#coming up with a lie was kinda hard honestly. i had to slightly bend one aspect of canon to come up with the lie 😭

[blue-thief]

reblogs are strongly encouraged!

*division rap battle

answer added in the reblogs

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings/Disclaimer: NSFW content/Older Ateez but age differences is written withing legal boundaries. Also mentions of infidelity (which I don't condone, justify nor encourage), corruption kink and loss of virginity.

A/N: Also, Yeosang's reaction is a sneak peek at the Dilf! Fic in my w.i.p.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

It all started as a way to get a passing grade for the semester, but soon became a mission to get inside your professor's pants. You still remembered the unamused gaze he gave you when you first suggested you 'help' him out.

"Nice try Miss Y/N.... but perhaps instead of wasting time behind the bleachers sucking off the jocks' cocks, maybe dip your head instead into your books and study for once."

You couldn't believe he'd actually reject you. No man had ever rejected you, they always fell to your charms. Professor Kim was about to become your biggest challenge yet and you didn't mind. Besides, something about fucking an older man had you pulling out your trusted vibrator out so many times during the night. Kim Hongjoong was just so fucking hot and you desperately wanted him, even if for one night.

"Please Mr. Kim..... you know they say I give the best blow jobs here." You tried yet again one day when everyone else left.

"They? You mean horny 20 something year olds who bust a nut by just a booby pic?"

For the first time, his poker face finally had an expression in the form of a smirk.

"Honey, you're going to have to try a lot harder than that. I've had my cock sucked by countless women in all my years. Besides..."

Leaning closer to you, he reached a hand out so his thumb could graze across your bottom lip.

"What makes you think a pretty young thing like you can take a mature cock like mine? You've probably never even had one half the size of mine."

You let out an involuntary moan as you pictured just how well endowed your teacher was. Looking down, you noticed the obvious bulge he was donning and you wanted nothing more than to pull him out and suck him dry. It seemed he noticed since he sat back down on his chair. Gesturing for you to come over, you practically hopped over to him, letting him guide you on your knees as he began to take himself out.

"But do knock yourself out. I'm kinda curious to see what the newer generations do nowadays."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Others would have complained and would be annoyed by the fact their new neighbors would have almost daily fights between them, typical marital disputes. But not you, you didn't mind hearing their screaming that was clearly heard through the walls. Especially since more often than not their fights would end in rough, angry sex that had you touching yourself at nights, a guilty pleasure you always looked forward to.

And you had been eyeing the husband from the moment the couple moved in. Park Seonghwa was everything you looked for in a man and even more. Handsome, mature, tall, well sculpted, responsible, sexy as hell and you knew for a fact he could definitely fuck. One day you knocked over at their door to give them one of them many pastries you'd often bake for your neighbors in the building.

"You know Mr. Park....if you ever get too frustrated with your wife....my door is always open." You boldly offered him.

He looked at you in shock but you sent him a reassuring wink before walking back to your apartment, making sure to sway your hips so he could have the image engraved in his mind. And boy did you rile him up. Now he couldn't stop thinking about you. You're all he had in his head. Now whenever he'd fight, he'd storm out and you'd welcome him, proud to get what his wife wasn't getting anymore. And you were hell bent on making sure you'd keep him to yourself.

"Cum inside me....fill me up." You told him one day.

He was so lost in his lust for you he didn't think he'd hear you correctly. Giggling, you flipped the position so you were now on top of him, bouncing yourself on his enormous cock.

"I'll give you what your wife won't give you. Knock me up with your babies, fill me to the brim. I wanna carry your kids in me." You ran your hands down your chest and placed them on top of your stomach to get your point further across.

Seonghwa was going wild by this point. He had wanted to become a father for so long but his narcissistic and conceited wife would not budge. Yet here you were offering him the one thing he wanted and he couldn't resist. Sitting up, he began pounding up into you with more intensity, sending you crying his name over and over again as his teeth began to mark your neck.

"Oh I'll make sure to knock you up babygirl. Gonna fuck my kids into you...fuck! You're going to look even more pretty carrying my baby in you."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yours and Yunho's relationship was rather.... unconventional to say the least. He ended up becoming your sugar daddy after you had auctioned off your virginity online cause you were a broke college student and you honestly didn't give a damn at that point. But it was you who were in for a surprise when you met him in the hotel room and he just handed you the money without wanting anything in return.

"Just take it and don't give away something so valuable away like that."

You were so stunned by his behavior and it honestly sent some weird feeling inside you.

"But what if I wanna give it away?" You asked before he could open the door to leave. He let out a deep sigh.

"Trust me, you don't." He insisted.

Biting your lip, you took in his height and built. You weren't going to lie and pretend you didn't size him up from the moment you saw him. He probably had a monster cock that could tear you apart and part of you wanted that. Plus he was probably experienced in making love to someone so why not?

"If it's with you I really do..."

He whipped his back at your words, about to scold you but his words got caught in his mouth when you began to strip in front of him before laying down on the bed, legs spread for him and anxiously waiting for him to touch you. He couldn't resist himself. He ended up pining your tiny and virgin body under him, tearing your hymen apart and claiming you as his. He made sure you were in no pain and he had you cumming more than once. You could say it was an amazing first time.

You spent the rest of the night talking, and you ended up spilling about your economic situation. Perhaps it was pity, perhaps he was high on having taking your virginity, or perhaps he truly felt something for you. Either way you agreed to be his sugar baby, and you don't regret it one bit. Not when you get to have his monster cock in you, and he's not complaining either when he gets to stuff himself in you.

"Fuck! You're still so damn tight my little one... just like the first time."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

He tried to ignore the sound of the shower right behind the door he was leaning in. He had to. He shouldn't try to imagine what was going on in there. But as his eyes closed, he couldn't stop picturing your naked body glistening as the water cascaded down your skin. His hand grazed over his erection, wondering if perhaps you were doing something similar.

Before he knew what he was doing, he slowly and quietly opened the door, the hot steam fogging up the glass doors to the shower but he could still make out your beautiful and young figure. He witnessed as your hand played with your clit, dipping inside your folds as tiny gasps and pants escaped your lips.

"Mr. Kang...." Hearing you murmur his name sent any self-control he had out the window.

He began to strip himself out of his clothes, very slowly and in silence so as to not disturb you. Besides you looked so pretty as you touched yourself, trying to get yourself off at the thought of him. Without taking his eyes off you, he slid the glass door and soon stood behind you in the luxurious and spacious shower. You jumped slightly when you felt familiar hands wrap themselves around your waist, fingertips digging into you. You could never forget his touch, you remembered how those hands felt when they once caught you and saved you from a nasty fall.

You knew it wasn't a dream or fantasy when you felt lips pressing open mouth kisses against the side of your neck and traveled down to your shoulders. You moved your hand away to allow the person behind you to take control, his long and slender fingers finally making your darkest fantasies come true as they penetrated inside you, moving back and forth in an effort to bring you into an orgasm.

Kang Yeosang's deep and husky voice breathed into your ear, sending shivers down your body.

"You don't know how long I've lusted after you..."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

With Choi San it wasn't you seducing him. It was letting him seduce you. Ever since he saw you walk in with your short skirt, applying for a part time job at his bookstore, he had been wanting you, craved your body. And honestly... you fed him in his game.

You would wear even shorter skirts, bending down right in front of him so he could get a glimpse at your scantily clad pussy. Or you'd constantly ask him for help in putting away some of the books that went on higher shelves just so he'd put his hands around you, which he'd often keep there longer than needed. And you loved it.

One day he had been frustrated by you past his limit. Throwing away all decorum, he came up behind you as you arranged some books. You let out a gasp when you felt his hands grope your breasts.

"I've been working you too hard my darling... maybe I should let you take a little break?" You became putty in his hands when he used his satoori tone with you.

You didn't stop him when he lifted your shirt up to your neck, nor when he pulled your breasts out from your bra cups. You just moaned with no shame as his fingers tweaked and pinched at your highly sensitive nipples.

"Fuck you have really soft and squishy boobs. It's like they were made for my hands."

Snaking one hand under your skirt, he was surprised to not only find out that you were practically dripping for him but you were not wearing any underwear that day.

"Shit darling, did you came here hoping I would fuck you?"

You threw your head back as he cupped your heat, rubbing at your clit.

"Yes! Please fuck me Mr. Choi! W-wanna get fucked by you." You begged him, pushing your ass behind you to grind against his very obvious bulge.

He was more than satisfied by your answer. Finally getting your consent, he no longer had to hold back. Freeing his cock which was leaking at the tip, he pushed your skirt up to expose your ass cheeks. Giving each of them a few slaps with his cock, he teased you as he rubbed his bulbous tip along your slit.

"Now my little apprentice, I'm going to show you how a real man fucks a little cunt like yours."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Spotting exactly what you were hoping to find for the night, you approached the older male and sat in front of him. Giving you a little glance, he furrowed his eyebrows as he took in your countenance.

"Aren't you a little young to be in a club like this?" He questioned you.

"Trust me, I'm old enough." You boldly took the glass he had in front of him and took a sip before setting it back down.

He let out a tiny chuckle as you practically drowned almost an entire glass of straight vodka. You had guts, he was giving you that.

"Little lady I'm sure there are more young men your age scattered about waiting for a beauty like you to pay attention to them. So why not go find them?" He suggested.

You frowned at him, a tiny huff coming out from your lips.

"Guys my age are all idiots and little babies. Absolutely nothing fun about them."

You scooted closer to him, your hand coming down to rub at one of his ridiculous thick thighs.

"I prefer men who are more older and..... bigger." You made emphasis on that last word.

The male snorted as he let you continue your little game. He was actually pretty amused and flattered at having a young and attractive girl hit on him.

"Little lady as much as I'd love to take you back to my place and fuck you into my sheets, I'm warning you that I'm into more.... risque and exotic pleasures and honestly....I don't think an inexperienced thing like you could handle it."

The man, whom you soon found out was named Song Mingi peeked your interest even more as he confided in you that little detail. And you were more than happy to indulge in extremely naughty kinks. That's how you ended up in his bed, your hands and feet tied to each of the bed posts, blindfolded, gagged, nipple clamps adorning your perky breasts as your older lover for the night was continuing his abuse on your swollen and red pussy, drawing out orgasm after orgasm out of your body.

"Fuck! Holy shit!" He cried out, grunting in an almost animalistic manner as he pumped his cum all over your body.

Removing your blindfold and mouth gag, he looked for any signs of regret but was instead met with your fucked out face that held a tiny grin.

"Older and bigger cocks are indeed the best."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Working as an exotic dancer, you met a lot of customers and got used to having regulars. But no one got under your skin or made you lose your senses like Jung Wooyoung. Usually you didn't give any special treatment to anyone unless it guaranteed more cash in your garter belt. But there was something about him that had you constantly looking over when he was there. Every time he was watching from the crowd, you made sure every wink, every lip bite or swirl of your tongue was directed at him.

You were thinking about giving up, since weeks passed and he didn't seem to make a move on you or on any of the other girls. Perhaps he was dragged there by his friends since he always sat there idly, no expression whatsoever. When you were told someone payed to have a private show with you, the last person you expected to see was none other than Jung Wooyoung himself, sitting on the couch, a glass of wine on his hand. Pulling out a large bill, he smirked at you.

"One hundred dollars if you take off that top."

His request had your legs wobbling. Since it was a rather fancy and elegant strip club, none of you ever actually stripped completely bare, only staying in scanty lingerie. But honestly, you didn't hesitate and let the top fall to the floor. You loved the way Wooyoung was eyeing your chest, tongue poking out to wet his lip. Reaching into his pocket once more, this time he produced even more bills and layed them on the table.

"500 dollars if you remove that lace thong."

Holy crap, you thought to yourself. That was a lot of money that you weren't going to refuse. And besides, you were already wet for the older man that you would suck him off right then and there if he asked you to, with absolutely no payment. This time his hand began to rub at his crotch. Unzipping his pants, he took his long length out which had your mouth watering and staring for so long that you didn't notice the even larger stash of cash he had taken out of his jacket which layed beside him.

"One thousand dollars if you hop your pretty ass over here and bounce yourself on my cock."

Not needing to be told twice, you practically plunged yourself down on him, not caring to take your time as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. The man underneath you was enjoying himself as well, the visual of your ass clapping against his hips driving him insane.

"Fuck! Yes! Just like that- oh god!"

You let out a yelp when his hand came down to slap your cheeks rather harshly, hips taking control as he rammed his cock into you. Through raspy grunts and growls, he made his final proposition to you:

"Your own place, monthly allowance and anything else you want if you leave this place and become my own personal fuck toy."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Working as the personal assistant for your father's CEO friend was not easy. Not because Choi Jongho was difficult, scary and begrudgingly agreed to have his friend's daughter work for him when she had no experience, but because the man was hot. You had the hots for your dad's friend and knowing you would have to be by his side for 8-10 hours on the daily both thrilled and terrified you.

"Can't you even work a simple printer? Seriously? How stupid could you possibly be?"

You honestly didn't mind his constant insults and degradation. In fact...that's exactly what you wanted, even more if he did it in front of others. Truth was, you did know how to work a printer and do other office related small tasks. You just chose not to just to have him yell and scream at you. His anger further fueled your sexual desires for him.

Eventually he ended up finding out what your little plan was when he chanced upon you sending a fax for someone, something he had always refrained from teaching you cause he thought you'd be too stupid to do.

"Why you cunning little vixen." He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he saw you, angry that a little brat like you was getting under his skin just to get a reaction out of him. He felt his palm start to tremble with an urge to bend you over and spank you into place.

Which he did end up doing, among other things in an effort to get you to behave or straighten up. But it never fully worked since you kept testing his patience, and he truly didn't mind. He liked your little game and he started to look forward to having his little vixen misbehave just to put her back in her place. And you lived for having him punish and degrade you.

"Look at you. You look like a common whore, letting me fuck her little hole as much as I want to."

You whimpered as his hand pulled your hair, making you lift your head and watch from the mirror as he fucked you from behind against his dresser.

"Maybe I should take a picture and send it to your dad. Let him know that his precious daughter is nothing more than a slut that likes getting her tight little hole fucked by his best friend."

You shook at his words, tears steaming down your face from the overstimulation he was putting you through. You absolutely loved it. Loved having him remind you of how wrong and sinful it was. Pressing your back against his chest, he wrapped an arm around your throat as he pounded his cock into you like the beast he was.

"But no... I won't do that. This will be our little secret."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[justyourfriendlynhspooderman]

Batfam x Child!Reader - Confused Pt. 2

Guess who’s back after like year

Honestly I didn’t want to come back to it but I decided just to go with it. Hopefully the small amount of people reading this will enjoy it. I hated the first part but here’s the link to it if you haven’t read it yet!

Batfam x childreader! - Confused pt. 1

Just a quick warning, there’s swearing in this one!

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

“Knock Knock Knock”

A man, who was definitely a bit older, opened the door. “Ah, Master Dick,” The man started in a thick but posh British accent. “Welcome home.” He bowed a bit and opened the door wider for “master Richard” to walk in. “Thank you Alfred.” 

Dick and Alfred. Got it. 

Y/n made sure to remember their names, not wanting to be rude. “And what do we have here?” Alfred asks with a small smile and his brows raised. “My name is Y/n L/n,” she bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Alfred looked at Dick with a questionable face. Dick just shrugged with a nervous chuckle. “No need for that Miss L/n, up you go.” She stood up straight and nodded. Alfred turned his attention back on Dick, waiting for an explanation. “I found her looking at the mansion when I came back from patrol and I asked her what she was doing. Apparently, she’s an orphan so I kinda just decided to keep her…..?” The end of his sentence turned into a question instead of a statement. 

Y/n looked at Alfred curiously as he nodded. It was so weird. He definitely had emotion but didn’t really show anything. It was almost completely stoic. She nodded to herself and decided that she liked him.

“Would you like to show her to Master Bruce sir?” Alfred says. Dick sighed and nodded, “I guess I kinda have to.” He mumbled. “It was nice meeting you Miss L/n.” She did another quick bow, “Thank you for your hospitality, Mister Alfred.” She stood up quickly and ran after Dick.

Her tiny legs slowed down as she finally caught up with him. “You’re very fast mister,” she panted. He looked down at her. “How old are you?” he questioned, realizing how small she actually was. “I’m four.” she looked at her hands making sure she was holding up the right amount. Sometimes she screwed up. Her fingers were just so tiny it was hard to bend them correctly. “Yeah,” she smiled excitedly for doing it right the first time. “Four.” He looked at her curiously. “Four? That’s pretty young,” he added. “I guess,” she shrugged. “But I’m turning five next week!” Dick chuckled at her on and off going excitement. “I guess we’ll have to celebrate then huh?” she looked at him. “Really? I’ve never had a birthday party before!” Y/n felt kinda weird. I mean, it was common for her to feel excitement but definitely not this much. “Then it’s gonna have to be huge in that case.” She tried to hold the bounce in her step after he said that.

“Who are you talking to Grayson?” An almost harsh voice said. It was coming from Y/n’s right. She leaned forward to try and see past Dick. A boy who looked around 10-13 was standing in front of an open door which Y/n assumed was his room. 

“How are you Dami. Awwww, I found a quick nickname for youuu~” Dick says in a baby voice and pinches the boy’s cheeks. “Don’t touch me you filthy hag.” He shouts and swats his hands away, but Dick didn’t seem to take any offense to it. “This is Y/n, she’s probably gonna be living with us from now on so treat her like your little sister okay?” Was he babying him? Y/n couldn’t really tell. 

“What do you mean she’s going to be living with us?” The boy’s voice cuts her from her thoughts. “Where the hell did you even get her? Off the streets, I’m assuming.” He talked in almost a proper manner but definitely not a proper tone. “Actually yeah, she’s an orphan like the rest of us,” Dick grabs Y/n’s hand and pulls her gently to his side so Damian can see her better. I mean, she tried her best to stay clean but it was kinda hard when you don’t really have anywhere to live. Damian scoffed, “I’m the only one with actual Wayne blood.” 

Dick patted his head, “Well it was nice running into you little bro but now we gotta leave.” He started walking, still holding the toddler's hand. Y/n waved at the boy even though she was sure he didn’t like her very much. Damian just stared back at her. He would rather die than admit this, but a tiny part of him wanted to pat her head. “Tch, whatever,” he mumbled and walked back into his room. 

Dick was quiet for a moment. “Wait, you live with Bruce Wayne? That’s a bit random,” Y/n says. “Well...Uh, it’s complicated.” He just realized he pretty much told a child his secret identity and probably everyone else's by bringing her inside. Her brows furrowed but tried to hide her confusion. 

There were sudden shouts coming from what seemed to be a kitchen of some sort. “Great, now look what you’ve done!” “I didn’t do anything, this was your fault, Drake!” “Yeah right, you’re just so angsty you just had to push me huh?” “Not my fault you’re so fucking clumsy.” Dick covered Y/n’s ears quickly. “You bumped into me.” “Keep telling yourself that.” The taller one says. “What do you want Dick?” The other one says harshly, now aware of his presence, and was definitely annoyed. His eyes widen when he sees the small girl whose face was being slightly squashed because of Dick’s hands. He removed them after both of them seemed to be more confused than calm. “What the hell is that?” Jason blurts. “It’s a child dumbass.” “I know that shithead, why is she here?” Jason retorts.  “Well right now I’m wishing she wasn’t so she wouldn’t have to listen to you two fight like an old married couple.” He says sassily. “Answer the damn question, Grayson,” Jason growls. “Alright alright, chill. She is here because I brought her here.” “I’m going to murder you.” He sighed, annoyed. Dick rolled his eyes. “She’s an orphan and you know the orphanage kinda broke or something so here she is I guess,” he says, finally giving a complete answer. Not gonna lie, she was honestly kinda scared and probably a little shy. Dick felt his arm being tugged and looked down to see Y/n hiding behind it but her eyes were still peeking out. “Now look what you did, you scared her,” Tim says to Jason. “What do you mean I scared her. We wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you.” “Oh my god, I’m not gonna even try anymore.” “So now you want to acknowledge what you did.” “I swear to god I am going to pour my burning coffee all over you.” 

Dick sighed and used his other hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “This one is Jason,” Dick says to Y/n, pointing at the taller one. “This one is-” “A dumbass, this one is a dumbass.” Jason finished for Dick, glaring at the shorter one. “This one is Tim.” He says again, pointing to the shorter one. “I hate you. I have decided to pour the coffee and no one is stopping me.” Tim says. “Try me bitch.” Y/n could tell Dick was losing his patience. “Can you stop with the freaking swear words!” Dick shouts suddenly. “Well sooorry Mr. I can’t hear the word ‘fuck’ or I’ll throw holy water on you.” Tim rolled his eyes at Jason’s response. 

“Well I don’t know if you were paying attention or not, but there’s a small child, who doesn’t look older than 6, in the same room as us right now and I don’t think she should be listening to you cuss out profanities because you think you’re emo or something.” Timothy sassed slightly and Jason grumbled something under his breath. 

“We’re going now but have fun with whatever...this is,” Dick says motioning to the mess. Y/n waved behind Dicks arm, still a bit shy. Dick grabs Y/n’s hand again and walks off. “Oh yeah, you wanna go?” she could hear Jason shout in the distance, probably at something Time had said. 

Dick looked a bit annoyed with what just happened. “Mister Dick,” he looked at her. “What does dumbass mean?” (Listen I know I said she was smart but I don’t care at this point) His eyes widened. “It’s uh-It’s a meaner way of saying stupid butt.” Her brows furrowed. “Why would someone call something like that? It’s not a very good insult.” he shrugged. “Good question however I do not know the answer.” 

Dick opens a door to reveal a pretty normal study/office other than it was gigantic. He looks at Y/n and sighs. “I’m going to have to have to cover your eyes.” She nods and puts her hands over her eyes, turning around in the process. There was a loud but weird noise, almost like gears moving or something. “Alright, come on.” She turns around and removes her hands. Her small e/c orbs widen. There was a big gray elevator thingy in place of where the wide bookshelves should have been. She walked in slowly, being cautious. 

