#because Holy Shit Dude wear something different than black and white for once

[nonuggetshere]

I keep imagining Lummis and Petunia in different outfits but never Flower, they always stay in their black pants and white shirt getup unless for special occasions, and I think the funniest possible explanation to this is if they have like 20 pairs of identical pants and shirts

Which makes sense if they're the Pure Vessel. Just throw something comfortable and practical but still okay-looking by noble standards on them when not on duty and sew a shitton of these bad boys for them, it's not like they have an opinion or preference or even need to be fashionable. Basic stuff will do.

The side effect of this is the fact post-reveal they still wear the same goddamn thing 7 days a week

And also they're autistic/neurodivegent in general. Having a duplicate or two (or 20) of their favourite comfy outfit is handy, and finding new clothes that don't have Bad Texture or annoying tags is a chore and a half.

[redorich]

For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?

Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!

Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.

Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?

He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?

Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?

“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.

Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.

Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!

The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.

“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”

“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.

She laughs. “Thanks.”

Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--

He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.

“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”

“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”

The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”

Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.

“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.

“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”

“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."

"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.

"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."

Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”

“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”

The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.

As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.

Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.

“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”

The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.

“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.

The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.

“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.

Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”

They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.

He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”

“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.

“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?

“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”

Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”

“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.

“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.

“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”

“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.

Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”

“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.

“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.

“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.

Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.

“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”

He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.

The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.

“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”

Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.

“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”

“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”

“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.

The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”

“Etho...” Tango groans.

“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”

The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go 

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.” 

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear. 

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”  

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid. 

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room. 

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?” 

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.” 

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.” 

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!” 

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him. 

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.” 

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?” 

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions. 

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.” 

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?” 

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.” 

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression. 

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.” 

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.” 

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours. 

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you. 

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.” 

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?” 

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.” 

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.” 

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure. 

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.” 

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?” 

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.” 

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.” 

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.” 

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?” 

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.” 

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.” 

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.” 

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.” 

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?” 

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.” 

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes. 

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.” 

[gatefleet]

New Neighbour 4

Marvel Daredevil: Matt 'Daredevil' Murdock Word Count: 618 (T)W: Nightmares, Fire, Recognition issues Request: No A/N: Sutoritaimu Archive. I loved writing this, but if there's no love for it then this is the end.

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

You hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep until you had awoken with a start.  It took you a couple of minutes to realise that the noise which had awoken you was the sound of footsteps, but they were footsteps you didn’t recognise.  You got up, slowly, and followed the sound to the corridor just outside your apartment door.  You stopped once you had stepped into the corridor and listened for any indication of the noise again, and then you saw a strange flickering light under the door which led to Matt’s apartment. Cautiously, you walked up to the door, warily tapping your hand against the handle for any sign of heat, when you were satisfied that the handle was cool to touch you turned it and the door easily swung open.  You would have to remember to scold Matt later for leaving his apartment door unlocked.  You walked into Matt’s apartment to tried and locate the source of the flickering light, you expected Matt to have left a light on or a space heater or something.  What you did not expect was to find the creepy dude who offered you a chance to not bleed out on Matt’s floor.  He was different than you remembered, more relaxed, less rushed.  He appeared to be an older gentleman, white hair - which reminded you of the creepy professor from the ‘Back to the Future’ movies - he was wearing a crimson red 3-piece suit (which reminded you a lot of blood) with a black shirt.  His face was pale, but his eyes, his eyes were pitch black, but his irises, they were bright red and hellish looking.  When he opened his mouth to speak to you, your skin crawled immediately, “Ahh, Miss Y/L/N, welcome back.”  He gave you a crooked smile that made you feel the blood drain from your face, his sharp teeth intimidating and looking both completely natural and out of place at the same time.  “Now Miss Y/L/N, about our arrangement…”

You woke with a start, your head hurt, you felt more aware of your surroundings.  You could see in… wait, your vision, it was… it had changed.  You could see… well, you could see… everything.  The tiny dust particles floating through the air, the minute cracks in the wall of your apartment.  You could smell, you could smell Matt, his cologne, his essence.  Holy shit!  You could see him!  See him through the wall.  You could see him, or his outline at least, clear enough to be able to see his chest rising and falling with every breath he took.  You went to put your head into your hands when you noticed them, your hands.  They didn’t look like your hands.  They didn’t look human.  You jumped up, panicking, then you caught your reflection in the mirror which was hanging on your wall… you screamed.  Your head wasn’t your head!  It looked like a flaming skull!  Your screams clearly aroused Matt from his sleep because you saw him in the mirrors reflection, tilting his head, using his other senses to detect if there was anyone else in the apartment with you both.  Then you saw his head twitch to one side, face scrunching up trying to identify the source of the crackling fire sound which must have been resonating around the apartment.  Once he identified the direction, he slowly walked toward it, toward you with one hand outstretched.  Once he felt the ‘boney’ version of you standing before him, something inside you both shifted into attack and defend mode at the same time.  Matt automatically responded to the unknown threat in front of him and your body reacted on its own and began to defend itself.

GIF Credit: @xxcrystalchateauxxx

[yuta-nakamots]

Playing Games - n.yt

Pairing - Frat Boy!Yuta x Reader

Genre - College!AU, Fluff, Smut, Slight Angst

Warnings - Safe sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

Summary - Yuta is a notorious frat boy known for sleeping around with tons of girls yet never getting into a relationship. You never would have thought you’d become entangled with him until fate ends up placing both of you in the same beginner guitar class during your spring semester.

Word Count - 11.2k

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight​ for helping me work out some of the plot!

Tag List - @jisungismymom @jikooksgirl19 @jungcity @boiolay @yasmini24

Written for the Bingo Collab hosted by @legendnct​. Check out the masterlist here.

Prompts;

"Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love. ‘Cause what if it’s not reciprocated?” –  Pink Sweat$ - Honesty

“So won’t you say my name, say my name?”– summer walker - playing games

“Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms” –  Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK

“Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?”– H.E.R - focus

“Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”–  McKay & Jeff Bernat - Angel 2 Me

It’s the first day of your second semester of college and you’re starting to rethink your decision of signing up for Guitar 101 as you step into the classroom. You don’t remember what pushed you to add this course to your schedule other than the fact that it would knock off two off your graduation requirements, though surely there were other courses that could’ve done that as well.

You were quite the beginner to guitar, having only touched one maybe only a few times in your life and you were sure that you absolutely would not have ever thought about taking Guitar 101 if it wasn’t for your friend Mark, who had suggested it to you.

Mark is a sweet guy and you just so happened to have the pleasure of meeting last semester in your math class. He had walked in late on the first day and took the seat next to you as he muttered something about the campus being too big and not having building names displayed clearly.

Your friendship truly started the day he came in without any of his belongings, not even his backpack. “I, uh, woke up late and ran to class. Literally.” You could tell from the way sections of his hair were standing up and how his white t-shirt was inside out, but you didn’t tell him that.

“If it’s okay with you, can you send me your notes later?” He asked, his eyes resembling that of boba. Mark let out an audible sigh of relief when you agreed and handed him your phone to type in his number. As soon as he gave it back to you, you sent him a message to make sure he typed it correctly and it was at that moment that Mark realized, after a whole month of sitting next to you and occasionally working together, he had yet to remember your name.

‘Hey, this is y/n. Still can’t believe you forgot your backpack’

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces and you always did your work together at any given opportunity, finding that two heads are definitely better than one when it came to calculus.  Sometimes working on projects together often led to you and Mark spending more time together and eventually leading both of your guys’ friends to speculate that you were dating, to which you insisted was not true.

Your friends seemed to understand and leave it be, though Mark’s friends were a whole different story. He was part of one of the newest frats on campus which had come to fame due to their good-looking members, not a single one of them falling even a hair short of having god-tier visuals. You recognized a few of them, having been to their frat house a couple of times to work on projects with Mark though most of them were older than you so it came as a surprise to you when you saw one of them in your beginner guitar class.

You didn’t know his name but he was easy to remember with his long black hair and his ever-changing fashion sense. Today, he resembled something out of a motorcycle magazine with his maroon leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and the bandana tied around his head.

You watched as he took a seat in the front of the room though you had enough sense to turn your attention back to the professor who had started class and was displaying a list of names with corresponding locker numbers that housed the guitar you’d be using.

Standing up with the rest of the class, you went to go find your own locker and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was on the bottom row because that meant less effort to take it in and out rather than if you had one on the top row.

Right as you popped your lock open, a shadow was cast over you and you turned around to see Mark’s friend who was even more stunning up close. He flashed you a quick smile along with an apology as he moved to the side to give you more room and allow you to grab your guitar out from the locker.

You were just slightly irritated at the guy. People with good looks knew how to use them to their advantage and this man obviously knew what he was doing. Had he been sane, he could’ve just waited for you to get your stuff out before getting his own, but instead, he chose to tower over you as you were crouching down on the floor.

Your eyes followed his figure as he made his way back to his seat in the front of the room, sitting down in front of the professor and you rolled your eyes knowing that he’s going to have an ego as tall as a skyscraper.

Aside from your encounter with the nameless e-boy, your first class went pretty okay though you were already having a little trouble remembering which chords were which so you sent a text to Mark asking for tips. He responds a few minutes later with fingering charts and even offers to tutor you, which you gladly accept.

You and Mark had appointed Wednesday afternoons and Sunday mornings as your lesson times and the first time you visit him is on the former. It was February so the weather was still quite cold though it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret not wearing a thicker jacket.

Before you could even text Mark that you’re outside the frat house, the door opens and he pulls you in, visibly shivering due to only being in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. “Not so Canadian are you, huh?” You joke at him, seeing the once thick-skinned boy now struggling to warm himself up as he practically ran up the stairs to his room.

You followed him up, greeting his roommate, Taeil, when you passed him in the hallway. Taeil was the oldest member of the frat and was set to graduate at the end of the semester. He had you absolutely fooled when you first met him. His personality reminded you of a golden meadow or a sunny beach but he was a total animal when it came to parties though Mark had told you that you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Having seen Taeil out in the hallway, you thought you and Mark would be the only ones in the room so you weren’t expecting to see the same guy from guitar class lying around on Mark’s bed. “Yuta, this is y/n, y/n meet Yuta.”

Yuta gave you that same smile you saw on the first day of class as he told Mark, “oh, I know her, she’s in my guitar class.”

“Dude, that’s so cool. You guys can work together on projects and the playing tests then. Man, that course would’ve been way more fun if I could play with someone I knew.” You shot Mark an awkward smile as if telling him to move on because you highly doubted that you’d ever want to work with Yuta, especially if his ego was as big as you thought it was. He’d call you out left and right for even the tiniest mistakes and you didn’t want to put yourself through that.

Mark cleared his throat while grabbing his guitar and handing it to you, and Taeil’s guitar to Yuta. “Yeah so, uh, anyway, I thought it would be better to teach you guys at the same time since you both are at the same level if that’s okay with you.” Mark’s question was obviously aimed towards you however Yuta answered first without any hesitation.

“Works for me.” Yuta looked over to you, strands of his white locks falling in front of his eyes though it didn’t dampen the intensity of his gaze in the slightest.

You didn’t exactly like the idea of playing with an audience, even if it was just Yuta. But if he was a beginner like you, then theoretically the playing field should be even. It was only because of this did you nod your head, telling Mark, “sure.”

Your first lesson with Mark consisted of his retaught both you and Yuta the fundamentals and basic chords you had already learned, making sure that your hands and fingers were placed the right way. Yuta, who was having a harder time than you, let out an exasperated sigh as he leaned back against the wall next to Mark’s bed while he ripped open a bag of gummy bears. “Whoever gets the fingerings right first gets a gummy bear.”

“Okay, bet.” Not really one for competition, you wanted to refuse his proposal, but this guy was really getting on your nerves. It was as if he had no interest yet all the passion in the world. And that’s aside from the fact that you simply wanted to continue showing him up and proving that you weren’t such a pushover and he can’t simply bend you to his will.

The three of you became so wrapped up in the competition that you didn’t even notice that you were supposed to leave to get to your last class of the day, which was now starting in five minutes. When you glanced over at the clock on Mark’s desk, you practically jumped out of your seat, “holy shit, I’m gonna be late to class.”

“I can drive you if you want.” Yuta offered.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t exactly lying but you weren’t entirely telling the truth as you declined him. It was an eight-minute walk away but you could probably make it in six if you did your Black Friday walk and surely your professor wouldn’t mind if you were just a minute late.

Mark helped you gather your belongings and held his door open for you. “Alright, see you y/n. I’ll set an alarm next time so we don’t forget.” He said with a slight laugh in his voice.

As you stepped out of the frat house, you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering back to Yuta. He barely even knew you yet he had offered to drive you to class, even though your campus wasn’t particularly large. There was something about that man that made you want to run for your life but also just stop and stare at him all day.

The second time you had a lesson with Mark is on a Sunday morning and you’re pleasantly surprised to see that Yuta is nowhere to be found as you set foot into Mark’s room. After placing your bag down next to Mark’s desk, you pick up Taeil’s guitar and join him on his bed while he quietly plays a song to himself.

“Yuta’s still knocked out from the party we had yesterday so I doubt he’ll be joining us.” Mark informed you, and his statement rang true as Yuta did not come in during all of the three hours you spent next to Mark, much to your relief. Instead, Taeil had come in, looking terribly hungover.

“Hey, what’s up man.” Is all Taeil got to say before rolling into his bed, putting in a single Airpod before falling asleep, much to both you and Mark’s amusement.

Mark had tried to teach you basic chord sequences and strumming patterns but your brain just wasn’t having it. He kept giggling at seeing you frustrated and you had to repeatedly tell him to shut up in fear of waking Taeil so eventually both of you decided to call it a day as you put the guitars back on their stands.

You got back onto the bed next to Mark as both of you played on your phones for a bit before he turned his off and turned to talk to you. “Hey, y/n, so the guys are throwing this party next week Saturday and I was wondering if you’d want to come.”

“Next Saturday...Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you check your calendar on your phone.

“Yeah. You don’t have to though if you already have other plans.” Mark blurted out.

You laughed at the thought of actually going on a date on Valentine’s Day. “Didn’t have any plans besides ordering take-out and watching Netflix.”

Mark laughed along with you. “So is that a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna sleepover too since you’re gonna be here on Sunday morning anyway?” You raised an eyebrow at Mark, wondering if he was actually serious.

“Sounds convenient but then where are you gonna sleep?” You countered.

“Uh, in Taeil’s bed.” Mark said, the gears in his head almost visibly turning.

“And where is he going to sleep?” You ask, not wanting to cause the kind senior any extra stress from having to deal with Mark as a roommate on top of his impending graduation.

Mark reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know, probably somewhere on the floor downstairs.” Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Okay wait, before you yell at me, Taeil always gets too hammered to make it back up to the room until like, Sunday afternoon as you clearly just saw.” He explained, gesturing to his sleeping body on the other side of the room.

“Okay, then. But if he gets mad, it’s your fault, your idea, not mine.”

By the time Valentine’s Day came around, you were more than ready for it to end, having been annoyed by all the lovey-dovey advertisement and the couples posting on Instagram and holding hands and kissing wherever you went. You had always heard that love finds its way to those who are least expecting it, which is why you gave up the thought of ever pining over a guy who was likely to reject you anyway. Though, sure enough, love really did find a way of messing with your life in more than one way.

When you arrived at the party, you had first gone up to Mark’s room to drop off your bag that held your change of clothes and personal hygiene supplies. You don’t know what you were expecting to see when you entered his room, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see Mark’s bare ass while he was fucking into a girl in his bed, the same bed you were supposed to sleep in at the end of the night. “Oh, shit, fuck, sorry y/n, can you just uh, come back in a bit-”

You were pretty sure you were just as embarrassed as Mark, shouting “alright, have fun dude” as you closed the door. You turned around to search for somewhere else to go, pondering on the idea of just going back to your dorm after the party and walked right into Taeil.

“Should I not go in there?” He asked, having seen the way you backed out of the room and closed the door.

“Not unless you wanna see Mark’s butt.”

“Eh, I see it from time to time, can’t be any worse than usual.”

“Taeil, no” you exclaim, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away before he could open the door.

“Oh, you mean to see his butt while he’s doing that kind of thing, I get it now.” He said with a playful glint in his eyes. “Were you planning on sleeping over?” He asked, having noticed the duffel bag hanging from your shoulder.

You let out a sigh before answering. “Yeah, I was gonna sleep in Mark’s bed and he was gonna sleep in yours since he said you apparently get too fucked up to make it back to the room.” At which Taeil laughs as he nodded his head, acknowledging the statement.

“He’s certainly not wrong,” Taeil confirmed, “did you want to put that down somewhere? I can let you keep it in our lounge room during the party. It’s a members-only room so you can just ask one of the guys to open it for you later in case I’m already out.”

You can’t help but giggle at Taeil’s joke as you accept his offer, following him down the hallway to a door where he punches in some numbers onto a keypad before opening it. Your jaw dropped when you looked inside, being met with a huge U-shaped couch facing the back wall where a large TV was mounted. “What do you guys even do in here?”

“Usually just gaming, sometimes watching big sports matches. Just normal guys stuff. We agreed to no sex, drugs, or alcohol in here so it’s like a safe room of sorts I guess.” Taeil explained to you.

“Huh, didn’t think you guys would have something like this.” You told him as you placed your duffle bag against the wall near the door.

“Frat life isn’t just all about getting high and drunk you know, y/n,” he said, playfully scoffing at you, “but speaking of, would you like to get a drink downstairs?” You nod your head before walking alongside Taeil as he places an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down to the party.

As you pass by Mark’s room along the way to the stairs, both you and Taeil share a laugh as you could hear the faint noises of sex through the door, though you really just wanted to erase the image of Mark’s ass from your head. Taeil seems to understand this much as he takes you to the kitchen and tells Doyoung, the frat’s resident entrepreneur with a side hobby for mixology, to get you something strong.

You’ve met Doyoung a couple of times, though you only exchanged short greetings since you were always doing something with Mark. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He inquired.

“Who?”

“Mark.”

“Oh, we’re not dating. He’s in his room though.”

“Sure seems like you’re dating. Why isn’t he here with you?”

Taeil responds, saving you from having to explain to Doyoung. “He’s getting lucky with some other girl.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide as he responds, “that’s a first for him.”

You were about to ask what he meant by that but you’re interrupted by loud yells coming from the living room, causing you to turn around and see what was going on. You spot Yuta standing up on the makeshift DJ booth in the corner of the room with Johnny, who you recognized as your TA in your English class, as he grabbed the microphone and shouted “let’s get fucking drunk” before Johnny could manage to yank it out of his grasp and turn it off.

“What’s with that guy?” You mumble to yourself, not really expecting Doyoung to overhear you.

“Oh, Yuta? He’s just like that sometimes.” Doyoung states, shrugging his shoulders as he wiped the kitchen counter with a towel. “He’s that one friend who does really questionable things but you can’t get rid of them because deep down they’re actually pretty nice.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You think he’s nice?”

“He is once you get to know him.”

You look at Taeil for reaffirmation only to find that said man is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is his yellow phone left lying on the counter next to Doyoung’s own drink. “I’ve gotten to know him and I wouldn’t say he’s nice, per se.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you, “you just haven’t cracked him open yet.”

“Why do you talk as if he’s an egg or something?” You joke laughing to yourself and watching as Doyoung fights back a smile.

“He is, in a sense. He’s got a tougher exterior along with his own inner issues that come tumbling out once he trusts you.”

“Like?”

Doyoung hums in thought before speaking. “I’m not gonna say too much because it’s his life and his own story to tell, but let me just ask you this one question. Don’t you ever wonder why he constantly sleeps around with girls yet never gets into a relationship with any of them?”

You ponder on the question before asking one back. “So are the rumors true?” Yuta’s reputation did precede him and you had, in fact, heard from other girls who had their own stories and adventures with Yuta but you didn’t necessarily believe them completely, not wanting to assume anything about Yuta.

“Some, not all...but yes, most of the ones I have heard were true, but maybe that’s just because people know I live with him so there’s no sense in trying to lie around me.” Doyoung responds to which you nod your head, acknowledging the accuracy behind his statement.

Three shots later of whatever Doyoung was making you, you were already starting to feel hot and lightheaded so you went back upstairs, as per Doyoung’s advice, and made your way to Mark’s room hoping he’d be done by now. You cracked his door open and peeked around it, grumbling to yourself as you saw your best friend and the same girl from earlier wrapped up in his blanket. You weren’t too sure where you were going to sleep tonight and you weren’t too keen on walking back to your dorm this late at night, especially when you were already starting to feel tipsy.

Closing the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two people inside, you step away from the room, only to run into someone behind you. You spun around, ready to apologize until you realized who it was. Yuta, a quite drunk Yuta too.

“Taeil told me Mark got lucky-” he stopped to hiccup, “but I didn’t fully believe it so I came to-” he hiccuped again, “see for myself, but I think your action speak-” he reached up to briefly rub his eyes, “louder than words” he finished, letting out a yawn at the end. “Need somewhere to stay?”

“How did you know I was sleeping over?” You ask, wary of the man and his intentions.

He waves his hands as if dismissing your preconceived notions. “Taeil told me that too. Makes sense anyway since you’re here on Sunday’s as well.”

You sighed, not wanting to let yourself give in to Yuta yet again and give him another thing to hold over you, but it wasn’t as if you had many other options. “Taeil let me leave my bag in the lounge, can you unlock the door for me? I think I’ll just ask Doyoung to drive me back to my dorm or something.”

Yuta hummed as he grabbed your wrist and led you down the hallway to the lounge. He unlocked the door for you and held it open, but once both of you were inside, he closed the door behind him and turned on the mood lighting and watched as the room began to glow purple.

You picked up your bag as Yuta threw himself over the backrest of the sofa and tumbled onto the cushions. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

“Well, yeah?” You stuttered, taken aback by his sudden comment.

“Damn, I wanted to be the first.”

“Okay?” You said, questioning his antics as Doyoung’s words floated through your head about Yuta and his trysts with girls, not wanting to become another victim.

As if Yuta could hear you thinking, he sat up and peered over the couch just enough to make eye contact with you, his eyes mischievously shining in the low lighting. “Were you gonna sleep with Mark?” He asked, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“What? No,” you exclaim, “he’s my best friend, I would never do that.”

“Not like that you sicko,” Yuta said as he chuckled at your flustered state.

“Oh,” realization dawning upon you, “uh, yeah, I was planning to just sleep in his bed and he was gonna take Taeil’s but now I’m pretty sure that’s not happening tonight.”

“You can stay in my room if you want.” Now it was your turn to raise a suggestive eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My roommate is away in China so his side is open. You can sleep in my bed if you’re not comfortable being in a stranger’s bed.” You were surprised he made it through such a long statement without any hiccups.

“Uh, thanks, I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.” You say, finally unrooting yourself from the floor and making your way towards the door.

Yuta begins haphazardly pulling himself over the back of the couch seeing as how you were ready to leave the room. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.” He would’ve face planted straight into the floor if it weren’t for you standing right in his path of destruction, barely catching him before he nearly sent both of you to the ground. “Sorry” he giggled as he regained his balance and pushed open the door.

You couldn’t mistake the way his body felt against yours, how warm and comforting it was. He smelled nice too, which was odd for someone who partied like an animal and lived with god knows how many other guys. You shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed your bag, following Yuta out of the lounge.

He led you to the bathroom and instructed you on how to use the shower and lock the door before telling you how to get to his room once you were done. The bathroom was surprisingly neat but you were sure it was thanks to Doyoung and Taeyong, the only two people you thought had their heads on straight in this house. Even if you had only briefly met both of them, it was enough to let you know that those men were the reason why the house somehow looked presentable within just a few hours after a raging party.

You showered quickly, the effect of Doyoung’s drinks really hitting you now, making you want to just pass out. Once you were done showering you threw on one of Mark’s shirts that you had previously stolen, intending on giving it back to him tonight, but you weren’t comfortable wearing your normal beat up sleepwear in front of Yuta, so you opted to wear Mark’s shirt instead.

Not quite wanting to have another incident like the one you had earlier with Mark, you knocked on Yuta’s door just to be safe. You heard him laugh from the inside as he called out “it’s unlocked, just come in.” As you let yourself in, he got off his bed telling you “I’m going to shower now. Just make yourself comfortable in whichever bed you want. I’ll sleep in whatever one you don’t choose.”

After he left the room, you looked between the two beds. One was neatly made and had pictures strung up on the wall next to it, the blankets and sheets folded nicely and placed alongside a few pillows near the foot of the bed. The other, which Yuta had just rolled out of, had wrinkled sheets with the blanket half falling off the bed, not a single pillow within a whole six-foot radius of his bed.

You didn’t really want to mess up the organization of whoever his roommate was, so instead, you just took one of the pillows and plopped it onto Yuta’s bed as you grabbed the blanket from the floor and pulled it over your head, allowing his scent to flood your nose. Just as you were about to drift into sleep, you heard the door open and close followed by rapid footsteps coming your way.

Before you even had time to react, Yuta was flinging himself on top of you and laughing as you gasped for air under his weight. “Somebody looks comfortable.” He teased as you continued squirming, trying to push him off you.

You wouldn’t take him to be a clingy drunk after seeing how rowdy he was during the party, but you suppose this is the side of him that managed to charm so many other girls into thinking they’d be that one lucky girl to finally win over Nakamoto Yuta’s heart. “Get off of me.” You uttered forcefully as you tried to make him move over and relieve the pressure on your chest and stomach.

“You silly, this is my bed” he cooed, letting another round of giggles leave his lips before rolling off you towards the wall, leaving you on the outside of the bed. He threw the blanket over himself, humming as he felt the warmth of it, that you had made, on his freshly showered skin.

Yuta kept his distance as he laid on his back with his eyes closed, his hands reaching up to ruffle his damp hair, speaking of which, “you know people say you can get sick if you go to sleep with damp hair?” You asked him quizzically.

“Yeah, but I’ve never gotten sick from it so I don’t really care.” He said dismissively.

A few moments passed before either one of you spoke again. “Didn’t you say that you were going to sleep in the other bed?” You questioned, remembering your conversation from not too long ago.

“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to unfold everything and put it back in the morning so here I am.” Yuta beamed, smiling over at you. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as he continued playing with his hair, making it stick up in different directions. “I can sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with me being here.”

You wanted to say ‘yes, please move’ but you didn’t have enough strength in you to tell him to get out, not when you enjoyed his presence next to you so instead you simply told him “it’s fine” before tugging over more of his blanket and turning to face away from him.

He let out a whine as now half of his body was uncovered and exposed to the cold winter air and he yanked his blanket back, inadvertently pulling you with it, causing you to face him with your forehead nearly resting against his chest. “Why are you hogging my blanket?” Yuta whined.

“I’m not hogging it, you just keep trying to take more than your fair share of it.” You fired back at him.

“This is my room and my blanket.”

“You’re the one who offered to let me stay here, and might I add, you said you were going to sleep in the bed that I didn’t choose.”

“I can always retract my offer, you know.” You shook your head, the idea of asking Doyoung to drive you back to your dorm at 3am wasn’t exactly appealing to you. “Okay then come closer so we can actually share the blanket instead of leaving one of us to freeze.”

You let out a huff and scooted closer to Yuta. “Are you happy now?” Yuta let out a hum as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling underneath the strands of bleached white hair that had fallen in front of his face.

Closing your eyes again, you tried to fall asleep, hoping that you wouldn’t have any further interruptions from Yuta, but you couldn’t seem to fully relax with the main light of the room still on. “Yuta can you turn off the light?” He looked over you, clearly unhappy. “Please?”

“You’re closer.”

“God, why are you so difficult.” You remarked as you slid out from under the blanket, walking over to flip the light switch.

“I’m not difficult, you’re difficult.” He fired at you as the room became dark, illuminated only from the light of the moon. “You’re always so uptight and on edge about getting to class on time and being prepared.”

“Because that’s what a good student does, and unlike you, I actually want to graduate from college in four years.” You spit back as you rolled back into the bed next to him.

“Hey, not everyone graduates within four years, some of us just have a different path in life. And what makes you think that I’m not trying to graduate soon?”

“Your attitude and your seemingly nonexistent care to even make it to class on time.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t do my work though.”

“But you totally miss the instructions that the professors give at the beginning of class.”

“It’s not hard to figure things out when you’ve got a brain as big as mine.”

“You’re so annoying, just let me sleep.” You grumbled as you moved closer to him, wanting more of the blanket.

Silence falls upon both of you again but you let out a huff when Yuta starts talking again. He sure was annoying as hell when he was drunk. “Do you have feelings for Mark, or like, any other guys...like at all?”

