutely ruin Mariah Carey songs if we do that....but that's the whole point of karaoke I guess LETS DO IT!!"

"Gosh don't scream into the mic were gonna start hearing the neighbours complain"

"Trust me babe the neighbours are gonna complain after they hear your voice" Yuuji smirked before getting smacked with a pillow

"Okay mister LEAD VOCALIST let's see if you can handle mariah"

"I CAN DO MORE THAN HANDLE HER"

"Ew don't say it like that it sounds weird"

They both laughed as the classic we belong together started playing. Yuuji for a vocalist surprisingly couldn't handle the notes at the end of the song and (Y/N)s performance was just tradgic, but they had fun and giggled and took way too many videos of the little karaoke night.

By the end of it Yuuji was sprawled against the table snacks and empty glasses surrounded him while (Y/N) layed on the sofa panting.

"I've never met someone who can sing so good yet so fucking bad at the same time"

"OH SHUT UP I was obviously dialing it down so your vocals could shine and even then they couldn't"

"Dont tease me! My singing was fine Mariah could never"

"Yea yea well how long is it gonna be till your brother gets here"

"He said he's 5 minutes away so I better grab my things"

A silence had fallen upon you both as yuuji handed over your jacket and you adjusted your crossbody bag.

"I had fun tonight. With you"

"Me too yuuji we should do this again sometime"

"Really! Whew I'm relieved I would love to go on some more dates but I wasn't quite sure how you felt"

"I feel like any girl who is asked out by you should feel blessed. Do you know how adorable and charming you are yuuju?" (Y/N) raised her eyebrow and yuuju giggled with a slight blush.

"I'm not adorable (Y/N) your meant to think I'm sexy" he whined out before realising what was said.

"WAIT NO I DIDNT MEA-"

"Who said I don't think your sexy Yuuji. A person can be cute and sexy at the same time"

A notification appeared on (Y/N)s phone displaying her brother had arrived and was waiting outside.

"I'll walk you to the car then"

"Such a gentlemen! And thanks for all this yuuji can't wait for our next date"

(Y/N) Slowly leaned in giving Yuuji a soft kiss to his cheek before walking out to the car. Yuuji also couldn't wait for his next date, plans and ideas already springing to mind.

[dontshootmespence]

Long Distance Lovin’

Summary: Dean is always away on a fucking hunt lately, so you come up with a solution to your problem that satisfies you both.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,219

Warnings: Vibrators, fingering, light nipple play, orgasm.

A/N: This fills my ‘free space’ square for @spnkinkbingo​.

Despite the bunker’s size, it had felt like home since the moment you’d walked down those stairs just a few years earlier. When they were away though? The cement walls, cold, hollow-sounding floors and dim lights throughout made you feel small and alone. You weren’t a hunter. Never had been, never would be, aside from some training that Dean had insisted on, so you stayed in the bunker when they were away, which was a lot as of late.

Closing your eyes, you conjured the warmth of his lips when they pulled away, just before he left. You tugged your phone from your pocket and texted him.

How’s the hunt going?

With dinner on your mind, you slipped the phone back to its rightful place on your hip and went about making something to eat. Each clang of the pots and pans echoing throughout the kitchen did little to make you feel less alone. Once your bacon cheeseburger was ready (Dean was seriously missing out), you ran back to your bedroom and grabbed one of his henleys - the forest green one that reminded you of his eyes.

Bringing it to your face, you inhaled the scent. It wasn’t honey or whiskey or anything like that. It just smelled like comfort, like Dean. You pulled off your clothes, standing in your room in nothing but your cotton panties and slipped the shirt back over your head before going out to eat your dinner. The thick, overwhelming scent of bacon and beef filled your nostrils and called back to the kitchen, momentarily distracting you from your loneliness.

After you ate, you began washing the dishes and felt a buzzing on your hip.

Quick ghoul gutting. Be back in the morning.

You teased him with the fact that you’d made yourself a mouth-watering burger for dinner and you were eating it half naked, wearing nothing but your panties and his shirt.

You’re killin me, woman.

Come home soon. I miss you. And I’m amazingly horny.

You could practically feel Dean’s eyes on you despite the distance.

Stop. M in a room with my brother, hard as a rock and I can’t do anything about it.

Heat flooded your body. Instead of heeding his words, you pulled Dean’s shirt below your breasts and took a picture, captioning it, ‘Wanna do something about it?’

Excitement pricked your skin, sending you toward the bedroom while you waited for your inevitable answer. Dean was always down for experimentation. Reaching into the bedside drawer, you pulled the vibe out and sat on the bed.

Whadya have in mind?

Just before he’d left last time, you installed a fun little app on his phone. You called him and laughed at how quickly he answered. “Hey, baby,” he said softly.

“Have you taken a shower yet?” You whispered too, despite having the entire bunker to yourself. Once he said he hadn’t, you told him to go into the bathroom and turn on the water. “Do you see an app on your phone you don’t recognize?”

Hesitation hung on the line as he presumably scrolled through his phone, searching for new app. “Yea, see somethin’ here. What is it?”

“Well, I have a special new vibrator that you can control with that app.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Imagining he was in the room with you, you followed his instructions and slide back against the hardwood headboard. 

“Now slip those little fingers into that sweet pussy,” he whispered. “Let me hear it.” You did as he said, a smile spreading across your face as you lowered the phone closer to where you were touching yourself. 

You breathed heavily, whining and whimpering as you bucked down into your hand. “Mmm, fuck.” The way your pussy squelched as your fingers slid in and out; it was obscene, vulgar. You laughed.

Dean’s voice pulled you back from the other end. “Now where’s that vibrator?” He asked. “Slide it into your sweet little cunt.”

Again, you hung on his every word, keening as your walls clenched around the one end, the other pressing against your swollen clit. Before you could get a word out, say that you were ready for whatever delicious assault he decided to wage against you, the vibe turned on. You gasped, biting your lip to keep from crying out before you realized you didn’t have to care.

At first, the vibrations were soft and low and building, enough to make you warm inside, squirm against the sheets, still talk, but Dean didn’t want that. “I want you wordless and drooling and coming. Do you hear me?”

How could you not? Though he was miles away, it was the closest you’d been physically in weeks.

When he turned the speed of the vibrator up, you pushed back into the headboard, sliding down the sleek wood with each wave. Dean never let you get comfortable though. As soon as he thought you were content and on the cusp, he’d switch up the speed or the pattern.

You could hear him tapping against the phone, just barely. Over the rhythmic taps, you heard his own breaths, heavy and laden with need. “Fuck, Y/N. Can practically feel you around my cock. Need you.”

“C-Come home soon. Get on the r-road first thing in the morning and I’ll-” You gasped, scraping your fingernails against your inner thighs and up your stomach. As they swirled around your nipples, taught and tight against the supple yield of your skin, Dean switched the pattern again, sending three jolts follow by three taps against your aching clit. 

It switched again to full force and full speed. Your body bucked against the cool air and your mouth dropped open. “Ah, ah, ah.” Staccato breaths floated from your lips, each one louder than the next. “Dean, I-”

Groaning into his end of the phone, Dean held the speed high, dragging it up and down. You imagined it was his fingers sliding up and down your sodden cunt instead of the vibe. “Pinch yourself,” he demanded. 

You squeezed your thumbs and forefingers against your nipples, pushing the soles of your feet against the bed to buck into nothingness. Dean continued, “More.” And you did, harder, pulling and twisting as the words left his lips, the vibrations against your pussy consistent yet out of control like a tornado tearing through the countryside. “Come for me,” he whispered into the phone. “Let go and come for me. Let me hear it. I need to hear it.”

As the shockwaves began to build up in your system, his voice became louder, though he whispered all the same. You bit your lip and clenched your legs against the vibrator, rolling into the movements as your mouth became slack and groaned, half into the open room and half into the pillow. “Fuck,” you whimpered. “Dean, I-, that-”

In the midst of your own orgasm, he must’ve come himself. He was much more relaxed than when he’d picked up the phone. “Okay, nothin’ beats the real thing. But that was fun. One day, I’m going to tie you to a chair, slip this inside you and watch while I make you lose control.”

“Sounds good to me,” you laughed, whining as you removed the vibrator. “Hurry home, okay?”

“We’ll be on the road soon as the sun’s up.” Dean chuckled.

@impala-dreamer​ @akshi8278​

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [8]

Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

You always thought you would be happy to see him again.   To come face to face with the man who you miss the most — who you’ve yearned to see so much. Like reuniting with a close friend who you’ve lost contact with. Like rediscovering a piece of yourself that you had lost.   But you didn’t know it would be so painful. That your heart would be so heavy.   “H-hey.”   “Hey.” Seokjin smiles and your heart stutters but then constricts. It’s hard to breathe. “Are you on your way to class?”   You hold your books closer to your chest as if they could do anything to protect you. Your eyes sweeping over his features, trying to freshen your memories of him. You can’t recall the last time you heard the sound of his voice. “Y-Yeah. Are you?”   “I’m on my way to the library to meet up with some people for a group project,” he says casually with a good-natured smile.   “Oh. A group project already?”   “Yeah, I know right.” Jin sighs lightly, lips falling into a slight pout. “Well it’s my last ever semester, so it’s the last push.”   “Totally. I...get it.”   “I should go now before I’m late. It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”   You nod and without waiting a beat, he brushes past you, continuing down the hall.   You hate it. The way he looked at you, talked to you so nonchalantly, how he didn’t even blink thrice. Jin was friendly, but you know him — and he treated you the way he treats strangers. There weren't any softened gazes, gentle words. None of his actions had a trace of lingering feelings. His polite smile is the same one that’s reserved for mere acquaintances. Distant.   You’re no less than a stranger to him.   And as you watch Jin’s backside fading down the corridor, you quickly wipe away the tears that shed down your cheeks.   //   “You ran into him?”   You nod, toying with the hem of your sweater.   “That’s great news,” Jungkook murmurs from the corner of his mouth, preoccupied with choosing a game.   “Yeah, I know, right?” You're stiff, but he doesn't pay enough attention to notice.   You’re sitting on the floor of Jungkook’s dorm room, knees gathered together as you watch him set up. He’s finally cleaned up after you insulted him that he was a pig living in a pigsty, and he was offended enough to clean up after himself and do his laundry.   Jungkook switches on his PS4 and flops down on his small couch with the controller. He glances up at you when there’s ongoing silence and realizes he should say something more.   “That means there’s hope, right? If he’s willing to talk to you and all. I know a lot of exes who would run in the other direction.”   “Yeah. That’s true, I guess.”   Jungkook is optimistic. “If you keep talking to him, who knows, you might get back together before you even realize.”   There’s a loud knock on the door, someone’s fist banging on the surface. The boy in his gray sweatpants and black, boxy shirt sighs, gets up and opens the door. The person on the other side glares at him. “Dude, about fucking time. Was standing out there for an eternity.”   “Shut up, I literally took ten seconds.”   “Yea, but ten seconds we could’ve used playing. Hey, Y/N!” Hoseok grins, plopping down on the couch and stealing Jungkook’s controller. Jimin follows in, greeting you with a smile, and Taehyung and Yoongi are the last with the former harshly nudging the latter forward.   “Alright, alright,” Yoongi grunts quietly and then faces you with his hands dug into his hoodie pocket. “Y/N. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour last time.” He looks less sorry and more disgruntled and reluctant, but it’s enough to amuse you.   You snort. “It’s no big deal.”   “Okay, cool.” Yoongi exhales and sits beside you.   Taehyung shakes his head but redirects his attention to Jimin when he steals his favourite controller. “Hey, hey, hey, paws off, bro.”   “What?”   “That’s mine.”   “Who says?”   “I wrote my name at the back in pencil. Look. See?”   “You wrote on my controller?” Jungkook is outraged, snapping into their argument.   In the meanwhile, Yoongi scrolls through his phone and notices you’re blankly staring at Jungkook's old flat screen — the one he stole from his parent’s home months ago and somehow set it up here. “I meant it.”   “What?”   “I know it looked like Taehyung made me,” Yoongi mumbles, “Which he did. But I meant to apologize anyway. Eventually. I know I’m an ass.”   “You’re an honest one,” you admit with a small smile. If there was anyone who was going to be frank and truthful, it would be Yoongi. He won’t sugar coat it, won’t string pretty words together to make you feel better, so that’s why you pick him to inquire, “Can I ask you a question, Yoongi?”   “Sure.”   “Do you think I’ll ever be able to get back together with Jin?”   “No.” His gaze connects with yours. “You won’t. Usually people break up for a reason and that reason always stands.”