“It’s okay, I promise. It’s actually really cool.” She looked back up at Dick and nodded slowly.

 This family 100 percent confused her. They were weird. Really weird.

 Maybe she should have stayed outside.   

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

Sorry it was really short, I still hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. I’m probably going to end it here unless people start wanting a part three. I’ll try to start posting more once I get ideas on what to write. Hope you all have a fabulous dayyyy  

[dakarimainink]

Story Time

WARNING: fluff, cute, angst, awkward, alcohol, stranger meets stranger

Character: Pedro Pascal

Wordcount: 1.8K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by me! 😊

Oh god, please let me know what you think of this. The way of telling it is new to me, but I kind of liked the flow of it. Keep in mind this is told in a vocal language as if I actually tell it to you. Let me know if you liked it or not, any feedback on this is very much welcome.

Okay, let me tell you about the first time I met Pedro Pascal. This was (I believe) right before shooting of GOT season 4. I was, at the time, not a huge TV or movie person, except I actually did watch GOT because it was so huge and my friends kinda got me in to it. And I also watched Breaking Bad, because let’s face it, it’s a brilliant series. Anyways, here is the story of my embarrassing first meeting with Pedro Pascal.

It was a late night in New York. I had been to a comedy club with some friends of mine; laughing our asses off and drinking. Not gonna lie, I don’t remember the comedian (sorry), but I do remember he wore the cleanest pair of white Converse shoes I’ve ever seen on a person. I don't know why I remember that, but yeah.

Now, I had told my friends I would walk home, as I only lived a few blocks down the road. They had insisted on me taking a taxi with them, but I refused. Honestly, I didn't want to waste money on it and I had walked home alone before. Being the stubborn woman I was, they gave up and let me walk. Besides, I sober faster up and avoid a hangover with some fresh air before bed (or at least as fresh air one can get in NYC).

Walking home, I stumbled a little on the slightly uneven sidewalk.

Now let me point out that I am not drunk. I am however tipsy, but not so gone that I am not aware of my surroundings. If someone was to walk up to me, I could easily punch them and run off, if necessary. But I would run with a slight tilt, if you know what I mean. Not that I actually want to punch someone, because I am honestly scared of hurting anyone (raise your hand if you have childhood trauma), but I will for survival.

Anyways. Walking home, the nightlife was booming. I think it was about nine in the evening, so the streets were littered with people either already drunk or going to the club getting drunk. Basically a normal Saturday evening. I did not envy the people bending over a bush, begging for nothing to splash back onto them as they puked their guts out, just to go back into the club and start the process all over again.

Being a woman walking alone that late, in NYC anywhere, you can already imagine the disgusting men catcalling me, throwing comments thinking I would rush to them and beg them to take me then and there.

It honestly baffles me how men actually think those kinds of things work, because newsflash, it doesn't. It's literally disgusting and I have to force myself to not gag and throw up.

So walking home, ignoring the nauseating comments, I passed by the same buildings, stores, clubs and restaurants I had done probably a million times before. I did consider stopping by my favourite burger shop Greasy Joe’s (classic name, am I rite?), but knew my body rather wanted to crash down in bed.

As I was just about two blocks away from my home, I managed to trip on my own feet. 

Now I am not a person who often trip over or stumble at all, but for some godforsaken reason, my feet decided that, right outside - what I would call an exclusive restaurant - (mostly because it was too expensive for mere mortals to eat there) I fell to my knees, luckily embracing myself on my hands.

For a moment I froze, my body trying to assess what happened and what the damage was. I remember it felt like needles prickling into the palms of my hands and on my knees. I was just begging I didn’t ruin my jeans as I had recently purchased them. (Jeans are seriously expensive, especially when you are gifted with thighs of a goddess, ready to crush anything coming in-between)

I also remember it felt like the whole world went silent for a moment, as if my hearing was not important as my brain was trying hard to get an overview of my own state.

I heard a male mumble and then a hand appearing in front of my face. Then a little more mumbling until I finally caught some words. “... Help you up.” I instinctively grabbed the hand, supporting myself as it pulled me up.

And again, my legs wanted to be difficult tonight for some reason, so of course my knees gave in - not sure if it was because of the fall or if I just truly had bad fortune that night, or perhaps that I was in fact, more than just tipsy - and I tumbled forward and smacked my head onto what I didn’t realise at first, was a human chest.

I placed my hands onto the torso and carefully pushed back awkwardly. I stared at my hands as I realised what I was pushing against and winced and snapped my hands away from the person in front of me.

I felt my ears and cheeks burn, I mean like, seriously burn so badly it felt like a second degree burn. I looked up to - what I quickly realised was - a man’s face and he seemed to be a bit embarrassed as well, as he was also coloured in his cheeks (definitely not as bad as mine though)

I didn’t recognise him at all, but you can already guess who the person was (Yup, Pedro himself).

What really caught me off guard was his eyes. They were so dark I could actually see my reflection in them. There was also a spark in them due to the yellow lights emitting from the restaurant he had apparently just exited.

We were both kind of frozen and embarrassed and my brain was not going to help me even form a single “thank you” and or “sorry”. Luckily, his brain was working better than mine, so he was the one to speak up first.

“That was quite the fall, are you alright?” He actually seemed worry for my little tumble. I hadn’t even hit my head and he looked down upon me as if I was a hurt child.

I said of course I was fine, I wasn’t really hurt and that I was just on my way home. He asked if I needed a taxi, but of course I didn’t need that, I was just two blocks away from my home, so I politely refused.

He asked if he could escort me the rest of the way, but I told him no, because he was a stranger, but not only a stranger, but a male stranger. He really didn’t want me to walk home alone, but he understood my point of view. He insisted on calling for a taxi, but I told him it would be a waste, as it would probably take longer for the taxi to arrive than me just walking straight home.

As I explained this, I was already kind of backing away from him and towards home. He didn’t push it any further, but I swear I could feel him watch me as I continued to walk away.

However, two doors down, was one of the hottest nightclubs in NYC. Mostly higher middle-class and lower high-class would go there. Especially “kids” with their parents credit cards would go there frequently. (Now I use the word kid, even though they are probably in their early twenties and I am in my mid twenties, but to me, kids because of their behaviour)

As I passed, a self entitled kid with too much alcohol and self esteem approached me - I could smell the alcohol before he reached me - and stopped me in my tracks. I fisted my hands as he tried to push himself onto me, which was quite disgusting by the way. His perfume were oozing off him, and that mixed with the alcohol was making me gag.

He kept asking for my name, if I was down for a good time, if he could buy me a drink, if I wanted to come into the club with him, if he could have my number, if I wanted to go home with him and so on and so forth. I gently pushed him away, which seemed to set something off in him and he began spitting rude comments. Mostly stuff I had heard before come out of a rejected man’s mouth; so nothing new.

He began walking quite widely and wobbly towards me, as if he wanted to pick a fight me. However, half way towards me, he suddenly stopped and I noticed a presence next to me.

You guessed it, it was Pedro again.

He asked the man to stop and waved over the security guard who somehow missed the loud kid.

As soon as the kid was forced away by the guard, I thanked him once more. He turned to walk away, but I called for him (I didn’t know his name, so I casually just said “Hey!”) He turned around and I told him he could walk me home if the offer still stood.

I remember a smile crossed his lips as I told him and he jogged over to me before we strolled towards my block.

As we began our walk, he held out his hand to me and introduced himself and I shook it and told him my first name as well. Now, instead of talking about our jobs or family or whatever, we actually started talking about African animals, more specifically Elephants as we both considered them our favourite animal. We also had a friendly feud about coffee or tea, as I was (and still am) a tea drinker and he was a coffee drinker.

We were in the middle of talking books when I suddenly realised we were standing outside the entrance to my apartment building.

I'm not gonna lie, I was actually feeling a bit disappointed by this, as I had enjoyed our brief walk and conversation. A small part of me wanted to invite him in, just so we could continue our chat. I felt such a friendly vibe from him and knew if I didn’t get to know him now, I would probably never get to.

I had to, unfortunately, decide to end the journey here and smiled while thanking him. What I didn’t realise was my body slowly tilting forward and before I knew it, we were hugging each other. I had no idea why, but I sure as hell didn’t regret it.

Let me tell you, I have never, ever ever since, had a better or warmer hug ever. I seriously mean it, if you ever get the chance to hug this man, do it, because not only will it make you warm and fuzzy, but it seriously made me happy. Like I could feel the weight of the world seep out of my body and a light just burn within me. I am not kidding.

So we said our goodbyes. I unlocked the entrance door, stepped inside and we gave each other one last glance before I walked up the stairs to my floor.

What I didn’t know then, was that I would meet Pedro Pascal again.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44​, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80​

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character.

Chapter Two: Tea and Confirmation

(Not my gif)

Summary: Spencer calls Bridgett in the middle of the night because he's having dark thoughts. She comes over to help him though it. Hair braiding and fluff ensues.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez

TW: Mentions of Tobias Hankel, mentions Spencer's addiction from season 2, morning w**d, fluff. I think that's all!

Word count: 2.7K

A.N.: This is season 5 Spencer! If you read my last chapter, thank you! I appreciate it so much. There are a few italicized sentences, those are Spencer's inside thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bridgett snaps her head up from her sleep at the sound of her phone ringing from her bedside table. She looks around to see her alarm clock only reading “3:27am.” It takes a few seconds before she registers that she wasn’t imagining the whole thing. She grabs the phone, laying her head back down on her pillow.

“Hello?” She mumbles, trying to go back to sleep at this point.

On the other end she can hear someone sniffling, a low sob coming from her receiver.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Spencer. I kn- know it’s e-ear-early, but I’m just…” His voice breaks completely, louder sobs erupting.

Bridgett sits up, turning her light on, looking for her shoes and coat, knowing she was going to be leaving for his apartment once she was off the phone with him regardless if he wanted her to or not.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?”

His deep breath sounding ragged.

“I’m hav-ing a hard time with these nightmares. And my headache won’t go away. I sound like a baby calling y-you over this, I’m sorry.”

Her heart hurt with how sad and worked up he was. His nightmares had been on and off for as long as she'd known him. They bonded over having similar nightmares when they started off at the BAU. He saw similar tells in her that he had too.

“No, don’t be sorry. I’ll be over in less than 15 minutes okay?”

“No, you don’t have to come ov-.”

Bridgett locks her door behind her, already walking down the hallway of her apartment complex.

“Too late. I’m already on my way. Less than 15.”

***

She parks her car across the street from his apartment, grabbing the drugstore bag from her passenger seat and the blanket from her trunk, hurrying to the warm building. It had been 5 years since she had moved from Texas to Virginia and she still wasn’t used to the cold winter time brought. She climbs the 4 flights of stairs up to Spencer’s apartment, knocking on his door once she got there.

When Spencer opened his door finally, his face was splotchy red, his under eyes were purple, his eyes bloodshot red. Before she walks in she wraps her arms around Spencer’s neck, bringing him in for a long hug. His arms wrap around her waist, letting her hold him while he tries to suppress his tears.

“It’s okay honey.” She coos in his ear, rocking him back and forth.

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about it.” He lets go of her, walking back into his apartment.

She follows after him to his couch, resting her hand on his knee.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Tobias.”

She shutters at his name. It was tough time when Spencer was on Dilaudid. Bridgett had only been apart of the team for a few months before the Hankel situation happened. She had seen a vial and syringe in his bag one night when he had asked Bridgett to grab something for him. Then it all made sense. When she confronted him about it a few days later, she brought it up gently, it wasn’t her first time dealing with someone she cared deeply about to be addicted to drugs. It ended in a screaming match between the two of them. They didn’t talk outside of work for almost 3 months. But one night Spencer came to her apartment, visibly going through a withdrawal and needed help. Of course she helped him and that’s when she learned he was seeking help for the addiction. Since then she’s “on call” so to speak to help him through his tough times.

“Have you been thinking about relapsing?”

Spencer stays quiet for a minute, deciding on whether or not he wanted to lie, but if he did lie he knew she would call him out on it. “Honestly, yeah I have thought about it. A few times actually. Tonight it was weighing heavily on my mind. That’s why I called you.”

“It’s good that you called me first.” She praises him, taking hold of his hand and holding it in hers.

Spencer smiles softly at her, looking down to his lap. He was supposed to be sad but he almost got lost in her eyes.

“Do you think the lack of sleep and being stressed out is part of the reason you have a headache right now?”

“Yeah, it could be.” Spencer nods, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch, looking up at the ceiling. Breathing in deeply for the first time that night without tears escaping his eyes.

Bridgett let’s go of his hands, grabbing the plastic bag she brought with her and takes out a box of the herbal sleepytime tea. Spencer rolls his head to the side, watching her take off to his kitchen.

He couldn’t believe that she drove to his place at almost 3:30 in the morning just to listen to him talk about his problems after he cried to her on the phone. And now she was making him tea. Now all he could focus on was that he really was falling in love with his best friend.

After a few minutes Bridgett came back with 2 mugs of tea, Spencer’s more full than her. She hands him the hot mug before taking a seat on the other side of him.

“You're always super patient with me.”

“Did you expect me to get through this by yourself? I care about you a lot and I want you to be okay.”

Spencer’s heart flutters, hiding his face with the mug by taking a drink. Bridgett yawns, putting her mug on the coffee table.

“You should get some sleep. I woke you up in the middle of the night.”

“No, I'm fine. I won’t go to bed until you go.”

Spencer smiles, grabbing the blanket Bridgett brought with her and throwing it over her lower half, Spencer taking the leftover.

As they enjoy the oldie mix that was playing in the back, Spencer begins humming along with the tune playing. Bridgett lays her legs across Spencer’s lap, making herself more comfortable. It takes everything in his power to not touch her legs.

Just a few hours ago he was contemplating relapsing, and an emotional mess. But now that Bridgett was here, talking to him, distracting him as best as she could, he felt different. Spencer had been developing feelings for Bridgett for a long time, but this was the first time that he's felt like this.

***

Bridgett stretches her body, feeling pressure on her thighs. She looks around at the unfamiliarity of the apartment at first, her brain taking a few seconds to register that she was at Spencer’s place, hence the wall of books across the couch. She rubs her eyes and looks down to see Spencer’s head resting on her outer thigh, his arms wrapped around one of her legs. She laughs slightly not moving to let Spencer finish his rest. As she was laying there she could hear soft snores coming from him. She can’t help but push his curls out of his face softly, playing with the long stands between her fingers. She took a few sections of his hair and parted it to start braiding it. Bridgett giggled, making sure Spencer didn’t wake up at her giving him a new hairstyle.

It had been almost 10 minutes and she knew she’d feel guilty for walking Spencer up from his sleep after the night he had but she needed to use the restroom, the tea catching up to her. She continued to rake through Spencer’s hair, calling his name softly. After 4 times Spencer begins to stir, his arms hugging her legs tightly before his eyes opened, he buries his face against her thing, thinking it was his pillow, but this was much more firm than his pillow. He snaps his head up quickly and realizing he was cuddling with Bridgett’s legs.

“Morning sleepyhead.”

Spencer looks up at her, his eyes still low with sleep and smiles softly.

“Hey, morning.” He unwinds his arms from around her leg, sitting up and handing her the blanket.

“Sorry I had to wake you, I needed to use the bathroom and you were kinda cuddling my leg.”

He lets out a small laugh, trying to look away from her to hide his smirk. She gets off the couch and walks off to the back of the apartment. It’s not until Spencer leans back on the couch that he realizes a problem. He was rock hard and has no idea why… well he knows why. He was inches away from using Bridgett’s ass as a pillow. He can’t even recall at what point he decided to lay his head on her. She had fallen asleep first, her leg randomly twitching every once and a while when he finally realized she was sleeping. He didn’t pass out too long after that, having enough courage to finally put his arm on her legs.

“Did you sleep okay?” Bridgett questions, bending down over the headrest of the couch.

“Yeah, no nightmares. You’re pretty comfortable.”

Idiot. Why would you say that?

Bridgett laughs.

“So don’t be mad at me, but I kinda braided some of your hair. You look pretty.”

Spencer touches the side of his hair, running his fingers over the braids. Bridgett laughs hysterically, dropping onto the couch next to him. He takes the blanket and covers his lap, trying to hide what was going on in his pants.

“I guess I need matching braids on the other side now right? I can’t go in public with one side of my hair done.”

Bridgett laughs even harder, her smile taking up her whole face, and the one dimple she had on the left side of her cheek was popping out.

God even her laugh is beautiful.

Yup, he was falling in love with his best friend.

“I got you. Your braids will be beautiful. But first, you need breakfast.”

“I need, or you need?”

He questions, turning his head to look at her, pracially scanning her face to commit to memory how beautiful Bridgett looked right now, her hair was a little messy, dark hair falling out of her bun that sat on top of her head, her skin was practically glowing.

“You need… I need… same thing. Do you have breakfast stuff or should I run to the store?”

She gets up off the couch, taking her hair out of its bun and shaking it out quickly, putting it right back up.

“Uhh... I... uhh, I have eggs and some bacon. Some veggies for the eggs.”

Bridgett doesn’t respond, but he can hear her rummaging through the refrigerator and cabinets to find all she needed. Spencer gets up, trying to adjust himself to make it look less obvious that he was basically ready to go. He walks to the kitchen, hiding his lower half behind the wall.

“Do you need any help? If not I was going to shower.”

“I’m good. But what about your braids? You’re going to take them out?” She teases, smiling at him.

“I’ll wash my hair that way you have a fresh head for you to braid my hair.” He says, trying to hide his smile. “I’ll be quick.”

Once Spencer gets into the bathroom he looks in the mirror, chuckling to himself once he sees 2 braids on the left side of his head.

The early morning hours was almost like a confirmation that he was for sure in love with his best friend. His heart had been sending him signals for months, but his brain wouldn’t listen. He was far too scared of rejection and the thought of losing her if she didn’t feel the same way about him. Yeah they slept together, but it was a one night thing. From what Spencer understood from Derek, sleeping with someone doesn’t always mean love is a prerequisite.

***

Spencer talked about a book he had finished reading the night before, throughout the whole breakfast time. Bridgett listened, trying to understand what he was talking about but it was way too far out of her mental wheelhouse to understand what he was talking about but she smiled and nodded, laughed if he laughed because Bridgett knew that the worries he had the night before seemed so much smaller now.

Bridgett sat on the couch while Spencer sat on the floor, keeping her promise and braiding his hair. She was excited and a little shocked that he kept his word and let her do it.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Technically you just did.”

Bridgett rolls her eyes sarcastically, taking the comb in her hand and gently hitting his shoulder with it.

“I’m asking anyway, smarty pants. So out of curiosity, why don’t you date? Or do you and just not tell us?”

Spencer takes a minute to think about her question, shrugging after a few seconds.

“No, I'm not hiding anyone from you guys. I just haven’t found that one girl that I find common interests with and it’s hard finding someone that understands me; my mind and how it works, the stuff I went through as a kid and why it made me the way I am. And you know, the whole schizophrenia being genetic thing isn’t exactly something women look for in a man so that’s just another thing added to the con list. And you get it, it’s hard to devote your time to someone working with the Bureau. We’re constantly gone. It’s hard getting attached to someone while you’re across the country for days, maybe weeks.”

Bridgett nods her head, taking the hair elastic and wrapping it around the end of the braid.

“Do you think you’ll find that person? Or are you content with just being you?”

“Everyone hopes they find their ‘person’, eventually. It’s human nature to want to find the person you love. But of course I want to. I would love a sense of normalcy at some point in my life. I wasn’t ever ‘normal��� growing up so yeah, I would love a wife, kids one day, all of that. Do you? Do you think about any of that?” Spencer asks.

“Oh definitely. I’ve known my whole life what I’ve wanted when I became an adult. And as I got older I knew the type of parent and wife I wanted to be. I wanted to be different from my parents both ways. I never want to make my kids feel the way I felt growing up, not important, an inconvenience, a failure. And I don’t want the type of relationship my parents have. You know about the shit I saw and I would never want to put up with that. I want to be with someone because I love them. Not because I got pregnant and needed to appease my parents.”

“I know you’ll get all of that one day.”

Bridgett beams at Spencer’s words. “I know you’ll get your ‘normal’ life, Spence. And I think you’d make a great husband and dad.”

Spencer’s whole heart fluttered at her words, wishing he wasn’t such a wimp to tell her how he felt about her right then and there. But he knew he would never do it. Not now.

“Well thanks.”

Well thanks? Compliment her back, you coward.

“I need to get going. I need to shower and I told myself I would clean my apartment this weekend. I’ve been putting that off for weeks. I’m about to not have any clothes to wear to work on Monday if I don’t do laundry.”

Do. Not. Think. About. Bridgett. Without. Clothes. Spencer. No!

“Okay, I’ll walk you out to your car.”

They walk out to Bridgett’s car, Spencer feeling a little sad that spending time with her was over even though he was going to see her Monday morning.

“Thanks for coming and taking my mind off things. And not hating me for waking you up at 3am.”

She smiles, pulling Spencer in for a hug. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

“You’re welcome, babe. I’m always here for you. Even at 3:30 in the morning. Get some sleep.”

It took everything in him to not just grab her face and kiss her right in the middle of the street. The fact that she called him “babe” so effortlessly made him lovingly ache for her.

[magpiemorality]

Moceit pt 2, A Kiss With A Twist

This is the sequel to THIS oneshot that was written for @croftersgamer, make sure to read that first! Since the end of that first part Patton has indulged in a spot of deception on a semi-regular basis, as I wrote in the replies on the first part. It begins small but spirals quickly... 

First | AO3

***

“Morality, I ca-” Deceit is frazzled and dishevelled when he pops up in Patton’s room, but he barely gets a word out before the side in question pulls him in by his cape and kisses him enthusiastically. When they surface for air, Deceit is panting softly and Patton is grinning like the cat who got the cream, eyes glinting with an a fervent intensity. He may or may not be obsessed, or at the very least addicted. Deceit is only slightly concerned. 