You stared up at him, praying he’d feel the daggers coming from your eyes, “no.”

“Good, I was hoping you didn’t so I could do this.”

“Do wha-”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before Yuta tilted your chin up and brought his lips to yours, eagerly molding his to fit the shape of yours.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you started to kiss him back, in fact, you probably weren’t thinking at all. Yuta took it as a green light and let the hand that was against your chin find its way to the back of your neck to pull you in closer. You didn’t realize your body had shifted until you were now completely pressed up against him. It soon became all too hot and suffocating, forcing you to pull away and break the kiss.

Your eyes met his and held his gaze as you came to your senses. “Yuta, I’m not here to have sex with you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He replied almost nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes at him, “no, I mean, like ever.”

“Okay. Who says I can’t just kiss a pretty girl because I want to?” He asked, the attitude in his voice was almost enough to make you want to slap him.

“I do?” You quipped. “I didn’t tell you that you could kiss me either-”

“Says the person who was definitely not kissing me back.” Yuta teased as he cocked an eyebrow at you, daring you to continue.

You flung the blanket off of you, not wanting to put up with any more of his antics. “Don’t use your fuckboy charms on me, I’m not here to become another one of your girls.”

“Y/n, wait, that’s not what I meant to do,” he whined, grabbing your wrist before you could fully get out of the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off that way and for your information, I am not attached any of the ‘girls’ you are alluding to.”

“You attached yourself to them the moment you put your dick inside them and gave them something to talk about.”

“That's not what I intended to do.”

“Then what is it that you intend to do, Yuta?”

He paused with his mouth slightly open and you took this moment to separate your wrist from his grasp before he spoke again. “I don’t try to ‘charm’ them or whatever you call it. I’m not even looking for a relationship, trust me.”

“And why should I trust you when you have girls practically throwing themselves at you?”

Yuta let out a groan as he flopped onto his back. “Look, I never wanted to be this blunt with you but I’m not looking for a relationship because the last one I was in ended with me getting cheated on.” He paused as if letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to fall in love again because I don’t want to risk going through that same pain another time. I’m scared to fall in love because what if it’s not reciprocated? Is that enough to make you believe me?”

You stare at him in shock, barely managing to stutter out “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, let’s just go to sleep, I said too much already.” He interrupted, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back under the blanket. Once you were close enough for his liking, Yuta let go of you, retracting his arm back to his half of the bed though he stopped when he felt your hand on his forearm. He looked up at you with wide eyes as you pulled his arm back over you and allowed your forehead to rest against his chest.

Yuta stayed like that until you fell asleep, finding it hard to do the same. It took him awhile to find himself in the familiar lull due to his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his eyes traced over your features. If only you could read his mind, you’d know of the dilemma he realized he had wrapped himself into that he was too scared to admit on his own.

You woke up with a pounding headache, to say the least. Reaching up to massage your forehead, you tried to roll onto your back only to find that you weren’t able to. You jerked around, finding Yuta’s sleeping body as you remembered the events and conversations that took place just hours prior. You stilled as you took a moment to admire the way the golden rays of sun seeped in through the window, falling across his face and causing him to have an ethereal glow. He’d be quite attractive if it wasn’t for his attitude.

However, his face alone wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that he was practically spooning you and you weren’t confident that you could get out without waking him though what really irked you was the fact that part of you didn’t want to leave from his warm embrace.

You stayed in his arms for a few minutes longer until your headache became unbearable and your throat was begging for something to drink. You tried your best to gently extract yourself from Yuta but much to your distaste, he woke up. He caused you even more displeasure when he pulled you back towards himself and whined “where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty and I have a headache.” You stated plainly, your voice void of energy.

Yuta whined once more before trying to reason with you. “But it’s cold, it’s cuddle weather.”

“I didn’t say that I wanted to cuddle with you.” You pointed out, at which Yuta finally forced his eyes open as he yawned and stretched before sighing.

“I’ll get you water and some ibuprofen if you stay for a little longer.”

“Fine, but that’s only because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You were trying to convince him of this as much as you were trying to convince yourself of the statement while he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve seen from a full-time college student as he climbed over you and let himself out of the room.

You took this time as an opportunity to use the bathroom and peek into Mark’s room as you made your way back. You were surprised to see there was no one in the room and nearly jumped when an arm wrapped around your waist from the back. “Are we spying on Mark?” Yuta whispered into your ear.

Scoffing, you answer “he’s not even in there, you idiot.”

“Huh, I wonder where he went,” Yuta contemplated, “might as well grab the guitars while we’re here.” He handed you the glass of water and pills he was carrying as he walked into Mark’s room and picked up the two guitars from their stands.

“What are we supposed to do without Mark?”

“Practice? What else are we supposed to do?” The man in front of you asked rhetorically.

You shook your head at him, not liking the sound of his idea. “We won’t know if we’re doing anything right, we’re literally both beginners.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Yuta countered.

“Ugh, whatever, you’re so irritating.” And with that, you down the pills and turn to walk back to his room.

Playing guitar with Yuta wasn’t actually all that terrible. He knew more than he let on during your shared sessions with Mark and he offered you some tips every so often as he led both of you through the chord progression sheet. The whole scene of it was quite surreal, the way you and Yuta were both simply clothed in plain t-shirts, hair still roused from sleep, the way the sun gently lit the room and warmed it up.

You were genuinely enjoying yourself and didn’t even notice when Mark came into the room. “You guys started without me?” He whined cutely.

Yuta looked at you and you gestured at him to respond. “Y/n went to go spy on you in your room but you weren’t there so we decided to steal the guitars and have fun on our own.” You shot Yuta a look, hoping he understood the ‘I will strangle you’ glare you were giving him.

“Wow y/n, why were you spying on me man?” Mark asked dejectedly.

“I was just checking to see if your girl was still with you because I didn’t want to barge in on anything, again.” You tease.

Mark groans and covers his face out of embarrassment. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

“Wait, wait, you saw Mark naked?” Yuta questioned with his eyes wide. “He has a big butt doesn’t he?” He added, smirking, at which both you and Mark yell at him to shut up. “Just saying facts.” He claims, raising his hands up in defense.

“Anyways,” Mark said a little too aggressively, “are you guys doing okay on your own? Or did you want me to join?”

Again, Yuta turned to you for a response, though this time you really hated yourself for what you answered with. “No, I think we’re fine, thanks though.”

“Better go wash your sheets bro, you were wild last night.” Yuta called out as Mark left the room.

“Dude,” Mark exclaimed, “don’t ever say that again, please bro.” And just like that, I was only you and Yuta again.

“Speaking of parties,” Yuta began, “we’re thinking of holding another one in March before spring break. Wanna come?”

“I can’t believe you guys are already planning another one not even a whole day after getting drunk out of your mind.” You joke, the disbelief obvious in your expression.

“Hey, you have to let loose every once in a while,” he states, “but my offer still stands.”

You hum, faking getting lost in thought, “ask me again in a month and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tilted your head to the side, the look on your face clearly ridiculing him, “for now.” He adds on.

You went back to looking over the chord progression sheet and tried again to go through the one you were on before Mark came in. You almost succeed this time until you place your fingers one fret away from where they were supposed to be. “Yikes” Yuta comments as he reaches out and shifts your hand over for you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

It seemed only reasonable that when the guys continued having parties every so often, that you were invited to every single one of them whether it be through Mark or Yuta, and the one time Johnny had hit you up not knowing your involvement with the frat already, or even when Taeil invited you though it was really because Mark needed help sorting out his relationship issues.

Everyone except you was surprised that Mark had found himself a girlfriend, especially one that wasn’t you. You were happy for him, even if it meant having to respond to his panicked texts at 2am asking what something meant in ‘girl language’ accompanied by numerous screenshots.

Mark often ended up leaving you and Yuta on your own on Sundays because that was the only day when both he and his girlfriend were free. You certainly didn’t mind spending more time with Yuta now that he stopped being such a cocky asshole all the time. Whatever absence Mark had left, Yuta was there to make up for it whether it be his lingering touches, shy kisses, and even the offering of his clothes to you when you accidentally ended up sleeping over again, though this time you voluntarily shared a bed with him.

Yuta was becoming a necessary presence in your life, though you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it when he moved to sit next to you during class. You didn’t mind when he asked to work with you for the upcoming playing test. You didn’t mind when he found you during parties swept you away from the dance floor to take you elsewhere.

You especially didn’t mind when taking you elsewhere resulted in your current situation, your hands tangled in Yuta’s now orange-colored hair, as you lay under him while he kissed you breathless.

“You look so fucking hot, you had all of them staring at you.” Yuta growls out between kisses.

You bite his bottom lip, causing him to groan slightly. “Mmm, you like that though. You like it when I look like this.”

“Not when other men get to look at you the way I do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re mine.”

The use of the word caused you to stop in your tracks, Yuta pulling back as your lips stopped moving against his. “What are we?” You ask him, your voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, this relationship?” You say, gesturing between the two of you, “What is our relationship to each other?”

“We’re friends.”

“But are we just friends? Because I don’t think friends kiss each other like this.”

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t.” Yuta interjected as he leaned in to reattach his lips to yours.

“No, Yuta, stop,” you declare, pulling away from him, “I told you I’m not someone you can just play around with. If you want to keep me as a friend, then that’s all we will be. No kissing, no flirting, none of that.”

“I’m not playing around with you-”

“Then why is it so hard for you to place a label on us?” You questioned him, unintentionally raising your voice ever so slightly.

He rolled off of you, throwing an arm up to cover his eyes as he let out a sigh of exasperation. “I...I don’t know.”

“We’re clearly more than just friends but if you’re not willing to commit to being something more, then I’ll leave it at that.”

“Y/n, I- fuck, I don’t know what I even want-”

“And that’s okay,” you interrupt, “I’ll just give you time to think then, but for now,” you pause as you stand up from his bed, “just friends.” And with that you let yourself out of his room and ventured back downstairs to the party without turning back, finding comfort in the common sight of Johnny manning the boards, Doyoung in the kitchen with the drinks, even down to Taeyong and Taeil drunkenly swaying with each other on the dance floor.

“Here, something sweet to get rid of that sour look on your face.” Doyoung joked as he slid a drink across the counter.

You let out a chuckle as you raised the glass to your lips. “That obvious huh?”

“It is when I know whose room you just came from and who you’ve been spending all your time with.” He was really too intelligent to be stuck with these idiots.

You could only sigh as you took a large swig of whatever it is Doyoung made for you, relishing in the burn it gave you as it went down your throat, wishing for the alcohol-induced pain to overtake the one in your mind caused by the one and only Nakamoto Yuta.

Needless to say, you and Yuta ended up changing songs for the playing test and performing alone. Yuta moved back to his previous seat in the front of the room, though you still felt the way his eyes practically pierced through you as you played your chosen song, which albeit, was on the easier side since you wanted to give yourself a break.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta wished so badly to be the person you were singing about. “Can you focus on me? Baby can you focus on me?” You sang, and he mentally beat himself to the ground.

Yuta still wanted to give you the world more than anything but he didn’t trust himself to do so, not when he’s already hurt you more than he should have. He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice you finished playing until he heard the applause coming from your classmates.

You actually did end up going to their spring party, but it was due to a request made by Johnny as he told you about Mark’s current post-breakup state near the end of your English class together. “He’s pretty much been in his room all the time. Not like the normal kind where he just prefers to chill in his room, but like, the kind where he doesn’t even come down to eat with us and Taeil has to bring food up to him.”

“Did Mark say anything about the breakup? Like why or how it happened?” You questioned, not wanting to have to ask Mark himself in case it was still too sensitive a subject to talk about.

Johnny hummed in thought, cocking his head to the side. “He didn’t say much to me, but he told Taeil that she wasn’t looking for anything serious but he thought that she was.” Johnny paused to take a sip from the Starbucks cup on his desk. “In my opinion, he should’ve waited to get to know her instead of just fucking her and deciding to date her y’know? But, I mean, that’s on him, so as they say, not my problem.” He shrugged his shoulder before taking another sip of his drink.

“Literally who says that?” You joke, enjoying poking fun at the older guy.

Johnny turned to you, a mock look of offense plastered onto his face. “Y/n! You don’t know? The famous Johnny Suh says it all the time.” You rolled your eyes at him as you packed up your belongings, promising to be at the party later that night, not exactly fancying the thought of running into a certain someone at the party as well.

Mark’s fiery whirlwind of a romance had left him to become a mess of all sorts and you spent your time with him at the party in his bed, watching tik toks and animal video compilations to get his mind off of things. You felt a sense of relief as you heard one of his faint snores, realizing that he was asleep, allowing you to slip out of his room and head downstairs to grab a drink from Doyoung.

Right as you were about to head back up, you saw the all too familiar head of orange hair glowing under the dim lighting as he looked down across the party from the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t seem to notice you as you made your way towards him until a small “hey” left your lips.

His eyes darted over to your face, offering a simple nod of his head to you to  acknowledge your presence. You stood next to him, leaning against the wall until you broke the silence “how have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Pretty good I guess.” You could tell he didn’t want to talk to you, but you didn’t want to leave him, just feeling so drawn to him. Finding comfort in his presence, you closed your eyes and let your head fall against the wall as you lost yourself in the music that Johnny had going.

“I’ll get going, this party isn’t as exciting as normal.” Yuta stated as he turned to go back upstairs. Starting up the stairs after him, wanting to check in on Mark again, but when Yuta heard you following him, he turned around and called out to you. ”Don’t follow me, you’ll end up in my arms.” You froze as he turned back around and continued his way up while you processed his words, allowing him to escape from you yet again.

You watched from an outsider's perspective and through the narratives of the other guys as over the next few days, Yuta replaced Mark as the resident vegetable. He fell into the same state Mark was previously in, said boy having slowly come back to his senses with your constant nurturing and care.

Party after party, Yuta was no longer down on the dance floor with one hand holding a red solo cup, another around the waist of a girl he had just met. You wanted so badly to speak to him, but whenever you spotted him off to the edges of the crowd, he’d disappear seconds later like he knew you were watching him. As much as it was nice to have Mark back and go back to your normal best friend activities, Yuta had lodged himself in your heart without you knowing it.

Countless parties more and it was already nearing the end of spring semester. Yuta had stopped showing up to class, appearing once or twice a week, at most. Even at parties, he no longer came out of his room, according to Taeil. You had been meaning to talk to Yuta for a while now, but with finals looming right around the corner and his ability to hole himself up in his room, it was nearly impossible to find the time and place for it.

You were sick of worrying about him and if he was eating and sleeping okay, often finding yourself wondering what he was currently doing while you were studying or eating your own meals. You hated how often he occupied your mind. You truly wanted to believe that you were different to him, that someday he’d come around ready to commit to something but you ridiculed yourself for thinking that you’d have enough power to change someone as stubborn as Yuta. Little did you know, you were more than capable of doing so.

You had just entered the last week before finals and your school was generous enough to allot students a two day period to study before finals started. Of course, the frats and sororities took it as a last-ditch opportunity to party before their seniors graduated. You attended the party thrown to celebrate the graduating Taeil, Johnny, and Taeyong, but you were there for a different reason.

Throwing a quick greeting to Doyoung in the kitchen as you entered, he offered you a drink, which you told him to save for later before storming up the stairs. You were tired of all the hours you spent thinking about Yuta. If he wasn’t going to do anything about this, then you were whether it ended your friendship with him or not. You were done thinking about all the what-ifs, you wanted a definitive answer and you wanted it now.

Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, having enough manners to think about knocking before entering, you raised your hand to knock. Though before you were able to, you heard the music coming from inside. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was his voice singing the words. You froze with your hand against the door as you continued to listen to him. “Oh, how I love you. I just feel so lost without you.”

You opened his door slowly, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t be able to hear you knock over the loud noise coming from the party and his own blue-toned song. Both of you stood there in shock as your eyes met. Yuta was sitting on his bed with Taeil’s guitar in his lap and a notebook laid open next to him while you stood in the middle of his doorway, hand still on the knob.

Oh, how you missed the sight of him, even when he was dressed as simply as he was right now with just a grey t-shirt and black shorts sporting the logo of his favorite soccer team. “Yuta, we need to talk” you blurted out, stopping yourself from ogling him any further.

“Alright.” He complied, closing the notebook as you sat at the foot of his bed.

You take in a deep breath before starting. “I’m pretty sure you know this already, but I like you,” pausing to regather yourself and push through the rest of the speech you practiced in your head, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about you recently and I just want to settle this whole thing once and for all.”

Yuta nodded while picking at his fingers which you could see were now raw from playing the guitar so much, making you wonder just how often he was on it. “I’ve been thinking about you too...a lot,” he said as he looked up at you, “and I think I have an answer for you.”

You plant your hand down next to you on his bed, resting your weight on it and letting your head loll to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him asking him to continue. “I like you too, and I know the way I’ve been acting doesn’t really show that but I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt again.” Yuta said, letting his head rest in his hands.

“Yuta, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“That’s what she told me too, but people can be deceiving.”

“Look, I’m not her,” you pointed out to him, “and I’m telling you right now that I would not even think about cheating on you.”

“Yeah, well, things can change.” Yuta let out exasperatedly.

“So you should change with them. You’re not going to grow unless you accept those changes.”

He went silent for a bit before looking up at you. “Teach me how to accept them, then.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask him, your eyes meeting his.

“Show me that you’re different. Prove to me that not all change is bad.”

You moved closer to him as he spoke, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him. “I will.”

Yuta’s eyes fluttered shut and you felt as he shakily exhaled before he reopened his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and this time it was your eyes that closed as Yuta connected his lips to yours. Within a few seconds, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you allowed and gave him a sense of dominance before letting your tongue dance with his while gently pushing him down onto the bed.

He whined as he broke the kiss and rolled both of you over, switching your positions, preferring to smother your body with his, making you giggle at his actions. “Thank you for asking this time.” You told him, referencing the first time he had kissed you.

“I was drunk, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight and I just wanted to kiss you so badly.” Yuta groaned, grinding his growing erection on your hip at the last part.

“Oh you wanna kiss me so bad huh?” You teased.

You could’ve sworn he let out a growl right then before responding “fuck yeah I do” and reconnecting your lips to his. After fighting your tongue yet again, he pulled away and slowly opened his now lust-filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes,” you let out breathlessly, “I want it.”

“Who do you want?” He questioned as he slipped his hands under your shirt, gently kneading your breasts while kissing along your jaw and down your neck.

“You.”

“Baby, say my name.”

“Yuta, I want you.”

“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.” He said as he pulled his shirt off, throwing it down to the floor as you sat up and did the same.

The second your shirt was off, Yuta’s hands were already undoing the clasp of your bra, tossing it to the side as well before pushing you back down and running his hands over your breasts. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand played with the other.

You let out a whine as he pushed his erection against your clit, making you feel your own arousal that had started leaking out onto your underwear. Yuta glanced up at you, smirking, as he heard the sound you made. “Someone’s getting needy.” He kissed his way down your abdomen, sitting back once he reached the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear.

He groaned as he took in all of your naked beauty, telling you “you’re so fucking hot” as he spread your legs and brought his face down to your folds and licking a long strip upwards. He repeated this motion a few times before you let out a frustrated moan at his teasing.

Yuta laughed at your desperation until your hand wove it’s way into his hair and pushed him closer to where you wanted him most. He seemed to get the message as he dove in, allowing you to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling around and pressing at your entrance.

You weren’t expecting it when you suddenly felt him pressing a finger into you, though you enjoyed the sensation of it and raised your hips to feel more, only to be met with Yuta’s free hand coming down on your stomach, holding you down. He waited for you to relax before inserting a second digit, then a third as he started to speed up and finger fuck you open.

He was reaching places inside of you that you had never reached before but you still wanted more. “Yuta,” you breathed out, “just fuck me already.”

“Well when you say it like that, there’s no way I can resist” he said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he sat up, his erection bobbing as he tugged off his ripped jeans, freeing it from its confines.

“Condom” you tell him.

“Oh, you’re one of those girls,” he snickered, earning him a smack on the arm from you, “I’m just kidding, jeez, I don’t want to have to be responsible for a child just yet.” He defended as he reached over and stuck his hand into one of the drawers of his nightstand.

“I’m not risking getting pregnant when I can barely pay my tuition.” You quipped back at him.

“Fair enough.” Yuta remarked as he ripped open the package and rolled the condom over his already leaking cock.

He crawled over you, his elbows coming to rest next to either side of your head. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure want this?” You countered to him, both of you knowing fully well what you meant since once he went through with this, there was no turning back. Yuta was promising himself to you just as you had done to him.

You watched as his eyes found yours, “I want this, I want you, I want us.” With that he pushed himself into you, both of you letting out sinful moans as he bottomed out.

He barely gave you time to adjust before he started slowly rocking his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer while your hands found their way into his brightly colored locks. Just as he began to accelerate his movements, thrusting harder and faster, his door swung open.

Mark walked in casually, “hey, Yuta have you seen Taeil’s- holy shit i’m so sorry” he exclaimed once he realized the situation.

Yuta didn’t even pause as he told Mark “it’s on the floor.”

If you weren’t struggling to hold back your lewd sounds in the presence of your best friend, you would’ve laughed at how Mark snatched up the guitar and bolted out of the room, muttering “guess we’re even now, y/n” as he shut the door.

You let out a whimper as Yuta hit your spot the second the door closed. “Fuck, right there.”

He pushed himself into you a few more times before suddenly rolling over, bringing you to straddle him. “Ride me” he commanded, one of his hands coming to rub your clit. You began bouncing on his lap and clenched around him, drawing a moan from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Good, I'm not going to either.” You informed him, already feeling the knot in your stomach begging to be released.

Your thighs were starting to become sore though you didn’t want to stop. Yuta noticed your change of pace, bringing both his hands up to your hips as he began thrusting up into you. You let out a cry as he managed to brush against your most sensitive areas, causing an orgasm to wash over you.

His movements slowly only for a bit as he let you take control, riding out your high before firmly grasping your hips again and bouncing you on himself, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around him.

Staying true to his word, Yuta came shortly after you, filling the condom with his cum. He continued to push himself up into you until it became too much and he pulled out with a hiss. Yuta gently you down on his bed before getting up to dispose of the condom in the trash bin next to his nightstand.

You welcomed him with open arms as he climbed back into bed, his own arms wrapping around your waist as he began pressing light kisses across your collarbone as he broke the silence. “So does this make us a thing?”

“Depends on what you mean by that.” You tell him, wanting him to clearly voice his thoughts.

“Are we official?” He clarified.

“Only if you want us to be.”

Yuta smiled up at you. “y/n, Yuta’s girl, I like the sound of that.” You leaned down to press a kiss to his lips before he spoke again. “That song was about you, by the way”

“I figured that much.” You stated as you pushed his hair out of his face.

He giggled as he told you “I wrote it after jacking off to the thought of you.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to tell me that.” He let out a full laugh this time as he rolled both of you onto your sides and brought his forehead to rest against yours.

“Gosh, as if you weren’t clingy enough before this.” You joke, playfully kissing his nose.

“I’m all yours now.” Yuta cooed, his arms pulling your still naked body impossibly closer to his.

A/N - i do not condone or promote the behavior or fraternities or sororities, especially during COVID-19, read a bit about it here. i am simply writing about my own fantasy in my own ideal world. with that being said, please remember to wear your masks and stay safe out there. this one shot will be my first work with smut in it so i’m open to pretty much any and all feedback. special thank you to @neocitybynight​ for helping me work out some of the plot!

[mayraki]

the fancy party

read their story here

masterlist

>>> the troublemakers have to deal with some changes on their lives. so many people will try to bring them down on the way, but... let’s be honest, if you try to bring the troublemakers down, get ready to play with fire.

“JJ, I don’t think it’s in.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, JJ.”

“Yes, Max.”

“Idiot, no it’s not!”

“Wouldn’t I know if it isn’t?”

“How? I think I would know better!”

“Princess, please, this is a part of me, I would know better.”

“Really JJ? A part of your bike is a part of you?” JJ, who was kneeled down next to his bike, stopped fixing it to looked up at Max who was standing next to him, looking down at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, this is my bike. I know it like the palm of my hand. So, it’s a part of me.” Max rolled her eyes so JJ stood up and let out a grin. “Wouldn’t you say your surfing board is like a part of you?”

Max immediately thought that JJ had a point, but she wasn’t going to let him know. “That’s different.”

“How is that different?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Max,” JJ lifted an eyebrow and got closer to his girlfriend. “Are you cheating on me with Frank?” He let out a tiny laugh and Max punched him in the arm because she knew he was making fun of her for naming her board ‘Frank’

“I cursed the day I told you about Frank. And, at least Frank can hold the best surfer in Outer Banks, yours can’t even do that.” She said and then let out a loud laugh, remembering how JJ fell off his board that same morning.

Max waited for JJ to get offended or at least give her a comeback, but instead, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. “Would you like to see how I hold the best surfer of Outer Banks, princess?”

“Maybe.” Max followed his game with a little smile on her face. “But first,” she grabbed the hand that was holding her waist and with it, slapped JJ with his own hand. “don’t call me princess.”

JJ let out a big smile and got closer to Max while staring at her lips. “There’s my girl.” As he was about to unite his lips with Max’s, a voice spoke behind them.

“Party is over.” They both quickly walked away from each other when they recognised the voice.

“Dad.” Max said once turned around to see her dad, Ben, standing inside their house with the door wide open.

“I need to talk to you.” Max recognised those words. The times he said that to her was when she was in trouble, so the actions of her entire week started going in her mind like a movie, trying to find something that might get her into trouble.

“About what?” She asked, hoping her dad would just say it and that it wasn’t something bad.

“About aliens.” Ben said, with no hint that I was a joke in his face.

“Huh?” JJ and Max asked at the same time.

“Say goodbye to JJ and come inside please.” Ben said, and without giving Max to complain he went inside the house.

“Are you in trouble?” JJ asked once Max turned to him.

“I don’t know.” She said, still trying to think if she did something bad.

“Did you do something?”

“Probably.” Max nodded.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know, dude!”

“Then good luck, I guess, it was nice meeting you.” JJ said letting out a smile, enjoying the fact that Max could get in trouble.

Max flipped him off and then gave him a fake smile. “Fuck you.”

Instead of responding to her in the same tone, he just let out a grin and nodded. “Say when.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” He said before giving her a kiss on the lips and getting on his bike, to drive away and leave the poor confused Max behind.

“Dad?” She asked once her feet crossed the door of her house.

“Max, come here.” Ben walked into the living room, followed by Max’s mom, Gianna. And that made Max’s heart sink to her stomach. She was trying so hard to think of all the things she did and that could potentially make her parents angry or just ground her. But nothing was coming to her mind. She did do things that were- in her mind, bad but fun, but no one knew. Expect for JJ because he was, obviously, there.

Ben and Max sat down in the couch while Gianna left her chair in front of them. This isn’t going to end well. Max thought once she heard her mom let out a sigh. “Ok, first of all, I didn’t do it.”

“What?” Ben and Gianna asked at the same time.

“Whatever it is you guys are mad about, I didn’t do it.”

“What are you talking about? We’re not mad.”

Max threw herself back surprised at her mom’s words. “Oh...”

Gianna let out a laugh while her dad was just shaking his head. “You’re getting used to us talking about your troublemaker hobbies, huh?” Gianna said in a tone that Max couldn’t understand if she was mad or proud.

“There’s a party that we have to attend.” Ben said.

“A party? Where?”

Ben and Gianna looked at each other before Ben said softly, trying to break the news to Max easily. “Figure eight.”

Max felt the disgusted expression go to her face without her brain even telling it to do it. “What? No way.”

“Max,” Ben said “the store is slowly growing but we do need a little help. So my partner knows this guy, that knows this guy that can gets us in one of those parties for... business people.”

Max let out a tiny laugh. “Looks like you know as much as I do.”

“You need to help your dad in this, Max.” Gianna said making Max turn to her mother.

“Why me? Do you guys really know me?”

“I can’t go, Fred has to work, and Cody... well-” Gianna was saying but Max nodded, cutting her off.

“There’s no need to explain that one.”

“Hey!” Max heard her little brother yelling from the kitchen.

“What are you doing listening you little rat?”

“Rat?!” Cody appeared from the kitchen offended by his sister’s words.

“Max, don’t call your brother a rat.” Gianna said and that made Cody to let out his tongue to her, as Max was doing the same.

“Fine.” She said annoyed once Cody left the living room. “So, this party, what do I have to do exactly?”

“Save your dad if he gets stuck in some conversation.”

“But I don’t know anything about business.”