Two weeks pass by as you ignore the thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. You overlook it like an assignment on your desk that needs to be done or like that messy drawer you should clean out but keep procrastinating on. And it’s easy to distract yourself when the entire school is stirred.   Of course it would be. After all, the most competitive holiday was coming up.   “What are you going to make for Valentines?”   “Me?” You blink. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it yet….”   The atmosphere hyped — even the dining hall is louder, the air buzzing.   The holiday simply dedicated to love has long been replaced by alumni years ago and became a competition. After all, this was the place where everyone could make sweets after all. No longer was Valentine chocolates simply melting chocolate from the store and pouring them into molds — every single person here can properly judge the quality, taste, texture, flavour, and the presentation.   According to rumours, the tradition started between three people, specifically when a girl told her two potential suitors that she would become the Valentine of whoever baked better. It sounds like some ridiculous Shakespearean tragedy, but as people went head to head to win the affections of their crushes — it essentially evolved into a competition.   And at this point, it doesn’t matter who gives it to who. It’s who bakes it better.   “I’m still debating if I want to do raspberry possets or raspberry religieuse,” Taehyung hums, chin resting in his propped up hand, and he turns to his side. “Which one do you like, Yoongi?”   “Why the fuck do you care what I like?”   “Well obviously because I’m going to make it for you,” he giggles.   Yoongi glares. “Fuck off.”   “Who else am I supposed to give it to? You have no one, I have no one.”   “What about Jimin?” you ask, trying to hold back laughter with said brunette.   “He has his mom.”   “Hey,” Jimin whines, “I have the Valentine’s Day fundraiser at the hospital this year too.”   “So you’re not going to make anything for your mom?” he deadpans.   “Well, no.” Jimin pouts. “I’m going to make her red velvet cupcakes.”   “Don’t make fun of him,” you chide Taehyung and turn to the other. “That’s really cute, Jimin.”   Jimin grins, eyes crinkling into half moons. “Don’t worry, Taehyung can say whatever he wants. He’s just jealous my mom’s the best. She raised me all on her own and I wouldn’t be here without her.”   “Okay, I’ll admit she’s really nice,” Taehyung has a dreamy expression. “I miss her warm hugs.”   “That’s weird,” Jimin deadpans, pleasant smile switching into a face of comical disgust. “Don’t talk about my mom like that, dude.”   You laugh and look over at the sleepy man lazily chewing on his mac and cheese. It’s always funny to watch Yoongi eat. He looks physically pained to chew and swallow — you wonder if he would blend all of his food to just drink it if he could. “Are you going to make anything, Yoongi?”   “No. Who would I give it to?” He ignores Taehyung when he exclaims ‘me’.   You direct your attention to Hoseok and he shrugs. “I might...make lemon and poppy seed cupcakes or strawberry rhubarb shortbread bars.”   “For who?” Jungkook asks, brows raised.   “Uh, no one.” But it’s obvious that the answer is too suspicious, so he gives in with a sigh. “I owe Y/N’s friend, Aeri, a favour, so I’ll probably make something for her.”   “Ooh, I haven’t heard you talk about Y/N’s friend before.” Taehyung leans in closer, eyes glistening.   “Shut up,” Hoseok quips. “What about you, Y/N?”   “I...haven’t decided if I will or not. Maybe I’ll make something for Jin.”   Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, brow cocking, and you stare back at him blankly.   Jimin catches the quick exchange and intercepts. “You should tell Jungkook to make you his chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes.”   “Holy fuck, I remember those!” Taehyung slaps the table, startling both you and Jungkook. “Those was so fucking delicious, I thought I was going to cream my pants when I ate them. I can still taste it.” He slurps up the spit that’s accumulated in his mouth.   Jungkook’s nose wrinkles. “No. It’s too much work to make that.”   Taehyung bats his lashes. “You wouldn’t make it for us?”    “That’s an even harder no.”   “Psh. Valentine’s Day hater.”   “Fuck off. It’s not my fault that the holiday is stupid.”   “You just hate it because you’re alone.” You pat your friend on the back. “It’s okay, Jungkook. You’ll find love someday.”   “Okay, fuck you too,” he spits without much malice, making Yoongi smirk.   “Jungkook just knows his small package can’t satisfy any man or woman.”   Yoongi’s insult rouses laughter from everyone and the man being grilled has his brows shot to his hairline. “For your information, I have a substantial size and I’m probably bigger than everyone here. Especially you, Mr. five foot nine.”   You blanch. “Gross.”    But while Yoongi doesn’t seem injured by the retort, Jimin’s the one who’s sitting straight and he whines, “Why do you have to bring height into this?”   They ignore him in favour of Taehyung’s questioning, “Really? Bigger than everyone here?”   “Okay fine.” Jungkook points at Taehyung. “Except you.”   You look between the pair of them. “Did you guys have a dick measuring contest or what?”   “We will not speak of the past,” Jungkook deadpans, making you laugh even more.   //   You know that you shouldn’t. With what Yoongi’s told you, with what you know yourself, you shouldn’t go out of your way to do something so unnecessary. You shouldn’t put your heart on your sleeve to get hurt again when it’s not going to be worth it. But in your life, there've been a thousand shouldn’ts and you’ve always grasped onto the one should.   It never hurts you to try, and that’s how you’ve made it this far.   “Hey, Jeon.” You catch up to him. Jungkook’s legs are unbearably longer than yours and when he walks fast it puts you out of breath within seconds.    Luckily, he sees you and has the decency to slow down. “What?”   “I need your help.” Jungkook’s steps slow even more until he outright stops in the middle of the hallway. He looks so apprehensive, you have an urge to slap that expression off his face. “Hey! It’s not like I’m not going to ask you to kill someone for me!”   “Yeah, well, the last time you asked for a favour, we destroyed a kitchen trying to temper chocolate. I’d rather you kill me, thank you very much.”   “Pretty please? Promise it’s not bad.”   “Ew, ew. Don’t look at me like that and stop pouting, you’re not cute.”   You frown at him. “Look it’s not a huge, huge thing, promise.”   “What is it?”   “Well, you’re Jungkook, World’s Best Chocolatier, right?” You nudge him with your elbow and it only makes him more suspicious with how you’re thickly laying down the praise. “And you know chocolate hates me. I definitely don’t know about it as well as you do either, so I need you to bestow your gifts onto me—”   “What is it, lady? Get a move on! I don’t have all day.”   “Can you help me make something for Jin?”   Jungkook pauses. He stares at you. Maybe his brain finally died — not like there is anything to die considering it’s always been a little on the empty side. But then he finally opens his mouth. “What are you planning?”   “Just something simple. Like truffles. What do you think?”   Jungkook hesitates, then he looks at you. “Fine.”   “Really?”   “Yeah, yeah.”   He waves his hand away, but you grin at him. “You know you’re my best friend, right, Jungkook?”   “Yeah, well, it’s something I never really signed up for,” your best friend mutters and continues walking while telling you that you’ll owe him and that means more notes from multiple lectures. But it’s worth it.   On the fourteenth, right on Valentine’s Day, you meet with Jungkook.   He audibly sighs when he sees you tie up the back of your apron. “What?”   “Nothing. I just can’t believe I’m spending Valentine’s with you.”   “I thought you didn’t care about the holiday.”   “I don’t. But that still doesn’t mean this isn’t lame. Whatever. The quicker we get this done, the quicker I can leave and avoid all this.” He motions around, but you know what he means.   Love is in the air and it’s sickening — couples were holding hands, kissing each other on the tips of their noses, rubbing their cheeks against one another, dialing up the PDA to an uncomfortable amount. But you can’t blame them. You and Seokjin were once like that.   “Do you know how to make ganache?”   “Do I know how to make ganache,” you mimic him mockingly. “Of course I do! What am I, an idiot?!”   “Well, you didn’t know how to temper chocolate so you tell me.”   You glare at him. You would mouth off but can’t risk him storming out.   The two of you gather the eight ounce semi-sweet chocolate, a half cup of whipping cream, cocoa powder and some vanilla. Jungkook helps you heat the cream to a simmer in a small saucepan, looking over your shoulder at every step along the way. While you’d usually mind the way he’s intruding in your personal bubble, you don’t want to get anything wrong.   “Make sure it doesn’t burn.”   “It’s not going to burn.”   “You said that last time.”   You snap. “Keep bringing up last time and this will be the last time you step into the kitchen, Jeon.” A second later, you’re begging Jungkook not to leave. But thankfully, he has enough mercy and lets you off with a warning.   The pair of you continue making the ganache, placing the chocolate in a bowl before pouring the cream and adding the vanilla to it. You allow it to stand for a few minutes before stirring it into a smooth, deep mixture.   You place the ganache in the fridge for half an hour to chill. In the meanwhile, you clean up the mess and wash whatever dishes you have. Jungkook, on the other hand, shows you Yoongi’s reaction of Taehyung proposing to him with some cupcakes in front of campus in which the former man straight out walks away.    Jimin who’s filming is giggling hard enough that the camera is unsteady, but his laughter is infectious and makes the both of you grin. Jungkook says he’s glad he wasn’t there lest Taehyung turned to him and started to declare his fake affections and cause a crowd to gather. Apparently it’s happened before.   When the ganache is ready, Jungkook helps you roll it into balls and dust with cocoa powder. You pull out a box you had prepared to place them in, and you could not be prouder when it’s complete.   It looks like a product that you could buy in-store. Simple yet elegant.   “All done.”   “All done,” you repeat after him, viewing your final product. Chocolate doesn’t hate you so much when you’re with Jungkook, you realize.   “He’ll love it.”   “Yeah….”   You can imagine it — calling out Jin’s name. He’d spin around, regard you with his surprise. You’d extend your arms to give him the box. You’d try to show through this small gesture that you still love him, but you wouldn’t speak the words in case the moment would be ruined. But with your courage mustered, you’d tell him that you miss him in your life. That you don’t want to be strangers anymore. Whether that means remaining friends or being lovers again.   But you know that it’s just your fantasy.   A delusion — your optimistic imagination running wild with the semblances of hope still left within you. A sweet dream you would have in your slumber only to wake up to reality. The grief of your heartbreak morphed into a wishful thinking. The image and scenario you’ve constructed in your mind is simply part of a chapter in your life that would never happen.   “He wouldn’t take it,” you whisper.    It's a truth that’s hard to face, that you’ve been running from and turning yourself blind to.    But you know Seokjin. After nearly two years together, you know the kind of polite smile he gives to strangers. You know how he treats acquaintances. You know when he’s being distant, how he acts when things don’t matter to him anymore. And you know that— “He wouldn’t….”   He would never take this.    He would never accept the chocolates you’ve made on Valentine’s. You would never be able to muster the courage to tell him how much you miss him. And he would never agree to being friends after your extensive history together.    Your head lowers, and tears drip down your cheeks. Jungkook is rendered speechless but you feel his hand on your shoulder. He squeezes comfortingly.   You sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand, and you take a truffle to throw into your mouth. You chew in your cheek and look at Jungkook with your reddened, teary eyes. “I-If he won’t eat it, we should.”   That’s how you end up on the floor of the kitchen with Jungkook beside you.    The two of you are leaning against the kitchen island, hidden away from the window of the door and any intrusive eyes peering through. The tips of your fingers are stained with melted chocolate — the fruits of your labour gone in an instant.   The realization sinks in. After months of what you’ve tried to keep a hold on it. Having hoped aimlessly that you could change this back around. What had shattered into sand and slipped between your fingertips, but you tried to catch it again. It hits you in an instant.    Harder than it ever has.   “It’s really over, isn’t it, Jungkook?” you ask in a murmur, in a broken voice. “It’s over.”   The relationship ended. Any form of a relationship with Seokjin is gone forevermore.   Jungkook turns his head, gazing at your profile. He pats you on the back.   He’s learnt long ago that he wasn’t very good at speaking, but that his words don’t mean as much as his actions do.   So in silence, Jungkook eats the truffles with you. It’s not bad, he muses internally. You’re getting better at chocolate despite how you never had a knack for it. Well, technically he made them but whatever, your effort still means something.   He chews and keeps to himself how the chocolate truffle strangely tastes sweet and bitter, like both sugar and black coffee.