“You’re late, I told Logan that lie almost two minutes ago,” Patton pouts, stroking the wrinkles out where he’d gripped the black fabric. Deceit pushes away from him to pace, eyes wild. 

“Look, we can’t keep doing this! I’m- I have other things to do than show up wherever you want for a snog, Morality! I can’t just be at your beck and call night and day- the other day I had to cut short a very important discussion with Thomas about changing his performers CV and now-” He groans, taking his hat and gloves off to run his hands through his wavy hair and collapse into Patton’s comfortable armchair out of sheer exhaustion. “You’re insatiable. I regret ever giving you this power, I swear to Thomas.” 

Patton slips off the bed with a gentle smile, settling over Deceit’s lap and cupping his face. “Now who’s the liar?” He murmurs, bending to steal yet another kiss, and their total has to be somewhere in the hundreds by now, maybe even past the thousand mark. 

Annoyingly he’s right. Deceit only came up with the kissing idea to push Patton’s buttons in the first place and it had spectacularly backfired and also worked out wonderfully for them both. Unfortunately, there were a few other issues that had arisen as a consequence. 

“Wait, I was definitely trying to make a point, stop distracting me,” Deceit grumbles, his hands falling to Patton’s waist to support his weight. “Something about- oh right about the lying.” 

“What about it?” Patton asks, playing with the clasps of Deceit’s cape. 

It’s very distracting, like everything about Patton. But Deceit soldiers on gamely. “Something’s changed. You’re- you’re summoning me even when you haven’t lied. I can’t leave you when we’re done. I don’t think it’s just the silly little lies you’re telling by keeping us- this- a secret that’s drawing me in anymore.” 

Patton stills and blinks at him. They blink at each other. And then Patton snorts and has to cover his hand to stifle his laughter. Deceit is very confused. 

Luckily Patton takes pity on him and kisses the tip of his grumpily wrinkled nose. “Oh dear, you’re making it sound like a love story. But this is... I’m having a lot of fun and I can stop if you like, but that’s all!” 

Ah, and there goes that same feeling again. Pinging around his chest and head. Deceit sits up sharply, catching Patton just before he can topple over backwards, and their chests are suddenly pressed close together and he can see every faint freckle on Patton’s cheeks. “I felt it. When you said that. It wasn’t a lie, well it was but it was more than that- you’re lying to yourself.” 

The panic sets in in Patton’s eyes, and he stumbles up onto his feet and back away from the other side, creating some distance. “Now that’s definitely not true.” 

“But it is! You’re repressing, Morality, you’re telling yourself-” Deceit stares at him as things click together in his mind, forming a very odd but appealing picture. “You like me. You actually like me!” 

“No! You’re a dark side, you’re bad and not good for Thomas and-”

“And you don’t really believe that anymore. And you like me and it’s confusing you and, oh Patton, did you even realise you were making me hide that from you every time you brought me here? That’s...” 

Patton is close to tears. “It’s not true it’s not!” He pleads, but when Deceit opens his arms he stumbles in without a single moment of hesitation, trembling against his chest. “Everything is so different now,” Patton whimpers, soaking up the warm scent of Truth woven into Deceit’s clothes and skin. “I don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore. It used to be so clear.”

“That’s... a problem for a different time, I think. But you should know that it’s not been so easy for any of us, either.” He holds Patton gently, feeling him curl to the shape of his own body. “But this that we’re doing, if you’re doing it to hide the truth from yourself? That’s not right no matter how you see things. I guess I’m to blame too, huh, for enabling you this whole time?” 

Patton makes a soft, wounded noise, but doesn’t disagree and it makes Deceit’s heart sink. “Gosh. Guess I’m losing my touch if I was so easily distracted by kisses. By your kisses...” He has to let go and leaves Patton in the centre of the bedroom while he retreats back to the chair, picking up his hat to turn round and round in his hands. “Um, so, I think it’s best we have a bit of a break.”

The resulting wave of emotion is followed so swiftly by the overpowering stink of repression that Deceit sways in the chair. Patton’s expression is murderous and then carefully neutral in the space of a heartbeat, but by the wary pinch around his eyes it’s clear he knows he’s been caught. And dammit but Deceit is getting pissed off now. Patton was supposed to be the honest one out of the two of them, and he was supposed to keep things simple, but of course where Patton and emotions are concerned things are anything but simple for long. 

He stands to leave. It’s time. 

“It’s been wonderful, truly wonderful, but I’ll go now. I’m sorry it has to end like this but I’m just not going to do your dirty work anymore!” The hat and gloves go back on and that same feeling of needing to stay don’t leave him stay stay stay comes back full force as he gets to the door. When he glances back Patton is already across the room and pushing him back against the wood to kiss him, full of emotions that are finally, gloriously shared, instead of discarded. Deceit can literally taste the difference. 

They stand there and kiss for what feels like an age, fiercely blazing fire cooling to a soft, gentle glow of embers. 

“Wow,” Deceit whispers, making Patton giggle quietly, a beautiful musical sound that he wants to capture and keep in a jar to cherish forever. “So that was... honest kissing. Who knew it was so much better?” They share a smile, before Patton’s turns apologetic. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it to myself. I was just so scared by all the changes and at least I could control this and kinda... experiment with not being so good, for a change. And it was kinda sucky, really.

“I do like you. You’re the most surprising thing in my life and I mean that in such a good way. You work hard, and you’re caring and loyal and you’re pretty darn good too, you know.

“That’s not a bribe to get you to forgive me, I swear! But, I like you. I would really like to kiss you without an excuse, sometime. Maybe even when other people can see, in fact. What do you say?” With an achingly hopeful smile, Patton gazes at Deceit. 

Deceit just smiles back. “Honestly, that sounds great.” 

Patton appreciates the pun. He proceeds to show Deceit exactly how much. 

(It only gets better from there)

They do have one other little scare when Deceit finally goes to leave, only to find that the same powerful impulse to stay is still going strong, but calamity is avoided when Patton suggests that maybe, just maybe, some of it is actually just Deceit’s own heart joining the party? 

He feels a little bit silly for not realising sooner, but Patton seems so pleased by the proof of Deceit’s equally strong feelings for him that well; maybe he doesn’t actually have to leave for a while longer. The urge in his chest certainly seems to agree...

--

Next

[creativeskullcreations]

HTaHHQ episode 4: Unarmed part 2

And thus Stacy is now a little bit more used to all the Puppets, though she's not terribly happy at Scout right now. Hopefully they can work through it, but we'll have to see.

Luckily, Stacy only blacked out for a few seconds before her senses returned. There was a lot of yelling involved, which was torture on her pounding head, but, luckily, she didn't seem to have landed on anyone. She sat up with a groan, and everyone was instantly on her. Danny buried his face in her shirt with a loud sob(gross), and the Puppets clung to them both while yelling questions.

"Are you okay?!" Canon clung to her hair, swinging in front of her face. Stacy carefully grabbed the Puppet and set her down, then patted Danny's head.

"I'm fine." She assured them quietly. "Just slipped, no big deal." She cleared her throat. "Did that loads of time at the ballet studio. Me, and several others." That was a lie, she'd never fallen that hard before. "Let's just go back to the movie..."

Danny nodded and finally stopped clinging to his sister. She went to stand up, but almost fell again when her right arm didn't move to support her weight. "Oh, I don't think arms are supposed to bend like that..." Bonzai muttered, and Stacy felt her heart stop when she looked to see what he meant.

The arm was twisted at the elbow, and when Stacy tried to move it there was instead a sickeningly grinding sound as it stayed still. She could still move the hand, however, but that was useless with the rest of her arm unusable.

"... Mary's going to kill me." She whispered. panic rising. They did not have the money for this. At all. She tried again to move the joint, but found it just as stuck as it was a few seconds ago.

She had no idea what to do. Should she try and wench it back into place? Leave it and hope Mary didn't notice? No that was insane, she couldn't go without the use of one arm for the next three months. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the wrist and prepared to pull.

"Wait!" Canon grabbed her hand. "You shouldn't do that! You could break it more."

"Well what's your suggestion, then? Because if Mary or Dad find out about this, I am so dead!" She hissed out, casting a glance at Danny. Luckily, he didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Well... " She hesitated briefly, swallowing down the apprehension of the suggestion. "Riley's good at this sort of thing-"

"No." The reply was harsh and quick.

"Stacy, you have to." The blue haired Puppet pointed at her mangled elbow. "You can't fix that by yourself."

"Watch me." She attempted to tug, and was rewarded with nothing. The next few pulls were met with the same, and she realized with dawning horror that she had to tell someone. Canon sighed again as she realized what was happening.

"Stacy, we are going to Riley. Right now."

"No, I can fi-OWOWOWOW! Stop that!" She grabbed at the Puppet now on her head, pulling her hair. Canon dodged her weak attempts, leaning down into her view.

"You will go to Riley or I will go get Riley." She told the girl, who glared back, but even she knew she was defeated.

"Fine." She ground out, standing up. Danny stood with her, the other Puppets gathered in his arms. Except for Scout, who Jumped onto Stacy's shoulder with Canon.

"It's okay." The younger Puppet tried to quietly assure her as the group made the trip to Riley's room. "Riley's really nice, I promise."

Stacy ignored her, left hand digging into her sleeve as she approached the door to her possible doom. She stopped just before the door, in a moment that went on forever as she stared, unblinking, into space.

"Nope." She turned on her heel, fully intending on heading back to the playroom, but a loud thunk behind her made her stop. She turned just in time to see Scout sliding down the door, having launched herself at it. Stacy didn't even have time to murderously glare at the Puppet before it opened to reveal Riley in full lab gear, goggles down and mask up.

She pushed the goggles up, spotting Scout almost immediately. "I don't have the time to babysit. Tell me now, what is it?"

Scout didn't even hesitate before she pointed to Stacy. "Stacy broke her robot arm and needs help fixing it!" She informed the scientist. Riley looked up at the girl, who had angled away to try and hide her arm. It failed, though, as the Puppet could still see how obviously twisted it was.

"Hmm, I see." She turned and gestured. "Follow me." It took Stacy a second, but, reluctantly, she did as she was told. Only for Riley to suddenly pluck Canon from her head and hand her to Danny before shooing him and the Hand Puppets away. "Not you, I'm afraid. Why don't you go back and play. This is something we need to do alone, and we'll come get you when we're done." And then she closed the door, shutting them out.

Stacy watched this with no small amount of fear, wishing she could speak up to say "No, stop, I want them in here." She didn't, though, and instead stood silently as she'd always done. She jumped slightly when Riley cleared her throat, startled out of her thoughts.

"Off with the shirt so that I can take a look." The rhymes were getting looser, but Stacy wisely didn't point that out and instead took off her shirt, leaving her with just a plain pink tank top instead. She set it aside on the table and offered up her arm, which Riley grabbed to look at.

"Hmm, I see what happened, and it's an easy fix. Just come with and I'll, uh-" She had tried to lead Stacy to a work table, only for the arm to fall limply in her hands. Looking back, she saw the girl standing there almost too innocently, right arm now just a stump with a metal cap on it. "Clever." Was all Riley said about it, before heading to the work table.

Stacy followed, curious to how the Puppet would fix the arm. She kept her distance, but inched closer when she realized Riley wasn't paying attention to her. She may not like the Puppet, but she did want to see her fix the arm.

It was delicate work, however, as she'd twisted the elbow joint quite badly when she'd fell. It involved taking the arm apart at the elbow, so Riley could untwist everything. Gently, she pushed wires back where they belonged, making sure the joint itself wasn't cracked or shattered.

"Luckily, the damage isn't so great that I'm unable to repair." She told the girl. "But how this happened, you need to share."

"Hmm." A pause, because honestly it was kinda embarrassing. "... I was showing the others a dance and slipped..." She finally mumbled, twisting the hem of her tank top in her hand. "... Landed on the robot arm..." She was startled when Riley suddenly grabbed her stump, inspecting the area around the connector.

"Any damage to the flesh of your arm would be alarming." She told Stacy seriously as she examined it. "Lucky for you, there's no evidence of even a bruise forming."

"Okay..." She yanked her stump out of the Puppet's hands and rubbed at it to try and scrub the feeling of her rubbery gloves away. She wanted to scratch, but knew by now that would just cause her to bleed.

If Riley thought that was an odd reaction, she didn't give any indication of it and instead turned back to fixing up the prosthetic. This time, however, she talked as she worked, telling Stacy about the different parts she was working on and how they fit together. And she did it all in rhyme, which even Stacy had to admit was impressive, since she was coming up with all of it on the fly.

After some time, though, she finally finished and had put everything back together. She bent and unbent the elbow a few times to make sure things were working as intended, then presented it to Stacy. The girl grabbed it and, though she didn't explain it verbally, she did make sure Riley could see how she hooked it into the connector. It was fairly simple, but the Puppet still watched her do it with intense interest.

Pulling her long sleeved shirt back on, Stacy wondered how she could make it up to the scientist. Her eye caught the box of beakers, seemingly untouched since yesterday. She stared at it, mind turning over the consequences of each option before her. Taking a deep breath and willing her voice to be steady, she spoke up.

"I heard Nick talking about something yesterday." She was pleased with how casual she managed to sound, even as her heartbeat picked up.

"Oh?" Riley turned around, giving the girl her full attention and making her even more nervous. "What did he say?"

"He was talking about how he replaced the beakers you used on the show with ones made of sugar glass. As payback because you took his paint." She tried to keep from rambling.

Casting a suspicious look, Riley wheeled over and grabbed the box, taking out one of the beakers to inspect it against the light. Stacy could see it in her eyes when she realized she was telling the truth.

Expression turning briefly murderous before going blank, the Handeeman put the beaker back into the box and wheeled out of the room. Stacy following close behind, curious as to what she would do. Right outside, she found the others, and quickly indicated that they should all follow Riley, who was waiting for them in the elevator.

The ride down was tense and silent, everyone able to feel the anger radiating off of the scientist. Not even Bonzai tried to lighten the mood with a quick quip, too frightened of Riley's dark demeanor to even make the attempt.

Daniel suppressed a yawn as his pen lightly tapped against his notebook. Nick stood at the head of the table, trying to explain his changes to the script. Daniel was pretty sure he hadn't been thinking with those changes, considering he didn't seem to have an explanation for half of them.

He was pretty sure this meeting would end with all changes reverted. Just like every other time this had happened. Daniel was pretty sure Nick only made changes to be a nuisance and ruin everybody else's weekend. Still, he diligently took notes on the answers Nick did give, and hoped Mortimer would call the meeting done soon.

What neither he or anyone else knew, was that soon the meeting would be about something else entirely. Quietly, without anyone taking notice, the doorknob turned and the door was pushed open ever so slightly. A moment later, the door was slammed open, hitting against the wall hard enough to leave a dent.

"Nicholas Nack!" Riley shrieked as she burst into the room. "How dare you!" And then she threw one of the beakers at the artist, making everyone scream and yell.  Beyond her, in the doorway, Stacy, Danny, and the Handpuppets could be seen, watching the whole thing go down.

"Riley!" Mortimer yelled as the humans dove beneath the table. That didn't stop her, as she began to chase Nick around the room, throwing the beakers at him.

"I'll show you to steal my stuff!" She shrieked as sugar glass broke against the walls. Daisy pulled one of the writers away as they barreled past, and she wondered just what was happening this time.

"How did you find out?!" He dodged another attempt, and the kids ducked back from the doorway as the beaker flew past and shattered against the wall. Danny was laughing, and the Hand Puppets were cheering Riley on, though they were all drowned out by the yelling inside the room. Stacy just watched, recalling a similar scene from her childhood.

When she was young, her mother liked to put on old tapes of Mortimer's Handeemen, and there was skit just like this, also featuring Riley and Nick. Back then the skit had really upset her, even with her mom assuring her it wasn't real and was just pretend. It hadn't helped and all subsequent viewings of the tape had them fast forwarding through the skit.

Watching Riley now, in the present, launch herself off of her stand and across the room at Nick, Stacy was pretty sure they weren't pretending now. Luckily, she was saved from trying to figure out what to do when Daisy finally spotted them and rushed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"I'll bet you kids are hungry!" She said with fake cheer. "Why don't we go on down to the cafeteria, and I'll get you kids something to eat."

"But I wanna watch Riley kill Nick!" Bit protested, even as Daisy and Stacy worked to herd them away.

"Nope! Y'all don't get to see that today!" She hurried them along. "But don't worry, they'll be fine. This just... it happens sometimes. Don't worry." She gave a soft sigh, and Stacy felt the guilt of what she started build in her stomach.

'Better now than later I guess.' She tried to reassure herself. 'At least nobody knows that I helped with the prank. Except for Nick and Danny. I hope they don't tell anyone.'

[imma-potatoo]

Blond Janus Darkside Headcanons

I noticed how I haven't written down any info on the dark sides (Wrath, Apathy, Depression, Remus and pre-AA Virgil). More will be added.

Masterpost

Taglist:

@mother-snake, @writerstrashbin, @psychedelicships, @cryptidwriterdotcom (ask to be removed or added)

Wrath

Leader of the dark sides

Can induce a blind rage

When the rage is happening the recipient cannot control what they say or do and react simply on their first thought

The rage becomes stronger the more angry the person becomes

Wrath can't bring someone out of the rage. He can induce it but the person has to come out of it themselves

He has almost no control of Apathy because of that due to his lack of emotion

Likes to wear a partial suit. Finds that the coat is restricting and makes more complex movements hard

Still owns the coat. Just never wears it.

Symbol is tattooed on his left wrist

Orange and black color scheme. Like this:

Immediate reaction to almost anything is to yell.

Loves huge parties

If he's going to make a point, he makes it loud and clear. Often in front of other people so they can see what happens if you step out of line

Rules the dark sides more like a dictatorship then a family or of equel footing

Believes that they have to bend Thomas to their will and that the light sides are complete fools who will only destroy Thomas life

Wants Thomas to take what he wants and not to worry about who he leaves behind

If Thomas has to kill a politician to get what he wants? Sure go ahead. As long as he gets what he wants

When angry, Wrath is ruthless

He'll take your deepest fear and taunt you with it until you snap under the strain and comply to his every whim

He refuses to take no for an answer

Because of his hatred for the lights; he takes it out on Janus

He's big on public humiliation

If Janus would step out of line; well, he doesn't need all of those scales does he? He's sure Apathy would love to see the reactions if you rip some off

To aid in the control of the others; Wrath has complete control over the food supply

When the others are listening and followings orders. Good, they get to eat properly

When they don't? Your options are moldy bread or cheese that has been out in the open for about a month.

Him and Apathy eat like kings while the others decide between food poisoning and starvation

Likes to take words of affection and make them have a negative meaning (ex: the word Love.) after beating the hell out of someone, he would make them look directly in his eyes and says that he loves them... And he makes them say it back

He hates it when the others cry

Says that they're doing it for attention and that they should shut the fuck up

Apathy

Second in command

Can nullify peoples emotions. Leaving them feeling like an empty shell. The effects normally break after an hour

If Apathy knows your name he can control you like a puppet

White and black outfit. White shirt with black suspenders and pants.

Doesn't show where he keeps his symbol (its on his right ankle, its more like a tattoo then a patch)

Has a deep obsession with fire

Owns a zippo (a lighter that flips open)

Often feels empty due to his function. The fire makes him feel warm, feel more human (as human as the sides can be anyway)

Doesn't quite understand emotion. He understands the basics of it (cry = sad, laugh = hqppy, yell = angry.) but the more complex reactions confuse the hell out of him. Crying out of happiness is one of the things he will never understand.

Because of his lack of understanding of emotions; Apathy tries to understand through making others feel said emotions

Wants to know how someone would react when you break a precious item? Time to find a couple photos.

Will someone scream when you waterboard them? Hm well, only one way to test that.

Opinions change like a flip of a switch

One day he'll help you make dinner with a plastered on smile. The next he'll knock you out and burn you with his lighter with that same smile

Has only properly laughed twice

The first time was when Thomas accidentally laughed at someones funeral (he couldn't cope that the person was gone and his default reaction was to laugh)

The second was after the three of them (wrath, depression and him) shut off the heating to Janus' room and locked him inside

In order to understand things he doesn't know; he does experiments

He's not allowed to experiment on Wrath and Depression has no fun reactions. So he has his fun with Janus instead

Kinda likes it when blood stains his dress shirt

Because its warm. The warmth that once came from the person now belongs to him and it eases the cold empty feeling only slighty and temporary but its warm

He's indifferent on the lights. They're a little too perky for his tastes

Depression

Third in command

Doesn't really get a lot of say with decisions

Can erase certain memories (he doesn't use it very often)

Wears a medium blue dress shirt, brown leather suspenders with a black bowtie.

Normally keeps his sleeve rolled up

When crying; his eyes leak black

If the tears hit your skin, its a 10% chance that you could collapse and start spewing your insecurities while your eyes leak black

Symbol is on the back of his neck

Doesn't really mind not having the control that Apathy and Wrath have

Less work for him to do anyway

Couldn't care about the other twos blatant abuse of Janus

He sees it as a way to keep Janus in line

If Virgil wanted to play father figure he can go ahead. But that doesn't mean he has to be kind

Respects and looks up to Wrath

Normally just follows the lead of the others

He's the epitome of the duckling following the leader

Wrath has steak and potatoes for dinner? Depression also wants that too

Wrath says that they need to bend Thomas to their will? Well duh! Of course!

Wrath says that Janus has been out of line lately? Well why don't we break his leg again to show him a lesson

Most of the time, the food restrictions have no effect on him bc he listens to Wraths every word

Virgil

Was the second in command before he left

Opposed Wrath on his more extreme tactics

Has the ability to control shadows and others own Anxiety

Hated the dress code that Wrath insists on having. What kind of person wears suspenders and a dress shirt daily anyway?