“You’ll find a way. You’re my daughter, can’t be that hard.” As she was saying those words, Gianna winked at Max, making her feel a little more confident about her new task.

“Alright, ok. I’ll go.”

“You’ll have to wear a dress.” Her dad said, and just like that, her confidence went low again.

“Do I have to?” Max asked annoyed.

“Yes, it’s a rule.”

“What? If I don’t I go to detention or something? What’s up with rich people?”

Ben let out a tiny laugh. “Tell me about it.” Gianna gently punched Ben on the arm making Max let out a tiny laugh, remembering her and JJ doing the same.

“You two will be fine.”

“Sure.” Max nodded. “What’s the worst that could happen?” She said, just like she did everytime before something really bad happened.

As Max had her head inside her tiny closet, JJ was behind her, sitting on the bed while his fingers were playing with his lighter. She just finished telling her boyfriend about what her parents said. JJ, surprised that she wasn’t in trouble, furrowed his eyebrows. “So, you’re going to a Kook’s party?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Max said with her head still inside her closet. “But it’s for my dad, I have to help him.”

“And they choose you?”

“My words exactly! But according to my mom, I’ll be fine.”

“Where is it?”

“I have no clue.” She grabbed the first dress that her eyes noticed. “What about this one? Do you like it?”

“What is that?” JJ asked while looking at the tiny dress Max was holding. It was white with pink flowers in it, the long sleeves had a bigger puff at the end, making the dress look as childish as it could get. That wasn’t Max at all.

“I dress that my mom bought me when I was ten...” Max tilted her head backwards annoyed. “What do you want me to do? I don’t own any dresses because I never get invited to one of this parties.”

“What about Kie?” He asked the moment her head went inside her closet once again. “She always gets invited to this Kook shit.”

“That’s a good id- wait! I have one.” Max turned towards JJ once she had her dress on her hand. “This?”

JJ slowly went over the dress with his eyes. “That?”

“What about it?”

“It’s kinda- short.”

“Short? No it isn’t.” Max looked at the dress and then shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve worn shorter.”

“What?” JJ got up from the bed to follow Max, who walked over to the long mirror she had on the side of her bedroom.

“It was- a wild phase I went through.”

“Can I see the things you used to wear.. on you?”

Max let out a tiny laugh. “That’s a party for another day.”

JJ let out a tiny sigh. “You suck.”

“Thanks!” Max yelled leaving her room to enter the tiny bathroom next to her room, followed by JJ who expected to enter the bathroom with her, but she had already closed the door.

“Is there a reason why you decided to change in the bathroom?” He said while he rested his back on the wall. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen all of you... like I haven’t touched, caressed, teased, kissed-” He was saying but Max opening the door cut him off. He turned around but when his eyes were on her dress he stayed still. The dress fitted Max’s body perfectly, marking her curves better than anything else she owned. She was used to using long and big shirts, sometimes crop tops, but never so tight as the black dress she was wearing.

“Are you done?” She asked to him, making him look up at her eyes.

“Wow, holy shit.” That’s all JJ could say, he was still mesmerised by her in that dress.

“Close your mouth, a fly is going to get inside of it.” She said leaving the bathroom and a boy with wild thoughts behind.

“You look hot as fuck.” JJ said once they were back in her room.

“Well, thank you very much.” Max said looking at herself in the mirror. She looked at JJ behind her and a little idea came into her mind. She let out a tiny grin and started to touch her body, looking like she was trying to make it perfect, even if it already was. She stared at JJ looking at her body like he wanted to eat her alive, but not in the creepy way. He was so into her, and Max loved that. But more because she could tease him. “Maybe I will wear the clothes I used to wear.”

Expecting for JJ to get jealous, she lifted the dress a little bit making it ever more shorter. But JJ, instead of putting it down, he just let out a grin and locked eyes with her. “Is that you teasing me?” He asked and then shrugged his shoulders. “It’s alright by me... I know how to fight.” Max wasn’t expecting that. It caught her so off guard that she started to feel her cheeks burn. “Did I just make Max Belinsky blush?” She tried to hide her cheeks by taking her hands to it, but it was too late, JJ was already so proud of himself. “I fucking did! You’re the cutest.” JJ grabbed her hands and took them away from her cheeks.

Max turned to JJ and locked eyes with him, trying too hard to not let the smile escape her lips. “I will kill you. I know how to and how to not get caught, so think about that.”

“I know you watched fifteen season of a show about series killers, so, I’m good.” He said and Max nodded proudly once she turned around to see herself in the mirror again, but this time, to fix herself more seriously. “Should I get worried that a Kook is going to try to steal you from me?”

“Mhm.” Max was going to say that there was no way, but then, a better idea came into her head. “Maybe I should marry a Kook, kill him, get his money and that’s when I get with you again.”

JJ nodded, like Max didn’t just said something crazy. “Sounds like a plan.”

“See? Those fifteen seasons weren’t a waste of time.” Max said turning to face JJ.

“I never said that, my problem is that sometimes I get the impression that you love that guy more than me.”

She smiled when her favorite character came into her head. “Oh, I do. So you’re right.”

“Is that so, princess?” JJ grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, but Max pretended to not care about it at all.

“Yeah,” she nodded innocently “maybe you have to change my mind now.”

“I know the perfect way to do that, Belinsky.” JJ said with a grin, and before any of them could say something else, their lips were already united.

“Are you ready?” Ben Belinsky asked Max once he and her daughter arrived at the party. They were both in front of the house, better to call it a mansion. It had a giant white door as a front door and the columns next to it where bigger than any other column Max had ever seen. The fountains in the front yard looked like some pools she had clean the past summer, she could swim in it and end up tired for how long they were. The last thing that caught Max’s attention was that the entire house was being illuminated by a pink bright light. Maybe these Kooks do party hard.

“Are you?” Max asked once he noticed the nervous look of her dad’s face.

“No.”

“Same.” Max said but then added, trying to give confidence to her and her dad. “We got this.”

“We do?” Ben turned to her confused.

“Dad! We have to be confident. C’mon, you’re a great business man. You’re going to walk through that door and kill all of that people with your charm, your confidence and your knowledge.”

“True!” Ben nodded. “Yes, I am. I am?”

Max sighed and after a couple of seconds, she said softly looking at her dad in the eyes: “Sometimes I truly wonder how you got mom to date you.”

Ben opened his mouth offended. “Hey!” Max shrugged her shoulders and that made Ben let out a tiny laugh and shake his head.

“Ready?” Max asked grabbing his dad’s hand.

Ben looked at the house and then took a big breath before nodding. “Yeah. C’mon.”

As soon as they entered the house the noise of the people talking and the classic music playing hit Max’s ears. Ben’s friend came to greet them and took them both to where his friends where. With her eyes, she followed the room she was in to see if it was bigger than her entire house, and for her and her little body, it felt like it was. The walls had a natural light brown color to it while it had beautiful paintings hanging of it. She got the question about how much worth were they, but then quickly erased it since they probably cost more than her car. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was one of the most beautiful things Max had ever seen. She felt like she was never a materialistic person, she didn’t care about stuff that didn’t had a sentimental meaning towards her. But the moment she layed eyes on that huge thing hanging from the cealing, her eyes got so lost in them that she forgot she had to help his dad on whatever conversation he was having with the people now next to them.

When her dad came into her head, she quickly turned around to face him ready to see if she had ave the conversation he may be having with some business people. But luckily, he was doing just fine. The people were laughing at his jokes, and they seemed interested in the things Ben had to say. Max definitely felt proud and let out a tiny smile, but then it became bigger when she locked eyes with one of her friends.

“I swear I always say that these kind of parties can’t get more boring, but they do.” Kie said once they arrived at a close balcony they found after leaving their parents behind.

“What do you when you’re alone?” Max said before putting a big piece of food that she stole on her mouth.

“Wait for my death.” Kie said dramatically.

Max let out a laugh but then when an idea came to her head, she suddenly stopped and grabbed her friend’s arm. “Should we steal some alcohol?”

Kie’s eyes lifted up and there was some life in them again. “There’s the Max I know.”

She was about to start her plan but another thing appeared on her brain. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I promised my dad to not do any of my funny stuff.” She let out a tiny sigh and threw her head backwards disappointed. “Damn! Sucks to be the good girl.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Maybe I should check on my dad, make sure he’s not embarrassing himself too much.” Max said and which lead to Kie nodding.

“Yeah, I should get back too. If I stay away from my parents too much I will never hear the end of it.” They both said their goodbyes once they spotted Kie’s parents. Max went the other way with the intention to find her dad, but as soon as she turned around at a corner, she didn’t recognise where she was at all. “Where the hell am I?” She whispered to herself but it seemed that someone heard her, since someone touched her shoulder. A girl was standing now in front of her. She had long blonde hair and had a beautiful long light pink dress. She looked at Max weirdly, like she was trying to figure out who she was while Max didn’t care about that at all, all she wanted was to find her dad.

“Question. Do you know where the main living room is? This place is huge.”

“Are you lost?” The girl asked in a non friendly way. It took Max so off guard that she furrowed her eyebrows confused, not really understanding what was wrong with this girl.

“Yeah..?” That made the girl let out a little laugh. But not the ones that you do when someone says something funny, but the one that you do when you’re laughing at someone. The ones that Max didn’t like, at all.

This little bitch. Max thought as the girl was watching her up and down, again.

“You take the stairs and go left.” She said slowly, making Max feel even more irritated.

“Thank you.” She let out a fake smile once her feet started to move away from her, but then, she spoke again.

“Wait, are you Max Belinsky?”

Max stopped confused. “Yeah, how do you know who I am?”

“I’ve heard stuff. And-” the girl looked at Max, for the third time, up and down. Is this little bitch trying to intimidate me? “I just guessed.” She did a tiny disgust expression that lead Max to feel annoyed at her, but instead of starting something that could get her into trouble, she thought that she would take the other road and have fun in the process.

“Oh,” Max said looking down to her shoes “you like my boots? Thanks!”

The girl shook her head confused but then gained her confident and arrogant posture back. “No, I don’t. They look old.”

“So you hate old people?”

“What? No I don’t.”

“You said you hated them because they’re old. So you hate old things. You hate old people. That’s rude, dude.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and that was enough for Max, she started to move away from her once again, but her next words came before she could think of something else. “I don’t know how your boyfriend puts up with you.”

She stopped as she felt fire going through her vains. She never thought that someone she met five seconds ago could make her feel that way, but there she was, trying so hard to not make the girl wake up with a purple eye. “Excuse me?” She asked turning around to face her.

“You heard me. I can’t quite understand how someone like him can go for someone like you.” This little bitch... part 2.

“Someone like me? What, hot? Wait- do you wanna kiss me? Hold ooooon, take me to dinner first.” Max saw how the girl’s face changed completely and she let out a proud smile on the inside.

“Maybe I’ll kiss your boyfriend tonight.” She said trying to get to her, but Max wasn’t having any of her child play so she just rolled her eyes and then nodded.

“Well, good luck with that. See you later.” And just like that, Max turned around and left the girl behind with the anger inside of her, because she couldn’t get to the famous Max Belinsky.

On the way back to the living room Max saw her dad from a far. But once again a strange noise stopped her from moving. “Tssss.” She heard someone calling her attention but nobody was around.

“Hello?”

“Max!” She turned around even more confused.

“God?!”

“Close enough.” The voice said and that made Max recognise it immediately, but before she could turn around towards it, it grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“JJ? What the hell are you doing here?” She asked looking at her boyfriend once they were both hidden behind a dark red curtain. “How did you get in? I’m kinda impressed.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“How did you know it was this house?”

“Well, the pink lights of this house and the music could be heard from miles away. I just hoped for the best.”

Max nodded. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” He responded, clearly impressed with himself. “So, how’s the party going?”

“Lame. But the food is good.”

“Damn Kooks. Wanna get out of here?”

As much as Max wanted to get out and end the night with JJ, his dad wasn’t leaving her mind. “I can’t. What about my dad?”

“Is Max being the good girl tonight?” As soon as he said those words, JJ noticed the fire wanting to come out of his girlfriend’s eyes. “Yeah, you’ll kill me, I know.”

“I can’t leave my dad.”

“I’m sure he’s fine if you leave, besides I don’t think the party will last much longer.”

Max let out a tiny sigh when the temptation of leaving the party became stronger. “You’re a bad influence.”

“I learned from the best.” JJ winked at his teacher.

“Damn right you did. I’ll see what I can do, stay here.”

“Bring me some food!” JJ whispered loudly since Max was already going towards her dad.

“Dad!” She said when Ben noticed his daughter was next to him like before.

“Sweetie,” Ben grabbed Max’s shoulders to gently pull her back so nobody could listen to their conversation. “this is going great.”

“Good! I’m glad to hear that, because-”

“Oh my, what did you do?” Ben asked hoping it wasn’t something as bad as he thought, but knowing his daughter, his fear grew every second.

“Nothing!” Max said quickly. “I was just wondering if I could leave?”

“Leave? Why?”

“Well-” How can you tell your dad you want to sneak out with your boyfriend?

“Is JJ here?” Ben asked like he was reading Max’s thoughts.

Max furrowed her eyebrows confused. “How- What? How did you know?” She turned around to cheek if JJ was on his sight, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Now I know.” He said once Max went back to him.

“Damn, did I just fell for that? From my own father?”

Max was expecting for her dad to say no, but then he said softly: “You can leave, I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, surprisingly, its going better than I expected.” Ben let out a tiny happy smile.

“I’m not surprised, you’re great dad.” Max said and Ben kissed Max’s cheek to say goodbye.

“Go. But get home early.”

Max nodded. “Got it.”

“I mean it.”

“Me too.” Max said but it was obvious Ben didn’t believe her, and Max noticed that. “Ok, not entirely.” She said quickly but before her dad could say something back, she just waved at turned around leaving her dad behind. “Bye!” As Max was walking towards JJ, she looked around once she remembered her boyfriend’s words. She located a plate full of food and quickly grabbed it, somehow, avoiding any eyes on her. “You’re bad.” JJ said once Max crossed the dark red curtain where JJ was hiding and who just saw everything that just happened.

“Thank you.” She said handing the plate to her boyfriend, who was already eating with so much hunger. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” JJ grabbed Max’s hand to start walk towards the door he walked into the house. Max thought that it was some back door and nobody was around when he did, but the opposite, people from the party where hanging out around the backyard where JJ got in. The question how on Earth he walked passed those people without passing unnoticed was going around Max’s head, something that she had to ask him, but never letting him know that she wanted to know his ways. But she was indeed intrigued. As soon as they both walked outside, all of the eyes were on them. Not really caring, they both started to walk away towards the door that leaded to the street. Even if they were just walking talking to each other, the eyes of the Kooks were still on the bodies of the Pogues, probably because the question what are two people like them at the party appeared on their minds, but Max and JJ were absolutely enjoying the attention. Saluting the people around them, Max and JJ made their way to the door, and finally, their both walked out of party leaving those Kooks with the names Max and JJ on their mouths.

“A beer, please.” Max said once they both arrived at some fancy store, still at the Figure Eight.

The guy let out a fake laugh and then shook his head. “Good try, kid.”

Max, and soon followed by JJ, opened her mouth pretending to be offended. “Kid? I’m 22 years old!”

“Alright, ID?”

“Fuck.” Max whispered without breaking the eye contact with the guy. “A coke, then.” The guy handed the coke before Max left the money on the table.

“You’ll see us again.” JJ said, annoyed while pointing at the guy.

“Yeah, come back when you turn 21!” The guy yelled since Max and JJ were already out of the store.

“Damn figure eight.” JJ said disappointed.

“Rich people. They suck.” Max said once she opened her coke, missing the taste of beer on her mouth.

“Thank you for the compliment.” A voice said behind both of them. Confused, they turned around and when Max recognised the girl from before she let out a tiny fake smile. She was with a guy that Max had never seen before. He was tall and had big shoulders, making him look big enough to make someone feel intimidated, but too bad for them, Max and JJ don’t get easily intimidated.

“Oh, look” she pointed at the girl “it’s the girl that wants to kiss my boyfriend and her friend.”

JJ quickly turned to Max confused. “What?”

“Maybe you should watch your mouth.” The guy said looking angrily at Max, which JJ didn’t took too nicely.

“And maybe you should watch who you’re talking to.” He responded.

“Who?” The girl let out a laugh. “A fucking Pogue?”

“I’m a Pogue but you know my name when I don’t know yours, that says something.” Max said before taking a sip from her coke.

“What?”

“That you want to kiss me.” Max said without hesitating. Maybe her fun night wasn’t over. “Girl, my boyfriend is right here. Stop playing.” JJ turned to Max confused but then understood her joke by letting out a tiny proud smile.

The girl rolled her eyes, already knowing Max’s game. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Uuuuh, daddy’s girl just cursed?” JJ said jokingly. “Be careful, you don’t want daddy to find out and take away your boat!”

“Maybe you and your boyfriend should leave our side of the island.” The guy said getting closer to both of them.

“We were about to, but you stopped us.” Max said. “Seems like you want us here... see? Girl! It’s you not me! Your actions are pretty clear, they say what your lips want to do.”

“You wanna fuck my girlfriend?” JJ said, following Max’s game. She let out a smile proudly of her boyfriend.

“No!” The girl yelled.

“Watch your mouth!” The now more angry guy yelled clearly offended of what Max and JJ were saying.

“Hey, that sounded a little bit homophobic, my guy. We don’t judge here.” JJ said shaking his head disappointed.

“You’re homophobic and you hate old people? Girl! C’mon!” Max yelled looking at the girl in the eyes, excitedly waiting for her response.

“Fuck you!” The girl started to get closer to Max angrily.

“What are you gonna do? Because this dress won’t stop me from beating your ass!” Once Max did the same the girl stopped and took steps back, not expecting that reaction in Max at all.

JJ grabbed Max’s arm stopping her from ripping that girl’s hairs off. The girl, trying to regain her posture and her arrogance, let out a tiny fake laugh and looked at Max up and down. “Max, that’s not classy.”

Quickly, Max flipped her off. “Is this classy enough for you?” The guy, angry at Max’s action, tried to get closer to her but JJ was way quicker, stopping the guy by putting his hand in his chest.

“Hey, we’re not looking for trouble here.” JJ said. Max, confused at her boyfriend’s words, furrowed her eyebrows but once JJ turned her head and looked down to her coke before locking eyes with Max, their ideas connected already knowing what they were going to do. “Yes we are.” They both said at the same time, before Max’s coke hit the girl’s body. “You can thank the guy at the store for not being beer!” Max yelled once JJ grabbed her hand to start to walk away from the Kooks.

Loving the feeling of the wind hitting her face while they were both running away, Max was letting out big laughs as the figures of the slow Kooks were becoming smaller and smaller the further they were getting. They got nothing on them, running away often from the police and people that wanted to get them made them professionals at running away. Knowing what to do, JJ turned to the left where some houses where, and finally when the darkness took over their bodies, the Kooks where nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve never been to this part of the island.” Max said with her heavy breathing, hearing the ocean move.

“Fuck. I guess we’re still in figure eight.” They both made a couple of steps away from where they were and as soon as they saw some orange cones they stopped, feeling the beach wind blow around their faces.

“Should be go in?” Max asked with her typical ‘I am about to do something bad’ smile on her face.

“Dude, are you seriously asking me if I want to go inside Kook’s beach? Hell yeah.” JJ nodded. “Maybe they have like a jacuzzi and shit.”

“Here,” she said grabbing two cones and handing one to JJ, who looked at her confused. “we can use this as hats. Complete the outfit.” Even if for some people that might’ve been weird, for them it wasn’t. For them, the weirder the better. And the baddest, the more worth doing it. “Why does the sand feel expensive?” Max asked once her feet touched the sand after taking off her boots.

“Maybe because it is-” JJ was saying but then when he turned around to face her, accidentally hit Max with his cone. “Sorry!” He yelled expecting for Max to get angry at him or even punch him in the arm, but instead, she did the same. “Hey! I didn’t do it on purpose!” And another hit. “You wanna play?” He asked but then no response, just another hit and laughs coming out of her mouth. “Alright, if you want to.” Without giving Max the opportunity to give him another hit, he kneeled down to hit Max on the stomach hoping that Max would give up since she was extremely ticklish, but instead Max did the same and the war between the cones became even more loudly. So loudly that their laughs were now covered by the cones hitting each other. Seconds later, JJ already out of breath but not wanting to give Max the win, he quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her to the sand to accommodate his body on top of her. Their heavy breathings and the ocean behind them was all their could hear. The scenery was so lovely that they forgot about everything, expect themselves.

“Maybe this night wasn’t a fail after all.” Max said caressing his cheek with her thumb once the cones were out of their heads.

“You’re welcome.” JJ said proudly before giving Max a kiss on the lips. “You know, we’re alone, here, in the beach-” He was saying but Max already knowing what he was going to say, shook her head biting her lower lip trying to hide the smile that was appearing on her lips. “What? Is it that wrong that I want to make love to my girlfriend?”

Max shook her head even more quicker and closed her eyes. “Ew.”

“You suck.” JJ said while letting out a laugh. He grabbed her cheek and let his face get closer to hers to feel their closeness ever better. “But I fucking love you.” He said softly making Max give up and let the smile come out of her lips.

“I love you too, dumbass.”

They united their lips letting them lead their way and enjoy the other as much as they wanted. The sand was started to scratch their skin but it didn’t matter, the kiss and their touch was making them ignore everything that was happening around them. It felt like it was just them and nothing else, there was no trouble around, no one to annoy them, no one to ruin the moment, it was finally the two troublemakers together with no surprises around the corner. Until...

“Hey! Stop!” Someone yelled next to them. They both let their bodies go and turned around to see the flashlight pointing at their faces and the two police officers behind the bright lights.

“Fuck.” Max said softly. “Not again!”

>>> don’t play with fire unless you want to get burned, bitch.

@iamaunicorn4704 @onceinagenerationrage @k-k0129 @x-lulu @oopsiedoopsie23 @roamingmarauder @ponyboys-sunsets @agirlwholovescoffee @deviouscharitos @badbitsh13 @cilorawr @ilovejjmaybank @corebore123 @starksweasley @allycat449-blog @netflix-imagines @alwaysasadaesthetic @queenofthepouges @sexytholland @sadcupofcoffee @allielozoya @jjandreidsgirl @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @nevvvv @outerbanksbro @itsyagirljay @kay667 @casper17 @jarahisendgame @niya-savage @scooby6 @dustyjjumpwings @sweetlysilent @stilinskingongo @renatafairchild @stfukie @chasefreakinstokes @beloved-vinyl-addict @acvross-the-universe @ifilwtmfc @talksoprettyjjx @dannii-li @marvel-ousnesss @thegreatestofheck @loveperri @justsomerandompersonintheworld @its-yasbxtch @bxmaaa @hales-a-bells @slutforjjmaybank (+)

[theassthatquits]

Blupjeans Week Day 2 - Ghost

Lup Taaco founded the premier science camp for teens - Camp Rocks! - this side of Faerun almost a decade ago. She did it by herself (mostly) and has the awards, articles, and accolades to prove that it’s a success.

So where does Davenport, her investor, get off going behind her back and hiring someone new without consulting her? Sure, enrollment has plateaued in the last couple of years, the main complaint being that they needed to shake up their staffing and curriculum, but she had it handled. She could take care of it herself, this was just a bump in the road. She didn’t need the help of some fancy doctor, this ‘Dr. Hallwinter’ that Davenport worked with at the university.

Lup scoffed while thumbing through his resume and cover letter. Top of his undergrad at Neverwinter U, a triple major in chemistry, astronomy, and physics. A brief stint working at a funeral home - a little weird, but everyone goes through a quarter life crisis, right? Returning to school a couple years later to get his masters and PhD and now taught at the same university while simultaneously doing interplanar research with Davenport. At the bottom of his resume with “related skills” he put ‘huge nerd’, as if that wasn’t obvious enough.

“Well, at least he knows what he’s talking about,” she muttered to herself as she threw the papers aside. There was no use fighting it now, she had spent weeks arguing and it wasn’t getting her anywhere. And it wasn’t like this was a bad idea, it just wasn’t her idea. This was her camp, after all.

---

Okay, maybe this Dr. Hallwinter guy wasn’t such a bad fit. They got off on the wrong foot, having a couple of heated discussions (fights) about things that she could barely remember. But now, she was standing in the corner of the pavilion, watching him give a very animated lecture on stars and planets. Angus McDonald, one of their first campers and the only one who came every single year, kept raising his hand to ask new questions and Hallwinter loved it. The two of them could go back and forth for hours, talking about theories and experiments and life itself. Angus had signed himself up for all of Dr. Hallwinter’s classes for the summer and loved every minute.

And he wasn’t so bad to look at, she supposed.

Lup was snapped out of her reverie by the class laughing very loudly at some Fortnite reference he made. Without realizing it, she smiled too. Dr. Hallwinter looked up at that moment to see her and his grin grew even bigger. With their eyes locked together, he dabbed and the class lost it all over again. When she giggled at that, she could have sworn he was blushing.

---

Every year towards the end of the summer the staff throws a “spooky soiree” to celebrate the end of camp. Everyone dresses up in a science-themed costume, they use the different things they have learned to create gruesome and cool decorations and effects, and they end the night with a ghost story bonfire. It’s easily Lup’s favorite night of camp. She loves amazing all of the younger kids with the cauldrons of “witches brew” (just dry ice in some punch) and grossing them out with the “eyeballs” (peeled grapes). This year she sewed some LEDs into her black vest, creating stars and constellations. Lup glowed in the dark and she fucking loved it.

She was in the middle of a (spooky) explanation of the witch's brew when she caught sight of Dr. Hallwinter walking up to the party. He was wearing a white shirt with lines drawn across it like a measuring cup and a long red robe over it. She was pretty sure he was wearing a graduation cap, too, which would mean…

“Holy shit you’re a graduated cylinder!” Lup shouted at him from across the way.

Immediately squeals of “language, Miss Lup!” began in front of her and she apologized to them as Dr. Hallwinter walked over with a smile on his face.

“Sure, am! This is pretty much my only Halloween costume, but I do love it.”

“Well, it certainly works for you, Dr. Hallwinter.”

He blushed before saying, “Lup, please just call me Barry. We’ve been having this discussion all summer. The only other person who calls me Dr. Hallwinter is Angus.”

As if to prove his point, Taako swooped in at that moment in a chef’s costume with the letters “FE” written on his shirt and yelled, “Excellent costume, Barold! You look even more like a nerd than usual and that’s saying something.”

Barry laughed. “Thank you, Taako, or should I say Iron Chef?”

Taako bowed deeply. “At your service, sir.”

“Dr. Hallwinter, sir!” They saw smoke before they saw Angus and Lup was a little alarmed before she realized that it was part of his costume. The boy had dressed up like a volcano with fake lava and smoke coming out of the top of it. “Look, it works!”

“All right, buddy!” The pair high fived and a weird fuzzy feeling struck Lup while watching the two of them.

“I think they’re about to start the scary stories over by the bonfire, are you coming, sir?”

“Pshh am I coming? Miss Lup asked me if I could host the festivities. Now you go get a good seat and I’ll be right over to start us off.”

Angus saluted him and ran off, eager for the frights ahead.

“Hosting the ghost stories, that’s a big deal Barold. Lup has hosted the bonfire herself for the last - oh, I don’t know, 2 decades?”

Barry turned to Lup, confused. “Is that true? I don’t want to impose or ruin any traditions.”

She waved him off. “Nah, it’s fine. We got off on the wrong foot, think of it as a peace offering.” Stepping closer to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, her voice got quiet. “You’re a member of this family, Barry.”

It was a good thing it was so dark, otherwise she would have seen his face turn a deep red. “You said my name.”

“Yeah, yeah, go get ready to spook some kids, Bluejeans.”

“Bluejeans?”

“You’ve worn the same blue jeans every single day since you started, even when we do activities by the lake. I’m absolutely convinced that you only packed that one pair for the entire summer.”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you’re not entirely wrong.”

“Barold. My dude. You only packed one pair of jeans, no shorts, no swim trunks, for an entire summer at a camp?”

“There might have been a slight mishap on the way here in which I lost my shorts, swim trunks, and half of my underwear.”

No one moved or said anything for a second before Taako finally said, “Barry, you know we go into town once a week to get food for the camp, right?”

Barry just stared into space, regretting all of his life choices that led up to this moment. Lup busted up laughing, harder than anyone had seen her laugh all summer. As she wiped a tear from her eye, she patted his shoulder and said, “Well, I guess you know for next year, right?”

He raised an eyebrow playfully. “Next year, huh?”