[dokeblr]

Sunshine In The Mountains

Character/Pairing: Mirio/Reader

Summary/Prompt: Soulmates are linked through telepathy

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

Requested By: @hazelmoonchild

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

‘Have a good day, sunshine!’

It was your bright inner alarm, nearly every morning at 7am. A gentle but giddy voice would guide you into your morning routine with a bit of variation every now and again, but always with the sunshine. Those were the best mornings.

‘Hope you slept well, sunshine!’

‘Take good care today, sunshine!’

‘Go out there and do your best, sunshine!’

It was almost unnerving, how he managed to not only remember to talk to you but kept the consistent upbeat tone.

You couldn’t exactly pin down the right words to describe his voice. It was airy in the way a tuff of white dandelion fluff floats through the air, carried by a soft wind; but grounding and solid at the same time.

Describing the voice was hard mostly because of how muffled and distorted he sounded, as if he was speaking to you through a gramophone or an old payphone with a rusty connection.

It was your favourite sound, although you didn’t get to hear it often.

He came and went, sometimes there for hours, sometimes cutting off mid-sentence. With no consistency to his intrusions into your head, you learnt to cherish the times you could talk with him.

You were six years old when you first met him

Summer was kicking in with sweltering heat that year, the kind that baited you outside just to suck the energy right out of you, which is exactly why you were finding solstice underneath a gnarled, towering oak tree.

‘It’s too hot!’

You startled, dropping the toys you were fiddling with and twisted your head left and right to find the voice. The only other kids were busy playing down by a stream, bubbling laughter only barely reach you. There was no one.

‘That was weird.’ You thought passively to yourself, getting comfortable under the tree again and fixing your toys.

‘What was weird?’

Once again you startled, yet still finding yourself alone.

“Hello? Who’s that?” There was a tremble to your voice. Home was only across the path a small woodland path and just down the street, but you were still small and young, with enough knowledge of stranger danger to realise there was something to fear.

Once again, silence reigned. Even when you circled the tree, no one was near.

‘Hey, what was weird? Also, who are you? Are you in my hea- Oh! Are you like an alien parasite from that one hero movie?!’

The voice was in your head, something your young brain was failing to comprehend.

‘Who are you? Can you get out please?!’

Despite the fear, you’d never forget your manners.

‘I’m Mirio! And sure thing, sorry!’

You waited with bated breath, waiting to hear any sign of the strange Mirio boy that was trapped inside of your head. It felt like ages but was only really a few minutes before you resigned yourself back to the safety of the tree.

‘Am I out of your head yet?’

This time you screamed out loud.

You were nine, maybe ten when the nickname started.

‘Hey, what’s 7 x 8?’

‘You need to start learning maths yourself!’

You’d never known it possible for someone to groan so much internally.

‘Ugh, I know!’ Mirio whined back. ‘Please?’

‘Don’t start sweet talking me now. Its 56.’

There was silence for a good while, before his excitable thoughts jumped back in.

‘Thank you so much, sunshine!’

‘Sunshine?’ Using nicknames wasn’t something he’d done before, always just using your name or calling you “friendly-head-alien-parasite”, this one catching you off guard, your stomach fluttering just a bit.

‘Yeah, sunshine! An old lady called me it today when I bought an ice-cream at the store, and I liked it, so now I’m using it too!’

From then out, he still wouldn’t leave your head, nor would he stop calling you sunshine, and you were glad of it.

Despite never meeting, you grew up together, sharing your moments of joy and venting about your deepest secrets with one another, feeling as though you were both extensions of the other rather than two different people.

You shared your addresses early on, realising you both lived on opposite sides of the country. However, neither of your parents would give in to your hopes of meeting the stranger in your head, both of your parents dismissing the voice as another imaginary friend.

Maybe you both internalised that, at some point unconsciously believing the person on the other end wasn’t a real person that breathed, lived and walked out to the same sun.

Not that it mattered, even at the age of eighteen you were both unmoving fixtures in each other’s lives, a near constant presence regardless of where you went.

Today you found yourself at a national park, in another sweltering summer with the sun eating at your neck but not managing to dent your determination to conquer the winding trails.

The trip was sporadic, you found yourself with a lot of spare time to fill and not much to do, so travelling a few hours to the famous park with its beautiful fauna and amazing views of the forests was an obvious choice.

‘You should see the view’s here Mirio, its breath taking!’

Mirio hadn’t been responding that day, which wasn’t entirely uncommon, but the silence always made you feel a little more alone.

Waiting for a response was useless, so you set off towards the mountain peaks and gravel trails lined with wildflowers and teeming with odd critters.

‘Beautiful day today, sunshine! The sun out here is awesome!’

The rush of butterflies in your stomach every time you his voice came back was something you’d near get used to, but you were grateful for.

‘Yea, I know! It’s gorgeous over here too, great day for the outdoors.’

Continuing on the upward path, you hoped this wouldn’t be another of the days where only one line got through followed by radio silence for the rest of the day.

‘Oh, you’re outside too? Awesome! I’m out for a walk in this beautiful forest-y place, the air is so fresh too.’

You halted your next step as you finished listening to Mirio’s voice. It sounded different, not sounding like the same crispy lilt you were used to. Maybe you were a bit exhausted from the sun, your brain dehydrated from all the constant over-bearing heat of the day.

‘Me too’ You thought back, chugging back some cold water and marching onwards. ‘It’s killing my legs though, more of an upward trek than I realised.’

‘It’ll be worth it for the view; plus think of all the extra exercise you’re getting in!’

No, there was definetely something different. His voice wasn’t the same. It was like it had almost cleared, become less distorted. Like he was standing next to you and holding conversation, not on the other side of the country.

It was almost like you were back under the tree as you looked around while you walked. You never expected to spot him amongst the trees or behind you on the trail, but you couldn’t restrain the urge to check.

“Oof!”

Suddenly you were on your back, staring up at a cloudless sky, grit and stones jutting against your skin as you struggled back up. You had bumped into something hard, headfirst.

Whatever you had bumped into seemingly suffered a fall too as it stirred from ahead of you, dusting off its shorts and standing up.

“Oh jeez! Sorry about that, totally blanked there for a second and didn’t even see you there! Are you alright?”

Crystal clear. No echo, no fading, no cutting out. His voice was right there, now you could finally see the source when you turned your head.

There was no line from where the tuffs of gold on his head ended and the sun began, it framed him from behind like a halo, shading his angular jaw and allowing his eyes to glint with the smile curled under his adorable nose.

‘Mirio?’

You couldn’t say the name outloud, could barely open your mouth to gasp.

As soon as the thought was out your head, the blonde’s eyes widened and searched your face.

“Y/N?”

It was him. Standing in front of you, breathing, sweat glistening, you could even feel the heat oozing from the palm outstretched in front of you.

“You’re real?”

It was unfathomable that there was a body to the voice, a face and a smile that framed it but there he stood.

You reached out and let your fingertips glide across his palm, his fingers gently tickling your wrist in return. His hand was big, calloused and held a soft sort of endearing warmth.

Suddenly he pulled his hand back slightly and wound his fingers through yours, then jerked you from the ground and into his arms. You hadn’t noticed how muscular his arms were until you were embraced by them and snuggling into the hard muscle you had planted your face into moments ago.

“Nice to finally meet you, sunshine.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ »»————-　♡　————-««

Notes: This one wasn’t too specific on the soulmate bit but I tried to keep the soulmate theme lowkey, otherwise everyone would’ve been able to find their soulmates and there’d be no real oomft to the plot. Hope you enjoy it!

[sanghyukstattoos]

All in the dark

Characters: Kim Seokwoo I Rowoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2320

Summary: Neither of you could stomach anything scary but for the sake of it, the two of you decided to watch a movie so horrifying, you just gave up mid way through for something more comforting. 

A/N: Thanks to HourlyRowoon for the pictures! Anytime, I want some pictures I visit the twitter fanpages dedicated to hourly pictures of the members (individual and group) These are some beautiful pictures of Rowoon (I’m loving the colour on these)

To the anon that sent in this request, thank you so much 🥰💖 This was really cute to write and thinking about Seokwoo just casually protecting the reader all the way despite being scared himself made me 🥺🥺🥺 Also, thanks for liking my other writings, I’m super grateful!

Seokwoo once came back home and flopped on the sofa where you were, lazing into your arms. Running your fingers through his hair, the action soothed him as he proceeded to tell you about how the company that asked SF9 to perform gave them one hell of a scare during Halloween. From then on, it became pretty obvious already that neither of you liked anything to do with horror.

The upset it caused was enough for you to cover your ears and scream. So, for starters, you didn't know why either of you agreed to this. Here you were, the two of you sitting on the sofa, hands on laps and shoulders squared, unsure of how to move on from this.

Seokwoo's manager was sitting on the other side, slumped against the hand rest of the sofa with a remote in his hand, hesitating on which movie to choose because apparently, "All of them sound so good". It didn't make sense to you and despite protests, he managed to convince you into watching something that was, "less scary".

Seokwoo blatantly accused his manager of, "stop lying, Hyung! " and the evil giggle in response had your eyes widening, ready to snatch the remote from him. "Can I have the remote please?" you kindly asked his manager, eyes wide and pleading to compensate for what was about to happen next.

Seokwoo looked at you suspiciously, wondering what was happening. It wasn't the usual dynamic that you had with his manager but he still watched anyways. "Nope" his manager replied, sticking his tongue out immaturely as he watched your face drop. It took you less than a second to stand up, a knee still on the sofa and hand on Seokwoo's shoulder to lean across him and try to grab the remote from his manager.

But, his manager was faster having already predicted this, holding it out of reach so you were just struggling for nothing. As you moved to completely stand, he stood up and you squared off, staring at one another intensely as Seokwoo laughed, watching the interaction.

The two of you moved in synchrony, his manager moving behind the couch as you had your eyes on the remote, trying to get enough to snatch it. Soon enough, the nerve of a war broke out and the two of you were running around the sofa like a dog trying to chase its tail. "Be careful" Seokwoo spoke out and it passed through your senses but his voice was lost in your own shouting.

"It's not even that deep, just watch the thing" his manager shouted from across the sofa, pointing to the screen and your flat expression made him laugh. "The thing?! The thing is scary!" you shouted back, jumping over the sofa to get to him. This he didn't expect, eyes widening as he scurried to try to make his escape.

Half way through you switched, turning back and catching his t-shirt, pulling him to a halt. The two of you were panting and you reached out for the remote. In your unplanned action, he removed your grip that had loosened on his shirt and skirted away, dangling the remote in front of you.

You hmphed, discontented at the loss but not before saying, "I'll get you back for that" which he mockingly smiled at, not feeling the need to play fair despite having just won. Seokwoo walked out of the kitchen with three cups of hot chocolate on a tray, setting it down on the table in front of you.

Sitting down on the sofa, you settled into Seokwoo's side, perking up when you heard his manager say, "Huh, this remote holds so much power". Immediately you quipped, "First and last", looking at him dead in the eye. "What'd you say?" he asked to which you replied, "First and last" pointedly, sticking your tongue out at him in a final act of retaliation.

You laughed together, Seokwoo chucking at you two. He wrapped an arm around you, looking at you fondly before turning his attention to the movie that started. Throughout the introduction, you held onto him, waiting for something scary to pop out. The fear that manifested itself within you was building up even though the story hadn’t even really progressed. 

You didn’t even have to hide it, not a single peep came out of your mouth but Seokwoo knew you. Somewhere in there, you were already scared and he wouldn't have to try to get a reaction out of you. "Ahh, I have to leave in 20 minutes" his manager said, looking at you, pursing his lips in question of whether he could stay for longer.

"Ahh" you whined, "stay, otherwise who is going to watch this movie?" you asked and hearing your words, he gave you a look as it was very obvious. "You two of course but then I highly doubt that you'll watch all the way through" he said and you couldn't help but disagree, stopping yourself because there was some truth to it.

