#damn my mum was right. i think too deeply about things

[itsalwaysforyou]

jay not asking coach about letting lonnie onto the team bc he doesn’t want to do anything coach might disagree with…….

[lilyevanstan1325]

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 1

I drag myself with difficulty to the edge of the long road that stands in front of me.

My senses are on alert as I move slowly but decisively towards the trees on my right.

I feel too exposed here, the trees will give me a little more shelter from prying eyes and teeth ready to bite me.

I blink violently as the sunlight blinds me, burning my clear eyes.

Mum always told me "Clear eyes are delicate, always protect them"

And I, who was only five years old, snorted impatiently while, with a very sweet smile, she placed a pair of sunglasses on my nose and then kissed the tip making me giggle.

I have always loved my green eyes just because they are the same as my mother's, they are the only thing that reminds me that she existed.

I have nothing left of her except an old photo, creased and worn by the tears I shed over it.

Every time I see my reflection, if I concentrate hard enough, I can see her in my features, I can pretend for a few moments that she is there in front of me.

Our resemblance is the only thing that constantly reminds me that she was a real part of a life that today no longer belongs to me.

Emerald eyes.

That's how dad called her.

I can still hear his voice as he whispers those sweet words to my mother.

I sigh thinking about how much they loved each other.

They have always been my example of true, pure and strong love.

They are what I aspire to or rather what I dreamed for myself before.

Now there is nothing left, only death and despair.

I look around looking for a slightly shadier spot but without great results.

The heat is increasingly unbearable, especially at this time of the afternoon.

Not that I have a watch with me but from the position of the sun in the sky I'm pretty sure it was a few hours after noon.

I breathe deeply and the hot air burns my nose, my lungs.

The heat burns my throat, corroding every clear thought.

Damn…

I didn't know Georgia was so damn hot.

I mean, even though I am walking in the depths of the forest, the sun gives me no respite, it infiltrates the branches and leaves with unprecedented violence.

It's like it wants to constantly remind me “Hey bitch I'm here, I know where you are.You can't escape me"

The jeans I'm wearing fit like a second skin, making me sweat even more profusely while the white t-shirt I'm wearing has noticeable, and if I had been in the company of other human beings, embarrassing patches of sweat near the armpits and along the entire back.

Let's say the smell I give off isn't the best.

For a fraction of a second my vision blurs, slowing down my already limping and clumsy pace.

The sounds around me become muffled.

I no longer hear the cicadas singing in the heat of this desolate and cursed land.

Without realizing it, I stop and rest my hand against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark scratches my palm but I barely feel the pain.

Nowadays I feel numb to everything.

I no longer feel anything except the inexorable passage of time.

Forty-two days, I think as my vision comes and goes, repeatedly showing me white points of light on my black boots.

That's how long I've been wandering.

Forty-two damn days.

On my long journey to Atlanta I encountered few living people but many, too many, dead.

Fucking biters.

I tried to keep a low profile, only killing them when I really couldn't help myself.

My only weapons are my trusty knife and a machete found in an old abandoned car near Charlotte.

As for the living, well...in that case I avoided them as anyone would avoid STI.

Or the biters.

It depends on your point of view.

But the thing that amazes me is that I have never met his men.

Or him.

Maybe they didn't think I would run away south.

Or maybe they never looked for me.

Why should he commit his men, in his opinion his most precious resources, to look for me?

Maybe there was a time when he would have turned the world upside down to find me but in the last few weeks he had grown colder.

It wasn't him anymore.

Without feelings.

No hugs, no sweet words.

Only barked orders, half-hearted phrases.

As if I were another one of his stupid men and not the most important woman in his life, as he used to call me.

It is as if he had convinced himself that his love for me made him weak in the eyes of others, as if love me made him vulnerable and therefore less credible or reliable as a leader.

I feel my legs give out, my knees tremble, forcing me to kneel on the hard ground.

I bring the hand that isn't busy gripping the tree to my head, as if this gesture could ease my pain.

The same excruciating pain in my head that hasn't left me for days now seems to explode with ferocity, as if I suddenly found myself hanging upside down and all the blood was draining towards my brain, giving me the not so pleasant sensation of my eyes being forced out of my eye sockets.

In the midst of this ocean of pain I can hear the cawing of a crow that echoes throughout the forest, making me jump violently, making my heartbeat skyrocket.

I feel it beating so hard that I have the almost mathematical certainty that at any moment it could break through my ribs and come out of my chest.

The crow flies away with a rustle of wings, continuing on its way unaware of having almost caused me a cardiac arrest.

Another dizziness takes me by surprise, making me lose my grip on the tree and finding myself on all fours, my stomach shaking with violent spasms while empty retching fills my dry and sore throat.

I know what's happening.

I'm aware of it.

The problem is that I'm fucking scared of it.

I can't accept it.

After all, who could do it?

Who would be able to accept their death as if nothing had happened?

I feel my eyes burning but no tears appear.

My crooked mouth in a grip of perpetual pain burns, the dozens of small wounds that cover it bleed with every small movement.

I've learned to live with hunger, it's not as difficult as it seems.

The last time I think I ate was about two or three days ago.

I had found a small cabin in the woods, I think it was an old hunter's lodge.

With only a few hours of light ahead of me, I had decided to stop and set a small trap near my refuge for that night.

Maybe I would catch a disgusting possum or if I was really lucky a rabbit.

But instead, the next morning, the only thing I found was a little mouse.

Small, defenseless, gasping desperately with his little paw stuck in the trap.

He squealed forcefully, fighting for his life.

I still remember the tears of disgust at what I was about to do but it was for my own life.

For my survival.

I felt pathetic feeling sorry for a small and insignificant ball of fur but I think I saw myself in him.

Too small and defenseless for this world that is now too cruel and cowardly, destined to succumb but not therefore willing to give up.

I believe my sleep deprivation played a major role in my little mental breakdown.

An hour later I was sitting in front of a small fire, my hair glued to my neck from sweat and the remains of that little warrior on the ground in front of me.

“Mors tua vita mea” I found myself whispering while looking at those little bones.

Both of us, the little mouse and I, had only one mission, survive and there would be only one winner.

The failure of the little rodent guaranteed the achievement of my goal...surviving a few more days.

A rustle in the distance brings me back to the present.

I try to use every ounce of strength to concentrate all my energy on lifting my head, to at least try to understand where the noise is coming from, but by now dehydration is taking over, making me weak and exposed.

Vulnerable.

And in this world if you are vulnerable you are dead.

I lower my head in defeat, my forehead almost touching the dry leaves on the ground.

The smell of mold and musk tickling my nostrils.

My fingers dig into the ground with anger and frustration.

The sun continues to burn the back of my neck undisturbed, dulling my pale skin.