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t make any promises until I see how well you do at our bonfire fright fest. Speaking of which, we should definitely be heading over there. I am a little nervous to see how Magnus has been keeping the kids occupied.”

---

Lup stood in the back of the crowd, letting Barry take over the hosting responsibilities of the bonfire. It was one of her favorite parts of camp, but it felt right to let him do it. He was doing really well, enhancing his performance with shadow puppets from the fire and interspersing the scary parts with science puns to ease the nerves of the younger kids. She found it absolutely adorable.

“I think Barold is giving you a run for your money, Lulu.”

“He’s better than I expected, that’s for sure.”

“I’m glad you gave the guy a chance. He’s a good dude.”

She smiled. “He is, isn’t he?”

Taako took a moment, watching his sister watch Barry. “You have the hots for him, don’t you? Jeezy creezy, I should have seen this coming. Those arguments you two had at the beginning were spicy.”

“What?!” Lup said, a little too loudly, face flushing. “I do not have the hots for Dr. Bluejeans. He’s just funny and good with the kids and very smart and looks good in jeans and oh my god I have the hots for Dr. Bluejeans.” Her eyes got wide and she clutched Taako’s arms. “Taako what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Lulu, I say this with all the love in my heart: don’t follow your instincts. Right now, your instincts are telling you to let him walk away tomorrow and not say anything, and they are dead wrong.”

“Ughhh but what if he doesn’t feel the same? It ruins the professional relationship we have and then I have to ban him from the camp and then Angus will hate me and we will lose our best customer.”

“Something tells me he also feels the same way.”

“But how do you know that?”

30 minutes earlier

Lup went ahead before the boys to make sure that Magnus hadn’t started a revolution of sorts and that left Barry and Taako to quickly clean up the food before following. Barry’s eyes lingered a little too long on Lup as she was walking away.

“Barold. Are you checking out my sister?”

“What?! No, what makes you think that?”

“I rolled a Nat 20 on perception, Barold. Legally you cannot lie to me. Now tell me: do you have the hots for my sister?”

Barry covered his face with his hands. “Maybe? Yes. Absolutely. Completely. As soon as she called me a poorly-dressed poser on my first day I was done for.”

“Rad. You should do something about that.” Taako started walking towards the bonfire, witch’s brew in hand.

“What, like tell her?”

“Tell her, kiss her, fight her, just something so I get to stop looking at you two making eyes at one another,” Taako yelled back without stopping.

“What - we don’t make eyes at one another, that’s not…she makes eyes at me?”

“Yeah, I think you’re good, my dude.”

The kids started clapping, signaling the end of the story that Magnus was telling.

“All right, thank you Magnus. Very scary, that story about zombie dogs. I think next up we have everyone’s favorite camp director, Miss Lup!”

The kids cheered and Lup had to pull herself together to nail this story that she was definitely going to pull out of her ass because she most certainly hadn't prepared anything.

“Are you kids ready to get the pants scared off of you?”

They screamed enthusiastically.

“All right, this story is about our very own Lake Igneous here at Camp Rocks. Legend has it that there was a woman who used to live in these woods by herself, not letting anyone else get near her. She refused help from anyone that came by, wanting to do everything alone and remain independent. The campers nearby could hear her blowing shit up in the woods and they knew to steer clear. One day, a man stumbled into her home, lost and confused. She lit off several explosions in an attempt to scare him off but he didn’t want to leave.”

As she talked, her eyes found Barry’s.

“He saw how lonely she was and helped her blow shit up. Eventually she grew to really like the man and really enjoyed blowing things up with him.” Barry laughed at that. Lup, suddenly remembering that this was supposed to be a scary story, abruptly tore her eyes away from his.

“They thought it would be a good idea to light some fireworks on the lake, so they took a boat out to the center and created the biggest and most beautiful explosion known to man, taking both of them out. They sacrificed their lives for the dopest light show, and sometimes, on a very clear and quiet night, you can see them in the lake, hand in hand.”

Lup bowed to signal that the story was over and she took her place back next to Taako.

“Lup, that was...pretty rough, not going to lie. Not your best work, that’s for sure.”

“I just got so distracted looking at his dumb face.”

“Yeah, that whole story was glaringly obvious.” She glared at him.

“I just need to get through this night without further making an ass of myself.”

He snorted. “Good luck.”

--

After the bonfire had wrapped up and all the kids were sent to bed, Lup sat at her favorite spot down by the lake to stare at the stars. She always sat here on the final night, reminiscing over the summer.

“Mind if I join you?” Barry’s voice came out of nowhere, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t expect it. Lup didn’t respond, just patted on the ground next to her. “So, your story was -”

“It’s okay, you can say it was shit, because it was. I definitely did not prepare this year like I usually do.”

“-good. I really liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Especially the part where they die a fiery but beautiful death.”

She snorted and he took the opportunity to move closer to her, their shoulders touching.

“Thank you for letting me join the team this summer.”

“I would say you’re welcome, but I honestly didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

“I know. Thank you for giving me a shot.”

“Again, not much choice in the matter.” He laughed. “You turned out alright. Better than I was expecting.”

“High praise from Miss Camp Director.”

“Would you be interested in coming back next year?”

“Absolutely. Pretty sure Angus would boycott if I didn’t show up.”

“He would just show up on your doorstep. Expect a lot of emails this year. So I’ll see you next summer, then?” He hesitated. “Unless you already have other commitments, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Lup, I’ll definitely be here next summer. I was just hoping that maybe we could see each other a little sooner than that. Like maybe this Saturday, dinner?”

She smirked. “A little forward, aren’t we, Dr. Bluejeans?” His face dropped.

“Oh, God. Did I totally misread this situation? Fuck, I am so sorry, I am going to just walk into this lake and never come back -” Barry started to get up, mortified.

“Barry, stop.” He looked at her, eyes wide in embarrassment. She shifted so her face was directly in front of his. “You didn’t misread this situation.” And then she kissed him.

@blupjeansweek2021

[septicbro1005]

Paint Me How You See Me

A/N: Okay, you have no idea how excited I was to see that I had permission to write this. I literally am so happy I could scream. Will I? Not out loud. This actually made me so excited that I got up and started walking around my room and smiling holy shit. Alright. Enough of that. I was inspired to write this story by a comic made by the fantastic @venadorosas​ and I just am so damn excited to write this! I am not an art student myself, but I will do my best to replicate it with what I know. I hope I do the comic justice! Just a few more things before this thing starts: I'm gonna do myself and make this a Quirkless AU as well as make Yuuei a university instead of a high school. This is unedited, so if there are sentences or misspellings, that is why, and I apologize. Anyway, let's get rolling!

Kirishima's POV

One stroke after the other.

Small, swift.

One stroke makes a world of a difference.

So don't… mess… up.

I only have one canvas left after this one, but I'm saving it for something important. Something special. Just need to figure out what.

I mean, yeah, I have others on back order, and Mr. Miyoshi is usually pretty cool with giving me some, but I still need to think about what to do with the 106 cm by 106 cm canvas.

A canvas that big needs something worth being put on there.

"Psst, Kiri--" "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhut," I hissed out through clenched teeth.

"You nee--" "I said shut,"

"B--" "No. Shut. Lemme finish,"

The person who proceeded to pester me, even after I told him to be quiet, was none other than Hanta Sero.

He was an art student, along with myself and several others I know by name.

One of which was Katsuki Bakugou.

And damn, was he confusing.

He was this aloof dude who talked to maybe two people by his own volition.

Some random girl who I see him talk to ever now and again. I think we've spoken twice? All I remember is she told me to call her Tsu.

And then me.

Sure, he'd talk to the professors and people like that, but if he didn't have to speak, he wouldn't.

Yet, he spoke to me.

Not only did he barely talk to people, but he also is probably one of the best looking people on campus.

I kid you not, the first time I saw this dude, I was totally sure I'd met Adonis in human form.

His ash blond hair was styled into a fluffy undercut that I would pay money for to be able to run my hands through, even once. His gauges and helix piercings gave him a bit of an edge, but that's what made him more alluring. He came into class one day, wearing a wife beater, which put a tattoo on full display, resting on his right shoulder.

It isn't just his looks that are attractive either. The way he holds himself, presents himself, just his whole aura is indescribable, to keep it brief.

And he was the person I was painting this for.

This wasn't his first commission. Not by a long shot. And this one was fairly simple as well. Still, I poured my heart and soul into it, just like every piece.

But with his commissions, I feel the need to work that much harder. To push myself that much farther. To make it perfect, in a word.

Now, I know that perfection is impossible, but I still want to achieve it.

I mean, if Bakugou could, I could too, right?

"Kirishima, I've been talking to you for the past couple of seconds and you haven't shushed me. Don't zone out on me right now, man,"

Sero's voice managed to pull me out of this trance, but only a bit.

The ash blond with the scarlet glare was still in the back of my mind.

"What?"

"You need lunch, man," Sero said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Listen, I thank you for your concern, but I had a protein shake maybe six hours ago. I'm dandy," I mumbled, doing a few more soft strokes before standing up. "Plus, I'm not even hungry," 

"Dunno what kind of protein shake you're drinking, but you still need sustenance. C'mon," Sero attempted to persuade me as I walked to the sink to clean the small brush.

"I'm cool, dude. I have a granola bar or two in my bag. I'll eat when I'm hungry," I chuckled lightly, turning on the water and cleaning the brush.

Sero sighed in defeat, as this marked the second week in a row where I substituted breakfast with a protein drink and lunch with a granola bar.

"Alright, fine. Make sure you eat dinner tonight, or Mr. Miyoshi is gonna kick you out again," Sero said, beginning to walk to the door.

"I know, I know,"

"I'll be off, then,"

"Peace out, dude,"

I heard the door to the studio shut, and it was just me in here.

Just me and the paint.

"Hey, Siri,"

My phone lit up, hearing its name.

"Play Rex Orange County on Spotify,"

As I began to finish up some touches on the snow covered forests surrounding a bright red cardinal, the song Uno filled my ears.

The song had no real relevance, but I love that song so much. I dunno if its just because it sounds so simple and sweet, but I just think the song's pretty great.

I'd say after maybe forty-five minutes of doing seemingly pointless touch-ups, I stood back, admiring my work.

Not much needed to be done, but I needed this to be phenomenal.

"I'll just use a simple varnish once everything is dry, then I can move it into the back," I muttered to myself, as if someone was there and I had to be quiet. "Can I finish it today? I could tell him where it is, and wait for the money to come in, I guess,"

A few seconds pause later, and I continued.

"Wow, great job, Eijirou. You sound like a dickwad who just wants money,"

A short sigh, a granola bar and maybe a half an hour or so later, everything seemed dry.

"Let's varnish this motherfucker, and I'll text him when that's done," I mumbled, going into the cabinets, looking for the varnish.

No other assignments at the moment… okay! Cool! I can probably head back to my dorm, chill there, and text Bakugou when it's done!

When I finally found it, I got to work on the varnish.

***

"And sent," I whispered as I approached the dormitories.

I just sent Bakugou a short text, telling him where to find it, how to send me the money (although he probably knows the process by heart at this point) and all that jazz.

My dorm building was in sight when my phone buzzed once.

It was a different buzzing pattern than all the others.

"Oh, Bakugou responded this quickly?" I thought aloud.

Opening my phone, I checked the message.

Sent the ¥321.7K 

My eyes widened at the number.

"I sure as hell didn't tell him to send me that much, what the hell?"

                                                   What!? The commission was only ¥48.2K?!

His response was immediate.

Left a tip.

Get yourself something nice.

"Whoa," I murmured.

Now, I knew Bakugou was on the higher end of the economic spectrum, but hot damn! 

He did usually give me more money than I told him to, but that fact that he gave me that much more this time just seemed to solidify the thought of him being rich.

So manly.

Heading into my dorm building, I looked to the elevators, only to see an out of order sign on them both.

"Are you kidding me?" I whispered. "Fine, guess I'm just gonna take the damn stairs,"

I got a notification, seeing the ¥321.7K was successfully put into my account, and I knew this commission was over.

But at this point, I knew what to expect from Bakugou. Next time I see him, he's gonna ask me about another one.

Not that I mind, not one damn bit. I'm cool with any excuse to talk to him, and I'm happy to please him with my art.

I just gotta brace myself for the next time I see him.

Trudging up the stairs, I began pondering what he would want next.

He seems to really like requesting animals, mainly birds such as crows and cardinals, but will he do something different? Ooh, maybe a peacock! Or maybe he'd want some other winged creature… like maybe an insect? Or possibly he'll switch it up on me.

As I ended up on the next staircase, I heard someone else's footsteps approaching.

Looking up, my eyes were met with a familiar scarlet pair of eyes.

"Oh, hey, Bakugou!" I said with a wave.

"Hey," he replied with a simple nod.

Fuck, he was just as gorgeous as always.

A grey turtleneck hugged his torso, with a black and white pinstripe button up on over it. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black jeans, a wallet chain dangling on his right side. A pair of black converse and a dog tag finished his look, alongside my composure.

"Thanks again for the great work," he said, his husky voice hypnotizing me further.

"You haven't already picked it up, have you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "I don't think I saw you walk past me to get to the parking lot,"

"Nah, but I know it's gonna look good," his compliment was accompanied by a smirk.

Short-lived, yes. But a smirk nonetheless.

"Aw, thanks dude! Always happy to make something for my best customer!" I felt myself beam at him. 

"See you around, Red," he said, continuing down the stairs.

"Bye," I waved with a small smile on my face as he disappeared down the stairs.

I quickly hauled ass up to my floor, speed walked to my door and slammed the keys in.

Gay panic in private, dude.

Opening the door, I pulled my key out and shut the door.

"I'm back, Omi!" I shouted into the apartment to see if my roommate was here.

"Hey," my roommate responded from his bed.

"Is it cool if I hop in the shower real quick?" I asked, jerking a thumb toward the bathroom.

"Sure thing. Keep it brief," Omi said, making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, dad," I sighed, but I gave a smile to show it was all in jest.

After locking myself in the bathroom and stripping myself down to absolutely nothing, I got in the shower and had a gay crisis.

Because that's the only place you can have those, y'know?

But a good ol' Panic! In The Shower was enough to calm my nerves.

As I stepped out of the bathroom to grab clothing, I heard Omi laughing.

"What?"

"That Bakugou guy really messes you up, huh?" his laughter was thrown in between words, but I knew exactly what he was referencing.

"If I'm being too loud, just knock on the door, dude! Tell me to shut it, I don't care," I flushed, looking at the ground, my hand tightening around the towel that hung on my waist.

Omi just kept laughing at me as I grabbed my clothes; a simple crimson riot shirt, boxers, black shorts and my wave socks.

It isn't like I'm going anywhere tonight, right?

…

Is what I originally thought until I was dressed and realized I left my motherfucking cardigan at the studio.

"Ugh, fuck," I groaned, rubbing a towel on my head.

"Left your cardigan again?"

"Perhaps," 

"You might as well just wrap it around your waist," Omi suggested.

"And risk getting paint on it?" I looked at Omi like he was a motherfucking psychopath. "Hell no. The cardigan was my grandmother's, so I ain't doing shit to it,"

"Clearly, if you're leaving it in the studio again," Omi mumbled.

"Shush!" I whined, grabbing my keys and slipping on my red sneakers. "I'll be back,"

"Okay,"

Leaving my dorm, I began going down the stairs when I ran into someone.

It was Bakugou, again.

And just when I thought my gay panic was over for the day.

"Oh, hey," I said as casually as possible.

Which probably sounded forces as fuck, because it felt like my heart was just about ready to implode.

"Red," Bakugou was looking me up and down.

I don't think I've ever felt more self-conscious about my appearance in my life.

"I've got another request, if it isn't too much,"

"O-oh, okay!" 

Why did I stutter?! That was so unmanly!

"So, what is it?"

I looked into his gorgeous eyes, trying to see further into him, but I was only met with his right hand slamming into the wall next to my head.

Oh shit, oh fuck. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna collapse, right here. Right now. I can't handle this.

"Uh, dude? You--" "Paint me how you see me, Kirishima,"

Uh, what?

I was stuck between saying "Got it," and "What?" so my dumbass just responded with this:

"Gweh?"

We sat there, in silence, staring at each other.

My face was flushing bright red, and I wanted to look away, but I didn't. I couldn't. His eyes just drew me in.

He moved his arm to his side, and began to head up the stairs.

Quick, say something coherent!

"O-on it!"

I swear, I saw him smile a bit before he was completely gone.

What was I doing again?

***

It's been around three weeks.

It's been three weeks of planning, sketching, and small, swift strokes.

And plenty of panic, but that's irrelevant. There was a bit of disco, so it balances out anyway.

Mr. Miyoshi did end up setting a curfew on me, to make sure I didn't pass out at the studio, but it wasn't set until it had already happened.

But, since I wanted to work on it after the curfew, I brought it to the dorm, keeping it on newspaper and buying the paint I needed.

I had the picture in my mind, which I did my best to replicate without him genuinely modelling for me.

It was a ¾ shot of his shirtless back, with him looking over his right shoulder, giving a perfect view of his side profile. I also made sure I replicated his tattoo to the best of my abilities, and I think it came out okay.

But that isn't all!

Monarch butterflies lined his back, as a fiery looking echo was placed slightly to the left. 

Those warm colors contrasted like hell, compared to the blues and navy of the background.

Just to fuck around with more color, flecks of brighter colors adorned the background, giving it sort of galaxy look.

I thought it looked gorgeous.

And not just because it's Bakugou.

You know how when you make something, and you worked so damn hard on it, and when it's done, you're just filled with pride?

This is one of those works for me.

"Omi!" I yelled about before cringing.

It's 01:35.

"Yeah?" 

Why the fuck does he sound like he's been awake?

"First of all, have you been awake this whole time? Second of all, could you grab me my phone?" I said a little quieter.

"It's done?" Omi asked, coming over with my phone.

"I'm happy with it," I said with a huge grin.

"Looks fantastic," Omi pat my shoulder before walking off.

Using my nose, I unlocked my phone and took a picture before putting my phone down.

I just looked at the painting, with Bakugou's slight pout catching my eyes.

I have absolutely zero clue what came over me, but I lifted my forefinger to my mouth, and pressed a small peck to it.

My forefinger rested against the painting's lips, and I just felt warm.

And that was probably the best feeling ever.

I gotta give this to him in person. It's about time I told him.

***

What floor are you on again?

                                                                                    Number two. Room 204.

Okay, I'm coming over.

I let out a shuddery breath, looking at the canvas, which I covered with a blanket.

I need to tell him.

It's time.

I kept opening my phone, making sure I had the song ready to play at the click of a button.

He needs to know.

A loud knock landed on my door, and I jumped.

I walked over to the door, playing the song as I opened it.

"Hey, Bakugou! Come in!"

The ash blond entered, wearing a button up and jeans again, just no turtleneck this time.

"So, I wanted to give this one to you in person… because I…" I was stumbling over my words.

Calm down, Eijirou. You got this.

"Because this could very well be the last commission you want from me,"

This made Bakugou's usual deadpan change ever so slightly. His left brow rose up as his head tilted to the side.

"And why might that be?"

"I…"

Fucking say it.

Spit it out.

"I like you," I barely got out before throwing my gaze at the ground. "I like you a lot. You're just so cool and collected, and from what I know about you, I like it. And I want to know more. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I just had to get that out," 

Before I even looked at him, I walked over to the painting, still looking at the ground, and pulled the blanket off.

Everything was silent, except for the music in the background. But even the song was at a quieter part than the rest of it.

I felt Bakugou's eyes on me and not the painting, which terrified me to no end.

Should I have even said anything?

"You don't have to pay if you don't want to or if you don't like it. And…" I took in a shaky breath, looking at the ground, lazily gesturing to the painting and then myself. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, if you even thought of us as friends, then you can ignore me,"

His footsteps were soft, but I knew they were coming. So when his black converse appeared in my vision, I looked off to the side as my vision blurred with tears that threatened to spill. 

A finger went under my chin, turning my face to him.

His eyes met mine, and he was smiling.

"You really are oblivious, huh?"

"Gweh?"

Fucking, again?

Bakugou laughed before leaning in a bit, his head turning to the left.

"Can I kiss you as a tip?"

My whole brain has short-circuited, but I turned my head to the right and leaned in closer.

My eyes slowly closed, and when his lips met mine, I was immediately thrown into a state of euphoria.

Holy shit, this is happening.

This is actually happening!

I couldn't help the smile that bloomed on my face as I draped my arms over his shoulders, and I couldn't stop laughing either.

It was so fucking amazing.

Small blazes of tears made tracks down my cheeks, but I didn't care. Unless my nose starts running, I'm not gonna let some tears mess up this kiss.

But, all good things must come to an end, as Bakugou pulled back.

His eyes were on mine, and for once, they were soft. A small grin was pasted on his features, his hands on my face.

"Why are you crying?" he asked as his thumb rubbed at my dampened cheek.

I just felt myself giggle in response. 

"Well, I was originally gonna cry because I thought you wouldn't be cool with my confession, but these tears quickly turned sweet," I just couldn't stop laughing. "Shit, I'm so happy,"

We just stood there for a few moments of content silence before Bakugou spoke up.

"So, how the hell am I supposed to bring this painting to my dorm?" 

"I can help you bring it up there!" I offered.

"I get to bring two masterpieces to my dorm? Great!" Bakugou oozed confidence as he said that.

"Dear christ," I began giggling again, since that was unexpected.

We grabbed the painting, and I made sure Bakugou was careful with it, but was also holding it properly.

"Hey, Omi! Could you get the door?"

"Sure,"

"Your roommate was here?" Bakugou asked.

"Well, it's his dorm too." I pointed out as Omi got the door for me. "Plus, it isn't like I wasn't so obviously crushing on you,"

"It really wasn't," Omi said, patting my back carefully. "But congratulations to the both of you,"

"Thanks, Omi,"

Bakugou just gave a small murmur to thank Omi.

"Alright, Bakugou, you go through the door first, then we can keep walking," I said, turning us so Bakugou could walk out the door properly.

"Okay,"

After a quick minute of maneuvering, we managed to get the painting up the stairs without damaging it.

"So you're which dorm?"

"302," Bakugou said as we got to his door.

"Coolio!" I grinned.

"Dork," Bakugou snickered at me. "How d'you want this to be put down?"

"We can just rest it against the wall," I said, propping the painting up on the wall.

"Give me a quick sec," Bakugou mumbled, unlocking the door.

He swung the door open and made sure it stayed open. 

"Alright,"

"At this point, I'm gonna follow you. You know where you wanna put this?" I asked him.

"Uhm… I think Misumi wouldn't mind if I placed this on his side of the room until I know exactly where to hang it," Bakugou said as we walked into the room.

***

My paintings were all on the wall. The snow surrounded cardinal, the murder of crows, all of them.

Except one.

The other paintings sort of made a frame, with a 106 cm x 106 cm square in the middle.

"Hey, honey?" I called out.

"What's up, Rourou?" Katsuki asked from the other room.

"Could you grab me the step ladder?"

"Shorty," I heard Katsuki laugh.

"I heard that, Katsu! You aren't as quiet as you think!"

"Says you, of all people!" Katsuki chuckled, coming on with the step ladder.

"Thank you, baby," I said, pecking his cheek.

"Of course. Putting up the last one?" He asked.

"Yep!" I said, grabbing the painting I made all those years back.

The monarch butterflies dotting his spine, his scarlet glare, gorgeous fluffy hair, all of it brought together, and hung up on our wall.

I got off the step ladder, and looked at the paintings. Every single one of them.

A hand snaked around my waist and pulled me in close.

"I love you so much, baby," Katsuki whispered, kissing my forehead.

"I love you too,"

His hand rubbed against my waist, but I could feel one thing that was inconsistent with the feeling of the rest of his hand.

A golden band sat on his left ring finger, practically identical to the one that sat on my left ring finger.

A/N: And that's all! Honestly, I'm very pleased with this, and think this came out well! I hope that those of you who see this like it too! I want to thank @venadorosas for allowing me to write a story based off of their comic and for making such fantastic art. If you like my writing, I'm also on Wattpad, so check me out there, if you're up for it. Same username and profile picture. I do believe that this is it! I apologize for the ending, as it feels a little odd to me, I just don't have any idea how to end it properly. I sincerely hope that I did the comic justice. Love y'all! Stay safe and healthy! - Septic

[koko-bopp]

Hyung — jeon jungkook

jeon jungkook x fuckboy!male!reader

word count – 3K

genre – Mature | highschool!au

warnings – SMUT, bottom!jungkook, Hyung kink, handcuffs, riding, the reader goes from being submissive to dominate all in the same hour.

synopsis – hey babe can you do another bts x male reader? i was thiking about one where jungkook is falling in love with a fuckboy older than him... there are like i dont know fuckbuddies??? like taking stress away together 🤔 you know what i mean lol

"Jungkookohmhgod! You're dating [Y/N]–!!"

Jungkook immediately covered his best friends mouth with both of his hands, stopping him from exposing such damaging information despite the fact that nobody was around, "Jimin! For fuck's sake!" He whispered, "We're not dating!"

"You might as well be!" Jimin insisted, "He's like a whole year older then you! And you went to his dorm room! Oh my god, did you bottom? Did you top?!"

"Jimin!" Jungkook whined, putting his head in his hands, "Please concentrate, this is a real crisis."

"Dude... Sorry, I'm just really shocked and... I don't know, " Jimin admitted, clearly calming down at the news, gripping his own arm in thought, "...How long has, you know, all this gone on for?"

"Four and a half weeks? Give or take." Jungkook confessed.

"Damn. Kook, you sure about him? Just based on first impressions, he's really different from you, " Jimin said, "Like, I heard he slept with his entire gym class at his last school, I'm just surprised he's your type..."

Jungkook flushed a light pink, you really weren't his type. Initially. He thought he wanted the kind of boys who looked like they were going to get into the most prestigious universities, the type that looked like bought you flowers on weekends and took you on cute dates. That's why he had the biggest crush on Taehyung, his close friend, but as soon as you transferred high schools, you became the talk of the school. There was nobody not talking about you, he even heard rumours entering the damn teachers' lounge.

Jungkook was whipped for you as soon as he saw you during your first lunch break. You were also friends with Taehyung's brother, Seokjin, so he heard so much about you anyway and vice versa.

Then came the day where Jungkook spent an evening in detention for breaking the dress code on showing your shoulders. He'd worn a white t-shirt that exposed his collar bone. Of course, he didn't do it on purpose, he was always such a good student. However, he wasn't mad at his decision, because you ended up being in the same detention room as him after school.

One thing led to another and as soon as the supervising teacher existed the room to answer a phone call from his wife, you had Jungkook pinned against you on the teacher's desk, lifting him up and dragging your hands all over his body. Jungkook's lips clashing with yours in such a way that you were addicted to the feeling.

This went on for weeks; making out in storage rooms, fucking in empty classrooms. Hell, Jungkook once gave you a handjob in the auditorium.

He was so in love with you, and he didn't know why, but when you skipped your class to take him out to lunch he was so whipped. He wouldn't stop taking about you, but only Taehyung knew such a fact, since Seokjin had no problem telling his brother such things.

It was only now that you were coming over to his house to... Relieve some stress, and Jungkook honestly thought it would be much easier to deal with if he just collapsed and died. You'd always done the dirty deed in other places, this was the first time it was at his house and it was because Jungkook accidentally let out that his parents weren't going to be home for the weekend.

"Jiminnnn!" Jungkook cried, "What do I do?"

"Can I be honest?"

Jungkook nodded.

"Play hard go get."

Jungkook scoffed, "That won't work. I'm honestly really easy to get, like way too easy."

His best friend raised a frustrated eyebrow, "Make him work for it, I mean. You're clearly bottom, but make it so that you have the upper hand."

Jungkook tilted his head, not fully reading between the lines of Jimin's suggestion.

"Ride his cock."

Oh. Oh. Jungkook looked at his kitchen counter for a second. Thinking about the idea.

It was a good idea.

Jungkook snapped out of his thought, shaking his head before putting his hands on Jimin's shoulders, "Regardless of what my plan is, you need to leave, he'll be here in half an hour."

Jimin rolled his eyes, "Just... Be careful, yeah?"

He nodded.

°•.°•°•.•°°•.

Jungkook's head perked up from the couch when the doorbell rang, he threw his homework on the coffee table of his living room, getting up to fix his shirt. He was wearing a simple beige shirt, one that fit him well. Along with a pair of grey sweatpants. It was nothing special, as if, they were going to come off, so it didn't really matter.

Jungkook opened the door much to his delight you were standing at the door, your signature senior jacket over your shoulder with your forearm resting on the doorframe. You had a smirk on your face, one that tends to make Jungkook melt, "Hey, Kookie."