"Oh no, we are definitely watching it" Seokwoo spoke up beside you, your eyes widening when you heard his words. "We are?" you whispered, and his manager replied, "Uh-huh" not convinced in the slightest. And why would he be? Even you, Seokwoo's latest partner in crime wasn't certain.

"No really, by then all the scary parts will be over" he said and you face-palmed. "By that time, the scary parts wouldn't even have begun," his manager said, narrowing his eyes as you glared at him from the corner of your eye, citing determination in a way that would help you pass through this struggling time.

20 minutes later, his manager left and you paused the movie to exchange hugs and ‘’stay safe’’, waving as he drove off in his car. One step at a time, you settled on the sofa, pursing your lips in wonder of whether you’d actually be watching the movie. Seokwoo came in a couple of seconds later, nodding his head as he said, ‘’yup, we’re watching the movie’’. 

You groaned and threw your head back dramatically, feeling like it was unjustified. You could always pretend to have watched it and relay the parts you found scariest by reading the plot on Wiki but Seokwoo was adamant. ‘’We said that we’ll watch so let’s go’’ he spoke with determination, looking over to you but his eyes softened when he saw you pout. 

‘’I mean- I’ll be here?’’ he said, suddenly feeling indecisive after realising how scared you’d be, the kind of fear that kept you up at night. This had also happened before but you had watched the movie without him, clinging onto him in the middle of the night when you’d heard the rustling of leaves and had accidently mistaken them for something in the house. 

Apprehensive, you paid close attention to any sounds until Seokwoo had woken up and rocked you to sleep, staying awake to fall asleep after you. ‘’Will you be okay?’’ he asked you with concern in his eyes. ‘’Yea, I’m watching it with you plus, I don’t think that it’ll be that bad anyways’’ you replied, nodding and linking your arms with his. 

Excitement coursed through you as he gave you a suspicious look but agreed, starting the movie. You cuddled into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying on his chest. Tentative of the plot unfolding on screen, you tried to predict the perfect moment to drink your second cup of hot chocolate without spilling it over due to some unforeseen circumstances.

You leant over and grabbed the drink, eyes never leaving the screen. This was your chance to turn a blind eye to whatever fuckery was happening but you were intrigued. So intrigued that lost in your thoughts, a small surprise made you jolt. The cup lightly shook in your hand and you looked at your thighs, smoothing over the material to feel if anything had spilt that you hadn’t felt. 

Sighing in relief, you kept it back down, gasping when you turned to see Seokwoo staring at you, amusement in his eyes. Hand to your chest, you took a deep, shaky breath, slapping his chest as you said, ‘’That scared me’’. He chuckled darkly but stopped as you turned to give him a look so flat, he conceded.

Pulling you back into his arms, you relaxed but not before tensing up, together. His hold on you secured, eyes blown wide and teeth clenched, the graphics on screen horrifying enough to back away. You, on the other hand stilled, mouth agape and completely lost, expression morphing into one of disgust, mouthed, ‘’what the absolute fuck?’’.

You spread the blanket that was beside you, covering both of you from shoulders to toes. Laying down on the sofa, you followed suit and spread the blanket that was beside you, covering both of you from shoulders to toe. You jumped back into his chest at the sight of someone being dragged away while screaming, his immediate response to press a kiss to your back. 

The heat of his breath fanning across your skin made you turn around and face him. Confusion was written all over his face as you did so, asking you, ‘’You aren’t going to watch the movie?’’. You contemplated his question for a moment, deciding that maybe the movie was worth after all, a little return back to. ‘’I’ll join in a little later, can I cuddle you in the meantime?’’ you replied and he hummed, gently grasping the back of your head to pull you into his chest. 

All the tension in your muscles deflated as you took in his scent. Your bodies were touching, the heat exchanging between the two of you. You could still hear the sounds and at first you tried to follow along, but gave up, deciding to relax in his arms for longer.

At the sound of a sudden, high-pitched scream, you jumped in his arms, feeling a chill run through you. Instinctively, you felt his leg over your frame, protecting you in a sudden motion. He was impressed at how he held back a scream himself, feeling soothed at your hand patting his back. 

A smile lit up his face when he turned to you, wishing to forget all the horrors onscreen and instead seeing you doze off , head hitting his chest. Shaking your head to ward off the sleep, a big yawn pulled through, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as a result. 

‘‘If you’re tired, we could just go to sleep’‘ he managed to get out before yawning too. ‘‘What about the movie?’‘ you asked, unsure of why you even bought it up. He shook his head in disagreement making you laugh as he reached for the remote to quickly switch it off. The light of the screen was the only thing that illuminated the room and now that was gone, the two of you froze in the complete darkness. 

‘‘Oh dear’‘ you said, not wanting to get up. ‘‘The faster we leave, the faster we can get to the bedroom’‘ you whispered, grabbing his hand and stumbling as you both got up. If the living room was pitch black, then the hallway was far worse. There wasn’t any light to begin with but the ends of the hallways seemed to be engulfed in darkness, creatures lurking in wait. 

You groaned as your imagination ran a marathon of all sorts of nightmares, trying to pry the chest of terrible things open and let them raid your mind. On the other hand, Seokwoo just held on, looking at the floor of the carpeted hallway thinking that maybe if he didn’t look, nothing would get to him. 

Opening the door of your bedroom, you quickly shut it close behind you, hitting the lights and leaning against the door. Seokwoo looked at you, thinking the same thing, who is going to switch off the lights? Despite being scared, you sighed, nodding to the unsaid question between the two of you. 

Seokwoo hadn’t said a lot and it worried you, wanting to protect him from how scared he must have felt. Slipping into the covers, he left space for you in such a way that when you did jump in, he could immediately wrap the covers around you. 

Counting down, you ran as soon as you switched off the lights, jumping on the bed and feeling the covers wrap around your frame. The two of you snuggled against the other, not liking the feeling of suddenly realising how many blind spots there were in your room. 

‘‘You know what we should have done?’‘ he pitched, sounding excited at his idea.

‘‘Hmm?’‘ 

‘‘We should watch something with comedy in it’‘ and your eyes lit up at the thought.

Seeing your reaction, he beamed hearing you ask with wide eyes, ‘’Do we have to go to the living room?’’

He shook his head replying, ‘’We can watch it on the laptop’’ pointing towards the device that rested not so far away.

Looking to see that the charger could reach all the way, you leaned to grab the laptop, testing the flexibility of your body to see how far you could get off the bed without falling. Chuckling at your efforts, he spoke, ‘’You could have just asked me to get it, you know’’, pursing your lips at his words. Pulling you back, he leant over you and successfully grabbed the laptop, placing over the covers.

Looking at him, you rolled your eyes and laughed, shaking your head and asking, ‘’Which movie should we watch?’’. He shrugged, scrolling slowly so that you could choose the movie. After putting something on, he shifted lower on the bed so that he could rest on your chest and you carded your fingers through his hair, watching him relax, the tiredness long forgotten between the two of you.

[faemytho]

I’m not really in the hazbin hotel fandom ((I love the show don’t get me wrong I’m just not in the fandom)) but I kinda wanna see what you mean? Also I figure you’re still okay with people shipping him just either the fact that people ignore that canonical he is aroace sex repulsed or use it as a “oh we just have to fix him” trope (which fuck that trope)

Same asker that admitted to not really being in the hazbin hotel fandom but liking the show- thought it over and i actually don’t know how you could do Alstser (can’t spell bare with me) without having him as aroace sex repulsed without having him look barely anything like the original- maybe apart from that fic you made a while back

-

okay so, in regards to this post i made earlier about aroace romantic/sex repulsed alastor, that was a headcanon. (i said, and i quote, its canon bc i said so, but in reality ive fooled u all it was just a headcanon i even said so in the tags)

my headcanons aside, alastor IS canonically ace, as referenced by this tweet below (and hey, canon bi character!!! we love that!!)

there is also a footnote on the HH wiki that says alastor is aromantic as well, but the footnote links to a four hour stream video, and i do not actually have the patience to comb through it to see if that's true or not (or if it even came from the mouth of vivzie)

uh, yeah. here's the link to the stream, in case anyone wanted it/was curious.

canonicities aside, lets get one thing out of the way:

i am all for ignoring canon, using fandom to do whatever you want, ect ect, all power to the fans and whatnot, do what you want and be free because its fiction

which means, yes, i am 1000% okay with people shipping alastor with whoever they want! with angel, with charlie, with husk, with vaggie, with nifty, ect ect ect, i don't care, ship what you want, be free, live your best life.

my problem, though, is this: literally nobody in this fandom knows how to write an ace character. and when they do write him as "ace", its OFFENSIVE.

i cannot COUNT the amount of alastor fics ive read where he's supposedly written as asexual (and its usually even tagged in the fic tags, "asexual character"), then ends up sexually attracted to his given partner for that fic, and when they actually go to do the deed, alastor is infantilized to, well, hell and back. and by that, i mean a few things.

he either:

doesn't understand his sudden sexual attraction and/or sexual feelings

doesn't understand what's going on during the sex scene

doesn't know the proper terms for body parts and sexual processes

is HIGHLY feminized and is categorized as "submissive" while the partner becomes the "dominant" and continues on with the sex scene

not only is that fourth one misogynistic and homophobic (an entire other can of worms about how feminine sub/masculine dom in homosexual relationships enforces toxic heteronormativity, aka, the idea that one must "be the girl" and one must "be the man"), but all four of these together are aphobic when you realize, "hey, alastor is an ace character".

off my point a little bit, but ANY relationship (gay, straight, and/or otherwise) should not be using sub/dom as a model to follow - sub/dom is a BDSM kink thing; it should NOT be the normalized sex model for ANY relationship.

there's nothing wrong with kink! but doing BDSM wrong can severely hurt/mentally damage either partner if done incorrectly. normalizing it means that so many young people don't actually understand what sub/dom actually means, and even less the consequences if done wrong.

but back to my point: asexual people get infantilized. and we get infantilized often, because people think "oh, you're not interested in sex/you've never had sex, so you must not 1) know anything about it, 2) know anything about the real world and how nitty gritty it is to survive out here"

basically, ace people get treated like children. a lot.

here is a fantastic article that explains the rampant infantilization of both aro and ace people, and why it is aphobic to do that.

i highly recommend you all read the article, because it is fantastically well written and concise. here's my favorite paragraph:

"Society conditions us to believe that a lack of romantic or sexual attraction is a transitory period. This viewpoint assumes an inevitable progression from a nonsexual to sexual state of being that marks entry into adulthood. Similarly, engaging in romantic relationships is recognized as a milestone of maturity. This stereotyping results in the infantilization of all aromantic and asexual spectra people, especially those who are entirely romance and/or sex-averse. It also incorrectly characterizes asexual people as sex-negative, even though personal sex-aversion and general sex positivity are not mutually exclusive. Moreover, the idea of “being ready” to progress from friendships to romantic and sexual relations undermines the value of platonic relationships, which are integral to our community."

i'm going to move on to one more point, because i know if i don't, i'll get SO many alastor allo-pologist authors whining and screaming about how ace people can have sex too

and yes, here's the thing: asexual people can have sex, can want to have sex, can be sex positive... but that doesn't change the fact that to be not-asexual (or allosexual, if you'd like to use proper terms), you have to be sexually attracted or experience sexual attraction - WHICH IS NOT THE SAME THING AS HAVING A LIBIDO, AND ITS NOT SOMETHING ACE PEOPLE CAN DO/HAVE.

what ace people can have:

a libido

sex

sexual arousal

sex drive

kinks

a partner they're not necessarily sexually attracted to, but trust to have sex with them anyways

what ace people can't have (unless they're not actually ace and are instead allosexual):

sexual attraction to someone

wanting to have sex with a specific person because of this attraction (a partner, celebrity, people they find explicitly attractive)

still confused? don't be!

here's a post where i better explain the difference between sexual attraction vs sexual drive and what that means for ace people

to close this out, im going to attempt to summarize why im so pissed about this.

alastor is canonically asexual.

he may be sex negative, sex neutral, or sex positive; we don't know, but this is fandom and we're allowed to headcanon him however we wish - we can even headcanon him as not asexual!

which is great, yea, but when the ace character is the fan favorite...

people constantly and consistently write alastor as "ace".

which would be GREAT! if they ever did it correctly.

here's what i see most often. instead of headcanoning him as not asexual, they've heard something about how ace people can have sex anyways!

so for woke points, they slap their alastor ship/sex fics with the "asexual character" tag, and write alastor in one of two ways

uwu baby "ive never said a bad word in my life and i dont understand how the world works" asexual

allosexual, but call him ace anyways

both of those are aphobic. i have yet to come across ONE fic where alastor's asexuality (negative, neutral, or positive) is written, and labeled, CORRECTLY.

you know, it actually hurts MORE when he's written as "ace (actually allo)" than it does if people just headcanon him as not asexual.

alastor is a successful serial killer. he has spent decades in hell.