Some dirty strands escape from my bun and stick to my sweat-beaded forehead.

I am thirsty.

I'm literally dying of thirst.

And honestly it's a horrible death.

I finished my last water about five days ago.

For the next two days, after the end of that precious liquid, I drank my own urine twice.

I still remember the feeling of disgust, the tears rolling down my cheeks.

My head screaming at me not to do it while my body begged me otherwise.

I had to do it, I had no choice...

But then between the sweat and the lack of any other liquid even the urine disappeared and now I haven't drunk for almost 48 hours and my body can't take it anymore.

It's shutting down.

I am slowly and surely losing all functions.

Like I'm falling but I'm doing it in slow motion, I know I'll crash eventually and it'll be horrible but I can't do anything to help it.

I'm there, sitting in the front row watching my end.

Cool.

That rustling again.

I would like to get up, my instinct tells me to check what it is, to fight, but my body no longer responds to me.

It's like my brain has dissociated itself from everything else and told me “Hell no baby, I don't give a fuck, I'm done.Now it's your business"

Another round of retching knocks me out, forcing me to lie down on the ground, melting against it, with the dry leaves as a pillow.

I hear footsteps and I can't understand if they belong to a human being or to a biter.

The sounds are confusing, like everything else after all.

Thoughts become incoherent, and reality mixes with memories of the past.

“Come on my little girl, don't give up”

Is my daddy's voice?

The almost musical cadence of his voice makes my heart skip a beat.

Or is it just the palpitations due to dehydration?

Then another voice…

“Summer?Where are you my dear?"

Mom?

It's you?

Where are you?

Rolling onto my side and using the last of my strength I lie down onto my back.

Behind my closed eyelids I can perceive the intensity of the sun.

The sounds in my ears don't make sense, they come and go garbled and distorted.

Words, angry growls, whispers.

I believe my time has finally come.

The only regret?

Knowing that I came close, so close.

Atalanta is only a few tens of miles away and dying like this, devoured by some horde or simply devoured by my own thirst, sucks.

Dying sucks.

It's not how I imagined it.

It's certainly not like in the movies, that's for sure.

There is no last soft sigh, nothing romantic.

No cathartic moments.

No understanding of the meaning of life.

There is no flashback, no images of your life flashing before you.

Indeed...every breath is a stab, a slow torture that consumes your soul.

First, it fucks your brain and then he takes everything else.

An agony without grace.

Dying is not easy.

But despite everything I will die happy knowing that I tried in every way.

I tried to survive tooth and nail but in the end this world got the better of me.

A lone tear drips from my left eye.

Then the darkness.

Here, today, my journey towards a better life ends.

My run towards the freedom ends.

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@deansapplepie

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Art Credit: @/simibraun

Midnight Mum's

Headlights ran through the room you were sitting in. It was dark, save for the soft glow of the fire dancing around.

You stood up from the couch and peeked through the large living room window to see if it was your boyfriend getting home.

He had some friends from high school visiting and they all went out to catch up on life and all of its infinite happenings.

You could hear him laughing and talking as he built up to his goodbye.

"Yeah, yeah, my girl's prolly asleep by now. I'll hafta be quiet." Reiner said, way too loud.

His friends said something that you couldn't quite catch. But the way he responded to it, you assumed it was dirty.

You chuckled as you watched him stumble up the walkway to the door.

He bent over to ... tie his boot? No, he's picking a flower from his own garden.

"Oh my -- Reiner. You idiot." You said to yourself as you hurriedly closed the flue on the fireplace and jogged down the hall to your bedroom. You have no idea why you did this, but you wanted to pretend you were asleep when he got home.

His keys jingled in the door and then you heard it open as he kicked off his boots.

"Oh-kay, shhh, shhhh, shhhhh, Reiner. Baby is asleep. Ya gotta be qu- quiet. Ok. Where's the damn bathroom at. Why'd she move it. Pffffttt she can't move a bathroom. Duh, dipshit." He always talks to himself when he drinks. It's one of the things about him you find so sweet. Stupid, but sweet.

You hear everything. Him talking to himself. He doesn't say anything incriminating - not that you'd ever assume he would do something awful. He just talks about what he's doing. How he brushes his teeth, flosses and rinses out with the mouthwash that "burns like a bitch."

It makes your heart swell with love for him, these rare occasions he lets loose. He's usually your watchful eye. Always choosing to be the designated driver so you can embark on a little journey of self-indulgence.

You always make it up to him when you get home, though. So he never really complains.

"Shit, forgot to lay out something to sleep in. Au naturel it is, then. Hmph. Serves me right. Drunken asshole -" He chuckles softly to himself as he thinks he's sneaking quietly down the hall to get into your shared room.

When you heard him say he forgot to lay out something to change into for bed, you quickly ripped your clothes off. It wasn't anything special that you were wearing. Just an old t-shirt with some band he used to listen to on the front. Your panties weren't even that sexy. Cute, sure. But not sexy.

The door softly creaked open and you heard his breathing immediately after he stepped inside.

What you didn't expect was him standing beside the bed for a couple of minutes. You assumed he was looking at you, your bottom half covered and your top half for the taking.

His breathing changed, it quickened. It got deeper and a little faster.

Oh, how you wanted to roll over like he'd woken you. But you clung to what little resolve you had. Knowing he was just inches away from you, naked. Drunk. The thought of his fingers grazing over your skin was starting to turn you on.

"Hmm ... bed. Oh, oh god, fuck I love this bed. You did so good pickin' it out baby. S'soft. But like, firm. Firrrrrmmm and s'soffffttt. S'perfect, baby. Jus' like you. Mm-hmm. Jus' ... *yawn* ... like ... *stretch* ... you.

He rolled to his left side to throw his right arm over your exposed waist but when he did he 'accidentally' tucked it up under your breast.

You stirred a little. Rubbing your bare ass against his half-hard cock. You knew it was all for a reason. But he thought you were just being sweet, trying to cuddle up closer to him in your sleep. The way your body misses him after a long day of being apart from each other.

"Ohh ffffuhh-hoo. I'm home, baby. You snuggin' in close on purpose? Or you just wanna be closer to me? I missed you t'night. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout ya."

He tucked his face into the back of your neck and inhaled so deeply it made you shiver against him.

"Hey, you 'wake? Did'ja hear me? I missed ya, all night long. Wan'ned to call but my boys put a drink in my face everytime I mentioned your name. That's why m's'drunk. Heyyy, where are your clothes?"

Reiner reached down to let his hand graze your ass.

"Oh f- baby, you're ... you're not wearin' any clothes." He ran his hand across the warm skin and nudged your shoulder with his nose. Kissing in between breaths.

You rolled onto your back and put your right arm above your head, praying he wouldn't tickle you. This didn't feel like it was headed toward a tickle sort of night, though.

