#check out the body count game its awesome

[berryhobii]

Class In Session PT 2(jhs x reader)

Pairing: DanceInstructor!Jung Hoseok x Stripper!Black!Female!Reader

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), a sexy pole dance to Chris Brown’s Take You Down because that 3J performance still haunts me, a little nipple play, oral(f receiving), eating it from the back, dumbification, dirty talk, size kink, begging, BigD!Hoseok, Hoseok goes from shy and kind of nervous to daddy and in control, pet names(pretty girl, pretty), reader is called tiny by Hoseok but I didn’t really specify much, doggy style where reader is standing but bent over, reader is flexible, ankles behind ears position, a little clit play, clothed s*x?, unprotected s*x(don’t do this unless you’re sure and clean), creampies

A/N: This is pure filth with a little sugar sprinkled in🩵🩵Read Part 1 here. This can be read as a stand alone

~

“I always assumed you never invited me over because your house was a mess or something but this is a pretty good reason too.”

Hoseok marveled at the vertical pole that stood smack dab in your living room. He hadn’t even had a chance to really acknowledge any of your other furniture or the home cooked meal you were preparing him. His attention was immediately taken by this eye catcher.

Sheepishly chuckling, you turned off the stove and walked over to stand next to him.

“I thought it would be a little too…..hard to explain.”

“You know, I honestly don’t think I would have asked about it.” He grabbed the pole, yanking on it a little to check its sturdiness. “I probably would have just pretended not to see it.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have wanted to overstep. I think seeing this pole before we were official would have been too much.”

Tilting your head and crossing your arms, you stated, “You’ve literally seen me pole dance a bunch of times.”

“Yeah but that’s in a more professional setting. In private would have been a different story.”

At that moment, an idea struck you. One that should stamp your name in the history books. A Cheshire grin that matched your devious eyes spread on your face, unbeknownst to Hoseok who was still studying the pole.

“Do you want to see a routine I prepared for my next class?”

Hoseok’s heart could have leap out of his chest and ran the Boston marathon. It took everything in him to keep a straight face and not get down on his knees and praise you like the angel you were.

Swallowing, he tapped into his professional side, slowly turning his head to look at you before croaking out a, “sure.”

You could see right through him but decided not to pressure it.

“Awesome. You wait here. I’m gonna go change.”

He didn’t even have time to react before you were already gone.

Change?

~

Hoseok was sweating. He know he looked crazy from how he kept sitting on the couch, getting up, pacing, and then sitting back down. You’ve been in your room for less than 5 minutes and he felt like Jigsaw was about to come out of nowhere on that tricycle. This had to be some sort of game, right? You were just fooling around with him. Teasing, that’s all this was.

Then the clicking sound of your platforms rang in his ears, his entire body stiffening and and he knew this wasn’t a damn game!

His back was facing you but don’t think his rigid reaction had escaped your sharp eyes. Like you said before, Hoseok has seen you pole dance a bunch of times and a few of those times had been when you were alone. However, this would be like giving him his own personal little strip show.

Truthfully, after that fateful night where Hoseok found out everything, you didn’t stop being a stripper. You thought about it. Was your job more important than Hoseok? It payed the bills which was a necessity and Hoseok was your partner which was also important. He insisted that your job really didn’t bother him that much. While he still wasn’t super comfortable with the idea of his girlfriend flaunting her body in anyone’s face that wasn’t his own, he understood that it was still your job and he didn’t want to be that guy who told you how to make your money.

At least you only went twice a week and he accompanied you everytime just to keep an eye on you and any brazen drunkard who was stupid enough to cross the line. You assured him that the club’s security was very protective and there was even a barrier between the stage and the club goers. That reassurance still didn’t stop him from sitting off just to to side of the stage during your sets.

Don’t worry though, you always made sure to flash him a little extra whenever you rounded the side he was on. That let him know that all these people could look(ugh) but you were going home with him at the end of the night.

Once you were close enough to him, your hand reached out to run across his shoulders. “You okay, baby?” The low purr of your voice made him shiver, goosebumps pebbling across his skin.

“Y-yeah.”

“Why don’t you sit down?”

Yes. He should sit down because your touch and voice were about to take his knees clean out the frame.

Gulping in an attempt to quench his dry throat, he stiffly moved to the couch.

And the sight that met him when he finally turned around was enough to make him want to pay all of your bills for the rest of your life. Fuck that job. He’d throw money at you right now if it meant you’d be his personal stripper.

Clad in a light purple nylon romper that was practically see through with all the purposefully placed cut outs that allowed him to see practically every inch of your skin, same colored platforms on your feet and probably the tiniest white thong that he’s ever seen in his life.

He’s never gotten hard so fast. Thank goodness he was wearing sweats because he could have split the zipper on a pair of jeans from the hard on he was sporting.

Smirking, you walked over to the coffee table to retrieve your phone and hooked it to your Bluetooth speaker. From that first guitar riff of Take You Down, Hoseok was about ready to explode.

Placing your phone back down, you sauntered over to the pole, grabbing it with both hands before starting your routine.

Hoseok’s eyes followed your every movement; from the dip of your spine when you bent over to the ripples of your ass and the curves of your breasts. And whenever you bent over, he’d get an HD view of how your cunt practically suffocated against that sorry excuse for a thong. And you were going to be teaching this to a class? He’d be damned.

The thud of your platforms when you touched the floor after spinning in the air for a little sounded incredibly loud in his ears. The song had drawn to a close meaning the end of your routine, right? He could finally breathe, right? RIGHT?!

Like a lion stalking its prey, you strode over to where he sat, your devious and cat like eyes staring him down like you were about to devour him.

His fingers twitched when you finally reached him, a light sweat had broken out at the back of his neck and his heart was thudding a thousand miles a minute. Your feminine perfume blinded his senses and the touch of your hands on his shoulders made him feel hot all over.

Your fingertips lightly trailed down his jawline to his bobbing Adam’s apple, eye contact never breaking as you leaned closer to where your lips were just a breath away.

“What’d you think?”

What did he think?! Was that a rhetorical question? You looked like sex on legs and just spun around a pole to a song that people made babies to and you want to know what he thought?!

“Don’t teach your class that.”

You teasingly smiled with a tilt of your head. “Why not?”

With a quickness, Hoseok was yanking you down on his lap, your warm body pressed right against his. He wasted no time in pulling you in for a breath stealing kiss, a rough one that had you heating up like a pot of boiling water.

He released your lips with a ‘pop’, your chest heaving and eyes slightly glazed over from the arousal that had been simmering in your belly since you started.

“Because I only want you to perform it for me.”

Running your hands up the back of his neck and through his hair, you whispered, “private dances are extra.”

Fuck it.

Your giggles were boisterous when he hoisted you up, your feet locking behind his back. His lips attacked your collarbone and neck, hands gripping your ass like his personal stress ball.

Tossing you down on the bed, he was all over you, kissing and touching any piece of skin he could reach.

“You’re so pretty. My pretty girl. So small and cute.” He whispered lovingly against the skin of your neck, hands trailing up and down your sides.

A flutter of heat burst in your tummy under the endearment, your response just a wide smile and a tender caress of your fingers up the nape of his neck. Was this how falling in love felt? If so, you wished you could have it forever. Only with him….

Nimble fingers traveled from your sides to your barely covered breasts, velvety brown nipples peeking out through the material of your romper. A pleasurable sigh fell from your lips when his thumbs ran across them, the stimulation progressively hardening them to stiff peaks. His kisses went from your neck, across your collarbone and down to your nipples to suck one into his mouth.

He made sure to give the other attention, pinching and rolling the bud between his thumb and index finger before switching sides. You couldn’t stop squirming under his ministrations, part from the tingling pleasure of him playing with your nipples and the other part from the throbbing of your pussy as arousal boiled in your belly.

“Hoseok….”

Hoseok chuckled lowly at your whiny tone. Releasing your nipple with a ‘pop’, his glittering eyes zoned in on your beautiful face; your pouting lips and almond shaped eyes that were practically begging for him.

Getting up, he backed up off of the bed. You sat up on your elbows, eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“Stand up.” He demands, holding out his hand for you. You took it, standing on your high heeled feet. Suddenly, you were turned around, a hand pushing your shoulder blades down until you were bent over. He groaned at how easily you moved, mentally sending praises to the flexibility gods. Dropping to his knees, his warm palms met your hips and smoothed over the curve of your ass. His thumbs dug into the skin of your inner thighs, eyes taking in the imprint of your cunt and the patch of wetness that soaked your tiny thong.

“How much did this romper cost?” He randomly asked.

You were confused but answered regardless. “Uhhhh like $30?”

“I’ll get you another one.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked as Hoseok gripped your romper and pulled, ripping it off with a loud sound. Your surprised gasp melted into a moan as his hands pulled your panties to the side to suck your clit into his hot mouth .

Your body shudders, that burning feeling climbing and climbing as Hoseok’s tongue becomes more firm and precise on your already needy clit. You don’t think you’ve ever gotten this close so fast. Hoseok must really have an affect on you.

He would probably be thinking the same thing the way he was moaning and slurping up every bit of wetness your cunt offered. He’s been wanting to get his hands on you for weeks but he’s been taking it slow as it not pressure you. But now that he’s had a taste, he’s never letting you go.

Cock straining in his jeans, he pulled away from your pussy, lips and chin shining with your slick. He slapped you on the ass a few times for good measure, your hips wiggling side to side and enticing him even more if possible.

“Fuck, put it in, Hoseok.” Your desperate voice begged.

A part of him wanted to tease you a little more but considering he was just as needy as you, he decided to pocket it for another time. He didn’t even bother taking his pants all the way off, just yanking them down until his cock was freed. Hand gripping his cock, he lined up with your waiting entrance.

The stretch burned in the best way, the air getting squeezed out of your lungs as he pushed past your tight ring of muscles.

Honestly, you already knew Hoseok was packing when you met him. He was wearing sweats the first time you met him and you definitely caught sight of the way his print pressed against the material when you had walked in on him practicing. There were also those few times you’ve caught him adjusting himself in his jeans. You tried hard to ignore it, not wanting to be seen as thirsty especially once he found out what your job was but that was easier said than done. Hoseok was smoking hot; fit, handsome and he had a big dick? It was like all of your prayers had been answered and now you were about to get your back blown out by him? It almost felt too good to be true. Way too good.

Gritting his teeth at the way your pulsing walls constricted around him, he paused, “you gotta relax, baby or I won’t be able to stretch this little pussy out like it deserves.” His dirty talk only made you tighten up more, his voice scratching your brain just right.

You tried to regulate your breathing, hands gripping the sheets as a way to keep you from floating away.

“Y-you’re so b-big….ahhh. I can’t….”

“Does it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head in response.

Readjusting his feet, he gripped both sides of your waist and took a deep breath before yanking your hips back. A scream ripped from your throat as his cock filled you all the way up, the head pressing incredibly close to your cervix and against every hidden spot in your clenching heat.

Mouth dropped open, you tried to form words but nothing would come out but airy gasps and strangled inhales.

Hoseok was barely holding on himself—your tight walls made it almost hard to move and he could feel your wetness already leaking down his balls. It was embarrassing how close he was to busting his load and you’ve barely done anything.

Pulling back halfway, he gave you a few experimental thrusts, your leaking arousal improving the fluidity of the glide through your walls. Even these half strokes were throwing you for a loop, pleasure burning across your skin and stirring in your belly until you felt ready to cum already.

Hands digging into your hips, Hoseok started up a fast pace, his hips clapping off your ass with a resounding smack. Your hands bunched up the sheets, face buried in the bed as you let out moans and calls of his name.

Hoseok’s head hung low as he stuffed you full, trying so hard to hold himself back but the way your cunt was trying to break his cock off was making it difficult. Paired with your moans and the visual of your bent over for him and he was ready to ascend.

Weakly turning your head, you looked at him your watery eyes. “Hoseok, ‘m gonna cum.”

Fuck.

Pulling out of you, he roughly maneuvered your body until you were on your back. His cock throbbed at the sight of your heaving chest and spit soaked lips—ripped up romper and high heels just adding to the visual. He grabbed your ankles and bent your legs back before instructing you to, “hold them”.

Deciding to take it a step further, you bent your legs even further, bringing your arms behind your knees until your ankles were effectively locked behind your head.

Hoseok swore he heard angels singing. Your glistening cunt and winking ass were on display for him like a fucking full coarse meal and he was about to dig in. Kicking his pants the rest of the way off, he climbed onto the bed, lifting you up a bit so that your ass would rest on the tops of his thighs.

He grabbed his stiff cock, slapping it against your wet pussy a few times. You moaned at the sharp sting against your clit, greedy hole spilling out more slick in anticipation. With your hands free, you could reach down, spreading your slippery lips open for him.

With a flutter of your lashes, you begged again, “Seokie….please put it in.”

With a smug grin, he lined up before slowly pushing inside. You gasped, mouth dropping and eyes focused on how your tiny hole stretched to accommodate him. The sight was enough to send you head first into a body shaking orgasm.

Hoseok felt the way you clenched impossibly tight, your head falling back against your feet only to return upright.

Squeezing the meat of your thighs, he sank the rest of the way inside. “Did your little cunt just cum, hmm? Just from me filling you up, my pretty girl?” Pulling back, he thrusted inside once, twice, three times knocking staggered moans out of you with each push and pull. With this position, he seemed to reach even deeper to the point where you swore he was rearranging your guts.

His hips sped up a bit, stroking you long and deep for you to feel every inch he had to offer you. Everything was so wet and hot, the squelching sounds of your cunt spurring him on until you were cumming again.

Drool leaked out of the side of your mouth to trail down your chin, tears finally spilling over as Hoseok sent you spiraling. You felt like his cock was all the way in your throat, invading every space in your body until you could only think of him.

Hoseok’s grunts and moans clashed against your whimpers and cries of his name, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every push of his hips. The sight of your blissful and fucked stupid face making him want to devour you.

Grabbing your face with one hand, he squeezed your cheeks until your lips puckered, your unfocused eyes staring up at him. “This tiny cunt is squeezing me so tight. It’s all mine, isn’t it? Those fuckers at your job can watch but who gets to fuck you? Answer me.”

“Y-you! It’s yours!” You babbled as your body shook with yet another orgasm. The sheets were definitely ruined by now but you could worry about that when Hoseok was done knocking your brain loose.

His hips sped up again, carving his cock into your stomach where you’d never forget. “That’s right. It’s mine. A-all mine.”

Bringing your hand down, you began to rub at your clit in fast circles, alternating rubbing and slapping it a few times and propelling yourself into yet another orgasm but this one was so strong that your vision actually went black for a second.

Hoseok wasn’t far behind, thrusting his hips a few more times before burying himself all the way inside your luscious walls and emptying his cum into you. He weakly thrusted a few more times before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

You untangled yourself from your contorted position, legs falling limply as you both struggled to regain your breaths.

After a few moments, Hoseok spoke up. “Oh my god. That was…..amazing.”

Your giggle made him smile. “That was so cliche and cheesy.” You moved around to grab his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Just being honest.”

You hummed, turning over on your side to face him. He turned his head to the side, captivating brown eyes locking with yours.

“It was really good for me too.”

He brought your hands up to place a kiss on the back of yours, that dazzling smile lighting up his face. Those flutters you had earlier breaking out into full blown butterflies, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed upon the man who had stolen your heart. Now you knew, this is was falling in love felt like and it felt so wonderful and light and….

Perfect.

[tarhonk]

AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS THEORY ALERT

WEEOO WEEOO THEORY ALERT

So this is gonna connect to that "everyone in the circus worked for C&A" theory

Alright so just yesterday Glitch posted this in the community tab on their youtube channel

Despite it being funny af I couldn't help but notice how much 80's memorabilia was in here. All these items (minus the digital circus stuff) were very popular or invented in the mid 80's.

So I decided to check back on that scene where Pomni is running through the exits. Specifically that moment where she stares at the desk and I noticed something.

That straight up looks like an old and dirty Commodore 64

All this equipment just screams 80's to me. Everything in that office seemed like stuff from the 80's.

And I haven't seen anyone else talk about these but I noticed a few other things

One

We see the headset that all the characters have put on to get in the circus right on the desk.

Two

We see several computers on as Pomni runs past them. I counted 4 but that light on the floor in the first picture could be a 5th. In that case, that's one for each human currently not abstracted in the circus, minus Pomni. And what do we see when Pomni is back in the circus at the end of the pilot?

The computer she had a mental breakdown over is now on.

She's back online

Finally, three

A poster can be seen in the back that seems like the same colors as the digital circus logo. This could definitely be a hidden reference to something I don't know but this looks very digital circus-y to me.

So with all that, here's what i'm adding on to the office theory.

C&A (Caine & Abel) was a video game company in the 80's that was experimenting with creating a virtual reality headset for gaming purposes. The world of gaming had slowly begun to rise in popularity, and they decided to stay on top of this trend with a very ambitious strategy. VR gaming was just beginning to make a statement in the world as well, so the C&A company began working on something new.

They create this idea for a wacky game called The Amazing Digital Circus. A VR game where you'd get an avatar and go on adventures lead by a ringmaster character. All was going well, but at some point during development, something (who knows what) went wrong, causing anyone who wears the headset to have their consciousness sucked into the game. They'd lose the memories of their lives, only knowing that they were human, and now they're stuck there forever.

This was less of a theory and more of pointing out stuff that I haven't seen people mention yet, but I think its useful.

Please feel free to add on with theories on how you think their bodies are affected in the real world and stuff about the digital circus. Expand upon this please. I feel like i'm onto something.

EDIT: https://www.glitchprod.com/thewackywatch

Just remembered that the wacky watch commercial proves like everything I said.

They reveal it on an 80's computer

"New experimental hardware that gets you awesome visuals and lifelike audio" experimenting with VR!!!!!!

I'm going crazy

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hey! I was hoping for a like teen male reader with Joel Miller? Platonic father-son type of relationship obviously. Just one where the reader is kinda a stand in for Ellie plot wise but come's out to Joel as trans(ftm)

No pressure ofc:] <33

A/N YK ITS BEEN A WHILE FOR THAT FATHER!JOEL FIC BUT HEY I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO DO IT and thank YOU so much friend for requesting it and putting my gears to work! Little reminder; a lot of this is based off of HBO tlou more so than the game, and i will also add bits of my experience as a trans teen needing an actual good father figure! (don't we all-). Btw, i don't know how guns work and how trucks work so please enjoy my misinterpretation of them, and i have this image of Joel in my head where he’s supportive in a toxic masculine way, sorry! Anyhow, as usual I apologize for any mistakes, english is my second language. Enjoy the fic friends! <3

Cargo.

Tags: HBOJoel and Male!reader, Joel and teen!reader, Father!Joel, Tess, Marlene, Platonic Relationship, ftm!reader, Misuse of Pronouns, coming out, Canon-Typical violence, sarcastic!Joel, Sassy!Reader, Joel cares in a southern way.

It wasn't your brightest idea, really, but it beats being chained to a radiator. And you do miss Tess and hope she’s up there fighting and being the strong woman she is, but now you're stuck with Joel and a boring road ahead of you.

—

All of this is so dumb.

Joining the Fireflies was dumb. Thinking the Fireflies would help you was dumber. 

Now you're currently stuck, well, held captive in an apartment room, handcuffed to a radiator that won't budge, and a constant Firefly guard outside the room. Awesome, wonder how you got into this situation. And worse of all, those bland food they give you really isn't their deal. Seriously, you'd think they know they're keeping a kid and not a hamster inside a cage. 

You huff, turning to try and pull at the chains again. Putting all of your body weight into it, you lean back and grunt, before a stale water droplet lands on your face. "Ugh! You fucker!"

You huff, opting to sit down again and mumble more curses to whatever leaked upstairs. Obviously, it won't work, but the scraping of metal is enough to keep you entertained. And the possibility of escaping is even more entertaining, you scoff. 

Suddenly, you hear the lock on the door turn, keys dangling, thinking it was one of the guards here to check you, you begin counting.

"One, two, three, four…" Before a lady with curly hair, sharp eyes and an unreadable face walks in instead of the guys. Your eyes quickly dart to the bag she's holding, your backpack. 

She walks in causally, stopping on the arch in the middle of the room. You level her with a stare, hand ready to grab at anything. She throws the pack to your legs and you quickly scramble for it, pulling out the blade you stashed inside and pointing the business end to the woman making her way closer. 

She sits beside you, and you shift just a bit away. 

"You're not scared." As a statement. she gives you a small shake. "Then unlock me."

"How about we start with a 'thank you'?" 

"For what?" I roll my eyes, she quickly interjects, her voice level. 

"For saving your life. I am the one that told them not to shoot you, if you recall."

"Yeah, yeah…" I grumble, putting my switchblade back into its safety. But that's exactly what you've been wondering all those days, her choice. "Why did you stop them?"

"We'll get to that," She reaches for your hand and you quickly pull away, both hands on your blade. She sighs, revealing the small key to your line of sight, and you glare at her, before reluctantly giving her the hand with the chains around. She twists the key, releasing you of your bind, and you instinctively rub the marks it left. 

"So, Evan, how're you feeling?" You wince slightly. That name shouldn't really be the one you blurted out when those guards questioned you, beats your birth name at least.

"The same," You shrug. a beat passes, a heavy silence in the room making you squirm. "Is it gonna happen?"

"No," She answers simply.

"So can I go?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"I won't tell anyone about this, I swear." You push, making eye contact with her, trying to get your point across. 

"Then where would you go? Back to FEDRA military school?" You huff. "What, you're that anxious to be a soldier?" 

"You think I chose that place?" You bite back. "They put me there since I was a baby. It's for orphans."

"'They' didn't put you there," She glares at you, making you retract slightly. "I did. Ellie." 

Then she uttered the name you loathed. You roll your eyes, lips turned into a snarl before you snapped back "You're my fucking mom or something?"

"Do I look like your mom." You don't know, many possibilities to maybe be it. Maybe not. 

"Nooo, you do not." You opted instead. "And no, it's actually…" You gave her your name. Your actual preferred name, not whatever your parents decided was best. She only stared, almost like she wanted to retort, like she knew something you didn't within her dark eyes. 

"Alright, sure," Instead, she answered. "My name is Marlene. I'm the leader of the Fireflies in the Boston QZ." 

"Why would a terrorist dump me with FEDRA?" You snarl.

"Because that's where you’ll be safest, and you were safe, until you decided to sneak out." She quickly retorted. "And 'Terrorist'?"

"Was Riley a terrorist?" Your eyes snap to her, another boiling rage almost simmers over. It would be so easy to embed the blade you're still holding onto her neck, maybe slice it and watch as warm blood flows and paint your hands red. She'd probably deserved it. In what way was she allowed to bring up the only person who loves you for you like that?

but instead it simmers down to pain. Another twist at the knife already pushing at those deep wounds. Your eyes break away from Marlenes to around the room, to the floorboard that chips away from neglect. You gulp, blinking the annoying tears making their presence known, taking in shaky lungfuls. Exhaling slowly, you could see the edges of your vision blurring, before you look at Marlene again. Your mouth opens, yet pushing your vocal cords to work seems harder than it used to. You take another inhale, gulping down those dead feelings, then finally meet her steel eyes again. She has the gall to look mildly sympathetic. 

"Why won't you let me go home?" Your voice wavers slightly. 

She exhales, eyes softening slightly. It hurts for you to see. "Because you have a greater purpose than any of us could've ever imagined." she says.

"So we're leaving tonight, and were taking you with us," 

The door opens again, and that familiar Firefly voice calls. "He's here."

"Five minutes," Marlene requested, and they nodded, closing the door. She turns back to you She shifts so her body is angled towards you, and you sit up straighter against the steel bars behind you. 

"What I'm about to tell you can not be repeated to anyone. Because if you do, I assure you," She stares. "You will die."

—

"Ow! Fuck…" The man stands before you, gun aimed at your head as you huff back the breath he knocked out of you. Steps behind her, a woman with pulled-back hair stands, the same cautious eyes scanning you, then back to Marlene at the end of the hallways. Maybe ambushing him wasn't your brightest idea, now that he's stepped on your blade. They seem to know each other. 

Marlene calls your name, her tone a try of soothing. Then she calls again, demanding, finally breaking eye contact with this 'Joel' guy and turning to her. That's when you spot the wound, bleeding at her side and it looks bad. "Oh shit-"

"No, it's okay. I'll be alright." She reassures you. "And you can't be stupid like this," She scolds. 

"So this is who Robert screwed us over with?" You turn to see a woman as she stands steps away from the man. "The Che Guevara of Boston?" 

"Well war must be pretty shitty for you to be buyin' from scumbags like him." Marlene replies with an eerily steady tone. 

"Yeah it kinda has been," She calls back. "The merch was bad, and he obviously didn't take 'Fuck off' for an answer." All the while you glared daggers at the man, eyeing your blade still beneath his boot.

"Gimme my knife back." You snarl. 

"What do you need a car battery for?" The man asks, before I try to steal my blade back and the cock of a gun startles me, he's back to aiming at me. "Don't." I quickly raise my arms up-

"Not at her," Marlene calls, both her gun and the lady beside her aimed at the man.  "Point it at me." 

Joel raises his brows in warning, before he slowly turns and aims back to Marlene. “And to answer your question, i need it for a better reason than you do,”

“No offense but Tommy’s just one man, It's our business to know things-”

“‘Know things’,” Joel bites. “You're the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me.”

“Okay Joel, that was a lot of gunfire- FEDRA’s gonna be on the way.” Kim reminds. “I know.” Marlene looks away, then down to you where you pull slightly at the definitely strained shoulder from the fall earlier. She bites her lip. “We're gonna move her out of the zone tonight. But we won't make it anywhere like this, not for a while.”

Joel looks down at you, scruffed hair and a scar jutting from his brow. “So now I'm thinkin’, you're gonna do it.”

“The hell we are.” Joel says in unison as you say;

“I’m not goin’ with them!” You shout back.

Kim turns to Marlene, holding her wound. “Let me take her.”

“Tess, we don't have time for this.” The man turns to ‘Tess’.

“Oh you don't have time-” 

“What is she to you?” Tess calls.

“To you? She’s cargo.” Marlene interjects.

“We don't smuggle people. Sorry.” Joel replies sharply.

“I can do it-”

“Kim, you don't have a fuckin’ ear on your fuckin’ head, could you please?” Marlene scrunches her face, Kim deflates as she meets eyes with you, before she looks away again. Marlene inhales a ragged breath, before she sighs. “There's a team of Fireflies waiting for her at the old State House-”

Jeol opens his mouth but Marlene continues; “I know what's out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason.” She takes a breath. “But now we don't have a truck, i don't have a squadron, FEDRA’s five minutes away, what i do have is you.” She pauses, eyes fleeting from Joel's to Tess’.

“And I know what you're both capable of. For better or worse.”

Joel’s hand tightens around the gun, making you gulp, looking back at the woman she’s ready to pull her claws out too. You turn to Marlene, a shake in your voice as you say, “What are they capable of?”

“You get her there safely, and they’ll give you what you need. Not just the battery, the whole thing. Fueled up trucks, guns, supplies, all of it.” Marlene regards them both. “I swear.”  

You watch as the man blinks, then he turns to Tess for a brief moment before she nods her head, angling behind her, he nods curtly. Joel stares you down again, and as he lifts his leg it was your chance to swiftly reach and cut- before he kicked your knife far from your reach. “Asshole!”

Marlene regards you with a stare, when you only huffed and rub at your shoulder again.

The two strangers whisper from the other end of the hall, too far away for you to hear anything coherent. They share looks and assess both you and Marlene, before they turn back to their circle. The scene reminds you of something out of FEDRA school, back when those girls would whisper rumors about you or Riley, about you in particular usually. You narrow your eyes when Joel glances at you. He only narrows his and returns to Tess. 

“Y'all talk it through but please remember I'm bleeding out!” Marlene announces. The pair pauses, before Tess turns.

“Okay, here's the deal.” She walks languidly and stands by your side. “We’ll get her to your crew at the state house, but before we hand her over, they give us everything we want.”

“If not, we kill her, then and there.”

“Deal.” Marlene nods. You snap at her, eyes wide. 

“Really? That fast?”

“You are all that matters. The team won't jeopardize that.” You sigh, breaking eye contact with her. “Remember what I told you? Now go get your backpack.”

You huff, looking back at the woman that promises you safety, a pinch of pain snaps through your heart. “Now.” She adds your name, at which you grumble and stand to retrieve your pack.

Hauling the thing onto your back, you stand in the corridor again, now closer to the pair. “Okay, let's go.” Tess turns, already making her way out.