ALASTOR IS A SUCCESSFUL SERIAL KILLER. HE HAS SPENT DECADES IN HELL.

and you cowards are going to write him as inexperienced, ""innocent"", sexually uneducated?? i think the fuck NOT.

NOT ONLY THAT.

alastor lived through the roaring 20s. the flapper movement. the harlem renaissance. AND the sexual revolution of the 1920s. HE LIVED THROUGH ALL OF THAT. and you're going to act like he doesn't know what sex is?? we even KNOW he lived through all that because he says it himself, "i havent been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929", and 1929 was the end of all those movements and the beginning of the great depression - and then alastor died in 1933 after living a successful serial killer life in louisiana.

tell me again, why wouldn't alastor know what sex is or how it works? and if you can't, THEN STOP WRITING HIM LIKE THAT.

please please PLEASE educate yourself before you write an asexual character. ESPECIALLY if you're going to write them with a libido, and actually ACTING on that libido.

thank you.

sincerely, an exhausted sex positive asexual.

[riofann]

Surprise Birthday

GIF by: @alfiessolomvns​

Warnings: alcohol consumption,cursing

A/N: Part of the Spooky Series

You looked outside the window just to make sure they weren’t pulling up “Alright Cesar you have to be in the front, he won’t shoot you but he might everyone else” you say as you place him in front of the door

“Oh so i’m the dummy?”

“Yup! its for your brother! Thanks” 

“Are they close?” he asks

“Waiting to hear from Baldie” you say as you check your phone  

“Isn’t that Baldies car?” Oscar asks Sad Eyes as he notices the car parked further away from his house than usual

“Nah that foo is on the other side of town, with some hyna”

He sat back in the chair. Glad that the day was over all he wanted to do was chill and sleep. Sad Eyes had kept him busy all day like you two had planned. 

A few more minutes pass and you get a text from Baldie telling you their location  

“Alright guys they are getting ready to pull up!” 

“Turn your phones off, turn the light off!” Cesar directs as you all crouched down 

You hear them walking up to the house, the keys jingling against the door,  as soon as the door opens you switch on the lights and scream a mixture of “SURPRISE!!/SOPRESA!!”

He backs up in shock hand behind his back on his gun “Yooo what the fuck?!”

“Don’t shoot” Cesar says, cautiously walking forward 

“What’s going on?” he asks still not wanting to enter the house

Sad Eyes pushes him inside “AHHHH get in there homie its your birthday bro you think we wouldn't celebrate?!” 

“Damn men you did all this?” he asks Cesar, looking around at the decorations, it wasn’t much but enough to signal a celebration was taking place

“Nah your girl did, but happy birthday Mano love you” 

“Love you too” 

He makes his way around the room receiving birthday wishes and greeting from the crowd before he makes it to you

“Surprise!” you say excitedly “You like it?”

“Yea.. you didn’t hav...” 

“Come on!” you say cutting him off and grabbing his hand, pulling him to the back where he they were cooking food. He remembers smelling the food and wondering who in the neighborhood was grilling, feeling hungry himself. “I got the owner of Apetito’s Food Truck to come cook for you!” Apetito was his favorite food truck in L.A. 

“You did this for me?” 

“Yes!” 

He feels a rush of emotion, but before he can express himself the Santos boys step outside. 

“Drink up big homie!” Lucky hands him a cup “we gotta get you fucked up! Come on!” 

He looked at you

“It’s okay go I’m not going anywhere”  you were actually watching the Apetito guys cook the food so you could replicate it in the future. 

After everyone eats you guys sing happy birthday to him. He’s asked to give a speech, when he does, he starts to get emotional halfway through and cuts it short saying “LETS GET FUCKED UP TONIGHT!” 

~~~A few hours pass and you two finally have a moment together, he walks up to you licking his lips rubbing his chin which causes you to laugh. You always thought he looked funny when he did that.

“You look good!” he comments

“Gracias guapo!” you say reaching out to caress his neck 

“You did all this for me?” he asks moving closer to you

“Yea!” He smiles leaning in to give you a kiss “Uh!Uh!” you shake your head pushing him away, avoiding his kiss

“What?” he asks seizing you up before looking you in the eyes 

“We are not....” He reaches for you hand and  holds it above your head  “do a spin for me”  You do so as instructed “damn you look good and you all mine?” 

You put your hand up to stop him “We are not together remember?” you point out the very heated confrontation you two had 2 weeks ago where he almost killed Sad Eyes, if it wasn’t for you blaming it all on you he would have beaten Sad Eyes to a pulp. But when you blamed it on yourself his wrath turned to you.  “What did you call me?” you look up at the ceiling, finger on your chin  “Oh! a thot? Puta? Prostituta? Verdad?? There were other words, and you kicked me out of your house told me to get my shit!” you recant jokingly. At the time it was shocking for you to hear all those words thrown at you but you knew that you couldn’t tell him the reason you were with Sad Eyes or it would ruin the surprise.

“I’m sorry bebita”  he apologizes sincerely, invading your personal space “Don’t be sorry Spooky” in the heat of the moment he had told you to never call him Oscar it was Spooky from here on out “and I’m not bebita, I’m Y/N remember?” 

“Don’t call me that. Come on what i gotta do?”  he pleads

You put your hands on his shoulders “Enjoy your party, stop worrying about me!”  there were issues you two needed to discuss and you didn’t want to sweep them under the rug

“But what if you’re my party”

You give him a look “I am not your party!” 

He laughs 

“Here take a shot with me!” you bargain grabbing a shot glass 

“You really not gone give me a kiss?” he asks in disbelief “just ONE kiss?” 

“Nope!” you hand him his shot glass “here to you and your birthday, salud” 

“Salud,How bout a hug?”

You laugh shaking your head “No hug” 

He throws his head back whining “come on mami please” he begs

You smile watching him throw a fit, without warning he leans into you causing you to have to support his weight “Oscar!” you complain in between a giggle fit

“Who's gonna take care of me then?” he speaks close to your ear 

“Cesar, Sad Eyes,” you state matter of fact  

“I don't want them i want you”  he says wrapping his one arm around your waist

You shake your head and hum “Mm-mm! Not me i'm going home after this, I’m tired this took a lot” 

He smacks his lips and stands up straight “you really gon leave me on my birthday?”

“I am with you on your birthday!” you argue

“Bebita lo siento!” 

“I know stop worrying about me, come on”  you say pushing him off “dance with me!” 

He smiles as you pull him into the makeshift dance floor. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him, he puts them behind your back and holds them there as he leans in for a kiss which only makes you lean back, you two play this game until he gives up, and puts his forehead on yours. 

“Mad at me?”

You shake your head

Letti interrupts you guys to say “Your girl got love for you Spooky, consider yourself lucky” “Trust me I know” “Happy birthday cabron” 

“Thanks Letti” 

When she walks away he returns his attention back to you

“So why can’t i get my kisses?”

“Because we need to talk and it's your birthday i just want you to enjoy all of it!” 

“Why can't we talk about it now?”

You shrug “I just..” 

Before you finish he cuts you off “No i want things to be cool between us now!” 

“In time mi rey. But in the meantime we drink and dance and eat cake and be merry!” 

He pouts 

“Come on it's your birthday, your family is here, you’re around good company” you try to lighten up his mood 

“Yea but you won't kiss me” 

“I don't need your kiss for us to be okay” “Yea but I do” you learned early into the relationship that one of his love languages is touch. It didn’t matter what was happening he had to touch you in some shape or form the only time he refrained was when you two were in public, but even then as you two grew closer he cared less and less about his reputation as ‘Spooky’ to onlookers. Plus it wasn’t like he couldn’t switch up in a moment's notice when needed. 

“How about kiss on the cheek?” 

“No i want our kisses, our special good luck kisses” 

“Friends don’t kiss”

“You're not gonna let this go are you?”

“Nope!”

“Fine i'll do what you say”

“FINALLY! Now let's drink!” you say as you hand him another shot  

~~~~The night proceeds as planned and by the end of it he is so drunk you need some of the guys to help you put him to bed. You spent the night but left in the morning, you had errands to run, you planned on returning later in the day, so it wasn’t a big deal. When you do return he’s still in bed. Laying on his back looking at the ceiling. You assume trying to get over a monster hangover.

“Hey” you speak softly as you walk in he lifts his head up before plopping back down on the pillow “You had fun last night?”

“You left me” he states flatly 

“I did not! I was sleeping right there!”  you say pointing to the space next to him, 

“So how come I woke up to you gone?” 

You can’t quite tell if he’s mad at you or he’s feeling the full effects of the hangover

“I had to go!” 

“Here you go with that i had to go shit” he hates when you say that

You giggle “Here” you say handing him bottles of Gatorade. “Drink these, i got you a sandwich from your favorite place downtown, go shower then we can talk”

He looks up at you and sighs before sitting up

“If I didn't care about you would I do all this?” 

He smirks before taking a sip of the drink “faking it”

Your mouth hangs open “how rude!” you say picking up a pillow to hit him with 

He erupts in laughter dodging your hits

“See this is why we need to stay friends”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he speaks quickly, trying to repair whatever damage was caused.  He pulls you closer to sit on his lap You cross your arms “Mhmm”

“I didnt even get birthday sex! So you can’t be mad at me” 

“Sex is no gift, told you that before” 