He accommodated your shift in position and scooted back a ways.

Laying there, just staring at you like he'd stumbled upon some beauty down at the hidden part of the beach. Lounging in the sun with no cover whatsoever.

"God, you're testin' me tonight. And I'm gonna fuckin' fail. So hard. M'gonna fail. But that's all right, 'cause t'morrow is a brand new day. I'll be better t'morrow. K? God? Thank you for this meal which m'bout to receive."

He ran his rough hands over your breasts to perk your nipples. "Oh god ... you're so fuckin' soft, baby."

You wanted to jump on him. You could feel how hard he was at this point. It was driving you crazy playing this game. And with who? Who were you playing with? Yourself? By yourself. Hoping there was still a way you could win, you moaned a little in your fake sleep state and threw your right leg over his left one.

Luckily, you often sleep tangled or splayed out on one another. So this probably seemed perfectly normal to him, how you laid just then.

"Thaaat's right, such a good girl. Even ready f'me in your sleep. Goddamn ..."

He ran his middle finger up the middle of your cunt, spreading your lips open just enough that he could dip his finger inside you.

"How - wh - you're s'wet, baby. You have some fun while I was out t'night? Or you just reactin' to me bein' this close to ya? Mmm, I wish you'd wake up."

Sucking your juices off of his finger he positioned himself right between your legs. Throwing both of your knees up over his broad shoulders, he grabbed you gently around the thighs and pulled you down a little bit.

"M'gonna have a midnight snack now, ok, baby? I need somethin' on my stomach ... other'n beer n'whiskey. You've been warned."

When Reiner said 'you've been warned', that usually meant 1 of 2 things: He was going to eat you like he'd die if he stopped or he was going to be so gentle and take his time with you so much so that you wouldn't know what the fuck to do with yourself.

You kinda hoped it was the latter. You missed him ... a lot. And you loved it when he came home to you after being apart. Whether it was for 9 hours or a week. You two always reconnected immediately.

It was one of your favorite things about being with him; how he always wanted to bridge the gap. No matter how large or small.

He started off lower than he usually does. Kissing your ankles and massaging your feet a little bit. You relaxed about the tickling. If he was going to tickle you at all, he'd have done it when you tossed your arm up and left your pit wide open. You weren't worried about your feet at all.

You did shift again, though, not much. Just opening yourself up further for him. As if subconsciously, like one of those dreams that seems too real, you made room for him between your legs.

"You're gonna wish you were 'wake for this, baby. I swear ... I'm only sorry m's'drunk. But I'll remember. Y'know what, doll, maybe I'll just set up my phone over there to record this. Jus' so I can show you later how good I made you feel in your sleep. Ahh, no. Then I'll have to move. I don't wanna move."

Reiner situated himself between your thighs, sucking and licking on both of them before he exhaled heavily on your wetter-than-it should-be-while-you're-sleeping cunt.

His breath made you moan a little. The soft heat of it all washes over your most sensitive spot. He looked up at you as his tongue met with your spread lips, licking such soft swipes on your clit.

You were almost out of your mind at this juncture. Watching him eat you out was almost spiritual. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his tongue over your pussy. It was so hard to keep quiet and not whip your eyes open to see his beautiful face stuffed in between your thighs.

He memorized the faces you made with how he moved his mouth. Reiner knew exactly what the fuck he was doing to you.

You were losing this little stupid game you were trying to play. Did he know you're awake? Is he doing this on purpose?

Words were right on the tip of your tongue while you were right on the tip of his.

How content he was, holding you open, lapping at your clit.

You were doing ok until he slid 2 of his calloused fingers into you. He prodded you with his fingers, feeling around for just ... the ... right ...

"Hmm, Rei'."

… spot. 

Oopsie.

"Heyyyy baby girl. There ya are. So sweet, waking up for me. Hi." He cooed. "I didn't think you'd ever wake up. But I got'cha. I know how to get'cha up."

He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, watching your face. You knew he'd never let you live this down and he knew you were awake the whole time.

"You're so good, Reiner. So good. You get me every time." You giggled and reached your hand out to the back of his head to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his face back down to your pussy.

He moaned against you as he licked and sucked on your clit. You felt like you were getting close already, he could tell. You were breathing heavily, you had your right hand on his head and your left hand over your mouth.

"Mm-mm. No coverin' up. Lemme hear ya." Reiner took your hand and laid it on his back, he put his right hand on your lower stomach to rub your clit with his thumb while he worked his tongue in and out of your pussy.

"Ahh, god. Reiner, I'm gonna cum, please -" You couldn't hold back anymore. You just needed to feel him.

He pulled his fingers out and moved his mouth over your opening, sucking and licking and moaning like he was the one getting the orgasm of a lifetime.

He kept it up until you came all over his tongue.

"That's my girl. Cum for me, baby. I love it. I love it." He whispered softly as you rocked against his mouth.

You weren't even tired. You didn't know what time it was but you knew it was late.

Reiner crawled up to you and laid beside you.

You rolled onto your side to face him.

"Hi." You said quietly, your body still feeling the effects of him working his magic on you.

"Hi yourself." He smiled, licking his lips.

"You tired?" You asked, walking your fingers around the hair just above his pelvic bone.

"Mm-mm. Not yet." Reiner leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips. It drove you crazy (in the best way, of course) how much he loved to taste you. You didn’t really understand and every time you bring it up, he just shakes his head and says not to worry about it. He “fucking loves it and that’s all that matters.” 

You reached down to wrap your hand around his cock, slowly stroking it. He closed his eyes and groaned in your ear.

"Fuck, baby. I want you so bad." He opened his eyes to look at you as you scooted down to lay between his legs.

You wasted no time, taking his entire length in your mouth. He bucked his hips up and let out a soft "ahhhh, fuck."

You bobbed up and down, running your tongue across the bottom of his dick. He grabbed a handful of your hair and held it back for you, so he could watch you work.

"I'm gonna cum, baby. Do you - do you wanna swallow or -"

You looked up at him and shook your head no.

"Ok. Ok." He was trying not to lose his cool. He was trying so hard.

You stroked him as you pulled your mouth off of him, licking the tip and smiling up at him.

"I want it ..." Reiner let out a long sigh as you climbed up his body and sank yourself down on top of his hard cock. "... here. Can you cum for me in here, Rei'? Please? It feels so fucking good when you cum inside of me."

You gave him your best innocent look as you began to ride him.

Reiner held onto your waist, bucking up into you and kissing your breasts as you bounced up and down on his cock.

He moaned your name as he felt himself getting closer to his peak.

"Oh, shi-. Oh baby, fuck..." he grunted and groaned as he came inside of you, filling you up and gripping your waist so tight it was like he was afraid to let you go.