You stare back at Marlene, angry and disappointed and hurt but she nods, encouraging you to follow the woman you’ve only seen threaten your ticket out of here. You narrow your eyes, before you turn and shoulder-check Joel before grabbing your knife, pocketing it and not looking back. You briefly hear Marlene's fading voice, “Joel, don't fuck this up. Please.”

Before heavy boots follow behind you and you reach the door with Tess.

—

You find yourself missing Tess already. It didn't take long for you to bury the grief down, in a world like this there's no reason to get sentimental. But with the little time you and her got along, better than you got along with Jeol at least, she reminds you of that older student that was nice to you. The one that offered gum once and told you she liked your hair. She then got admitted to join FEDRA’s soldiers. That was the end of that, and so was Tess.

Through your time hiking with Joel, he’s told you about his scar and the reason you two are going to Frank and Bill’s, he explains to you about the remnants of a plane you two passed. He explains the mundanity of it, the expensive sandwich people would buy but your eyes only sparkle with wonder. He rolls his eyes as you two continue walking to the run-down gas station where he kept a stash of supplies. 

Once the two of you arrived at the fenced little town, Joel told you to get cleaned up while he started the car. So you snagged the body tape that was laying in the medicine cabinet and took the first hot shower since forever ago.

You sigh as the water hits your skin, scrubbing the grime and dirt from days of buildup into the drain. You made sure to wash your hair too. As you dry off and make sure your hair is in a towel, you put on the body tape before grabbing the shirt and hoodie you pulled from the clothes boxes. The layers keep your chest hidden and you smile as you take in yourself from the mirror. Clean and dry hair, flat chest and clean face. Though the scar makes you look tougher, you grin to yourself. Lastly, you put deodorant on before putting on the jacket you set aside earlier.

When Joel was finished with the car and took his shower, you checked around the place, pulling and prodding at furniture that piqued your interest. Your eyes widen when you pull down a drawer to reveal a loaded gun. You quickly stuff it inside your bag when you hear Joel coming down the stairs.

“Well don't you look nice,” You grin, making the older man huff.

“Come on,”

—

When the two of you take off from the guarded houses, it takes another 2 hours before the car reaches an abandoned gas station and Joel pulls to the side.

“I'm going to get fuel, you.” He stares at you. “Don't wander off, stay close,”

“Sure,” You huff, jumping out of the car to look around. The station seemed to host a convenience store, the broken glass door both inviting and menacing. 

Looking back as Joel picks out a fuel canister from the trunk, you begin walking to the abandoned building. You can feel Joel's eyes following your back, knowing he's putting you in his line of sight. 

Careful with the glass door, you walk through the threshold and look around. Empty shelves, scattered and definitely expired products, old posters that are peeling. You gander at the opened register, sighing knowing that someone probably stole from it before running off somewhere. reaching the back of the store, a bathroom door peeks open. 

The hinges creak as you step inside, cautious for any infected until your eyes track to the exposed ceiling, sunlight cascading through the giant hole and the cracks surrounding it.

"Cool…" You grin, amazed by the rays that have made their way inside. The humidity from the toilets must've generated the amount of foliage that grew inside the stalls, judging from the green bushes and fungi that grew—who knew FEDRA school actually gave you some information. 

When you turn, you jump a bit when you see your reflection, a cracked mirror in front of you. You scoff, looking into the glass where you stand. There you are, a thick jacket over your body while your hair has started to ruffle a bit. You drop your bag and reach for the gun, pulling it out. The safety is in place, and you did check the bullets earlier when Joe wasn't looking. It felt heavy in your hand, the piece of metal capable of taking lives, and saving them. You mull over it, before you pull it in front of you, the mirror reflects back the image of you holding the gun against yourself, a hardened face like all those soldiers had. You pull the safety back.

“Pew, pew,” You mimic a gun firing. “Pew.” 

Staring back into your eyes, darkened from the minimal lighting in the environment. There's a bit of your hair covering your face before you huff it away and bring back the gun. Clicking the safety back, you pull out the cartridge to find it full, of course. The barrel is a bit harder to pull, but when it does go off a bullet clatters to the ground. It clangs and you hurry to pick it up, hearing for any indication that Joel might hear it. 

A beat passes and you release a relieved sigh. Putting the bullet and cartridge on the sink, you stare at the empty gun, before clicking the safety off and aiming at yourself again. You grin, closing one eye as if aiming and clicking.

Nothing shoots out, but you triumphant smile either way. 

Putting the bullets back in and making sure the safety was on, you stuff the gun back inside your bag before you head outside. 

You approached a hunched Joel, shoving a plastic tube into a car’s fuel tank, already acknowledging you in front of him. “We have to do this every hour?”

“Gas breaks down over time,” He continues to feed the tube in. “This stuff’s almost water.”

“Back in the day, we’d drive ten, twenty hours on one tank. You could go anywhere,”

“So where’d you go?” You watch Joel stuff a ball of fabric into the hole. He pauses for a second, meeting your eyes before he looks back down.

“Pretty much anywhere,” Then he blows into another tube. The clear tube fills with gas and it flows into the canister that’ll hold it. You stare at the technique with fascination.

“Nice! How does that work?” You approach the can.

“It's a siphon. It’s when liquid… travels against gravity,” Joel pauses as he watches you smirk. “Because pressure-”

“You don't know,” You grin.

“I know it works.” He insists, making you chuckle as you turn your back to him. “No wanderin’.” 

You groan, returning in front of Joel where he's still ‘siphon’-ing the gasoline. He’s busy with his work, when you get a bright idea. “Okay,” You grin.

You pull out the one book that’ll cure your boredom. “Your fault then,” 

“Doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationary,” Joel fixes you with a stare, a little dent between his brows when you giggle. 

“‘No Pun Intended, Volume too,’ By Will Livingston. Get it? ‘T-o-o’, like two O’s,” 

“Jesus,” Jeol grunts when you laugh again. 

“What did the mermaid wear to her math class?” You grin widely while Joel straightens his shirt, staring blankly back at you as you slowly lean forward, urging him to answer. “An algae bra!” 

You continue to laugh, both at the joke and at Joel's face, before you continue. “I stayed up all night-”

“No-”

“Wondering where the sun went, and then it dawned on me!”

Joel sighs and leans on the deserted car. “Feel free to wait in the car.”

“Okay, but just know,” You display the book to the exasperated man. “You can't escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back,” 

He only rolls his eyes as you giggle and haul your pack, walking to where the truck is parked. Another half an hour passes before you hear the crunch of Joel's boots and the shift as he puts the canister on the truck's trunk, and slides back inside. You were lounging in the back seat when he started the engine, then drove out of the abandoned station. 

The car moves past a couple of massive trucks, where you quickly sit up and stare at them as you both pass by. 

“Must’ve been some truck,” You stare, intrigued.

“Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on them and clear the roads for their tanks and such,”

“Whoa! I wanna see a tank!” 

“You will,” Joel replies, a bit bitten off as he stares out into the road. You prompted to look around instead, pulling a shiny something from the back of the passenger seat. A tape, ‘Hank Williams’ was written on top.

“Got somethin’,” You tap Joel's shoulder with it as you lean between the seats. “Here, this make you all nostalgic?”

Joel takes the tape, looking it over, tapping on it. “This is actually before my time,”

“Great,” You sit back when you spot Joel putting the tape into the player. 

“It’s a winner though,” He presses play and a guitar melody starts to strum, filling the car. You grin as the music starts, before you start to look around again, pulling another thing from the floor.

“Oh man, go somethin’ else,” You grin, flipping it open. You spotted Joel's eye from the rearview and he seems to have spotted the front of the magazine.

“It’s uh- light on the reading, But it has some interesting pictures,” Joel could practically break his neck with the way he turns, eyes wide as he sees you flipping away.

“No, no, no put that back. That’s not for- kid come on-” 

Your eyes scan the pictures, pulling an extended one where your jaw dramatically stops. “How would he even walk around with that thing?!” 

“Please get rid of it.”

“Hold your horses, I wanna see these cool ‘examples’!” You giggle, flipping to another page when Joel only sighs. His eyes are back on the road when you smirk with an idea. “Why are all these pages stuck together?”

“Uh…” The man is either worried he’ll say the wrong word or confuse you more with an answer, faltering and searching for more words only for you to grin.

“Oh i’m just fuckin’ with ya,” You smack the back of his seat lightly. You pull down the window, feeling the gust of wind as the car drives through the dried fields, before you throw the magazine out of the window and into the wild. “Bye-bye dude!” 

Time passes and so does the scenery. From dried fields, to cows roaming the pastures, to abandoned roller coasters. And Joel was right, you did pass by tanks, abandoned and vines had made their home in it, a somber reminder of the past. You feel a shiver run up your arm when the car passes those big and rusted weapons, before you look away and focus on the road instead. The car passes rows and rows of trailers, a resting area for truckers back in the day, Joel explained when you asked. 

Soon, the road turns into a forest, and the last of the cassette dies down, filling the car with silence. “Alright, that's enough for today,” 

Joel presses at the radio where the tape escapes and he puts it back down, then he turns into a clearing where the truck treks through green grass, no doubt leaving tire tracks. He stops it as the surrounding trees cover the car, but the treeline is just visible. 

—

You emerge from your cocoon of a sleeping bag to a rattling, slowly blinking the sleep from your eyes before you quirk your nose with an unfamiliar smell. Inching your way to the stove, you wiggle until you stand on your knees and pull at the boiling thing on top of it, the smell suddenly stronger which makes you cringe back. “Ugh! What the fuck is that?!”

“You don't like coffee?” Joel calls back from the trunk, brows raised, clearly shocked.

You only stared back at the pot, a tinge of disgust yet fascination, before flipping the lid back on and throwing yourself to your earlier curled position, opting to ignore the stink.

After putting all of your supplies back and securing them, Joel starts the car as you sit in the passenger seat. He instructs you to pull out a map and you do just that as he drives back into the paved road. When the both of you are on solid road, Joel pulls out a black bottle, and sips at it.

“Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” You grimace, looking at the man beside you.

“Well, theirs was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up, but yeah this is what they sold.” 

You stare at the bottle again. “Smells like burnt shit.” 

Joel ignores you, only sipping coffee again, this time visibly louder before he fixes you a stare. “Eyes on the map.”

You huff, putting your attention back on the paper laid out in front of you. “76 West, and then… 70 West, for like, ever.” You sigh.

“Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?”

“Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody,” Joel turns to watch you as you flip the paper, eyes searching.

“Cody… Cody, Cody! Ah man, that's deep in there,” Your finger traces the many lines and roads etched into the paper. 

“Yeah,”

“And if he's not there?”

“Then odds are, he’ll be near a settlement, probably close to another city out there, ain't too   many of ‘em in Wyoming,”

You squint at one of the names on the map. “Chee-yen?”

“Cheyenne.”

“Che- Really?” Joel nods. “Cheyenne, Laramie…. Casper?” You hum, continue to read the map.

“What's his name?”

“Whose name?”

“Your brother,” This time you're focused on Joel, choosing to put the map on your lap instead. After a pause, Joel answers.

“Tommy,”

“Younger or older?”

“Younger,”

“Why isn't he with you?” Another curious question.

“A long story.”

“Is it longer than 25 hours? ‘Cause I think that's what we got,” You shrug, looking at Joel while he only blinks, before his eyes are back on the road. He huffs, then begins to tell about Tommy and how he came to be.

The story ends with a closing remark about the Fireflies, and you had to agree they were dumb. Trying to save a dying world is useless, though there is still hope. It ends bitterly as it reminds you of Marlene.

“If you don't think there's hope for the world, why bother going on?” Your eyes track the road outside. “I mean, you gotta try right?”

Joel stayed silent, then; “You haven't seen the world so you don't know.”

“You keep goin’ for family, that's about it,”

“I’m not family,” You almost flinched with how little your voice sounds.

“No,” Joel shakes his head. “You're cargo.”

“I made a promise to Tess, and she was like family.”

You nodded slowly, resting your head on the seat as your eyes passed the fields outside. You think back to Riley, to the days you’d spend with her, to the way she made you feel as if the world was only worth the two of you. She was family, she made you feel like family. Then that was over and next thing you know you ran away from Marlene despite promising Riley you’d join them.

“Y’know… about Marlene,” Joel turns to you for a second, realizing how quiet you got, before he turns back to the road. You chewed at your bottom lip a bit, before huffing and turning to the road beside you, letting the morning wind breeze through your hair. 

“She said this old name, Ellie,” Your brows frown a little, trying to blink as you feel your eyes gloss over. “That was the name my parents apparently gave me before they left me with FEDRA.” 

“Marlene told me that, the name,” When you turn, Joel’s eyes are trained on you, soft on the edges and it makes you gulp. “I hated it. I always did,” 

“You don't go by that.”

“No, I don't.” You huff, looking away and outside your window again. The wind is soothing over you. “I never had a family, Marlene wasn't family she was just a Firefly, and the only one i had was…”

“So I changed it. Never felt like mine anyways, Ellie- Feels like a dead girl's name,” Grass and trees pass by. “And I'm not a girl, so…”

“No?” This time, you notice the hint of confusion and curiosity in the man's tone. 

“Nope,” You popped the ‘p’. “Never was, never will be,” 

“So you’re…?” You scoff, turning back to Joel.

“I’m a dude, dumbass,” You stared at Joel as he looked out at the road, then back at you, eyebrows scrunched together. “What?”

“Marlene said-”

“Marlene doesn't know shit.” You cross your arm, trying to bury yourself into the seat. “She left me, just like my parents. So I make my own rules. I made it myself. Got a problem?” 

Joel only stares, silence filling the void, only the light hum and sometimes gravel underneath the road made noise. You huff, looking out into the world, contemplating your choice. What went through your head thinking this man, who considers you ‘cargo’ was worth sharing a bit of yourself with? He wasn't someone worth dying for, worth saving for, he didn't earn this personal information about you. Fuck this, fuck your stupid heart, fuck your damn feelings and mushy-

“Sure kid, whatever,” Now that made you snap at him. The last time someone said that to you was when you told Riley about it. Albeit less cold and distant, but still. Your brows arch, assessing the man next to you.

“You don't care?”

“Why should i? That doesn't matter,” He shrugs, eyes trained on the road. “What matters is i don't need to carry your dead weight if you got your ass bitten, ‘cause you're a man,”

You blink, slightly confused and worried if Joel got hit in the head or not. Maybe it was that coffee… Either way, you felt a sense of warmth blooming in your heart, elevating your breath, before you scoff and look away, a smile making its way to your lips. “Yeah, whatever old man,”  

Requests are opened!

[rancidpancakebatter]

Drop In-Chapter 7 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: You like Peter, and Peter likes you. This should be simple, so why isn’t it? Well, maybe it’s because you were already friends? Maybe it’s the stress of senior year? Maybe it’s because someone had to get bit by a spider? Who’s to say?

Word Count: 3.2k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying, Anxiety, Depression,

Some negative body image in this chapter and pretty early on. I’m really tapping into the insecure teen years with this story. 

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A/N: Homecoming is happening! Football and Mayhem and Peter

Bit of a filler, because it’s gonna get sad and stressful.

also it's midterms and I'm exhausted so I'm sorry but this is very unedited and kinda...dry? I dunno but it's the best I have rn

You looked over your bed, where you had spread out all of your gear and clothes, forming a battle plan and double-checking you had everything you needed. First was the game. You had agreed that Peter would take pictures of the cheerleaders, the band, and the crowd, the atmosphere if you will, because his film camera- while wonderful- has its limitations.

You would be in charge of capturing the gameplay, equipped with a year-old DSLR model and a long lens. You repacked your bag, double-checking the batteries’ life and that the sd cards were empty. You made sure to pack a few lens wipes as well as the microfiber cloth, just in case. 

Once that was settled, you looked over the outfit you had picked out. You wouldn’t have much time to get ready between the dance and the game, so you wanted to make sure you were still available for a quick change.

You had picked some tight-fitting jeans and a tucked t-shirt. It’s pretty plain, a tight-fitting shirt with cold and navy blue stripes. You had dug around for hours trying to find something with school colours on it, and this would just have to do. The outfit was laid out across your cotton sheets, and beside them was a green bomber jacket. Beneath it lay a grey zip-up hoodie that wasn’t yours. 

As you looked at it your stomach started to knot. It carried a lot in its empty pockets. Memories of butterflies, and hope, and something you refused to label as love were woven into its worn threads. You had been balancing a tightrope between nonchalance and a Chornobyl-sized meltdown for the past few days. You couldn’t tell if wearing Peter’s jacket would hold you up or shove you into the jagged rocks below. 

You decided that was a problem for later and instead made sure your dress and accessories were all good and accounted for. You had picked out some tall wedges to go with it. 

You pulled a deep, centring breath through your body and stepped into your bathroom. Perched on the counter, you began to apply your base makeup. You didn’t go all out just yet, that was for the dance, but you wanted to cut down on things to do later. You applied your base and went with a simple smudged eyeliner look accompanied by thick mascara. You were applying highlight when your father knocked on your door. You beckoned him in, and he sat on the tub, his unofficial seat for these moments. 

“Are you excited?” 

His smile was warm and genuine. You beamed at him through the reflection. 

“I’m kinda nervous but also really excited.”

He chuckled at your response, remembering his own teenage woes of old. 

“Today, school was awesome. Classes were pretty laid back, and then the Pep rally was tons of fun. I sat next to Pete, and we just made jokes. At one point, we narrated what we thought the players were thinking as they stood behind the principal. They all had these dead stares as Mr Braxton rambled on for like ten minutes. It was so fun.”

There was a tension in your father’s shoulders that he didn’t know he held, but he felt it leave as you told him about your day. It had been so long since he had seen you so animated. You were excited, and he was excited for you. 

“And I know the game is gonna be just as fun. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we suck. Like seriously, I don’t know how our team still gets funding; we are so bad. But Pete and I are gonna take pictures and goof off in the stands. Also, I was promised kettle corn and you know I love kettle corn. I’m gonna fuck that up.”

That earned a very loud laugh from your father. 

“Yes, you will. I know better than to ask but would you save me some?”

You chuckled at the request. “How about I get you a bag and bring it home?”

You both agreed on the compromise, and he continued to watch you do your makeup, occasionally bobbing his head to the music you were playing. You were dousing your face with setting spray when your phone started vibrating on the counter. 

Your father answered it at your request. 

“Hey, Peter! You're on speaker with me and (Y/n),”

“Hello, Mr (Y/n). Hey, (Y/n).”

You said hello back and he immediately started going into his spiel.

“So I was wondering when you wanted to leave. I know you said you wanted to leave at six but what about dinner? Would you wanna go before or after the game? Or not at all? Also, May wants to take pictures of us, but I know I’m coming over to you for the dance. Could she come with? Ben was probably going to drop me off, but they could both come, and then May could get some pictures. If not, I think I could hold her over if your dad promised to take some and send them to her.”

His nervous rambles brought a smile to your face. It reminded you of the way he was before. When he would blush at your kind words and affections. You looked to your dad, knowing he was the only one who might care. 

“Mr Parker, you know your family is welcome whenever. I’ll call Ms May and get that all straightened out.”

Your father left the bathroom, and you heard his jovial voice as he went into the hallway. It made you laugh. 

You stayed on the phone with Peter for a bit while you got dressed, reviewing the plan once again. You decided to stop and get a sandwich on the way. There was a bodega nearby that Peter absolutely loved, and you agreed to go. It was cheaper and quicker than some fancy sit-down meal. And it was special. Something for you and Peter. The thought made you feel warm inside. 

You were recessed and ready and running to the car. You were buzzing with excitement. It’s true that Peter and you had been a little rocky lately, but you couldn’t help but feel like maybe it was turning around. The way he had treated you this week (for the most part) has been amazing. When you think about it, most of the things Peter did to upset you weren’t on purpose. Sometimes he was just such a boy. But he had been sweet anytime he realized you were upset. As soon as he recognised that, he was sweet and caring and careful. He was attentive and kind. 

There was a fluttering of hope that lived in your ribs. It told you that things were changing. That yeah, there was that weird patch, but you were coming out on the other side. You were seeing Peter again, your friend, and you had missed him. Today you felt like you were floating on cloud nine. He talked to you in class; he included you in the conversations with his friends. He was happy and smiling all day long with you. 

You turned over the engine and switched out the CDs. You wanted the songs that orchestrated your summer. Songs that reminded you of those carefree days and the golden sun. The weather was getting colder, yes, but maybe you could make the warmth stick around just a little longer. You could hold on just a little longer. 

The game is very uneventful. So far, you’re thirty minutes from halftime, and there have been three touchdowns. Unfortunately, the Midtown Panthers couldn’t claim any of them. Peter and you had split up for a bit to get some pictures, and now you were back in the student section. Several of your peers were losing their minds, cheering anytime your team gained more ground on the field. It all felt a little silly to you, but you cheered along with them. The shouting was fun. A release of chaotic energy that you didn’t get often. 

Peter was hesitant, but you eventually convinced him to join in. You moved your arms with the cheerleaders and butchered their chants. You could see Sabrina Dontelle roll her eyes every time you messed it up, but that only encouraged you more. Peter’s laughter and smile was more than enough validation in your actions. His smile was bright, and you were basking in it.

You made your way through the throng of teens, pushing your way towards the field. The “halftime show” was starting, and you both took pictures of the Marching band. The flags looked majestic as they fluttered in the wind, and the careful weaving of your peers while juggling heavy instruments was mesmerising. Then the homecoming court emerged. 

A stage was wheeled onto the field, and the principal stood at the podium. He went on and on about how this event was an honourable, celebrated event, about the history of your school and your team. He was optimistic about the end of this game. The crowd erupted into cheers as the homecoming court came out from the same tunnel the team had before. You recognised most faces as they passed, three pairs from each grade. Elaborate dresses and illustrated smiles made their way down the field, accompanied by tailored suits and gelled hair.

You found yourself fiddling with your shirt, adjusting your top and jacket. Especially when you saw Gwen. She wasn’t on the court but helping, passing out tairas as the person beside her passed out sashes. She wore a beautiful dress, soft white lace over a pale blue tea cut dress. Her make-up was subtle but worked, big eyes with bright lips and matching blush. She looked regal and divine. 

She must have sensed your stare. She turned to look at you and Peter, and her smile was grand. You watched as her hand raised slightly and wiggled her fingers with enthusiasm. Peter waved back, and you felt your throat tighten ever so slightly. She makes a gesture with her pointer finger and a thumbs up. You look at her confused, and she tries to hide a laugh. She does it again, and you realize she’s talking to you. 

“I like your top,” She mouths again. 

You smile and try to tell her that you like her dress, but she’s just as confused. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, but luckily from your placement on the field, no one who might get offended by your inappropriate tittering notices. You hear a shutter and turn next to you to see Peter lowering his camera, a dusting of pink across his cheeks. 

You go to reprimand him, but his smile eats your words. When he’s looking at you like that, how could you be mad? All boyish charm and crinkled eyes. You make a face at him, and before you can even process, there’s a flash and the shutter once again. Peter only chuckles at your shock as you swat at his arm. 

This starts a candid war that goes on for the rest of the game. You both make your way up to the stage to take pictures of everyone. You split up the work to get it done quicker. You’ve finished the last one and notice Peter is still working. Sarah Macnimera is being picky about her pose and insisting Peter get a “good one.” Her glorified boy toy hung loosely on her arm, giving her passive reassurance that she looked great. Pete is getting frustrated, and you raise your camera in preparation.

He turns to make a face at you. His eyes are captured mid-roll, only the whites visible. His tongue lulled forward just a bit, as his face fell “dead.” You had forever immortalized his classic eye roll, fake gag combo that you called the “Kill me” look. You look at the preview screen and make a mental note to upload it later. 

After the homecoming event is over you make your way to the kettle corn stand. The line isn’t very long and you’re bouncing with excitement. Peter teases you for your childlike glee. 

“It’s just kettle corn,” He says in amused disbelief.

“Peter Parker,” You begin, “There is no such thing as ‘just kettle corn.’ Kettle corn is a gift, the best thing to come out of colonization. It is the perfect amount of sweetness- and when fresh, it’s warm. Do you understand? It’s the best food! Only the Boy Scouts can rival what is happening in this tent.”

When you reach the counter to order, you request three large bags. Peter looks at you like you’re insane, but you pay him no mind. Each bag is about as long as your arm and wider than your fists. Truly carnival sized. You try to juggle them, telling Peter you’re putting two in the car for later. You can barely see over them. Pete takes another photo of you, and you have to say you’re a little curious as to how that one turns out. 

On your way back to the game, you're splitting a bag with Peter. Each kernel melts on your tongue, and Peter agrees with you that it’s very good. Sugar hangs from his lips, and you find yourself having to look away. Even with the chill of autumn hanging in the air, being beside Peter today has made you feel warmer than ever before. You had been starved of Peter Parker, but here he was, filling you up once again. Your heart felt full and light. 

 You’ve made your way back into the “field.” The concessions lines were long, and your beloved tent was well in view from this side of the bleachers. You could hear the announcers in their box high above calling out the plays as they came. Many people were making their way to the exit, only caring about the court ceremony. As people pushed and shoved, you almost lost Peter in the crowd until you felt his hold on your arm. His big hands wrapped around your forearm and brought you closer to his person. 

He noticed the way your shoulders had risen and how you had pulled into yourself ever so slightly. Now that you had opened up to him about your anxiety, and that crowds tend to make it worse, he’s been keeping an eye on you.

He had never seen you so broken before. You looked so small, so defeated, when he found you on the bathroom floor. He never wanted to see that again. He had made a vow. He would do everything he could to keep you from going into that state again. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded your head and he let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He threw his arm around your shoulder and reached across you to get some popcorn. You were discussing what other pictures you two should take- if any- while munching on your sweet treat when you hear Peter’s name called out. 

You looked up at the source and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Miles Moralize, who had become your group’s mascot in a way, had scaled up the fencing on the bleachers. His bright red hoodie was obvious against the rattling silver metal. But in case you didn’t see him, he was also waving his arm dramatically as if waving off a ship in the nineteen twenties. All he needed was a handkerchief. 

Peter waved back and pointed his finger very aggressively at Miles and then at the ground. You couldn’t help but chuckle, then laugh when Peter looked at you with confusion. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked with his brows still furrowed. 

You tried your best to reign in your laughter, “You- you look like May.”

He feigned anger, but his smile overshadowed any attempt at malice in his glare. He lead you over to where Miles was, where you found the rest of the group. Micheal and Nicholas were talking to Miles as he climbed down, guiding his feet and teasing him about how ridiculous he was. Silas wore a tired expression that only lifted once his gaze fell upon the two of you. 

“Oh, thank God! I swear, I’ve aged five years trying to keep these idiots alive for the last half hour.”

He wrapped his arms dramatically around you both, with his toes barely touching the ground, as he all but collapsed. You and Peter both chuckled, offering your condolences and commending him for his bravery. You offered him popcorn, and he was delighted to take some. 

“Thanks! I was trying to get everyone over so I could get some, but they got distracted. This kettle corn is so good. I’ve been looking forward to it all year.”

You declared that Silas could have as much as he wanted because he was the only person appreciative of your scrumptious snack. He cheered as Peter began to defend himself, but then Mile’s feet hit the ground and everyone rushed over. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Nicholas said as he sauntered up to where you were talking to Silas, everyone else in tow, “Gang’s all here.”

You and Peter both greeted him and he immediately burst into a fit of giggles. You looked at each other sceptically, as if silently discussing the clues to this mystery. As if you couldn’t already figure it out between his spacey approach and his glazed gaze, Nick pulls a battered, half-eaten, rice-crispy treat out of his pocket. You clock the almost “caramel” colour to it and quickly piece it together. 

He takes a bite before offering it to you and Peter. 

He chuckles when you both decline, “Oh please, you’re not fooling anyone. Parker here definitely smokes,”

Miles smacks his arm, telling him to keep it down, but Nick ignores him, “And dudette here definitely smokes with him.” 

Peter shakes his head and you can feel his breath across your neck from his proximity.

“Nick, dude. I told you we could, next Wednesday. But I’m not gonna now because then I’ll miss the dance. There’s no way you’re getting in there without raising suspicion.”

Nicholas only takes another bite. Defiance drives his every movement. Although, you’re a little lost on who he’s proving wrong.

“Fuck the dance!” He exclaims around a mouthful of sugar and weed, “Who gives a fuck about the dance? You should come back with us after the game. We’re gonna get high and watch all the Lord of the Rings tonight. That’s so much more fun!”

Your smile is growing more and more forced. While you do enjoy these boys, this is not what you wanted right now. Watching LOTR high did sound like a fun evening, but it didn’t sound even remotely more appealing than dancing with Peter. 