Jungkook smiled, "Hey."

There wasn't a second thought, you entered the house, dropping your jacket onto the floor, immediately closing or behind you only to push Jungkook against the wall. He tangled his hands into your hair, your hands on his waist and your bodies flush against each other as you two made out like tomorrow was out of the option.

Jungkook took the chance to switch the position, with your lips still on his, your was back now roughly pushed against the wall he was on, much to your surprise. Jungkook took the liberty to roll his hips against yours, his crotch briefly grinding on yours as Jungkook pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, "Damn, Kook. Feeling brave are we?"

Jungkook blushed, "I just... really, really want you so bad right now."

"Bedroom. I'll be there in a second, I want your shirt off."

He nodded obediently, heading to his room like a puppy, taking his shirt off, even putting the lube on the table so it would be easier for you to get when you needed it.

Half a second went by when a good idea popped into Jungkook's mind, Jimin had jokingly gotten him a birthday present last year, something he'd worn a few times and something he knew he had, but never got the chance to use it; partly because he was borderline embarrassed, and partly because he didn't have any sexual partners at the time.

Jungkook took out the choker that was dangling from one of the hangers from inside his wardrobe, then getting the something that made his lips twitch up slightly, putting the secret tool into the pocket of his sweatpants; instead, walking to the full-length mirror to carefully put the black lace choker around his neck.

"Jungkook, holy shit." You walked back into the room, your shirt was off and the zipper of your jeans were undone. You glanced at Jungkook's neck, the black material contrasting well with his skin tone, and just thinking about what you could do to the younger boy with such a thing prompted you to lick your lips. You approached Jungkook, hooking a finger underneath the fabric, pulling it so Jungkook was closer, "Is this for me?"

Jungkook giggled, he turned so his back was facing the mirror and your calves were facing the bed. He pushed you on the bed gently, climbing on top you, straddling your hips and placing his hands onto your chest, making sure you're not able to have a say in the position, "It's all for you, Hyung."

He knew the title had an effect on you. You placed your hands on his hips, pushing his crotch down against yours, earning a small whimper from Jungkook. "What do you want me to do to you, baby boy?"

Jungkook swallowed carefully, "Hyung... Can you put your hands above your head?" Jungkook asked.

You gave him a side glance, but you trusted him so you removed your hands from his hips, bringing them up to the position, "Like this, baby?"

Jungkook nodded, a cheeky smile painting his lips as had bought our his secret material from his pocket; a pair of silver handcuffs. "You said you were stressed, so I thought I'd make sure my Hyung feels good tonight."

You were still a little shocked, Jungkook was just always under your mercy, and this side of him was really different, so you didn't really have an idea of what to say.

And it made Jungkook giggle, he snapped the handcuffs around your wrist, making sure it stayed above your head. He leaned down so his lips were next to your ear, whispering with lust dripping from his words, "Please, Hyung," Jungkook moaned, grinding down so you were able to feel how hard he was, "Let me ride your cock, Hyung."

A gasp left your throat, earning an airy giggle from Jungkook. You pulled against the handcuffs, your hips bucking up with Jungkook continuing to grind against you. "Fuck, baby boy," you moaned. Jungkook dragged his nails down your chest, leaning down to place kisses along hour neck, holding himself back from leaving marks.

Jungkook kissed down to the line of your underwear, looking up at you to see you breathing incoherently and your eyes closed, smirking before moving off the bed. 

You locked eyes with him, whining at the loss of contact, but giving him a shocked look when you watch him carefully take off everything else he was wearing, everything except the choker. You felt your boxers getting way too tight inside your underwear, letting out a groan.

You watched Jungkook smirk, he took the lube from the table, placing it on the bed before straddling your hips once again. He began to slowly pull down your underwear, letting your cock out from the fabric, but not taking everything off, just enough to no longer restraint anything important. He licked his lips, looking down at your length, then back up to meet your gaze.

He took two of his fingers into his mouth, sticking his tongue out so you could watch him. Taking a few seconds to coat his fingers with the natural lubricant before leaning down to place small kisses onto the crook of your neck.

He was fingering himself. Oh lord, he had placed two fingers into his ass while all you could do was pull against the handcuffs and listen to him moan. The noises he let out were short and sweet, he wasn't moaning loudly and desperate like when you would prep him, but it was just enough to drive you crazy because you couldn't do anything about it. "Jungkook, " You complained softly, "Jungkook, fuck, don't torture me like this. Let me touch you, c'mon– ah!" He cut you off with your own whine by biting down on the spot right under your collarbone, something he hadn't yet discovered.

Jungkooks moans got louder, the sounds making your cock harder. He was prepping himself to the point he'd added three fingers pushing in and out of his hole, and it took so much of his will power to not make himself orgasm just from his own fingers. He wanted to have you fuck him just about as much as you did. He extracted his fingers with a groan, looking up you with a knowing grin, kissing the pout on your lips, "A bit of patience, Hyung~"

You nodded, desperate and eager, your actions making Jungkook giggle like a school girl. He took a good amount of lube into his hand, carefully letting his hand glide along down your cock. He watched you arch your back as groans left your lips, noting that hed made you wait so long to even be touched properly. He pumped your length from the base to the tip but not letting himself move any faster, liking to watching your breaths get increasingly heavier with how easy his hand slid because of the lube, and it made his own hard dick twitch in anticipation.

Jungkook straddled your hips, placing his hands onto your chest as support while lowering himself on your cock, a loud moan leaving his lips as he did. It made you smirk, Jungkook whined softly, his ass was clenching around you already and he hadn't even put it in halfway. You chuckled, despite not having a lot of authority in the situation, "Aw, is it too big for you? Can't my baby boy take all of my cock?"

There was something about you saying 'my' that turned him on so much. Like he was yours to fuck, yours to touch, yours to hold, yours to kiss, yours to love. His mind was telling him he was reading too much into it, but the reason you specifically said the word wasn't wrong. Part of you wanted Jungkook completely to yourself, wanting to be the only one he thinks in such a romantic way and vice versa; Hell, you literally hated Taehyung at one point, and you still probably would if he wasn't your best friend's brother.

Jungkook pouted at you taunts though, gently scraping his nails down your chest to stop the clenching around your cock, getting himself to relax so he could prove you wrong. Fuck himself hard so it would even get you panting like a dog in heat.

Jungkook was bouncing on your cock. His hands were fisted on your chest into a ball and eyes were closed, but his mouth was open, burrying himself in so deep that the room was being filled with so many moans, whimpers and grunts from the two of you. Everything smelt of pure sex and Jungkook looking like a god with the yellow lighting from the nightstand making his skin look golden and angelic, a layer of sweat glistening as well. Jungkooks hair was perfectly messy with the hair covering his forehead and parts of his eyes. "Hyung, " He cried, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Hyung-!" Jungkook looked so hot like this, his cock was so hard, biting his lip as he threw his head back, the loudest moan coming from him all night leaving his lips, but you couldn't even run your hands on him.

You unintentionally bucked your hips up everytime Jungkook clenched around you. He was doing it on purpose, you knew that, but what was even more frustrating was that he would push your hips back down when you did. Your moans were so messy, and all you could do was watch him do whatever he wanted. "Jungkook, please let me touch you-!" You moaned, your eyes pleading with his, "Please, please, baby boy. Please, oh god, please uncuff me, I need to touch you so bad-"

"You wanna touch me, Hyung?" Jungkook asked, the fabricated innocence mixed with the moan making it so hard for you to concentrate. His pace moved to a roll of his hips, he was so longer riding you like he was chasing an orgasm, but he was slowly grinding on you with his nails digging into your chest, "Wanna fuck me at your own tempo? You're so impatient, Hyung~"

You arched your back ever so slightly with a moan spewing from your lips. He was so good at this, and you hated it. A month and a half seemed to be enough for him to know what you like. Your hips snapped up when Jungkook clenched around you, but he immediately pushed you back down with his hands, giving you a smirk. You pouted, "Jungkook, please."

"Only if–" He started, a his own shattered moan cutting him off as he did, but nonetheless continuing, "–Only if you promise me that you'll take me on a date."

You barely took a second to think, pulling on the cuffs and too fixated on Jungkook clenching around your cock, "I promise–fuck– I'll take you on a date, baby boy."

Jungkook grinded faster, and you felt his thighs clench at your agreement, "Are you just saying that to cum, Hyung? Or do you like me as much as I like you?"

You locked eyes with him, your worn expression had a smirk on it, "Uncuff me and I'll show you how much I like you, baby boy."

Jungkook leaned over carefully, taking the key from under his pillow to bring it to the middle of the headboard where your hands were. Your wrists had a clear contrast from all the pulling, making Jungkook smile a bit. He leaned to unlock the cuffs.

The cuffs were unlocked, but still on your hands when you flipped him over, an unexpected yelp leaving Jungkook as he was now under you. Your hands bouncing his wrists to the sides of his head with a smirk on your lips. "[Y/N]-"

"That's Hyung to you, baby boy." You said, leaning down to place rough kissed along his jaw, making Jungkook moan in delight, "Teasing me like that wasn't smart, baby. Are you even sure you'll be able to walk properly before our date?"

Jungkook whined, letting out an airy chuckle, "Depends. Are you gonna punish me, Hyung?"

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 171 prt 1

171

“Working” beside Pidge, Pidge had borrowed his work phone to download the coding to her computer. Keith reluctant to let the device go, but useless at the tech side of things so could only follow her lead on these kinds of things. Distracted by thoughts of Lance, Keith knew he was being a little pathetic missing his boyfriend who’d only gone to get coffee.

“Dude, you’re breathing in my space”

“Should I hold my breath?”

Keith rolled his chair back, leaning back and poking Pidge with his foot when she sighed at him

“I won’t stop you if you want to”

“Harsh. I’m wounded”

“You’ve spent too much time around Lance... How is Lance?”

Keith saw that sideways less than sneaky misdirect

“He’s been up and down”

“He didn’t seem okay”

“He’s been better. I think he’ll feel better when the summoning is over and we have Curtis back”

“I think we’ll all feel better when that happens. Matt told me what happened”

Of course Matt had

“He was pretty shaken by it, but he doesn’t blame Curtis”

Pidge sighed, turning her chair to him

“Keith, did we do the right thing? Taking him to the house. I saw the look on your face and I don’t know what to think”

“Lance says he doesn’t know if he feels better or not... You... you were key to getting him back. While I was useless”

“You were pretty useless but that’s because you’re a hands on kind of guy. It’s weird... He’s like so much older but he doesn’t act like he used to. Lance used to be so adult. Like, he was taking care of us. He always kept his needs and wants well hidden. I realised how much he spoilt me. How much he went along with me and Hunk. That he protected us and we didn’t even know it. I want to help, but I don’t know where to start”

Keith found himself hugging Pidge who seemed a little confused before hugging him back

“He makes it hard because he’s fiercely independent, but he knows you’re there for him”

“I want to be there for you too”

He didn’t make that exactly easy

“Lance says I’m an anger loaf...”

“He calls me his anger muffin”

“Shiro‘s a croissant from memory. The twins are cupcakes”

“Aren’t they big enough to be baguettes now?”

Drawing away from each other, Keith snorted at Pidge

“I’m not sure. Lance said a rutabaga, but I don’t know what that is”

Pidge turned her nose up, face wrinkled in disgust

“It’s a vegetable. A disgusting vegetable that should be left in the ground”

Keith frowned deeply. His twins were perfect. They weren’t vegetables... and if they were, at least they weren’t broccoli

“Careful there, you’re insulting my kids”

Pidge rolled her eyes, kicking his shin as she did

“Can’t half tell you’re going to be a dad. Which totally reminds me, I’ve ordered you two your baby shower present because you’re both idiots. They should be here in like a few days, then it’ll take a couple of days of tinkering”

“I thought we said we had everything we needed...”

“Nope. You don’t”

Keith didn’t know what the hell they could be missing. The boxes from the furniture still sat in the hallway, with the hallway pretty much full... sooo... how much more could they need or even fit into their house?

“How much more does a baby need?”

“I don��t know? A stroller? Krolia’s getting you car seats... because, you know, you kind of need them. You can’t just drive around with an unsecured baby. I’ve seen your driving”

Oh. Ooooh. Oh. Yeah. They hadn’t thought about the “get the baby home” part of things. Pidge cackled at the look on his face

“See! Shay and Hunk got you something too... Shiro’s been too busy with Curtis so I look the liberty of lifting his credit card. He can thank me later”

Keith was somewhat scared of Pidge’s criminal mind. He’d have to tell Shiro. Keith had no idea when she’d had the chance... unless his brother left his wallet in his locker... Having Shiro and Pidge working together without him there threw him for a loop as he realised

“Have I told you how happy I am that you’re not a bad guy?”

“You have, but feel free to praise me more”

Chuckling at Pidge, he’d missed her. February had been a month where he’d felt just about every moment of it. They’d had very few days where they didn’t have to go somewhere or do something. Now he’d be back at work and his schedule up in the air again

“Lance would tell me off for stroking your ego. We should go see or a movie something while we’re in Platt. You, me, Hunk and Lance”

“That sounds good. When do you start back?”

“When the summoning is over and Shiro’s okay”

“I’ll make a note of it and see when we both have time off. It’s been ages since we went to the movies with Lance”

“It’s been a crazy past few months”

“Amen to that. The guys are taking forever...”

Pidge was cut off as the sound of something booming echoed through the lab. The building seemed to shudder, Keith falling off his chair as he did

“What the fuck was that?!”

“I don’t know!”

That couldn’t be good

“I’ll check the hall”

“I’ll pull up the security feed”

Opening the door, the corridor outside was cut. Thick white walls in place as if they’d always been there. Holy fuck... Keith had never seen it, but the first thing that came to mind was a lockdown

“Ugh, Pidge... We’re locked in”

“Gimme a moment!”

Above him the hallway lights flickered, before bathing the world in red. An alarm sounding. Something had gone wrong with the summoning. It had to have. There was no other reason. Shit! Lance... Hopefully he and Hunk weren’t back yet. He needed to call them, let them know something happened... Fuck. Fuck! He should have been there with Shiro. Shit...

“Keith, get back here!”

Leaving the lab door open, Keith jogged over to Pidge

“What is it?”

“There’s no phone service. I’ve got into the security system. The whole place is in lock down. I’m trying to keep the feed, but I’m being booted as I type. It’s the summoning, isn’t it?”

“It has to be. Coran said it’d take a while, but something must have happened. Is there any way you get me down there?”

“If I can clear the walls I should be able to get you to the elevator”

“Can you lift specific ones? I need to get to my locker”

“I’ll try. Shit, whoever programmed this knew what they’re doing. See if you can find service while I work”

Keith snatched his phone up, despite being issued by the Blades, the top showed no signal. Ignore it, he tried Lance’s normal phone, the call not even ringing before he was back to looking at his boyfriend’s number

“Do you have any weapons in here? I don’t care if they’re experimental, we need to be prepared in case the demon got loose”

“Can’t talk! Have a look!”

Pidge was typing furiously on her keyboard. Keith casting a glance around the lab. There had to be something there. The case. The case Lance had his feet on. It was as good as any place to start.

Opening the case, it contained a modified sniper rifle with a digital connection display. He’d never handled a gun like it before, but he felt better for having his hands on it

“Do you know what this does?”

Pidge didn’t have the luxury of turning to look to the weapon, her fingers moving way too fast

“What’s it look like?”

“A sniper rifle with some kind of display screen”

“That’s up from R and D. It’s supposed to shoot a concentrated beam of UV light, but I haven’t been able to test it yet”

Oookay. Not so handy against a demon, but handy if a hoard of vampires decided to drop by unannounced.

“Fuck! Shit... Keith, you’re going to want to take a look at this!”

Moving beside Pidge, Keith’s heart dropped. Hunk and Lance were in the building... six different feeds were on the screen, Pidge targeting the one that caught her attention, still typing in a seperate black window thing that he had no idea about

“Have we got audio?”

“We’ve barely got this. Shit... Lance doesn’t look good”

Hunched over heavily, Lance was gripping the elevator wall. His other hand on his stomach, but his face wasn’t visible. From his body language, Keith knew something was up. Watching Hunk move to Lance’s side, the pair exchanged words, Hunk checking down the back of Lance’s pants sending him into fresh panic

“We need comms. Can you hack the elevator?”

“Let me work on getting audio up and running”

The building shook again. Which had to be impossible. The place was designed for containment. The amount of power it would take... Pidge was doing all she could, but he needed to get to Lance. Then again, he couldn’t leave Pidge on her own

“Go check the other desks. I need another monitor. See if you can find anything useful”

Her blunt tone was filled with anger. He knew that tone too well, it came from being frustrated. He’d be practically sabotaging her attempts to figure out what was happening if he tried to help.

Following Pidge’s orders, Keith retrieved the monitor for her, plugging it in as she directed. He’d found nothing good on the desks, apart from two ear pieces though was unsure if they’d work. If Pidge could get them going, he could follow her instructions once she’d pulled up the building schematics and worked out how to get these walls down

“Keith, I’ve got audio for the elevator”

“Can they hear us?”

“Not yet. I’ve got to find the programming code in all this junk!”

“Play it”

On the screen Hunk had moved back to Lance’s side. Lance still hunched over. Dread creeping up his throat like a bouquet of rose thorns as his boyfriend’s voice came through

“Fuck... fucking... fuuuuck”

“Just keep breathing”

Lance snapped at Hunk, his face finally visible to the screen. His boyfriend wearing his scary face

“You still can’t reach Keith!?”

“Nope... I can’t get the doors open...”

“Damn... dammity damn”

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“Still pretty far... it’s the lingering pain...”

Contractions... No. No... it was too soon

“Keith...”

“I know. I need to get to Lance”

Pidge panicked hard

“I don’t know how long it’ll take to get the walls up!”

On the screen Lance felt for Hunk’s hand, grabbing it in his before falling against their friend

“Hunk...”

“I’ve got you, man. I’ve got you. Here, you should sit...”

“If I get the doors open... you... have to go for help...”

“I’m not about to leave you”

“The summonings gone wrong... I can feel it! My ego... my ego is mad..”

“Lance...”

“Please... please... I don’t want to hurt you”

Keith’s heart was racing. Things had... How could... What the...

“What do I do?”

“Can you get the doors open?”

“Not without risking dropping the elevator. It’s on its own system. Coran must have designed it for containment... to protect staff if something bad came”

Keith heard himself snap

“Something bad has come! There’s a fucking demon and Lance is losing the twins!”

“Don’t yell at me! I’m working as fast as I can!”

He deserved that.

“Hunk, I’m going to open the doors... I don’t know how long I can keep them open, if I push you through, you should make it okay...”

“I’m not leaving”

“You have to! I can’t protect you like this!”

“I...”

“Hunk, you’re strong. You’re strong and I know you can do this. Find a landline”

“There has to be...”

“I’m not leaving you. We’ll get the doors open and we’ll go together. If we can’t go out the doors then... then we’ll go through the hatch!”

“You don’t understand... I feel it... the demons aura... it won’t stop at just destroying this place... I can’t let it hurt you”

“Stop being stubborn! We’ll work this out!”

Lance broke down into sobs as he clung to Hunk

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, Bud. But you need to calm down for me...”

“I need Keith...”

“I know. We’ll work it out. How do we get the doors open”

“I’ll pry them open. We can’t... be the only ones trapped...”

Lance brought up a good point. Dozens of people worked behind the scenes. They’d probably had training in what to do during a lock down, if Coran had remembered to tell them

“I’m on it. I can’t get a visual on the floor where Shiro is... He’ll be okay, won’t he?”

“Yeah. Yeah. If the demon wanted to hurt him, it’s had its chance...”

Plus Coran and Allura were there. Keith couldn’t help but feel if Pidge concentrated on just one project they’d be making more progress, but he wasn’t the one who made the tech side of things happen so had no right to boss her around.

It was an anxious wait. Keith didn’t take his eyes off Lance. Whatever he was feeling had upset his ego. Hunk was in a dangerous situation. Lance was likely to lose it if his ego thought Keith was in danger

“Okay. I’ve stopped the coding for the lockdown. And I’ve sent a virus through the system. It’ll concentrate on that, giving me time to do what I need to get the elevator comms on”

“Do it”

“I am. Fuck, when this is over, I’m doing to punch whoever coded this in the dick. These encryptions are no joke. Thankfully I’ve got more access than I should after what happened with Sendak. Coran hasn’t changed his passwords”

Coran would have changed the access if it hadn’t been Pidge. They were all proud of her, slightly scared of her, but she had her heart in the right place. She’d amazing all of them with finely honed skills. Keith seeing all the good in her that Lance bragged about

“He trusts you. Lance has been bragging about how smart you are for years”

“He does that...”

“He’ll be okay”

“I should be saying that to you”

“I have to believe he’ll be okay. He has to be. If his ego is upset, that could be... that could be stressing the twins. He can’t be in labour”

“Keith”

“He can’t be. He’s done everything he’s supposed to. How long until we get comms?”

Pidge swallowed hard, both she and Keith knew they were hoping too much for things to work out unnaturally smoothly

“A little while. It’s not like in the movies. I have figure all this out on the go”

“You can do it. I know you can”

*

Lance focused on his breathing. Slowly In and slowly out. His ego was getting madder by the minute. The foul black aura felt more and more sinister. Like the evil was creeping up the elevator shaft. He’d cried until his ego riled up. His tears drying up as he struggled to keep breathing. His priority was Hunk. He had to protect Hunk. And protect him from himself. His nails had grown out, the doors looking pretty damn tempting. But he was trying his hardest not to lose it at the situation.

“Guys?! Guys, can you hear us?!”

Lance jumped at the sound of Pidge’s unexpected voice. Hunk scrambled off the floor, rushing to the intercom that hadn’t been working so far

“Pidge?!”

“Hunk! Oh my god! Are you guys okay?!”

“I’m okay! But Lance... Pidge, is Keith there?”

“I’m here, Hunk. We’ve got you guys on screen. Lance, I see you”

Keith wasn’t hurt. Keith was with Pidge. His ego relieved. The darkness hadn’t swallowed Keith

“Keith, Lance is having cramps”

“We know. Coran’s got audio in there. It took a little bit to get it up on this end. We can’t get to you guys. They’ve dropped these walls in place... We can probably go up through the vents, can you guys get into the vents?”

Lance mentally sighed at his boyfriend. Like his pregnant arse was going to fit in any vent

“Don’t bother with the vents. Are you guys still in Pidge’s lab?”

“Lance, you need to speak up!”

He wasn’t speaking up? Hunk passed his question on

“He asked if you guys are still in Pidge’s lab”

“Yeah. Pidge is doing tech stuff”

“Don’t suppose she can get these doors open?”

“She doesn’t want to risk dropping the elevator. Lance, she says don’t touch the doors until she sees the emergency stop coding”

Fucking great. Trapped in a metal box dangled over a demon...

“Keith, the summoning went wrong. I felt a wave of this... this darkness. Stay where you are”

“I’m not going anywhere until Pidge gets the lockdown reversed”

“Babe, listen to me. If the summoning went wrong, there are three demons down there. You can’t take on three demons alone. Pidge, focus on the elevator. I need to get Hunk out of here safely. Coran has stairs all over this place. He wouldn’t trap his workers without a way for staff to evacuate safely. Have you got eyes on the bottom level?”

“No, Lance. Are you okay? We saw what happened...”

“It’s the summoning... We need to get out of here in case we need to drop the elevator”

Lance wasn’t giving up on his friends. He couldn’t give up on them. If the demon was lose, they needed to limit the ways it could escape. Had Hunk not been with him, he could have popped open the hatch and checked his options. Not that he was risking himself or his pregnancy, he could take full responsibility for his actions when he only had himself to consider. Rubbing his tender belly, he would have headed for help for them first, because that’s what Keith would want. The labs were some of the safest places in VOLTRON. They had to be. The technology there was sensitive and secretive. They couldn’t have a rampaging werewolf armed with tech. A vampire with a gun... actually, the vampire could do more damage without it.

[mother-snake]

the grims wish

(the next series im writting!!! and its got a first chapter! also should i bring my oc’s into this??) tags: @idkanameatall

next: n/a warnings: swaring

- janus is a magician. he has been since he was nine. and recently, things have been changing... its up to him and several others to fix whats gone wrong

Chapter 1- it was a stormy day

there were once skies filled with wonderful things. Birds, bugs, planes and clouds. the earth had people walking the streets getting to work. Some would ride bikes and others drive via car, bus or taxi. the planet filled with beautiful stones and flourished green everywhere.

Now things were changing. Ever since the lunar eclipse almost 100 years ago now. Things changed. the eclipse lasted for an entire day, and when it had stopped… two suns were in the sky. One shining bright and the other barely duller.

The people of the planet changed. Some could transform into wild animals; others couldn’t walk in the light. Some could manipulate the elements with spells. very few people had changed however. Most people stayed the same. And that meant the fear of the unknown would resurface. Those who had changed learned to adapt to the less forgiving.

Some would band together and try and find a place to fit in. some did, others couldn’t. starving of hunger or dying from the harsh winters.

I was one of the less fortunate. After I had turned 18 id been kicked out of my home with sunny by my side. sunny was my familiar. Looking like a boa constrictor but almost ghostly. You could see through her yellow shinny body. But her black eyes could pierce through your own skin.

Right now, she was wrapped around me like a thick warm scarf. Trying her best to provide me some warmth as the rain thundered down onto the ground. I was already soaked to the bone and an icy feeling had already set into my bones.

I looked around the streets, vision being blurred by the rain that poured relentlessly.

I pushed myself of the ground where I sat. there was no place open for me to sit in. and if there was, they didn’t take too kindly to magicians. that’s what I hated about coming back here. but there wasn’t anywhere else to travel to.

I grumbled as my hood fell down. Exposing my already wet hair to the rain. At least with it up I could contain some warmth. I didn’t bother to put it back up. there was no point in doing so.

I let out a huff. My feet made barely any noise as I made my way down the street. If there was one place, I could go it was the train station. But even then, I was cutting it close.

A loud bark cut me out of my thoughts as I felt something grab the hood of my jacket and tug me backwards as a car raced in front of my vision.

Whatever was holding onto me let go and I swivelled on my heel to face it. my eyes locked onto a black dog. It stood up to my height. Its glowing indigo eyes alerted me to the fact it wasn’t human. it glanced to my neck and looked curiously at my familiar.

“thanksss,” sunny hissed to the dog who barked back in response.

It nodded to me and soon a bright blue light swarmed where it stood. Shifting to the form of a human. A tall one at that. “sorry for the scare,” they said.

He wore a black suit. A blue stripped tie matched his animal’s eyes. a black umbrella was raised in the air, protecting him from the rain. A small part of me was jealous. Another part slightly ready to turn tail and run.

“come, we should get out of the rain, I have a feeling it won’t let up any time soon,” he said as he held out a hand. sunny turned her head to look at me and gave a small nod. Well if she could trust him. So could I.

I took his hand and was pulled under the umbrella. It wasn’t much. but it was nice to not have rain pouring over me. we walked silently next to each other. Not saying a single word. I hunched myself over. My overgrown hair covering the left side of my face. something I was thankful he couldn’t see.

“so,” he said, “may I ask for your name?” “Janus, and you?” “Logan berry. It’s a pleasure Janus,” he said loudly, trying to talk over the rai.

We turned a corner. I chuckled as I realised the school I’d gone to so long ago was still around. It was by no means small. It stood proudly in the storm. A small part of me felt my spine shiver. As if something from inside was looking into my soul.

Then before I knew it was out of vision.

 It was around ten minuets later that we arrived to a very posh looking set of apartments. Definitely not new. I recognised them.

Soon we were inside one. A deep red door with the numbers 24 plastered on neatly. Logan opened the door and ushered me inside. It was a lot different than I had imagined. The entrance hall had several doors lined up on either side. A couple were open.

“hey Logan its good to-“ a voice called. the figure at the end of the hall stood stunned upon seeing me, his eyes going wide upon seeing sunny. “oh my, Logan can you grab a towel for the poor soul?” he said.

Logan gave a sharp nod before patting my arm as if saying ‘good luck’. I let a weak smile on my face as I made my way forwards as he ushered me further in. warmth seeped into my bones. Something I had been very thankful for. Almost relaxing as it hit my skin. sunny let out a content hiss as well. I’m not really sure if it was because she was warm or if it was because she knew I was. a mini mother snake is what she was… and I was perfectly fine with that.

“my names Patton, you’re more than welcome to stay here to wait out the storm he said as he ruffled my wet hair. he let out a chuckle, making his way out of view.