"Stay with me, baby. Stay with me, right here, please." He whispered as he came down.

You laid on top of him, your head on his chest. You could feel his heart beating fast, and it made you smile.

He rubbed your back as you listened to his breathing slow down.

"I have something for you." He said softly.

"You mean more than what you just gave me?" You asked.

It was quiet for a minute.

"Mm-hm, s'over on the nightstand. I wanted it to be the first thing you saw in the morning. Well, after me, I mean." He gently guided you back down onto your spot in the bed and he climbed over your legs to reach for it.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Reiner." you said as you squeezed his ass.

"Oh, no. I know. It's really nothin'. Was just comin' home and saw it and I remembered the day we planted them in the front. I jus' wan'ned to give ya this."

He handed you a chrysanthemum and watched your face light up. 

“Doesn’t smell or look as pretty as you always do, but I,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked up at you from under his brows, “well, I just wanted to give this to you.” 

 Your heart was exploding in your chest.

You sat up to kiss him and he wrapped his arms around you.

You felt so safe and secure in that moment. You never want your time with this man to end.

"I'm gonna put this in water and then ... Do you want to try and get some sleep?" You asked, rubbing his arm.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you, baby. You're so sweet." He smiled and laid back on the bed as you walked over to the bathroom to rinse out a small vase.

You smiled to yourself as you put the single flower in the water.

You sighed happily as you stared at the flower on the nightstand and felt his grip on you tighten. 

You were going to cherish that memory for the rest of your days. Together. Him and you. Just like this. Just as it should be.

[sheyshocked]

If They Knew Me, They Wouldn’t Want Me (1/5)

Summary: Demoman works as a stripper and doesn’t want Soldier to know that. So of course he finds out in the worst way possible.

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Rated: E

Ship: RED Demoman/BLU Soldier

Warnings: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-esteem issues

Tags: Strippers & Strip Clubs, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Self-Esteem Issues, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

You can also read it on ao3!

Juggling three jobs was rough. Even without him mum constantly pestering him about being “lazy” and a “disgrace to his father, who worked twenty-six jobs just to provide for his family”. God, Tavish knew she meant well, but damn… If only she knew.

Don’t take him wrong. He loved each and every one of his occupations. Was pretty good at them, too. But sometimes, slaving for Mann Co. during the day, helping out at demolition sites at the weekends and holding a night job in the town was wearing him thin. Still, given a choice, he wouldn’t change anything. Being busy (and drunk) was good for him. It kept the bad thoughts at bay.

Not always, of course. He wasn’t that lucky. Every now and then, not even a shitton of booze and less than four hours a day of sleep was enough to keep him from recalling that night at the loch. Or the look of surprise on his best friend’s face right before he chopped his head off over and over again, and for what? Some shiny relic? Bah!

It’s true the WAR was long since over, and he and Jane had made up, once again meeting behind the backs of their enigmatic and cruel employers like nothing had happened, but the sad truth was that it did happen. And they could never take that back, no matter how hard they tried. The confusion, heart-break, betrayal, how much he missed his best mate every waking hour and loathed him at the same time…

But he shouldn’t be thinking about that. Not right now, when he was just about to climb into his car and drive off to his other job.

He felt kinda like a thief, sneaking off into the night. Thank goodness no one ever asked where he was going. Pfft, can you imagine? A guy who was hired to kill a bunch of other eejits for wearing the wrong color, embarrassed about having a side gig. He knew how ridiculous it sounded. Still, he couldn’t help himself. He liked his teammates, some more, some less, and they would never look at him the same again if they knew.

Same goes for Jane. If he were to somehow find out about this… Tavish would have no other choice but to crawl into some deep gravel pit and die. And that wasn’t him just being overly dramatic. Well, maybe a little bit. But he knew Jane. His beautiful, passionate Jane, how deeply he felt about things. The best possible outcome he could hope for would be a punch square in the jaw. The worst? Him stopping hanging out with him altogether. And he couldn’t have that. Not when he just got him back after years of fighting.

He would never let work tear them apart. Not again.

The alley was dark and deserted, like it usually was. Still, he took the time to check his surroundings, to see if he wasn’t being watched. Call it a professional deformation. But there was really no one there, maybe except for a few stray cats.

Calm once again, he knocked on the last door on the left. Once, twice, three times in a rapid sucession. He heard a rustle on the other side, then the door opened and a bouncer, a man almost as huge as their Heavy, ushered him inside. There, at the end of the corridor, he ran into an older guy in a tuxedo, who was just making a phone call. As soon as it ended, his attention turned to the newly arrived Demoman.

“Tavish, my boy! You’re here just in time! People are already lining up to see you perform tonight. You don’t want to disappoint them, do ya?”

“Eh, ye know me, Marcel. I wouldnae want tae keep them waiting.”

Marcel, the owner of the club, gave him a big grin and a friendly pat on the shoulder before sending him off to the backstage. Some of his coworkers were already there, getting ready for the main event. Most never wanted to talk, or even exchange pleasantries. Here, they were competitors, not a team. Still, it would be weird not to say hi to them. So he did, before making beeline to his vanity.

Time to get dressed.

The costumes, shiny and leaving little to imagination, were probably the most ridiculous part of this job. At some point, he even considered quitting because of it. Just looking at what he would have to wear for the night made him feel mighty self-consciouss. But the pay was good and Marcel kept telling him it would be fine, so he caved in.

“Oh, c’mon, big guy, people will love this, you have the perfect legs for it!”

“I don’t know if ye noticed, but I’m no bonnie lass! What sick bastard could possibly enjoy seeing me in knee-high boots and ton of make up?”

“You’d be surprised. Just give it a shot. You’ll see, trust me.”

He did. And people really loved it, for some reason. There were more of them every night. So much so that Marcel started calling him “his golden goose”. Eventually, Tavish became used to it. The only thing he drew the line on was the stupid pirate costume. That one hit way too close to home.

Tonight, the costume was pretty tame in comparison. A white shirt with some tight leather pants and lacy underwear. Simple and easy to remove. Perfect. He put it on in a hurry, leaving the top of the shirt unbuttoned. It always seemed to drive the customers mad.

Soon, the music started playing, a soft, upbeat tone. Everyone stopped doing whatever they were doing and turned to face the stage, where Marcel would announce the first three performers of the night.

“Now, give it up for our gorgeous and talented dancers – Skye, Travis and Blaze!”

A wave of clapping and cheering followed, loud enough it could be heard even behind the heavy curtain that separated them from the crowd. A gentle smile found its way on Tavish’s lips. Blaze was his stage name.

All right. Let’s get this show on the road.

But first, he gave poor Skye and Travis, twins who just started working at the club, a big thumbs up and a mouhed: ��Good luck, lads!” Why? Maybe because he remembered just how utterly nerve-wrecking his first shift was. He could certainly use a friendly face back then, and so did they now.