Still tucked under his arm, it’s hard to hide from him. You obviously don’t want Peter to pick the movie night, but you also don’t want to force him to go to the dance. You wish you could get a read on him. One minute he’s suggesting you go; the next he’s acting like he never wanted to. It’s all very confusing. 

“Hmmm,” Peter says, “I dunno. We’ve been planning these matching outfits and everything. It would be a shame not to go.” 

Only Nick sounded annoyed by his answer, and for that you were grateful. You felt a tugging and realised that Pete was turning you both around. He dipped his head down, knocking your head lightly to catch your attention. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You tightened up your smile, making it bigger. “Yeah, I’m glad we’re still going to the dance.”

You feel his fingers run across your shoulder, and the movement is comforting, “Yeah, of course.”

You looked over your bed where you had spread out all of your gear and clothes, forming a battle plan and double-checking you had everything you needed. First, was the game. You had agreed that Peter would take pictures of the cheerleaders, the band, and the crowd, the atmosphere if you will, because his film camera- while wonderful- has limitations. You would be in charge of capturing the gameplay, equipped with a year-old DSLR model and a long lens. You repacked your bag, double-checking the batteries’ life and that the sd cards were empty. You made sure to pack a few lens wipes as well as the microfiber cloth, just in case. 

Once that was settled you looked over the outfit you had picked out. You wouldn’t have much time to get ready between the dance and the game so you wanted to make sure you were still available for a quick change. You had picked some tight-fitting jeans and a tucked t-shirt. It’s pretty plain, a tight-fitting shirt with cold and navy blue stripes. You had dug around for hours trying to find something with school colours on it, and this would just have to do. The outfit was laid out across your cotton sheets, and beside them was a green bomber jacket. Beneath it lay a grey zip-up hoodie that wasn’t yours. 

As you looked at it your stomach started to knot. It carried a lot in its empty pockets. Memories of butterflies and hope and something you refused to label as love were woven into its worn threads. You had been balancing a tightrope between nonchalance and a Chornobyl-sized meltdown for the past few days. You couldn’t tell if wearing Peter’s jacket would hold you up or shove you into the jagged rocks below. 

You decided that was a problem for later and instead made sure your dress and accessories were all good and accounted for. You had picked out some tall wedges to go with them. 

[maybe describe the dress or sum]

You pulled a deep, centring, breath through your body and stepped into your bathroom. Perched on the counter you began to apply your base makeup. You didn’t go all out just yet, that was for the dance, but you wanted to cut down on things to do later. You applied your base and went with a simple smudged eyeliner look accompanied by thick mascara. You were applying highlight when your father knocked on your door. You beckoned him in and he sat on the tub, his unofficial seat for these moments. 

“Are you excited?” 

His smile was warm and genuine. You beamed at him through the reflection. 

“I’m kinda nervous but also really excited.”

He chuckled at your response, remembering his teenage woes of old. 

“Today, school was awesome. Classes were pretty laid back and then the Pep rally was tons of fun. I sat next to Pete and we just made jokes. At one point we narrated the team’s thoughts as they stood behind the principal. They all had these dead stares as Mr Braxton rambled on for like ten minutes. It was so fun.”

There was a tension in your father’s shoulders that he didn’t know he held, but he felt it leave as you told him about your day. It had been so long since he had seen you so animated. You were excited and he was excited for you. 

“And I know the game is gonna be just as fun. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we suck. Like seriously, I don’t know how our team still gets funding we are so bad. But Pete and I are gonna take pictures and goof off in the stands. Also, I was promised kettle corn and you know I love kettle corn. I’m gonna fuck that up.”

That earned a very loud laugh from your father. 

“Yes, you will. I know better than to ask but would you save me some?”

You chuckled at the request. “How about I get you a bag and bring it home?”

You both agreed on the compromise and he continued to watch you do your makeup, occasionally bobbing his head to the music you were playing. You were dousing your face with setting spray when your phone started vibrating on the counter. 

Your father answered it at your request. 

“Hey, Peter! You're on speaker with me and (Y/n),”

“Hello, Mr (Y/n). Hey, (Y/n).”

You said hello back and he immediately started going into his spiel.

“So I was wondering when you wanted to leave. I know you said you wanted to leave at six but what about dinner? Would you wanna go before or after the game? Or not at all? Also, May wants to take pictures of us but I know I’m coming over to you for the dance. Could she come with? Ben was probably going to drop me off but they could both come and then May could get some pictures. If not I think I could hold her over if your dad promised to take some and send them to her.”

His nervous rambles brought a smile to your face. It reminded you of the way he was before. When he would blush at your kind words and affections. You looked to your dad knowing he was the only one who might care. 

“Mr Parker, you know your family is welcome whenever. I’ll call Ms May and get that all straightened out.”

Your father left the bathroom and you heard his jovial voice as he went into the hallway. It made you laugh. 

You stayed on the phone with Peter for a bit while you got dressed, reviewing the plan once again. You decided to stop and get a sandwich on the way. There was a bodega nearby that Peter absolutely loved, and you agreed to go. It was cheaper and quicker than some fancy sit-down meal. And it was special. Something for you and Peter. The thought made you feel warm inside. 

You were recessed and ready and running to the car. You were buzzing with excitement. It’s true, that Peter and you had been a little rocky lately, but you couldn’t help but feel like maybe it was turning around. The way he had treated you this week (for the most part) has been amazing. When you think about it, most of the things Peter did to upset you weren’t on purpose. Sometimes he was just such a boy. But he had been sweet anytime he realized you were upset. As soon as he recognised that he was sweet and caring and careful. He was attentive and kind. 

There was a fluttering of hope that lived in your ribs. It told you that things were changing. That yeah, there was that weird patch, but you were coming out on the other side. You were seeing Peter again, your friend, and you had missed him. Today you felt like you were floating on cloud nine. He talked to you in class, he included you in the conversations with his friends. He was happy and smiling all day long with you. 

You turned over the engine and switched out the CDs. You wanted the songs that [souttracked] your summer. Songs that reminded you of those carefree days and the golden sun. The weather was getting colder it’s true, but maybe you could make the warmth stick around just a little longer. You could hold on just a little longer. 

The game is very uneventful. So far, you’re thirty minutes from Halftime and there have been three touchdowns. Unfortunately, the Midtown Panthers couldn’t claim any of them. Peter and you had split up for a bit to get some pictures and now you were back in the student section. Several of your peers were losing their minds, cheering anytime your team gained more ground on the field. It all felt a little silly to you but you cheered along with them. The shouting was fun. A release of chaotic energy that you didn’t get often. 

Peter was hesitant but you eventually convinced him to join in. You moved your arms with the cheerleaders and butchered their chants. You could see Sabrina Dontelle roll her eyes every time you messed it up, but that only encouraged you more. Peter’s laughter and smile was more than enough validation in your actions. His smile was bright and you were basking in it.

You made your way through the throng of teens, pushing your way towards the field. The “halftime show” was starting and you both took pictures of the Marching band. The flags looked majestic as they fluttered in the wind, and the careful weaving was meserizing. Then the homecoming court emerged. 

A stage was wheeled onto the field and the principal stood at the podium. He went on and on about how this event was an honourable, celebrated event. About the history of your school and your team. He was optimistic about the end of this game. The crowd erupted into cheers as the homecoming court came out from the same tunnel the team had before. You recognised most faces as they passed, three from each grade. Elaborate dresses and illustrated smiles made their way down the field, accompanied by tailored suits and gelled hair. You found yourself fiddling with your shirt, adjusting your top and jacket. Especially when you saw Gwen. She wasn’t on the court but helping, passing out tairas as the person beside passed out sashes. She wore a beautiful dress, soft white lace over a pale blue tea cut dress. Her make-up was subtle but worked, big eyes with bright lips and matching blush. She looked regal and divine. 

She must have sensed your stare. She turned to look at you and Peter, and her smile was grand. You watched as her hand raised sight and she shook it back and forth with enthusiasm. Peter waved back and you felt your throat tighten, ever so slightly. She makes a gesture with her pointer finger and a thumbs up. You look at her confused and she tries to hide a laugh. She does it again and you realize she’s talking to you. 

“I like your top,” She mouths again. 

You smile and try to tell her that you like her dress but she’s just as confused. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, but luckily from your placement on the field, no one who might get offended by your inappropriate tittering notices. You hear a shutter and turn next to you to see Peter lowering his camera, a dusting of pink across his cheeks. 

You go to reprimand him but his smile eats your words. When he’s looking at you how could you be mad? All boyish charm and scrinckled eyes. You make a face at him and before you can even process, there’s a flash and the shutter once again. Peter only chuckles at your shock as you swat at him arm. 

This starts a candid war that goes on for the rest of the game. You both make your way up to the stage to take pictures of everyone. You split up the work to get it done quicker. You’ve finished the last one and notice Peter is still working. Sarah Macnimera is being picky about her pose and insisting Peter get a “good one.” Her glorified boytoy, hung loosely on her arm, giving her passive reassurances that she looked great. You raise your camera just in time to catch Peter making a face at you. 

His eyes are captured mid roll, only the whites visible. His tongue lulled forward just a bit, as his face fell “dead.” You had forever imortalized his classic eye roll, fake gag combo that you called the “Kill me” look. You look at the preview screen and make a mental note to uplaod it later. 

After the homecoming event is over you make your way to the kettle corn stand. The line isn’t very long and You’re bouncing with excitement. Peter teases you for your childlike glee. 

“It’s just kettle corn,” He says in amused disbelief

“Peter Parker,” You begin, “There is no such thing as ‘just kettle corn.’ Kettle corn is gift, the best thing to come out of colonization. It is the perfect amount of sweet and when fresh it’s warm. Do you understand? It’s the best food! Only the Boy Scout’s can rival what is happening in this tent.”

When you get up to the counter to order you request three large bags. Peter looks at you like you’re insane but you pay him no mind. Each bag is about as long as your arm and wider than two of your fists. Truly carnival sized. You try to juggle them, telling Peter you’re putting two in the car for later. You can barley see over them. Pete takes another photo of you and you have to say you’re a little curious as to how that one turns out. 

On your way back to the game your splitting a bag with Peter. Each kernel melts on your tongue and Peter agrees with you that it’s very good. Sugar hangs from his lips and you find yourself having to look away. Even with the chill of autum hanging in the air, being beside Peter today has made you feel warmer than ever before. You had been starved of Peter Parker, but here he was, filling you up once again. Your heart felt full and light. 

 You’ve made your way back into the “field”. The concesions lines were long and your beloved tent was in well in view from this side of the bleachers. You could hear the announcers in their box high above calling out the plays as they came. Many people were making their way to the exit, only caring about the court ceremony. As people pushed and shoved you almost lost Peter in the crowd, until you felt his hold on your arm. His big hands wrapped around your forearm and brought you closer to his person. 

He noticed the way your shoulders had risen and how you had pulled into yourself ever so slightly. Now that you had opened up to him about your anxiety and that crowds tend to make it worse, he’s been keeping an eye on you. He had never seen you so broken before. You looked so small, so defeated, when he found you on the bathroom floor. He never wanted to see that again. He had made a vow. He would do everything he could to keep you from going into that state again. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded your head and he let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He threw his arm around your shoulder and reached across you to get some popcorn. You were discussing what other pictures you two should take, if any, while munching on you sweet treat when you hear Peter’s name called out. 

You look up to the source and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Miles Moralize, who had become your group’s mascot in a way, had scaled up the fencing on the bleachers. His bright red hoodie was obvious against the rattling metal. But incase you didn’t see him, he was also waving his arm dramatically, as if waving off a ship in the nineteen twenties. All he needed was a handkerchief. 

Peter waved back and pointed his finger very aggressively at Miles and then the ground. You couldn’t help but chuckle and then laugh when Peter looked at you with confusion. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked with his brows still furrowed. 

You tried your best to reign in your laughter, “You- you look like May.”

He friegned anger but his smile overshadowed any attempt at malice in his glare. He lead you over to where Miles was, where you found the rest of the group. Micheal and Nicholas were talking to Miles as he climbed down, guiding his feet and teasing him about how ridiculous he was. Silas wore a tired expression that only lifted once his gaze fell apon the two of you. 

“Oh, thank God! I swear, I’ve aged five years trying to keep these idiots alive for the last half hour.”

He wrapped his arms draumaticly around you both with his toes barely touching the ground as he all but collapsed. You and Peter both chuckled, offering your condolences and commending him for his bravery. You offered him popcorn and he was delighted to take some. 

“Thanks! I was trying to get everyone over so I could get some but they got distracted. This kettle corn is so good. I’ve been looking forward to it all year.”

You declared that Silas could have as much as he wanted because he was the only person appreciative of your delcectible snack. He cheered as Peter began to defend himself, but then Mile’s feet hit the ground and everyone rushed over. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Nicholas said as he sauntered up to where you were talking to silas, everyone else in tow, “Gang’s all here,”

You and Peter both greeted him and he immediately burst into a fit of giggles. You looked at eachother skeptically, as if silently discussing the clues to this mystery. As if you couldn’t already figure it out between his spacey approach and his glazed gaze, Nick pulls a battered, half eaten, rice crispy treat out of his pocket. You clock the almost “caramel” colour to it and quickly piece it together. 

He takes a bite before offering it to you and Peter. 

He chuckles when you both decline, “Oh please, you’re not fooling anyone. Parker here definitely smokes,”

Miles smacks his arm, telling him to keep it down, but Nick ignores him, “And dudette here definitely smokes with him.” 

Peter shakes his head and you can feel his breath across your neck from his proximity. “Nick, dude. I told you we could Wednesday. But I’m not gonna now because then I’ll miss the dance. There’s no way you’re getting in there without raising suspicion.”

Nicholas only takes another bite. Defieance drives his every movement although you’re a little lost on who he’s proving wrong.

“Fuck the dance!” He exclaims around a mouthful of sugar and weed, “Who gives a fuck about the dance? You should came back with us after the game. We’re gonna get high and watch all the Lord of the Rings tonight. That’s so much more fun!”

Your smile is growing more and more forced. While you do enjoy these boys, this is not what you wanted right now. While that did sound like a fun evening, it didn’t sound even remotely more appealing than dancing with Peter. 

Still tucked under his arm it’s hard to hid from him. You obviously don’t want Peter to pick the movie night but you also don’t want to force him to go to the dance. You wish you could get a read on him. One minute he’s suggesting you go, the next he’s acting like he never wanted to. It’s all very confusing. 

“Hmmm,” Peter says, “I dunno. We’ve been planing these matching outfits and everything. It would be a shame not to go.” 

Only Nich sounded annoyed by his answer and for the you were grateful. You felt a tugging and realised that Pete was turning you both around. He dipped his head down, knocking your head lightly to catch your attention. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

You tightened up your smile, making it bigger. “Yeah, I’m glad we’re still going to the dance.”

You feel his fingers run across your shoulder and the movement is comforting, “Yeah, of course.”

Tag List: @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @djdre92, @drunkangels, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Invisibletrolleyson-jeremy, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @Possiblydeads-blog, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @qualitybeliverflower, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

[fog-on-the-moon]

Celia Rime, aspiring book illustrator and side-line pianist (and secret poet), my MC for @bodycountgame

“Far away from here I’m called, my mind it flies among the skies, But, my beloved, do not be fooled, I know you when I close my eyes.”

- A snippet from one of her many poems, which she will completely deny ever writing

22 years old and a year out of uni, Celia convinces herself to apply for the new Body Count reality show (despite her distaste for the things) because she’s feeling lost. She has a vague idea of what she wants to do, but can’t find any openings (and maybe she does really want to find love). But having a pretty extreme case of stage fright might make her new life a little difficult...

About her:

Bisexual<3

A little bit anxious, a little bit depressed, a whole lot (Not) Ready For Tomorrow

Self-taught artist, but always had a talent for it. She keeps every sketchbook she fills as a visual reminder that improvement is Real

Likes to paint on her hands and thighs for Funsies

Started learning piano at the beginning of secondary school, and jumped up to Grade 3 immediately. Despite her skill, she only plays for herself and her very close family / friends

Aquarius - open-minded and creative, but sometimes a bit too aloof

Video games all the way Skyrim Skyrim Skyrim

Owns one (1) leather jacket that she wears literally every day, because it was a gift from her late grandmother - she’s not ever been seen without it since receiving it

Introverted, and pissy when told to take out her earbuds

Her music taste is extremely vast and varied, but her all-time favourite always has been and always will be Starlight by Muse

Has been known to unironically quote Twenty One Pilots on occasion, much to her friends (and sometimes her own) chagrin - “Would you say you depend on the weather?”, Good Day

Grunge Is Out Of Fashion who?

A whole bunch of piercings and a whole bunch of tattoos, and every single one has a meaning. Celia tells a select few a couple reasons, but only she knows them all

Likes to think she’s Cool and Edgy with her biker-chic vibes but the second someone says anything remotely nice to her she melts to a puddle on the floor.

(buy her flowers I dare you)

(she will fall in love with you on the spot)

Expanding on this, though Brooding is her resting state she becomes a goofy mess when excited and around friends

Secretly loves the Dark Academia Look but worries she can’t pull it off

Tried her hand at composing and made a couple songs, but she’s never shared any with anyone and likely never will

Her favourite song to play is Mariage d’amour by Paul de Senneville (and she will fight anyone who tries to claim it was composed by Chopin)

Love interests: Griffin, Charlie, Florrie, Vinh

[daenqyu]

heather | kaminari denki

— gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @misakachan

pairing: kaminari x fem!reader | platonic!kirishima x fem!reader

genre: LOTS of angst, some comfort(?)

summary: kaminari had been oblivious to your feelings for years now, and at first it was okay, you didn’t mind hiding them. until you noticed the way he looked at her and suddenly, it wasn’t okay anymore.

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this is my first time writing and posting for a bnha character so i really hope you guys like it <3 i usually don’t write angst, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this and decided to write it down and i’m very happy with how it turned out.

« i still remember third of december

me in your sweater, you said it looked better

on me, than it did you, only if you knew

how much i liked you »

YOUR whole body trembled thanks to the coldness surrounding you, the snow decorating the floor and trees being a clear sign that winter had already begun in japan. you hugged your arms in a poor attempt to provide yourself some kind of heath, only to be met with the feeling of your cold hands. out of all the days you could’ve forgotten your jacket, it had to be on one of the coldest days of december. profanities fell from your lips as you tried your best to endure the pain until the bus came, but you were sure you would pass out by then. or maybe you were exaggerating.

the bus stop wasn’t that far away from your house, maybe if you ran you could get your jacket and get back on time to catch the bus. you checked your phone to see the time, a groan leaving your lips as you realized that was going to be practically impossible. if you left now, by the time you came back the bus would be long gone. dammit, why do i have to forget everything?

“well well, look who we have here.” your ears perked up as soon as you heard the male’s voice, a small smile making its way to your lips.

kaminari made his way over to you, both hands on his pockets as he returned the smile, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. the smile didn't falter until he took note of your current state. his eyes widened with concern and his hands worked fast to take his jacket off.

“denki, what are you doing?” confusion was evident on your face, but that didn’t stop the blonde from wrapping you up in the warm material.

you blushed from the sudden proximity, his face just inches away as he finished zipping up the piece of clothing. it didn’t take long before his cologne filled your nostrils and you basked in the comfort it gave you; it smelled like home. kaminari’s smile returned to his face when he saw your body visibly relax at the newfound heath, even though goosebumps began to form on his skin by the sudden change of temperature. he could handle being cold for a few hours.

“there, now you won’t die of hypothermia.”

“but what about you?”

he shrugged, tilting his head to the side before answering, “it’s fine, it looks better on you anyways.”

you knew he probably meant it in a friendly way, but you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at the compliment. suddenly you felt all warm inside, and it wasn’t because of the jacket. but rather the effect your best friend had on you.

right.

the smile slowly disappeared from your face, replaced with a hurt expression instead.

that’s all we are.

realization dawned upon you quickly and you scolded yourself for almost believing something so irrational and overall stupid. but as he nudged your arm with his elbow and started talking to you about a new video game that had come out that exact same day, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he did so, you allowed yourself to hold on to that fantasy a little longer. after all, dreaming didn’t hurt anyone right?

and so, you spent the whole ride to school envisioning an universe in which kaminari returned your feelings for him. an universe in which he loved you just as much as you loved him and you didn’t have to worry about anything, because at least you had him. an universe in which you didn’t have to overthink every little thing he did, wondering whether or not he actually meant it or if he was being his usual flirty self. an universe in which you were able to call him yours.

when school ended and you found yourself at the bus station once again, with kaminari next to you, you began to take off the jacket, having it worn all day and deciding it was time to give it back. but kaminari’s hands stopped you, hovering on top of yours, before you could finish unzipping it. you looked at him questioningly, trying your best to ignore the erratic beating of your heart and the electricity you felt right where your hands were touching.

“you can keep it.” his words confused you even more.

“what? no. it’s your jacket, you’ll get cold and besides it’s-”

“oh please don’t act like you don’t love wearing my clothes.” his tone was teasing, yet knowingly eyes scanned your face and you looked away, a hint of blush across your cheeks.

“whatever, but don’t expect to get it back.” kaminari laughed, his hands leaving your own and you had to hold back from taking it and interlacing your fingers together.

as you parted ways, walking in opposite directions to head back to your houses after a long day at school, you hugged yourself for the second time that day. this time, actually being able to feel warm. both inside and out.

—

« but I watch your eyes

as she walks by

what a sight for sore eyes

brighter than the blue sky

she’s got you mesmerized

while I die »

YOU and kaminari told each other everything, well at least most things. so it didn’t surprise you when he started rambling about yet another girl. don’t get me wrong, you loved him to death, but you had to admit that the boy could be quite unlucky with the ladies, much to own your luck that is. but this time was different and you both knew it. you noticed it in the way he smiled whenever he talked about her, how he was able to light up from just hearing her name, and most importantly, the way he looked at her. and you immediately knew. because it was the same way you looked at him.

she was your classmate and friend, and you could totally understand why kaminari was so smitten with her. she was funny, smart, caring, beautiful; in other words everything you weren’t. and while it’s true you knew it was bad to be envious of people, specially your friends, you simply couldn’t not wish to be her. i mean come on, not only did she have an awesome quirk you had no chance of competing against, she also had the boy you loved wrapped around her finger and she wasn’t even aware of it.

“and then when he was about to- denki, are you even listening?” he wasn’t, but you didn’t want to admit that.

“hm? oh sorry! what were you saying?” his pretty amber eyes looked at you for only a split second, before going back to admire the dark purpled haired girl.

jirou stood a few feet away from you guys, talking and laughing with sero and mina. you could feel your heart slowly breaking as you saw kaminari’s lips curl into a small smile when she briefly looked at him, waving at him in the process. and of course you didn’t miss the way she blushed.

“ah it’s nothing important anyways.”

“hey y/n, do you think i should ask jirou out?”

oh.

you were pretty certain you stopped breathing once your brain registered his words. how could he be so oblivious?! you had been friends since fucking middle school and you were supposed to believe that he never once noticed how hopelessly in love you were with him? did you not show it enough? were you that bad at displaying your love for people? or was he just ridiculously dumb? you desperately hoped it was the latter, because deep down a part of you still believed that there was a possibility for you two. that an us could be possible if you just showed him how serious you were about him.

but the rational part of you was screaming at you to stop being so damn stupid, to finally open your eyes and realize kaminari didn’t and would never reciprocate your feelings. that you were hoping for the impossible to happen, that you were preparing yourself for absolute heartbreak if you thought for a second he would choose you over her. and while you wanted nothing more than to yell at him for being so dense, for not seeing that you were right there, you simply couldn’t. so you went with the safer option.

“y-yeah, you should. i’m sure she’ll say yes.” you were able to muster a smile, and despite the lump in your throat, you feel happiness surge through you as he turns around and gives you a big smile.

“you think so? but what if she says no?”

“any girl would be lucky to have you, denki. you’re sweet, cool, and funny. what more could a girl ask for?” you were only half joking, but of course he didn’t notice.

“well if you say it like that it just sounds like you have a crush on me.” he winked at you and you swore you were about to pass out. not only because of the wink, but because of his sudden implication. (which was a fact)

“you wish,” you snort to make it seem more real, and it seems to work because kaminari’s now pouting at you. “now go get em’ tiger.”

“please don’t say that again.”

“wow okay, cold.”

he stood up, taking a deep breath before walking over to jirou, starting off with a joke as he leaned down on her desk and, as much as she tried to stifle it, a loud laugh escaped her. apparently kaminari’s charm didn’t only work on you. but oh how you wished it did because that way you would be the one getting asked out right now, not her. quite frankly, you would give anything to have him look at you the way he was looking at her right now, as if she was some mystical creature. or better yet, as if he was under some kind of love spell that made him unable to look at anyone else like that.

from the other corner of the classroom, a certain red haired guy looked at you with pity in his eyes, but also concern. he made his way to you, sitting down in kaminari’s previous spot. you sent him a, clearly fake, smile when you noticed it was none other than kirishima, one of your best friends. but he saw right through that.

“hey,” his voice was soft and low, he didn’t exactly want the whole class to know about what was going on. “are you okay?”

you gulped, but still nodded. “of course, why wouldn’t i be?” another fake smile.

“don’t give me that bullshit y/n. you don’t need to lie to me.” that was all you needed to hear before dropping the act, your smile quickly being replaced with a frown and kirishima’s heart hurt for you.

“this sucks,” you say under your breath, looking away towards their direction only to see kaminari playing with one of jirou’s earphone jacks, which obviously made the pain in your chest worsen. “i just want him to look at me the same way he looks at her,” tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes. “is that too much to ask for?” you asked no one in particular as you looked up to kirishima.

“it’s not, but you’ll be okay,” without thinking it twice, he hugged you and you didn’t fight back, instead welcoming the warmth his chest provided you and resting your head against one of his shoulders. “you know he doesn’t know y/n, if he did i’m sure things would be different.”

“i know, but it’s fine. i just want him to be happy.”

even if it’s not with me.

but you don’t say that, preferring to just stay on kirishima’s arms a little longer while trying to ignore the two love birds giggling behind you, your heart breaking more and more each time you heard kaminari’s sweet words. because they weren’t for you, they were for her.

—

« why would you ever kiss me?

i’m not even half as pretty

you gave her your sweater

it’s just polyester

but you like her better

wish i were heather »

HIDING your emotions was something you mastered pretty well by now. you spent years keeping your feelings for kaminari to yourself and you didn’t mind at all; you had come to terms with the fact that this crush was probably one sided a long time ago. so, why did you suddenly felt the need to tell him? it never bothered you, but now, after having to see him every day making heart eyes at her and hear him talk about how cool she was, you thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you just wanted him to have the option; he deserved to know right? or maybe you were just hoping that he would choose you over her. just like you would choose him over anyone in a heartbeat.

but to be honest, you didn’t know what you would do with yourself if he didn’t. if he chose her over you while knowing you loved him too. what if she meant more to him than you did? what if he thought you were outright weird and things became awkward? what if your friendship wasn’t as special as you thought it was? you shook your head, hands coming up to your temples to try and get rid of some of the tension. no, that couldn’t be. you knew he loved you...at least as a friend.

it had been 2 months already since kaminari and jirou started talking. they weren’t oficial yet, but you accidentally overheard her conversation with yaoyorozu a few days ago and heard her complaining about how she wished he finally made a move on her. that somehow relieved you because at least they hadn’t gotten physical yet, but at the same time you wondered if you were being a bad friend by thinking that. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help it. i mean you liked the boy for fucks sake, it was understandable that you weren’t exactly hoping for them to pounce on each other.

“where’s denki?” kirishima asked as he caught up with you in the hallway, both of you making your way to the new dorms.

“don’t know, he left before i could even ask him.” you tried your best to sound neutral, but you knew you didn’t do a good job when you heard kirishima sighing. however, much to your liking, he stayed quiet and didn’t say anything about it, changing the topic to today’s events.

you were grateful to have him; he was the only one who knew about your crush on kaminari and the only one who was able to take your mind off things even for just a little while. soon enough you found yourself laughing by his side as he talked about bakugou’s weird antics and how hot-headed he could be at times, which you had experienced firsthand.