Still wears the stupid things anyway because Wrath said to and he's not in the mood to get beat

Symbol is tattooed on underneath his shirt. The left side

After adopting Janus he lost his position as Wrath's right hand

Kinda pissed him off when he got demoted. Not bc of the loss of power. But bc he couldn't protect Janus as well

After adopting Janus he became the 4th in power (after Depression)

Remus

Is the epitome of don't give a shit

He has the power to conjure things and cause intrusive thoughts

Half the time he ignores the dress code completely

Typically opting for his normal clothes but does own a uniform as well

(if anyone has a better photo of this outfit pls pls pls DM me. I've looked through hundreds of photos and this is the best dark green dress shirt with suspenders I got)

Symbol is tattooed on the swell of his back

Gets practically no opinion on dealings or decisions with plans

Remus is a indifferent party. One moment he'll help you. The next he'll stab you in the back

He mostly just works with who can give him what he wants the fastest

He actually feels pity for Janus

Not like he'll ever act on that but he still feels a bit bad for the guy

Remus is kinda like that uncle at family get togethers that no-one talks to or cares about but he's always there

Janus

Oh boy, where to start?

Has the lowest rank out of every other side

His power (the ability to make people unable to talk) can only be used on the light side of the mind

He is also unable to heal immediately on the dark side

Meaning that he has to treat his wounds the old fashioned way

Doesn't really like the dress code

Only gets to wear his normal outfit when he's visting the light sides

Blond hair (wow! Really? Not like its the the name of the au!!)

His patch isn't a tattoo

This boi has the biggest fucking sweet tooth you could ever imagine

He is also so fucking short

His shoes have lifts to make him taller

He's cold blooded

When he gets focused, he bleps

This is turning fluffy-

He is literally covered head to toe in scars

Almost no skin was left untouched

Lying is a defense mechanism for him. He's deceit! He can lie his way out of anything!

Heavily disagrees on Wraths views

Thomas should get ahead, of course he should. But that shouldn't come at the price of someones life or the cost of his reputation

Hurting someone to get ahead in the short-term is only going to harm you in the long term

To hide the bruses, he applies thick layers of makeup and illusions if he's on the light side

Hasn't gotten a good sleep in years

He's terrified that someone will break into in bedroom while he's sleeping and finish him off

Or that they'll cut the heating again and he'll slowly freeze to death

Or that they'll drag him out of his room and chain him up somewhere to become nothing but a punching bag

He has agoraphobia (fear of open spaces)

Hasn't had positive touch since Virgil left

He has venom. Its very lethal and only activates when threatened

When angry, his eyes glow yellow and his canine teeth grow sharp and long that they stick out of his mouth slightly like fangs

Was meant to be a light side and function as Validity and Societal Self Preservation. But the dark sides found him first and brought him back with them

Virgil is his father figure

Doesn't really know how to feel after finding out that he's not a dark side

He does feel really really lied to and betrayed

But... Virgil is his dad. Virgil raised him

How could he be upset?

Writes down all of his thoughts and complaints in journals that he keeps in his room

He started writing journals when he was very young, so there is hundreds of them

Honestly doesn't know how to feel about him being a light side.

He's mad at Wrath. He knows that. But he can't do anything because his powers don't work on the dark side

He might as well be powerless.

When on the light side (so when all his powers work) his powers include: silencing others, the ability to repress sides/ make them unable to appear to Thomas and illusions.

His title is technically Validity with the added function of societal self preservation

Still goes by Deceit anyway

----

Has three brands burned onto him via Apathy

Is on his left ankle. Its his snake symbol. About the size of your fist

On his right bicep. The word "monster" in bolded writing. About two fingers in thickness.

Left chest, above his heart. The words "Property of the Dark Sides" in cursive text. The writing sits in a box.

All the brands are extremely painful for Janus if touched. Brand #3 is the brand he hates the most

His scales are more in patches then a perfect 50/50 split down his body

More will be added in the future.

[jasonbehrs]

i wanna read every word, chapter 3 + epilogue

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you’ve never met?” “Uh, do you mean like we’ve-been-doing-long-distance-slash-online-dating or like I’ve-been-crushing-on-the-cute-barista-at-the-library-cafe?” “Ummm, more like I’ve-read-their-poems-and-sure-they’re-very-talented-but-their-handwriting-alone-makes-me-smile.” “… That’s oddly specific.”

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: eunhyuk, ryeowook; guest appearances by the rest of sj-m and yesung ship: eunwook genre: romantic comedy themes: alternate endings, strangers to lovers, handwriting, identity reveal setting: college chapter: 3+4/4 word count: 5.8k

read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad

~~~

He and Ryeowook haven't hung out alone before, but he's sure this won't be awkward. Their only real link may have just been Yesung, but Hyukjae likes to think he successfully ingrained himself into that entire friend group in time. He tells himself that he and Ryeowook would have had a solo hangout at some point. Ryeowook's crush situation just expedited it.

They had agreed to meet at the quad but didn't specify anything beyond that, so Hyukjae chooses a bench with high visibility so that Ryeowook could find him easily. He crosses his legs and balances a laptop over one knee and a notebook over the other, figuring he could get some work in while waiting.

Not long after, the other plops himself right next to him and pulls out his own work without even saying hi.

Hyukjae keeps his face down as he smiles to himself. So Ryeowook's feeling just as apprehensive about this as he is.

Something about that realisation makes him brave enough to break the ice. "Ah, my favourite person under 5'2". How do you do?" he snarks without pausing his typing.

In response, Ryeowook uses a single finger to tip Hyukjae's notebook onto the ground without remorse.

"Okay, I deserved that," Hyukjae admits with a chuckle as he bends to pick the notebook off the ground and put it away. "So… did you bring one of the love notes?" he asks once it's apparent they didn't really have anything else yet to talk about aside from that.

"Of course!" Ryeowook rummages through his bag and pulls out what Hyukjae can only presume is the poem scrapbook he's heard the others talk about.

"Um, is there a problem?" Hyukjae asks as he eyes how Ryeowook holds the book to his chest with both hands, making no move to hand it over.

After a long moment, Ryeowook looks at him with hard eyes and a blush on his cheek. "You have to promise me you'll be careful with it. Like, if you want to look at one more closely, then tell me, and I'll take it out for you. Actually, you'll have to clean your hands first, too; I'm worried about oils. I'm pretty sure I have wet cloths somewhere in this bag…"

Hyukjae has heard the others call the scrapbook "a little extra." He privately agrees, but seeing the way Ryeowook is so protective over the thing makes him think perhaps Ryeowook himself is, in fact, a lot of extra.

He wisely leaves those thoughts unvoiced and instead motions for Ryeowook to hurry up. The other hesitantly hands over the book, and Hyukjae makes a big show of settling it calmly on his lap.

It would have been funnier if Ryeowook hadn't legitimately sighed with relief at his action.

Hyukjae lets it go; and with more interest than he expected from himself, he opens to the first page.

"Where did you get these?!" he yelps before he could help it.

"What? Why are you yelling? What!?"

Hyukjae can only distantly hear the other, however, as he is far more preoccupied with the absolute whiplash of recognising his own handwriting in the scrapbook. Page after page is filled with his rejected songwriting assignments, now forever immortalised thanks to Ryeowook's tender care.

Ryeowook flicks him in the forehead, and he struggles to collect himself. "Um, I mean. Um. Wow! This looks like an impressive collection," he stutters out awkwardly. "And, uh, actually! I don't think you ever told me the whole story?" he blabbers, knowing full well he actually has heard the whole story but needing to redirect Ryeowook's attention towards anything other than him right now.

So he sits there and lets Ryeowook gush over Poem Person, identifying that he is slightly uncomfortable with the knowledge that said person is actually him.

Sassy, doting, health-nut Ryeowook is wistfully waxing poetic over him, over his words, over his handwriting (a concept so baffling he actually has to stifle a chuckle in real life lest he hint to Ryeowook he is not actually paying attention).

He nods absentmindedly and offers encouraging smiles at what he hopes at the right places, but his mind is more concerned with figuring out: What the fuck is he gonna do?

~I think I must be broken somewhere. Since when did I start not welcoming even myself?~

The answer, apparently, is string Ryeowook along.

Ryeowook may have initially been hesitant about getting Hyukjae's help; but now that he has it, he has bolstered his efforts to track down and meet Poem Person. Hyukjae is astounded at his forward and creative ideas, stuff like signing up to audit the class one day or even straight up coveringthe chair in chalk so that he could easily spot the person walking around campus.

"Honestly, I need a sidekick, someone to help me pull these things off," Ryeowook explains one day while they're brainstorming over lunch.

Well, Ryeowook's brainstorming.

"I'm also kinda hoping you'll be close enough to the student to act like a wingman when we finally do meet. First impressions are everything, you know."

Hyukjae, for his part, is busy trying to maintain his poker face.

He didn't come clean to Ryeowook in the quad that day because he didn't want the awkwardness. Hyukjae was not mentally ready to hear that his brand new friend had been harbouring a crush on and had been engaging in borderline-stalker behaviour over little ol' him, and he suspects Ryeowook wouldn't have taken the news very well in the moment either.

Now though, he's just trying to maintain the status quo.

It's no secret that Ryeowook had built up an idea of what Poem Person is like in his head. What's the harm in letting him have a little crush on a figment of his imagination?

So yes, he continues to plot with Ryeowook, he continues to bother Donghae by tossing scrap assignments at him in class, he continues the whole ruse.

The harm, as Hyukjae is quick to discover, is that he grossly miscalculated the effect the lie would have on him.

It starts with a text.

Are we still on for tomorrow at 2?

yep. the student union still good?

Yep, see ya there

"Who are you texting?" Siwon asks as he plops beside Hyukjae on their apartment couch, his attention mostly trained on his own phone.

"Huh? Oh, just Ryeowook. I told you about him; I'm helping him meet this guy he has a crush on."

Siwon raises an eyebrow but doesn't look up from his phone. "Oh? You were smiling at that phone like someone agreed to go on a date with you."

Hyukjae stiffens. "I was not."

That makes Siwon look up. Hyukjae valiantly meets his gaze, but he breaks eye contact just a moment later.

"... Right."

Curiously, fear follows shortly after.

Hyukjae doesn't even notice it at first. It was too subtle compared to the overwhelming confidence he gets from being around Ryeowook. With the way the other talks about him, to him, without knowing it's him… it's a heady feeling. (Case in point: The day before a modern dance midterm, Ryeowook texted him a photo of a recent Hyukjae original along with a copious amount of heart-eye emojis, and Hyukjae felt so energised that his professor pulled him to the side after his performance and concernedly asked him point-blank if he had started taking steroids.)

Ryeowook doesn't just see the best in him. He guesses at Hyukjae's flaws and turns them into superpowers. He paints an image of Hyukjae in colours that he wasn't even aware existed. It's an instant ego boost.

It isn't long, however, until Hyukjae stops hearing musings and starts hearing expectations. Ryeowook believes in a vibrant, exciting, romantic persona; someone smart and adventurous who can enable him to be as silly as he has the potential to be.

Since when was Hyukjae any of those things?

He isn't afraid of Ryeowook's wrath when the jig is eventually up, no. Wrath he could handle; wrath he deserves. Instead, he is afraid of the disappointment, the unimpressed "Oh." that Ryeowook couldn't help but let slip once he processes the truth. Hyukjae wouldn't be able to handle seeing the light in Ryeowook's eyes—the light that used to be reserved for him even if the other didn't know it—dim.

And finally comes realisation.

"Don't you think you're being a little unfair?" Hyukjae asks him one evening. They got to-go meals from the dining hall and moved as far west as they could without leaving the campus entirely. The sun is due to set any minute now, and they wanted the best seats possible.

"What do you mean?" Ryeowook asks with furrowed brows still trained on the skyline.

"You've spent so much time thinking about this guy, analysing his mood and habits and whatever. You'll meet him for the first time, but it won't really be the first time for you, you know? You'll know all this stuff about him already whereas you're a complete stranger to him. That's gotta be, like, a power imbalance or something, right? That's not fair to either of you. You've mentioned before that you don't necessarily want to date Poem Person, but that's not even a good basis for being friends with him."

Ryeowook glances at him from the corner of his eye and smirks. "If Mi were here, he'd have a lot to say right now."

Hyukjae chuckles as he lets the other change the subject. "He'd actually have only one thing to say, and I don't want to hear it."

Ryeowook hums but doesn't say anything else, attention still mostly on the sun's slow descent to the horizon. Hyukjae would have liked an answer, but he gets it. He just sprung all that on the other without any preamble, and Ryeowook probably needs time to think. Hyukjae isn't entirely sure what he wanted to hear anyway.

Ryeowook doesn't speak again until the sky finally begins to bleed red, a threatening promise for the end of the day. "You have a point, of course. I'll constantly be comparing the person he is to the person I made him out to be, even when I don't mean to, but… Something tells me that won't matter as much in the long run." He chuckles, low and with disbelief. "I couldn't tell you why; but I feel like even if I told him the whole story, even if the first things I ever say to him are the questionable antics I've engaged in just to meet him, he wouldn't run away."

And he would be right, of course. Look at where Hyukjae is now.

"You're thinking too highly of him," Hyukjae says. He means it as a way to distract from the mortifying ordeal of being known, but it comes out bitter without his permission.

Ryeowook smirks. "Is that what this is about? Are you jealous? Ooooh, are you lonely?" he teases. "Don't worry, I pay back my debts. Just tell me as soon as someone catches your attention. I can't promise forever, but I can promise a first date, for sure." He winks.

There is a long moment between when the sky finally turns black and when the streetlights flicker to life, one conveniently spotlighting the pair with its glow. It mocks Hyukjae with its inevitability.

~This night blesses the day we meet. The moon is open in the sky, and the stars smile.~

"Hyung, I'm bored."

"Okay."

"Entertain me."

"In a minute, I'm reading something for class."

"What's it about?"

"The cultural impact of Black youth on the interfaces of music and body expression in early 1970s New York City."

He appreciates Ryeowook's offer to swing by and keep him company while he studies in one of the many lounges strewn about academic campus, but he'd appreciate it a lot more if Ryeowook would actually let him study.

Ryeowook blinks. "I understood all of those words individually."

Hyukjae drags a hand down his tired face. "I'm basically in the same boat, so please? I'll do whatever you wanna do as long as I can make it to the third page of this article today. I really need to participate in tomorrow's seminar or else I'll have to take a make-up quiz."

"Fiiine," Ryeowook whines, but he thankfully starts scrolling through his phone in silence.

After a few minutes of quality reading, Hyukjae hears Ryeowook rummaging around, so he languidly raises his eyes to see how the other is choosing to preoccupy himself.

He shoots up out of his seat, barely taking the time to set his laptop down properly in his haste. "What are you doing with that!"

Ryeowook looks up from where he is crouched besides Hyukjae's open bookbag, holding a notebook in his hand. "Oh, did you need this?"

"For what? No. What?" Hyukjae spouts in rapid fire, thrown-off by how Ryeowook responded to his question with one of his own.

Ryeowook's eyes light up. "Excellent! I thought you needed this for your homework," he comments as he lets himself fall backwards onto his butt. "I was just gonna read your handwriting while I waited. I can't believe I never thought to check yours out before. I've basically gone through everyone else's in the friend group."

Hyukjae could kick himself for letting such a good excuse slip right out of his hands, but the room seems to have gone in slow motion as Ryeowook proceeds to open up the notebook to a random page. Like a man possessed, Hyukjae dives straight for Ryeowook's lap, successfully knocking the notebook out of the other's grasp in the process.

…

"Hi," he says over his shoulder when the silence has gone on for too long. Ryeowook raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

Hyukjae chuckles awkwardly while he manoeuvers himself out of Ryeowook's lap with as much grace as a baby deer on ice. He quickly snatches up his notebook while Ryeowook is still prone and simply observing his movements, and then he doesn't know what to do next.

Ryeowook takes over from here, standing up calmly and striding right into Hyukjae's personal space. Despite having several centimetres on the other, Hyukjae cannot help but feel small under the other's assessing gaze. "There is clearly something in that notebook you don't want me to see."

Hyukjae eyes the room, trying to calculate his odds. "Yes," he hesitantly confirms.

Ryeowook narrows his eyes. "Is it about me?" he asks with an edge to his voice.

"No." The half-truth comes out much quicker, thankfully.

Ryeowook purses his lips then nods. He takes two steps back, and Hyukjae almost does something silly like reach for his waist to keep him nearby. "Alright, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to let you finish your homework without intruding on your privacy. In return, you'll buy me boba and bring me a notebook I can read the next time we meet."

Hyukjae sighs with relief and readily agrees to those terms.

A few days later, he confidently hands over Siwon's old notebook from their shared Psych 101 class and a medium taro boba.

Ryeowook opens up to the first page then laughs in Hyukjae's face, high and bright. "This is your notebook?" he manages to ask through his cackles. "No wonder you didn't want me seeing it. You must have known I was going to make fun of you."

"Why? Why?" Hyukjae demands, affronted. It may not have been his handwriting, but still.

"It's like your handwriting is Jekyll, and you're Hyde. I look at this, and I don't see you at all."

Hyukjae looks over Ryeowook's shoulder to see what he's working with, and he can't help but agree. Siwon's handwriting is neat, consistent, and in perfect lines straight across the page. Rich kids and their calligraphy classes, dammit.

Nevertheless, he tries to salvage the situation. "Come on, you know I'm a neat person."

Ryeowook snorts, but he nods his head in agreement. "That may be true; but if someone had to write a list of things about you, 'neat' wouldn't even make it in the top 50."

"Can you think of 50 things about me?" Hyukjae teases as he slinks back around to Ryeowook's front, effortlessly plucking the notebook out of the other's hands in the process.

Ryeowook crosses his newly freed arms in front of his chest and smirks. "Yep. 1 would be that you're a brat, and 50 would be that your feet smell."

"Yah! My shoes don't breathe!" Hyukjae whines. "I want 50 nice things," he continues above Ryeowook's snickers.

"Oof, that'll be tough. How about just 5, and you get to pick what movie we watch next?" Ryeowook haggles.

Hyukjae rolls his eyes but agrees. He'll take what he can get.

"1: You're not half-bad at impressions. 2: You like strawberry and chocolate, but only as separate flavours," Ryeowook starts, counting off on his fingers as he goes. "3: You're great at charades. 4: Everybody likes you because 5: you know exactly what to be, do, or say when the situation calls for it. You're not just flexible as a dancer, but as a person, and it's the best thing about you."

Hyukjae doesn't fight the toothy grin that stretches wide across his face. "You think so?"

Ryeowook nods very seriously, but there is an undeniable glimmer in his eyes. "Absolutely. With a lack of other suitable candidates, it's your best quality by default."

~I don't know why you keep staying with me. I lack so much for you, and I'm sorry about that.~

It would be easier to stop being in love with Ryeowook if the other didn't actually seem to value his company and insights.

There are days when they've hung out and talked about anything and everything but the song lyrics, when Ryeowook will bake Hyukjae strawberry scones and give him meaningful feedback on his choreography. They're both witty but in different ways, so they're always cracking up; and in those moments, he can't help but imagine he's already told the truth, that Ryeowook has already accepted him, and that this is what they could look like together.

But then he looks into Ryeowook's eyes and the warmth he sees there burns at a different temperature than the warmth he feels, and Hyukjae is painfully reminded that is not the case.

He can only take so much.

Despite knowing in his gut that it's the absolute wrong call to make, Hyukjae retreats. Stuck between yearning for Ryeowook yet fearing facing him and being frustrated with himself for equivocating on what to do, it's easier to just not do anything at all. He cancels more, begs off group hangouts, throws himself into his dance rehearsals. He even attempts going to the gym once just to keep his mind occupied and off of the problem.

Honestly, life could get better.

As he presses 'ignore' on the nth call he's received from Ryeowook that week, he offhandedly notices that blowing the other off feels way worse than lying in the first place. Let's see him spin that into a positive.

Hyukjae's doing great on his passive, brooding agenda until a few weeks later when he accidentally looks up from where he was perusing just as Henry enters the music library. By virtue of the youngest's classical performance degree, the two of them share the most colleagues and classes of any pair in the group.

He is honestly lucky it took so long.

He offers a stiff nod in acknowledgement and hopes that that's that, but Henry wanders over to his aisle with too much nonchalance to have not been intentional.

He doesn't leave Hyukjae in suspense for too long. "Ryeowook-hyung won't stop baking, you know."

"Huh?" Hyukjae asks dumbly, thrown completely off-guard from the unexpected comment.

"Seriously, he won't stop. You could get drunk off the stench of vanilla extract permanently in the air of the apartment."

Hyukjae realises with regret that he's never had a good opportunity to hang with the group at Ryeowook and Mi's apartment. "Oh. That's good, I guess."

"It would be better if we were allowed to eat any of it," Henry says, flicking through the records in front of him. Hyukjae almost believes it's a fake, idle action, but sometimes Henry nods and writes something down on his phone after inspecting an album.

"Yeah, it would be," Hyukjae offers at last for lack of anything better to say. Despite the stilted and tense atmosphere, he feels compelled to continue the conversation.

Henry nods again, but Hyukjae could tell that's for him. "I think he's saving it for someone that he expects to come by, but who else would come aside from any of us, you know?"

It is unclear if Henry includes Hyukjae in that 'us,' but Hyukjae doesn't dwell on it. Something much more pressing is on his mind. "What kind of stuff is he baking?" he asks, very afraid of the answer.

"He's been experimenting. Caramel chip cookies, cinnamon-lemon cupcakes, strawberry scones… But you know him. It's all low-fat, protein-enhanced flour shit; pretty sure he'd get kicked out of the nutrition program if it weren't," Henry says with a chuckle, but Hyukjae can't bring himself to laugh along.

Those all sound perfectly delicious, and something worse than vanity tells him that that's on purpose. The thought fills Hyukjae with so much more guilt that tears press against his eyes.

"Um, t-thanks, but I gotta—I gotta go," he stutters out through unmoving lips. What it is he's thanking Henry for, he has no clue; but he's far more preoccupied with exiting stage left from this scene as soon as humanly possible. "It was good to see you again," he adds as a reflex, already two steps further down but still facing Henry.

Henry raises his head from the jewel cases just as Hyukjae reaches the end of the aisle, and the slight smile he gives is so loaded with patronisation, pity, and perception that Hyukjae turns on his heel and runs.

~Longing is a beautiful pain I thought I could endure.~

After a whole class of not paying attention to a single minute—instead, wondering if maybe he should just get out with it, all of it: the deception, his feelings—Hyukjae leaves to find Ryeowook waiting right outside the door for him to exit.

"You don't normally get up this early," he comments in surprise, walking up to the other before he could help himself.

Ryeowook shrugs. "Well, I needed to talk to you, and I realised I didn't know enough about you. I don't know where you live, where you normally like to hang out; all I knew for sure is that you had class in this room at this time, so… Anyway, can we talk?"

Hyukjae's immediate instinct is to come up with an excuse, any excuse—he spent a whole class thinking about what he would do next time he faced Ryeowook but still hadn't settled on an answer—but Ryeowook reads his hesitation for what it is and makes the decision for him.

"Actually, we're going to talk whether you want to or not! Starting with: why have you been avoiding the group, avoiding me!" he yells. Hyukjae winces from Ryeowook's harsh words and high tone but can't bring himself to say or do anything more to stop the tirade. He's in no position to ask for leniency.

"I turned it over and over in my head, and I realised: I didn't even do anything! Are you mad at me because I didn't take enough time to get to know you? Are you tired of helping me? Why are you—you should have used your words and said something—whatever it was that was bothering you!—instead of just ignoring me like that!"

Hyukjae only notices that Ryeowook's volume and impassioned speech is attracting attention from other students and faculty in the hallway because he's avoiding the other's gaze, but he knows Ryeowook would be embarrassed about it later.

He hurriedly ushers them back inside Bomnal 235 despite Ryeowook's protests. The other angrily shrugs off Hyukjae's touch as soon as possible and stomps to the rear right quadrant of the room to sit, crossing his arms and legs in one fluid movement and pouting cutely.

Well, Hyukjae would think it was cute if he noticed it. His attention is instead captured by Ryeowook's choice of seating. If Ryeowook practiced the same seats code of conduct, then…

Without really thinking about it, he moves up and slides into his own seat, exactly behind Ryeowook's. He can tell the other is surprised he doesn't sit next to him, but Hyukjae focuses instead on the half-baked plan that formed in the time it took to ascend the stairs.

Ryeowook is petulantly turned towards the front, sure that he's said his piece already and waiting for Hyukjae to talk. Instead, he feels something light and crunchy hit the back of his head. "Yah!" he yelps, turning to glare at the offender, who is steadfastly scrawling something down on his notebook.

"You're doing it again. You're ignoring me instead of talking to me. If you're just gonna sit there and do homework, I'm gonna lea—YAH!" He's cut off by another bunched up piece of paper hurtling right for him, which he angrily swats away in mid-air. "What are you doing!?" he demands, but Hyukjae just throws another wad of paper at his desk instead, his aim perfectly allowing the paper to land right next to where Ryeowook's notebook would have been if he were in class... almost like he's done it dozens of times before.

Ryeowook frowns and picks up the most recent paper and smooths it open before gasping.

He would recognise this handwriting anywhere.

Unfolding my only crumpled wish You and I are in it

He quickly lifts his eyes back to Hyukjae, who refuses to meet his gaze even as he throws another wad of paper at Ryeowook's desk. Ryeowook picks up the first one that bounced off the back of his head and scrambles to find the second one which he had swatted away.

In this very short moment I'm just following my feelings

With trembling fingers, he finally opens the first one, which reads, "Didn't you say you'd recognise my handwriting anywhere?"

He looked up with cloudy eyes to see his desk slowly being overrun with scraps of paper and Hyukjae continuing to write on. Ryeowook slowly walks up to the paper pile and begins opening them one by one.

I'm sorry it turned out this way.

On each paper is a single sentence,

Honestly, I thought you were a lot of extra.

a confession, sometimes, or a timeline.

The sun set, that streetlight flicked on, and I knew it for sure.

As he reads the pages in no certain order,

You thought so highly of me, I was flattered and burdened all at once.

he literally pieces together Hyukjae's story,

What else was I supposed to do except throw them on his desk and annoy him?

from when he first realised the truth

It was so embarrassing to see all my rejected song lyrics immortalised forever by your hands.

to why he had avoided the other.

I didn't mean to hurt you, but I didn't want you to hurt me either.

As he continues reading, Ryeowook couldn't help but feel there is something missing, something that ties the whole narrative together. Alas, even after he finishes all the pieces on his desk, he couldn't figure out what.

Far past the point of anger and instead seeking to simply, finally understand, he looks to Hyukjae, who finally meets his gaze.

Without Hyukjae's constant scratching at his notebook paper, the classroom is loudly silent. He underhand tosses one final wad of paper to Ryeowook, and Ryeowook reads the intention in the action and catches it easily. He opens it up to read a final set of lyrics.

I still can't say the words Those words that make my voice run dry I love you more than anyone else

Ryeowook couldn't breathe. "You love me?" he asks with trembling lips, voice no louder than a whisper but reaching Hyukjae all the same.

Hyukjae slouches into his seat, hands outstretched and anxiously tapping his pen on the table. He keeps his head turned to the side when he nods. "I couldn't help it."

"And you lied to me."

"I'm sorry."

"Were you ever gonna tell me?'"

Hyukjae snaps into an upright position. "I wanted to!" He looks Ryeowook in the eye, trying to express as much sincerity as possible. "By god, I wanted to. But the way you talked about Poem Person… That's the guy you deserve. He wouldn't have led you on for weeks because he's a coward," he spits out.

"But he did."

"But he shouldn't have."

"But he's telling me now."

"But he wasted your time!"

"Why are you talking about yourself like that; he's you!"

"You didn't know that until five minutes ago!"

Ryeowook takes a moment, and Hyukjae forces himself to match the lowered state of tension that results. "It's not so hard to believe, now that I know the truth," the other says after a beat.

Hyukjae doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't. Ryeowook rolls his eyes. "You've heard me go on and on about your impulsiveness and emotional depth and whatever." He gestures to the pile of papers in front of him. "That's what this all seems like to me."

"I can't possibly have been what you expected, what you were hoping for," Hyukjae argues, trying to force the situation into a boiling point. He just laid himself bare in front of the person he's in love with, and none of his worst-case scenarios have come to fruition yet.

"I was hoping to meet the person with the lazy H's and the perpetually rose-coloured glasses, that's it," Ryeowook maintains calmly, but Hyukjae doesn't feel calm at all. He just keeps tapping, and Ryeowook sighs. "What I expected doesn't even matter. I knew there was a real person behind those notes, someone who came with all the complexities being a person entails. All my daydreams were just that; and even if every single one of them were wrong, and for some reason I couldn't handle that disappointment, that's on me. How I reacted to finally meeting you was not your responsibility."

"Are you?"

"What?"

Here it comes. "Are you disappointed?"

"Hyukjae."

The soft tone of Ryeowook's voice makes his heart clench, and Hyukjae shuts his eyes in self-preservation.

His anxiously tapping hand is stopped later by an equally soft touch, and he looks up in shock.

He hesitates to recognise the warmth he finds in Ryeowook's kind, earnest eyes. It's different from what he's seen before, but he doesn't want to categorise it any further than that. Has he imagined this temperature so much that it doesn't look out of place?

Ryeowook can see the moment Hyukjae focuses on him again, and he brings his other hand to squeeze both of Hyukjae's in turn.

"How could I be?" he asks, and he means it.

~I'll hold your two hands and confess, I pinky promise. Thank you for coming to me.~

EPILOGUE

Mi hums to himself as he turns the key to the lock of his apartment front door, arms laden with grocery bags…

… Which he allows to drop to the floor in shock as soon as he catches sight of the couple making out on the couch.

Ryeowook and Hyukjae break apart at the noise, heavily panting and cheeks flushed. Neither of them stop staring at him, and he cannot stop staring back.

Mi has so many thoughts running through his head, like Since when has that been a thing? and I can never sit on that couch again, but the one that comes out is, "What about Poem Person?"

If possible, Ryeowook and Hyukjae's cheeks flush even further, and Mi's incredulity slowly makes way for glee as he expects their response.

The caught pair turn to each other, communicating hurriedly through eye contact and muscle twitches alone before facing Mi again.

"Um, well, long story short…" Ryeowook begins.

"It was me," Hyukjae finishes.

Mi can't help it as he begins crying real, happy tears.

The gender has finally been confirmed.

~This happiness I noticed can be our starting point.~