Thankfully Logan chose that moment to walk in. a towel in hand and some other things. “I brought you a change of clothes, I have a feeling those cant be very comfortable nor hygienic right now,” he said, “the bathroom is down the hall. Second door to the right.

I stood there stunned. My mind seemingly frozen. “I think you broke my human,” sunny hissed over to Logan as she looked at me with a smirk.

“I never asked for your name, my apologies,” Logan said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “sssummer, but my human callsss me sssunny,” she said.

I shook my head, snapping out of my thoughts, “are you certain? I don’t want to intrude,” I muttered. “it’s quite all right Janus. I know what its like being out there. To be honest you look like you need a place to stay for tonight. So, might as well get comfy.”

I nodded and made my way to the bathroom. so…Patton and Logan hu? Were they now my friends?

I’m not surprised at Logan knowing what its like to be on the streets for so long. He looked at least two years older than me. His skin was a pale white, black ebony hair seemed to contrast his skin. and sky-blue eyes that could melt the iciest of hearts.

A small flush of the cheeks was all it took for me to take the things he was holding and make my way into the hall. the bathroom hadn’t been hard to miss. Going in had made me chuckle. Several shelves on the walls held rubber ducks. Multi coloured and wearing clothing of famous figures.

I couldn’t resist the smile that slipped onto my face.

 I was out of the room within five minutes. My hair was still slightly damp, but at least not dripping onto my back.  I pulled it back into a ponytail. But kept the left half covered by my hair.

I took a deep breath. All my damp clothes were shoved into my previously empty backpack. I picked it up and opened the door. Laughter rung in my ears. But it was familiar. One I hadn’t heard in years.

I could feel both mine and sunny’s excitement flooding us all at once. I made my way forwards and peaked my hear around the corner and let a grin cover my face.

“ah! There you are kiddo,” Patton said excitedly, grabbing my hand and dragging me in.

“holy shit,” moustache said, “dude, how the fuck are you still alive?!” the strangers in the room seemed startled for a couple seconds. “Remus, I haven’t an idea,” I said as we brought each other into a hug.

“seven fucking years Jannie. Seven fucking years,” he muttered as he held on tighter. “eh, could’ve been longer,” I looked over Remus’s shoulder to see his gobsmacked twin, “hello roman.”

“wait, you two know Janus?” Patton said stunned “hell yeah!” Remus exclaimed, “we went to the same school.”

“well anyways, have time to talk,” Patton said, “dinners in the oven and id like to get to know our guest,”

And that’s how the evening went. I answered their questions. Mainly the twins spitting them out rapid fire. there were plenty of laughs as I told them about everywhere id been. They had seemed genuinely surprised that I had been everywhere it seemed. With the limits of being in the uk, it was much easier to travel around than if I were to be in America. I would most likely still be roaming thinking about it.

 Time passed quicker than I’d realised. Soon the rain had stopped pouring from the sky. Instead replaced by an inky black sky. Clouds seemed to cover the sky as I looked out the window.

Sunny shimmered back into view from her invisible cloaking on the window ledge. “he hassn’t changed, hasss he?” she hissed out. “ha, indeed,” I muttered back, letting out a yawn.

There was a knock on the main door. I snapped out of my thoughts as I heard someone open the door and slam it behind themselves. “hey guys!” oh god… this wouldn’t go down well… “hey Virgil, we have a guest for today so be polite okay,” Patton called out.

When Virgil entered the Livingroom, basically commons for them. He froze as he saw me sitting by the window. “oh for fuck’s sake, why are you here?” he groaned. “trust me, ill be out of your hair soon enough Virgil. I promise,” I sighed, “I already feel like I’m intruding.”

He gave me a pat on the back and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small clip. he reached up to my face and pulled my hair out of my face, clipping it back with a spider hairclip. “you will have shitty vision if you keep covering that side you know?

I sighed, there was no point on letting my hair fall back into place. From memory Virgil seemed to have hair and bobby pins all over himself. There was no hiding from the onslaught of hair accessories.

“so… what you been doing these past three years then?” he asked nervously.

I chuckled and began to recount all I’d previously told the others. it had been a while since he had felt welcome anywhere. And here in this small pack of monsters and humans… he hadn’t felt at home ever more than now.

[caligobeltrao]

I for one would love 2 hear ur thoughts on the hannibal novel 👀👀 - bloodybrahms ☺

ahhh thank you BB!! <3 I’m gonna throw it under a cut bc I know people aren’t gonna want my ramblings clogging up their dash lol. 

Edit after I’ve written it: Holy shit this turned into a monster but tbf I did say I was going to rant. I think I miss writing college essays...

Also, I would like to note bc I’m about to bitch, I do still love Hannibal and Clarice and all of the franchise. Hell, I even love book Hannibal because I’m garbage and want to be special. So yeah. It’s a fond bitching. 

Okay where to fuckin begin man... This novel was a fucking Shit Show, my dudes. It was like baby’s first fanfiction. 

Let’s just jump in, shall we? 

So by now, having read both Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs, I know Harris injects of lot of sexual shit into his novels, fine whatever, but the amount of pedophilia is insane. Like, Red Dragon with the grandmother threatening to cut his dick off by holding it in between scissors????? And then we have Mason Verger, worst human on the planet. Like jfc I’ll go into him specifically more later but just. Men. Why does it always have to be sexual. 

Like that time Clarice wasn’t wearing a bra and she wanted to prove to Paul Krendler she wasn’t wearing a wire so she flashed him her tits?? Unnecessary, Harris. Bullshit on all counts. 

Next, poor Ardelia Mapp. So he clearly wrote out her accent in Silence, which frankly reads racist since to me it seemed like he did it every time a character of color was met but he didn’t for Clarice’s Southern accent except for this book when she was talking to Ardelia. Now, that’d be a cool way to show how close they are, sure, but it just... She didn’t show up enough to warrant that reaction from me, plus all the other casually racist shit he throws in. 

Ardelia’s literally there as the wise Black best friend to help Clarice along. She doesn’t feel like her own character, she’s only there in conjunction with her, or doing something for her. She was the fucking valedictorian for Christ fucking sake, she also works at the Bureau but if her department was mentioned it was only once in passing. She was not a full character which fucking blows because she could’ve been so cool. 

And real quick before I forget, I hate how she’s treated in the end. I do like she gets a reference and that brainwashed Clarice sent her an emerald ring and a note saying she was okay, but Ardelia was abandoned by her best friend (that she had lived with) with not even a phone call and they will never see each other again and I think Ardelia knows it. It sucks and I’m heartbroken for this woman. 

I’m gonna touch a little bit on the racism too. Now I’m white and not the most qualified to talk about this shit, but I do wanna mention it because it makes me mad. There’s just so many unnecessary slurs, any POC is more of a background helper character to Clarice than anything or a foil. 

For example, Evelda Drumgo. She starts us off. Badass Black woman who runs a drug cartel. She chooses to shoot at Clarice and risk her baby’s life, and we have Clarice wash the baby off and save his life. Then Evelda’s mother is written as irrational when she slaps Clarice for visiting the baby in the hospital; I get Clarice’s impulse, but that woman just lost her daughter because Clarice killed her. I would’ve slapped Clarice too, even if it was a totally justifiable shot. 

The baby himself is used as a foil throughout other parts, most notably to me when Clarice goes to visit Mason the first time. There are two Black boys from a foster home playing in a room with a camera so Mason can watch them, and it shakes Clarice up a lil bit because of the baby, but it says she’s getting more used to it.

Now this is half and half well written and shoddy to me. It’d be a cool moment, if the whole incident wasn’t nearly completely forgotten for the rest of the book shortly afterword. It could show growth, if Clarice had any growth to show. 

And then the Romani people who are literally just used and thrown away. Sickening. Also very broadly used the stereotypes we hear which Sucks; the three we meet in any sort of depth are pickpockets, one was already in jail and Pazzi used his leverage as a police officer to get her to do what he wanted and threatened to have her baby taken away from her permanently, like it was just bad. And then the man got killed. Pazzi let him bleed out. Asshole. 

The slurs. I could take out all of them and pretty much have the same damn thing. Like I get showing negative aspects of characters and just because a character’s racist doesn’t mean the author is, but with the characters already being as shitty as they are, fully didn’t need it to make them worse. Entirely unnecessary. Racism or the character being racist has no impact on the plot is the major thing, I think. And you can replace that with anything along those lines, like sexist, homophobic, transphobic. It didn’t impact the plot, they can still be shitty, you just don’t need to use them. 

This also goes in reference to Margot being a lesbian. And the transphobia holy shit, it was disgusting. Harris had Clarice think something so cruel and unnecessary it’s like my guy why was that even remotely something we needed to hear. We didn’t. I wanted to stop reading because that’s not my Clarice, first and foremost, and second, this is supposed to be the character we LIKE. And now I don’t like ANYBODY in this damn book. 

And he treats Margot like shit too, and Barney. 

Their friendship was beautiful and great and finally for once something nice was happening in Margot’s life and I was happy reading it, and then FOR SOME REASON Margot goes to shower in the same room as Barney after a workout, which makes no sense, and then Barney tries to force a kiss on her (and he was hard, Harris made that very clear) and she had been sexually assaulted by Mason her brother and ruin the whole damn thing and none of it would have changed any other piece of the novel if you removed it!!!!!!!!! Entirely unnecessary!!!!!! And Barney had the gall to say well I couldn’t help myself like none of that was realistic in the slightest, she never would have went in the same room to shower with him. 

Something you need to do is basically get some suspension of disbelief from your reader and maintain and stretch that as you go, right? Well mine was gone at that moment.

Also side note Margot is basically just there to show how shitty Mason is for the umpteenth time. Her whole thing is lesbian sexual assault victim.

Also heavily implied she was a lesbian because of the sexual assault. And we rarely see Judy, her girlfriend, so. Bad. Bad all around. 

Circling back around to Clarice and how disappointing she is in the books as compared to the movies. Well, Clarice is also a poorly written character. She’s 1000x better in the movie. Hell, she’s even better in this book than she was in Silence, but that’s not fucking hard. 

Pretty much all the characters are so flat they don’t even classify as two dimensional. 

Like sure, maybe we wanna say Clarice didn’t really solve much in the first book and was just handed everything because she was a trainee and that’s what Hannibal wanted. 

Like if you remember the John Mulaney sketch of Delta Airlines where he’s just going “Okay!” and running to the next place he’s told, that’s Clarice. 

Okay so why does she get goaded into all this shit now? She should know better. She should know how to handle herself better. Like she messes up basic fucking shit like clearing a room before untying Hannibal, which was stupid, she seems oblivious to some of the politics at work even though she’s been in the FBI for like 7 years now, she would at least have more fucking contacts than Brigham who died in the beginning and Jack Crawford who died at the end by rolling over in his bed to his dead wife’s side and Ardelia who would be near the same level as Clarice I guess but I still don’t know her damn department???? Like you fucking network. 

Plus after her final fall from grace with the FBI, we meet or are told of random side characters that go no where and do nothing just to say “hey look at my special little girl, everyone likes her and looks up to her!!” Why? Because she caught Buffalo Bill 7 years ago and then never got a promotion or even worked with the BAU? Again, it does not make sense. People may pity her? But a random girl in the lab wouldn’t be fangirling. Starling herself said her career had gone nowhere because of the politics and not sleeping with Paul. You need to show me why she’s likable in her actions not others words. 

We spend more time away from her than with her anyways but Jesus. 

AND HER IN THE ENDING. She was fucking BRAINWASHED????? Bull FUCKING SHIT. He completely ruined anything he even remotely might’ve had in this cluster fuck of a novel. 

Case in point, difference from the movie, Hannibal spends weeks (possibly? it’s left purposefully vague and I’m guessing that’s because Harris didn’t know the ins and outs and wanted his novel done) meticulously brainwashing Clarice, he had stolen her father’s bones and she’s so far gone at that point she doesn’t care, and the whole scene where Paul is getting his brain eaten? Yeah, she happily indulges and when he insults her, she asks Hannibal for more. Fuck you, Thomas Harris. 

And Hannibal’s a Gary Stu, fucking fight me. 

In the movie he either is or he’s tap dancing on that line, don’t get me wrong, but in the novels it’s insufferable because it doesn’t seem earned. The pigs didn’t attack him because they didn’t smell fear on him. No. He’s easily able to drug and brainwash Clarice and take her as his lover. No. Go away. He’s so smart and one step ahead and can manipulate anyone and everyone into doing what he wants and blah blah blah shut up! A character being perfect isn’t interesting even if he’s evil!! We all know he’s never truly in danger because of how Harris writes him and that’s boring!! 

And I personally have a pet peeve where the villain is described as a monster or unstoppable. That’s boring and I no longer care about your story. I know 9 times out of 10 your main character is going to find a bullshit way around the impossible and kill it. Or it’s just like a default personality and nothing else is added to it. And that’s Hannibal. 

I’m on Hannibal Rising now and, spoiler alert, he’s very bland as a character. (Also Harris switched some details in the novel which kinda annoys me like get your own canon right my man but whatever.) The plot itself is pretty fun? I guess? Like there’s action and stuff and I’m enjoying that. But it’s the same set up where Harris’s Gary Stu always wins, like he was 13 in the book when he killed the butcher. Let. Your. Characters. Lose. 

Also even more racist shit but what did I expect really. 

Anyways, I have no idea who I’m supposed to root for in the novel because all the characters are just kinda shitty. It really just boils down to Harris not showing any redeeming qualities or actions from any of his characters. I liked Margot for a while out of spite but she never really went anywhere and the way she killed Mason (btw she sodomized him with a cattle prod to get his semen bc side plot and then stuffed his Moray eel down his throat and somehow I still don’t think that’s the worst part of the novel) just. No thanks really. 

All the random little side plots were also pretty not great. How many time does Harris have to say Pazzi of the Pazzis? Like I fucking get what you’re going for, even if I hadn’t watched the movie I’d be like, “Oh this dude’s gonna get hung outta that window, dope,” the literal first time. Stop treating your readers like idiots. 

And then Margot’s side plot was that the will their father left said she needed a biological heir to inherit because he was pissed she’s gay and we needed the homophobia I guess, so Mason got everything, and she was helping him with the Hannibal shit because he’s pretty incapacitated duh, and in return he would give her his jizz so Judy could be artificially inseminated and they could have a child and get some of her inheritance. I don’t care. It was all very gross, and Mason kept saying shit like suck me off you’ve done it before, I won’t be able to feel it anyway, maybe Judy’ll suck me off you think she’d like that. It’s all gross. 

And I guess this is a good a time as any to finally start on Mason. So a great rule of writing to make everything work better and give your story more depth is to give everyone both positive and negative traits right, even and especially the bad guys? Like, rules can always be broken if you’re a good enough writer, but I believe I have established that Harris isn’t quite there yet, to put it nicer than I have. 

Mason is one bad trait after another. It’s like when Harris was bored of constantly writing about plain ole pedophilia, he threw a dart at a board of horrible things and landed on topics such as: pedophilia but make it incest, extreme sadism, sadism but against children now, and good old fashioned racism! Fucking Cordell was supposed to collect the children’s tears after Mason would make them cry and put them in martinis for him. Realism went out the goddamn door real fast with this novel y’all. Like a fucking Scooby Doo villain over here. 

And he loves talking about being a sadistic pedophile, he will literally not shut up about it to Clarice when she first gets there telling her about his trip to Africa and this portable guillotine he has and just. I get it was probably like trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose because he’s a Freak, but it went way too far if only because it was annoying, not even uncomfortable for me as a reader. I was bored real quick. Get to the shit I actually wanna know. 

And it sucks because of the weird, over-the-top way of how he died, I got zero satisfaction from his death. I couldn’t even be like, “Well at least Margot got her revenge,” because that’s not how she originally wanted to kill him!!! She wanted someone else to extract his semen for the insemination but couldn’t find anybody to do it for her, and then Hannibal, whilst tied up, said use a cattle prod and you won’t have to touch him and when you kill him you can blame it on me, and I’m pretty sure even if she hit his prostate right every time and he COULD cum from that alone in addition to how his body is Fucked Up now, it would’ve been a lengthy, gross, and re-traumatizing experience for her because all she wanted to do was avoid seeing and touching her brother’s private parts again, which I think is a totally fair and rational desire. 

So I have to live with the fact that she was desperate enough to not lose the house and business because of her homophobic father to go through her childhood trauma again. There’s no place in this book that has a somewhat positive conclusion. 

Even the very last bit where Barney has a girlfriend and a ton of cash from Margot, all he wants to do is see every Vermeer in the world right? Well, because Hannibal and Clarice are in Buenos Aires where one of them is on display, Barney gets spooked and has him and his girlfriend leave before he can see it and it ends that bit with he never got to see it ever so he didn’t even complete his dream!!! 

Also for good measure, Harris throws in that Hannibal and Clarice enjoy having sex regularly. For no reason. Just letting us know. 

I know this seemed like just a bitch fest, because it was, but I kinda sorta enjoyed it? It kept my attention at the very least. It’s really disappointing because like I said, I love the movies, all of them, and have since I was little. To see the original not stand up to that image in my mind is a little heartbreaking. Especially Clarice. She was a strong female role model to me, but turns out she’s... just kinda there. And her ending is that of her no longer being herself and getting that agency taken away from her. 

There is a reference to her waking up from a sleep, if she is asleep (that’s kind of how he worded it), that kinda let us draw our conclusions on whether she was just brainwashed into being good for him or if she was willingly going along with this and was in love with him I guess and it felt like a slap in the face. She turned from a hardworking, modest country girl working her way up to the FBI into a female Hannibal. Which on the surface sounds kinda cool because we love luxe serial killers, but that’s not what she wanted or who she was set up to be. And to insinuate that she would even remotely consider choosing that path for herself is at its best an insult to her and at its worst a complete erasure of her background, what little character Harris did set up. It also completely erases my own connections to her, as a girl from a small town myself who has bigger dreams than this and also... a good, strong set of morals. He just tossed that out the window. 

Obviously if you’re on this blog, you like slasher x reader shit, and this is a novel with a slasher x a person, right? So why am I so mad about it? Because the whole point of this blog and reader insert fanfiction in general is that you are taken as you are and loved wholly as yourself and that you are worthy of that love (in a fictional setting, not really loving people who are like this, which I think we understand but I want to clarify). She was not taken as she was. He is not in love with her, she is not in love with him. She was transformed into what he wanted out of her. He couldn’t get her to be Mischa, his first plan, so he made her like himself. And the fact that he was so easily able to do it makes me upset, and even more so is that it’s not written like it’s weird or wrong. It’s written like they’re in love and this is a good thing. 

He may have been going for the classic “everyone is capable of doing bad things” stuff we see a lot, but we got that from Margot already. And Barney, for stealing Lecter’s stuff and selling it. And Paul, and the entire FBI for turning on Clarice, and the kidnappers, and Pazzi, and random shitty side characters. And none of it was particularly well written or made some sort of strong statement. It just was. And that’s not a good enough basis for a novel. 

Anyways, if you made it this far holy shit you’re a saint and I love you, let’s be friends?? <3 Have a good day y’all, thank you BB for giving me permission to ramble. 

[going-dead]

A Bit of Space

@phantomsnfae Happy Christmas truce! I wanted to post this either on Christmas or new years but it wasn’t finished by Christmas so happy new decade! You asked for astronaut Danny so here it is! I threw in a dash of Grey Ghost for you as well!

____________________________________

“Danny you need to calm down.” Valerie chided trying to calm her boyfriend down over the phone.

Danny tapped his fingers on his leg. “I can’t calm down Val! What if I mess something up? It’s already a miracle that I got a job at NASA, but to pass the training and be selected to be part of the astronaut program? I can’t mess this up.”

Danny could hear Valerie roll her eyes. “How could you mess this up? You’ve already died once anything else should pale in comparison.”

“First off ouch. Secondly what if I can’t handle small spaces? Or freak out in zero gravity? What if I don’t know enough and I don’t get admitted, or I’m not fit enough?” He worried.

Valerie gave a small sigh. “You really are dumb aren’t you? How many times have you been trapped in your own thermos, and you can fly. You’ve been studying for ages and after six years of fighting ghosts on an almost weekly basis I don’t think you have to worry about being fit enough, maybe too fit though. You will be fine” 

Danny had to agree with that logic, but it didn’t do much to calm him down. He gave a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. He was on a lunch break at the moment and the pause between the testing and training was allowing him to start worrying again. He took a deep breath and headed back into the fray. Now that the break was over it was time for the practical portion. 

The person observing him for testing, Anne, waved him over. Standing next to her was a man Danny didn’t recognize. “Johnathan this is Daniel, Daniel this is Johnathan you two will be partnering for this next portion.”

Johnathan reached his hand out and Danny took it. “You can just call me John, I’m assuming you go by Dan?” 

Danny flinched at the name but quickly replaced it with a smile. It may have been years ago, but the memories of his alternate future self still haunted him at times. “Actually Danny is fine. Nice to meet you John.” 

Anne lead the two over to what looked like a small medical station. “Now before we begin we’re going to give you a small physical. Nothing big don’t worry just to get baselines and make sure nothing is wrong before we start.” She motioned for Danny first. 

Danny sat down in the chair provided, suddenly wondering when he last had a physical that wasn’t from a doctor who he could explain his abnormalities off  as simply the long term effect of living with ghost biologists. Because he was pretty sure, despite being a government agency, NASA wasn’t in the know about the paranormal. So thinking back it was never, he had never been to a doctor outside of Amity Park. Looked like it was time to panic again.

The doctor who Danny didn’t get the name of and wasn’t wearing a name tag, or maybe she was but Danny was too busy panicking to notice, put an automatic blood pressure cuff on his arm. She looked at the screen brows furrowed and tried again. “Hmm weird, must be acting up. No worries we’ll just do it manually.” Danny at this point was now really panicking. She took his vitals again and looked more satisfied. “Blood pressure and pulse are a bit on the lower end but that’s probably partially due to you being smaller.” 

Danny sighed internally, of course his pulse when he is on the verge of a panic attack would be a below average rate for a normal person. When she took his temperature he focused all his power on dampening his core as much as possible. Thankfully the rest of his physical, and all of John’s went smoothly. Finally it was time to start. Anne lead them to a medium sized chamber. Danny recognized it instantly, it was an invention his parents made a few years back trying to recreate a ghosts flight ability. They never were able to control the direction the floated in or stop at will effectively just making a zero gravity chamber, so they scrapped it. Apparently the word got out and NASA picked it up. 

Danny and John entered the chamber ropes wrapped around both their waists. Anne’s voice came over the intercom and let them know she was turning on the machine. Soon enough the two were floating. It was definitely different from flying, but easy enough to adapt around. It did take a decent amount of willpower to not use flight to move around, his mind convinced that he was floating willingly. Danny pushed off the walls laughing, it was fun not being in control of exactly where he would float. He looked over to John who wasn’t fairing as well as Danny. He was currently upside down flailing around trying to get to a wall. Danny braced himself against a wall and pushed off to go help the other man. 

It was over all too soon for Danny. When he left the chamber Anne looked at him impressed. “You handled that quite well, most candidates have a similar experience as John did.” She laughed. Danny smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t be able to reasonably explain how he was calm with complete weightlessness. 

When Anne started leading them to the next task John walked up to Danny. “I was fine I did not need your help.” He growled.

Danny was a bit taken aback. “Woah dude calm down, I was just trying to help. You looked like you were struggling a bit. Plus you heard Anne, most people react like you did.” John just scoffed and sped past him, bumping his shoulder as he did. Danny rolled his eyes, and here he thought he’d be done with bullies after high school. 

They arrived at a model of a rocket cabin. Anne explained that they’ll be sitting in it for a few hours to see how well they respond to both the small space and the fake simulations she’ll be running. 

“Wait how long will be in in there exactly though?” John asked looking the cabin up and down.

“Depends on how well you do.” She answered ushering them in. They strapped themselves into the seats and braced themselves for what was to come. Looking around it was definitely a bit cramped, but he could shift around so it was a million times better than being in the thermos. They ran through a few scenarios, like what take off would be like. Both men fared well. 

Anne let them out after a while with an approving hum. “Good job you two. That's all for today, I’ll see you both again tomorrow for the rest of your evaluation.” She bid them farewell. She looked down at her phone and furrowed her brow. “Actually Danny do you mind staying for a bit longer?” 

Danny nodded his head hanging back. Anne lead him back to where the doctor from earlier was. She looked up from her clipboard and smiled. “Welcome back Mr. Fenton. I was just looking at your chart and was wondering if we could double check some things?”

Danny tensed up but nodded. “Uh yeah sure, everything alright?” He asked as another doctor walked in with a cart. 

“Yes of course we just noticed a few odd things with your results. I’d feel better with a second opinion on.” She gave a smile as the new doctor came over and shone a light in his eyes. 

“Ah hey!” Danny yelled blinking his eyes rapidly. 

The new doctor at least looked a bit sorry. He gave a warning before shining the light into Danny’s eyes again. He placed a stethoscope over Danny’s chest, and also tested his reflexes. “Mr. Fenton do you happen to have any medical history we should know about? Or perhaps anything that runs in your family by chance?”

“Uh no?” Danny looked over at Anne who was now looking at his chart with wide eyes. 

The doctor looked almost disappointed in him, before the three of them sent him off. Leaving Danny feel anxious and paranoid. 

The incident was never brought up again. A while after all this started, Danny was finally in space. He had just arrived in the space station a few days earlier along with John. He had gotten acquainted with the rest of the crew and was currently eating lunch. Suddenly the space station shuddered and alarms started to blare. Danny and the other five crew members looked at each other before another shudder. 

A loud voice blared through the speakers. “HAHAHA! I TECHNUS HAVE TAKEN OVER THE SPACE STATION! FROM HERE I WILL BE ABLE TO RULE THE COSMOS!” Danny was going to scream. It had been months since he’d had to deal with a ghost at all, and now he had to deal with one not only in space but one who could take control of the life support? Not to mention in a space where he would not be able go ghost in privet. 

The lights flickered, he sighed. He at least hoped he’d get out of this without being captured and experimented on, he knew he’d be out of a job at least. He gave one last look at his cremates. “In advance, sorry. Please don’t try to kill me.” He took a calming breath and reminded himself to not re-kill Technus. “I’m going ghost!” He yelled out as two white rings bisected him, replacing clothes with a black and white hazmat suit, blue eyes with toxic green, and black hair with glowing white. 

He flew through the wall of the station out into open space. “Hey Technus! Mind giving me a bit of space for once?” Technus materialized next to him. “AH PHANTOM!” If ghosts could sweat Danny was pretty sure Technus would be. “I DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO BE HERE, UHH.” He looked at the watch on his wrist. “LOOK AT THE TIME, I HAVE TO GO… UH MAKE DINNER!” He vanished. Danny was grateful he was now powerful enough that most ghosts knew to just leave if he showed up.

Danny reluctantly flew back into the station and reverted back to a human. Giving his crew mates an uncomfortable grin.   

“Holy shit that was awesome!” 

“Woah what was that dude?” “Are you an alien?” “Of course he’s not an alien, he flew through the wall. He’s a ghost!”

They all clambered about asking him questions. Danny smiled as he answered the questions. He had a feeling his secret, job, and organs were safe with them.

[cassiedangerclouds]

Everything Is Green {Krii7y}

DeviantArt: SugarHigh100 (Smii7y)

Twitter: Beaudicea (Kryoz)

~

Trigger Warning!: In this story, I will write about colour blindness. Sorry if I do not get it correct as I myself do not suffer from anything of the sort (I am mildly longsighted). If this may offend you, please don't read. And I would really love to hear from some colour blind people on how I can fix my perception of it up in case I write this type of thing again.

Remember that this is MY interpretation of colour blindness (Protanomaly and Tritanopia), this is how I understood what I read from my research. So please don't take it personally if I get it completely wrong.

In this story, there will also be:

Anxiety Attacks –Based off of the ones I get. Because everyone experiences these differently-

Bullying (mentioned)

Swearing

Self-Deprecating Tendencies

~

Life gets pretty boring when all you see if various shades of green, grey and if you're lucky, violet.

But not the pretty, dark violet everyone else sees. No, it's a dull, kind of light version.

That's just life when your parents are Red-Green and Blue-Yellow colour blind and you pull the short straw on both ends.

No, I couldn't just have one; like not perceiving reds or greens properly. Or maybe become a very rare case and not be able to see blues properly.

No.

I ended up Red-Green in one eye and Blue-Yellow in the other.

So my world is full of dull, warped greens, boring and monotonous blacks and whites, only light grey and maybe, if luck wants to grace me, with violet. I strive for the moments that slightly purply-blue colour pops, I try to capture every detail of the moment so that I can try recreate it.