“he was all like ‘hey shitty hair, if you’re not gonna do a good work then fuck off!’ like man calm down, i didn’t even do anything.” you giggled at his accurate impersonation of the angry blonde. shaking your head as you looked up, noticing you were already at the dorms building.

you squinted your eyes when you saw two people standing right in front of the main entrance, but couldn’t make out their faces thanks to the long distance. yet the closer you got, the better you could see them. and once your eyes focused on the couple completely, everything stopped.

it was them.

they were kissing.

right in front of you.

his arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him as if he never wanted to let her go, and her own were wrapped around his neck, caressing his soft blonde hair which you loved to ruffle whenever he laid down on your lap.

they looked so beautiful, straight out of a cheesy romcom movie. the sun was beginning to set and its rays reflected on their skin perfectly, making them look golden. and in that precise moment you realized just how beautiful jirou was and how much she complimented kaminari in every sense of the word. could it be that they were made for each other?

before you knew it, a single tear rolled down your cheek, and you weakly smiled at kirishima when he opened his mouth to try and comfort you, yet no words seemed to come out. because he knew that no matter what he said, the damage was already done. the couple hadn’t even noticed you two, too immersed in their own little world as they giggled and made their way inside, all while holding each other’s hands.

“they make a good couple, don’t they?” you fixed your eyes on your shoes, holding back the sobs that desperately wanted to escape you.

“y/n…” kirishima’s tone was sad, mostly because he didn’t know what to do, but also because he understood perfectly the pain you were going through. he had been experiencing it for a while now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kiri.” you sent him another smile, but right when you started walking towards the entrance he managed to see the tears falling down your cheeks as you bit down on your lower lip.

and somehow, that kiss proved to you that you could never beat her, that she had won over kaminari’s heart. something you could never do.

—

« watch as she stands with her holding your hand

put your arm 'round her shoulder, 

now I'm getting colder

but how could I hate her? 

she’s such an angel

but then again, kinda wish she were dead »

PEOPLE often say one’s happiness shouldn’t relay on others and you had always been a firm believer of that, knowing that people were unpredictable and that they could change at any moment given. so it was only reasonable that you made yourself happy, without needing to depend on other people, yet that didn’t really add up with your current situation. it made you look like a hypocrite.

ever since jirou and kaminari started dating, you had been spending less and less time together. the only time you could have him all to yourself was when you occasionally paired up during training and even then you didn’t really talk much. you were happy everything had worked out for them, and you loved to see kaminari happy, but it hurt you. it hurt so much, to the point that sometimes it was hard to get out of bed. 

you missed your best friend. and you knew it was selfish, but did it even matter at this point? did he he notice how you talked less and less? how you barely smiled anymore? of course he didn’t. he was too busy looking at her anyways, too busy going on dates and learning how to play the guitar just for her. his girlfriend. 

and as much as you wanted to hate them both, you didn’t have it in you. why would you? because they were happy and in love? you weren’t that desperate. but sometimes, as you watched her throw her head back while she laughed at something kaminari said, you wished he had never met her. you wished you never came to UA in the first place, that way they wouldn’t have met and you would probably still have your best friend by your side. no. even if he hadn’t met her, you knew he would never go for a girl like you.

these past few months had been hell for you, you barely left your room unless it was for school, your eating habits couldn’t have gotten any worse, and you weren’t getting any sleep, too busy crying your eyes out as you wondered what the hell you did wrong. and you knew what you were doing wasn’t healthy, but a part of you wished that something really bad happened to you just so kaminari would pay attention to you again. but he didn’t.

today was one of those days, you didn’t feel like getting up your bed just to watch a dumb movie with your classmates, and possible have to witness jirou and kaminari being all lovey dovey right in front of you. the thought alone was enough to make you roll your eyes, scoffing at how much the pair loved PDA. 

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun.” kirishima was currently trying to convince you to go watch a movie with the rest of class 1-A in the common room, but as expected you denied his invitation. “even bakugou is going!” 

“then you’ll be more than fine without me.” 

“i’ll miss you tho.” he gave you puppy eyes and you groaned, placing your pillow over your face.

“since when are you so cheesy?”

“stop trying to change the subject,” a frustrated sigh left his lips, and you lowered your pillow to look at him. he was sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed, a frown evident on his face. “i know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you can’t keep on like this y/n.” you flinched slightly at his serious tone.

“i know,” this time it was you who sighed, weighing your options in your head. you knew kirishima was right and he was trying his best to make you feel better, so the least you could do was make him some company. “okay fine,” his head turned in your direction, looking at you hopefully. “i’ll go, but it better be a good movie.” 

“yes! you won’t regret it, i promise. and if at some point you wanna leave, then we’ll leave, but you have to at least try.” your heart swelled at his consideration; he was too sweet to you and you didn’t deserve it at all.

“you don’t have to do that, kiri.”

“but i want to. i know it’s not easy, so i’m proud of you for doing this.” his words made a lump appear in your throat. maybe you were being overly sensitive, but hearing him say that meant a lot.

it wasn’t long before the clock striked 9PM and everyone started making their way to the common room, chatting happily as they sat down and got everything ready for the night. you watched as people started to take a seat, whether it was on the couches or on the floor, and you started to get a bit anxious when you noticed kaminari walking down the stairs, but jirou was nowhere to be seen. thankfully.

as much as you tried to not let him have an effect on you, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. it was truly inevitable, but what you hated the most was knowing you had no effect on him whatsoever. 

before you could look away and hide from his view, kaminari spotted you. he sent you a big smile, waving his hand before walking over to where you stood. ok, calm down act normal. it’s just denki. you tried to calm yourself down, but your breath hitched in your throat when you suddenly felt his arms engulf you in a tight hug, your arms slowly coming up to his neck to return the gesture. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t miss this feeling. the feeling of being home again. 

but it ended way too fast for your liking.

“hey you! we haven’t hung out in a while, i miss you.” 

because you’re too busy with your girlfriend, asshole. 

“yeah sorry about that, i’ve been kinda busy i guess.” your tone was off and he noticed, but he brushed it off. maybe she’s tired.

“then what are you doing tomorrow? we can go to the mall or wherever you want to.” your head quickly shot up, looking at him with nothing but hope in your eyes.

“really?”

“of course! we need to have some bestie time.” the wink he sent you was playful, but your lips still curved into a smile from hearing him saying he wanted to spend time with you.

“then maybe we can go to this new-”

“hey babe i saved you a seat,” out of the blue, jirou appeared right next to kaminari, slipping her hand into his. and your heart clenched when you noticed he held it back tightly. “oh, hi y/n!” she sent you a warm, genuine smile, and you felt so bad for wanting her to feel your pain. 

“hi jirou.” 

“i was just telling y/n about how we should hang out.” you frowned at him, is he inviting her? 

“oh? where did you plan on going?” 

“i told her she should pick.”

“well that sounds even more fun, any ideas?”

“actually i just remembered i got some homework to finish.” it was a lie, but you didn’t have it in you to third wheel on what was supposed to be a date with your best friend.

“what?” kaminari asked you, not understanding you sudden change in attitude.

“yeah, maybe next time tho.” he wanted to ask what was wrong, but as he opened his mouth to do so, you saw kirishima walking towards the common room with bakugou and took that as your cue to leave the awkward encounter. 

“well that was weird.” he mumbled to himself and jirou looked at him questioningly, wondering what he meant.

“hm? what was that babe?” the blonde shook his head, convincing himself he was probably overthinking things. he placed his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder before walking over to one of the couches. to be more precise, the couch in front of yours. 

you sat beside kirishima, your leg bouncing up and down anxiously as you waited for iida to finally play the goddamn movie so you had something else to pay attention to instead of them. kirishima quickly noticed the unusual movement and was about to ask you what was wrong, but once he saw where your gaze was locked on, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. 

he knew better than to ask you in front of everyone if you were okay, so he just gave your knee a light squeeze, which you highly appreciated and let him know so by smiling at him. after a few minutes that felt like eternity, iida played the movie and told everyone to not make any unnecessary noises and be considerate of your classmates which made you scoff slightly. 

twenty minutes into the movie and everything was going great so far. you had actually managed to get immersed in the plot and found yourself leaning your head against kirishima’s shoulder to get a better view, but also because the effect of not having a stable sleeping schedule was dawning on you. however, just when you thought you were about to fall asleep on your friend’s comfortable shoulder, you heard some giggles. you opened your eyes slowly, frowning when you saw kaminari leaving small kisses on jirou’s neck. your heart felt like it was being stabbed for the hundredth time and you tried to ignore them and just focus on the tv screen. you really tried to remain calm, to keep up your act just as you had done all this months, but you lost it when you heard those three damn words leave his lips.

“i love you.”

it was low, barely even audible, but you heard it. you heard it loud and clear. and just like that, with your heart losing every last bit of hope it had, you stood up from your seat abruptly, making everyone look at you, before making your way upstairs without saying another word. all of your classmates looked between them, not only confused, but also concerned. 

“oi shitty hair,” bakugou spoke from his place next to kirishima, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “go check up on her.” he muttered and kirishima only nodded before walking upstairs to follow you.

bakugou’s words worried kaminari even more, was there something going on with you that he didn’t know about? was that why you were acting so weird earlier? no way, you told him everything. you were best friends after all...right? and with that question on his mind, he couldn’t focus on the movie or his girlfriend anymore.

you walked towards your room silently, even though you wanted nothing more than to scream and fight someone. you wanted, no, needed to let all of your pent up frustration out. you had been patient enough, putting his happiness before your own for years now, and while you knew it wasn’t his fault at all, you wanted to be mad at him about something. you wanted him to understand that this wasn’t fair, that you could be good for him if he gave you the chance, that you wouldn’t be a waste of his time, but the only thing that was coming out of you were tears.

angry tears stained your face as they furiously ran down your cheeks, reminding you of all the sleepless nights you spent alone, crying your heart out to no one but yourself. you stood in front of your room, hand reaching out to the door’s knob to open it and spend yet another night wondering why the hell you weren’t enough. but a hand stopped you.

kirishima’s grip on your forearm was gentle, but firm enough to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, his touch made you want to cry even more. you tried to push him away, telling him that you were perfectly fine, yet your bloodshot eyes told a whole different story. and as much as you kicked and screamed, kirishima knew the last thing you needed was to be alone.

“let go!” seeing that holding your arms had no effect on you whatsoever, he tried a different approach. his strong arms hugged you to his chest, and, as much as you wanted to deny it, you found comfort in them. “i said let me go, kirishima.” 

“no. y/n listen to me. you need to stop bottling all your feelings up, nothing good will come out of that,” you finally started to relax, breathing heavily as you listened to his words. “it doesn’t matter if you talk, cry, or scream, but you need to voice out how you feel. if it’s not to him, then tell me. i’m always ready to listen.” his voice was so gentle, so soft, yet it held so much emotion and honesty. 

more tears fell down your cheeks as you gripped kirishima’s shirt tightly against your fingers, your face hiding comfortably on his chest. 

“i can’t take this anymore kiri,” you started talking and kirishima was quick to hug you a little tighter, one of his hands rubbing small circles on the small of your back. “i miss him so much, i miss my best friend. and i want him to be happy, i really do, but why must his happiness cause me so much pain?” a sob racked through your whole body after hearing yourself say those words, the ones you never thought you’d voice out to someone. “at first it was fine and i didn’t mind that much, but now? we barely even talk anymore, and when we do it’s always small talk. and we used to talk for hours about everything and anything, we would never get bored when we were together. now it’s like i don’t even exist to him except for when he seems to have some time to spare. did our friendship meant shit to him? because fuck i wasted years of my life loving someone who can’t even notice how much i’ve been struggling.” 

by this point your tears had stained kirishima’s shirt almost completely, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck about that. all that mattered was you and only you. the only thought on his mind was how he was gonna make you feel better. so he held you in his arms a little longer, hoping that somehow his actions could express everything he felt. his free hand came up to caress your hair while he shushed you softly, rocking you two back and forth. 

that’s how the night ended. 

you, with your heart broken in a million pieces, longing for the person who made you feel this way. because you knew you would always love him, maybe even more than you loved yourself. you knew that no matter how much you tried to hate him, you could never even get close to feeling anything but pure adoration for the boy. and if having him in your life implied having to handle all this heartache and hurt, then maybe you could endure it. because for him it was all worth it. 

and a certain redhead with all his feelings caught in his throat. he wanted nothing more than to scream at you for not noticing he understood completely how you felt, way more than you imagined, yet he knew that you would always only have eyes for him. but perhaps that was okay. if the only way to be close to you was comforting you because you loved a guy who was too dense to see what he had in front of him, then so be it. in the end it was all worth it for you.

[80s4life]

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

[synmorite]

Good Girl, Bad Boy

Characters: F!Reader, Jared, Jensen

Pairing: J2 x F!Reader

Summary: Jared can't follow Jensen's rules, so Jensen uses Y/N to punish him.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: polyamory, orgasm denial, cock cages, dom/sub relationships, daddy!kink, dom!jensen, switch!reader, switch!jared, M/M sex, anal play, anal sex, oral (m/f receiving), a miniscule dash of fluff. Y'all this smut from the onset!

A/N: So @hoboal87 and I absolutely LOVE to discuss and theorize fics on Bee's Discord server. We work so well together that @writethelifeyouwant challenged us to collaborate on a fic. @negans-lucille-tblr provided the prompt, "Jensen needs to punish Jared, and he's using Y/N to do it." This was written through a series of reblogs, with Alex and I only writing one part at a time with no discussions about what the other was going to do. The original post is here.

Special thanks to @hoboal87 for putting all of the reblogs together, creating such an awesome graphic, and for finishing the fic when I had to tap out to go to sleep. 😂 This was so fun and I'm excited for the next time we do it. (I also highly recommend checking out Alex's masterlist. She has got some amazing fics on there.🥰)

My Masterlist

Alex's Masterlist

“Since you can’t do as you’re told, we’ll have to use this instead,” Jensen grunts as he fastens the cage around Jared’s now softening cock.

Y/N leaned forward and pulled Jared’s wrists up to hook them into the handcuffs attached to the headboard. Jared whined as Jensen grinned and said, “No touching now, baby boy.”

Y/N moves onto Jared thigh, positioning her bare pussy on top of him as Jensen ties Jared's ankles, keeping him spread eagle. Slowly, Y/N starts to rock forward on Jared’s thigh, spreading her slick along his skin. Jared’s gaze zeroed in on his shiny flesh as he let out a low moan at the sight.

"Nuh-uh, babygirl," Jensen scolds you, letting his voice drop. You were already tense from a day full of teasing and you both know its not going to take much for the coil to snap. "If you're gonna get off, you'd better have my cock in you."

Y/N stopped moving immediately with a small whimper.

“Remember that we’re punishing Jared for coming without permission. You don’t want to be punished too, do you? Now you know what to do next.” Y/N nodded as she ran her hand down Jared’s caged cock, to his balls, to his still gaping hole.

Slowly, Y/N started to tease Jared hole. Jensen had instructed him to keep a plug in him while he was in quarantine, edge himself over and over again, but no cumming. Jared, the brat, of course couldn't help himself, sending you a video of him jerking off, spilling himself onto his tan and taut stomach. He'd begged you not to show Jensen, but you knew better than to hide this from him, lest you get your own punishment.

Part of you just wanted to help Jensen punish Jared though. It was one of the few times that Jensen gave you some control. You still had the rules to follow, of course, but it meant that you could play with Jared and watch him become desperate underneath your hands, your fingers. You smiled as you teased a finger into Jared’s hole to press against his prostate as he jerked beneath you. Jensen laughed, “Better hold on tight if you’re gonna play that game Y/N.”

Your mouth waters as you watch Jared's cock twitch in its cage, and he lets out another whimper as you hit his prostate again. Jensen moves behind you, his hand connecting with the bare flesh of your ass. It's not enough to leave a mark, only to remind you that you might be currently domming Jared, but Jensen was the alpha in the room. You let out a low moan when Jensen's fingers run through your slick, and you can practically see the smirk on his face.

"My two perfect little cock-sluts," Jensen works his thumb over your tightest hole. "Whaddya think I'll be the best way to show Jare that he should always follow Daddy's orders?"

You shivered as you pressed back against Jensen’s finger. You worked another finger into Jared and pressed against his prostate again without letting up. Jared’s back arch and he let out such a delicious whine that had goosebumps rising all over your bare skin. Jensen slowly pushed his own thumb through the tight ring of muscles at your hole and you let out your own gasp. You worked yourself back and forth on his thumb before turning your head and asking Jensen, “Can I pick something from the toy box to use on him, Daddy?”

"I dunno, babygirl," Jensen tsks, slipping two fingers into your dripping pussy, causing you to gasp out. You'd been under the same orders as Jared; two weeks without cumming, and the feel of his thick digits inside of you almost sends you over the edge. "Our baby boy wants to be fucked, and I don't think it'll be much of a punishment" -- Jensen slides a third finger into you -- "if we give 'im what he wants."

Jensen twists and pumps his fingers inside you, searching until he finds that spot inside you. You pull your fingers from Jared’s hole unable to continue playing with him as you moan out. You lean forward draping yourself over Jared’s sweat slick skin as Jensen thrusts his fingers in and out, faster and faster. “No coming yet, baby girl. ‘Member what I said? Can’t come till it’s my cock in you.” You whined and nodded before pressing your mouth against Jared’s chest. After Jensen hit that spot again, you bit down into Jared’s chest leaving teeth marks as Jared gasped out and his cock twitched in its cage.

Jared tugs against his restraints, "please, Jen," he begs, "lemme touch." You love seeing Jared like this, desperate and needy, giving all control up to you and Jensen. You want to have his hands on you as well, but you'll have to wait until Jensen's done doling out Jared's punishment. The most you can settle for at the moment, is a rough and sloppy kiss from Jared. You run your hands into his hair, giving it a tug as your tongue licks into his mouth.

“No, no baby boy. Y/N was a good girl, she waited like she was supposed to. You were bad. You don’t get to touch. You don’t get to decide.” Jensen taunted. He came around the side of the bed closest to Jared. Jared looked up at him as you ran your fingertips down his chest, sucking dark marks into the tan skin as you went. Jared whined at Jensen again. “Please Daddy? I can be good!” Jared pulled involuntarily at the restraints again as you tugged a nipple between your teeth. Jensen smirked down at you both before leaning down taking Jared’s mouth hungrily with his own. You watched the kiss, feeling the wetness pooling even more between your thighs. Jensen pulled away and Jared chased his lips, but Jensen stayed just out of reach. “Why don’t you prove it, baby boy?” Jensen said with another smirk.

Jared nodded eagerly, and Jensen let out a barely audible good boy. Jensen brought his lips to yours and smacked your ass again with a command of ‘up.’ You lift your ass into the air, straddling your body over Jared’s, letting your breasts just barely touch his chest. The sound of Jensen removing his belt is like music to your ears, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Jensen wastes no time, swiftly entering you and burying himself to the root. You’re glad he started to open you up with his fingers, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to enjoy this nearly as much. He holds himself there for a moment, before grabbing you by the nape of your neck, bringing your back flush to his chest. “Bet it won’ take ya long to cum, will it, slut?” he grunts as he starts thrusting into you.

You reach your hands down and grip onto Jared’s hips to hold on as Jensen thrusts grow harder and deeper. You can feel the coil tightening and tightening in your belly as Jensen’s hand slides around the front of your throat gripping just tight enough. His other hand slides down over your breasts and belly to start circling your clit harshly. You close your eyes and lean your head back on Jensen’s shoulder, panting. You feel Jensen bite at your neck before whispering into your ear, “Open your eyes baby girl. Look at what we’re doing to our boy.” You open your eyes and look down at Jared. His knuckles are white as his large hands are wrapped around the chain of the handcuffs and his hips are jerking up softly as his cock leaks precum onto his beautiful stomach. He’s making soft whines and whimpers that immediately make you remember the video he sent to you. The one that got him in trouble. Your gaze moves up from his cock and belly over all the little marks you left on his chest, and over his throat that is tensed as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with each deep swallow. Finally, your hungry gaze meets his and you cum with a scream as you meet his lust black eyes.

“See?” Jensen grunts, moving one of his hands down your belly and over your clit. He starts rubbing you, working you through your orgasm and straight into another. You’ve barely come down before the coil snaps again and you sag against Jensen’s body.

“Those who follow the rules get rewarded.” If you weren’t on cloud nine, you’d feel bad for Jared, his cock straining against the cage. “Whaddya want now, babygirl?” Jensen groans as he slows his hips. You’re too orgasm drunk to form any coherent thoughts, all you want now is Jared’s mouth, and Jensen seems to notice when your eyes fall on them and you lick your lips. “You wan’ Jared to eat my cum out of you?” Jensen taunts, and you nod your head.

“Okay, baby, because you’ve been such a good girl, we’ll let Jared use his perfect mouth.” Jared hums in approval, and Jensen speeds up his thrusts, and after a few moments, he’s cumming hot and sticky inside you. He pulls out quickly, and you can feel him dripping down your thighs as you crawl back over Jared, placing your pussy above his mouth.

You grip the headboard next to the handcuffs and lower yourself down. Jared leans forward and licks up your inner thighs collecting the cum that escaped your pussy. He hums happily at the taste as he makes his way to your still dripping hole. The chain rattled as Jared pulled against them again. His long tongue dipped into your hole as you pushed down onto him more.

“Would you like me to remove the handcuffs?” Jensen asked from behind you. Jared pulled back a little as you moved your hips to follow his mouth and said “Yes, Daddy.” Jensen chuckled.

“Oh, baby boy, I wasn’t asking you. I was asking Y/N. Do you want Jared to be able to hold you still? While he eats every last drop of my cum?”

“Yes, please daddy. Please let him touch me.” You whined out.

“Ok, baby girl. For you.” Jensen reached forward and opened the cuffs, releasing Jared’s wrists. His hands immediately flew to your hips and yanked you further down onto his mouth. You let out a gasp as Jensen warned, “That’s the only place you can touch for now, baby boy. No where else.”

Jared agrees happily against your pussy, humming as his tongue moves frantically through your folds. His grip on your thighs tighten, and you’re sure that there will be imprints of his hands bruised on you tomorrow, not that you mind. You grind your pussy against his face harder, chasing one final orgasm, but you wanted to be able to see Jensen when you came-- another punishment for Jared. His name, not Jared’s, is the one you’re going to scream out. As you feel your third orgasm start to crest, you stop, and reach behind you for Jensen, you don’t feel him there, and you let out a needy whine. You turn your head and see Jensen on his belly, tonguing Jared’s hole, and slowly stroking his now-released cock. You reach out and tug on his short strands, not enough to elicit a punishment, but just to get his attention.

“What’s a-matter, baby?” Jensen pulls up, and Jared groans at the loss of Jensen.

“Need you, Daddy,” you moan. “Wanna see you when I cum.”

You turn yourself around so that you’re now facing Jensen, who starts working his cock into Jared. You lean forward, so that Jared’s cock is right under you, you look up at Jensen with wide eyes, asking silent permission to take his cock in your mouth.

“You don’t cum until I say so,” Jensen places his hand on Jared’s thigh, and you know he’s talking to both of you. “If you do, I’ll only be using those slutty mouths of yours for the next two weeks, and you won’t be able to cum that whole time, is that understood?”

You lift off of Jared slightly so that Jensen can hear a “Yes, Daddy,” from each of you.

You work Jared into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him as deep as you can. One of Jared’s hands disappears from your thigh as starts teasing your hole, working you into a frenzy. Jensen either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, but you’re sure that he’ll make Jared pay for his disobedience later. When Jensen gives him permission, Jared cums with a groan, hot and salty down your throat, and you greedily swallow every drop.

Jensen then pulls out of Jared, stroking himself as his spills over Jared’s stomach. “If you’re good, next time I’ll cum in this tight little ass of yours,” he scolds. “Now, since Y/N is the only one who can be a good girl, you’ve got 30 seconds to make her cum, or you’ll be wearing that cock cage for another week.”

Jensen scoops up his cum with his fingers, and brings them to your mouth, where you eagerly suck them dry. It only takes another moment before you cum a final time on Jared’s face. You take a moment to catch your breath before crawling off of Jared, and lay down next to him, Jensen appearing at your other side, sandwiching you between the boys.

“Y’all miss me?” Jensen breaks the silence.

“You know it’s not the same when you’re not here,” Jared speaks over you. “Now that The Boys is done, you can have a role on Walker. Come home to us every night.”

[cierrabiscuits]

Koutaro Bokuto x Fem Reader: Eligible Bachelor

 Summary: Some of the MSBY team are scheduled at a charity event and are auctioned off for dates, you being the manager go with them. The team is well aware of your crush on Bokuto and put a plan in motion. What’s the worst that can happen. 

 Words: 5.1K

 Warnings: Angst if squint, happy ending, MSBY 4 being sold as dates for Charity.

 Authors Note: Hello! This is my first time posting a fic so go easy on me, I hope you all enjoy it and get a good laugh out of it like I did! This is part of a collab with @ambershaydeoffical! Please support all the talented writes who participated. 

Update: I made a route for Sakusa! Find that here

Update: I made a route for Atsumu! Finda that here

Story

“Alrighty boys are you ready to go on in?” You said staring at the four well dressed men  behind you.

 “No, and I want to go home.” Sakusa adjusted his black facemask. He wasn’t keen on coming to this event whatsoever.

 “Sakusa I know, but I really need you! Besides what would you be doing anyway? It's Valentine's day and you're as single as single gets. Live a little. Maybe you will find your Mrs.Clean tonight! Ya never know!” You said as he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

 “Omi-Omi don't be that way. Our lovely manager here worked hard to get us this opportunity, and it's benefiting a charity you scrooge.” Atsumu smacked Sakusa’s back.”I think your just upset because you know all the ladies are going to bid on me.” The blond setter smirked at the very pissed Sakusa who just glared at him.

 “NOoO It's going to be me who gets all the bids. I still have my tan from Brazil and I’m alot cooler than all of you.” Hinata piped up, proudly adjusting his tie that had little volleyballs on it. 

 “Well if we don’t get our asses in that building, aint none of y’all getting any bids, besides I’m freezing to death,” You said rubbing your arms. The dress you wore done little to protect you from the cold night. 

 “Take this please, I don’t want to freeze to death. I like you warm and alive.” Bokuto, who's been oddly quiet, spoke up wrapping his grey tux jacket around your shoulders leaving him in his blue button up. You could smell his cologne on the jacket, you could drown in this and wouldn't complain. Your cheeks ran hot and you managed to let out a “thank you” through chattering teeth.

 “Okay let’s get going.” You said wrapping the jacket tighter around you as the boys followed you like baby ducks. Bokuto walked up beside you while the two boys bickered over who would have the most bids in the back, Sakusa wanted no part in it and stayed to himself. You look at Bokuto  who seemed nervous. You decided to hype him up a bit before he went into emo mode. “Bokuto you are going to have some gorgeous high profile women coming after you tonight, I’m jealous of them.” You didn't lie, you had the biggest crush on Bo, ever since you took the job as the MSBY manager. You never have a frown on your face next to him- until now. You knew he’d have a woman, that's not you, by his side tonight. You’d bid on him until your bank went in the negative but you don’t get paid like the women at this event do.

 “You wait and see, I’ll have the most beautiful one by time the night is out.” Bokuto said, smiling at you. You felt a pang of sadness creep on you, if he only knew. 

 The warm air of the ballroom felt nice against your cool body. You gave Bokuto his jacket back, you secretly wished you could keep it forever. You took in your surroundings, the ball room was filled with women in designer dresses and you could see the small stage in the middle of the room. 

 “Guys I have to find the event coordinator and see what time you guys need to get on stage. Please be on your best behavior, there are cameras everywhere. Atsumu keep the drinking to a minimum, Shoyo for the love of God go to the bathroom now, Omi keep these fools in line and you better be nice to people and last but never the least Bokuto, If you dance please be careful, I don’t want to take you to the ER again because you hit the Cha cha slide too hard. And with that I’m out. I’m counting on you guys.” You said giving them a thumbs up as you got lost into the sea of people to hunt the event coordinator. 

~

 “Thank you so much Y/N! Everyone is looking forward to the auction. We have some models and a couple pop stars who will be in the line up as well as a few volunteers . I want your boys to go at the end, as they say ‘always save the best for last’.” The coordinator spoke over the bustling crowd. She went over the rules and where they needed to go and what time to line up. You soaked in all the information the bubbly coordinator was giving you. “I have to go let the rest of the people know the game plan. Please have your guys here and lined up in half an hour. Thank you again!” And with that she disappeared into the crowd. Now here came the hard part.

You scanned the large ballroom to find your heathens. Sakusa would be the easiest to find because he is most likely on one of the four corners in the building. Hinata was most likely with Bokuto, and Atsumu was a wild card, he could be at the bar, maybe even on the dance floor trying to impress girls with his dance moves(That suck by the way). You recall the time you found him passed out in a bush drunk off ass at a gala last year. You make up a game plan, you would get Bo and Hinata first, then find a hopefully sober Tsumu and lastly get Sakusa (you figured it best not to drag him around the ballroom) You spot Bokuto’s tall figure next to a snack bar, and as you figured Hinata was with him. They were both stuffing their mouths with meat kebabs and other foods like wild animals, they sure love to eat you thought. 