~~~

A/N (6.14.2021): Wow, hasn't this been a ride! Eternal thanks everyone for reading and commenting; thanks Dorcas for your support; and thanks Amy for being my sanity check.  If you hadn't already noticed, SJ lyrics were abound in the fic, whether in section breaks, narration, or dialogue! Were you able to recognise all of the songs? :D

Also, now that you've read the whole story, I'd love to know: Did you notice that neither Eunhyuk nor Ryeowook ever feel guilt for their brands of dishonesty? As written, do the chapters progress in such a way that it is sensible—maybe even natural—despite the lack of it?

If you did notice, did that impact your reading experience at all? If you didn't, does knowing now change anything? And ultimately, in a story whose crux is deception, is guilt necessary for redemption?

Share your thoughts in a review, comment, PM, DM, whatever!

[laynavile]

Hi! Heard prompts were open and I'm a bit obsessed with spideypool and their dynamics and your writing is sooo good, so I was wondering if you could write about them with maybe some roleplaying?) it can be any kind you want, make it as kinky as you want to, just pls with Peter as a bottom (I honestly can't see him as anything but) thank you so much for taking the time to take request!

First of thank you so much for the prompt, secondly 🥺🥺 thank you so much for thinking my writing is sooo good.

As soon as I read "roleplay" my brain said doctor/patient 🤷 I wrote over 2k for this prompt then scrapped it--I still have it for another time, maybe--and I rewrote it all.

Warnings : Doctor/Patient Roleplay, Size Kink (only a dash though), Come Eating (kinda? Like Wade licks Peter clean after)

Also posted on ao3 - Dr. Wilson will see you now

Enjoy 😌

"The doctor will see you now." Peter resists the urge to giggle at the silly voice Wade uses--this isn't supposed to be silly, it's supposed to be sexy.

Peter stands up from the sofa and walks down the hallway towards their bedroom, the door is open and everything looks so bright inside. The blankets have been stripped from the bed, all that's left is a single pillow--Peter had requested it be Wade's pillow so he could smell him--in a white pillowcase and a soft white fitted sheet and top sheet. If it weren't for the fact that the bed is king sized or the dresser and bedside tables--Peter could believe it was an exam room, maybe.

Wade isn't in the room, having ducked into the bathroom before Peter started down the hall, "Change into the gown and sit on the bed please, and the doctor will be in shortly." Wade half yells in that silly voice again.

Peter strips out of his jeans and t-shirt, leaving his boxers and socks on before pulling the hospital gown on, he feel a little weird--part of him is nervous, he's never really liked hospitals or doctors, another part feels silly because this all seems a little ridiculous, but mostly there is a nervous excitement pooling in his belly. He sits on the edge of the bed and waits for Dr. Wilson.

He sits there for maybe two minutes before Wade walks in. He has on a long white lab coat, a pair of dark red scrubs complete with a stethoscope around his neck--it's real too, Wade has instead on getting the real deal no matter the cost.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Parker, how are you doing today?" No more silly voice, just his normal voice if not a smidge deeper though.

"Hello, Dr. Wilson, I'm doing okay, just need my sports physical done for school, I really want to run track this year."

Wade puts on a pair of blue nitrile gloves, "Let's get to it then." He places the stethoscope onto Peter's back, "Take a couple deep breaths for me."

Peter breathes in and out a few times before Wade moves the stethoscope around on his back then to his chest. "Lungs and heart sound good."

Wade had purchased a whole set of doctors tools--a percussion hammer, an otoscope, laryngeal mirror, an opthalmoscope, a thermometer and a sphygmomanometer. Peter had asked how and why the hell he had purchased all of them and didn't even want to know how much Wade had paid for them to play. Wade had assured him the cost didn't matter and he wanted everything to be authentic.

Wade checks Peter's temperature next, then looks into his eyes--the whole time Peter can't stop thinking about how Wade has no fucking clue what he's even looking for--he checks Peter's ears and then his throat. "Hmm, I think I'm going to need to perform another test on your throat, seems a little tight in there, need to make sure nothing is swollen." Peter almost laughs.

Gloved fingers trail up Peter's calf and onto his thigh, before moving back down to his knee, "I need you to stay still for me, so I can check your reflexes." Wade picks up the percussion hammer and when Peter least expects it taps his knee, "Excellent." He does the same to the other knee.

Wade takes Peter's blood pressure and he almost complains then--those fucking cuffs get tight.

"I need you to remove your underwear now please, I need to perform a testicular exam as well as a prostate exam."

"Are those necessary for a sports physical?" They'd talked about this, about how it would become sexual and how Wade wanted Peter to ask questions and be apprehensive about the below the belt portion of the exam.

"Absolutely, we need to be sure there are no abnormalities, an unhealthy prostate can lead to urinary issues." And Peter knows that's actually true, he also knows that there is nothing wrong with any part of his body--another perk from the radioactive spider bite, he doesn't get sick.

"You are the doctor and you know best so I guess it's okay." Wade steps back and let's Peter stand. He pulls his underwear down, letting them slip down his legs onto the floor.

"Thank you, now if you would I need you to lie down on your back."

Peter's stomach churns as he lays down, he can smell Wade on the pillow and that comforts him. "Like this?" He asks softly.

"Just like that." Wade's gloved fingers touch his thigh first, sliding upward towards his soft cock. The gloves feel strange--foreign against the skin of his balls, Wade holds them between his fingers, pressing softly, rolling them in his hand. "Feels normal."

He traces the head of Peter's cock with one finger tip and hums.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, no need to worry, I just need to see." He lifts the gown, folding it up and over onto Peter's belly when the cool air of the apartment touches his cock, he shivers.

Wade takes Peter's soft shaft into his hand, fingers wrapped around it, "Tell me, Mr. Parker, have you experienced any difficulty in getting an erection?"

"No, not at all, but Dr. Wilson, what does that have to do with running track?"

"Sexual health is important, you're young, still developing, we need to make sure everything is working." Wade pauses, looks into Peter's eyes, silently asking if he's okay, Peter nods and Wade continues, "I'm going to need a semen sample."

"Y-you want me to jerk off?" He feigns confusion.

"If you'd rather, otherwise I can stimulate you and collect the sample that way."

"You want to do that? I-is that something you can do?" Peter's cock twitches in Wade's hand.

"After the prostate exam, if you'd like me too."

Peter blushes--he's not embarrassed to be doing this with Wade, he's embarrassed because they sound like a cheesy, bad porno. "Thank you, Dr. Wilson, that would be very helpful."

Wade smiles, and reaches over to the bedside table to grab something Peter hadn't noticed before, a white and blue tube of surgical lube. "I need you to bend your knees, feet flat onto the bed, and let your legs fall open naturally."

Peter moves, he feels so exposed to Wade, it excites him.

He squirts a small amount of the lube onto one of his gloved fingers, he rubs the lube against Peter's hole, before applying more lube to two of his fingers. "Try to relax, breathe slowly and evenly." He presses the tip of one finger inside Peter's tight hole.

He tries so hard to relax, but it feels so good and Wade has barely even penetrated him yet. His cock instantly begins to fill.

"Perfectly natural reaction." Wade says as he slides his finger further into Peter--he knows how much Peter can take and how quickly--after a few moments of adjusting Wade begins to work his second finger inside Peter.

He whines, totally involuntarily. "Tell me, Mr. Parker, are turned on by anal penetration?"

"Yes." He whispers.

“Can I tell you a secret, Mr. Parker?”

“Uh, sure.” He says, voice cracking slightly when Wade touches his prostate.

“It turns me on too, especially when I’ve got a gorgeous twink like you beneath me.”

Peter gasps, in fake shock but more so from the pressure Wade is applying to his prostate, his thumb pressing against Peter’s perineum. “Dr. Wilson, i-is that an appropriate thing to say to your patient?”

“Probably not, no, but I think you like it. Just look at how hard you are.” He picks the lube up with his free hand popping the flip cap and squeezing it directly onto Peter’s throbbing, drooling cock. He wraps his gloved fingers around Peter’s shaft--Peter’s hips jerk up chasing friction.

Wade pumps his fingers in and out, alternating between applying lighter and harder pressure against his prostate. Peter gets progressively louder the longer Wade strokes his cock, and fucks him with his fingers. “Mr. Parker I think we need to find a way to occupy your mouth, you’re getting a bit loud, we wouldn’t want to draw anyone’s attention, now would we? You’re liking this too much to stop now.”

Peter bears down on Wade’s fingers, hips jerking, “No, no, please don’t stop, Dr. Wilson. I can be quiet, I promise.” Peter begs, he doesn’t want Wade to stop.

“Next time you get loud, I’m gonna have to shove something in your mouth, Mr. Parker.”

This too is something they’d talked about, they both love when the other gets loud, they want to hear all the noises, but in this specific scene, Wade had suggested maybe they keep quieter, pretend there were other people in the office that could hear them and catch them--Peter had never really thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but the simple idea of other people hearing them, seeing them, catching them, turned him on more than he thought possible.

“I’ll be good, I promise, Dr. Wilson, oh, oh, fuck.” Peter tries so hard to stay quiet, but Wade is just too good, he knows exactly how to touch Peter to get him off. Peter practically writhes. He loses it when Wade pushes a third finger into him, his rim stretches and it burns a little, but the pressure of three fingers inside of him feels incredible. He wants more, and he wants it now, but he doesn’t want to upset Wade by ending this too quickly.

“Mr. Parker, what did I say?” Wade releases his cock, and pulls his fingers out of Peter, his hole clenches over and over trying to close onto something solid again.

“No, no, I’m sorry.”

Wade pulls the gloves off and tosses them, they land somewhere on the floor. He pulls his scrub pants down just enough that his cock springs free, Peter practically drools at the sight--Wade is big, like so fucking big that the first time they fucked Peter was convinced it was never going to fit, now he can get Wade’s entire cock down his throat. But it’s not just Wade’s size that makes Peter drool--a lot of people are turned off by Wade’s scars and while Peter isn’t fetishizing them, he finds them sexy, and it’s not just the way they make his skin look so unique, it’s the feeling of them, everyone always seems to think Wade’s scars will be rough and flaky or whatever, and yeah there are days where his skin gets extra dry and can crack and bleed and hurt really bad, but most days his skin is so soft, like silky almost, they’re raised up enough that Peter feels them constantly when they’re having sex and he loves it. Wade is always so self-conscious about them, Peter always tells him how beautiful he is, how handsome, how incredibly sexy.

Wade climbs onto the bed with Peter, next to his head, he nudges his cock head against Peter’s lips, leaving pearlescent smudges. “Open up, Mr. Parker.”

Peter’s lips part, Wade feeds his cock into Peter’s willing mouth. His tongue swirls around the head as it passes over his tongue.

When the head of his cock touches the back of Peter’s throat and he doesn’t gag, Wade praises him, “Good, very good, Mr. Parker. I don’t know why I was ever worried there might be something wrong with your mouth or throat.”

Peter doesn’t want to stop this, he really doesn’t but he’s getting impatient--he wants dicked down, and he wants it now.

Peter pushes Wade back, his cock pops out of Peter’s mouth--a string of saliva connects his lip to the tip. “Fuck, fuck, Wade, I’m sorry, chicken salad.”

They’d agreed on an outrageous safe word for this specific scene, normally they just used the colors, but for this they’d decided to have a different word as well to signify that they wanted to end the specific scenario but not end the sex.

Wade backs off, “No, baby boy, no need to apologize. That’s what the word is for, you okay though? Color?”

“Green, Wade, so fucking green. I need you to fuck me now.”

Wade kisses him before moving to strip, Peter grabs his wrist, stopping him.

“What are you doing, get your cock back here and fuck me.”

“Lemme get naked, Webs.”

“Nuh-uh. Just because I wanted to stop, doesn’t mean I want you to take the outfit off, it’s hot on you, besides, I sorta really wanna ruin it.”

“Say no more, baby boy.” Wade climbs between Peter’s legs, kneeling with his thighs on his calves, he pulls Peter down to him, lifting his legs up over Wade’s thighs to wrap around his hips. He grabs the surgical lube, spreading it over his spit slick cock.

“Hurry up.”

“Don’t rush perfection, baby boy.” Wade pushes inside and both moan.

Peter immediately starts trying to fuck himself down onto Wade’s cock, Wade grabs his hips, pulling him and pushing him--rhythm the opposite of his thrusts so that he never truly pulls out of Peter.

“Fuck, Wade.” Peter grabs at Wade, blunt fingernails bite into the muscular flesh of Wade’s biceps.

Wade’s thrusts become a bit erratic--he’s going to come, Peter’s sure of it.

“Come on, Wade, gimme your cum, fill me up.” He bears down. One of Peter’s hands leaves Wade’s bicep, to wrap around his neglected cock, his strokes are lazy and slow, he wants to feel Wade’s cum, hot inside of him before he orgams.

One, two, three, five, six, seven, ten, eleven, twelve, on the thirteenth thrust, Wade pushes in deep--he’s coming. Peter can feel it, hot and wet inside of him. Wade moans out a mixture of Peter’s name and fuck.

Peter starts stroking faster, Wade stills for a moment before picking up speed again, fucking into Peter quick and hard.

“Ah, ah, Wade, ‘m gonna come, fuck.” Peter’s thumb swipes across the head of his cock, he squeezes lightly, the first spurt makes it all the way to his chest. When all is said and done his hand and lower belly are quite messy. Wade hasn’t stopped thrusting, though now the movements are very small, he takes Peter’s messy hand into his own and begins licking it clean. Once his hand is sufficiently cleaned off, Wade slowly slides out of Peter, then down onto the bed, licking Peter’s chest and belly clean. He moves lower, gentle little kitten licks on the head of Peter’s spent cock, then lower still to Peter’s aching, puffy, hole--he laps hungrily at his spunk as it leaks out of Peter. He eases his tongue inside, making sure to get it all. Peter trembles beneath him, moaning half pleasured, half pained.