“Speak for yourself lady”

~~~~~Roughly an hour passes before he feels refreshed and ready to listen to you. 

“So what you wanna talk ‘bout?” 

“So!” you begin 

He chuckles, it was always funny how you started your ‘serious’ conversations. 

“Laugh all you want but we might not be getting back together”

His smile fell, “stop playing”

“I am not playing. I came to the realization when you almost freaking punched Sad Eyes you don’t trust me!” 

“I do!” he says reaching for you 

“You don't, stop” you say pushing his hand away 

“Why?”  

“I need you to listen to what i'm saying to you.” 

“Okay i'm listening mami” he sits back 

“Okay so after I came to the realization I decided that we can’t get back together until we address your trust issues. Then I started wondering hmm did i do something? Was there anything about my behaviour, anything that I said that warrants lack of trust from my boyfriend? And no! There’s nothing, maybe in the beginning when we are getting to know each other but no i have been what do y’all say? ‘10 toes down’ in this relationship and you my good friend you have been half way in half way out. You’re 5 toes down i don't know where the other five are they are somewhere in the abyss maybe with that girl that flirts with you every chance she gets”

He shakes his head “That's not true”

“So why don’t you trust me?”

“I do” 

“You don’t, not the way you reacted, it was like you had prepared yourself for something to happen. Or maybe you were looking for a reason not to trust me and I gave you the perfect excuse.” 

“Y/N” 

“Oscar, I got into a fight with my mom over you!” you finally reveal “Slap right on the face.” you point to the cheek that was slapped.  “Only for my boyfriend to be partially committed!” 

“I am committed, but you're right i do have trust issues and i need to work on them bebe” 

“Did i do something?” “No magdalena”

“Are you sure?”

“YES” he stresses 

You narrow your eyes not believing “Hmm”

He reaches for you and pulls you closer “Come here I’m sorry, i apologize, lo siento, what do i have to say?” 

“You don't have to say anything i don't want you to be sorry im not mad”

“You're not?”

“No i just want to know why” 

He remains quiet looking at you 

“You think i'm gonna get up and walk away one day? Is that it? I’m just gonna up and leave and be like ‘yup i’m done,  i don't care about you anymore have a nice life. I’m done with you, done with this shit’ is that it?”

Even though he says nothing he adjusts, and if you know Oscar like you think you do. You know you hit a nerve.You wait for him to respond but he just looks at you

“Oscar”

“Hmm” he wears a blank look on his face 

“I asked you a question!” 

He runs his hand down his face, and takes in a deep breath “yea, actually i do think one day you’ll decide you don’t wanna be with me” 

You move closer and rub his cheek “i would never hurt you like that” 

“But you will get tired of this gang shit” 

“Yea,” you say with a duh tone “who wants to live like this? But i'm not gonna walk away remember we talked about you walking away” 

He nods

“So we will figure it out”

You two stay silent doing nothing but staring at each other, before a smile creeps up on his face

“Why are you smiling?” you ask leaning back

He shakes his head, pulling you to straddle his lap “nothing just realized how much I love you, got me looking like a softie in front of everyone”

You roll your neck smiling “Got you eating out of my palm”

He pulls you in to give you a kiss, and after he is satisfied from the kisses he pulls back so he can look at you “We good?”  he asks as he caresses your cheek

“I guess we can reinstate our relationship status”

“So about that birthday sex..”

“Oh god” 

He laughs as he plants kisses on your neck. 

A/N: Alright tell me what you guys think! 

[detectivedreameater]

Home For The Holidays || Erin and Marley

TIMING: Christmas Day PARTIES: @corpse--diem and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Erin and Marley celebrate Christmas together for the first time, and some things come to light. CONTENT: Alcohol, Kissing/Touching, Domestic Abuse mention

Over the past few weeks, Erin had been checking in on Marley regularly-- and she’d helped her get a scheduling journal set up, which meant Marley’s pile of sticky notes had been reduced to only one corner of the room. Although there were still a few random ones placed around, like over JD’s food bowl, in the bathroom, and in her bedroom, the place was much less of a mess of them now. And it was working fairly well. She hadn’t had another seizure or episode in almost a week, and that had to be improvement, right? It had to be. And that meant that things were going relatively well, she’d even been able to convince work to let her at least start working on cases on paper. Field work would be assessed later, but she didn't let herself think about that just yet, and how her...condition might affect that. She was trying that whole ‘“looking on the bright side” thing. Might as well give it a shot, right? She had nothing left to lose anymore. Well, except Erin. 

Today was their scheduled weekly organizing day, where Erin would come over to help Marley plan out her week and set reminders. It was also Christmas. It was...oddly sweet that she wanted to do this for Marley, and Marley was still trying to get used to the idea of letting someone help take care of her. It felt almost sad having to depend so much on one person, but after their fight, the realization that she needed this or she was going to spiral was one she couldn’t ignore any longer. She’d pushed away almost everyone in her life, and things kept reminding her of what the world wanted her to believe she was-- a monster. But she wanted to be better. And ignoring her condition would only end in one way, and even if it still pained Marley to admit it, she didn’t want that. She’d survived Roy’s attack for a reason, and she wasn’t going to throw away this chance again. Even if she still felt like half a person, losing blocks of time and bits of herself. One thing at a time, she reminded herself. One thing at a time. Today, she would concentrate on Erin. From her office, she heard the jingle of the keys and the door open and she leaned back, looking towards the entryway. “In here!” she called out, flipping the case she’d been working on closed. Today, she would try and give herself a break.

This wasn’t the way Erin expected to spend her Christmas. She wasn’t complaining, of course. There’d been far too many points this year that made her doubt getting this far. Being here, being alive only made the desire to squeeze as much goodness as she could out of today. Couldn’t get worse than last year. Alone, fresh from burying her father with a refrigerator full of organs in the basement. Bags hung from each arm as she trudged up to Marley’s front door and let herself in. Didn’t think about how normal that was now that she was here at least a few times a week. It was her new normal as much as Marley’s. She didn’t mind it. Building that trust back up was a slow roll, and Marley was expectantly impatient and angry during these organization sessions. This was hard. For both of them. They were both mending and learning all at once but real progress was being made. 

“Hey, Merry Christmas!” Her voice rang out into the apartment as she kicked the door shut behind her. JD scurried somewhere, the little thumps of his feet padding along the floor. Apparently he wasn’t ready to say hello just yet. The feeling was mutual. She dumped the bags gently onto the kitchen counters before moseying over towards the office and greeted her with a bright smile. “After we’re done getting you squared away, I brought along some goodies. Hope you didn’t make any other plans for today because I’m not going anywhere,” she teased gently, pulling off the thick winter peacoat on her back. “How’re you feeling today?”

“Same as everyday, Pinky,” Marley answered back dryly. “Er-- yea. Happy-- Jesus birthday or whatever.” She didn’t really celebrate this holiday, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. The first few foster homes she’d been in had tried-- but getting a gift for ten plus children was hard, and Marley wasn’t a fan of hand-me-down barbie dolls. Except to pull their heads off of and color on them with red paint. Sometimes she’d leave them around the house for the other kids to find, and laugh when they screamed. So most homes had stopped gifting her anything, because what else generic did you get a young girl? She looked back over at Erin. “What else would I be doing, anyway? Oh, right-- drinking at bars alone. Yeah, sounds great on a day like this.” Rolled her eyes, but it was playful, as were her words. She peered curiously at the bags on the counter. “What’d you bring?” she asked, already standing to head over to them. “No, we can do that later. Let’s do this first.” Maybe this time Erin would fall for it and she could get away with not having to think about how shitty she felt every day, and how, after she’d started writing everything down, her black outs could no longer be ignored.

“I don’t know but that sounds depressing any day,” Erin remarked, raising a brow in her direction, more concern than judgment in her voice. Just wasn’t a way she enjoyed picturing someone she cared about. “Hey, no peeking!” she hopped after her, covering the tops of them with her hands. “After we do what we need to do, you can see,” she said with the exaggerated conviction of a mother scolding her child for wanting a snack before dinner. It wasn’t like this was her favorite thing to do either but it was a necessity not even Christmas could stop. A reliable routine mattered more than ever. She grabbed her journal from her bag with one hand and Marley’s hand in the other, tugging her to the kitchen table. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s get it over with,” she smirked. Left Marley and the notebook at the table and started plucking down post-it notes, focusing on the ones that had less to do with daily reminders and more on the things that needed immediate attention. “I know it’s tedious and annoying, but it’s important. You know?” She paused briefly, glancing up from the neon papers in her hand. “Do you feel like this is helping? She asked, genuinely curious. It seemed like it was, and getting organized was never a bad thing, but it meant more than that in Marley’s case. 

“Well, considering I mostly did that to cruise, it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Marley pointed out. But she hadn’t done that in a long time now. Because she’d had Anita, and even when she’d ruined that, she had Lydia. And then after that...she had Erin. Maybe not in the same ways as Anita and Lydia, but Erin was the last person standing in her life. And her company, though reluctantly accepted at first, was welcomed now. It was...nice. Marley frowned playfully. “But mooooom,” she whined, rolling her eyes. Trudged back to the office and sat back down, opening up the notebook. “Unfortunately,” she grumbled, scribbling in the corner, “it helps a lot. Maybe too much. Not sure I like knowing how much of my day I actually lose.” She flicked one of the sticky notes-- the one with all her timestamps on it-- and glanced over at Erin. “Who knew brain damage was so serious, right?” she joked, even if her face remained stark. She wasn’t sure if they were okay enough to joke about this sort of thing yet-- but Marley didn’t really care. It was her injury, she could joke about it if she wanted to. “But, uh-- seriously. It helps.” She shrugged. “Now hurry up and finish, I wanna drink this really expensive tequila one of my colleagues sent me.”

“Cruise?” Erin started to ask before it dawned on her. “Ah. Right. Gotcha. Knowing who you are as a person, that makes more sense,” she teased. Wasn’t how Erin handled that kind of thing but she was the last one to judge someone else for it. Sometimes it struck her how different they were for how close they’d become over the last six months. There were probably more differences than similarities, if she was being honest. Turns out a deep need for revenge and enduring traumatic, violent attacks could be a pretty decent bonding agent though. Worked well enough for them, anyway. But it was a relief to know that this was helping. That the hours and hours they were putting in here were amounting to something tangible. “Good,” was all she said, not trying to put Marley too much on the spot and scare her away. Stood beside her as she moved back to the table, absently running her finger along her shoulder as she read through the notes. “Hey,” she said, stiffening a bit. “What’s--uh, this one about?” She asked, dropping one in front of her. “Call foster home about birth certificate.” She dropped the note in front of Marley and sat down beside her, shuffling through the others, not thinking too much about her question. “Is that a work thing, or…?” The other implication of her question dawned on her and her eyes jumped up to Marley’s. “Is that a you thing?”

Marley thought very little about Erin’s close proximity to her, or her hand on her shoulder, as she watched her shuffle through the notes Marley had left around for her to organize. It almost felt relaxing, even if in the back of her mind, Marley still felt that strange prickle of anger inside of her chest. When Erin spoke up again, she stopped scribbling in the journal and looked down at the note she had set down in front of her. It was Marley’s turn to stiffen. She’d forgotten about that note-- which was entirely the point of these sessions, but that didn’t matter in the end-- until this moment, and something clicked in her head about how she meant to throw that one away. She picked it up off the desk and crumpled it, dumping it in the trash under the table. “It’s an irrelevant thing now,” she murmured, understanding that her response alone gave Erin the answer even if her words did not. “There’s no point in getting it anymore.” 

Erin narrowed her eyes at the abruptness in which Marley crumpled up the note, tossed it aside like the contents meant nothing. If there was anything she’d learned it was that Marley spoke more with her actions than her words, especially when it came to this sort of thing. “Oh-kay,” she answered, seemingly moving on with the organizational process. “Guess that means you’re not going to answer my question?” She asked, jotting down a note for Marley’s calendar for later in the week. Without looking at her, she tilted her head, discarding another note, raising an eyebrow. “Or maybe you did.” Marley didn’t talk about her parents often--or ever, really--but it made sense why, if that note held any truth for Marley. 

Marley watched Erin closely for a moment, as she jotted something down on the calendar. Realizing too late that it was the note she’d just crumpled. She clenched her jaw a little, but knew that even if Erin acted like she was going to drop it, she never really would. And hadn’t Marley decided to stop being so closed off? At least with Erin. She had to try somewhere, right? Rubbing her eyes again, she let out a heavy, audible sigh. “It’s complicated,” she mumbled and remembered how much Anita hated that word and felt her stomach burn. “I just mean-- yes, it’s about me. I was looking into some stuff before things got...really bad.” Because she felt some strange sort of compulsion for it, and the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to know. “I was looking into tracking down my birth parents.”