 “Bokuto,Hinata, they are getting ready to line everyone up, wait for me over there.” You said pointing towards an area that was not  too terribly crowded.

 “HEY HEY HEY Y/N try one of these things, they are so freakin good.” He shoved a cake pop in front of your face. You took it from the gray haired boy.

 “Thank you Bo, but we really need to go.” You took a bite from the cake pop. “Wow that is really good.” You said finishing it in one bite. You heard some snickers from a group of girls, they made a smug comment about you eating it all at once. You normally would throw hands but you had an image to uphold. You shouldn't let it bother you but it did.

 “Hey don’t let that bother you, besides I like a girl that can eat.” Bokuto said, patting your head. He is literally the human version of sunshine. 

 “Thanks Bo. But really we need to get the move on, I still have to hunt Tsumu down. Can you and Hinata wait for me over there.” You said pointing to the area again.

 “Roger that.” They said unison. 

  “I’ll be right back.” You said going back into the crowd. You checked the dancefloor first and he wasn't there(You were relieved he was not.). You made your way to the bar and found him surrounded by women who were mesmerized by his thick accent. You waved him down and he nodded and turned his attention back to the group he had attracted.

 “It looks like It's time fer’ me to go, make sure you all bid for me. I’ll be a waitin’” He said getting up and following you. The women he had been entertaining giggled as he walked away.

 “Look at you being a player. I didn’t expect that from a man who yells at girls when they cheer for him.” You leaned into him so he could hear you over the crowd.

 “I’m just tryin’ to raise some money, it's strictly business. My heart belongs to volleyball for the most part.”He said winking at you. He truly is just a fool in love with the sport. 

You led Atsumu to the group and went to retrieve poor  Sakusa. You looked around for a few minutes and felt a tug at the back of your shirt. You turn around and see Sakusa towering over you. 

 “This is new, I’m used to finding you sulking in a corner.” You said staring into his black eyes. 

 “I watched you gather everyone up, I figured I would come on over to make it easier for you.” He began to walk towards the rest of the group.

 “I guess being 6’4 has its perks huh Omi? You're like a watchtower.” You said looking up at the tall spiker.

 “Yeah, guess so.”He said playing with one of his dark curls.

~~

 “Okay we have everyone, so you guys are going last, I’ll leave who goes first to you guys. Now let's go get lined up.” You lead them to the stage and let them line up. Atsumu insisted on going first, Hinata would go after him, then Sakusa and lastly Bokuto. 

 “You owe me some umeboshi after this.” Sakusa said, taking his mask off and putting it in the pocket of his tux.

 “Sure thing. I'll even throw in a thing of nice smelling hand sanitizer for the trouble.” You crossed your arms and smirked at him.

 “I’ll hold you to that.” He said, filing behind Hinata.

 You looked at Bokuto who appeared to be a nervous wreck. He had a small layer of sweat on his forehead and his hands were shaking slightly. “Hey it's going to be okay, I’ll be right here.” You said pulling out your handkerchief and dabbing the sweat off his forehead. “You're amazing and dare I say you're the best looking one.” You said making him blush.

 “Ummm HEY.” Atsumu said glaring at you, obviously butt hurt from your comment. Sakusa was unamused and took it upon himself to kick Atsumu. That gave you the opportunity to turn your attention back to the nervous male beside you. Before you could comfort him the loud speaker cut you off.

 “Ladies and gentleman, would you please give your attention to the center stage, the date auction will begin momentarily.” The coordinator announced causing everyone to tense up a bit.

 “Come on guys loosen up a bit, I’m going to be in the front taking pictures for our instagram page. So show off a little! Show them you are proud to be a part of such an awesome volleyball team!” You hyped them up one last team. “With that being said I want a group picture so bring it in guys.” You said pulling the camera and ushering the athletes into the frame. “Say cheese.” Atsumu wrapped his arm around Sakusa who didn’t have the chance to push him off, Bokuto gave Hinata bunny ears. It was a chaotic photo, but It caught their true essence. 

 “I want a picture with you before you go Y/N. Pleaseee.” Bokuto gave you puppy dogs eyes and you couldn't deny him.

 “Sure Bo. Atsumu here.” You handed him the camera and got beside Bokuto. He wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close to him. You could feel his muscles through the tux that fit just a little too good. 

 “Aww you look like a cute couple.” Atsumu teased as he brought the camera up to snap a picture. You couldn't make a comeback as embarrassment washed over you. You looked up at Bokuto who had a blush adorning his handsome face.

 “Y/N I’m going to do something, don’t get mad.” Bokuto said, picking you up bridal style before you could even protest.

 “That’s what I’m talking about!” Atsumu said, snapping more pictures. 

 “Bokuto put me down, I'm heavy!” You shriked  gripping onto his tux.

 “No you're not. I could carry you around all night like this if you wanted me to!” He smiled down at you! You felt your face light up like a Christmas tree. No matter how big or small you were, Bokuto always made you feel like a princess. 

 “As much as I’d love you to, we gotta get this ball rolling.” You said as he gently placed you back on your feet. “I’ll be taking that.” You said snatching the camera from Atsumu who was smirking. He seemed to be hiding something from the way he was acting. He is definitely sus you thought. You waved the boys goodbye and made you way to the front of the crowd. You got the camera ready as the spotlight of the stage flickered on. 

 “Thank you all for coming out tonight! We hope you are ready to see the heartthrobs we have lined up for you!!” The announcer said setting the tone. “Valentine's day is all about love and being with one another. So if your single, ladies, pull those yen out and let’s get to business!” The crowd cheered and applauded as the auction began.

You didn’t pay much attention to the men coming on stage, your only worry was the last 4. You scrolled through the camera to see the pictures Atsumu took of you and Bokuto. Bokuto had such a wide smile on his face in the pictures, your smile was just as big, even though your face was full of panic in the one where he effortlessly picked you up. You’re pulled from your day dream when you heard the announcer’s voice.

 “We have some special guests tonight from the MSBY volleyball team! We’ll start first with Miya Atsumu!” The announcer said as Atsumu walked on the stage like he owned it. He flipped his hair and looked at the group of women he serenaded earlier and blew them a kiss. You got lucky and snapped a picture of it, he may be annoying as hell but he knows how to get women. He had about ten women fighting over him, his bids kept going up and up. After a cutthroat battle he was sold for roughly  200,000 yen. He smirked and walked off the stage. You couldn’t help but chuckled to yourself, he’d be one of a kind if he didn’t have a twin. 

 “Up next we have Hinata Shoyo!” She said as the tangerine headed boy shly walked on stage. He looked confident for the most part and he thankfully went to the bathroom before this. He had on one of his classic charming but cute smiles. You could hear girls behind you talk about how cute he was. His skin was glowing under the spotlight thanks to the Brazilian sun. His bids went up high, he ended up being sold for 120,000 yen. He waved at the audience and bounced off the stage.

 “Let’s welcome our next bachelor who just so happens to be the tallest one tonight, Sakusa Kiyoomi!” You watched on edge as Sakusa walked out, he didn’t seem nervous but he wasn’t all that interested either, he stood in the middle of the stage like a statue. To make matters worse he wasn’t smiling. You grabbed his attention for a moment and smiled as wide as you could and pointed at your face, you felt like one of the psychotic moms from toddlers and tiaras but you had to do something or he wasn't going to get any bids. You mouthed the words “Smile please” at him and he finally took the hint. He had an awkward but cute smile on his face finally. You relaxed a little and resumed taking pictures. His bids began to go up and quick. Sakusa looked at the exit of the stage and smirked at someone and turned his attention back to the crowd. You could only guess he was looking at Atsumu who was probably pissed at how high Sakusa’s bids were. Sakusa was sold for a whopping 500,000 yen. You know Tsumu’s ego was damaged beyond repair right now. Sakusa bowed and left the stage. 

 “Now let’s end this night right! We have one more contest so let’s welcome Bokuto Koutarou to the stage!” You felt your heart drop and the announcer said his name. You had to watch someone you loved dearly be bid off to some rich girl who would probably steal him away. You tried to knock away negative thoughts but you couldn’t help it. He looked sinfully good when he walked on stage. What nervousness he felt was gone and now it’s nothing but his overwhelming confidence. He carefully watched one specific area of the crowd. You snapped pictures of him (a lot of them being for your personal collection) as he walked around the stage flexing and showing off. His eyes met yours a lot and he seemed to be smirking at you. But his attention always went back to the one area of the crowd. You heard his bids go up, one particular girl was bidding for him like her life depended on having him. Her voice came from the direction he kept starting at. He looked nervous when anyone but her called out a bid. You began to get ate up with pure jealousy, you wish you could take him off the stage and run away with him right then and there. The bids kept going up and up and the girl that kept bidding on him got him for 150,000 yen. He looked ecstatic. He looked at you and smiled before he went off stage. Your heart dropped and you wanted to leave, but you still have work to do. 

 “That concludes the auction tonight! If you won you can meet up with your bachelor over here on the left.” The announcer pointed towards the group of men. You made your way to find the guys so you can take more pictures and let them know where you’ll be when they get done.

 “You guys did awesome!” You said running up to them. They gave you a soft smile. You notice Bokuto was MIA. “Umm guys, where is Bo?” They hesitated for a second but your conversation was cut short as the boys dates for the evening came up.

 “Sakusa was it?” A well dressed man walked up to the tall volleyball player. You noticed a small girl clutching his dress shirt. She couldn’t be any older than 8. “This is my daughter, she wanted someone to dance with her but in all honesty I’m trying to make some business deals while I’m here, keep her company for me.” The man patted his shoulder and slipped some extra money in Sakusa’s shirt pocket, leaving him slacked jawed. 

  “All the umeboshi your heart desires, a big box of the nice face masks you like, and whatever else you want, just please be nice to this poor girl. She looks sad.” You whispered into Omi’s ear trying to persuade him a little more.

 “I didn’t come here to babysit, but I guess I can.” He said low enough that the girl couldn’t hear. Omi peered down at the small girl, she actually had moles on her face kinda like he does but on the opposite side.

 “Umm hi.” She said looking up at the tall man. She seemed nervous. You nugged Omi in the side to get him to say anything.

 “When was the last time you washed your hands?” He asked the girl and you could have choked him. The girl giggled at his statement.

 “I wash my hands all the time! Look my mom even bought me this!” She pulled out a small key chain with a rabbit on it, attached was a small bottle of hand sanitizer. “Would you like some?” She said opening the cap. Sakusa held his hand as the small girl poured some into his hands and she gave herself some as well.

 “Good.” Sakusa said, pulling his mask from his pocket to put it back on. The little girl grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. You knew this was way out of his comfort zone, but he was still doing it. 

 “Omg your hair is so cute! Can I touch it?” You whipped your head around to see a young bubbly girl talking to Hinata. 

 “Umm s—s sure.” He said nervously as the girl ran and hand through his hair. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. The poor baby seemed so embarrassed. The dance floor was filled with couples and the girl dragged Hinata to the dance floor before he could even get her name. You turned to Atsumu who looked like he had seen a ghost.

 “Young man I’m getting my money's worth tonight so let's go dance.” An old lady who you thought resemble Baba Yaga from spirited away stood in front of poor Atsumu. 

 “Yes ma’am.” He said, forcing a smile.  He looked at you pleasing eyes that screamed “please save me Y/N”. You shook your head at him.

 “Pay attention to me boy, I paid good money for you.” The old lady said whacking Atsumu with the cane she carried.

 “Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” He said walking with the old woman to the dance floor. You had to turn your head and laugh, between Sakusa getting stuck babysitting a kid and Atsumu being stuck with a senior citizen after talking all that smack, it was priceless. You guess them ladies Atsumu talked to must not have liked him that much.

You searched around for Bokuto to make sure he got his date for the night, you were also curious who she was and how pretty she was. You felt that jealousy creep back on you. This was going to be a long night. You finally spot Bokuto talking to a drop dead beautiful girl, she looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place her. She and Bokuto seemed to be having a good time, she was laughing at something he had said. Your heart shattered. You look back up to see Bo making eye contact with you. All you could do was smile and get lost in the crowd before he could see the stray tear falling down your cheek. You needed to get outside for a bit, you felt like you were suffocating. You fought the crowd and finally made your way to the exit. You pushed the metal door open. The cold night felt good against your hot skin. You walked down a path in front of the building and tried to collect yourself. 

 “Another year alone and single.” You blurted out to yourself. You find a small bench and decide to sit down for a bit. The night sky brought a sort of comfort to you. The stars twinkled and the moon casted a peaceful light. The cold was getting to you but you were afraid to go back in. You mentally couldn’t handle it. 

 “PARKOUR.” You felt your soul leave your body as you saw a shadow jump over the bench you were sitting on. You flinched back ready to fight off the attacker only to be met with Bokuto standing in front.

 “BO you scared me to death!” You said inhaling a deep breath and clutching your chest.

 “I’m sorry my parkour was so awesome it scared you.” He said, taking his jacket off and draping it yet again around your cold body. Your nose flooded again with the scent of his cologne. It’s calmed you down in a bittersweet way. “But angel what are you doing out here, you’ll get sick if you're not careful.” He kneeled down a bit and pulled the jacket around your cold body more. 

 “I could ask you the same things Mr. Parkour, you have a beautiful woman in there waiting on you, so stop wasting your time on me.” You said trying to hold it together.

 “Well I’m more concerned with the real beautiful one sitting right in front of me.” He said grabbing your shaking hands. Your eyes went wide with what he said.

 “Bo I’m confused?” You said looking into his golden eyes.

 “Well that woman you saw me with is not really my date, yes she did bid on me, but she was never my real date. She is actually the guy who owns our gym's daughter! She agreed to bid on me, but in return she wanted a date with Atsumu’s brother and he agreed to do it! The team helped me do this so I could be with you tonight, but I guess it didn’t go as smoothly as I planned. I’m sorry I made you sad.” Bokuto sat beside you on the bench,

 “Bokuto are you low key confessing to me?” You looked over at him and he smiled and shook his head. 

 “Yes and let me do this properly.” He cleared his throat and held his hand out for you to grab, which you gladly accepted. “Y/N please let me be your date tonight and from here on out please!”  

 “So like boyfriend and girlfriend Bo?” You said wanting to make sure you got the message right.

 “Yes Y/N, please be my girlfriend. All that flexin on the stage was for you baby!” He stood up and flexed again making you laugh. “But in all seriousness, I freakin love you. So what do you say Y/N?” 

 “Yes. I would love nothing mo-“ Bokuto cut you off by lifting your body into his strong arms. You giggled as he swung you both in circles. He slowed down and seen you finally smile again

 “Now that’s a pretty sight, you're not going to be sad on my watch anymore. Now we better get back inside before we freeze to death!” Bokuto wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two began to walk back. “Wait I have something for you!” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a small jewelry box and handed it to you. You opened it and there was a necklace with a small owl charm and a “B” charm next to it.

 “Bo this is so cute! Can you help me put it on!” You said handing him the necklace. He struggled to get it on but finally got it. The silver was cold on your skin, but you didn’t mind at all.

 “Omi actually helped me pick it out, believe it or not. He said if I would have went alone I would have got something stupid.” Bokuto said, sliding the jewelry box back into his coat pocket. You hate to admit it but Sakusa going was probably a good thing. 

 “Bo I really love it, thank you.” You said leaving up and kissing his cheek. “Now let’s go back, I’ve got to check in on everyone.” You walked into the ballroom with your arm hooked around Bokuto’s bicep. 

You scanned the room to see if you could find any of the guys and the only one you could see was Hinata laughing with his date. They seemed to be hitting it off pretty good. “Bokuto let’s go get something to drink.” You both walked towards the bar, you see that girl who bid on Bokuto sitting next to Osamu. They both seemed to be having a good time.

 “Thank you again! The planned worked Y/N is my girlfriend now!” Bokuto walked up to them and showed you off. 

 “I’m so glad!” The girl said, clasping her hands together. “You are a cute couple.” 

 “Speaking of a cute couple.” Osamu chimed in and pointed towards his brother Atsumu who was being dragged around by that old lady. “I may have given her some free Onigiri vouchers and a few hundred yen to bid on him.” The twin laughed at his brother's despair. 

 “Your evil, but I like it.” The girl said as they clinked their drinks together. 

 “You guys enjoy it, we still have to hunt for Omi.” You bowed and clung back on to Bokuto. 

After circulating the ballroom a few times you finally find Sakusa and the little girl sitting at a table. Sakusa looked dead tired and the little girl was stuffing her face with cake

 “Omi you look like a tired dad.” Bokuto said bursting out laughing at his teammate. 

 “I see your plan worked.” Sakusa said, looking at the necklace through tired eyes. 

 “Yes it did now this cutie is all mine.” Bokuto said peppering your cheek with kisses.

 “How disgusting, when you grow up don’t date idiots like him.” Sakusa looked at the child who just nodded her head. It was hilarious to see Omi so out of his element. “That was directed at you Bokuto not Y/N.” 

 “Omi, he is a idiot but he is my idiot.” You patted Bokuto's back. 

 “Omi-Omi let’s go dance some more. I like this song.” The little girl tugged on his jacket. 

 “Fine.” Omi sighed and followed her dance floor.

 “Now that we know everyone (for the most part) is okay let’s dance!” You said leading Bokuto to the dance floor.

 You danced to every single song and Bo didn’t break anything when the cha cha slide came on. He swung you around all night without a care in the world. 

 “Let’s end the night with something nice and slow.” The Dj said putting on (Insert your favorite slow song)

  “May I have this dance pretty girl?” Bokuto asked, holding his hand out to pull you closer to him.

 “The Macarena may have wore me out, but I guess I have enough wind in me for one last song.” You teased wrapping your arms around his neck. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and began to slowly dance you around the room. 

 You see that little girl struggling to keep up with Omi’s big steps as he attempted to dance with her, he was at least trying you thought. Hinata was slow dancing with his date of the night, they both seemed comfortable and content with each other. Atsumu was still with that granny but he seemed to have accepted defeat as he danced around with her. Osamu danced with the gym owner's daughter and made it a mission to kick his brother when they got close enough, he even messed him up enough to cause the old to hit him with the cane again. You felt Bokuto's grip tighten and he dipped you down enough to finally kiss you on the lips. He pulled away and brought you back up to continue dancing. 

“ I love you Y/N.” Bokuto spoke softly in your ear. 

 “I love you too.” You said as the song faded out.

   “And one more thing Y/N” Bokuto said, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I told you I would have the most beautiful girl here.”

Fin

[friendofhayley]

Monthly shout-out to every fanfic creator for all fandoms! Thank you for posting your talent for free and making our fandoms a more creative place. <3 This fic rec includes 12 fics from One Direction, Harry Potter, and Teen Wolf fandoms.

Larry (One Direction)

1. Praise the Mutilated World by @eeveelou, @creamcoffeelou | dystopian AU - A/B/O - on par with Hunger Games for dystopian world/plot - maybe its the feminism but I saw some parallels between governing of vagina-welders and omegas - 106k

It was August when everything changed.

By October, the leaves changed, and so did Louis’ heart.

2. i'll be someone who won't be forgotten by @socialiststyles | oof oof oof this hit close to home (for Sagittariuses) - love confessions - friends to strangers to lovers - angst with a happy ending - 27k

"I’m just—" (Harry hiccups) "there’s a lot here."

And – yeah. There are oceans between them and mountain ranges surrounding them and Louis can feel tectonic plates shifting beneath his unsteady feet, pulling them further and further apart by the heartbeat. There are countries of distance, but there are pages and maps and textbooks of shared histories, moments documented and carefully filed away and Louis can’t remember thinking complete thoughts before he thought of Harry.

3. Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by @lesbianiconharrystyles | this was so soft and lovely - gAyBO - omega/omega - fluff and anxiety - 1k

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

4. falling, catching by tsuneni | light academia - first time - strangers to lovers - creatives in love - 23k

Harry’s jotting down some more notes when he feels a thud on his right shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, thank God, because when he turns his head to the right his suspicions are confirmed. The boy has fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder.

When Harry lets out the breath he had been holding, the sleeping boy pushes his nose further into the burgundy fabric of Harry’s sweater, and wraps his arm around Harry’s waist.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

Wolfstar (Harry Potter)

5. I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @lenscribbles | I loved that Remus was a POC and his Syrian mother is amazing - friends to lovers - mutual pining - and nothing bad happens to them ever in the future :) - 12k

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

“You are wicked, wicked wizards,” Remus moans from where he refuses to get up on his bed, covering his face with his hands, a good call on his end considering that the very next moment he feels a cascade of confetti pouring all over him. “The worst of the worst! You deserve to rot in Azkaban!”

“Oh how you flatter us Moonykins,” Sirius croons, pulling him up while James and Peter begin a frankly awful rendition of For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.

6. Our Destiny in the Stars by orphan_account | non-magical AU - body insecurity issues - trans Sirius - amputee Remus - 11k

Having no luck in the dating field, and insecure about his body, Remus checks out a dating website which offers the users the opportunity to get to know a person before seeing what they look like. It's during this time he meets Sirius, an enthusiastic teacher--and they immediately click. When they agree to meet, Remus sees a photo of Sirius and immediately panics. He's too good looking to ever be interested in someone like Remus. What the tawny-haired man doesn't know, is Sirius has already checked him out online and has fallen head over heels for the adorable editor.

Drarry (Harry Potter)

7. Old Magic (series) by @mystickitten42 | Drarry runs away together pree-HBP - very realistic getting-together - Narcissa is the GOAT - poor Sirius stuck in the middle - 2+ parts

Harry is undeniably numb. Still reeling from the sudden death of his godfather, he’s back at the Dursleys and everything seems hopeless. One day bleeds into the next. But, as they say, nature abhors a vacuum…

Draco is unimpressed. The Dark Lord and his infernal giant snake have taken over Malfoy Manor and he’s confined to his rooms. He feels like a prisoner and it’s just not right. He’s a Malfoy. Itching for confrontation he decides to go visit Harry Potter.

Things don’t go according to plan.

8. The Importance of Being Draco Malfoy (series) by @upon-poppyhills | this is just great, I love that without memories Draco is without prejudice - Harry goes from suspicious to denial to crushing - brief but wonderful Draco/Justin Finch-Fletchley - I can't wait for everyone to find out about Draco's head - 3+ parts

The answer to the age-old question, "What if instead of a scratch on the arm, Buckbeak had stomped on Draco's head instead and caused tragic memory loss?"

It was a truth universally acknowledged that the path to reforming a Slytherin prince never did run smooth.

9. Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by @xx-thedarklord-xx, @llap115 | I confused this with another fic so I never read it until now and it's THE BEST - Drarry talk like dark academia boys sometimes - I'm so glad Draco had Regulus T.T - when he meets the Regulus portrait!! *screams* - 86k

As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

10. bury the dead where they're found by @rocketdocket | THIS FIC is the ultimate found family fic - sometimes people prefer the closet and that's awesome! - PTSD and suicidal thoughts - queer people are just better than the straights, sorry not sorry - 52k

The war is over. Or at least, that's how it feels for everyone else. But not for Harry. He can't escape the memories and the nightmares of the war, or his guilt about those who died for him. While all he wants is to be alone, finding a family in the most unlikely of places may be just what he needs.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

11. A Californian Werewolf in New York by @dancinbutterfly, knight_changes | I love that Oz from Buffy is just there - friends to lovers - bottom Derek - misunderstandings - 16k

When Derek finally realizes that there's nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home.

12. (they say) this should feel something like fire by dallisons | mental and physical trauma - Boyd & Stiles friendship - dream!Erica - rebuilding - 11k

"Turn it off." The pack looked up, stunned into silence by the first words they'd heard from him in weeks.

Stiles stood, trembling - his knees weak. He tried to run and collapsed, his bad leg failing him once again. Derek caught him. "Turn it off," he said, his voice unmistakably a growl.

The water continued leaking from the loose faucet, and all Stiles heard was Erica's blood against the concrete. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

[wildlyglittering]

Love in an Elevator

Happy Sunday everyone!

Thank you to those who have liked, commented and re-blogged my pieces so far - you are *chef’s kiss* awesome. 

How’s the ACOSF discourse coming? I’m watching it all whilst slurping my tea but very much staying out of it. I’m cracking on with my fanfiction though, am feeling weirdly inspired lately which is rare but I’ll take it! 

In a few weeks I’ll probably ask if anyone has any requests as I’m feeling up for the challenge. I’m slow but I’ll get there in the end. 

In the meantime I hope you enjoy this one!

***

There was no getting out of the predicament she’d found herself in, no matter how much she begged - and she had begged.

She’d thrown in some negotiations and when those offerings failed, she’d feigned a nonchalance that was as transparent as water. The very last weapon in her arsenal had been to fling mean spirited insults but those spurred him on more.

Then again, she grinned to herself, didn’t she know they would?

Nesta’s arms were stretched upwards above her head, the backs of her hands pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. Two large hands held them in place with a grip that refused to relent, the skin of her captor so hot he must have been burning.

At some point his mouth had moved from hers to her throat, his head dipping down while she strained hers back, her neck arching to give him better access. She always provided an initial protest. I don’t want your filthy mouth on me. The waiter from the restaurant looked like he was able to provide more satisfaction than you and he could hardly stand. I think I should go home now before my evening ends in disappointment.

It was a game they played and they played it well.

That hot mouth travelled to a sensitive spot, lips skimming her skin to the point where they scarcely touched her. A whine escaped her, short and shrill enough that she’d hoped he hadn’t heard but from the quirk of his lips on her throat that she did feel, she knew he had.

“Patience is a virtue,” he trilled at her and her own lips turned into a sneer.

“I’m just trying not to die of boredom.”

Nesta’s voice was far too breathless for the barb to land and he chuckled.

“Sure,” he murmured, “and that’s why you sound like you’re a filly in a stable right now.”

“Shut up, Cassian.”

“Mmm. Make me.”

His mouth was on hers again, lips hot and greedy, tongue gliding against hers. He tasted faintly of the scotch he’d been drinking at dinner and he would be tasting red wine.

Cassian was somehow lazy and energetic with his kisses.

He kissed like his goal was to steal every breath she might ever make but he did it so leisurely, so languidly, like he’d managed to switch the passage of time off to allow for it. He pulled back his mouth to suck her bottom lip between his before soothing it over with his tongue.

One day he’d probably make someone combust from kissing them. Not her though, she’d built up an immunity.

Nesta squirmed; her muscles straining in her back. Thankfully yoga had made her limber over the years so that any discomfort was minimal but still, she needed to exhibit some form of protest.

Cassian slid his mouth from hers and glanced at her, it was a brief check in to make sure he wasn’t hurting her, his eyes quick to turn gentle even with his pupils dilated into blackness. She could tell all this from one look. Cassian had such expressive eyes.

Nesta mentally chased the endearment away and pouted. Cassian’s faced slipped from worry to amused, his lips tipping into an arrogant smirk. He chuckled and dipped his head down to suck on the skin of her collarbone.

“Nice try sweetheart, but it’s not going to happen.”

She let out a sigh, half irritation and half bliss, which turned into a moan when he doubled his efforts and sucked harder.

If Nesta had any decency, she wouldn’t be letting him doing this to her in the elevator of his apartment building. If Nesta had any decency, she would pull her body away instead of rubbing it against his.

If Nesta had any decency, she wouldn’t have been the one to make the first move as soon as the doors had closed.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut. Her heart pounded its rhythm in her chest and her blood rushed in her ears. Her pulse thrummed everywhere, everywhere, including the place Cassian hadn’t yet reached for.

Still, it was as though he read her thoughts, and he elevated some of the ache by pressing his pelvis against hers, his crisp dress pants rustling as he stepped further between Nesta’s legs.

He lazily flexed his hips against hers and she rocked back, her dress slipping further up her thighs, expanses of bare skin showing to an empty cube. His tongue pressed against the pulse point at the join between her neck and shoulder and she gasped, eyes flying open.

Every. Time.

Once Cassian had figured out what made Nesta’s body hum he’d seemingly made it his personal mission to turn a tune into an orchestral delight.

Her eyes refocused past the swimming haze that Cassian drowned her in and what she saw must have reached some part of her brain that hadn’t vacated her head.

The numbers on the elevator display kept increasing. Five, Fifteen, Fifty.

There was no danger of anyone calling the elevator, the apartment building was in an area of the city that was considered ‘up and coming’ which meant over three quarters of the complex were still up for sale. Cassian had been one of the first buyers and snagged the penthouse at a decent introductory rate.