Wade sits up, looks at Peter, licks his lips, “Love you, baby boy.”

“Love you too, Wade, now get naked, and cuddle me.” Peter is somewhat grateful the hospital gown Wade had purchased was one with just ties on the back, he slips out of it easily.

Wade climbs off the bed, nearly falling flat on his face, he drops the lab coat to the floor, pulls the scrub top over his head and tosses it, he pushes the scrub pants down his legs and steps out of them. He crosses the room and pulls open one of the dresser drawers and pulls out a fleece blanket, he grabs Peter’s pillow from the chair in the corner and goes back to the bed, he lays Peter’s pillow next to his own, he lays down and drapes the blanket over them both. Peter snuggles up to him laying his head on Wade’s chest and yawns.

“Aw, did I tucker you out, Webs?”

Peter laughs, and yawns again. “I think so, doctor.”

Wade laughs before kissing the top of Peter’s head. “Get some rest, baby boy. Doctor’s orders.”

He’s just starting to fall asleep when suddenly, “Oh, shit, Wade, did I pass my sports physical?”

"Sure, baby, you passed."

"Good, oh and next time, I get be the doctor." Peter laughs, sleepily.

Wanna send me a prompt? Check my pinned post for details.

One more thing if anyone can figure out where the safe word came from, I will love you forever 😂

And a word of warning, I know fuck all about medical stuff so like quite inaccurate on that front, though all the tools mentioned are real, I did a little research.

[shesawriter39049]

BTS -HS-HEADCONS

(Slightly NSFW ) ..JUST A LIL

Mkay ..disclaimer this is all in good FUN, I’m also a fellow 94 liner, so if the boys were in the US, we would’ve been in HS together!

This is Obv very Westernized and I’m writing this as if they aren’t the art school AU’s people typically write

(EDITED 8/5/2020)

Jimin-

-A whole thot thot, I mean don’t get me wrong he’s a total sweetheart but he’s still a walking  thirst trap, no cap, no filter! He’s kinda ”famous” on social media(Prob like 15-20k) Snap, IG, FB, you name it...for some reason he always seems to work out shirtless. LOVES to take pics so you KNOW he worked out shirtless!

-Please don’t let any form of R&B play at a party...It’s a wrap, what you tryin to see? Some grind work? A little hip roll action? You want a lap dance? Tongue out and all! The Asian alllll the black girls girls love(Obviously not just black girls but lets be real..it takes a certain...appeal..and Jimin has it!) 

- Gives off that whole “My dad owns, about 5 nail salons and beauty supplies in the hood” kinda vibe! (Meaning hes comfortable around different walks of life,he doesn't feel out of place easily, hes the type of person that everybody can gravitate towards) The boy has swag and he knows it…got everybody from Megan to Brian thirsty as all hell! 

-Will win best hair his senior year..without a doubt, well if he doesn't fry it first!... Looks like a walking Pantene commercial, yes, more so because he can’t go two seconds without running his fingers through his scalp!

-KING of subtle shade...knows all the tea but acts like he doesn't as he slowly sips his Starbucks. The type to honestly forget he’s told 3 different girls they could wear his jersey/Letterman jacket! Until they all text him Thursday night ....

-A jock that’s cool with everybody! The type to cuss out his fellow athletes that are total dick wads and bully people... I feel like he’d be a damn good running back, he has the right height a muscle build up for it. 

-Owns a pair of buffs, don't lie to yourself you know you could see it too...wears skinny jeans with Timberland's 😒, still wears 3878374 rings. Believe it or not he gives me like Tilly’s/Zumiez/PacSun vibes!

-Drives a red obnoxiously loud scat pack that’s tinted way past the legal shade! He drifts on the weekends. Jimin would be your local plug IDC,IDC,IDC...LOL I said what I said, got a whole eighter hiding in a fake bottle of orange juice!

- Just flirting his way through high school living his best life… will fuck someone up if need be, has a slight temper, sassy as hell, can roll his eyes with the best of them. ”Would it be ...too extra if I changed outfits and dates during the dance?..Serious question guys! ” 

- He’d be the one that all the girls say gives the best head ...I mean..those lips..that tongue..HELLO! Stroke game on point...I feel like he’d have no filter when it comes to talking about sex publicly. No shame, loves to tease you, at the worst times, down to sneak off to the bathroom, or the janitors closet! Will bend you over behind the bleachers after they win a football game...if your down...gang, gang!

Namjoon-

-An Asian with light skin tendencies ...the one that low key may think he’s black (I’m joking!! lmao,,,maybe) 

-He’s that one person that legitimately everyone likes...no matter how hard you may try..you just can’t dislike him! 

-He actually is class president!

-Hangs out with all the basketball players and has the freshest Jordans..but can’t hoop! He’s on the school newspaper..writes the sports column...is still that free spirit telling you to live your best damn life.  

-Either looks like he’s going to a business meeting or like he just picked out damn near everything from Champs there’s no in between! 

-Makes and sells beats on the side, would also have a strong social media presence! He’s be the type to have a ton of followers on Sound Cloud and Spotify!

-The type to try and talk is way into and or around everything “I understand hats are against the wardrobe but I’m just trying to express myself and I think it’s right to give everybody self expression” Wears glasses, though none of us really know if he needs them forreal forreal…. Wears a snowman on his wrist (A big iced out watch). 

-Drives a white BMW 430, puts cones around his car in the parking lot..Yoongi and Jimin kick the cones...faithfully..everyday!

-Don’t let his niceness fool you, will cook your ass in the blink of an eye if need be! Prefers a good verbal situation though, the king of a good word battle will have you all types of trying to check the dictionary to understand what he just said! Got you standing there like a misplaced student in honors English… 

- If shit get’s physical well..we can’t let the president fight soo...he’ll call Yoongi or Jimin to handle it for him…. Because...well his Jay’s are brand new..and only 10 other people have them...sooooo..OR maybe it’s lowkey because he can’t fight all that well...baby’s not coordinate OKAY!? Don’t @ me! 

-Oophfff daddy long leg! Lmao nah but you know he’d be the one...the one that every girl says he’s packin..and he is...He’d be little more reserved..and modest when it comes to his skills but he’s damn sure not shy! Would deff skip lunch, for a quickey at the park..yes the park.....would leave for lunch in a suit...come back in some joggers....real subtel....

Yoongi -

-The unexpected jock ...the one who can kick your entire ass in basketball, one of the stars on the team! Shooting Guard, has a championship ring from every year he’s played!

-Picks and chooses when he wants to be social. Just judge his mood based on his  face that day!

-DJ’s every party and school event. Often gets into trouble for not playing the clean versions of songs!

-He’s on the morning broadcast with Jimin and Jin...also forgets to censor himself. I.E “Peter Pan opened last night and it sucked actual ass!” 

-Lowkey highkey funny AF, king of sarcasm and one liners!

-Purposely owns an old school Chevelle instead of a new car, also drifts on the weekends.

- Lives in like the flyest loungewear...joggers, hoodies,Jays..doesn't look like he tried but still looks bomb AF. 

-Another one that will creep up on you when it comes to his skill in bed, the one that girls say there surprised with how passionate and attentive he is! In contrast to how  hard his exterior can be, the type to take his time and make sure your more than satisfied….

 -Always, ALWAYS has his headphones in, lives and breathes music! He raps on the side, competes in underground competitions, and win’s without even trying! Refuses to ever participle in the schools talent show because he can’t swear therefore they are hindering his creative flow! 

-Constantly looks like he’d rather cut his own testie off than be “here” right now. 

-Will walk out if you don't let him go to the bathroom when he feels like it, actually he’ll just walk out period…”Yoongi where are you going!?” . 

“Oh I need another espresso shot before I sit through this extremely falsely sugarcoated reality of how Columbus “discovered”  a place that was already there!” 

Jimin: “Aww man, sit down I got you! I was just about to have Pizza Hut sent to the office, you wanna add into my postmates order!!?” 

😩😂😂😂...I canttttt ..maybe I’ll do the other four!? Again all in good fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I often wonder what the boys would be like if they were born in the states. Then I realize the lack of filter they’d all have especially JIMIN and I’m grateful for the cultural differences that come with them being Korean born !

UPDATE- 7/29...I think I might turn these headcons into a lil sum sum...writing these reminded me that I actually enjoyed HS (For me my “shitty” period was like elementray and part of middle school) But I made HS my bitch, and had so much damn fun lol !

7/30- PART 1

[wildegreenlight]

Just

A/N: Hello lovely Romione fans! It seems I have returned from the dead! Ghost!Wilde strikes again! It feels like a million years since I wrote something, and for a while I honestly thought that I may have forgotten how to do the things with the words. It feels good to have had a little time with these two, I had missed them terribly. 

Thanks as always to my DEM crew for keeping me in the loop and for always encouraging me in real-life and in the world of R/Hr. Special thanks to @callieskye for helping my knock the rust off and beta this thing...I owe you a cider! (And if we’re lucky @trademarkblue will join us again!) I love you all 3000!

It was late, too late really. She should have gone down to Ginny’s room ages ago, but she just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving, not quite yet.

Ron sat across from her on the worn rug, bending over a book. The soft glow of the lamp shone from behind him-around him. The warm halo of light made him look like a sunset, or a painting of a saint, Patron Saint of Crossed Signals. For a long moment a smile bunched her cheeks, and she could not tear her eyes away from him- abandoning her customary caution.

“You alright?” Ron had closed the book and was staring at her with an adorably furrowed brow.

“Oh! Yes...sorry...I was just,” yes, Hermione, please, do tell! What were you “just” doing? Just imagining how soft those little wisps of hair curling around his ears would feel? Just fighting the urge to crawl over there and snog the adorable off his face? “Uhhh...thinking”

“Yeah.” He definitely didn’t doubt her answer, and honestly, he probably thought that she was thinking about all the things she should have been thinking about: Harry, Horcruxes...her parents.

Her parents…

Ron had been so, so...well, beyond words wonderful since she had shown up on his doorstep, a barely contained mess. It made her a little lightheaded just thinking about how tenderly he’d held her as she sobbed into the thin fabric of his t-shirt. It felt so right to have him comfort her, reassure her. How was it possible that he could make her feel so strong even at her weakest moments? 

It had really started with the funeral, now that she thought about it. After Dumbledore’s death she knew that the time had come to put her “worst case scenario” plans into action, despite her fears over the sanity and morality of her idea. However, when she had finally told him about the new life she would make for the soon-to-be Wilkinses, his sincere support soothed her anxious nerves. Instead of trying to talk her out of it, or offering to shield her from it, he had listened and agreed and ultimately, best of all, trusted her judgement. That kind of faith in someone else was a rare thing, and she had just begun to appreciate it fully. More than anything, Hermione wanted to be worthy of his faith in her.

The silence settled between them as he conceredly studied her face. He gently placed the book beside him and scooted closer to her, taking the book she had been pretending to read and moving it next to his recently discarded one.

“Why don’t we take a break, yeah?” 

“Sure,” she prayed that he would attribute the tremor in her voice to anything other than her distraction at his fingers brushing against hers. 

“It’s been ages since dinner, want me to go grab you a bite of something, a sandwich maybe?”

Something in the way he asked the question reminded her so much of Molly that she almost looked around for her. She smiled in spite of herself at the image of Ron, apron-clad, enthusiastically offering second servings to a boisterous table of copper-haired children. 

“Not doubting my sandwich making skills are you? I’ll have you know that I’m a genius with two slices of bread, and Mum’s roast, of course.”

Her smile became a chuckle, “I have no doubts...actually that’s what I was thinking about just now.”

“I knew it! I’ll be back in a mo’,” he started to get up, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No, don’t go,” his look grew worried, perhaps she had said it a bit too desperately, “I mean...I was thinking about...you...and well, your Mum...and how,” she searched for the words to make him understand.

“Yeah, I know she’s been right barmy lately. Wedding would have her a mess during the best of times, but pile on the extra dose of mortal peril and it’s like a billywig and a pixie had a very high-strung baby,”  he bumped her with his shoulder playfully.

“True, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so wound up before, but I was actually thinking about how good she is at looking after everyone, and well,” she determinedly continued, afraid she might lose her nerve, “how good you have been about making sure I’m okay, about keeping me okay even when I know that it’s hard for you too.”

“Hermione,” the playful look from mere seconds ago was replaced by something that she couldn’t quite name, “I’m glad that you think I’m helping, you don’t know how much I want to,” he looked down at the floor, searching for the right words, “take care of you...well, not that I think that you can’t take care of yourself...I mean...fuck, I am so bad at this, sorry.”

She dipped her head slightly, drawing his eyes back to hers, “What exactly do you think you are so bad at?”

“Well obviously I’m bad at explaining what I mean, so that’s one thing.”

“Trust me, you are no worse at that than I am,” he shook his head, but she continued, “not to mention that everyone has trouble with that sometimes. What else?”

“The ‘making sure you’re okay’ part,” he put up his hand to stop her automatic rebuttal, “you can’t change my mind...I know we kinda agreed to just forget about it, but I can’t.”

Oh.

She had not expected this. Not at all. They never did this. Once a row was sorted, or was at least adjacent to sorted, they never spoke of it again. Ever. She was instantly conflicted: did she have the courage to hear what he might say? The courage to say what she dreamed of saying?

“I was a shitty friend, there’s no way around that. Even though you don’t need me,” his pause was so small that she almost missed it, “to look after you...you should at least be able to count on me not being a giant arse to you.” 

She knew that at least part of what he said was true; she wouldn’t insult him with a lie, “How about we agree that we were both horrible friends,” the word friends left an odd taste in her mouth: bet Bertie Botts doesn’t have that one!

“You were only horrible because I was more horrible.”

“It’s not a competition, Ron,” she tried to use humor to lighten the intensifying mood, but his look of earnestness did not fade.  “Seriously, you can’t take all the blame, I was just as much at fault.”

“I should’ve never let it go that far.”

Let what get that far, exactly? Their argument? His relationship with Lavender? She didn’t want it to matter to her which he meant, she had worked so hard to be mature about it, but she couldn’t deny exactly what her preference really was. 

“Well, it’s not like you were the only one,” her whole body strained forward, desperate to consume the last few centimeters between them. 

Since his poisoning they had been like two people trying to cross a frozen lake, unsure if the surface would hold, fearful of what lie beneath. Each step they took was tentative, always listening for the telltale crackling sound. She had learned to look for weak spots, and steer clear of them. But now...were they pushing their luck? 

“Sorry, I don’t...I just...want you to know that I’m trying to do better...to be better.”

“You are,” before she could talk herself out of it, she reached out and placed her hand on his knee, “there is no way I could have gotten through the last few weeks without you.”

Covering her hand with his own, he continued in a more confident voice, “You would’ve though... you can do anything you put your mind to...but I do want to make it easier for you if I can. I know what it’s like to be worried about your family...to want to protect them.” 

“And you are! We both are...just in different ways,” she made no attempt to move her hand.

“Yeah, but in the same way too,” when she looked puzzled, he continued, “you know...by helping Harry end this.”

That was it wasn’t it? In the end, they had to get it right, so that they would all be safe.

“Ron, I’m scared. What if I...what if we are in over our heads? I mean, we have so little to go on and so much against us,” she felt her confidence slipping, her voice shaking. 

“Honestly?” after she nodded, he gathered both her hands in his before he continued, “ ‘mnot as worried as maybe I should be, but that’s only because-”

“Because of what?”

“Look, I may not be the smartest bloke in the world,” he continued in spite of her narrowed eyes, “but I do know this.. if I’m gonna be in over my head, there’s no one that I’d want to be there with me, no one I would trust more to make it work.” 

“Really?”

“I may be a prat sometimes, but I have never lied to you...never will.”

“What about Harry?”

“He may lie to you, but I have no control over that,” his eyes twinkled while hers rolled at the joke. “You know I love Harry, but it’s just not the same, ya know?”

Hermione’s heart was hammering in her chest, no, it is not the same with Harry, not at all. “How so?” She knew she was playing thick, leading the witness, but she wanted to actually hear his own words, not the ones she thought he might mean. 

“It’s like Harry is always out there you know? On this “Chosen One” mission, not that he ever asked to be... and it’s like our job to keep him from imminent danger and to keep him from letting that stuff go to his head, to keep him “just Harry” sometimes. But with you,” he glanced down at their joined hands, “with you it feels like sometimes you’re the only one in the world that sees past Harry...to me.”

“I feel the same way...I love Harry too, but I could never tell him the things I tell you,” it was so close to saying what she really wanted to say, “he never makes me feel this...safe.”

“I will do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

“Me too...because I learned something really important this year.”

“That Luna is the best Quidditch announcer Hogwarts has ever seen?” Not even her attempt  to kick his shin made him stop holding her hands.

“I’m just not half as good at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you.” 

For just a moment, she chided herself for saying too much, but the look of pure joy on his face quieted her. Maybe those signals are not as crossed as I thought. She was also fairly certain that if she leaned forward just the tiniest bit that he would meet her in the middle for that kiss she had dreamed about since she was fifteen. Yet somehow this was better. 

“Thank you,” his voice was softer than it had been before.

“For what?”

His thumbs made lazy circles across the backs of her hands,  “For not hating me, for letting me take care of you, even if it’s just a little.”

“Just don’t let it get around; I have to keep up my swotty, know-it-all reputation.”

Ron’s laugh was loud in her ear as he pulled her into a hug. Making him laugh, a real, genuine laugh, was one of the most satisfying feelings; it wasn’t as great as resting her head against his chest, and the two combined were making her giddy. She knew that soon she would have to go downstairs, and soon they would have to leave with Harry to find Horcruxes. Soon they would make a world safe enough for all of them, a world safe enough for that kiss she had dreamed of since she was fifteen.  But for now she was just Hermione, and he was just Ron, and it was just right. 

[thedollnerd]

Very excited to get my first LOL OMG doll.   I’ve been eyeballing these dolls ever since they came out, read a lot of reviews, people talked about how great the details on the dolls are and along with decent articulation, it was an irresistable combo.. The strange chibi heads put me off at first, but I’m always a sucker for a fully articulated doll, and these are actually chubby looking! .. or at least plumper than the usual fashion doll.

Groovy Babe is from the latest wave of LOL OMG dolls, called Lights.  They all have some kind of UV-reactive element on their face and/or clothes and each doll is inspired by a different type of 60s fashion.  I don’t know an exact reference to point out other than Twilight Zone, but Groovy Babe is clearly evoking a whole black and white psychedelic/hypnotic vibe.  I feel like there’s a film reference here that I’m not aware of.  She is also supposed to be a beatnik poet.

I kinda love the little hatbox, it fits all her accessories except the comb.  The little white cylinder is a tiny blacklight, with battery included.  The “book” is a single sheet of paper folded in half.  

Hair: super thin rooting on the top of her head, can see scalp through the hair (including black lines presumably there to guide the rooting but clearly totally ignored).  The long hair feels soft, but it’s a little plasticky – is it nylon?  Bangs are one solid mass of gel plastered to her forehead.

Clothing: Cutout in dress is poorly sewn and bunchy.  Jacket is pretty nice but was carelessly stuffed into the garment bag, so now the lining is sticking out in the front and the collar is permanently popped (which also shows a white mesh lining).

Fully dressed, she looks like maybe she made her clothes herself, and isn’t terribly good at it. 

Tights and boots are perfect.  Earrings are adorable!  They spin!  Hypnotic!  But they’re hard to see when she’s wearing them; they kind of face sideways and her hair covers them.  Also, the paint has started coming off already, the first time I put them on the doll.  Sunglasses are odd and not very 60s mod, but pretty damn cool; they’re made of a softish, almost rubbery plastic, so they’re very easy to put on and take off without having to worry about breaking them.  The long narrow glasses look funky and cool with the round eyes of the doll; makes me think of Novi Stars.

  Body:  Love those curves!  These dolls have wonderfully chonky butts and thighs.  Butt dimples!  Still has a thigh gap though, for some damn reason.  Also, extreme hourglass waist and sculpted abs, just in case you might be afraid this doll is a nasty fatty fatfat.  Beautiful curvy legs, but sadly they have very old-fashioned jointing – hips have zero rotation and knees are crappy click joints that are hard to use and barely bend.

  Why these dolls come with chair-like stands is totally beyond my comprehension, since they can barely sit.  Feet are en pointe like a ballerina – not just tiptoed high heel feet, these are almost torturously pointed.  Wonderfully sculpted little toes though.  Smallish pointed breasts with just a hint of nipples.  Painted-on bikini undies match her pale turquoise eyeshadow.  Hands pop off for ease of dressing and are gracefully sculpted, with cute little dimples on the knuckles (which would make more sense on chubby hands, but whatever).  The hands actually go off and on really nicely, no fear that I’m going to break the joint doing it.  Fingernails are pointy and painted white; the paint is actually quite well-done here, they’ve done a pretty good job of keeping it only on the nails without overspray onto the fingers (unlike some other OMG dolls I’ve seen).

Face: Bizarre LOL round-eyed face; almost Bratz-like in the lips and near lack of a nose, but the eyes are absolutely enormous and perfectly round.  The proportions of the features put me off at first, but there’s something about the way they’re done that’s surprisingly appealing.  This doll has a very matte faceup in solid colors; edges are mostly clean and the paint is almost completely within the lines of the sculpt.  Her lips remind me of a certain iconic stomach medicine.  Eyeshadow is a light turquoise color with a darker turquoise line above it, with a cat-eye black liner and spiky lower lashes that mimic the drawn-on lashes people used to do in the 60s.  Somebody did their homework on 60s mod makeup.   Eye color is an indigo blue, complements the makeup nicely; a little boring, but more detail in the eyes might just make them look creepy since they’re so very large. 

My doll has three tiny black spots on her face, and a handful of faint white spots on the black of one eye (the paint seems thinner on this eye for some reason – the swirl is more obvious in regular light).  Head has an unfortunate tendency to tilt slightly back, and not because of the weight of her hair.  She can tilt her head just fine when she’s looking to the side, but facing forward, she can’t look up or down at all.  The vinyl of her head is slightly more orangey than her body?  