They flashed him a grateful little smile before they disappeared behind the curtain. With head held high and a sultry grin that spelled confidence (which he didn’t feel deep down, but he learned to act like he did – the more cocksure he seemed, the more tips he would get), he followed after them.

Funnily enough, but as much as he dreaded it at the beginning, he came to love the moment when he stepped into the light of the reflectors. It helped that with a bit of practice, he turned out to be a damn good dancer. Nearly as good as he was at making things explode. The way the crowd was cheering him on as he slowly, ever so slowly took off his clothes to the beat of the music… it made him feel desired. Stupid, he knew, but he couldn’t help himself.

Those people down there, when they looked at him, they didn’t see a black Scottish cyclops with a severe drinking issue. They had no idea that the eye patch wasn’t just for the show, that he wasn’t faking the accent or that he was sloshed more often than not. For them, he was just a nice, muscular body to admire.

That was more than he could ever hope for.

As his pants slid to the floor (he never got fully naked on the stage – that was for private shows and lap dances only), he tried not to remind himself of the sheer number of scars he just uncovered for everyone to see.

A monster, an one-eyed monster, his mind kept screaming at him, but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of an applause and his own beating heart.

***

The night went spectacular as always. He certainly couldn’t complain about not having plenty of customers singing him praises and asking for lap dances. Got more than a few generous tips, too. So why did he feel like something was crushing his chest?

By now, he was no stranger to this strange, empty void that enveloped his heart. It usually came after a long night at work. But it would be fine. He just needed to have a drink or two and tomorrow he’s going to town with Jane. That always used to cheer him up a little bit.

[swimmingenthusiasty]

My idea of living the correct way.

Is this abstinence, wife based chastity, sweater at work, right after I take the kids to school.

The morning is chilly and cool, and I am, too. As long as no men walk by...

I'm solemn as my quran and cigarette smoke.

And my sex, my relationship to my sex is...

One of absolutes, ultimatums, punishments, unsympathetic, costly-sacrificial, binding, damning, the end, criminal- like I got away with something for having some sex, snare-by the villainous devil-like he'll come out slow clapping from behind a bush right after a human cums-and the VR matrix will fall away.

and the human will just be in a concrete room with no salvation or redeeming -huh..I didn't think the Quarnic description of hell had sunk so deep into me-that I really believe it unconsciously-and heaven too I guess-I believe deeply in heaven-I didn't think I did.

I treat myself in the same way that I think the Islamic God treats men. Joking about a sex change for just being seen naked. The Islamic God is fond of cutting stuff off and of burnings.

So I'm kind of... deeply affected by those awful words.

It wasn't really a joke. It was telling of how I feel about sex and about mankind in general... Ick.

Wait, that did happen, though. I lost an eye, and by every account was on fire in a concrete room.

Happened at the other place, too. The scorn. No trouble, and only politeness would have come if I lived like Santa Claus.

Oh, and the spiritual stuff. It's bad for the world. Protect my energy. Pick the right one, not everyone's ready, most people have work to do.

Lots of stuff happened, though. It's also in how you handled it. That won't happen anymore. The same thing wouldn't happen if you had it right now. Most stuff, if you had just dropped it and loved them anyway. You would save everyone. Loved them like you were yourself anyway. Been your best self anyway. Like yourself with the closest person to you. That's you, by the way. Treat everyone like you treat yourself.

Best advice my mum ever gave me. Treat everyone like they're close to you, and you have always known them.

Confusing. Too much to think about.

The same thing happens if I rationalise my love for men as interest in men. When that starts. It never stops. I'de be rationalizing forever and ever and for everything, from myself to the world without end...

But if I just want them.

The point is you want those guys, even if you looked alike. Even if you worked out, too. Even if you kept your guard up.

You want them to wake up with. You want them in bed. All the details about them don't really matter. All the sex stuff... you have to be there... and you have to be in bed... and if you're happy enough. I bet most of the time, that's all you would do.

You could have sex and you could get food. But the sleep is what you're after? That's the point?

Love men, that's the point.

Lots of women around, though... same thing pretty much...

When I love one, I'll pull out a ring. The first one I love, like I do a man.

[pharawee]

Every week I think, yep, Big Dragon - favourite show right there. But then the next episode is even better than the last one and here I am, with five gifsets in one evening and ideas for about a dozen more. I'm truly living my best life, even if my version of photoshop is waging a constant war against Windows 11 🥲

But on to this week’s episode review:

This episode is aptly titled Good Old Days, and there’s so many flashbacks and memories and little stories being told. It’s all woven together so well. It even comes with its own red thread of fate.

It all starts with a flashback of a flashback and we learn two things almost immediately: Mangkorn’s really close to his mum and she knows about her son’s crush. Being the amazing mother that she is, she approves.

Her son has his eyes on the Moon of Business Administration, after all (what a catch!).

That his crush goes back to their first year of uni didn’t really shock me because the reveal is pretty much the same as in the book (which has even more of an enemies to lovers vibe - honey, stop punching your future boyfriend just so you can be near him). I’m actually really happy that they kept this part in because I really liked the “plot twist” (hey, it counts as a plot twist if there’s hardly any plot). They even hinted at their whole rivalry only being a thing because Mangkorn kept hanging out at Yai’s Faculty and everyone thought he was there to “steal” girls (when in reality he was there to make heart eyes at Yai). 

Mangkorn fell first AND he fell harder. This is it, this is the whole show.

Well, a big part of it anyway.

And speaking of Big.

I’m definitely not immune to older characters kneeling down to tend to their lover’s shoes/feet. There’s just something almost reverent about it. An unwritten rule that is broken because someone just cares so very deeply.

If only Nine knew about the colour-coding in Big Dragon, then he’d realise that Yai's wearing a red jacket and that’s Mangkorn’s colour. He never stood a chance.

But I loved this repeat of a similar shot in episode 2, when Mangkorn and Yai meet in the hospital:

Nine is even wearing the same kind of shoes that Yai usually prefers. He truly is the embodiment of Yai’s comfort zone - which makes Nine’s metaphor about well-worn, comfortable shoes so fitting. Only that Yai is very direct in saying that he sees Nine as an older brother only.

Which is why I don’t get why he’s kissing Nine back for a full minute in slow motion and several different camera angles, but hey, it’s Big Thanakorn. I don’t blame him (Star Hunter, I beg you, give this man his own show! It’s been 84 years etc).

Maybe this is why Nine refuses to read the room even after Yai tells him to never do it again. 

Enter the yin & yang pendant Yai conveniently loses as a kid while playing with - gasp! - Mangkorn (negl I’m not a fan of the whole “I’ve loved you since we were children” trope but I get why they included it here). 