Nesta’s eyes managed to sharpen into focus when they alighted on the black polished and exceptionally shiny tiles lining the ceiling, which, for all intents and purposes, acted like a mirror.

The tableau playing out did absolutely nothing to quell her thundering heartbeat.

Earlier Nesta’s hair had been preened into a slick French knot, teased into place by her hairstylist who implied Nesta had big plans for the evening. Nesta had dismissed those remarks with a wave of her hand and a scowl that could curdle milk.

Now, hours later, all was in disarray. Gold-brown strands fell onto her shoulders loosened by two firm hands that had buried themselves in her hair at the first available opportunity.

One of those shoulders was bare, the strap of her dress slid down when Cassian had made a beeline for the curve that contained the most freckles. His favourite shoulder, he’d once told her. She’d rolled her eyes at him on hearing that but made a point of wearing one-stap tops at family summer barbecues where he couldn’t reach for her.

At this vantage point Nesta was able to catch glimpses of herself from their mirror-twins but mostly what she saw was him.

Cassian’s hair was still in its low bun, which, unlike Nesta’s was messy by design. The expanse of his back covered her, his snow-white shirt stretched across solid back muscles. His jacket was discarded on the floor along with her bag and one of her shoes.

She’d managed to tug his shirt loose before he’d pinned her, the bottom of it now crumpled and ridden up at the back and in the shimmering, slightly distorted surface of the black tiles she saw his smooth, deep olive skin.

Her fingers twitched. She couldn’t wait to get into his apartment, to grab at the buttons and pull the fabric from him. Nesta had ruined, two, maybe three shirts of his now, not that he cared. With any luck she’d have him naked halfway across the lower floor of his open planned mezzanine. Maybe this time they’d make it up the stairs to his bed. Maybe they wouldn’t.

Cassian must have felt her fingers twitch because he shifted his hands upwards, from her wrists across her palms, to entwine his own between hers. They clung, entangled with each other, their knuckles surely turning bone white with the grip.

It wasn’t enough that she wanted to see his skin, she needed to feel it, smooth and warm underneath her fingertips. She envisaged her fingertips rounding over the muscles of his chest and abdomen and then drifting her palm over hard muscle to harder muscle still.

Every time they did this was like Nesta was receiving a present from the universe and it was a sobering thought that ultimately, they would have to decide the gift tree needed to stop gifting.

“Cassian,” she groaned and he lifted his head.

It always seemed to Nesta that she was more undone than him in these situations. Her clothes and hair were always mussed, her skin flushing red and her breath huffing from her mouth in harsh pants. Cassian always looked like he’d run a marathon without breaking a sweat.

There was lust in the way she’d said his name, of course there was. A man this decadent couldn’t hold his body against hers like this, couldn’t flex his hardness against her pelvis like this, for Nesta not to sound like she was about to unravel into a spool of thread.

But something else had crept in, something that sounded disturbingly like longing, like she wanted their ribs pressed as close as they could get so their hearts almost touched.

His eyes, half-lidded and hazy were staring into hers. Desire lived in them when he looked at her, but she also knew how he counted the freckles on her nose while he thought she was asleep and how he played with her hair when she dozed. Now his desire had a permanent room-mate who’d crept in uninvited.

These were things that would go unsaid. They hated each other, of course. They even had friends who encouraged the level of vitriol they could spew.

Cassian slipped back into arrogance as easy as he could breathe.

“That’s right, Nes,” he murmured, “say my name.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. If she could move her legs, she’d be tempted to give him a kick. “Bastard.”

The smile never left his face. “Oh, and don’t you know it.”

He kissed her again, shifting his pelvis away only to position one strong muscled thigh between her legs instead. She moaned against his mouth, feeling the determined throb of his erection through the fabric of his pants against her thigh. She ground down onto his leg, her hips rocking as she tried to quell her building ache.

Cassian moved both her wrists into one of his hands, freeing the other. His grip was looser now with just one fist holding her and if Nesta wanted, she could pull both her hands down and out with ease. She didn’t of course, despite her earlier protests. This game had well established rules.

Cassian’s free right hand slipped down to her bare knee, hooking behind it to draw it upwards towards his hip. They’d played this part of the game before too, Nesta instantly wrapping her leg around his waist, her dress indecently bunched around her hips.

There were many things to be thankful for in this world. The fact that Cassian’s apartment complex was semi-deserted. The fact that his frame shielded hers from any view if the elevator happened to stop and the fact that Cassian knew where the button was to turn off the security camera.

They’d learnt their lesson from experience.

Stern words had been directed to them both from the old security guard. “Please,” he’d pleaded, “no more sex in the elevator. I’m over 70, my heart isn’t so good. Make love to your girlfriend in your apartment.”

Nesta had been extremely quick to point out she wasn’t Cassian’s girlfriend which just made the old man raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

Perhaps Nesta was the only woman that Cassian invited over, perhaps she’d brought over an overnight bag once or twice and perhaps they’d hooked up after the cinema and a couple of dinners and even after a Sunday farmer’s market but it didn’t mean a thing.

“Ah,” Cassian sighed, pulling his mouth away from hers. “I know this pair – the red silk?”

His fingers trailed up her bare thigh and further until he reached the edge of her panties. The man had an unusual gift for accurately guessing her underwear.

The dress she’d chosen to wear out was a new one; sleeveless black lace with thick cut straps scooping into a scalloped neckline. Demure and elegant. Hints of cleavage and slight bare shoulders only.

The lower half was significantly shorter than what she would normally wear but pairing them with her highest heels had been worth it to see Cassian’s face when she entered the restaurant, his eyes skimming up her naked legs with an expression like he wanted to devour her.

This underwear was a particular favourite of his so she thought that tonight they should make an appearance.

His fingers, a maddeningly delicate touch, skimmed across the front of the fabric, pressing firmly with his thumb in just the right place for the briefest of seconds before pulling away.

Nesta’s body jolted and his eyes shone.

“Prick.”

“Hmmm pretty sure that’s Feyre’s pet name for Rhys.”

Well there was a mood killer.

“Ugh please,” she said, “please don’t mention my baby sister and that asshole while your hand is up my dress. I already spend enough money on therapy as it is.”

Cassian laughed, a sound that was rich and warm and thrummed through her. When Cassian laughed, he laughed with his whole body. “Oh, not finding Feyre and Rhys’ terms of endearment a turn on?”

She scrunched her nose.

“Well, that’s cute.”

“Shut. Up.”

Cassian grinned and kissed her again.

At first, when all this began, they didn’t talk about real life; Cassian’s job, Nesta’s job, weekend plans, friends or family. It was strictly skin on skin contact only. Those were the rules.

As time trickled past like sand in an hourglass, the rules warped until a significant portion had changed completely.

They ended up asking how the other was.

At first it was small talk, trying to be polite as they walked through shared the lobby of Cassian or Nesta’s apartment buildings but then Nesta had a bad day and Cassian seemed genuine in his question.

She told him about a potential client who no longer wanted her as their literary agent and how that rejection had stung. She’d believed in that book she told him, it was about sisters and redemption, and she explained how she’d cried when she first read the manuscript.

After that point they talked about their work. Nesta would glance at the architect plans Cassian had scattered about his drafting table and asked questions about how his projects were progressing and check her emails while he cooked dinner. There were times they sat opposite each other, Cassian while he drafted and Nesta while she read.

That was the other thing. There were dinners. Lunches. Weekend plans involving brunches and early morning Saturday jog’s around the park.

The one thing that did seem to be beyond their new rules was discussing friends and family.

Cassian and Nesta rarely spoke about their mutual acquaintances, often refusing to acknowledge they even had any. It was strange for Cassian to bring Rhys into conversation but he was obviously on Cassian’s mind from the phone call earlier.

They were done with their starters and waiting for the main’s when Rhys rang, Cassian answering because if he hadn’t, ‘shit would look suspicious.’

Nesta could hear the conversation from both parties even as Cassian twisted in his chair, phone pressed to his ear hunched away as much as possible to try and limit the sound.

It was confirmation from Rhys that him, Cassian and Azriel were still on for their tomorrow plans; a morning of manly activities followed by ‘lunch with the ladies’ to celebrate Cassian’s thirtieth birthday as Cassian had told them he wasn’t able to celebrate tonight, on his actual birthday.

Of course, Nesta hadn’t been invited to the group festivities. As far as all were concerned, Cassian and Nesta loathed each other and so Nesta let it slide. Cassian had essentially fobbed off the ones he loved the most with a work-based lie to have dinner with her. She thought it was a poor and unexpected exchange on his part.

Still, she had promised him a lovely birthday treat to make up for it.

Nesta gently pulled back from his kiss and watched Cassian pout.

“Now, who’s looking cute.”

“It’s my birthday. I want kisses.”

She looked up at him as coyly as she could, flexing her hips forward into his, gasping as the action moved his fingers across the front of her underwear. “Well as you’re now such a big boy perhaps tonight we can do that thing you’ve always wanted to do. It being a special occasion and all.”

Cassian’s pout dissipated and his eyes grew five shades darker.

“You mean...”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Nesta. What the hell floor are we on? Why aren’t we top floor yet, c’mon!”

Nesta laughed. They were in the world’s slowest elevator which wouldn’t be an issue but they definitely wouldn’t be doing the thing in here.

The birthday gods or whoever Cassian just offered a sacrifice to in his mind were in an obliging mood as the ‘ding’ told Nesta they’d finally reached Cassian’s floor.

Somehow, with super human speed, he’d removed his hands from her body, scooped up the jacket, bag and shoe from the floor and turned to her, hoisting her up so she clung to him like a bear climbing a tree.

Nesta laughed again combined with a shriek of surprise, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands buried in his hair. With a fumbling grace, his face pushed between her breasts, one hand full of their belongings and the other on her ass, Cassian moved them from the elevator into the hallway.

Her back thumped against the wall by his front door as Cassian dug around for his keys. Nesta tangled her hands further into his hair, making his bun as messy as hers.

“You know,” she said, “you should really consider getting a mirror installed above your bed. I think it would add a certain post-modern aesthetic.”

He momentarily paused his search to look up at her, his eyes hazy. “Yeah, you think?” he rasped. “If you want, sweetheart.”

“Not for me,” she replied with an air of indifference, moving her fingers to skim along the muscles corded in his neck. “Some woman you try and pick up might go for it.”

Cassian gave her a smirk and kissed the skin of her exposed cleavage before getting back to find his keys.

“Hurry,” she pleaded to hear Cassian mumble back, trying.

The click of the lock turning was the best sound she’d ever heard and they were barely through the threshold and into his darkened apartment before everything in Cassian’s hands, aside her, fell to a clatter on his solid floorboards.

Cassian simultaneously slammed the door and her back against the wall, his mouth stretching up to claim hers while she grabbed the back of his shirt, tugging it higher. She needed to get to his skin, needed to peel off his layers and throw off hers. If they made it to the bed for the first round of this evening it would be nothing short of a miracle.

It was only seconds before the apartment flooded with light where it had been pitch black before. The realisation that neither of them had turned on the lights came a second too late.

There was a chorus of loud and happy voices to accompany the lights.

“SURPRISE!”

It petered out to stunned silence and gasps. Cassian pulled back from Nesta his eyes filling with horror. Nesta didn’t want to look, but she was facing them, she couldn’t not.

Balloons and streamers dotted the apartment, a huge banner stretched overhead to say ‘happy birthday,’ tables full of food and alcohol primed and ready to go. There they were in front, the collective loved ones they didn’t talk about with a few extra of Cassian’s friends thrown in for good measure.

They just stared, eyes wide and mouths open. Silence.

There was a throaty chuckle followed by Amren’s voice. “Surprise? Well, I’d say it is.”

[danishmiilk]

dedication - na jaemin

genre || crack, fluff

pairing || na jaemin x reader; mentioned one-sided markhyuck

fic type || drabble; short fic?

word count || 1.4k

au || hogwarts!au, best friends to lovers!au

summary || na jaemin dedicated his quidditch win to you for no obvious reason. at least, not until he asks you “do you trust me?” and well, do you?

note || when did writing 1.4k become a normal thing for me? i remember the early days of this blog *sob* 1k was so hard to churn out istg- but anyway its not even a fic it’s a drabble just imagine!! oh and im super sorry for the very very rushed plot and everything that doesn’t make sense i’m high. this was supposed to be a timestamp but it spiralled out of hand so ok

“aaaaand what’s that? slytherin seeker na jaemin’s pulling his firebolt down into a nosedive - could he have seen the snitch?” the boy beside you hollered into the megaphone. you slammed your gloveless hands onto the cold metal railing and leaned out of your seat to look at one of your best friends barrelling toward the ground like he was suicidal. you trusted him and knew he was a good enough flier not to crash, of course, but it still worried you to see seeker!jaemin in a vertical dive down to the ground. “ugh, no, he hasn’t gotten it. HEY, NA JAEMIN, YOU SUCK!” professor mcgonagall turned and shouted in hyuck’s ear, “LEE DONGHYUCK, YOU BEHAVE, OR I’LL GET MISS L/N TO REPLACE YOU!” “sorry, professor, just some kindhearted encouragement, you know, but sure! y/n can replace me!” your best friend grinned impishly and held the megaphone out to you, offering you the chance to commentate. you shook your head firmly. the one and only reason you were sitting in the commentator’s box with hyuck was because it could only fit two people and professor mcgonagall wasn’t about to sit there and control the scoreboard next to her least favourite student of all time. it could also be partly to prevent hyuck from cheating, you supposed, though you had no idea how anyone expected you to be the one stopping him. if anything, you’d have come up with the idea. 

donghyuck had resumed commentating at the side, making snide comments every now and then. it was thirty minutes into the slytherin versus gryffindor game, and it showed no signs of stopping yet. the seekers were still circling above the pitch, gryffindor’s seeker zhong chenle (another one of your friends) trying his best to climb onto jaemin’s broom. you were pretty sure that was dangerous and against the rules, but whatever. “and slytherin chaser kim doyoung passes the quaffle to, well, another gryffindor, i mean slytherin chaser- what was his name? nokomota yuto? right, nakamoto yuta, sorry hyung- and yuta SHOOTS!” 

your head snapped back toward the game, squinting at the gryffindor goalpost. “oh, he misses, wait no he doesn’t miss! keeper mark lee saved it, excellent save there mork! you know, mark is such an awesome person, if only he’d go out with me, i’ve been pining after him for the past three years but he still won’t say yes. ah well, he’s in denial, one day he’ll realise how much he loves m-” “HYUCK,” you screamed, shaking his arm madly, “LOOK AT JAEMIN. STOP GIVING US DETAILS OF YOUR LOVE LIFE AND FOCUS ON THE GAME.” professor mcgonagall had given up on him long ago, but you were, of course, compelled to at least get him to stop waxing lyrical about mark lee.

“huh? oh yeah- uhm- slytherin must win! ah yes jaemin’s diving again but honestly who cares he’s coming up without the snitch again, stop giving me false hope na jaemin. yes, anyway, what was i saying? right, the tea. so siStErS if you would look in the corner there gryffindor beater lee taeyong’s… beating the bludgers away from slytherin chaser kim doyoung? what is this i see, people! i am scandalized! doyoung, i see you blushing! yes, i can see you blushing because i charmed my glasses! you are fraternizing with the enemy! have babies later! play the game nOOOOOOOW! oh but he’s the one giving you protection. okay. EVERYBODY LET’S CHEER ON THEIR BLOSSOMING LOVE IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER! SAY WOOOOOOOOO.” screams from the crowd. the hufflepuffs and ravenclaws had all come to watch the quidditch match - something only half of them would’ve turned up for if not for the commentary. which brings you to another point. it’s clear to everyone, you’d think, that lee donghyuck is the person most unsuited to be the commentator, like, ever. he doesn’t focus on the quidditch match at all, instead choosing to provide a detailed oral report on the latest gossip around campus. professor mcgonagall had tried to take him off the role before, of course, but she had no choice but to put him back on after 90% of the school signed a petition for “best commentator lee donghyuck” to return to the pitch. hyuck’s the dispatch of hogwarts, and he’s annoying, but he’s also funny, friendly, and sure as hell caught up on the latest tea. what’s not to like?

“right, so then i walked in to the girls’ bathroom, on accident i swear i’m not a pervert, and i saw irene and seulgi kissing in the corner and i was like what?? did not expect that. but i’d always kinda expected it because i can see couples in the future you know you can call me up anytime to predict your chances with your crush slight self promo but my rates are cheap af. where are seulrene? oh, there? i see your friends waving, congratulations guys, and oh wait jaemin has the snitch i think he’s holding something in his hand. oh. okay. 450-380 to slytherin, and slytherin win! tune in next quidditch match for another episode of Haechan’s Finest Tea Brewery!”

jaemin flew toward the commentator’s box, gesturing wildly with his hands. you stared at him, not comprehending, while hyuck chose to shout “HUH?? HUH??” repeatedly into the megaphone. jaemin rolled his eyes in annoyance that you could feel from a long distance away, pointed his wand at his throat and murmured sonorous. 

“i’d like to dedicate this win to y/n l/n over here. speaking of which, she’s my motivation to win for every match,” jaemin went on with a shy smile. you felt your eyes widen and your earlier excitement for slytherin winning slipping off your face. what was he talking about? “i understand if you see me as just a friend, but i still think i’ve got to show the whole school i love you.” jaemin flew closer to the box, hovering at the side of it. “do you want to be my girlfriend? do you trust me? if the answer is yes, mount this broom with me.”

hyuck had apparently also been startled into silence, not having made any snarky remarks about the scene very obviously plagiarised from aladdin. you gasped softly, getting up to move closer to the railing, your body deciding for you instead of your mind. jaemin’s smile widened, “do you trust me?”

did you love na jaemin? up until ten minutes ago, you were sure you didn’t. he hadn’t even been a candidate for being your love interest romantically. you were taken aback by the confession, but you weren’t upset by it either. you felt slightly fuzzy inside, like you were a stuffed teddy bear, and even on a winter day as cold as it was, you felt warmth spread throughout your entire body. what did hyuck always say about love? he said that love means you’d do the best you could to make them happy. that love’s about giving, not about receiving. that you’d always put them before yourself, and you’d pay extra attention to them, always. and that you’d be ready to carry them off on a bed of roses and bear their children, but then again, you supposed that was just one of hyuck’s strange fantasies about mark. reflecting on all the years you’d been friends, you’d always been staring at jaemin to see if he laughed at a joke before you did too. you rushed to the hospital wing at 3am, not caring about the three months’ worth of detention you could potentially (and later did) get, only wanting to check on him and see that his injured leg was alright. you’d done everything reasonable (like let him copy your homework) and everything unreasonable (like stealing telescopes from the astronomy tower with hyuck to feed the giant squid) just to see a smile on his face. and that smile could warm the harshest winters. 

maybe you were in love with na jaemin.

you walked up closer, and put your hand into his waiting one. the school, who’d been waiting with bated breath, exploded into cheers, but you heard none of it. there was only you and him. and the 30km drop to the ground.

jaemin’s grin looked like it was about to split his face into half. he pressed your cold hand to his lips, pretending to be a gentleman. pulling you onto his broom in front of him, he put his arms on both sides of you. un-amplifying his voice, he leaned forward, pressing himself into your back. “are you ready?” you nodded, fingers clutching tight onto the wood.

“i can show you the world.”

©danishmiilk, 2020.

[deeranger]

Fic Writer Questions!

@oddsocksandstuff tagged me in this, thank you so much, sweetie!  ❤️

 1) How many works do you have on AO3? I’ve got 40 so far (of which 25 are SPN fics). There’s more to come! 

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 486,667, apparently. That tells me each of my fics has an average wordcount of 12,166.675… Seems about right. I was never any good at keeping things short.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Uhh… On AO3 I’ve written for Supernatural, Supernatural RPF, X-men (Cherik) and McFassy (James McAvoy/Michael Fassbender). But I’ve written a lot when I was younger that has never made it online, including NCIS, Pirates of the Caribbean, and lots of weird one-shorts starring everyone from Michael J. Fox to Kevin Sorbo from “Hercules: The Legendary Journeys”. 🤨  

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos? “A Lesson to be Taught” – an SPN Wincest pwp fic where a dominant Dean fucks (and spanks) Sam and they discover that Dean apparently has a daddy!kink. Comes with a photo manipulation too! There be dick.    

“Taking Game” – a semi-dark medieval Cherik (Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr from X-men) AU. Basically, Charles is a poacher hunting on king Erik’s land to his great dismay. And so, he’s captured and gets the choice between losing his life or serving the king for a bit… Dubcon and smut ensues.   “Only Like This” – a little SPN Wincest dub-con fic about hopelessly pining Dean doping Sam just so he can touch and kiss his oblivious little brother. It’s okay. Sam won’t remember when he comes to.   “It’s Only Carnal” – A dark SPN Wincest noncon fic where soulless!Sam needs to blow off some steam. And when it comes to carnal activities his brother isn’t exactly a novice – so why not use Dean’s body to make them both feel good?   “Demonized” – a long and dark af SPN noncon fic written in collaboration with the awesome @palishere. Sam is captured by some nasty demons who use him to lure in his brother. At first it seems the demonic scumbags are just really perverted and have a weakness for sexual torture, but they turn out to have ulterior motives…  

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes, always. I think it can be a bit demotivating for a reader to leave a comment and get zero response – and so, they might not bother to comment on the next fic. At least, that’s how I feel personally. And besides, I really want to let readers know that I appreciate them taking the time and effort to actually tell me what they think.  

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Oufff… Seriously? How can I possibly pick just one when 99.8 percent of my fics are not only dark af but have gut-wrenching ambiguous endings as well? I, err… I’m gonna have to think really hard about this one, hold on… *Insert buzzing cicada sound*… Uhh… Well, I guess it might be… “Play or Pay” – a dark female!reader-insert Wincest fic where demon!Dean has you and Sam trapped somewhere underground. Sam ends up being on the receiving end of the demon’s cruelty when he tries to save you. Using Dean’s body the demon ends up raping Sam while the reader tries to escape to get help... There’s a little twist in the end. Loads of dead dove here, including death (not Dean or Sam).     “The Orange Hour” – where undercover inmate!Dean has to rape CO!Sam in order to save both of their lives and get them out of the jail in one piece. It doesn’t go completely as planned. (Comes with an nsfw photo manipulation).  “Demonized” – loads of bottom!Sam torture, full of hurt and absolutely no comfort... It’s just… I dunno, I think I and @palishere had a collective meltdown in the noncon and angst department. Sorrynotsorry.      

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, I’ve never in my life written a crossover. Usually, I’m too laser-focused on 1 obsession at a time. I can’t multitask, okay?   

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, the fandom purity police has visited me on AO3. The usual self-proclaimed know-it-alls vomiting their bullshit all over the comment section about how “problematic” noncon is and how “sick” I must be. I thought about moderating comments for a while, actually – but I just deleted their follow-up comments until they left me alone. 😤

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yes!! Gimme! Usually, I write noncon smut or just good ol’ pwps that feature some sort of dominance. That’s it. That’s my jam. In general, the only smut I don’t write is the cute, fluffy, feel-good, cuddly stuff… My smut’s usually pretty rough and/or some sort of dub/noncon.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. Someone stole “It’s Only Carnal” and posted it as her own on some Portuguese fanfiction site. She even replied to comments, answered questions and talked about how much she loved writing it, etc… Luckily a sweet mutual on Tumblr let me know about it and I reported her for plagiarism. The stolen fic was taken down shortly after and the account deleted. Goddamn thief. 😡  

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes. Honestly, I can’t remember which fic(s). But people have contacted me on AO3 and asked for permission to translate my stuff into Chinese. I have - of course - happily allowed them to. It’s such an awesome compliment to get, I think!  

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, 2. “Demonized” and the fluffy Ficfacers prompt fic “The Masks We Wear” starring Sam and Dean taking their pranks a step too far. Basically, the brothers get angry with each other and they need to talk it out… No smut in this one, can you believe it?!! But that was kinda the prompt we received. The prompt was literally: “Sam and fluff”. Anyways, both fics are co-written with the lovely @palishere. You can find her AO3 here. 😊

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? Wincest!!! Definitely. Gimme all the brotherfucking, please. No contest. And coming in on second place I guess there’s Samifer – never paired consensually, though. I just love Lucifer messing with Sam’s head and torturing him in all kinds of cruel ways.    

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Oh, that’s a mean question… I have a noncon WIP where Sam and Dean are in prison. I wrote a whole story outline, gathered my own little dictionary of prison slang, etc… But I never made it past page 10 or something. Sam was supposed to get jumped by a gang of inmates and then Dean was supposed to helplessly watch from the sideline, offering to trade places if they’d just leave his little brother alone… And after that it’s all about a mix of healing and vengeance… But the story has been lying on the shelf for more than a year and I doubt I’ll ever continue it. Oh, wait! I almost forgot – I have a long Cherik WIP sequel to “To Have and to Hold”! Just checked, its wordcount is 18,729! Holy crap…. What a waste, huh? But I honestly don’t think I’ll ever finish it, because I’m not into Cherik anymore. That ship has kinda sunk for me…. So, now I’m hyperfixating on Supernatural, yeah?     

16) What are your writing strengths? Description, I think. I just love details and setting the mood. I like to think I’m pretty good at writing in English too even though it isn’t my native language… I wish to be better and expand my vocabulary but I’m doing okay nonetheless.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? Description, I think. Yes, you read correctly. I often describe things TOO much. Sometimes to the extent where the pacing gets so slowed down that I feel like the scene loses its ‘feel’. I don’t know if it’s just in my head, but that’s my major concern about my writing. That and my signature ambiguous endings, lol.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Love it. It can be difficult to pull off, but if you get it right it can be magical. Just don’t overdo it and make sure that the reader can follow. I don’t think I have any fics online where I do it, but I’m not a complete stranger to it either.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for? Ack, my poor brain trying to go back to when I was friggin’ 13… You know how many years ago that was?! 25!!! Okay!? *Huffs*…. Anyway, I THINK it might’ve been Keanu Reeves’ character in “Johnny Mnemonic”. Or maybe David James Elliott’s character as Harmon Rabb in the early seasons of “JAG”. I dunno. Either way this question makes me feel really old and I don’t appreciate it. Don’t @ me. 😅   

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? That’s probably a tie between “The Orange Hour” and “It’s Only Carnal”. They’ve both got nice pacing and that’s my biggest challenge, I think. Also, I love the whole Morse code thing in “The Orange Hour”. I don’t even know what happened or how I came up with it, but hey, I can surprise myself if I want to, I guess! And of course there’s the smutty noncon and all of the hurt… So, those two fics are my personal faves. 😏  

I’ll tag @jackandthesoulmates, @pinkoptics, @palishere, @wrenseroticlibrary, @decadent-prince, @negans-lucille-tblr, @juinae and @impala-dreamer and everyone else who feels like doing it! Feel free to ignore, of course. 

[writingsbychlo]

after hours | mitch rapp

word count; 10,853

summary; at a bachelorette party, you get a little more than just a striptease.

notes; a little while ago, @samstaylor​ was daydreaming in the groupchat about mitch as a stripper, and of course, I couldn’t miss the chance to write it.

warnings; smut, striptease, that's about it.

The man standing at your hotel room door was without a doubt one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.

Messy hair atop his head, long enough to run his fingers through, just long enough to have that kind of sexy bedhead look that never failed to make you weak, dark tresses you wanted to tangle your fingers into. His eyes were fixed on you, skin pale despite the sun-centred place you both lived in, and skin marred with perfect imperfections, moles and freckles decorating his skin. With whiskey coloured eyes that seemed to practically sparkle as he watched you, and plump pink lips that looked kiss-bitten and swollen already, the man was practically dripping sex, and you were certain your eyes were wide, jaw hanging open as you looked at him, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

A dark smirk was sat on his lips as he stared down at you, darkened eyes dragging slowly along your body, and settling on the silk sash that was sitting over your torso. “Maid of honour, huh? That’s a shame, I was kinda’ hoping it was you that I’d get to strip for tonight.”

“I’d still let you.”

“Oh, you would, huh?” He licked over his lips, dragging his lower lip between his teeth, his smirk only widening. “There’s always after hours for what we want, isn’t there? So, are you going to let me in? I’d really like to start taking my clothes off for you.”

“You’re one hell of a flirt..” Your words trailed off, and he let out a breathy laugh, straightening up from where he was leaning on the doorframe and offering his hand out to you.

“Mitch.”

“(Y/N).”