Gimmick: It’s a fail, at least with this particular doll, at least with the tiny black light included with her.  The black and white overall color scheme looks cool under black light, but the specifically UV-sensitive stuff is mostly barely there. The UV-sensitive? stripe on the dress is rather visible in regular light, and yet indistinguishable with the black light.  The “hypnotic” twirls in her eyes are barely visible even with the black light right up against them.  I tested all of this in the dark btw.

The makeup is the one thing that actually does change noticeably.  The lips are still pretty much the same color, but they’re super bright neon under the black light.  The eye makeup changes color and has an extra layer of eyeliner that’s mostly invisible under regular light.

It’s a pretty underwhelming effect overall, but if I had a blacklight room I’d display her in it, after finding her some new clothes.  I’d rather they’d just made things better quality and not done the stupid gimmick, but whatever; their goal is to sell toys to children and the LOL brand is kind of rooted in gimmicks.

These dolls are extreme caricatures of a “sexy” human female (if you like big butts – and do not lie).  I do wonder if they were inspired by Betty Boop; they have almost an identical silhouette, with the big round heads, tiny waist, and big hips.  Their proportions are so cartoony and absurd and clearly very thoughtful choices were made that sacrificed functionality for form – the terrible click joints in those smooth, shapely legs, for example.  Though why the hip joints couldn’t rotate is a choice I can’t understand..

She’s a cute little doll, to be sure, but not display-worthy, or even something I’m really excited about photographing (which is the only real surprise involved in opening this box that supposedly contained 15 surprises). 

Real talk about the surprises, actually – the things included in this box that are not pictured on it are: the stand, the garment bag with plastic hanger, the plastic hatbox with patterned tissue paper, the sunglasses, and a folded piece of paper pretending to be a notebook of poems.  So the only real bonus item that you wouldn’t expect to receive by looking at the box is the sunglasses.  At least there’s something. 

Anyway.  I’m left with mixed feelings, honestly kind of disappointed?  Is the doll I got sub-par or is this typical?  Am I just hugely, stupidly picky?  I want to rehair her; she’s crying out for it, really.  Maybe I’ll fall in love with her once her worst flaw is gone.  Maybe I’ll rip her head off and try some other ones.  Maybe she can be my big-booty guinea pig.

This is the best I could get her clothes to look in a photo.. Unless she’s holding it shut like this, the jacket keeps flapping open with that white mesh stuff flopping out.

Still excited for Angles.  I’ve had a thing for Mondrian and his right angles for a long time and it’s really fun to see his art referenced with a fashion doll.

Review: Groovy Babe LOL OMG doll Very excited to get my first LOL OMG doll.   I've been eyeballing these dolls ever since they came out, read a lot of reviews, people talked about how great the details on the dolls are and along with decent articulation, it was an irresistable combo..

[thehopefuldandelion]

Not Him

part 2

part 1 is here on ao3. here on fanfiction.net

thanks to all who supported me in part 1 specifically @lovely-tothe-bone​ and @tindomrl​

everlark.

I do not own any of these characters:)

***

A day later and I still hadn’t process the fact that just yesterday, Gale and his “intern”, Madge, were in my bed. Gale cheated on me. So what, maybe I had some erotic thoughts about Peeta. I hadn’t actually gone through with them. He’s my boss anyway. I can’t think like that.

Shaking that thought away, I focus on getting ready for the day. Another day ignoring Peeta, another day without Gale. I get dressed quickly in a pencil skirt and button up shirt with a black suit jacket. The more conservative today, the better.

The apartment seems, empty, without another soul here. The tv which used to drown out the blaring noise of honking cars is silent, no dents in the couch to be seen. I don’t have to cook breakfast for two people, instead just for me. One singular person. I suck in a breath and release it. In all honesty, the apartment might seem empty, lonely even, but I don’t miss Gale. As our relationship dwindled and tottered over the edge, we became more like roommates. I can’t even remember the last time he touched me romantically. Pass by pecks and simple questions with simple answers is the only interaction we really had near the end. No wonder he cheated on me.

I should probably be making a bigger deal out of this but I’m too exhausted to care. Gale seemed done with me so why should I still keep rekindling the tiny fire we had? I push all these thoughts that have haunted me since last night far back into my overwhelmed brain and hope that today goes smoothly.

Shit. There goes the milk spilling all over the floor. Yeah today is not gonna be smooth. I don’t have time for this. Shit. Shit. Shit. I hear the toaster pop! meaning the toast is done, burnt, of course. And as I spread butter a chunk slides down my freshly ironed shirt. Fuck. On my way to the bedroom, pretty much jogging, I bump my hip into the chair, hard, (that will leave a bruise) causing me to stub my toe on the door post. 

“Aghhhhhhhhh,” I scream in pain and frustration.

I guess this is the world punishing me for some odd reason. Dang. I’m late. I mean I do need this job, but I won’t have to see Peeta anymore so it’s kinda a win-win. Not really, in the end it would be a hard loss and a joyful win.  Stop thinking, Katniss. You need to get to work. Yikes. This day sucks.

***

“Good Morning, Katniss,” Peeta greets me while sipping a cup of coffee. Black.

“Hello, Peeta. How was your night?”

“Wonderful. Isn’t it such a lovely day?” He says looking straight at me. I noticed he didn’t even glance out the clear windows. “And how are you on this beautiful day?”

“Uh, it’s great...I’m great,”I respond while gritting my teeth. I can’t stand his kindness. He peered at me, his face in disbelief, turning his head slightly.

He almost scoffs and then says, “Ok, Katniss. Whatever you say.”

What is he? A psychopath? Telekinetic? Wouldn't be surprised.

“Oh, and Katniss? You have a stain on your shirt.”

Fuck.

Over the past week of working at this hell-hole, I observed Peeta giving me looks, unsettling but not in a vicious way. I almost want to relish in the tingling feeling they bring from head to toe. What is wrong with me. My brain and heart are sending two very different signals to my body. I need to throw all thoughts of Peeta in the sudden absent trashcan in my baffled brain. Can anyone find that missing trashcan? 

“Katniss?” I hear someone call from behind me.

My chair swivels around and I see a jubilantly smiling Peeta fixated on me, or more particularly the stain. Ugh, that freakin stain. He pulls a hand from behind his back and I see he’s holding a shirt. I give him a befuddled look and he quickly stammers to explain what it’s for.

“Uh, I always have an extra button up with me and was wondering if...well if...if you wanted to wear it until tomorrow. I mean, obviously, you can change when you get home. You don’t actually have to wear it until tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and blushes a deep shade of red. “So, if you’d be interested, I uh-”

I save him the embarrassment by grabbing the shirt out of his hands and running to the bathroom.  He gives me a bewildered look and I almost want to laugh. But I don’t. Because I hate him. Right? Right. Lie. And me borrowing his shirt is just because I have no other option. Right. Lie.

Slowly unbuttoning my shirt, I imagine what this would feel like if it was a different situation with Peeta unbuttoning it for me. Oh god. A shoot of pleasure settles in my lower half. What is this man doing to me?

The white button up smells of dill and almost, if I’m not mistaken, cinnamon. The sweet smell wafts into my nose making me hungry. As expected, I am engulfed in the shirt, enveloping me in warmth and...love? That’s bizarre. I never associated Peeta and love. Those two never intermingled in my mind. With the shirt tucked into my skirt and having splashed frigid water on my face, I walk, no, speed-walk towards my desk.

Peeta pops his head out from his office and is about to say something when he looks at me. His mouth opens a few times but no words form. Ok then. “K...Katniss, uh, um, I, uh, can you-

The phone rings distracting me momentarily from his stammering. 

“This is she.”

 “Yes, he is here.”

 “I’ll transfer you now.”

I turn to Peeta, seeing him still utterly flabbergasted, and say, “Katie’s Cakes on line 1, Mr. Mellark.”

Recovered, he answers, “Thank...Thanks, Katniss.” In a blink of an eye he is back in his office with the door safely closed.

I snort to myself and wonder where else the day will lead.

***

My head is throbbing. Countless phone calls and a trip to the coffee shop down the street later and its 6pm, and I’m still at work. Honestly, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and Netflix are calling my name. Ugh, I can’t wait to go home. I should've brought some Advil. Mentally adding that reminder for next time.

A quick glance around the office assures me I’m the only one here. Hallelujah. I’m starving. Maybe there's something in the break room. As I open the fridge and bend down to reach some leftover cookies form a party, I hear a gasp and someone run out of the room. Huh. That’s odd. My head hurts and I’m hungry so I guess I’m hallucinating. Eh, it happens.

Oh my God. These cookies are heaven on earth. I moan as I take a bite. Another gasp. What the hell. It can't be me...can it? I start to investigate. My thought process is that if it is a demon or ghost, at least I can die and never have to come here again. The only lights on are from my cubicle and...wait that's weird, why are Peeta’s office lights on. Hmm. 

As I turn the corner to get to his office, I bump into a something hard.

“Oof.”

“Are you ok, I’m so sorry Katniss.”

It takes me a second to regain my bearings. “Peeta? What the fuck?”

“Ah, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” he says with a slight blush on his cheeks. He then offers his hand for me to take and helps me up. I brush the dust from the ground of my skirt.

Ok, then.

“It’s fine Peeta. I’ll survive.”

“CanIbuyyoudinner?”

“What?”

“Uh, can I take you out?” he says.

“As a date?” I inquire him. There is no way in hell I would go on a date with Peeta Mellark. Right?

“Um,” he rubs the back of his neck, the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, then neck. “I guess. I was thinking more of an apology. For bumping into you, that is.”

“Ok,” I say slowly, reminding myself this is not a date. Yes, definitely not a date. “When?”

“Now?”

“Uh, um, sure. Yes, now is fine.” I say quickly trying to cover up my stammering.

I walk over to grab my purse and put on my jacket. “So where, were you thinking?”

“I have something in mind,” he tells me with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

***

We end up at a bakery about 2 miles outside of city limits. I was confused at first, until Peeta told me he grew up around here and worked at this bakery until taking over Mellark Enterprises from his dad. The bakery is small and homey, wood tables slightly worn down from years of use. The counters are stained, each stain telling a story. It seemed like a nice place to grow up, full of love and laughter, something I never understood.

Peeta lets me try a variety of pastries, all delicious and mouth watering.

“I actually own this bakery.” Peeta tells me.

“So that’s why we are in here safe and sound and not arrested for breaking and entering.” I tease him.

He laughs and looks me in the eyes. “I don’t come here often enough, being CEO of a company and all,” he says while stabbing his fork into a muffin. “It’s peaceful out here. Almost like, everyone has taken time to reflect on their lives and go about their days how they want too.”

“So, what I’m picking up on is you didn't want to be a CEO of a multi-million dollar company.”

“Honestly, no.” He breathes out. “I wanted to be a famous painter and if that didn't work out I’d just stay here, spending the rest of my days baking.”

“Makes, sense. Painter you say? Just how good are you?” I laugh.

Peeta shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not terrible.” One of his curls has fallen over his eyes and it takes all my restraint to not reach my hand over and brush it back.

Hours later we were still talking and laughing. I was having a great time.

“No, way. You actually said you were the doctor and flew around in the TARDIS. I can’t believe she considered that that was true.” 

“Oh, yeah. She was mortified. Best blind date I’ve ever been on.”

“Well, I wouldn't have run off,” I blush.

“Good to know,” Peeta says in return, giving me a look of hope.

We both just peer at each other, lost in thoughts of our own. The silence isn't awkward per se, it’s almost satiated.

“Well, I should get home. I do have work after all.”

“Of course, Katniss. Thanks for joining me. I hope this evening was apology enough,” he says kindly.

“It will suffice,” I tease.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, almost sad to see me go.

“Tomorrow. Good Night, Peeta.”

“’Night, Katniss.”

I drive away feeling strange. Do I like my boss? More importantly, do I like Peeta Mellark?

***

After hanging up my coat and setting down my purse, I shimmy of my skirt, keeping Peeta’s button up on, I jump into bed and spread out like a starfish. This day is over. Finally. As my eyes become heavy and I drift off into a deep slumber, my phone pings!

From: Unknown 11:46

Hey Katniss, this is Peeta. I just wanted to know if you got home safe.

From: Katniss 11:47

Hi Peeta. I did thank you for your concern. Sleep Well.

From: Peeta Mellark 11:49

Sweet Dreams, Katniss.

I turn off my phone, not even considering what the message implies. It’s been a long day and the last thing I need to worry about is Peeta and I’s relationship.

I remembered to set my alarm last night, luckily, so I won't be late for work. I am still wearing Peeta’s button up. Slowly, but surely, I get out of bed, shower, and eat breakfast. I turn on the tv, because I need some distraction. Opening the window next to the fire exit, allows for some much needed air into the apartment. A familiar voice draws me out of my mental to do list for today.

Holy Shit.

Peeta is on tv. Why didn't I know about this? I’m his secretary for god’s sake. Caesar Flickerman who hosts Good Morning Panem is asking him questions about everything, from his favorite food to his love life.

“So, Peeta. What's it like being the CEO if such a profitable company?”

“Uh, it’s great. Hard work, but it’s good,” Peeta says with a somber look on his face. I think back to our conversations last night. He never asked to be CEO, but it was thrust upon him like a teacher giving homework.

“That’s awesome, Peeta.” Caesar leans back in his chair preparing to ask the next question. “Tell me, you were just added on “Forbes Top 10″ and given the title of “Panem’s Most Eligible Bachelor”. Anyone out there who catches your eye?”

Peeta has a slight hesitation in his voice before looking the camera in the eye and saying, “No, not really anyone at the moment.”

“Aw, c’mon Peeta. There must be one special someone. You can tell us.” Caesar inquires.

I see Peeta gulp nervously and blink a couple times. “Well, there is this one girl. I’ve loved her since forever, really.”

The audience, including Caesar, perk up at this. “Here’s what you do, buy her some flowers and chocolates and win her heart.”

“She’s not really that type of girl, plus I think she hates me.”

“Ah, well that's too bad,” Caesar shrugs. “Her loss. Am I right folks?”

The audience abounds in laughter and claps. Who is this mystery girl? I mean I hate Peeta, or used too, but it can't be me. Can it? Shaking those thoughts away, I turn off the tv, and grab my jacket and purse. Time to start the day.

***

Peeta’s office is still locked. I’m assuming he is still at Good Morning Panem. These past few days have been, strange. From breaking up with Gale, realizing I don't hate Peeta, and finding out he loves this mystery girl, I just don't know what to expect from this job anymore. My mind can’t process this abundance of, in a way, drama. Hey, I’m anti-social. What can I say?

Sticky notes with phone numbers and lists can be found on almost every surface of my workspace. I try to eliminate the countless number of them as the day drags on. No sign of Peeta. It’s boring without his tacky humor and clever remarks. 

I decide to call Annie to get me out of this slump.

“Hey Katniss! What’s up?” Annie asks. “Peeta likes, no, loves someone and I think it's me. What do I do?” I say shakily, unsure of what to think of all these conflicting emotions.

I hear Annie giggle and then regain her composure. “Hi to you too. And I don’t know, Katniss. Just ask him on a date and if he says yes then he likes you.”

“But, every time I even consider doing something like that with him, I’m brought back to all the times in our childhood when he was just rude and infuriating.” 

“Sounds to me that you might like him back, Katniss. You do know, that when a guy teases you it usually means he likes you. That could explain why he was how he was in middle school and high school,” Annie explains.

It makes sense, but I can’t justify that for his true feelings. The only way to figure this out is to confront him. Crap.

“You have a lot of thinking to do Everdeen. I’ll see you tomorrow for zen, yeah?”

“Yup, thanks Annie for the much needed clarification,” I say gratefully.

“Of course. Anytime, my friend. See ya.”

“Bye,” I hang up.

I go to the closest cafe for my lunch break, needing to get out of the office, and forgo an afternoon pick me up for a sandwich. It’s not as delicious as the sandwiches at Peeta’s bakery, but it does the job of filling my stomach. The bread isn't fresh and the meat was probably cut a week ago, then frozen, and don't even get me started- wait, when did I become a food connoisseur? 

I throw away the trash and walk back to Mellark Enterprises, hit the elevator button for the 8th floor, and continue in my secretary duties. I see Peeta’s office door open and something compels me to talk to him.

“Hey, so I saw you on tv this morning,” I say to a slightly surprised Peeta.

“Uh, yeah,” There he goes rubbing the back of his neck again. “What did you think?”

“You did great, I mean, you always do,” he blushes at this. “Mystery girl, eh? Caesar Flickerman had to bite tooth and nail to get that out of you.”

“She’s something special, indeed. I don’t think she knows I like her,” At this, Peeta gives me puppy dog eyes.

Clearing my throat, I respond, “I was wondering if you were free, possibly tonight? There’s this movie that came out that I’ve been dying to see and wanted to go with a friend.”

“Yeah, I would love to, Katniss.”

“O-Ok cool,” I say as I shoot finger guns at him. Finger guns...really Katniss?

Flustered and slightly embarrassed, I leave the office and sit down at my desk.

***

We meet up at the theatre and head straight for concessions. My stomach grumbles at the savory smell of popcorn and melted butter, salty pretzels and bubbly soda. 

“What do you like Peeta?” I ask him curiously.

“Oh, I myself love a classic bucket of buttered popcorn and M&Ms,” he says confidently.

“Mmm, sound delicious.”

“Do-Do you want to share Katniss?” Peeta inquires me nervously.

“It is a large bucket of popcorn; I don't think I could finish it on my own. Sure, we can share.” I have to remind myself this is not a date. I kinda wish it was though.

Before I even have a chance to get my credit card out, Peeta is already paying for our snacks.

“Peeta!” I scold while hitting his arm jokingly. “I should pay. I invited you, after all.”

“Too late, Katniss,” He says as he taps my nose.

We both look away nervously, embarrassed by our intimate actions.

About halfway through the movie, we stop passing the popcorn bucket and I feel drowsy. I wake up by someone softly calling my name.

“Katniss, Katniss. Time to wake up.”

Quickly, I realize my head is on Peeta’s shoulder and my arms are wrapped around his. How did that happen. 

“I didn't want to wake you. Your slumber looked peaceful, sleeping beauty.” 

“I’m so sorry, Peeta. I swear I didn't mean to fall asleep on your arm,” I apologize.

“It’s ok. You can fall asleep on me any time you need to,” He tells me smiling without a care in the world.

I gasp. “U-Uh, o-ok Peeta. Thank you for the offer.”

On our way out, I turn to him and give him a peck on the cheek. Then, like a cheetah, I dash to my car, leaving Peeta speechless. What is happening to me?!

***

3249 words later and this is the product. Hope you enjoyed!

[kpopblurbs]

alright some salt to the wound,, imagine you just started dating jae not long ago, probs a few months bcs y'all never actually got FREAKY freaky u feel? so u thought he'd be goofy or sum shit right bc of how he acts and he just doesnt look that intimidatingly strong,, until one day he's just frustrated from sth at work, comes home to you (in that outfit in the pic u gave me the link to) n u never rlly realized how fixated you were on his hands until you see them (1/?) - hand kink anon comin thru

(2/?) okay at that point you see your boyfriend all very frustrated which was unlikely of him and u gotta admit, he's sizzling hot), and u realize his hands were damn attractive. his pale complexion was contrasted by the red in his knuckes and fingers, veins bulging as they were on his neck and forehead. n ur like lowkey highkey worried so ur like "bby is everything okay?" n he's like fuck no,,, he's stressed frm work and all tht shit - hand kink anon

(3/?) but to add salt to HIS wound, not only the stress from work but also you. usually seeing you made him relaxed and at home, but when he came home that night and saw you in a very cute but inviting nightgown, he was far from being relaxed. it fuels to his fiery emotions and he's like no, he sits on a couch and motions u to come over n u do, u sit on one of his thighs as he brings his grip over to your throat, barely ghosting over it as he tells u to ride his thigh - hand kink anon

(4/?) and so you do exactly that, with his very delicious looking fingers holding your throat with just enough strength to showcase his dominance. you start off slow and teasing and it did not amuse jae, and he tightened his grip by a little bit as a warning and you completely ignored said warning n continued to tease the man. he wasn't having it. he g r o w l e d,,, "so you wanna be a brat? think that's really a wise decision, whore?" and just grabs u by the throat,,, - hand kink anon

(5/?) n sort of gets u up n kinda maneuvers to "throw" you to the bed n u were like holy fucking shit this man is kinky wtf,, ur skin burned by the lingering feeling of jae's fingers n the rings that adorned them but u burned even more by the sight of ur bf hastily undressing his navy button up, throwing it elsewhere, leaving his jeans (that had deliciously provided you some sweet pleasure earlier) on. "all fours, sweetheart. now.", the loving petname contradictory to what he'd called u earlier

aight yk what imma send it off anon (6/?) his tone was nothing like your usual sweet loving goofball of a lover, and u were honestly scared (though also excited n curious) of what would happen if u disobeyed him. so u get on all fours, bending your back slightly to give a nice pop of your ass which didnt go unnoticed by jae obviously. another growl could be heard, "guess u rlly do wanna test my patience huh, baby?", before a long silence ensued n u were confused bcs why the fuck is he so quiet??

(7/?) n u were confused bc wht the fuck did u do? some booty poppin aint gonna hurt no one, but OHOHO was mans pissed. the silence was starting to get weird before a loud thwack was heard booming through the air before you could register the impact on your ass, immediately realizing it was from jae's hand. holy fucking shit. that was rhe harsest ass slap you've ever received, and you fuckin screames at that shit bcs of the shock n the overwhelmingly pleasurable pain,,,

(8/?) and the smacks carried on for a bit and if u were to say u didnt enjoy it would be a fucking lie. after he was done, u knew ur ass would be red and purple. and just as u were about to let your figure slump against the soft bed, you felt his fingers weave their way through your hair and tugged, with moderate force to keep your stance upright like it was before the whole process but not too hard to bald you. goddamn did that turn u on.