But the red thread of fate it’s hanging from is even more obvious, and it weaves its way through the entire episode, thereby connecting the past and the present - and binding together Mangkorn and Yai.

Meanwhile, in the present, Mangkorn contemplates doing his Master’s abroad - something he obviously didn’t plan for as long as he thought he had Yai in his life (no, really, was he like “no, I can’t go to New York. There’s this crush I fight every day at his Faculty building. Clearly I can’t go!”).

Oh, and apparently he’s told everyone - and I mean everyone! - about his crush on Yai. He’s told his Mum. He’s told Ajo. He’s told Hong. They’re all rooting for him! At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if he told his professors, too (which will come in handy once he withdraws from the program). This is just so damn adorable.

Too bad Yai won’t have any of it.

This scene is incredible in so many different ways, though.

It’s set in an empty room, one side red, the other a murky green, all strict vertical lines that can’t be crossed. The room is a piece of their past, a (messed up) memory that Yai wants to destroy, while Mangkorn (as part of his job as an intern) wants to preserve it. He clings to “their story” in the same way.

But Yai has a different story to tell. It’s shown through a mirror and it’s really unnerving, the way it makes Yai almost irrecognisable (and this is all Mangkorn gets to see - he doesn’t see how much Yai struggles with his emotions, too).

If only Yai knew how close he is to the truth, though. Mangkorn has wanted to get close to Yai for years, even though it hurt him. And now Yai is telling him to “stop fighting”. Ouch.

It’s the little nod he gives right at the end that absolutely kills me dead. And even before that, the whole scene is so different from every other conversation they’ve had so far. There’s no argument, no back and forth, not even any kind of miscommunication. 

It’s the way Mangkorn is literally fading into the background.

Good thing there’s still the red thread of fate.

And it’s interesting how Mangkorn is shown approaching the cruel mirrored version of Yai to return it to him - like he’s breaking through his barriers.

Yai, through the power of instant flashback, understands immediately.

And I love how later, when he lashes out at his father and his father’s girlfriend, the camera lingers on their reactions even after Yai has already left. He’s literally blind to the hurt he’s causing in his own distress. He’s accusing his family of being cold without his mum, but of course it is. That’s what grief does. That’s what it turns into when it isn’t shared.

Because of course his father has already visited his late wive’s grave first thing in the morning. But what good is that to Yai when he’s never seen his father grieve? No wonder he thinks him cold.

And now it’s Mangkorn’s turn to wear green as he makes up his mind (good thing he’s told everyone about his love life - that certainly makes it easier to seek advice).

While Yai, surrounded by red, is allowed to heal:

And the red thread comes full circle.

And maybe I’ve cried for ten minutes straight after I’watched this scene.

Anyway.

Nine. You’ve talked about this. How is this brotherly? What are you even doing here?

Now it’s Hong’s turn to give advice (good thing Mangkorn has told everyone) and maybe she and Nadear won’t have to elope to the UK after all, like they did in the book (but Star Hunter, consider this: it’d be very cute), because looks like they’re going to tell the dads to get with the times. Oh, yes, and Mangkorn looks very pretty as he finally dares to choose:

Also, finally someone who’s not completely oblivious to their students talking loudly in class. NatureBL is healing.

The green jacket! The soft lighting! The red brick and green leaves! 

And I wonder how many times Mangkorn has daydreamed about this exact scenario🥺

I’ll leave you with this brand new reaction image because you deserve it after reading through all of this. Thank you Jame, thank you Jet, thank you unknown third guy who I’ve never seen before.

[m-jelly]

hi jelly, im so happy you opened up requests <3 i believe i saw somewhere that Megara is one of your favorite disney characters (and I loveee "I won't say I'm in love") so when this tik tok popped up on my fyp i thought it would be a cute idea! in the video, Levi is reciting some of the Hades lines, so I thought...what about a fic where Levi and reader are best friends for many many years, are super close and what not, and he is nagging her about a guy she just met but secretly its because he has the biggest crush/in deeply in love with her...and then the fluffy spicy (or whatever you wish lol) goodness begins :D

i hope you are taking time for self care & thank you for all the time you put into sharing your writing with us!! <3

I LOVE Hercules like really love. I used to have it on VHS as a kid and play it on repeat all the time. I even had a Meg doll. I just adored it. I was too little to play the Ps1 game, so I have fond memories of watching my mum play it <3

He's a guy!

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Romance, confessions, love, friends to lovers, sex, Levi fucks his feelings into you, becoming a couple.

Concept: You and Levi have been friends for a long time and he's always loved you. You've always loved Levi, but you never thought he loved you back, so you've been trying to find love elsewhere. As he hangs out with you at your house, you talk to him about a guy you think is "different" But Levi doesn't see that. As things get heated between you both, the words turn to sex and passion. Afterwards, you both talk about how deep your love is for each other.

Inspired by the Hercules scene!

18+ material below. Minors do not interact.

You felt so frustrated as you paced in Levi's living room. "I think he's wonderful. I mean, I think I could be happy here."

Levi looked up at you and felt pissed off that yet again you wanted another man. "I can't believe you're getting so 'worked up' about some guy."

You turned to Levi. "This one is different. He's honest and he's sweet."

Levi rolled his eyes. "Please."

You pouted at your friend. "He'd never do anything to hurt me!"

"He's a guy!"

You paused a moment. "You always do this. Every time I talk to you about a guy that could be wonderful you just shit on it all."

He sat back. "Because not a single guy you've told me about has been this dream man you told me about. All guys are the same."

You laughed a little. "Including you?"

"Of course! I have hidden agendas and everything, we all do."

You walked up to Levi. "Okay, what the fuck is yours then? If you want to be so honest with me about how crap guys are, then you tell me what's wrong with you."

He stood up. "What's wrong with me? I've been madly in love with my best friend for years and not said a damn thing."

You stared at Levi. "You...you love me?"

"With all my heart and soul."

You welled up. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He sat down. "Because I'm a guy."

You sat with him. "I...Levi...I have loved you too, but I didn't think you wanted me."

"Tch, you kidding me?" He held your hands. "Who wouldn't want you?" He leaned closer. "You're sweet, cute, funny, smart, creative and wonderful. I love you."

You smiled. "I love you."

He kissed you and hummed. “You taste so good.” He kissed you more. "Bedroom?"

You nodded. "Yes."

He lifted you up and carried you to your room. He slowly pulled your trousers off and then threw them across the room. He noticed your legs were pressed together; your knees pulled towards you. He placed his hands on your knee and gently ran his thumbs on your skin. “Are you afraid of me? Afraid that I’m using you?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I love you. I trust you as well. After all these years we've known each other, you've been wonderful.”