My parents try to tell me that when I'm older, my eyes may get better.

But I know that they won't.

Magic doesn't exist. If you're born with these things, you live with them forever.

People get weirded out by me. I confuse them. So I learnt to keep to myself. I sit under the trees, on the grass, things that should be blindingly green and are but just a dull blue really.

I got told that my glasses would help me see colours properly, but the kids all picked on me, so I don't wear them anymore.

The glasses were pretty cool I guess, I mean they were blue and red, and the world looked amazing back in fifth grade for the month that I wore them.

It's been five years since I've worn them though, I figured that, if I was picked on in fifth grade, high school would be no saving grace. So they sit in draw at home, collecting dust.

I guess life isn't too bad, I mean, at least I'm not blind. But this is no better.

"Hey. Hey. Can you hear me?" I kept my head down, knowing exactly who it was.

"I asked you a question."

I looked up, not too much, just enough to see if it was who I thought it was, "Yeah. I guess. I'm not deaf." I said, tapping my fingers against the ground.

"I'm not here to pick on you kid. I'm not an arsehole. My friends and I saw you sitting by yourself and I wanted to know if you wanted some company."

This time he caught my full attention, "Like for real? This isn't some big joke that Evan and all that set up to give me hope?" I asked.

He laughed, "Nah dude, honestly, Evan and his friends are a little overrated." He said, "With the exception of like Ryan. Oh and Craig, he hangs out with us sometimes."

I smiled, "I mean, sure. I guess that I could come and sit with you guys." I said.

"Sick." He said, helping me up.

He led me over to a table, not far from where I was sitting, I noticed him stumbling a little.

"Hey fuckers. I'm back." He announced.

"No one gives a fuck John." One of the other males at the table replied, looking up from his phone.

"Fuck you to, bitch." John replied.

"So guys, this is...uh I never asked your name, did I?" John asked.

"Good goin' John. You see a lonely kid, invite him over, but don't even ask his name." another said, this one was for sure in grey.

I snickered a little, looking over the group, of course, looking at everyone wasn't going to help me tell them apart, but it was worth a shot.

"HEY! That sounded a lot better in my head." The grey one stated.

"So, what's your name stranger?" one of the guys closest to me asked.

Come on, just say Jaren. "Lukas." I answer. What the fuck did I say that for?

"Well Lukas. As you could figure out, I'm John. In order around the table from my left. Cameron, Ryan, Craig, Anthony and...where did Crystal go?" John asked for a person I guess was here before he came over to me.

Crazy hair, grey guy, glasses, panda case. I recited in my head, it was the only way I'd actually remember them.

"Brock's nut of a sister came over and requested that her friend join her for a conversation." Anthony, I think, answered.

I frowned, "Cassidy isn't too crazy." I stated, causing everyone to stare at me.

"What. She used to be my..." I trailed off, "Never mind. Why did you invite me over here. I'm just the weird kid."

"We're all weird here." Cameron said, completely ignoring my slip up or at least I hope he did.

"I mean. Probably not. At least compared to me. Nobody is as mutant as I am."  I stated, looking down.

"What. Why? Because your eyes are different a little off centre or your hair is white? Every time I saw you, I always thought you just bleached it, like John does with his." Craig said with a shrug.

I sighed, shaking my head, "Okay. Don't like freak or anything okay John. But like, that jumper you're wearing is probably rad. But it's like literally all green, different shades. But to me. That whole thing is green, except the white bits near your wrists." I always found it was an easy way to explain my problem to people by talking about something that probably wasn't green and trying to tell them that's how I see it. "I can imagine and sort of figure out the colours, because I've done it for so long-"

"What shades of green?" John asked.

I shrugged, "The top is like a lime kind of colour. So it's probably like yellow or somet'in'. Uh, the middle is a dull green. So that's like red or orange, I don't remember because I don't see those colours a lot. The top of the sleeves is like, mint ice cream green. So they're some type of blue." I explained, hoping I got the colours close.

"That's so cool dude." John said.

"How do you live like that? Not being able to see colours. Only green?" Craig asked.

"Well. I mainly see the green spectrum, but I can see light grey, black, white and sometimes, violet. But it's like not the cool dark violet colour, it's more like what I think you would see as a cross between magenta maybe and periwinkle. I can see some shades of yellow, kind of. Most colours appear as greens though." I explained, tapping my fingers against my leg.

"Well, sit down you weird ass human." Cameron said.

I smiled, shaking my head, "Sorry. This was a nice..experience, but I'm just gonna leave." I said, turning around, I walked back towards where I was.

Suddenly I was on the ground, noticeably colder than before.

I looked up and saw my jumper in John's hands.

"Hey, fuck you. Give me my jumper back, it's cold." I demanded, getting off my arse, snatching my jumper out of his hands, slipping it over my head.

"It's a mild fifteen degrees, it's not that cold." Cameron stated.

"Shut up, you Kiwi fuck. We get it that it's fucking freezing in New Zealand." A feminine voice said from behind me.

Cameron pouted, "Piss off you Aussie bitch." He stated.

"Oh, and this is Crystal. Crystal, this is –"

"Hey Luke." Crystal said with a shrug.

"Vibe." I returned, watching as they walked over and sat between Cameron and Ryan.

"Wait- you two know each oth-"

"Whatever, reunions are boring. What did the nut want with you, aye?" Cameron asked, nudging Crystal's shoulder.

Crystal shrugged, "Never say that again. Worst Australian accent ever. Come on Fitzy, you're the closest one to where I'm from and you can't even fake a believable accent." They said.

The group started to banter, giving me the perfect chance to slip away.

I kept walking, not really knowing where I was going, I just knew I had to get away from that group before something bad happened to them because of me.

"Hey. Hey! Lukas, wait up." I heard a call from behind me, recognising John's voice, I picked up my pace, not watching where I was going.

Once more I was on the ground and I noticed that it was because I had bumped into someone. I stood up, "I'm so sorry. I-" my breath hitched.

In front of me stood well known school menace and Evan's right hand man Jonathan.

"I-I'm so so sorry. Uh, Delirious." I said, I could feel myself shaking.

Delirious turned to face me, and I could feel my lungs get heavy.

"Dude. Are you okay?" he asked me, sending me into surprise.

"What?" I managed to squeak out.

"I asked if you were okay? You hit me pretty hard and fell to the floor." Delirious said.

I shrugged, "I'm uh. Fine. Just yeah. Sorry." I stammered, my breathing starting to even out.

"Lukas, why are you-" I heard John stop dead, his boots squeaking as he skidded on the hallway floor. "Fuck."

"Well, if you're okay. Then I'm just gonna walk away." Delirious said, walking away.

I was still shaking, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

"Dude, are you okay?" I heard John was near me now.

But I still didn't open my eyes, I shakily pointed at my bag, "Pap- Pap- Bag" I started coughing.

"Pap Bag. Pap. Paper Bag! Oh, get the paper out of your bag!" John figured out, quickly flipping the latch on my bag and handing me the almost empty bag.

"I don't understand how this will help you." John said.

I cupped my hand around the opening, placing it near my mouth, breathing in and out into the bag.

My breathing went back to normal after five minutes and the coughing stopped.

I moved it away and drew in a deep breath.

"What the fuck was that?" John asked, making me painfully aware that he was still there.

I opened my eyes to see him standing in front of me, "That was an anxiety attack you fucking idiot. Holy shit. I could've-no-probably would've passed out if you hadn't have helped me. Jesus, I haven't had one that bad in a while." I stated, half talking to myself.

"Your welcome. I mean, I don't know how to respond." John said.

I smiled, "Thank you. But seriously. I thought that Jonathan was a bully. He didn't even threaten me. I think a lot of people just spread rumours and one rumour made it out and became popular saying that the BBS are bullies. They're probably just a bunch of misunderstood kids. I- I'm sorry for walking off." I said.

"Nah dude. My friends can be a little much sometimes, even for me." He said.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm still sorry. It was a good thing you did you know, asking me to join you guys. Your friends don't seem to bad. I'd probably fit in with you all. I feel like a big dou-"

I felt something warm against my lips for a split second and then it was gone.

"You talk too much." John stated.

My face started heating up, "What the fuck? We haven't even known each other for a day. John you're fucking weird," I stated, pulling my sleeve over my hand, wiping my mouth.

He laughed, "You enjoyed it. Don't deny it." He said.

Maybe I did. It doesn't matter, I don't even know the guy. "No I didn't." I retorted, but I knew my body language said otherwise.

"You're a bad lyre Lukas. You're red as a firetruck." He teased.

"Shut up you fucking prick." I muttered.

He rolled his eyes, "Come on. Come and hang out with me and my band of Misfits." He said.

I sighed, "Fine." I said and we walked back towards his friends, maybe a bit closer than previously.

But seriously, who the fuck kisses someone they just met? Like what even is that?

"Someone who has a set." John replied.

"Fuck. I said that out loud. Sorry." I said.

He stopped and turned to face me, "Stop fucking apologising. You've done nothing wrong." He said.

And that's when I noticed one small thing, well not really small thing, but it was something that would this was a moment I'd never forget.

~

Everything is green.

But his hair is my favourite colour.

Because it is violet.

~

Authors Note:

Hi guys!

Yes, I am a weirdo. I would've made it John's eyes, except that in this case it wouldn't work because John's eyes are blue and for them to be violet, they'd have to be yellow. Which just isn't realistic.

Anyway, that's it.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #259

"i went straight to heaven, but i kept on knockin’.”

What's something that makes you feel more creative? Music. What are the last three nail polish colors you wore? Wow, idk the last time I wore nail polish, but probably black or maroon. What's the last thing you binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. Do you watch youtube videos or tv shows more? YouTube is essentially my TV. Quite literally - I don't have a television in my room because I never watch it. What's a DIY project that you don't think actually works? Oh dude, plenty. I have DIY-obsessed friends online as well as a Pinterest, I know this shit, lmao. I can name one though with total certainty because I was with a friend when she tried that disgusting "YOU CAN MAKE cuPCAkES IN A C uP!!!!!" crap. It's the most eggy shit you'll ever try. Do you collect Mason jars to use for crafts? No, but I think those crafts are generally super cute. Have you ever gotten rid of something and then regretted it? If so, what? (or what's one thing?) Oh yeah, one of my biggest being my senior prom pictures, but not for the reason you'd expect (save for two pictures of us that're just REALLY fuckin cute): I want them back because goddamn I was pretty ok and I miss that now that I hate my body every waking moment of every day. :^) What color is the zip-up hoodie you wear the most? Don't have one w/ a zipper, they're ugly. Do you live in an apartment that has inspections? No. Do you hate taking naps during the day? Nooo I love naps and usually take one a day. I tend to feel really tired all over again a few hours or so after I wake up. Who in your immediate family has the best natural hair? MEEEEEEEEEEEE. Would you ever audition for American Idol? Hell no. Do you know anyone who thinks they're more talented than they are? Lol wow, this is mean. I don't think so. Do you buy gum? Rarely, even though I like it. What's your favorite dollar store?  I don’t have a favorite, I'd say? But I think we normally go to Dollar General. How many cell phones have you had in your lifetime? Maybe like, six? Have you ever been inside a Victorian mansion? BITCH I WISH!!!!!!!!!!!! I would kill to get married in one, omfGGGGGGGGGGG. What was the most boring field trip you ever want on? I don't remember a bad one. I loved going on field trips. The last time you went, what were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? I’ve never been. Which country would you most like to visit? Eeeeek idk, but probably South Africa. What are your favorite types of videos to watch on YouTube? What I watch on YouTube has become pretty diverse, but I know my favorites are easily Mark's actual big projects w/ egos 'n shit alksjdflk;w gOOD SHIT MY FRIENDS. I still love let's plays, of course! Are you a hoarder? No. Is there a guy (or girl) that you wish things had worked out with? Yes. If you were to start a collection, what would it be? I'd loooove Shadow of the Colossus stuff, particularly the amazing figures they used to have only in Japan. And World of Warcraft stuff; all I have rn is an Illidan poster and a fae dragon plushy hanging from my ceiling that Jason got me. If you were rich, what things would you get done cosmetically? Mother of god, a lot. #1, make me skinny again for the love of fuck. Which would result in loose skin being taken off and probably a breast lift because being overweight ruined my comfort with them laskdjfw. Whiten my teeth and give me laser hair removal surgery on my legs, please. Are your parents too controlling? Not at all. Who is your favorite fictitious redhead? VOL'JIN Blizzard what the FUCK give him BACK What shows have you seen on Broadway? None. Who is the prettiest Asian YouTuber that you can think of? Bitch Mark is Korean and he's gorgeous as fuck goddamn it ain't fair. But this is a weird question. What is the best news you've heard lately? When my mom got a follow-up blood test, things looked good!! She especially needed to level out her sugar, which she did well on. She also didn't lose or gain any weight, so that's wonderful. Have you ever flown first class? Hunny I am v poor. Have you ever had food SO bad in a restaurant that you sent it back? I don't believe so, anyway. Do you talk in your sleep? Very regularly now. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house? OOF, yes. Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? They stick with me for a long, long time. At least two I remember from years upon years ago. Who was the last person you cut out of your life intentionally? My old therapist that I trusted and loved when I fucking shouldn't have. Where were you raised? By who? Eastern NC, by my parents. What were your first words? "Dada." What were some of your favorite things when you were young? DINOSAURS, Webkinz, Pokemon, and Spyro, to name a few. What did you grow up listening to? Mostly country and pop music. What games did you play in the past? Spyro was my obsession, and I also loved hunting games (ironic, as irl I would never even consider it???) as well as fishing ones, plus Crash Bandicoot. What was the best birthday party you ever had? I'm not sure. How about the best vacation? I'm unsure; I haven't really been on a lot. Do you have any secrets you never intend to tell? Yup. What memory would you like to disappear from your mind forever? A nightmare I had about my dad. If you were someone else, would you be friends with the person you are now? Yeah. Do you consider yourself a smart person? No. What friend in your life has been the greatest influence to you? I don't know. Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? What made it so terrifying? I shared a bedroom with an EXTREMELY volatile, violent woman once in the mental hospital. As in she had to go in solitary when she had a violent episode, during which she became very destructive to her surroundings, so as you could guess, I was worried about my own wellbeing. She was eventually moved because I was that uncomfortable. Did you celebrate Easter? Are there any holidays you are more inclined to celebrate than others? If so, which? Well, Easter hasn't come yet, but we'll probably go to my sister's house for the kids. We'll celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving without fail. We don't pay much attention to others. I'd LOVE to do something for Halloween, we just never have anywhere to go/anything to do. What was the last thing you deleted? Pictures. What colors make up the majority of your wardrobe? Is there any color you like, but don’t wear often? There's black there. Oh, there's s'more black. What's that???? More bLACK????? MAN, I wish I could pull off pink. When was the last time you were in any amount of pain? I had a pretty intense headache yesterday. Who was the last person to hug you? Do you hug this person often? My niece, and yeah, every time I visit. What are you most likely to argue or debate about? The fact I almost never leave my pajamas lmao. What was the last show you watched? Have you seen it before, or is it something you’re watching for the first time? A few days back, I was reeeaaally bored and actually watched TV deliberately, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?????? It was The Witcher; wasn't bad. I'd be willing to watch more. How would you describe your taste in clothing? What would a dream outfit look like to you? uuuuuggggGHHHHHHHH let me be GOTH. Give me a corsette if they weren't notoriously uncomf with plenty of chains 'n stuff. BIG, SPIKY BOOTS. SKINNY LEATHER PANTS. UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH. Have you ever tried snowboarding? No. What’s your favorite planet besides Earth? Saturn is dope. Would you ever be a coach for any sport? Nope. What color of eyes do you have? Blue. Do you like tacos? NOOOOOOOOO. White or red wine? Wine is gross. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Foxes. What’s the youngest you would consider dating? No younger than 21. Do you think suits are sexy? mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Did you go to high school with your current best friend? No. What is your boss’ (or school prinicpal’s) name? N/A Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I was never really a fan. Respected him immensely as a musician, I just didn't care much about his music. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Ham. Turkey is always too dry and stringy. Do you look good in hats? I wouldn't know, I haven't worn one in forever. Never with short hair. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face's eyes? Colons. Do you like architecture? If so, do you have a favourite style or structure that you’d like to make note? Yes, and I should really have an answer for this, as architecture was a big part in Art History... Ummm Etruscan stands out, and of course Roman/Greek (even after the class I don't remember their differences well...). I love Middle Eastern architecture, too. What is one of your favorite words, in any language, and why? I just love the sound of "serendipity," as well as uhhhh "sakura" in Japanese and "kanji" in Chinese. I'm trying to think of a German one, as there certainly are some, but they're evading me right now. Where is the farthest you’ve travelled on foot? JESUS FUCK probably going to get Sara's brother from school, mother of all that is holy. But it might just feel like it because it was during the peak of my muscle atrophy in my legs. Are there any songs that you perhaps like but avoid because it makes you sad when heard? A good number. Do you like the area that you live in? What do you like or dislike about the area? NO. There's not shit to do and it's not aesthetically pleasing at all. Do you have a memory of when you really thought that you have lucked out on something? If so, what was it? Uhhhhh. A handful, I guess? Oh, uh, the suicide attempt to name one and probably the biggest. I took way too many of those pills to experience almost zero symptoms of an overdose; I did look up what "too many" was, because I wanted that. I'd say I was pretty fuckin lucky. If you have apps on your mobile phone, which one do you use the most? Facebook. Which do you like better: fantasy or science fiction novels? Why? FANTASY!!! I think it allows more creativity and possibilities of something magically "making sense" because yeah, it's fantasy. Science fiction has more "realness" to it, more, obviously, scientific elements versus make-believe. Do you like opossums? Do you think it is ethically right for others to keep opossums as pets? OPOSSUMS!!!!!!!!! ARE!!!!!!!!!! FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They're my second-favorite animals kdsja;lkdjaw. BUT ANYWAY, no, unless it's for rescue reasons. When was the last time someone asked you a huge favor or advice? Do you get asked often by this person? Oh I have no idea. Probably my mom? And no, definitely not. She hates asking for help. What are your thoughts on nihilism? I definitely get it, but it's not my personal outlook. Do you like the snow? More like love. What are your thoughts and feelings towards work/jobs in general? I don't know? I've never even had a real, steady job, so it's hard to really answer... I've only had bad experiences. It's kinda weird to me how you have to work your ass off (usually) to get a job you enjoy, as well as slave for some stupid green paper until the day you die just to stay alive and healthy. But at the same time, it offers a sense of fulfilment and is as well something productive and beneficial to the masses to do. Civilization would be very, very different and unadvanced if we were without them, so I guess it is a necessary thing. Humans gotta work together to keep where we're at. Do you believe in astrology? I've never actually elaborated why I don't believe in it so there ya go: not in the slightest. All it does is offer extremely broad characteristics that, in some light, almost anyone can relate to so they feel included in something. We naturally want to "belong" within something as social creatures, and astrology is an easy one with it being so vast. It gives equally indirect advice that can be applied to a multitude of situations, so people just mold what they read to fit their world. Don't base your goddamn life choices on the random positioning of shit in space. What is something that you’ve made/created? Do you take pride in your creations? Well, way way way too many OCs that I do indeed love a hell of a lot. If you have a Tumblr account, do you have any followers that you wish would not follow you? Well I'm sure there are bots. What kind of books do you generally enjoy to read? Fantasy stuff, mostly. But I also love novels with deep meaning, particularly about life in general. A good plot is mandatory. Does the quality of a video, on YouTube or a television, matter to you? I mean of course in some situations, like if I'm watching something educational/something to gain visual knowledge from. What is one situation that may cause you to become shy (if there is any)? Don't don't don't don't don't point out that my serious interests/things I massively love are "weird" like it's been years and I can still barely explain why my biggest tattoo is a tribute to some fuckface on the Internet lmao. When one is depressed, what can a friend do about it? Do you find that there is a good method to approach people in helping them combat depression? It is SO important to, first, ask them what they want. Do they want advice, an ear to just listen, just your presence, to be alone? As for combating depression, that greatly depends on the origin (if any) of theirs. There are so many factors in answering this question, but what I mentioned should, imo, always be the start. Do you tend to listen to music that embraces your mood or does music dictate your mood? Is it a little bit of both? Definitely both. When I'm sad though, I'm almost definitely listening to somber music too. Do you find yourself to be generally a forgiving person? I'm too goddamn forgiving. Do you have an embarrassing memory that you now look back at and can laugh? If so and if you’re comfortable, could you share one here? Omg I have a Bible-length collection of those suckers. I'd prefer not to. What is one skill that you have worked hard to develop? Is there still room for improvement on that skill? Damn, anxiety-coping mechanisms and actually trusting them to help me through attacks. I used to be convinced that they were useless because it just wouldn't work and weren't immediately effective, but you've gooooooot to trust the process, friends. What do you consider to be your main passion(s) and how did they come about? Spreading awareness of the seriousness of mental health and the comfort of knowing there's hope. You can never stop pushing. My own experience with mental health struggles is definitely the deeeep roots of that. Who do you think influenced you the most in your life so far? Why? Jason changed my life in many ways. Trauma does that. He taught me a lot about the necessity of having faith in yourself to survive on your own, a shitload about love and how it's not some fairy tale, and that people change, even those you least expect to. What is something that you have overheard people talk about that really bothered you? I could name more than a few things about race stuff, living where I do. What do you normally say or how do you normally act in response to a compliment? I usually do this shy laugh and say "thank you" with too much enthusiasm. How many books do you own? Do you have more physical books than electronic books? I've no clue where a lot of my old ones are. I have no electronic ones; I strongly prefer to read a physical book. What are your thoughts on higher education? Is it really necessary? In your opinion, what changes can be made? Depending on your aspiring career, it can be necessary, but just as easily, it can be unnecessary. I know for a fucking fact it should not be NEARLY as expensive as it is. Maybe even free, but I have no idea what monetary concerns that could cause with whoever runs the place. Have you ever received a heartfelt compliment from a stranger? Probably at some point. How many people would you consider to be extremely close to you? "Extremely"... like three lmao. Maybe one more or so. When was the last time you had to speak to a crowd? How well did that go? When I was taking pictures at a wedding last. It went okay. How would you describe your general outlook towards humanity? We by no means deserve to be the apex predator and Earth would be a shitload better without us. How long do you think you could last without any contact with your significant other, best friend, or a person whom you consider would be the closest to you? I'll use my mom here, in which case idk. I don't particularly want to find out. I talk to her at LEAST by text daily. Every day now that she can't work/is always home with me. Have you ever realised that someone was lying, but it was too late to confront them? Nope. Eventually speaking up is how I lost her, but.

[master-sass-blast]

Paint it Red

DEAR GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER. HOLY SHIT.

Summary: You and Piotr celebrate Valentine’s Day together --and because Piotr is Piotr, he knocks it out of the park by spoiling you at every turn.

This is a fluff fic. Not a drop of angst in sight. You’re welcome.

Rating: E for HOLY SHIT HOW DID SO MUCH SMUT END UP IN THIS?

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol, roadhead (drive safe, kids), and graphic (consensual) sex.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Tag list: @marvel-is-perfection

Side note: The lyrics in the beginning portion are from Paramore’s “The Only Exception.”

Special thank you to @starman-thorsus-canos-jock for beta reading this! If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t be getting uploaded tonight because I wouldn’t have had the guts to do it!

“When I was younger/ I saw my daddy cry/ And curse at the wind...”

You hum along with the song playing on your phone, swaying back and forth slightly as you work on applying your makeup for the evening.

You’d never celebrated Valentine’s Day as a child --save for once, when you’d been on your uncle’s farm when the holiday had rolled around, and he’d decided to celebrate with you by fixing both of you massive ice cream sundaes and telling you about all the ridiculous bad dates he’d been on.

Sometimes, you think that man’s the only reason you have any sense of humanity in you.

Wade, technically, had properly introduced you to the holiday once you arrived at Xavier’s. He’d tossed five different bags of red, white, and pink wrappered candy in your lap before putting some sort of classically bland and saccharine rom-com on and watching it with you.

You still have some of the wrappers saved, tucked away in a box in your closet.

Piotr, though, had been the one to introduce you to Valentine’s Day to a whole new level; he’d kept things tame during your first year together, at your request, but the night --an evening picnic in his art studio, complete with candles and flowers--had been completely and utterly perfect.

This year, though, you’d given him free reign to do what he wanted --he’s the planner of the two of you, with legal access to a car and legally earned money in his bank account

--and thus far, you’re completely and utterly swept off your feet by what he’s come up with.

He’d told you to pack an overnight bag last night, with reasonably detailed instructions on what to pack: a nice dress and things to pair with it for an evening out, pajamas, and comfortable clothes for the drive back the next morning.

And toiletries, makeup, etcetera etcetera --not the fucking point.

Because the fucking point is that the next morning he’d surprised you with breakfast in bed before telling you to get dressed and grab your bag. And then  he’d driven you to the fanciest fucking hotel you’ve ever seen and revealed that not only had he booked a room for the night, but he’d made reservations at a restaurant that --when you’d taken a moment to look it up on your phone--was so expensive it nearly made you fall over.

How he could afford it was beyond you, but leave it to Piotr Rasputin to blow every guy on the face of the planet away on Valentine’s day.

A day out of the mansion, away from everyone, just for the two of you.

There’d even been a vase of roses and a box of chocolates waiting in the room, as per instructions your wonderful boyfriend had left with the hotel staff.

Again, leave it to Piotr Rasputin.

He’d taken you out to lunch, then to a nearby art museum and showed you around with the intensity, passion, and mild distractedness that only an artist could have in such a place.

And you’d watched him, entertained and enthralled and endlessly endeared.

And now, now you’re back at the hotel, getting ready for what promises to be a fabulous dinner.

“You are/ the only exception/ You are/ the only exception--”

You sing along with the song, swaying as you continue working on your makeup. You’re almost done and all you’ve got left is to change into your dress --you’d thought it best to leave it off until your makeup was done and put away, thus making spills impossible--and put on your shoes. You grumble as you try to get your eyeliner done --and realize that, perhaps just maybe, swaying isn’t exactly conducive to making even eyeliner wings. “Why. Is. Eye-line-r so damn hard? Why. Is. Eye-line-r so damn hard?”

A loud snort from the bathroom door makes you pause.

Piotr’s wiping at his eyes as he braces himself against the door frame. “Did you mean to sing that with the song?”

You smirk and shrug. “Hey, I think I’m onto something. Just you watch, it’ll be the greatest hit of the year.”

“Are you almost ready, myshka? Our reservation is soon.”

“Yeah, yeah --fuck it.” You cap your eyeliner pen and toss it in your makeup bag. “Who needs wings? They’re just a pain in the ass anyway.” You swipe on some lipstick, do an obligatory lip pop at the mirror, and then change into your dress for the evening.

It’s a relatively modest, lacy, red number that neither clings to you like a second skin or hugs your every curve. It does, however, fit you properly, match Piotr’s tie perfectly, and make you feel like a princess or a superstar when you wear it, and that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?

(For the record, it is.)

You put on your shoes --a pair of black pumps with enough heel to make you sound fancy without being high enough to risk twisting any ankles--then fluff your hair before doing a little spin. “How do I look?”

He smiles at you, dreamy and almost shy. “Krasivaya. Always.”

Beautiful.

You can’t help but preen a little at his praise, and take the arm he offers to you. “Take me to dinner, Mr. Rasputin.”

He chuckles as he opens the door that leads to the hall for you. “But of course, dorogaya moya.”

The restaurant is located near the Hudson river, and is out of the city enough that you don’t have to worry about getting clipped by a taxi when you get out of the car.

It’s the small things in life, really.

Piotr hands his keys to the valet before opening your door and holds out a hand to you. “Moya lyubov’.”

Some whimsical, inane, distracted part of your brain whisks you away in a bizarre sort of fantasy, where’s he’s actually a Russian crime lord and you’re some kind of waitress or college student or otherwise financially strapped young woman that’s being seduced by the trappings of luxury and crime, and he’s in turn being charmed by your plucky personality and down-to-earth sensibilities.

Granted, it’s not the weirdest thing your mind’s ever come up with, so you just giggle and let him escort you inside.

Given how all out Piotr’s been going for the holiday, you’d half expected to be seated in some sort of private room --and are grateful when you aren’t. You enjoy the background hum of the other diners and the opportunity to people watch; it keeps the lulls in conversation from feeling too stifling.

Besides, it’s not like you needed a private dining experience to make the evening any more memorable. The view of the river is divine, ripples and currents glittering as the lights from the city refract off the water. And the dining room itself is heavenly, all white linens and tea light candles and soft, jazzy piano music being piped through seemingly invisible speakers.