Ah, there it was. The sound of caving. Erin knew she’d earn that eventually but it came quicker than she anticipated. Maybe Marley was finally coming around, opening up to her in ways she was reluctant to before. Maybe, just maybe, their talk from a few weeks prior had paved the way for more progress than she’d realized. “Oh. I didn’t realize,” she started, and felt silly the moment she said it. Of course she didn’t know, both that she was looking and that this was something that Marley needed to do at all. “Why is it irrelevant now? Do you... not want to know anymore?” She asked, fussing with the post it notes. There wasn’t much more to the task at hand, and the rest of the post-it notes were categorized, but she kept her hands busy writing excessive notes and pretending to sort through them again. She had her full attention but staring at Marley while asking her such a personal question didn’t feel like that was the way to go here. 

“Well, it’s not like I talk about it much,” Marley admitted quietly. Or at all. She never shared these parts of herself, they were dark and painful and cold, so she hid them away. With sealed records and compartmentalized memories, she kept them behind locked doors in her mind and in real life. But she was growing weary of them, and whatever was melting its way through her barricades was also telling her it was okay to let someone in. And of all the people to let in, Erin was the least dangerous. And probably the most worthy of it. “I wanted to know why they gave me up,” she answered quietly, her voice fragile in a way it never really had been before. Small and tempered, as if she were afraid. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, if it’s not going to change anything.” It doesn’t matter anymore if she couldn’t even stay inside her own brain enough to be herself.

Erin slowed down her movements, watching Marley cautiously as she explained herself. It was brief, to the point, like it typically was with Marley, but she’d learned to read a little between the lines at this point. She didn’t need to be able to read her to recognize how difficult this was for her to admit, though. This would be hard for anyone. She reached over, placing her hand on top of hers gently. “It won’t. You’re still you, no matter what they say, you know. If you were ever to find out why, I mean. You’re pretty badass, you know--that’s not something they can take away from you no matter what.” She offered a small smile, wishing she knew the best way to navigate this. “But… if you wanted to do that, to look them up, you’ve got my support and you know I’d be glad to help. But you also don’t have to. It’s entirely up to you, Marley.”

The hand placed on top of Marley’s almost made her jump-- it was a gentle action that she was woefully unused to. Her eyes went up to meet Erin’s, finding something in them that she hadn’t really known she was searching for-- validation. A gentleness around the subject, as if she knew the fragileness of it. And of course she did. Erin knew Marley better than anyone else, even Anita. She stiffened and swallowed at the thought, looking away. “I feel like I have to know,” she finally admitted quietly, “because right now, I don’t know anything. I don’t know who I am anymore, or who I want to be, and if I could know why they gave me up-- why they let me get passed around foster home after foster home-- maybe I could understand why things turned out the way they did.” She pulled her hand away so she could fold her arms across her chest, a subconscious way to protect herself. “But I guess just like everything else, I don’t know what I want anymore.” 

Erin nodded slowly as listened, absorbing as much of this new information about Marley as she could while still trying to be helpful. If not helpful then just a sounding board, someone for Marley to express her thoughts and fears with. “You deserve those answers. You do. If they’re there. They might not, either, you know? It’s not a fun option but it's a real one.” She bit her lip, watching her withdraw. “It’s not something you have to make a decision about right now, either. You have time. God knows you’ve got so much on your plate as it is so… maybe when you’re ready and you’re able, you still have that time.” When Marley pulled away from her, she reached for the past of post-it notes and rewrote it, sticking it back onto the space where they were usually cluttered. “There,” she nodded, glancing back, a small encouraging smile on her lips. “Doesn’t need to be on the calendar just yet. But we won’t forget about it. How’s that?”

Marley's immediate reaction was to protest. No, this was stupid. No, she was stupid for wanting to do that. For wanting to know about them. They had given her up for a reason-- because they didn’t want her. Why would looking for them, why would trying to find them, make that any different? Why did Marley want so much for that to not be the reason? Too many what ifs clouded her thoughts and she watched silently as Erin stuck the note back on the board. She swallowed thickly. “Okay,” was all she said, looking away again and to the calendar they’d filled out. She unfurled her arms slowly, closing it. “Can we go drink now?” she asked, trying to move her voice from the shaky mutter it had been before to her more usual drone. 

The hesitation in Marley’s eyes only confirmed how uncertain she felt about the whole thing. Just because someone wanted something didn’t mean they were ready for it, in whatever capacity that entailed. There was still so much healing she had to do still and Erin was thankful she wasn’t immediately jumping into this. It was still there on the table though--or the board, more accurately. It wouldn’t be forgotten. When she was ready, they could go back to it. She let out a soft laugh and nodded. “Yes, please,” she said, giving Marley’s shoulder a quick squeeze as she moved passed her. “How about you get the good stuff and I’ll get your surprise?” She raised her eyebrows cheekily, trying to reinsert some excitement back into the room. Even if she felt a pang of nervousness when she grabbed the bag with her gift inside. It was probably stupid and definitely overly sentimental, and she was already preparing for the relentless teasing she was bound to get. With a heave, she set the bag on the table with a clunk. “I didn’t know how to wrap it so--here you go.”

Marley was extremely thankful for the change of mood as Erin gave her that look. She smirked under the weariness and felt herself re-energizing already, leaping up from the chair and following her out back into the living room. “One bottle of extra fancy tequila, coming up!” she said, grabbing two of her more fancy tumblers, the bottle that that one co-worker had felt obliged to give her, and some salt and limes. Doctor Lin-King had strongly advised against heavy drinking, but it was holiday, and that meant rules didn’t apply, right? She wasn’t sure, she’d never really celebrated before. The clunk on the table startled her ever so and she looked at the bag Erin presented her with, slowly setting the glasses and bottle down. “What is it?” she asked, cautiously skeptic. She raised a brow, as if trying to peer into the bag, but not moving to open it yet. “Wrap it? You mean like--” A gift. Or present, rather. Erin had gotten her a Christmas present. Marley felt her throat suddenly tightening. “Oh,” was all she said, still not moving to open it.

Erin was busy eyeing the tequila bottle, lifting it to inspect how fancy Marley kept insisting it was. “I’ve never heard of it so it must be fancy,” she chuckled, sitting on the top of the table and popped open the top of the bottle. “Oh, that’s fancy. It might be too fancy for either one of us.” She grinned over at her, watching her tentatively poke at the present but not quite opening it. Clearing her throat, she started to pour into the tumblers Marley brought out, watching her out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah. A gift. Because it’s Christmas, dummy,” she teased her before handing her the other glass. Put her hand on top of the bag to stop her from opening it just yet. Held her glass up towards Marley, her smile softening into something more genuine and a little shy. “So, before you open it--Merry Christmas, Marley,” she nodded once, pausing. “There’s no other scrooge out there I’d rather be spending it with.”

Marley kept her eyes on the bag, even as Erin spoke. She only looked up when Erin put her hand on the bag and held the glass out to her. She took it but simply held it in front of her, still confused, visibly, by the action. She met Erin’s eyes, feeling a strange burning in her chest. It rose into her throat and her cheeks then her eyes and suddenly she was blinking and looking away. “Sorry, I don’t--” she wiped her face on her sleeve, shaking her head, “no one’s ever--” she looked at the gift on the table and wondered if context clues were enough, because the words wouldn’t come. She cleared her throat and readjusted herself, shaking off the strange feeling and raising her glass to meet Erin’s. “Merry-- yeah, Merry Christmas, Erin,” she said quietly, feeling an unstoppable smile twitch on to her face. She smothered it quickly by drowning it in tequila, grabbing a lime and biting into it, before holding one out for Erin. “If Im Scrooge, what’s that make you?” she asked once they were done.

It took more than a few moments for Erin to get it but once she did, her narrowed eyes grew wide and she could feel herself soften even further at the sight of Marley’s composure wavering. More than anyone, even the glimpse of Marley’s tears always got her hard and tight in the chest. Maybe she was biased but she felt like she had a pretty good grasp on Marley, on her heart, and it always ached when she got less than she deserved. “You’re okay,” she assured her quietly, trying to stop her voice from cracking, gripping the top of the table tight enough for her knuckles to whiten. More nervous now about the contents of her present than she was before. She tossed the drink back, thankful it went down smooth--it was really good tequila--and started to pour another as she chewed on the lime in her mouth. Laughed softly, shaking her head. “Hell if I know. Maybe the Ghost of Christmas Future. They always had that cool death thing going on. And a cool outfit.” She smiled up at her, nervously glancing at the present, then back to Marley, and then back down to her new cup. “Will you open it already?” She teased, nodding towards the bag. 

“Admittedly,” Marley said with a shrug, “I’ve never actually seen that. Or read it?” She wasn’t even sure what type of media it actually was. It was probably all of them, knowing Christmas culture. And saying that she’d never gotten a present wasn’t entirely true-- the group home had Christmas morning parties, in which each kid got to pick one thing from a table of wrapped gifts, but it wasn’t the same. No one had ever taken the time to pick something out for Marley and wrap and it bring it to her. Maybe her adopted parents had at one point, but she couldn’t remember them, and they’d given her back before she’d had a chance to. Shaking away those stupid memories as well, Marley finally moved to open the gift, finding her hands shaky at best. She set the glass down and slid it towards Erin, a quiet gesture for her to refill it, and prodded the bag open. Inside sat a cool, marble box like object. Marley instantly recognized it as an urn. Confused, she pulled it out and set it on the table, looking up at Erin as if the answer were on her face. 

But inside it, she found the answer. The lid was solid but not heavy and she set it gently aside, reaching in to pull out the first object-- an actual real life, goddamn photograph of her and Erin. She didn’t remember when it had been taken, exactly, but they were smiling, and the flash of the camera was reflecting off Marley’s glasses just enough to barely cover the smirk on her lips. And Erin was the one holding the camera, of course, flashing a bright smile. Marley set it aside when she noticed there was more in the box, but the picture still stuck in her mind-- she couldn’t really recall a time she’d been happier than that one. 

Underneath the photo was an old certificate. It was the winner’s certificate they’d gotten from beating the Escape Room first, gold stamp and fake signature and all. Marley had let Erin keep it as her trophy, seeing as, at the time, Marley hadn’t really cared to keep mementos from or for anything. Now, she wished she had. She set that aside, too, still not having said a word. Because the next thing inside made her laugh out loud. A roll of duct tape next to a DVD of A Nightmare On Elm Street. And next to that, a bottle of Johnny Walker. She couldn’t even reach in and pull it out because she was laughing and crying and she found herself so caught between the two emotions, she didn’t even know what to say.

Erin watched quietly as Marley finally started to open the bag, unable to stop the nervousness biting at her bones. She hid a half smile behind another big sip of the tequila, watching carefully. “It’s--that’s an urn. A real one. I figured even if you didn’t like the rest of the present, I know you’re morbid enough to enjoy a bonafide urn to put on display in your house.” It was one of the many qualities she loved about Marley. She could talk about the weird, creepy things she did on a daily basis and she could keep up better than most people she knew. Her confidence continued to waver in large leaps as she watched Marley unfold the contents within, unsure if it was the tequila anymore that was making her cheeks flush. She was so silent it made her stomach turn and she was chuckling quietly like an idiot, covering her mouth with her hand. She wasn’t rolling her eyes or giving her that Marley certified look, so maybe she hadn’t fucked up entirely? 

“I just thought--well, the note says what I thought. But you know, after everything this year and… everything you’re going through right now, I just thought--” she cleared her throat, holding the glass on her lap, running her thumb against the side. “I wanted something to remind you that despite everything, all the shit we went through and all the stuff we’re still trying to sort through--there is good stuff.” She smiled sheepishly, shaking her head. Her heart pounded so loud she swore Marley could hear it above her laughing. “And if you thought all of that was stupid, you’ve still got your precious Johnny in there to make up for all of it.”

Marley didn’t need to read the note to know what Erin meant. She was still smiling, uncontrollably, her breath coming up as little huffs as she tried to stop the laughter in her throat. She wiped at her eyes again and looked at Erin and suddenly, so suddenly, the feeling in her chest made sense. And with the realization, warmth blossomed throughout her entire body and she knew, without a doubt, that this was happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness. And the only other time she’d ever felt this way was with Anita, and she didn’t want to think about that right now. She wanted to live in this moment, this moment where she could be happy and pretend like she hadn’t ruined all the good things in her life, and she could pretend she didn’t have a lifelong injury, and she could pretend like tomorrow would be as good as this day. “It’s perfect,” she finally said, moving around the table closer to Erin. “All of it, I can’t even--” she glanced back at it, then to Erin-- “I didn’t get you anything.” And this close to Erin, she could see the flush on her cheeks, and the way her eyes had that little sparkle to them, and the weary lines around her eyes that seemed almost permanent now. And she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, as she reached out and took Erin’s face between her hands and kissed her. 