Your hand slipped into his, and he brought your fingers up to his lips, one eye dropping in a lazy wink as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lifting your hand up to sit on his shoulder as he stepped in a little closer to you, humming under his breath as though considering the situation. “Pretty name, pretty girl. It’s a good night, tonight.”

“You keep flirting with me and I might have to drag you away for a private show, Mitch. I don’t think my best friend would be very impressed if she didn’t get her dance.” Your own hand came up to rest on his chest, the space between the two of you practically non-existent, and he looked between your hand on his body and your eyes, his gaze only seeming to somehow darken further. “I promised her a hot stripper, and so far, I’m delivering. I’d hate to crash the bachelorette party by dragging away the main event.”

“I’d be happy to let you drag me away, but I guess you’re right.” His breath was washing over your face as he spoke, your sights flicking between his own and his lips, before you were swallowing thickly and pulling away. It was like a magnet, the pull you had to this man was like something you’d never experience before, and yet you’d known him for mere minutes. With what little shred of self-control you had left, you scrunched up the hand in his shirt, offering him a final smirk as you dragged him into the hotel room, smoothing your hand down his chest to remove the wrinkles, and taking a step back from him as the pair of you rounded the corner and the noises o the party going on within came back into your hearing range.

The second the other girls’ eyes were laid onto him, the loud chatter and laughter had turned into hollers and whistles, Mitch’s ego only seeming to be fuelled by it, his chest puffing up and smirk becoming a wide toothy grin as he stepped into the room, glancing around for the speaker that the phone playing music was hooked up to, patting at his pocket absentmindedly for his own phone.

“Now which of you gorgeous ladies is the one getting married tomorrow?”

He had a way with women, you could tell from the way they were all already practically swooning, including your best friend, despite the ring on her finger and the vows she had memorised for less than 24 hours from now, her eyes were dragging along him shamelessly, head to toe, drinking in every delicious detail of him in the same way you had. “That would be me.”

“I shoulda’ guessed, you are just beautiful. I’m not surprised someone put a ring on you, I would have too.” He took her hand in his, smoothing his thumb over her fingers and rubbing over the pretty gem on the band sat on her finger, and she let out a giggle, a noise you’d never heard her make before but her cheeks were flushed and eyes wide as she looked up at him, and he placed her hand back down in her lap with a smirk for only her to enjoy. “I like to do these a little differently. I don’t have a set routine or song list. It changes with each client. I like to meet every girls needs.”

“Oh, fuck.”

A round of laughter went up across the room as the curse spilled from her mouth before she could stop it, and you plucked your phone up from the speaker, the soft music you’d been playing beforehand was cut short, and Mitch seemed to be the only one who noticed, his eyes flicking to yours momentarily, a small nod of thanks from him, before he was redirecting his attention back to the bride to be. “That okay with you?”

“So okay.”

“Great.” He fished into his pocket for his phone, handing it over to you to hook up to speaker, before stripping the lightweight black jacket he wore down his arms, ducking his head at the ay the girls all applauded and encouraged him, even as he simply removed the garment to hang over the back of the chair. “Do you have any song preference, or do you just want me to pick?”

“Y-Your choice.” Her eyes were no longer on his, instead, where you were sure all the girls’ gazes were, much like your own, taking in the way the light t-shirt was all but stretched across his chest, perky nipples pressing to thin fabric, sleeves stretching around his biceps and looking like he might rip straight through the seams as his arms flexed with simple movements, and you managed to drag your gaze away from his body to finishing fixing up his phone on the speaker cord.

“I have some good songs to dance to, I think you’ll like them.” He was standing back to his full height, rubbing his hands together and glancing around all of the ladies with a coy look, knowing exactly the effect he was having on them all. “Now, what about touching? Do you like to touch?”

He picked up her hand, placing her palm flat on his stomach, her fingers dragging over the taut and solid muscle you just knew lay beneath his shirt, her breath audibly hitching as she did, before she was nodding, face now bright red as she looked up at him. “I like to touch.”

“You want me to show you where you can touch?” She nodded, licking over her lips and closing her mouth quickly, offering up her other hand to him as he held his own ou for it, long and nimble fingers wrapping around her wrist. The breath of the other women in the room all seemed to be collectively held, a dreamy sigh let out as he pulled your best friend to her feet, her legs shaky underneath her as he placed both of her hands on his shoulders, pausing for only a second as her fingers squeezed lightly.

He was soon dragging on along his arm, all the way to his wrist, and the other along his chest, down to the middle of his stomach, around about where you expected his navel to be through his shirt, before he was pulling her in close, an embarrassingly needy sound leaving her as his chest pressed up to hers, and he pushed her arms around behind him. Her hands roamed over his back, nails scratching lightly as she all but trembled under his gaze, his eyes fixed on her and only her, the loose baby hairs that had come free from her up-do with the chaos of the night were moving softly with each breath he let out to wash over her skin.

“Nowhere else, okay? You gotta’ promise me before we start, babe.”

The pet name sounded on from his tongue, like he was used to saying it, but it didn’t quite suit him, though you assumed that would be about right, just flirty rough to get paid but not the way he would treat an actual girlfriend, and that was more than enough for you. The lady of the hour nodded, sinking back into her seat as he beamed, before clapping his hands and finally looking back up over the others gathered in the room, all of whom seemed to preen under his gaze.

“Let’s get some music going, shall we? Let me choose some songs, you ladies can get yourselves some fresh drinks, and then we can have some real fun.” He didn’t wait for a response, the clinks of champagne bottles and glasses being more than enough to clue him in that they’d taken his suggestion, and he was making his way back over to you, stare holding with your own, the cock-sure way that he carried himself made you feel like you were being hunted, a predator closing in on its prey, and you were more than happy to play that game with him.

He pressed you in against the counter, his body never actually touching you but you could feel the heat rolling off of him as he stood close, taking his phone from your hand and scrolling through his apps, bringing up his music as he seemed to consider his options, smirk only widening each time you let out a breath of gasped a little when he shifted fractionally closer.

“Why don’t you check over these songs for me, kitten? Tell me if you think they match your mood for the night.”

Kitten.

Now that was a pet name that sounded like pure honey and sugar and everything sweet as it rolled off of his tongue with ease, sinful thoughts flashing through your mind as you gazed up at him, before nodding happily and taking the device back, turning the screen to face you as you scrolled through the small collection of tunes that he’d chosen.

“I think that your choice in music is fuckin’ awesome.” Your words were mumbled under your breath, barely meant to be spoken out loud, but he let out a happy little sound at your praise, and you placed the phone down on the counter, twisting to face him and giving him the sweetest look you could, clearly seeming to have its effect because his cocky look faltered for a second, causing him to swallow thickly and clear his throat, his eyes dipping away from your own before he could bring them back up.

“I’m glad you approve.”

Even his voice was deep, practically dripping arousal, the man was like sex on legs, and you were just dying to know what was under his clothes, to watch him strip down and move. He wasn’t overly muscled, but his veiny arms, dark hair and cheeky smirk were more than enough to tip any girl over the edge, even in addition to the taut and lean body with clear upkeep and maintenance.

He was just fit enough without it being excessive, and he seemed or know exactly how attractive he was, because he was never once shy or awkward of himself, never cowering or backing away with his insecurities. He was proud on his skin, happy with his body, and you just loved the self-confidence he wore like a crown.

“If it were me, I’d want something a little slower. More sensual, the sort of thing you can dance to as well as strip to, but the girls will love these songs, I promise you that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Deep and raspy, his words were all but purred out, and you didn’t get a chance to reply before a set of manicured nails and a glass of bubbling champagne were being waved in front of your face, snapping your attention away from the man so that you could look down to the drink and take it from her and offering your thanks. She was giving you a pointed stare, clearly wanting to move on with the night, and you could understand that, so you slipped away from Mitch with one final gaze, full of heat and intensity, before you were taking your seat and grinning when one of the bridesmaids adjusted the lights a little lower for you all.

Once the music started up, you could physically feel the atmosphere in the room changing. What had once been heavy anticipation had become crackling electricity, his body beginning to sway a little as he got himself ready for his dance, letting the rhythm flow over him.

In only the blink of an eye, his nervous beginnings had transformed into fluid movements that were well-rehearsed. There wasn’t a single jagger or jerk, his body rolling and twisting without fault, and you took a deep and steadying breath, already feeling your heart beginning to race, a desperate bid to calm yourself.

That was blown out of the window, however, when he reached a hand up behind his head, his arms stretching and biceps seeming like they were all but birthing out of the dark t-shirt that was tight around his upper arms. Peeling it up, he moved deliberately slowly, rocking his hips back and forth as he inches the thin material higher and higher, bit by bit revealing peeks of toned muscle and taut pale flesh that was marred with beauty marks in the form of constellations of moles.

Tossing it out towards the girls, a squeal of excitement rose up in a wave across the room around you, and the material hung over the back of a chair, long forgotten as the real entertainment began.

It was rolls of hips, his body moving in fluid ways that you couldn't tear your eyes off of, and you weren’t sure where to look at any given moment. His muscles flexed and rolled under his skin, the wicked smirk on his lips never left, eyes dark and fixed on your own as your mouth hung open. You knew how you must look, you felt like you were on the verge of drooling just from looking at him, watching the sensual way he could roll his body and twist his hips, every movement he made matching the tempo of the music, hard-hitting notes making him jerk his hips forwards in time with the music, thrusting up into the air in a way that had your mind blanking with thoughts of him fucking into you in the same, his body shifting and twisting with each little action he took.

Your fingers were gripping onto the champagne glass with such force that you worried you may break it, rapt attention and hooded eyes as you watched his eye drop into a seductive wink while he was looking at you, licking over his lower lip slowly and being sure to put a little extra effort into the way his hips thrust up in the air as he watched you drink him in with rapt attention. The heat in the room seemed overwhelming, one of your hands coming up to tug at the front of your blouse, popping open a further button and pulling the light material away from your body, his lips being caught between his teeth as his eyes dropped down to scan slowly across your chest, fixing on the exposed bit of cleavage now peeking out from your top, before he was swallowing thickly and letting that same filthy smirk come back to haunt you as he looked back up to you once again.

The grey sweats he was wearing were hanging low around his hips, black boxer briefs complimenting pale skin perfectly, matching the dark hairs that trailed down low, and in some kind of retaliation, he held your eyes with a dead stare, smirking when he felt your friends hand’s land on his body, shuddering slightly as her nails raked down over solid planes of muscles, but he was licking the pad of his thumb, grinning cheekily around his own finger and dragging it down his own body, knowing that your eyeline was following the wet digit.

Hooking it into the waistband of his underwear and sweats, he pulled them down a little, just enough to flash you the dark patch of hair sitting gourd the base of his cock, cheers going up in the room around you both, but it all seemed entirely irrelevant, because it was all muffled, background noise as everything came secondary to you and him. He was all but fucking you with his eyes, every move was simply a teasing preview of what you could be having later that night should you choose to do so, and you were absolute fucking choosing to do so.

Letting the elastic snap back into place against his skin, he let out a small and quiet moan, just enough to tease the other women around you, all, before he was finally pulling his gaze away from you to face back to the others. Taking the bride-to-be’s hands in his own, he took them down his hips, all the way from his chest, her fingers dragging over his nipples and through the hair that was scattered over his chest, down to his sides, where he wrapped her fingers around the waistband of his grey sweats, giving her a cheeky nod and standing tall, dragging one hand through his hair as the song changed, silence taking over the room for only a second as you all practically held your breaths in anticipation.

In perfect timing with the first note of the next song, she leaned down, dragging his sweats all the way to his ankles, cheers going up in the room, and he cupped her face with a single hand, dragging the same thumb that had been between his lips only a minute ago along her jaw, letting her tip her head into his hand needily, and he chuckled under his breath, rolling his hips from side to side once again.

“Good girl.”

You weren’t the only that all but keened at the way he purred out the words, little sighs and whimpers taking off around the room, and you brought your glass up to your lips, downing the rest of the drink, and instead of refilling it, you simply clutched the bottle. The most genuine smile you’d seen all night raced his lips as he watched you do so, and for a second he seemed to falter, struggling to hold in a laugh as you raised the rim to your lips, taking a deep swig and holding his gaze. A single drip escaped your lips, making its way along your chin, you caught it with a single finger, making an excessive show of sucking the digit between your lips, the colour that had been staining them smeared around your finger a little as you sucked it down. He took in a sharp intake of breath, and somehow, his commitment to his dance only seemed to grow, like a competition between you both, who could flirt with the other more while everyone else was still in the room, who could drive the other a little more insane, and you were taking the challenge.

Uncrossing your legs, you parted them for just a second, fully aware of how short your skirt was, his eyes dropping down to the place you were only covered by a thin scrap of lace, his jaw dropping and a sweet moan leaving him for only a second, and he played it off like it was intentional, winking at the girls who made sounds of approval in return, and you were crossing them back closed before he had a chance to turn back to you, his eyes seeming to darken and narrow at the offering of a challenge.

With determination, he lifted your friend out of her seat, pulling her in close to him as he kicked his sweatpants away from himself, her head rolling back as he dipped his own down, never actually touching his mouth to her neck, but he twisted them around, sideways so the others could still see the way he was moving, and you could see his eyes watching you, everything you needed to know was being converted in the way he was looking at you, the way you knew he’d already decided exactly how he was going to take you, exactly how you’d sound screaming out his name and just how he was going to make it happen. He was already picturing you in nothing but the lace panties you wore, the same way you were picturing him in just his boxers, only the two of you in the room.

It was a treat for her, but a show for you.

He wanted you to see how he would hold you, how he would take care of you before taking you apart. He was giving you a visual demonstration of how everything would go down between you both, while simultaneously giving you nothing. His skin was coated in a light layer of shining sweat, his face seeming to glow under the low lights, and the flick of his lips up when he finally looked away from you was enough to confirm to you that he knew exactly how much you were longing for his attention to be back on you anytime he looked away, and how much he loved it when he finally redirected his gaze to your own, already to find you watching him needily.

Leaning forwards in your seat, he groaned out audibly as your breasts fell forward in your bra, plump and soft under his sights, and you purposefully pressed the cold neck of the bottle between them against your skin, a hungry look flashing over his face. Every place your friend touched, every place he touched her, every movement of their bodies as he directed her until she was too flustered and aroused to even stand up anymore was something you knew you would get more of, better of, later.

The music came to an end, no more songs playing as the loop had come to an end, and the time you had paid for seemed far too short, the girls all letting out dismal sounds of disappointment, and he let out a breathless laugh, brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead and taking a little bow at the hoots they all let out at the simple action. Your best friend was red-cheeked and panting, fanning herself with legs crossed suspiciously tightly, but then again, every single one of the women around you looked utterly destroyed from the show, and they’d all simply been there to watch on.

It was a sight to behold, watching them all g about fixing themselves drinks and trying their best to drag their eyes away from his lean body and sweaty skin, fanning themselves and adjusting the lights, opening windows and walking round in a bid to ease themselves the aches and desires they’d never get fulfilled.

But, you would.

His sweatpants were tugged back up his legs, shirt still hanging over the back of one of the chairs, and you scooped it up with a single finger, holding the material between your fingers and making your way over to him, his back turned to you as he undid his phone from the extension cord and tucked it into his back pocket.

“I believe this is yours.”

He spun around to face you, a megawatt grin shown to you once again as he took it from your hand, his movements particularly slow and sexy as he pulled it back on over his head, his fingers and arms brushing against your own as he lowered the material down and over his arms. “I think you affected me more than I affected them.”

His voice as slightly scratchy, and you offered the bottle you were still holding out to him, gaze transfixed on the way his lips wrapped around the rim as he took a gulp of champagne, licking over wet and pink lips once he was finished, before pressing it back into your hands with a wink. “Oh, I don’t know ‘bout that. You drove them pretty crazy.”

“And what about you?”

“I loved it.” You confirmed, his eyes lighting up a little bit at the confession, before he was dragging his fingertips along your arm carefully, being sure that he was out of the lingering sights of the others in the room as their chatter took up once again.

“Good, I’d love to do a private dance for you, sometime.” You knew what he meant, not having to struggle to read between the lines, what with the way he was looking at you and the whispered tone of his voice, the spark between you both being undeniable.

“Bachelorette party ends in an hour. I’ll be in room 703 in one hour and thirty.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I can’t wait.”

He beamed, glancing around before slipping a hand down to pinch at your ass, chuckling under his breath at the squeal you let out when you jumped in shock, before wet lips were pressing a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “Neither can I, kitten.”

As promised, an hour and a half later, three quick knocks on your hotel door signalled his arrival, and you swung the wood open, a low whistle leaving his lips as he looked over you. He looked much the same as before, his jacket swung over his shoulder as he leaned against the doorframe, a bottle of vodka in his other hand, but he was nibbling on a plush pink lip as he took every bit of you in, committing the sight to memory.

You had changed, slipping on the best silky night set you owned, a lacey camisole and a pair of shirts, perfect for the heat and perfect for tempting hot strippers you’d only met a few hours ago into fucking you like you deserved to be fucked.

“You’re wearing the sash.” Two of his fingers hooked under the light piece of cloth sitting around your torso, ‘maid of honour’ printed into the fabric and he used it to pull you a little closer to him, standing up to his full height and leaning over you.

“You seemed rather fond of it before.”

“I was wondering what you’d look like in just the sash.” He beamed, and you hooked your own fingers into his belt loops, pulling him into the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

“Why don’t you come and find out, then?”

He let out a little growl in response, a sound that shot right through you and straight to your core, igniting that heat back up within you once again. His jacket dropped to the ground and the bottle of vodka he’d been holding was discarded to sit on the unit, both of his hands taking your face in a gentle hold. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”

“So do it.”

That was all the confirmation he needed his lips descending onto yours in a passionate kiss. It was hot, and perfectly executed, the way his mouth was meshing with your own was enough to make your knees go weak and body tremble a little under his touch. Those same hands that had been on your face were now moving down your body, large palms burning through the silk covering your body as he smoothed over your ribs, you breathing hitching as he dragged them down, before he was squeezing at your hips.  

Your own hands came up to grab at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him into you until there was no space left, the heat in the room almost suffocating, as though he wasn’t kissing away the breath from your lungs with every kiss he delivered or you. Your feet were moving underneath you before you could get your brain to catch up, the edge of your bedsheets brushing the backs of your legs when you finally snapped away, pulling aqua to peer up at the man before you. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and blown with lust as he gave short pants for breath, his own gaze taking you in with much the same desperation you were taking with him.

“Been thinkin’ about you all night. All the things we could do, the ways I could have you.”

“Tell me about that.”

He grinned, pressing a long but chaste kiss to your lips, before presenting his phone to you, scrolling through it as you distracted yourself by moving your lips along his neck, licking at the skin that has the slightly salty taste of sweat lingering there, and he let out a little moan for just you to hear when your teeth grazed his skin.

Soft notes building sweet melodies filled the room as he put down the phone on the counter beside the vodka. Fingers under your chin tipped your head up so that he could catch your mouth in a simple kiss once again, and you whimpered into his mouth at the delicacy of it all.

“I put a few songs together, something like you said. Slower and sexier.”

“You built me a playlist. That’s like giving a girl a mixtape, but it isn’t ‘82.” He let out a chuckle against your lips, hands dipping underneath the edge of your shirt to brush over bare skin, sending shivers along your spine until you were once again finding yourself melting into his touch. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” You nodded humming happily when you felt him smile into the kiss, before he was taking your hands in his, wrapping them around his neck and his own around your waist, swaying the two of you gently as he danced the tips of his fingers along your spine beneath the light material clad on your body. “I wanted you in so many ways. Thought about taking you hard and fast, because I bet you’d sound so good screaming out for me as I fuck you, but then I decided, I’d rather make the most of our time. Take you apart slowly and carefully, make you mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

He let out a sigh against your mouth, the swaying between you both stopping for only a second as he let out a primal sound in the back of his throat, peeling your shirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor and smirking as he placed the banned back over your body. He smoothed it down on your body, thumbs brushing over your already pebbled nipples, and he seemed to light up at the noise you made in response, arching up into his hands. “Why do you have such an effect on me, hm? I meet tons of chicks every day, but there’s just something about you..”

Your arms wrapped back around his neck, pulling his mouth back to your own before he had even finished talking, and he moaned happily into your mouth, parting his lips before you even had to ask, his tongue dipping out to tangle with your own once again as your bodies moulded around one another, limbs tangling together as you danced slowly to the sensual music that was vibrating around the room.

“What do you want out of tonight, hm? Tell me what you need.”

“Ideally? I’d really like you to fuck me, I know it’s your job to get girls hot and bothered but you have an effect on me that no guy has ever had before.” He was happy, his chest puffing out a little in pride from your compliments, and you grinned up at him, tugging at the edges of his t-shirt and inching it up his chest. “But, I get it if you don’t want to. I’d be more than happy to just lay about and talk. And make out a bit. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He echoed, rolling his eyes fondly and lifting his arms up so that you could peel the tight material off of his body, the fabric being more like painted on as it moved across his body, muscles flexing under your gaze and your mouth growing dry, and you were a little shocked to find heat crawling up his cheeks as it fell away, and his eyes wide a she looked at you. “You’d really be happy to just lay with me and talk?”

“Yeah. Is that what you want to do?”

You took a step back from him, just a small one, but he growled out, closing in on you quickly and stepping further into your space than he had been before, your bodies colliding and tumbling back onto the bed behind you, bodies pressed together slickly and propping himself up above you. “Maybe after, but I definitely want to fuck you first.”

“Thank fuck, because I’ve been dying to know what you’ve got hidden away.” You cupped him through his sweats, hardening cock twitching in your hand as he rolled his hips down into your palm, grunting under his breath and letting his eyes flutter shut as your fingers squeezed around his length.

He pulled away, mumbling his regrets under his breath but muffing his own sounds of dismay as his lips pressed wet marks along your throat, tongue flicking out to soothe at each place he bit and sucked at, careful not to leave marks that would show up in your wedding photos tomorrow. Closing his mouth over one of your nipples, he lapped at the perky bud eagerly, your back arching up, one hand coming down to weave into his hair as you pressed up into him.

“Oh, fuck. I knew your mouth was gonna’ be my downfall tonight.”

“Yeah? Just wait until I fuck you. With my fingers or my cock.” The words left tremors along your skin, only spurring on your pleasure, and a sob of his name slipped from you while he switched to the other side, leaving your breasts wet and coated in goosebumps as a light breeze of cool air washed over your slick skin.

“Cocky much?”

“No, I just know that I have a great dick, and I know my hands drive chicks wild.” He winked at you as he made his way back up into your eyesight, settling himself between your thighs and grinding down into you, dragging his stiff erection across your covered core, the layers of clothes between you becoming your most hated enemy as you wished nothing was blocking you, wishing for skin on skin, his cock sliding into you. “Wanna’ taste you. That’s okay?”

“It’s so much more than okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Use that pretty mouth to purr for me, kitten.” You let out a broken sound at the words he mumbled into your skin, kissing down your torso and running his fingers over the silk banner still clad on your body, hanging at an odd angle as you laid down but he seemed to be appreciating it nonetheless. “Finally gon’ get to see what you look like in just this sash. Been picturing it all night.”

You lifted your hips up for him as he hooked his fingers under the edge of the silk and lace trim, pulling your shorts away on your smooth and freshly shaven legs, cursing under his breath as he found your lack of underwear. You dropped your thighs open, dragging your fingers through your sodden folds and parting them before his eyes, watching as his jaw dropped open and he all but drooled at the sight, taking a deep breath as he palmed himself through his sweats.

“Oh, fuck.” His own hands found your thighs, massaging the muscle softly as he moved his way up, supple and plush skin tensing under his fingers as he lay down, hot breath fanning over your core and making you shudder with the anticipation. “I want to take my time with you, but I don’t want you to cum tonight unless it's on my cock, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Such a good girl.” His praise made you quiver, your eyes closing and a loud moan slipping from you as he dragged his tongue along your centre, swirling the muscle around your hole and dipping into you for only a second before he was lapping at the built-up slick and moving up to nibble at your clit, and you felt boneless underneath him. You were melting into the covers, both hands in his hair and your thighs clamped around his head, mumbling your own praise for his wicked ministrations already.

It was in the way his tongue moved, teeth grazing you flesh and lips sucking in tandem, and your mind was spinning. Head pressed back into the bedding and lips parted to let out your noises of contentment, you were somehow never more relaxed and utterly rigid at the same time. Your body was stiff as you rolled your hips up into his mouth rhythmically, your clit bumping against the tip of his nose each time he - or you - shifted, needy sighs being the sweet plea that left you every time, and he only worked harder after each one to make it happen again.

He was drinking up the reactions you made, flicking his tongue against you before finally slipping it within you, your walls clenching around him and you cried out his name as he groaned against you, juices leaking from you as he did and he happily took in the tease of you as your flowed for him. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

You barely caught his words, before he was delving back into you once again, and your hips left the bed, your heels digging in further as you whined and squirmed underneath him. Thick biceps pressed to your thighs as he wrapped his arms around your legs to hold your body to him, his stubbled jaw scratching at the insides of your thighs in a delicious way that would leave behind red and raw skin in the morning, the kind of burn that would remind you the entire of the following day of the sinful activities you were partaking in tonight. “Holy fuck, Mitch.”

“That’s right, call out my name, sweetheart. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good.”

“Mitch!”

It came out as a squeal this time, two of his fingers prodding at your weeping entrance and slipping in with little hesitation, sinking until they couldn't move any further, and you let out deep and needy sound at the feeling of being filled already, even if it wasn’t enough to make you scream out yet. He wiggled the digits within you, pressing deeper and more full than your own fingers would, and your body jerked roughly when the tips brushed over your sweet spot while exploring your inner walls.

He seemed to know exactly what had drawn your reaction, and he placed a cheeky bite to your hip bone as he pressed his grin into your skin, revelling in the way you were trembling under him, clenching around his fingers as you neared your peak, each sound and shake only feeding his ego.

“You close for me, baby?”

“S’ close.”

Your words were slurring together, and he pumped his finger slowly, scissoring them and stretching you out as he dragged his fingers over your walls, scratching lightly with blunt nails and exploring every inch of your core that he could reach, finding every spot that made you tick and tremble for him. “Ready for my cock, hm? Ready to explode for me?”

“Please, I need it. I need you so bad. Please, Mitch!”

“Okay, kitten. I’ll give you what you need.”

His fingers were pulled from you, drawing a cry from your lips as the climax you had been so close to came winding down, and you propped yourself up your elbows to watch him. He was sucking on his fingers, offering you a lazy wink as he caught your gaze fixed on him, and his body began to move to the music still playing in the background. It was even slower, more torturous, than it had been at the party, because now he was really taking his time.

His thumbs hooked under the waistband of his sweats, and he dropped them down toned and muscled thighs, kicking off everything around his feet and ankles until nothing but a pair of tight boxers covered his body. His cock was straining against the fabric, the front damp from the precum he was leaking and you felt yourself go weak all over just at the sight of his cock pressing into the material, your thighs clamping shut and rubbing together as you nibbled on your lower lip.

Reaching one foot out, you poked at his hip, using your toes to push the material down a little bit as you whined, and he took your ankle in his hand, pulling you further down the bed until he could lean over you, placing a sweet kiss to your lips that soon became just as filthy as the rest of the night had been. His lips mouth was dominant and rough against yours, scratchy stubble dragging over the soft skin of your cheeks each time he pushed you back down, backing your body into the bed, the taste of yourself washing over your taste buds as his tongue traced your own, making sure you were getting just as much of your own taste as he’d had.

“I got you, baby.” You hummed into his mouth, feeling him pull away, dragging his hands over your body slowly until not a single part of him was touching you, and you pried your eyes back open, forcing yourself to look up at him, a knowing grin on his face as he slowly pushed down his boxers.

A thick, flushed cock sprung up from the second he released himself, skin slick with smeared precum and the tip and angry red, bouncing in the cool air as he freed himself of the final restraints. You feel your breath leave you in a huff, eyes half-lidded as you collapsed back into the mattress, singing one hand over your eyes and dipping the other between clenched thighs, pushing a single digit into yourself in a bid to relieve some of the built-up tension.

“No, no, no. I didn’t say you could touch yourself, did I?” He tutted, pulling a condom from his pocket and tearing it open, letting the foil flutter away to the floor as he rolled the rubbed onto his length. Plucking your hand from where you had been pleasing yourself, his knees found the bed either side of your body, pulling your finger up to his mouth and sucking it between plush pink lips. His hair was flopping slightly into his face as he peered down at you, but your eyes were falling shut anyway as his tongue cleaned off your skin of your juices, praises about the way you tasted leaving him but you didn’t bother to listen to him, because you were too busy focusing on the heat consuming you, and the man who had lit the fire.