He kissed your knee. “I'm glad you're not scared. If you are, I'd stop right away. You mean the world to me."

You blushed. "I do?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"You really want me?"

"The number of nights I’ve laid awake and imagined being between your legs. I just want to hold you, make you feel pure heaven over and over.”

You whined a little as he massaged your skin, you slowly opened your legs from him as a shiver ran through him, you wanted him so much it was driving you crazy.

“I want to know what noises you make.” He pushed his hands down the outside of your thighs, then held your underwear and dragged them down. “And what your buttons are” He threw your underwear to the side, then he moved your legs over his shoulders, then he leaned down slowly. You shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on your thigh. “Here?” He lightly kiss as you hummed, then he moved closer, his lips dragging against your skin. “Here too.” He moved a bit higher and closer to your clit, he lightly blew on your skin, then kiss. You raised your hips slightly and shivered. “Here seems best.” He bit down on the sensitive spot, you gripped the sheets and hummed, you moaned as he swirled his tongue over the mark. He pulled away, then looked up at you. “Beautiful.”

You blushed and covered your face with your hands, then giggled. “How is it possible? You only have to nip and kiss me and I’m a gooey mess.”

He kissed his way up to your hip bone, then nipped it. “Maybe because you love me and I love you.”

You hummed in delight. “I do love you so much, but I also think you have a hidden talent.”

“Thank you.” He slipped his hand over your stomach and pressed down. He squeezed your thigh to comfort you, he could tell you were a little nervous and shy still. He loved that about you, how one minute you were confident and saying very rude jokes, then the next you were all cute and shy on him blushing away. You were everything to him, his adorable, cute, strong, brave and funny best friend.

Levi had been thinking and dreaming of this moment for so long. He licked up your pussy and felt you jump, he soothed you with his hand, he was letting you know you were safe. He licked again and felt you relax a little at his touch, he smirked a little, he felt pride in you wanting him now.

He pressed his tongue flat this time, then slowly licked up your pussy in a teasing manner. You moaned at him in delight, he was loving this so much. He focused on your clit and gave it a tiny lick. You bucked a little at him, he’d found one of the best buttons. You reached your hand down as he lightly teased your clit, then you clasped his hand on your tummy.

He tested out different patterns on your clit, he wanted to know what you loved. When he heard you mewl and moan the most, he made note of them in his head to do them always. As soon as he had a collection of new patterns, he used them one after another on you.

You gripped his hand hard; you arched your back and began panting. You couldn’t believe how good Levi was with his tongue. You hummed at him, then shifted your legs. He glanced up at you, then took your clit into his mouth and sucked. You whined and whimpered at him; it was good, too good. You squeezed your legs against his head.

He shifted his hand from your thigh to your pussy. He moved a slender finger up and down to comfort you, to make you relax a little. He pressed his finger into you slowly, he felt you squeeze him in delight.

You moaned his name and moved your hips. He pressed inside you, then when you didn’t react the way he wanted you to, he moved his finger and pressed again. You yelped a moan at him. He smirked after finding your g-spot. He pulled his finger out, then pressed two into you. You panted and wined at him, a fire coursing through every inch of you.

You rocked your hips to his movements; you squeezed your hand and moaned his name over and over. Your legs were beginning to shake, your body bubbling in bliss. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes tightly. You squeezed your toes, but you couldn’t hold on any longer. You felt the snap and the rush of pleasure go from your pussy and all the way through your body.

Your body relaxed, completely. You’d never felt this relaxed in so long. You lay there, body limp as you panted and enjoyed the last bits of pleasure fading away and Levi helping you ride out that pleasure.

Levi pulled from you, he licked his fingers and his lips, then crawled up your body and kissed you. You hummed and tangled your finger in his hair, you tugged a little earning you a little growl from him. You smiled at him, then pulled from his lips.

You rolled over onto him and sat up. You smiled down at him. “That was so worth the wait.”

He smiled at you and ran his hands up your thighs. “It was.”

“Buuuuut.”

“But?”

You leaned down and giggled. “It’s not over yet handsome.”

“Exciting.”

You hummed and leaned over to the bedside drawer and found your condom supplies. You sat up and folded your arms. “So, do you want me to?”

He shook his head. “A woman gave me oral before and I hated it so much, it’s so dirty. So no.”

"Oh, I remember you telling me that, you were freaking out about it." You smiled. “It’s okay, I won’t do anything you don’t want. Communication is key, right?”

He sat up and nodded. “Right.” He kissed and nipped your neck making you giggle. “So, want to know what’s on my mind?”

You nodded. “Please.”

“I want you naked under me moaning my name.” He purred and growled against your ear making you shiver. “I want to be inside you.”

You kissed Levi roughly, your body grinding against his. “I want you too.”

You tucked the condom in your bra, then you looked down and pulled Levi’s trousers down. You jumped off him and the bed then whipped his trousers and boxers off. You looked up and blushed at finally seeing his hard length, you gulped and licked your lips. You'd always been curious what the fuss was about and why so many women wanted him back, now you knew.

Levi took the condom off you. “I’ll do this because I’m afraid if you touch me I might not last.”

You giggled. “I’m honoured you think I’m so alluring.”

He let out a shaky breath after pulling down the protection on himself. “You have no idea what you do to me. I still can't believe we're finally...I mean...we were friends all this time and we're...I'm excited."

You moved closer on your knees and straddled him. You sat down so his hard penis ran along your pussy, he sucked in air between his teeth. You hummed and began rocking against him. “I think your lovely words and looks let me know.” You bit your lip. “And the very, very hard cock against my pussy lets me know.”

He ran his hands up your side and moaned. “So good…you feel so good.”

You dotted his face with kisses, then raised up and let out a sigh as your body ached and craved for what was next. “Levi?”

He gulped and held your hip and his dick, then he guided you as you slowly lowered down onto him. You held your breath and hummed as just the head was in. You closed your eyes and focused as your body tingled. You sighed and opened your eyes and slowly pushed down. Levi looked up at you, mouth slightly open as he moaned at you. You lowered yourself fully on him and took him all. Your body squeezed him in delight, he just felt so good.

You tapped your forehead against his and smiled. “I’m so happy we’re together like this.”

He smiled at you. “I’m so excited to be with you. Loving you for all these years...I'll never stop loving you.”

You smiled and undid your bra, then you slipped it off and dropped it off the bed. “Me too.”

He growled and leaned forwards and captured a bit of your breast in his mouth. You held the back of his head and hummed in delight. You rocked your hips against him making him bite a little harder. You moaned and sighed, then rocked your hips a little faster. Levi felt good, he felt really good inside you. You loved Levi, you really loved him, so you hoped he loved you just as much. It was just crazy to think that a few minutes ago you were just friends, but not you were riding his cock.