(9/?) then he finally takes his pants off and you sneaked a lil peek n holy fucking shit u saw a long boi in that shit. he wasn't rlly on the girthy side but god damn he was as long as a fucking flagpole ngl,, it was so red and hard and angry ngghhhh,,,, "your little cunt right here is alrdy dripping, it better be a good vice for my cock, hm?", he'd lowly groan before sliding in oh-so-graciously. it actually was perfectly fitted like a vice, it felt heavenly in u. he started to pick up his pace,

(10/?) his pace soon became one that was animalistic and brutal, hips snapping back into you with such force that could ram your head to the wall tbh. so he snakes his hand to your neck, grabbing it again as he pressed his thumb and index fingers against the sides of your throat to cut off blood flow, making you feel lightheaded, adding to the overwhelming pleasure of the good dicking from jae. it certainly didnt take u long to cum, but it did for him as he finally came,

(11/?) he finally came after drawing out two orgasms from you, still with his hands wrapped around your neck. you were completely exhausted but you were worried-ish bcs fuck ur bf never did this,, not even close,,, so u were like "babe r u ok???" n he was like "yeah just tired, did i go too rough on you? i'm sorry" n ur like "no don't be, i like this side of you anyways ;)" and whoops there we go,,, IM SORRY IF THIS WAS TOO LONG AKSNKSK even tumblr disapproved im so so sorry :((

[i-will-die-for-jim-mason]

Everything in its place (Sub!Duncan x Femdom!reader)

A/n: Alright Y'all there’s some physical fighting here so if that doesn't hit for you I might skip this. Besides from that, this is just some filth that came about from me talking about Taekwondo with @langdonsoceaneyes and how much I sometimes just want to punch, Duncan.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Smut, Dubcon (kinda?), femdom, Fighting, spanking, oral, dirty talk, mommy kink.

You knew before you even started dating Duncan that a relationship with him meant you would have to put up with some things. Dealing with your name now showing up the news sometimes, people trying to spread rumors about, having to go to galas and whatnots where your main job was to stand around and look pretty.

And you were prepared to deal with that, it's just part of the package of dating someone in the public's eye. Besides being around Duncan and getting to see how he was behind closed doors was worth it.

Well… at least usually.

That night you were his date to some benefit, where you ended up spending most of your time without Duncan, making small talk with some people you somewhat recognized from other events. While Duncan was going around doing whatever it was at these things, honestly you were kinda glad you didn't have to spend all night on his arm, walking around in these shoes.

So really tonight wasn't going all that different than usual, that was until Duncan appeared out of nowhere, pulling you away from your conversation. Telling you that the two of you were leaving right then.

Leaving early wasn't all that strange, but you could tell something was up. During the car ride him you tried to ask him what happened but all you got was a gruff “Not now.” in return.

So you dropped it, spending the rest of the ride on your phone. You knew how he got sometimes figuring someone said something about his family, so now he was already coming up with some plan to screw them over.

When you two were finally home you were prepared to go to bed alone, while he worked on fixing the issue.

When he slammed the door it still made you jump through, what really surprised you was what came next.

“What the fuck was that y/n?” Looking over you saw Duncan staring at you somehow looking even more pissed than on the drive home.

“What are you talking about?” You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about, which seemed to just make him madder.

“Don't play dumb with me you know what you did with that little stunt.” He moved closer to you practically staring you down.

“Seriously Duncan what are you talking about, I spent the whole night in practically the same spot. I didn't do anything.” You reaffirmed, staring right back into his blue eyes.

“I'm not fucking blind Y/n I saw you talking to that fucker.”

“Yeah? I had time to kill, we were literally talking about the weather.” You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at whatever this was.

“Don't fucking lie to me.” Duncan moved in closer practically noses to nose with you at this point, blue eyes narrowed at yours.

And then it dawned on you.

“Wait, are you fucking jealous? Is that what's this is about?” You couldn't hold back a laugh, he didn't seem to share the sentiment. You watched him clench his jaw clearly unamused.

“Whatever, I don't have the energy for this I'm going to bed.” You said at his lack of an answer.

Turning to leave you barely got a step in before you felt his hand on your wrist jerking you back to him.

“We're not done.” Duncan said with an edge to his voice, grip tightening when you tried to pull away.

“Duncan I'm going to only say this once. Let go of me right now.” You told him between gritted teeth, looking directly into his eyes.

“No. Not until I'm done.” You could feel his grip get even tighter you wouldn't be surprised to see bruises in the morning at this rate.

“I warned you.” You twisted your wrist pulling his hand off with your other, you managed to maneuver behind him. His wrist now bent in an almost unnatural position.

“Fuck you.” Duncan spat, looking as best he could over his shoulder at you.

“Oh, I thought I was fucking that guy from the party?” You mocked, twisting his wrist just a little more. Not even bothering to cover up your smirk at the hiss he let out and how his knees slightly buckled.

Duncan managed to throw himself back against you, making you loosen your grip. He slipped from your hold turning to face you. Next thing you know felt the back of his hand colliding with your face, forcing your head to the side.

Before the pain could even completely register, Duncan roughly grabbed you by your, now surely bruising, jaw forcing you to look at him.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He growled through gritted teeth, leaning in close.

“You hit like a bitch“

“Someone needs to teach you how to close your fucking mouth.” He was absolutely seething now.

“Well, you never complained about my mouth before.” You taunted, you were this far in, no point in turning back now, you realized you could taste copper.

“You fucking slut.” He was even closer now, jaw clenched, baring his teeth like he was some kind of fucking animal.

Instead of words, you responded by spitting the blood in your mouth onto his face, some even making it into his mouth.

He growled, you watched his pink tongue slowly wipe away your blood and spit off his lips, blue eyes still staring into yours.

Surging forward you closed the space between the two of you, Duncan was surprised but returned the kiss just as hard, he moved his hand from gripping your jaw, tangling instead in your hair.

While he was distracted you took the overhunting to get even more of the upper hand, you wrapped your hand around his throat. You didn't miss the shiver that ran down his spine, and how he didn't try to fight you on it.

Pulling back you caught his bottom lip with your teeth, biting hard enough to taste his blood on your tongue, you couldn't help but smirk at the moan he let slip out.

“You're so much more enjoyable when my hand wrapped around your throat.” You teased, watching the ways his eyes went from unfocused and half closed to glaring at you once again.

The second he opened his mouth to retort you pushed your thumbs into his windpipe, watching another moan he didn't have time to stop slip out and the way his eyes fluttered closed.

Glancing down you noticed the prominent outline of his cock through his dress pants. You couldn't help but laugh a little, bringing Duncan's attention back to you.

“Are you really fucking hard right now?” You watched the way his face flushed, something you didn't see too often, epically when he was still this sober.

“God, you are aren't you?” You let out another laugh giving his neck a particularly hard squeeze digging your nails into his neck when he tried to move from your grip.

“Yeah isn't fucking hilarious.” Duncan said voice dripping in sarcasm, even with your hands still around his neck.

“I was going to go with pathetic actually.” You smirk only grew wider watching the shiver that ran down his spine at your words, even if he was still glaring at you.

“So is this what you need? For someone to grab you by the neck and put you in your place?” You whispered into his ear, the way his breath caught in his throat went straight to your core.

“Like you could.” He managed to choke out, still trying to get back the upper hand.

“I think I already am Dunc.” You used your grip to force him back till he hit the wall.

“Let go of me.” He choked out, his hand wrapped around your wrist, but you could tell he really wasn't trying to pull you off.

“I don't think you'll be calling any shots tonight, understand?” You gave throat another squeeze.

“I said do you understand?” You growled leaning in close to him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I understand.” He choked out, voice rough.

“Good.” You smiled sweetly at him, even if it was undercut by your hands being wrapped around his throat.

“Now what's going to happen is you're going to take your clothes off and head to the couch for me.” You explained watching the way he sucked in his plump bottom lip, a part of you wanted to bite it again and lick the blood off yourself.

“Oh and I'll be taking this,” You told him using one hand to tug on his tie, before trailing it down his chest listening to the way his breath hitched the further you got before hooking a finger under his belt tugging it towards you. “And this.”

You slowly removed your other hand from his neck, taking a second to admire the marks you left,  taking a few steps back, half of you expected for him to lunge at you and try to take control again. The other half was very pleased when you saw he was going to obey, for now at least.

First, he shrugged his suit jacket off haphazardly throwing it towards a chair, before walking towards you. You watched him unbuckle his belt, it was almost strange to see him do that without that smug look on his face.

He easily pulled it off handing it to you, next tugging at his tie, handing that to you as well. Making eye contact with you as he unbuttoned his shirt before throwing it in the general direction of the jacket.

He kicked his shoes off. When he reached the couch you watched him slip off his tailored black slacks, your eyes drinking in the sight, torn between watching the way the muscles in his back moved and savoring the skin the pants revealed. Your eyes quickly zoned in when he pulled off his underwear giving you an unobstructed view of his pert firm ass.

You walked over to stand behind him. “Now bend over the arm.” You instructed.

“You have to be fucking kidding me?” He asked looking over his shoulder at you.

“Now.” You told him, placing your hands on his shoulder you managed to knock him off balance making him catch himself on the arm.

“Fine.” He gave in, moving so he was properly bent over the arm.

Running your hand along his lower back you felt him tense before relaxing into your touch.

“You think you can just do and say whatever you want don't you?” You asked, even though you knew you wouldn't get a response. “Well baby boy, for once in your life someone's going to put you in your goddamn place.”

You could just barely make out a muffled “Fuck.” From Duncan. “Hands behind your back.” You ordered, setting the belt down to lay next to him you took the tie, using it to secure his wrists together. Maybe a little tighter than should have but a little more than you should have seemed to be the theme for tonight.

“What are you going to do to me?” Duncan asked, doing his best to look back at you, you noticed his eyes lingering on his belt.

“Duncan I know you're a fucking brat, but don't tell me you're an idiot too?” You mocked, you moved your hand from his lower back to his ass, feeling him tense once again.

You watched it seem to click in his mind, swallowing hard he turned his head back, forced to rest his face on a cushion without his arms to help keep him up.

You gave him a quick swat to his ass, it wasn't nearly your full strength but he still jerked forward and let out a gasp.

“Don't fucking move.” You ordered, using your other hand on his lower back trying to help hold him in place.

You gave him another quick swat to the other side, switching back and forth between sides. Not really hitting enough to really hurt, but enough that you soon had his ass a nice light shade of pink.

You took a second running you had across the hot skin, figuring out your plan of action.

“Is that it?” Duncan almost sounded disappointed.

“Aww baby, I'm just getting started.” You dug your nails into his ass, making angry red lines stand out against the pink, Duncan hissed at the feeling.

You figured he was warmed up enough, you grabbed his leather belt bending it in half. You dragged the cool leather over the hot skin of his ass, barely catching the small whine he let out.

You pulled back waiting, watching him start to slightly squirm, you could feel his nerves rising. After letting him worry for a moment you pulled back hitting his ass with more power than when you were using your hand.

You couldn't tell which noise you liked more the crack of the leather against his ass, or the moan he let out.

“You like when I spank your ass?” You questioned, dragging the leather against him again.

“Use your words, Shepherd.” You demanded when he didn't answer, giving him another quick hit with the belt.

“Fuck you.” He spat, you gave him an even harder hit with the belt.

“Sorry? I don't think I heard you right.” You mocked.

“I like it.” He admitted after a moment.

“Then beg me for it.” He tried to look over his shoulder to see if you were serious. “Now.”

He took a moment, he was thinking so loud you could hear him arguing with himself before he finally gave in. “Please spank me.” He practically whispered it but it was good enough for you.

“Was that so hard?” You mocked, giving him another hit with his belt, his whine muffled by the couch cushion.

This time you didn't give him a break following it up with another hard hit, you wondered if the marks would bruise.

“That the best you can do?” Duncan taunted, ego seeming to already have recovered.

You responded with a few fast and hard cracks against his ass.

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“Yeah do it again I think you've might have missed.”

“If you don't think those were hard enough maybe I should use the buckle, I bet that would make you bleed.” You noticed the slight way his hips bucked against the leather arm of the couch.

You started using the belt on him again, occasionally giving him a few strikes against his thighs, until you were sure they would be as bruised as his ass.

After a few particularly hard hits you paused, when you realized Duncan had gotten quiet not even letting out a curse or even a moan with each hit. For a moment you thought you had really gone too far until you saw the precum smeared over the arm of the couch and the subtle way his hips were still rocking into

“God, you are really fucking pathetic aren't you?” You tangled your hand in his hair, pulling his head up so you could look at him. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, tears starting to run down his flushed face, lip bleeding again from how hard he was biting it, you wanted to tear him apart.

“You know I think you're enjoying this too much for it to really be a punishment, maybe I should try hitting you with the buckle” You savored the way he sucked in a breath, blue eyes darkening even more.

“You're a fucking pervert.” You smirked. “I'll have to remember that for next time.” You used your grip on his to pull him back up till he was standing, your eyes drifted from his face to his hard cock practically dripping with precum.

“You know I don't seem to remember giving you permission to rut against the couch like a dog in heat.” You mused, hand still tangled tightly in his hair.

“Since when are you in charge of what I do with my dick?”

“Let's go with since I bent you over the couched and made you beg for me to spank you, or maybe it was when I had you backed against the wall with my hands wrapped your throat.” You teased pulling his head to the side by his hair, exposing more of his neck to you.

“Go to hell.” He growled out, voice even more fucked than the last time you heard it.

You just hummed in response, moving to nip at his neck, you weren't sure how dark the mark from your hands would be so you compensated by sucking some on to his neck.

Duncan let out a moan, “No marks.” That was a general rule between the two of you. Preferring not to have to see some pictures of either of you on a gossip rag just because of a hickey, but that wasn’t too high on your priority list at the moment.

“It's too late for that Dunc.” You told him, removing your mouth, and running a finger along the light red marks you left with your hands.

“Now, get on the floor.” You demanded you let go of his hair and taking a step back.

“No.”

“I wasn't asking. Lay down on the floor before I make you.” Your threatened, he stared at you trying to judge if you were bluffing, but from how his ass ached he already knew the answer.

“You're such a bitch.” He huffed but complied laying down on the carpet next to the couch, his tied arms underneath him.

“Aww look you can listen.” Part of you wanted to grab your phone and take a photo of just how utterly fucked he looked right then. You would save that for another night.

You decided that this would be a good opportunity to tease him instead. You slipped off your shoes, kicking them away. You could feel Duncan's eyes watching you intently, you quickly slipped your panties off leaving them on the floor.

Still, in your dress, you moved, joining Duncan on the floor straddling his hips you felt his cock rub against your ass through the dresses material, while Duncan groaned.

“Now are you going to place nice for me? Or am I going to have to punish you more?” You asked, running your hand along his abs and chest feeling the muscles.

“You call that a punishment? I barely even felt it.” You laughed at that. “Barely even felt it huh? So what were the tears from boredom? I bet with a few more hits I could have you bawling like a baby Dunc.”

He opened his mouth, ready to come back with some bratty retort, while you rolled one of his nipples between your fingers, catching him off guard he let out a whine.

“You know you're so much prettier when you're under me whining like a whore.” You kept playing with his nipples watching him try to hold back any sounds.

“But I think you could look even cuter.” Leaning down you took a nipple into your mouth sucking and running your tongue on it, little whimper managing to make their way out of his mouth. You gave the other nipple the same treatment, before moving higher sucking little bruise into his skin, you wanted to make sure he remembered this for a long time.

When you reached the junction where his neck and shoulder met, you gave a light kiss before sinking your teeth in, Duncan yelped jerking under you. You gave him a few more bites along his shoulders, spurred on by the way he was squirming under you.

When you sat up, you got to take in your handy work, the little marks you left on his chest and neck sent a shiver down your spine but the bite marks some even bleeding a little went straight to your core.

“You know Duncan this has been very selfish of you.”

“What?” He looked genuinely confused.

“You've been so bad and I've had to spend all night dealing with it, I think it's time you make it up to me.” You explained, your hands pulling the hem of you dress further up your body.

“Untie my hands I'll fucking make it up to.” Duncan growled, eyes blown wide in lust.

You gave a condescending laugh. “Aww baby, you don't need your hands for that.”

You moved further up his body until your core was right above his mouth. “Now Dunc if you can make me cum maybe I'll let you cum tonight.” You explained.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his face, you couldn't hold back the moan when his tongue touched your clit, you were so worked up from all of this, absolutely soaked.

For as much as he had acted like a brat tonight, he didn't complain at all about this, eagerly eating you out like you were his last meal.

“That's it Dunc fucking use that mouth like I want you to for once.”  You were slowly rocking yourself against his face, while he pushed his tongue into you.

The little breathy noise he was letting out and the sloppy noise of his mouth on you combined with the feel of his beard against your thighs was fucking heaven.

You rocked down harder on him pulling his hair with one hand, he let out a groan tongue working even faster.

“Come on baby you can do better than that.” It came out breathier than you wanted, but he got the message, moving to back to expertly suck on your clit.

You felt already close, you started grinding down, even more, riding his face in earnest now, which only made him moan

“That's it, fucking knew that mouth was good for something.” You moaned out, “Fuck Duncan.” You groaned when you finally went over the edge.

You felt Duncan lapping at you still while you rode at your high, wanting as much of a taste as you would let him have.

After you caught your breath you moved off of his face, returning to straddling his hips. You looked at his face, blue hooded eyes staring at you, face still shiny from you.

“So I take it from how you were screaming my name that was good enough?” His smirk was back on his face, but you could tell there was a slight hint of worry in voice.

“Don't get cocky or I'll go to bed right now and leave you here.” You warned, staring him down.

“Lucky for you tonight I'm feeling somewhat generous, but I'm not done having my fun.” You leaning to run a finger along his, sadly no longer bleeding, lip.

“All you have to do is be a good boy and not cum till I tell you to.” You explained pushing your finger into his mouth. “It sounds easy but I know how much trouble you have being good.”

“But you're going to try not to be a brat for me right?” You pushed another finger into his mouth, stroking his tongue.

“Right?” You repeated wanting an answer. “Yes.” He mumbled around your fingers, eyes closed.

“Yes, what?” You pulled your fingers from his mouth, wiping his spit on to his lips.

“Yes, mama.” He answered, eyes popping open when he seemed to realize what he said.

That was new, but from the way, your gut twisted it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

Before he could backtrack you put your fingers back over his mouth stopping him. “So is that what you want Dunc? For me to be your mommy? Is that why you act like a spoiled brat all the time? Where you just waiting for me to pull you over my knee and put you in your place?”

He was so red right now, the embarrassment was rolling off him, but that didn't stop him from letting out a moan at your words.

“Alright baby, mama's gonna ride you and if you beg me pretty enough I'll let you cum, but if you cum before I say I'll beat your ass so hard even you wouldn't enjoy it.” He let out a whine, you smirked.

You moved back raising yourself over his hard neglected cock, you were sure it would barely take any time to make him cum.

You slowly lowered yourself savoring the stretch till you were seated on his cock. “You like that Dunc, like having your cock in your mommy's tight pussy?”

“Yes.” He groaned out, not satisfied with the answer you reached one hand pinching a nipple, his hips jerking into you slightly.

“I love it, mama.” He tried again.

“Good boy” You cooed, giving yourself enough time to adjust you started slowly fucking yourself on his cock, not enough to get either of you off, but enough to annoy him.

You watched his face twist in annoyance and pleasure. “Harder please mama.” He pleaded, deciding he earned a small break you placed your hands in his chest using it to fuck yourself on him faster.

“Look at me, baby.” You told him making him watch you ride him, your breast barely staying covered by your dress anymore.

“Untie me please let me touch you.” Duncan begged to wish he could grab your hips, or play with your breasts, or just fucking anything that would let him feel your skin.

“No, you were still a brat earlier it's part of your punishment.” You started to fuck yourself faster not even stopping him when he would buck his hips into you.

You moved one hand back to his playing with his nipples making him whine even more.

“I'm so close.” Duncan groaned, doing his best to try to get into a rhythm of fucking up into you.

“Then you better start begging baby,” you cut yourself off with a moan when he managed to fuck right into your spot. “Tell your mama how much you want to cum.” Your voice was much less controlled than you wanted, but who could blame you at this point.

“Please mama I'm so close, you feel so good,” Duncan begged. “Please mama let me cum, let me fill you up.”

You could already feel yourself getting close again, still so sensitive from your first. You didn't know how much longer you could hold on, but you knew for sure he was even closer.

“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, leaning forward you wrapped your hands around his beck once again, taking him by surprise.

“Alright baby if you want to cum, you gonna cum just like this with your mommy's hand wrapped around your throat.” He just let another whine, fucking his hips into you even faster.

He was babbling now saying how good you felt, begging for his mama to please let him cum, how close he was, intercut with little whines and moans.

“That's it baby fucking cum for mama.” You pushed your thumbs into his windpipe, you felt his hips stutter before feeling his hot cum rush into you sending you over the edge, your walls milking his cock.

You both stayed like that for a moment, just trying to breathe, before you moved off of him, lying beside him on the carpet.

Neither of you said anything for a while the only sound was your and Duncan’s pants.

“So…” You started once you had come back to yourself.

“So…” Duncan repeated voice still rough, he turned his head to look at you.

“We should probably talk about all of that.”

“Yeah, we probably should... in the morning.” He added.

“In the morning works.” You turned on to your side facing him. “Are you okay?” You asked softly caressing his face.

“Yeah mostly,  my arms are asleep though.” He said shrugging as best he could.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.” You said sitting up quickly, gingerly helping him sit up as well.

“So I take it you weren't into that guy?” Duncan joked as you untied him.

“Duncan you could put a gun to my head right now and I couldn't tell you his name, so no it's safe to say I'm not into him.” You managed to undo the knot.

“Okay…” Duncan started, rubbing his sore wrists, while you planted some soft kisses on to his shoulder. “Can we take a shower now?”

“Of course baby.”