“Can’t help it, you’re teasing and I’m needy.”

He grinned at your words, long and thin fingers swiping his hair out of his face, only for it to fall back down into place, and he supported himself on one hand as he used the other to line himself up at your entrance, the swollen head of his cock nudging at your clit and dragging through your soaked heat. “Fuck, you’re so warm and wet already.”

“Would be better if you fucked me.”

He snapped his hips into yours, a loud cry of his name falling from you as he sunk to full depth in only a second, stretching you out and filling you entirely, your eyes rolling back in your head and lips parted. You felt like the breath had been punched out of you as he’d sunk in, your back arching up and legs clamping around his waist in a quick movement, holding him close and tight to your body.

His own grunts and groans of blissful pleasure rang out in a mix with your own, harmonising together perfectly and bouncing off of the walls. His face dipped down to press into your neck, tongue swiping at your skin as the two of you took a second to adjust. Your walls were fluttering around him, squeezing at his length and dragging him in, his eyelashes tickling your skin as his own eyes closed, and scruffy hairs lining his chin leaving scrapes of red along your shoulder.

“Holy shit, I feel like I’m in Heaven, but you are pure fucking sin wrapped up in a pretty package.” His words were a little shaky when he spoke, and you hooked your own arms under his, nails digging into his back and he pressed up into your touch, before finally forcing himself to move, circling his hips a little as he found his balance, before his hips were slipping away from yours slowly, torturous for you both. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Your words were whispered out, trailing off as his cock dragged to your entrance, almost slipping from you, before he was slamming himself back into you with ease, your bodies sliding together with a beautiful friction, your tits pressed up to his chest, hips pressed together and nails raking down his back. You were clinging to him, his name like a mantra of your lips as he set a steady pace.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, quick and steady, the harmony accompanied by the sounds each of you let out, spurring one another on as he drove himself into you on repeat. He was long and thick, tapping against your sweet spot without effort, angling himself once he found it so that he could pound against it on repeat. You were already close, the orgasm you’d been denied before was now coming back to claim you with a vengeance as trembles wracked your body, the pleasure you were feeling was making you quiver underneath him.

“You feel so good.”

He pushed himself up enough to be able to smirk at you, his face a little flushed and skin lines with a thin layer of sweat, before his eyes were sweeping over your face, and he was dipping down to press his lips to your own. Despite the rapid rhythm he held while fucking into you, his lips moved slowly and passionately over your own. It was like a love song, sweet and steady and tempting as you drowned in his touch, one of your hands shifting from his back to cup your jaw.

His tongue trailed over your lower lip, asking permission to play with your own, to which you eagerly granted, and he sighed happily into your mouth as the muscles dragged tentatively over one another. It was delicate, teasing together as the way your body quivered and clung to his was opposed by the frantically needy way his mouth was meeting your own. He was breathing life into your body while simultaneously stealing your breath away, and the combination of feelings raging through you all became too much.

You felt your climax crashing around you before you even realised it, rolling your hips up to meet his own as you tried to drag out your peak, feeling his thrusts grow sloppy as you clenched and tightened around him. He was kneeling up, hands holding your thighs wide open as he watched with rapt attention at the way his cock was sliding in and out of you, coated in your juices as your body moved erratically at the overstimulation, and he cursed under his breath at the sight.

Pulling out of you for only a second, he flipped you over onto your stomach, large hands roaming over your body, one gripping you hip tightly as the other pushed down between your shoulder blades, flattening you into the bed and slipping up higher to lace into your hair. Easing himself back into you, your tightened walls made everything feel heightened, your eyes rolling back and screams of desperation muffled by the covers beneath you, his fingers become a fist where they were tangled within the strands and you pushed your hips back into his, fucking yourself fon his cock as you tried to take the high you needed, despite only just coming down from your first.

He allowed you to do so, mumbling praises under his breath as he watched you slam yourself back onto his length, only to pull yourself almost off, whining each time his tip dragged at the rim of your entrance, before you were seating yourself on his dick once again.

When the pace had become too slow, he pulled both hands back, gripping your hips with such force there would be purple patches in their place in the morning, before he was setting a brutal pace. Clearly, the urge to take you slowly and romantically had flown out of the window because he was letting out the urgent groans of a man that was close to unravelling as he pounded into you, and your own noises - something between sobs and screams -  were finally released when you tipped your head to the side and rested your cheek against the cushioned bedding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good for me, you’re incredible!” He punctuated each word with a particularly deep and harsh thrust, your eyes lining with tears as the electricity in your body lit you up like lights on a tree, every nerve crackling and sparking with energy as your fingers clenched in the sheets and you pushed yourself back into him.

“Fuck, Mitch! Just like that! Oh, God..”

You felt this one coming, felt the waves take you over as you squeezed your eyes shut, everything going silent as your mind went fuzzy and body went numb, your pleasure surging through you for pure ecstasy as you came undone once again. He leaned over you, panting and pressing his mouth along your spine in movements that resembled kisses, his hand slipping around to push down on your neglected button, your body going stiff as it all became too much, and that seemed to throw him over the edge too.

Your body clamped around him like a vice grip, warm and wet and flooding with arousal just for him broke his walls, and his voice was raspy and deep, sounding so pornographic you felt yourself blushing despite everything that had already happened as he moaned your name, stilling within you and filling the rubber on his cock with his cum.

When the shaking between you both had dulled down enough for him to regain some strength, he pulled himself out of you, ridding himself of the condom and wrapping it in a few tissues as he padded his way across the room to the bathroom, and you fell down into the mattress, absolutely exhausted and thoroughly spent yet entirely satisfied, your body singing out in bliss.

Only a second later, you felt nimble fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your legs apart before a warm cloth was swiping over your heat, and this time, you did feel your face flush with heat, a low and embarrassed laugh slipping from you. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you.” He spoke it like it was obvious, pressing a kiss to your temple before discarding the cloth across the room, and you watched him carefully, letting him pull you up into a sitting position, stripping the banner over your head and meeting your gaze, an eyebrow raising carefully. “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just.. not used to this, I guess.”

“One night stands with strippers in Vegas?” He joked, and you rolled your eyes fondly, watching as he tugged his boxers back up his legs, followed by his sweatpants, before he was scooping up the various other items scattered around the room.

“No, this whole sweet and caring thing. You’re different. I like it.” It was his turn to blush at your words, and instead of acknowledging them, he moved on, holding up his t-shirt as well as your silk camisole from before.

“Are these actually your pyjamas, or did you just wear them to look sexy?”

“Both? They’re not the most comfortable pyjamas, but they’re good for the heat.” He nodded at your thoughts, before passing you the shorts and dropping the top on the edge of the bed, offering you his t-shirt instead.

“You can wear mine, if you’d like? If you’re still up for that ‘chat’ we spoke about, that is.”

“I would love that, actually.” You accepted the material, tugging your shorts up your legs and pulling on his shirt, enjoying the way the soft cotton brushed over your skin, and he swiped up the bottle of vodka he’d brought as well as the room service menus, wiggling his eyebrows as you patted the spot next to you, the pair of you snuggling up into the fluffy pillows beside one another.

“Good, because I have a whole bunch of questions, there’s a lot I want to know about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You laughed at his words, and he cracked the top of the bottle open, offering you the fresh bottle for the first sip, making sure you could see him open it, like a true gentleman, despite the first opinion that ‘stripper in Vegas’ gave off, and he was surprising you with every act.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we do have all night.”

The morning had come far too quickly for your liking, the sunlight just a little too bright and the blaring of your phone across the room was just a little too loud, and you stumbled over the carpet to find the device, shutting it off, considering getting back into bed for just a  moment, before the realisation of the day came crashing back to you.

“Oh, my God! It’s the wedding day!”

A deep groan came from the pile of blankets, pillows and cushions on the bed in response. Making you way back over, you ran a single finger along his cheekbone, watching as his eyes cracked open to look at you, squinting and blinking against the light, but with a huff, he shifted himself a little more to be able to offer you a sweet smile.

“My best friend is getting married today!”

“She is indeed.” His morning voice was like something out of a wet dream, and you groaned under your breath, the same deep and raspy tone that had come progressively through the late hours as you’d slipped towards the point of being exhausted, before crashing only a few hours prior.

The night all came flooding back to you, bits and pieces, remembering just how long the two of you had talked for, sitting up among the pillows and sharing the food and drinks, nibbling on the snacks and telling jokes. Then, as the hour ticked by, you’d ended up cradled into his chest, previously light stories and fun facts from your lives had become deep confessions and longing wishes about the future and the past, your cheek pressed or his skin as he weaved a hand through your hair, your legs tangled together as you curled up under the blankets.

The sky had been lighting up with pale hues of colour, the sun threatening to rise before you’d finally stopped spilling the deepest secrets of your hearts to one another and instead remained wrapped up in every bit of each other as you drifted off for a few hours to snooze before the big day began. Now, you were practically bouncing on the tips of your toes, renewed with a fresh energy and excitement for the day.

“I have to be at breakfast in ten minutes!”

You were ducking into the bathroom only a second later, brushing your hair and tying it up in a messy bun atop your head, washing your face and preparing yourself for the hair and makeup you’d be having done once you’d eaten, scrubbing your teeth quickly and listening to the rustling of material on the other room.

When you emerged, you found he’d made the bed, the sheets straightened and pillows arranged tidily, his shoes already on his feet and phone tucked into his pocket. The plates from last night had been piled back up onto the trolley and pushed out into the corridor, the room neat and clean once again.

“You seem excited.”

“I am! I’m a maid of honour, and my friend is getting married! I couldn't be happier. Also, there’s going to be pastries at breakfast.” He beamed at your words, and you peeled his shirt up and over your head, neither of you caring for your nudity as you handed it back to him, letting him shrug it on and pull it down over his body, a mumble about it being warm and cosy barely reaching your ears. “You want to see my dress?”

“Of course, kitten.”

You flashed him a grin, winking at him in a playful response, before you were removing the silky shorts from your body too. Tossing them onto the bed for later, you rifled through your luggage for a fresh set of underwear, clipping your bra on and tugging the lace up your legs, before taking the plastic-covered dress from the wardrobe, the only garment you’d bothered to hang up.

Unzipping the wrap carefully, you freed your dress, shaking it out to free it of any wrinkles and holding it up before him, a low whistle sounding in appreciation as he reached out two fingers, brushing his knuckles against the cleek and velvety material. Undoing the zipper, you stepped into it with caution, easing your arms into the sleeves and leaving the back hanging open, choosing instead to push your feet into your heels, standing up to your full height before him, showing off the entire outfit.

“What do you think?” You did a little twirl, and he stepped towards you while your back was turned, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder before fasting the dress up for you, spinning you in his arms so that you were face to face.

“You’re beautiful.”

Instead of responding, you leaned into him, your lips meeting his in a chaste kiss. It was just a press of your lips to his, a happy hum on his lips as your mouth worked together in a slow dance, before a knocking at your door and the sounds of the other bridesmaids on the other side prompted you both to pull away, and you cleared your throat, telling them all to go onwards, and that you’d catch up with them in a moment.

“That’s your call.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I should go.” You gaped at him, eyes wide as he took a step back from you, and you instead reached out and took his wrist, pulling his movements to a halt as he looked at you curiously.

“Can I get your number, or something?”

“You already have my number.” He gave you a look as though you were supposed to know what that meant, your eyebrows furrowing and lips closing into a thin line as the tension between you both grew, and he let out a sigh, running a hand over his face. “Just call the same number and ask for me for your next event. I’ll be there.”

“Wait, what?” The cloud of confusion cleared very quickly, and you offered him a gentle smile, stepping into his space and raising a hand up to his cheek, his body a little stiff as he watched you. “I don’t want the club number, I want your number. I want to see you again.”

“But, why?”

His voice cracked a little when he spoke, and you swore your heart did the same, your thumb rubbing over his cheekbone carefully, and he tipped his head just barely in order to lean into your palm a little more, his eyes scanning yours with curiosity. “I was thinking maybe we could go to dinner, or something a little less cheesy. Like, go-karting, or a picnic.”

“Like a date?”

“Is that okay?” It was your turn to be nervous, and he let out a breathless laugh, ducking his head for only a second, before he was wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you into him, burying his face in your hair.

“Yeah, that’s so fucking okay with me.” He pressed a few kisses to your hairline, sighing happily against your skin as he all but sagged into you, clinging to you as you held him tightly. “Girls don’t really want to date me, because of the whole stripper thing. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I really like you.”

“I don’t care what you do for a job, honey. As long as I’m the only one you’re kissing and curling up with at night, you can do whatever you want.”

He pulled away, holding your face in his hands and fixing you with a gaze so intense and deep that you felt your knees go a little weak beneath you. “I promise. I’m really good in relationships, I just haven’t had the chance in so long. I’ll never hurt you, I swear it.”

You could only nod, lips flicking at the corners, and your voice hoarse as you finally managed to mumble out a response; “Kiss me, already.”

He did as told, smiling into the exchange as your mouth pressed together, a dance of their own being choreographed by your hearts, his hands holding your cheeks tightly as your own gripped at any space you could get, his chest, his hips, his back. You were dragging him closer, pulling him into you and holding on tightly.

It wasn’t like the kisses from the night before - hot and frantic and rushed, or like the ones from earlier - longing and anxious and lazy. Instead, it was slow and reassuring and passionate, easing his fears and your own as the two of you simply held onto one another, before your commitments for the day came rushing back, forcing you to snap away and drag a whine from the man before you.

“No, that was good. Let’s keep doing that.”

“Hm, maybe later, baby. I have a wedding to get to. The maid of honour can’t be late!” He sighed lowly, stealing another peck before he was backing off, hands raised as he licked at his lips to gain every bit of your taste, his eyes sweeping over you with admiration. “You know, I still have a plus one to the wedding.”

“Not this late you don’t.” He teased, running his hands over your sides affectionately as you swung your bag up onto your shoulder.

“One quick call to the reception and I’m sure we can squeeze in an extra seat and meal. If you’re interested.. that is?”

“You don’t think it would be weird if you took the stripper from her bachelorette to the party? You don’t think you’ll be judged?” His voice was light, and the slight drip of fear and worry dripping back into his tone, and you’d only just managed to ease that anxiety, before you were lacing your fingers with his and pulling him toward the door of your room.

“To hell with what they think. We’re all that matters.”

“You really are perfect for me.” His words were spoken like a dreamy sigh, and you rolled your eyes with no heat behind the action, closing the door behind you both and leaving the pair of you standing in the hotel halls. You leaned up, brushing your lips to his cheek, and leaving him with a slightly red face and a cheesy grin that he was trying to hide. “Give me your phone.”

You handed him over the device, and he punched in his number, finishing it off with a ridiculous selfie before he was handing it back to you, dragging the tips of his finger over your own when you touched, being sure to drag out even the simple bit of contact.

“Text me the details, kitten, I’ll be there.”

“Can’t wait.”

[clearlynotjanus]

Loceit Week Day 3: Wine/Chess Teaser/WIP

This one's a little rough at the moment so I'm considering it a WIP despite all the plot beats being there. I anticipate having to go back & edit a substantial amount of the phrasing but enjoy what I have of it for now! This was A LOT of fun to write. I had to learn so much about Chess to feel confident writing it & I hope it shows! I based the match they play on Grigory Serper vs Ioannis Nikolaidis' The Immortal Sacrifice Game. Click through to see it played out & analyzed by an amazing Chess Youtuber!

Anyway enjoy this teaser! & as always, if you’d like to be on my tag list to be @’d in works like this as well as my fic related stuff, give this linked post a like or send me a message. If you have any questions or suggestions, my ask box is always open! If you would like to get the rest of this fic early access, please consider subscribing to my Patreon. If you’d just like to support my work or request a writing commission, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. Thanks so much for being an awesome audience 💛

CW: SFW sexual tension, wine Word Count: 5033 Genre: Gen Rating: Teen Ships: Loceit

Taglist: @robertdownerjr @dangitsbrightinhere @iamuncomffy @bimtrimmerr @catalinaacosta @evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn @dragonfander @virgilstarantula @a-rudethude @poptartsaysurloved @serpentinesomebody @the-dead-and-the-decaying @vexelore @the-snekwhisperer-world @whatishappeningrightnow @sanderssidesangsttrash @trash-bastard @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626 @cosplayhanna @edupunkn00b​ @wouldntyou-liketoknow

“Well,” Janus concluded before finishing off his wine in a big gulp. “If he’s going to ditch me, I’m not going to do him the service of talking about him all night,” He said with exaggerated contempt, pouring himself more wine. “I know it isn’t quite rescuing Thomas from financial disaster,” Janus continued as he turned & topped off Logan’s drink. “But what would you say to a game?”

“A game?” He questioned, slowly bringing the nearly over-filled glass to his lips for a delicate sip. “I suppose that depends on what genre, though I can’t imagine your choice would be dull.” 

Janus grinned impishly. “Splendid,” The word was almost melodic as he departed the kitchen. Logan blinked & followed blindly before realizing Janus meant for them to sit in their usual spots at the table.

Without more instruction, Janus reached behind himself for a square box that leaned between the bookshelf & wall. It only took Logan a moment to realize what was happening as it was placed on the table & opened.

“Ah,” Despite himself, a small smirk curved his lips. “Are you sure you want to challenge me at Chess?” Confidence radiated off Logan suddenly as he settled in his chair. It was utterly inconceivable to him that any Side could even come close to checking him, let alone claiming an outright victory. 

“Well I figure,” Janus started, eyes focused on the task of setting up their pieces, “Monopoly & Clue are no fun without others, & I’m not quite in the mood for anything trivia based tonight, so,” He finished with a one handed shrug, meeting Logan’s eyes innocently as he took a long sip of his glass.

“I don’t think you should take this so lightly,” Logan warned in a smug tone that made Janus’ stomach warm with anticipation. “The last time Remus & I played, he swallowed his own Queen to keep from being checked again.”

“You know that hardly means anything, he’d swallow pieces for less,” Janus chuckled & Logan joined after a moment. “But don’t worry about me,” He comforted slyly as their laughter ended. He propped his elbows up on the table & folded his hands beneath his chin. “I can hold my own.”

“We will see about that,” Logan promised as adjusted forward in his seat. He gave a small movement with both hands, gesturing at the board. “White moves first.”

Janus smiled lopsidedly, gave a curt nod, & began the game. From the start, his aggression was obvious even if his face & body language said otherwise. With slow & soft hands, he moved three pawns forward, already beelining for Logan’s side of the board as he maintained a neutral expression. Logan’s movements were direct & calculated as he prepared both of his halves with two forward pawns & a defensive angle from his Bishop. Unprompted, Janus brought forward his Knight; Logan blinked & paused before meeting Janus’ eyes & mirroring the move. 

“Hm,” Janus hummed brusquely. He placed his other Knight on guard in front of his King.

“Hmm?” Logan mimicked, drawing the sound out as a question. He placed his other Knight in front of his Queen.

“Nothing,” He sang quietly with a sudden offensive move from the Knight Logan had assumed would remain defensive on his King. 

Preemptively Logan moved a pawn to set up his own attack. Janus paid no mind as he enlisted his Bishop forward. Another black pawn. Janus’ other Bishop. Carefully still playing for both sides of his board, Logan moved an opposite pawn again. Cryptically playing in the center of his, Janus went forward with another of his own pawns.

“You really shouldn’t play like that,” Janus reprimanded, breaking the surmounting tension that Logan only noticed with its absence. He leaned back in his chair, crossing an arm as he took a long sip from his glass. The edges of Logan began to go pleasantly fuzzy & the warmth in his stomach grew into a gentle hunger. “It never ends well,” Janus waved at the board.

Logan cleared his throat & reached to relieve the dryness there with his wine. Janus’ playstyle was nearly as chaotic as Remus’, he mused, but even with a neutral expression, it felt far more purposeful. What that purpose was seemed to be going right over Logan’s head. Perhaps he was giving Janus more credit than he deserved with that thought, though this was the Side that had planned their swap in April which led to an undeniable win in that discussion. Logan pursed his lips & nodded at the board.

“Let’s continue.”

Janus chuckled & splayed his fingers, welcoming Logan’s turn; which was to capture Janus’ intruding pawn with his own, only prompting Janus to quickly do the same as though that was exactly what he had been expecting Logan to do. Pawn for pawn, Logan sighed & pressed his Queen forward. Janus Castled his Queen into the corner.

“Told you so,” He whispered like a song & Logan narrowed his eyes. The harsh expression made Janus smirk despite himself, only making Logan’s frustration grow.

Firmly Logan moved his pawn forward, forcing Janus to retreat his Knight. On the offensive now, Logan attacked knowingly with his own Knight. Janus’ brow twitched as he stared at the board’s new arrangement -- did he see it? Logan watched apprehensively as the wine-greased gears in his head turned. He was one move from Check via his Knight. After a moment that passed fast enough to convince Logan Janus knew exactly what he was doing, his eyes lifted. His expression was taunting & entertained as he deliberately slid his Queen forward one space, conceding before the mess unfolded.

Logan sighed heavily with loose cheeks & leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms. Janus laughed genuinely, delight filling him to the brim.

“We can stop,” He offered while knowing Logan would never accept a forfeit like that. In response, he scrunched his face mockingly & reached for his wine, nearly polishing the glass off. Janus held up his hands, surrendering the suggestion. “Your move then, darling.”

Impatiently Logan assessed the board before sitting up & hastily shifting his pawn forward, making room behind the piece. Janus completed his defense around the right half of his board by bringing his Knight ahead again. Preparing for another attack that may have been too daring, Logan pushed his Knight back, instantly clearing a line for his Bishop which now stared directly down the barrel of Janus’ grouped pieces. He inhaled slowly.

“Your move,” Logan taunted with a smirk as Janus paused.

continue reading

[theriu]

A Meager Attempt At A Cool Rocks Post

So I have been inspired by @reddpenn​'s superb Cool Rock Posts. I too have a love for cool rocks, but it pales in comparison to the breadth and depth of both collection size and rock knowledge Redd has. Alas, my love of rocks remains uneducated and amateur, which is kind of ironic since I took three geology classes in college for my science credits. (Turns out I just like pretty things, actually remembering their formation and hardness and stuff doesn’t factor in.)

Nonetheless! I wish to share my small but still lovely collection of rocks and what little I know about them!

I have made this little display for our purposes. Obviously there are a few stand-ins so that my collection does not look too lonely, but if there is one thing I do excel at collecting, it is cool-looking Stuff to scatter around my house. Pay no mind to the Trex, he was a recent purchase from the home decoration store because he LOOKS like rock, which I think we can all agree is a good aesthetic for him. So far he has been a very good chap.

We shall start with the Small Boys:

These are the rocks I've had the longest, and in truth pay little mind to. As anyone who has frequented a gift shop with a rock section will recognize, these are the kind of assorted rocks one finds in a box, pays for by weight or bag limit, and takes home in a charming felt pouch. I don't even know what kind of rocks they are. Perhaps variations of the same kind? Someone with greater rock knowledge than I may know.

But you should know that, when it comes to rocks, I have a secret:

I really, really, REALLYREALLYREALLY like rocks you can SEE INTO

There's something so beautiful and magical, even mysterious, about translucent stone. Be it a glass ball full of swirled colors or a rough chunk of rock revealing deeply embedded inclusions, the depth and glow of a transparent or translucent rock fills me with delight. Perhaps it puts me in mind of bodies of water, and all the life swimming about in them. It makes you want to believe there is more to this simple stone, to imagine cool fantasy stories around their hidden abilities. This is why this seemingly boring Gray found a home - look how he lights up! Even Green has a bit of glow! (Blue does not, sadly, but he is blue. I like blue. :D)

My fondness for orange rocks is also going to become highly apparent as we continue:

Left: A GORGEOUS carnelian palm stone I found at a steampunk convention last year. I think I paid $30 for it. Now, I am not one to dole out large amounts of money for rocks willy-nilly - I have to be REALLY CERTAIN I love a rock enough to spend the asking price (i.e. How Likely Am I To Hold And Stare At This Rock For Long Periods?). But just look at this BEAUTY! It's like I'm holding a small chunk out of the rings of Saturn in my hand. It is also just about the right shape to pass for a dragon egg. And, I mean, look at it in the light:

Tell me that doesn’t look like a yolk. XD

I waffle between imagining this as a dragon egg, or plotting to incorporate it into my orange-and-yellow mandalorian cosplay as a chunk of stone from an old Jedi temple that my mando has hooked up to an arm device that uses it to detect force-users in the vicinity. Like I said, rocks are awesome for creating cool stories. :D

(Also: while I do not ascribe to the new age-y uses of palm stones, I will say that there is something decidedly pleasant about just holding a gorgeous, smooth, cool rock that fits perfectly in the palm of your hand!)

Back to the first picture, because Tumblr has an obnoxious 10 pic limit on posts...

Right: This is my newest rock, purchased just this week at the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery. Sometimes a particular rock just jumps out at you, and that is what happened with this very reasonably-priced $5 piece of orange calcite I brought home. 

It looks like a huge chunk of candy. I almost want to eat it. But where it lacks the superior factor of rock candy that is deliciousness, this citrine has the estimable advantage of not turning sticky no matter how long I touch it.

And once again, when held up to the light...

Look at that gorgeous glow! She turns almost yellow in the light! I tell you, I looked at most of the orange citrine in the box, but this one that initially grabbed my attention just really stuck with me. Sometimes rock collecting is just the simple joy of finding that rare rock that really leaps out at you ahead of all the other pretty rocks which give you your fill for a few seconds before being left peacefully on their shelf.

(In other words, find the rocks that you want to stare at while spinning in your palm for unreasonable amounts of time like a crow adoring its shinies.)

Now, this little slice of a geode (I THINK??? Experts please advise) isn't very exotic. But for the paltry sum I paid for it at a rummage tent, and the GORGEOUS swirls this picture does not do justice, I think my reasons for claiming it are clear:

Someone more knowledgeable than me, please feel free to point out what qualities make this piece so lovely. It is amazing, like the frozen visage of a swirly space storm frosted with ice. I want to make it into jewelry or attach it to something, and I never wear jewelry. Why is the carrying around of pretty stones just to look at fondly in bored moments not more socially acceptable, I ask you?! (Not that this has stopped me, at times.)

Alas, I'm probably getting a bit long-winded, but we are nearing the end of the collection! And I'm sure someone out there is interested in the contents of this fun little box:

This was actually a prize I won for completing the scavenger hunt games in first place at a Steampunk convention several years ago! And I LOVE IT! A perfect little custom exhibit box, complete with labels! It looks so cool on my shelf. And all the pieces are authentic!

First, the ever-familiar purple amethyst. I must confess, I am a slight hipster in regards to liking things a bit more if they are less well-known, and perhaps that is why I don't have much opinion about amethyst. It is undeniably lovely in color and translucency, but it's just EVERYWHERE - I feel sometimes like it is the unofficial mascot of Cool Rocks In Gift Shops. So this rock isn't high on my favorites list, but it still feels right to have a piece.

The trilobite is my real favorite of the group. Look how big he is! Look how complete! I'd never held such a big one before this, much less owned it! And he's still a little guy compared to some out there! So cool!!! And he is indeed a rock, because fossils :D

And the last one isn’t a rock at all, but come on, ACTUAL VIKING AGE METAL. That's just cool.

But what's this? A mere decorative addition? An imposter?!

Sure, sand and glass are both made of silicates, but they don't really count as Cool Rocks, or even gems. But what's that there, tucked away in the shell...?

My genuine pink pearl from Hawaii! Now, granted, pearls are not your typical rock. But they ARE considered gems, just made by a living creature, so I felt it deserved a mention. I got this two years ago on a family vacation to Maui, at the Dole Plantation. While pearls have never been a favorite of mine, this one is special to me because my mother, sister, and cousin also did the "open an oyster and get the pearl inside" touristy thing that places like this offer. We almost all got different colors, and it was just really cool. There is a hole drilled in one side in case I ever want it mounted in a ring or something, but truthfully, I wish I had left it pristine. It now resides as a secret treasure in my other, glassier souvenir from that cool trip.

Alas, these are all the rocks and near-rocks I have to share. If you like cool rocks and want to learn actual cool science about LOTS of cool rocks, definitely check out @reddpenn​'s blog, where you will find MANY COOL ROCK POSTS SERIOUSLY REDD YOU HAVE SO MANY COOL ROCKS!!! 

And if you wish to share YOUR cool rocks, I highly encourage you to do so! Let me be your forerunner in sharing cool rocks without actually knowing all the sciency stuff behind them, because sometimes you just like things because they are pretty and tickle your imagination.

~River