Marley’s smile was more comforting than she’d ever know. It was downright infectious, actually, and Erin’s lips twitched upward in a grin that nearly matched the one beaming at her. She did good. That’s what Marley’s smile told her more than anything. She liked it, sentiment and sappy as it was. The relief that came with that was unparalleled and she had to blink a few times realizing that Marley was talking. Right. Words. “No, don’t worry about it,” she started, theat drumming in her chest quickening in tempo as Marley drew closer. She looked happy. Really, truly happy--happier than she’d seen her in so, so long. It was hard to not let it affect her, to fall headfirst into that feeling. When was the last time she’d felt that herself? To feel something other than the rage or the coldness the dark had brought for as long as she could remember. Marley’s lips against hers were unexpected but they were warm and despite her brain screaming distantly in the background, they were welcome against her own. Maybe something had clicked, maybe some deeply buried flood of emotions were loosening themselves into the night, maybe she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing at all--but she couldn’t stop herself from kissing her back. She just knew right now she felt good, just like how Marley felt good. And safe. She felt herself let go just a little bit more as she wrapped her arms around her waist and deepened the kiss, pulling her in against her. 

Marley moved mostly off of instinct, and feeling. Something like this was natural to her. And somehow it felt more natural, knowing it was Erin. She tasted like tequila and a hint of lime and Marley wondered what in the world had made her want to do this. Maybe it was the idea of being so happy she couldn’t think straight, or maybe that was the tequila. Or maybe she just craved the feeling of being touched, of being wanted. Maybe this had been something that had been building between them for longer than either of them really knew. And maybe other people and past feelings didn’t matter right now. It was a holiday, after all, they should get to enjoy themselves, right? Merry goddamn Christmas was right. She let Erin pull her closer, kissing her harder, desperate and hungry, as she was wont to do. She couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d been held like this-- she knew it was with Anita, but the memory was only a flicker. At the thought, she pulled away, using the moment to take a breather, chest already heaving. “I--” she started, but found she didn’t know exactly what to say, “is this…” she swallowed, looked into Erin’s eyes, “okay?” Another smile twitched on her lips. “It was all I could think of in the moment..” she tacked on, grinning.

Erin would be a damn liar if she hadn’t thought about this before. Passively, quickly, and onto the next thought--but she’d thought about it nonetheless. There’d always been something that had drawn her to Marley from the very beginning, she was attractive, and there was no one who knew her quite like Marley did. There were two very good reasons why this hadn’t happened before, and she closed her eyes when Marley pulled away, trying not to think of either one of them. Two things neither of them had anymore and it was  hard not to feel them in a big way right now, even if all she wanted to think about was Marley’s lips. “It’s okay,” she nodded, opening her eyes to find Marley’s bright grin. This was fine. That gnawing, low down fear in her stomach was just nerves. This was fine. She wouldn’t be smiling at her like that if this wasn’t okay. She trusted her, trusted that smile, even if she didn’t totally trust herself. “I mean, it’s good. Really good. Not just okay,” she chuckled, her hand still gripping her waist firmly. When she’d caught her breath, she lifted one hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her lips back down to hers, a little more desperate than before. This was good, it was fine--they both wanted this, wanted to forget, to feel something for a little while. Erin was more than happy to indulge for a little while longer. 

Good. This was good. Erin said it was good. Marley nodded once before she was folding back into her, ready to let everything else slip away from her, from them. Leave behind all the shit they’d been through and the people they’d hurt or lost or pushed away. Because this was easy, it had always been easy for Marley. To lose herself, to forget, to let go. To focus on just the physical feeling and not the despair or the loneliness or the pain that would otherwise fill that space. It’s what she’d done for years and thought she would do until the day she died. And the idea-- the thought-- that she could have something more, felt as if it were suffocating now. The idea that she could have had more, but let it slip through her fingers. The idea that she was afraid of having more because it meant opening herself in a way she’d never been open before. Because having more meant feeling someone else’s hurt. And she wanted to forget all of that, leave that all behind. Because right here, and right now, she had enough. She had Erin. She had the feeling, the thought, somewhere in the back of her mind, that maybe this had been inevitable. Maybe she’d always wanted to do this. Maybe she just wanted to feel something real again. She moved in closer, still kissing Erin, deeper, harder, wanting to fall into the taste and the feel. Her hands moved lower, pressed against the table behind Erin for a moment, before she found them grabbing at the bottom of Erin’s shirt, fingers ghosting underneath. What she would give to feel this again. What she would give to let herself believe this feeling. If only it were that easy. 

Something changed the moment Erin felt Marley’s hands drifting below her shirt. The touch startled her out of whatever haze she’d fallen into, knocking some sense into her. It was that panic, that fear that had been slowly dredging up from the pit of her stomach since Marley had first pulled her in and kissed her. “Marley, wait--stop,” she breathed, rearing back. Her hand covered her lips and she inched away from the table, away from Marley. Her chest heaved for breath and her mind raced as the panic surged in her. What the fuck where they doing? This wasn’t right. It felt good but everything in her mind suddenly woke up and was screaming at her, reminding her that this wasn’t right. “I can’t--we can’t,” she finally looked up, trying to find Marley’s eyes, slowly shaking her head. “You’re my best friend, Marley. And I don’t want to lose--we just--we can’t.”

The action startled Marley enough that she stumbled when Erin pushed her and stared, bewildered. Did she-- not like it? Hadn’t Marley just asked if it was okay? Had she done something wrong? It felt like stones had dumped into her stomach and she felt suddenly sick. “Why does that matter?” she asked, blinking. Her brows knit together as she tried to understand what Erin meant. Why couldn’t they? It was just kissing and maybe sex. It wasn’t like it was anything they hadn’t thought about. It wasn’t like it had to mean anything. Marley’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and she turned away, wiping a hand across her face. “It’s not like-- it doesn’t have to mean anything,” she said, still bewildered, still unsure why erin was making that face or why she looked as if Marley had just slapped her. “I don’t-- see why it matters.”

Erin’s eyes burned at Marley’s reaction. She felt as embarrassed as much as she did but it was what she said that hurt in a way she didn’t expect. It doesn’t have to mean anything. “It does. It means something. Maybe not to you--maybe you can just… turn that off, but I can’t. I care about you and I just--I can’t.” Didn’t Marley understand that? This wasn’t a one-off thing for her. She couldn’t do that. Not with Marley. Her fingers combed through her hair and she did her best to take another breath, though the red in her cheeks felt like it was burning right through her. Fuck. Fuck. “Even if it doesn’t matter to you, it matters to me. I should--I should probably just… go,” she mumbled. Shook her head, stepped backwards, and took a deep breath, moving back through her apartment to gather her things. 

Marley felt her chest tightening again. Why did people keep saying that to her? About her? That she could just turn it off, as if she had any control over how she felt. She didn’t and she couldn’t. That wasn’t how it worked. Marley was just good at putting her feelings away because they never mattered-- they didn’t matter. But she didn’t know how to say that, how to respond to that. Erin was turning to leave now and Marley wanted to scream. “Don’t!” she said quickly, taking a step forward, but remembered Erin backing away from her and stopped, pulling back. “Don’t leave. I just-- I’m sorry. I take it back,” she said, “all of it. Even-- we can pretend it didn’t happen, just don’t leave.” She didn’t want to be alone. The feeling struck her like a wrecking ball-- she didn’t want to be alone. She missed Anita. She missed being held. She missed being touched. She missed everything. She’d been so alone and then Erin had fought her way back in and now Marley had done something to upset another person. “And I don’t just shut it off,” she found herself adding, stepping towards Erin fully this time, “I don’t know why everyone thinks I can just fucking-- not feel or pretend to not feel-- but it’s not true. I feel a lot, okay? I feel fucking everything. But it doesn’t matter-- my feelings just...don’t matter.” She found herself running her hands through her hair, gesturing stiffly. “They never mattered, so why would they now?”

Erin startled again in the desperation in Marley’s voice, but still she moved, her hands on her jacket. She hated this feeling, this ugly mortification seeping through her. “That’s not what I meant--” she said, shaking her head. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe it is. I just don’t know how you do it. I can’t… do that, go home with someone and move on the next day.” She felt herself rambling, knew it was the nerves building, allowing the words to keep spilling from her. She closed her eyes, wiping her hand over her eyes, trying to calm herself into expressing herself more rationally. A heavy breath left her during a brief silence before she felt collected enough to try again. “I don’t mean that you don’t have feelings. Because they matter. They do. But this, what you and I have, it’s too important to me and way too fragile to do what we just did. I’ve fucked up so much already and I can’t fuck up this. Not with you.”

Erin was still grabbing her stuff, she was still going to leave, and something visceral snapped in Marley. She reached out and put her hands on Erin’s, gripping tightly. “Please don’t--” she started, then stopped again. Realized what she was doing and let go quickly, backing away. Her eyes caught sight of the gift again and it reminded her of the happiness she’d felt literal minutes ago. Her skin was buzzing. “I don’t-- I don’t know what you mean. I don’t understand how that would it fuck it up?” And she didn’t, she really didn’t. Erin was the exception in her life, someone she’d befriended without sleeping with her. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t make friends the other way, she just never did because she didn’t operate that way. Her chest felt like it was burning. “Just tell me what I did wrong,” she said, a strange desperation to her voice, “just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it and make it better.” And maybe she wasn’t talking about them anymore, even, but they were the only words that were coming out. 

Erin didn’t expect that reaction, couldn’t do more than freeze in place when Marley grabbed her. As much as her brain was telling her to go, her feet wouldn’t move. Not with how Marley was staring at her, pleading with her to stay. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Marley,” she sighed, suddenly tired and reluctant to talk about this. She hadn’t, technically. Up until a few moments ago, Erin hadn’t given any inclination that she didn’t want it. It was still hard to look at her as she tried to find the words, but she put her jacket down. “It would fuck it up because I care about you. A lot. And if we crossed that line, we can’t go back. I can’t go back. I can’t make that separation. And after everything, with Nic just--up and leaving, I can’t do that. I can’t lose someone else. I can’t.” She paused, working her jaw, trying to find the courage to look at Marley again, the pain clear in her voice. Her hand moved to her hip and she looked down again instead, shaking her head. “I’ve got a pretty good feeling neither of us are ready for something like that.”

It made sense, when Erin said it out loud, but the confused look still stuck on Marley’s face. “Wait, so--” she shook her head again, face drawn together in concern as she tried to put the pieces together and understand what it was Erin meant. What she wanted. “You said it was okay, but now you’re saying you...don’t want it?” She looked across at her, then to her jacket, then towards the door. The bottle of tequila, barely any drank. The stack of movies in the living room Marley had set aside for them to cycle through later and laugh at. The certificate on the table. The photo of them. Erin was her best friend, and her only friend. There was a line with her, and if they crossed it, there was no going back. Was she okay with that? Did she want that? She didn’t know. What she did know was that her heart still ached for someone else. And that was enough for her to concede to. She picked up the photo and the certificate and put them back in the urn. “You can leave if you want,” she said after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to mess this up, either.”

“I made a mistake. It was a mistake.” The words flew out of Erin faster and harsher than she intended, and internally she cringed at the delivery... but it answered Marley’s question didn’t it? Her mind raced and she wasn’t sure if was because she was lonely, or because she did feel things about Marley that couldn’t or shouldn’t be reciprocated, or they were caught up in a mess of complicated feelings on an emotional day. She had wanted it despite everything in her now telling her it was a mistake. “Fuck,” she muttered, covering her face with both of her hands, letting loose a frustrated groan into them. She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to console Marley. She didn’t want to, either. Didn’t have the strength herself. “I should go,” she nodded quietly, grabbing her jacket again. “I’m sorry, I just--” she started, waiting for the best words to come to her. “I’m gonna go.” This option didn’t feel good either but it felt like the only one that made sense. There was no way they could just--pretend it didn’t happen and sit around comfortably, watching movies and drinking tequila. It was all she wanted to do but it didn’t seem possible now. “I’m sorry,” she repeated earnestly, shrugging, and stepped back out into the night. Her chest burning furiously the whole way back to her car. Another Merry fucking Christmas. 

Mistake. The word barreled into Marley’s head and ricocheted around and shattered every ounce of happiness she’d been holding onto. It dredged up memories and voices she thought she’d forgotten, and all she could hear was ‘You are a mistake’, ‘Adopting you was a mistake’, ‘Taking you in was a mistake’. She didn’t say anything when as Erin gathered up her stuff. She didn’t say anything as Erin left out the front door and shut and locked it. She didn’t say anything as she walked over to the tequila bottle, hand shaking, and drowned herself in it as much as she could. And when she saw the urn sitting on the table, she lost it. Turning on her heel, she launched the bottle as hard as she could against the wall, screaming. It shattered and spilled everywhere in the hallway. Next, she turned to the urn, gripping it with both hands, raised it above her head, ready to smash it on the floor in front of her, but-- but-- she couldn’t. She just...couldn’t. Instead, she sank to the floor, hugging the cool marble box to her chest, and fell back against the wall. Mistake, was all she could think as she stopped trying to hold back her tears, I’m a mistake.