You’re feeling more and more the part of the seduced, ho-hum citizen, almost dizzy from the heady thrill of it all. You can’t help but giggle when he pulls out your chair for you --and pushes it back in, ever the consummate gentleman--and peek at him coyly from beneath your lashes when he sits down across from you. “You’re going all out for tonight.”

He smiles back and takes one of your hands in his --careful to avoid the little tealight candle sitting at the center of the table, ever the consummate worry-wart. “You deserve to be spoiled. Today is good excuse.”

You arch an eyebrow at him, smirking playfully. “You need an excuse?”

He winks at you. “Only to get time off work.”

You open your mouth to say something else--

And then a perfectly coiffed blond man dressed in an chef’s uniform is walking up to your table with a smile. “Piotr. It’s good to see you.”

Piotr stands and shakes the man’s hand with a smile of his own. “Grant. It has been too long.”

“No kidding.” The man --Grant--glances at you with a smile. “Are you going to introduce me to your date?”

You can’t help but preen a little --again--when Piotr does, basking in the glow of his affection the way a cat basks in the glow of a sunbeam.

(They may as well be the same damn things, as far as you’re concerned.)

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you and even lovelier to see that Piotr can, in fact, do something other than pine in the presence of a pretty girl.”

You giggle when Piotr shoots Grant an indignant look. “I mean... how long were you calling me ‘myshka’ for before you told me it was a term of endearment used by couples? A year? A year and a half?”

Grant groans quietly as the tips of Piotr’s ears go red. “Dude. No.”

“I kissed him first, too, if that counts for anything.”

“I think everything ended up fine,” Piotr says emphatically, trying to end the conversation before it gets too out of hand.

“Says the glacier,” Grant teases before refocusing on you. “Piotr’s an old friend of mine; we studied at Xavier’s together, and he encouraged me to pursue my love of the culinary arts when I felt like I couldn’t keep up with the X-Men. Oh, he did the artwork for here, too.”

You twist in your seat to survey the dining room --and sure enough, you recognize Piotr’s style. You make an approving noise in the back of your throat as you smile at your boyfriend. “I’m surprised I didn’t recognize it earlier.”

“It’s not my best work.”

“Pete, if it wasn’t your best work, I wouldn’t have it hanging up. I know what I’m about.” Grant grins and clasps his hands together. “At any rate, when Piotr called me and asked me to help him, quote, ‘give the love of his life the most memorable Valentine’s Day she’s ever had,’ I couldn’t say no.”

You smile bashfully and duck your head, feeling ever drunker off the depths of Piotr’s love for you and the lengths he’ll go to show it.

“So, far be it from me to tell you what to order or how to order it, but I do hope you’ll let me pick your wine for the evening; a personal favorite of mine, pairs well with just about anything.”

It takes a moment to realize that Grant’s waiting for your approval, not Piotr’s --you’re the lady of the evening, and things’ll go however you want them to--and when you put it together you lift your head with a little giggle and nod. “That sounds great.”

The wine is excellent.

Not because it has undertones of oak or berries or whatever the fuck terms wine snobs use when describing wine. It’s just good. Rich.

It tastes like luxury without the ‘Buzzfeed Worth It’-toss-a-bunch-of-gold-leaf-and-fucking-truffles-on-top-to-sell-the-‘luxury’ ridiculousness to deal with.

The food is excellent. For the same reasons as the wine, but also because it’s delicious.

The inane, fantasy spinning part of your brain --which has been significantly boosted thanks to the wine, not that it needed much encouragement to begin with--is on some tangent about how this is the way to do proper seduction. No ridiculous, cheesy, trendy five star restaurant that puts truffle on everything so they can pump up the prices, or encrusts things in diamond because they could. No over the top shopping spree to start off the day or limo ride on the way over.

It’s about quality. About letting the activities serve as an accent, a backdrop, to the affection you feel for the recipient.

And, fuck, Piotr’s good at it. He’s always been good at getting things ‘just so,’ at finessing everything just right so that you feel like the center of the world without being overwhelmed by some sort of ostentatious display.

“Alright, I have to know,” you say as you take another bite of mashed potatoes that are so damn smooth they may as well be made of silk. “How long did you spend planning this?”

“Most of the year,” he admits. “To make sure I could get proper reservations. I did not want to get caught short.”

“Well, this has been completely and utterly spectacular,” you say.

“It’s not over yet,” he says with a glint in his eye that tells you he’s thinking about exactly the same thing as you.

You can’t help but squirm in your seat a little, excited and impatient. “No, it certainly isn’t.” You drink a little more wine --you’re almost done for the night, you’ve learned your limits by now--and smile at him. “You know, last year, when I told you that you could go all out, I almost expected... I don’t know. Everything big and flashy --rose petals on the bed, or something.”

He catches your meaning and arches a thick eyebrow at you. “Is that what you would have wanted?”

You shake your head immediately. “No. It would’ve been too much. But this... this is perfect.”

He smiles, cheeks pinking at your praises, and holds out one of his hands to you. “I like to think I know you well.”

“You were tempted to go that far though, even if just for a moment,” you press, amused and endeared because you know him too, as you place your hand on his. “Admit it.”

“I was,” he confesses without any trace of shame or embarrassment. “Because you are my world and I want to give you everything in it.”

You can feel tears threatening to well up and you bite the inside of your bottom lip to hold them back because you worked hard on your makeup, dammit. “Well, count me as curious, because I really want to know what stopped you.”

“You’re always curious.”

“And if you were actually complaining about that, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He smiles. “I will never complain about your curiosity. It is one of the things I love most about you.”

“You keep talking like that and my heart’s gonna actually melt.”

“I know some good healers,” he says with a wink.

You can’t help but laugh, soft and drunk on love. “Okay, but how did you figure out this wouldn’t be too much for me?”

“You think I don’t know you?”

“No, I know you know me, I’m curious about the process. C’mon, babe, humor me a little. Show me how the fascinating mind of Mr. Piotr Rasputin works.”

He chuckles and rubs your knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “I know you can be... overwhelmed by affection at times. That gestures too grand make you anxious because you don’t know how to handle them. So I opted for... a quiet glamour, if you will.”

You honestly can’t think of a better way to describe the evening. “Well, you nailed it. I almost feel bad for not having anything for you.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. I wanted opportunity to spoil you, and you let me have it.”

“That honestly sounds like a load of crap.”

“You do so much for me every day without realizing it.” His face goes unexpectedly serious, and you know it’s because he’s getting emotional. “As much as you think you offer nothing to me, you are wrong. I may not deal with struggles as severe as yours, but--” he pauses to swallow and find the words he wants “--there are many days where I feel lonely. I know that I come off as idealistic, naive, to others. A ‘glorified hall monitor.’ I know that people don’t always respect me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Babe--”

He shakes his head and smiles. “The people who I care about most respect me. I don’t care about others. Point of matter is, you make me feel loved and appreciated. The parts of myself that people make fun off, you make feel... good. Respected.” He looks up at you, and his eyes are shimmering with unshed tears. “You make me feel like I’m enough.”

Dammit, now you’re gonna cry. “You’re enough, Piotr. Just as you are. You’re so much more than enough.”

“Well, you make me feel like it.” He smiles politely when the server clears away your empty plates, nods when they ask if the two of you want dessert menus, then reaches into his pocket as they walk away. “Ah. Before I forget--”

“Babe --what?” Your heat hammers as he places a red velvet box on the table and scoots it towards you.

You know it’s not an engagement ring. You don’t have a diagnosis yet for your episodes, and the last conversation the two you had about marriage, you still wanted to wait for one and he was still fine with that. If that had changed, he would’ve talked to you about first.

That, and the box is a little too big for it to be a ring box --not to mention the fact that if Piotr was proposing, he’d already be down on one knee.

You open the box and gasp as a tasteful, elegant diamond necklace on a dainty silver chain glitters up at you. “Piotr...”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, moya lyubov’.”

You press your hand against your mouth, eyes watery, and smile. “It’s... it’s really fucking beautiful, Piotr. Will you help me put it on?”

“Konechno.”

He stands as you --carefully, you don’t want to break the chain--extract the necklace from the box, then takes it from your hands and moves behind you.

The combination of the cool metal against your skin and his fingers brushing against the nape of your neck makes you shiver.

And then he’s pressing his fingers against the underside of your chin and tilting your head up so he can press his lips against yours.

It takes all your willpower not to moan into the kiss; it’s closed-mouthed, it’s not like the two of you are Frenching each other in the restaurant, but you can still feel the passion and want behind it.

Your toes do curl in your shoes, though, and you do get a few chuckles out of some nearby patrons at the sigh you let out.

And then your sever’s back with the dessert menus, gushing about how cute the two of you are and complimenting Piotr on his taste in jewelry as he heads back to his seat.

Your hand flits to your neck, feeling the gems in their settings, and once you get your head back you ask “How did you even afford all this?”

He glances around the dining room --at his art on the walls--with an amused smirk before opening his dessert menu. “I know better than to work for free.”

You know you have to make the first move.

Now that lunch and the art museum and getting ready and the drive over and dinner and the necklace and dessert are all out of the way, you know that you’ve only got the drive back to the hotel to capitalize on the burning, throbbing sexual tension between the two of you and get your fun in.

Because as soon as the door to your hotel room closes, you know full well that Piotr Rasputin, the world’s most perfect boyfriend and gentleman extraordinare, is going to fuck your brains out.

You’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you all evening; you know damn well that it doesn’t matter that the dress you’re wearing isn’t a skin-hugger or a cleavage trap. To him, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world, and his desire for you isn’t something that’s solely stoked by how much skin you’re showing at a given moment.

(Which isn’t to say that showing skin doesn’t rev his engine. You’ve spent enough mornings figuring out how to walk again after prancing around in your underwear while he got ready for teaching to know that it does.)

You’ve also spent enough time being horny for and with Piotr Rasputin to know that he’s his own damn textbook. If he’s hungry for you and can’t get a fix right away, he still can’t keep his hands off of you. He’ll play with your hair, rub his thumb against the nape of your neck, splay his hands against the curves of your waist--

--or, if the two of you are in a car, he likes to put his hand on your thigh.

And you know that if his hand hits your thigh before your hand hits his, it’ll all be over. You’ll be too flustered and wound up to do anything that might drive him out of his skull.

And you really want to. He’s spent the whole day lavishing affection and time and gifts on you, and now you want to repay the favor and drive him out of his mind. Just a little.

You wait until he reaches the part of the drive that isn’t too horribly twisty or bendy --making him less likely to outright reject what you’ve got planned--and go for it. You put your hand on his thigh --midway between his knee and his hip, nothing too conspicuous to start--and let your head rest against his shoulder with a happy sigh. “Tonight was... amazing, Piotr. I can’t believe you actually thought of all this.”

He chuckles. “Contrary to popular belief, I think on fairly regular basis.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you say with a snort. “But no, really. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forget tonight.”

“That was the idea.”

“Stop brushing everything off and let me thank you, dammit.”

He laughs, full on. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Well, I want to. Seriously, you made me feel like a princess today. Or, I dunno, some sort of waitress that’s being seduced by a Russian crime lord.”

And that’s definitely the wine talking, because you wouldn’t have told him that otherwise, and you have to take a minute to check to make sure you’re not hitting a nerve, with what his mom’s history is like.

He’s still smiling though, amused. “Oh, really?”

You bite your lower lip and slide your hand up his thigh, squeezing the thick muscle there. “Yeah. You’ve pretty well swept me off my feet, babe.”

He shifts a little in his seat, which is how you know that you’ve got his attention with the placement of your hand. “The night is still young, dorogoy.”

“Yeah.” You go in for the kill, sliding your hand up his thigh and over to his crotch. “It is.”

He inhales sharply as you start rubbing at his cock through the fabric of his slacks. “Myshka, what are you doing?”

“Making the most of the night.”

His hips flex a little and his teeth come together with an audible click. “Y/N--”

“Eyes on the road, Piotr. This is what you get for driving me nuts all night.” You rub your palm against his half-hard member --proof that his mind is right alongside yours in the gutter--then bring in your other hand into play to undo his belt buckle and start working at the button and zipper on his pants.

“What--”

“I’m gonna make you lose your damn mind, Piotr.” And, with that, you manage to free his cock from his pants and briefs and lean over to put your mouth around his tip.

You don’t take things slow. You know that roadhead is definitely one of those things that falls into the category of ‘dangerous, do not try’ for Piotr, and that if you want to have any sort of impact on him before he calls you off --because you won’t push it after he asks you to stop, you respect him too much for that--you need to move fast.

So you do just that. You work his cock over with your mouth, using one hand to hold him steady at the base while you lick, kiss, and suck him to full mast--

And he’s not stopping you.

Piotr.

Isn’t.

Stopping.

You.

He’s groaning, panting in his seat, gripping the wheel like he’s trying to strangle it, pressing his foot down harder against the gas pedal--

But he’s not asking you to stop.

Your thighs clench together and you moan around your mouthful of his dick when you realize just how fucked you’re gonna be when you get back to your hotel room.

He moans and reaches down with one hand to grasp at your hair --but he isn’t pulling you off. “Myshka--”

“Both hands on the wheel, Piotr.”

He obliges with a keening noise at the back of his throat.

Piotr Rasputin. The world’s most perfect boyfriend, gentleman extraordinare, and putty in your hands.

Mouth.

Whatever.

You keep going until his hand comes down on your shoulder and he’s saying something, voice so wrecked and accent so thick you can barely understand him--

“We’re almost at hotel.”

You release his cock, more than fully hard now, from your mouth with a pop and set about tucking him back in his briefs and pants and getting everything back in order. You don’t need any extra explanation to know that he doesn’t want to get caught doing this, and you’re happy to oblige him on that.

Give and take. The foundation of any good relationship.

Before you know it, you’re pulling into the parking garage connected to the hotel, and Piotr’s parking the car and turning the engine off--

--and then he’s kissing you, growling as his tongue swipes between your lips and into your mouth.

You moan and arch into the kiss, fingers digging into the edge of your seat. Your heart’s pounding in your chest in time with the desire throbbing between your legs, and you simper when one of his hands slides up your thigh, making the skirt of your dress ruck up around your hips.

Seduced and drunk on love, swept away in a torrent of passion. God, what a way to go.

“Maybe we should head up to our room,” you manage when he breaks the kiss. You shiver as his thumb rubs up and down the length of your neck and smile prettily at him. “As fun as this is, I don’t think I can squeeze into the front seat with you. You kinda take up a lot of space, big guy.”

He kisses you again, mouth hot and wet against yours. “As you wish, moya lyubov’.”

The two of you barely refrain from sprinting through the hotel lobby.

You do power walk, though, and between your excited smile and the fact that there’s no good way to hide the hard on Piotr’s sporting, you’re pretty sure the staff know full well what the two of you’ll be doing for the rest of the night.

The elevator the two of you get on is completely empty, and for a moment you wonder what’ll happen when the doors close--

--and then you don’t have to wonder anymore because the doors do close and Piotr practically yanks you against his chest and kisses you hard.

You cling to him, head spinning with delight. His sudden lack of control or care for keeping up appearances has you reeling the best ways possible.

(Part of you realizes that it’s because the two of you are alone, and there’s no chance of Wade or one of the students catching you, and God what is married life even going to be like if the two of you wind up getting a whole house to yourselves?)

And then your back’s pressed against one of the elevator walls and Piotr’s mouth is on your neck.

You arch into him, run your fingers through his hair as he runs his tongue over the length of your neck, gasp his name when his hands skim down your back to cup your ass--

And then the elevator stops and the door opens to let on a handful of other passengers.

You let out a little yelp and giggle out apologies as you get a mixture of eyerolls and faintly amused smiles and move your hands to Piotr’s chest.

Piotr, for his part, just kisses your hair and moves his hands to your arms. He doesn’t turn away from you or even acknowledge the other people in the elevator --probably to save himself from melting with embarrassment.

You let your head rest against his chest, thrill of the moment ebbing into mildly embarrassed contentment. You let your eyes close as he rubs gentle circles against your shoulder, lightly massaging the muscle there, and just bask in his love for you.

And then the doors open again on your floor, and it’s back on.

The two of you laugh as you dart down the hall to your room. You’re pressed between the door and him, mouthing at his neck as he fumbles with his wallet for the room key. He’s got one of his thighs between your legs, holding you up and pining you in place.

You’re like a couple of teenagers, borderline making out in the hallway because you want each other so bad you can’t wait to get to the bed.

Piotr manages to get the keycard into the slot on his second try, and he picks you up with one arm and carries you into the hotel room.

You giggle as the door schincks shut, grab onto the lapels of his jacket as he sets you down and kiss him as he walks you back towards the bed. You wobble on your heels, low as they are, and break away so you can kick them off properly. “Hang on. These aren’t helping anything.”

When you look back at him, Piotr’s gazing at you like a dying man seeing civilization for the first time in years. His eyes are impossibly soft as he studies your face, full of love and reverence.

You sigh, happy, when he cups the side of your face with one of his massive hands and lean into his touch.

“I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”

“I love you more than anything too, Piotr.”

He presses his lips against yours once more, tender and gentle. He keeps kissing you as he moves his hands to your back, starting just above your ass and sliding them up to the collar of your dress. His fingers fidget with the zipper for a moment before he whispers a husky “May I?” against your lips.

The answer’s yes. The answer’s always yes.

You shiver against him as he slowly unzips your dress, goosebumps spreading across your skin as the dress falls into a pool of fabric around your feet, leaving you in your tights and underwear. You slide his jacket off his shoulders --and occupy yourself with undoing his tie when Piotr takes over so he can lay the jacket out neatly on the desk. You toss it across the room with an impish giggle, then focus on unbuttoning his shirt when he sighs.

“What is it with you and making messes?” he murmurs as he trails kisses down your cheek.

“What is it with you and organizing everything?”

He toes his shoes off --chuckles when you finish unbuttoning his shirt and toss it as far as you can, too--and slowly presses you back against the bed. “I guess we balance each other.”

“I’d say so.”

And you don’t say anything intelligible after that, because Piotr starts kissing your breasts and all coherent thought goes out of your mind.

You let out a soft sigh and arch your back off the bed so he can unclip your bra --and you promptly chuck it across the room.

He laughs. “Stop doing that.”

“Distract me better, then.”

It’s a challenge you know he’s more than capable of rising to.

His hands and mouth go to work, caressing and groping and licking and sucking at your breasts until your hips are rocking against the bed.

You whine as he gently teases one of your nipples with his tongue while tweaking the other between his forefinger and thumb. You thread your fingers through his hair, wriggling lower as you do, and gasp when you grind against his crotch.

He’s hard and straining against his dress pants, and he groans as he rocks his hips back against yours. “Bozhe moi --lyublyu…”

You wrap your legs around his hips as he starts grinding against you in earnest, mouth sucking a scattering of hickeys across your breasts. You clutch at his back, dig your nails in when he rubs against you just right. “Fuck.”

Piotr moves his mouth to your neck, but his hands move downwards until his fingers reach the stretchy waistband of your tights. He hooks his fingers around the elastic material --and then he’s sitting back and rolling the tights down your legs.

You yank your legs out of the tights and wriggle out of your underwear as fast as you can. “Pants off. Underwear, too.”

He chuckles as he shifts off the bed and starts working at his belt. “Impatient.”

“So what?” You crawl towards him and tug at his pants as he slides the belt out of the last loop. “Hurry up.”

He laughs softly and widens his stance a little to keep you from yanking his pants off. “Wait --wait. We need--” he retrieves a condom from one of his pockets “--we’ll be needing this.”

“Don’t care.” You tug at his pants until they’re halfway down his thighs, then straighten up on your knees and start kissing a trail up his chest.

“Y/N--”

“Fucking whatever, Piotr, just get undressed already!” You bite down --not too hard, but enough to prove your point--on the muscle between his neck and shoulder.

He growls --actually growls--and then he’s pushing you back against the mattress, nude, muscular body pressing against yours. “Patience.”

You squirm against him, trying to get any sort of relief for the ache between your legs. “No.”

He nips at your ear as one hand skins down your torso, towards where you both want it most. “You can do it.”

“The fuck I won’t--”

And then he’s sliding two fingers inside you and any complaints you might’ve had evaporate.

You moan as he curls his fingers against your g-spot and rock your hips against his hand. “Piotr!”

He chuckles. “Not complaining now, I see.”

You open your mouth to retort --and whine when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit. You pant as he rubs circles over your sensitive nub in time with the movements of his fingers against your walls. “Oh --fuck--baby, I’m gonna--”

He shushes you gently, kissing your hairline with a tenderness that belies the utter sinfulness of what his fingers are doing. “Just enjoy it.”

And enjoy it you do, right up until the point --and past the point, to be clear--when your toes curl and your eyes roll into the back of your head and you climax with a groan.

Piotr slows his movements, working you through the aftershocks as you pant and gasp, only sliding his fingers out when you push weakly at his arm.

You open your eyes just in time to see him sucking your juices off his fingers and moan. “Piotr --baby--just fuck me. Please.”

“What if I would rather make love to you?”

“I don’t care! Just get your dick in me ASAP!”

The two of you pause, and then you both start laughing.

You nuzzle your face against Piotr’s neck as he slumps on top of you, body shaking with laughter. “Did I really just say that?”

“Da.” He kisses your cheek. “You are… so ridiculous, myshka. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Piotr.” You arch your back as he presses his lips against yours, relishing the way your chest goes flush against his. Your hands skim up the planes of back, holding him to you as he thoroughly plunders your mouth with his tongue.

God, you love this. You love the way he kisses you, the way his body presses against yours, the way--

“I should probably put this on,” he says with a laugh and a vague gesture with the condom as he breaks the kiss. “Before we get carried away.”

You laugh with him and sit up. “Yeah. Here --let me.” You rip the foil packet open, then pause to wrap your hand around the shaft of his cock.

He’s already completely hard, but going the extra mile never hurt anyone.

You give him a few pumps, relishing the way he groans and jerks into your hand, then push at his chest. “Roll over.” You straddle his thighs when he does and carefully roll the condom over his cock. When you look up halfway through and realize he’s watching you, desire burning in his eyes, you duck your head bashfully. “Like what you see?”

“Always.”

You take the hand he holds out to you once you’re done putting the condom on him and let him help you get positioned. You can feel the head of his cock brushing your folds, prodding at your entrance--

And then you’re sinking onto him, and he’s filling you up, and everything else in the world other than the two of you and what you’re doing right here, right now ceases to be of any importance.

You whimper at the feeling of him, the stretch, the exquisite fullness, and rock your hips against his. “Piotr--”

His hands come up to grasp your hips, holding you tight but not stopping you. “Slow. Go slow.”

“Yeah --sure,” you pant as you plant your hands against his chest and --slowly--start to ride him. You take your time --you’ve got nothing else you need to do, other than him--and savor every inch of him, every shift of your walls against his member, every gasp and groan that leaves his lips.

You’ve got all night, just for the two of you. No obligations, no distractions. Just this room, this bed, and whatever the fuck the two of you feel like doing.

He moans underneath you, hips rolling up to meet yours as you pace quickens ever so slightly, and slides his hands back to grope at your ass. “Khorosho?”

Good?

You can’t help but smile; he always has to make sure you’re alright, that you’re enjoying yourself. You nod. “Yeah. You good?”

By way of answer, he lifts one hand to the back of your head and pulls you down for a kiss.

It’s a little awkward, given your height differences; he slides halfway out of you in the process, and you can’t really get him all the way back in your current position. You giggle a little --because it’s ridiculous and kinda funny, really--and brace one hand against his chest so you can reposition yourself and keep moving, as it were--

Piotr’s hold on the back of your head tightens, his other hand slides to the small of your back, and his hips snap up against yours. Hard.

Oh.

The hand of yours that’s not on his chest grips the pillow next to his head when he does it again, and you moan when he does it a third time--

And then the bed starts shaking as he starts doing it in earnest, pumping in and out of you in deep, even, strokes.

Well, if that’s what he wants to do, you’re not gonna stop him.

You squeeze your eyes shut and rock your hips back against his thrusts as best you can. He’s skimming your g-spot with each movement of his cock inside you; not enough to fully turn on the pleasure, but plenty to wind up you up and drive you completely insane.

His mouth is hot against your jaw and neck, and he’s murmuring --and occasionally groaning--a nonstop string of Russian against your skin. “Ty takaya krasivaya ... kazhdyy raz, kogda ya smotryu na tebya, moye serdtse bolit…”

You grit your teeth together and whine as the shaft of his cock just barely rubs against your g-spot for the umpteenth time. “Piotr --baby, please--”

He lets you up when you push against his chest this time, eyes burning as he watches you, steadies you, helps you get repositioned.

You tip your head back and moan, a mixture of pleasure and relief at finally getting pressure and friction right where you want it, as you start bouncing up and down on his cock. You grab his hands when they grip your hips and relocate them to your chest.

He takes the none-too-subtle hint with zero complaining and starts groping at your breasts, caressing and squeezing them before focusing on your nipples.

You gasp as a soft thrum of pleasure courses through you and nearly fall --not that he’d let you, he’ll always catch you. You brace yourself against his chest even harder, arching against his hands while your hips keep working against his.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build in the slow tightening of your core, in the urgency that’s buzzing underneath the pleasure. You pant as you roll your hips harder, faster, feeling sweat drip down your back.

For all your working out, you don’t quite have your boyfriend’s stamina --at least, not when it comes to doing all the heavy moving.

You barely have to gasp out two words before he’s taking care of you, holding your hips to his as he rolls so that you’re on your back and he’s positioned above you. Before he can start moving though, you swing your legs up so your calves are braced against his shoulders.

You’re flexible enough. You can handle it.

He groans when you say as much, face flushed and expression utterly debauched, and he shifts the two of you down the bed before letting more of his weight bear down on you, pressing your knees against your chest and effectively pinning you against the bed. Then, he adjusts his hips and slides all the way in.

You groan and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You thought you were full before, but clearly you were wrong. You completely stuffed now, filled to the brim and whatever other euphemisms erotica writers use to convey being full past the point of reason and believability. You could float away of the sensation, the satisfaction alone, completely lost to the world save for the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock buried deep inside you--

And, without fail, Piotr brings you back down to earth.

A simple kiss to the forehead is all it takes, and you’re back in the hotel room, back with him, able to hear what he’s saying--

“Khorosho?”

Good?

God help you, you love this man so much.

You nod, still too out of breath to make forming words a feasible goal.

He smiles softly, kisses you gently on the bridge of your nose --and snaps his hips against yours with a lack of hesitation that can only be described as ruthless.

You moan loudly as he starts taking you in earnest, then whine when you realize you can’t arch your back or writhe against him in this position. You’re utterly pinned down, completely at his mercy as he pumps himself in and out of you; even with your hands free, there’s not much you can do or reach, definitely not enough to distract from the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you.

You’re here to do one thing and one thing only: take.

You’re moaning with each thrust now, gasping as he works you towards your climax without hesitation or doubt. All you have to focus on is the pleasure you’re feeling.

It’s completely overwhelming. Too much despite the fact that you haven’t actually come yet. You’re drowning in it, going insane from it, choking on it as you take your boyfriend’s cock over and over and over and over…

What a fucking way to go --pun intended.

You let out a high-pitched mewl as he speeds up. You can tell he’s close from the way he’s swearing in Russian and gripping your hips; he’s quite the picture of focus, actually, mouth open and lips pulled back over his teeth as he tries to reign himself in, tries to get you off first.

Ever the fucking gentleman --pun intended again.

And then one of his thumbs is rubbing against your clit, and it’s all over.

You scream his name as you climax --noise complaints be damned, you can’t be assed to give a shit right now--and clutch at the bedspread as hard as you can. Your orgasm sweeps through you in waves, cresting and ebbing again and again--

And then he’s coming too, albeit quieter than you did. He groans your name and presses his hips flush against yours, rocking against you as he rides out his own orgasm.

The room goes silent, save for the sound of your mutually labored breathing.

And then he’s sliding out of you and collapsing next to you on the bed, seemingly as fucked out as you are.

You stretch with a groan and take a few deep breaths as you come down from it all. Your cunt’s still twitching from your release, but you find it in yourself to push through the haze of the afterglow and roll over to face him.

He’s already reaching for you, arms curling around your body and pulling you in so he can shield you with his warmth and love. He kisses the top of your head and pushes the errant locks of hair away from your face, smoothing them as he goes.

You let out a shaky breath, then sling an arm around his neck and kiss his cheek. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“And I love you, dorogoy.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pete.”

He huffs a gentle laugh. “It certainly is.”