Levi held your hips firmly, then began moving you up and down on him. You hummed and whined a little, it felt good, too good. You placed your hands on his shoulders, then leaned back a little and moved with him. Your body began to tingle again in delight, with every movement up and down, you felt a little surge of pleasure.

You moved one of your hands to tangle in Levi’s hair, you pulled his head away from your chest stopping him from covering your breasts in little love bites. You looked down and saw so many, but you didn’t let it bother you right now. You lifted Levi’s head up, then whined at him a little. He smiled at you, then captured your lips in a loving kiss. You sighed at the kiss, like everything was perfect now he was kissing you.

Levi squeezed your hips, then bucked up to meet your movements. You whined and moaned at him, the roughness of his actions setting your body on fire. He angled your hips and thrusted hard and heard a moan he thought was heavenly. He repeated his actions over and over.

You squeezed him hard, you shuddered and clenched up, your body was on fire. Levi kissed your chest all over, then your neck. He smiled against your skin, then moved his hand down and rubbed your clit. You shook in his hands, then felt a snap in your body. You moaned and felt the warmth a trickle through you.

You flopped against Levi, then grinded your hips against him as you carried on enjoying the pure bliss. He wrapped his arms around you, then turned you around and lay you on the bed. He played with your hair, then kissed your face all over.

You hummed in happiness, then opened your eyes to look at Levi. You cupped the side of his face, then pulled him into a kiss. He rocked his hips slowly into you, you moaned and mewled at him in delight. Your nails dragged down his back lightly, this only encouraged Levi to buck more into you. You whined at him, you wanted more, just a bit more.

You rocked your hips to meet his. You nipped his lip, then deepened the kiss more. You smiled and felt your heart flutter in delight, you wished Levi would kiss you for forever, it just made you feel so loved and wanted by him.

He ran his hands up your arms, then slammed them above your head. He pulled from your lips, smiled at you, then looked down at you as he slammed his hips hard into you. You cried out and pulled the most beautiful face riddled with pleasure. Levi growled at you, then began repeating his actions.

He glanced down at your chest to your breasts, he sped up a little and watched your perfect mounds bounce. He growled more, then squeezed your hands tightly. To him your body felt amazing, he couldn’t believe how good you felt. Your moans and face were the best thing about this all, you looked so wonderful.

He let your hands go, then knelt up and held your hips up a little. He grinded into you at first and watched your face a moment. You had a happy smile, like you had a gentle pleasure in your body. He increased his speed and got a little rough with you, he was being just a little possessive with you, after all you did recently talk to him about another man.

He squeezed your hips hard, so much so that it was going to leave marks on your lovely skin. You reached out for Levi, then grabbed his wrists as he held you. You moaned and arched your back, this roughness felt divine, but you weren’t sure what set Levi off. You just knew you had to hold onto him for dear life.

Levi let your hips go and lowered his whole weight onto you, he’d shown you his possessiveness and jealousy, but now he wanted to shower you with love. He tangled his fingers in your hair, then kissed your face all over as his body dragged against yours as he grinded against you. His body rubbed perfectly against your sensitive skin, as well as your clit. He kissed along to your neck and saw an area he hadn’t yet mark.

He kissed your neck, then sucked and nipped at your skin making you moan his name. Your body clenched around Levi, your nails dug into his back more which were bound to leave marks on him, but he wouldn’t care, he’d wear them with pride. In fact, Levi would love it if you nipped and bit his neck and made your mark on him, but that would have to wait because he was too occupied by marking your neck.

You whined at him. “Levi.”

He pulled from your neck, then kissed you and hummed. He could feel you were near your end and he was close to his. You wrapped your arms around him, fingers in his hair and other hand on his back. You kissed along his jawline, then nipped a little making him buck hard. You gasped at his action, then kissed to his neck. You licked a bit of his neck, he growled at you, then bucked into you hard and fast, he tried to maintain a rhythm, but he was so close and wanted you to finish first.

He angled his hips and instead of rubbing the spot within you, he just slammed into it. You bit down hard onto Levi’s neck, then felt the snap inside you. You enjoyed and moaned at the rush of pleasure surging through your body, you shook slightly. Your mind went blank, your hearing zoned out as you just enjoyed the pure euphoria.

Levi whined a little as you let go of his neck to moan. He gripped the sheets by your head, then moaned your name as he felt his release shake his body. He slowed the rocking of his hips, then lay against you and panted against your neck. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling throbbing away in him, the feeling of being within you just for a little longer.

He sighed, then pulled out of you causing you to hum so sweetly. He kissed your cheek loads. “I love you.”

You smiled and opened your eyes, then looked at Levi. “I love you too.” You hugged him and giggled. “I can’t believe it. After all these years we finally confessed and went right to screwing."

Levi blushed. "Tch, I'm sorry brat. I didn't mean to rush things, but when we finally confessed to each other, I just had this built up desire for you."

You cupped his face. "I don't regret it. I really loved what we did and I can't wait for more."

He kissed you and hummed in delight. "I need to go clean, but we're cuddling after."

"Perfect." You laughed as he ran off a little excited and cleaned up in your bathroom. You joined him and went to the toilet. "So, you really want me?"

He waited for you to clean your hands. "Yes."

"Really, really?"

He picked you up making you squeal with laughter. "Of course. I love you to death." He carried you to bed. "I am going to spoil you every day of your life." He tucked you into bed and slipped in next to you. He held you in his arms and covered your face in kisses. "I love you." He lifted your head and said your name as he locked eyes with you. "I love you so much."

You smiled and welled up a little. "I love you too. I think our friends are going to shout finally, huh?"

"You know it." He squeezed you. "I don't care about them right now. I only care about you and being with you. You're my forever."

"Mine too."

[itgirlification]

supermodel (3) | jjk

when you asked jungkook to come over, you didn’t expect it to end this way.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, spitting, face slapping, spanking, etc.

now playing: stuck on you by giveon

part one part two

“I just didn't feel like you were ready for a relationship. You still aren’t.”, He said. “Not ‘cause you’re a bad girlfriend, it's because you’re so bad to yourself.”

After the party, you decided to message Jungkook and ask him to come over to talk things through, since there was too much between you unanswered. Now that’s exactly what you’d been doing for the past 15 minutes.

You admired his honesty even though it hurt you.

You were about to open your mouth, but Jungkook made a hand motion to let you know he wasn’t finished talking.

“Do you know how I felt when you always looked down on yourself, always picking fights because you’re too damn insecure to realize that I was only looking at you?”

You looked at him, wondering if he was expecting you to answer so you just shook your head no. You didn’t know how he felt.

Throughout the entire timeline of your relationship, he hadn’t even tried to tell you he was feeling like this once.

Jungkook sighed, clearly not trying to hurt you with what was going to come. “It just made you hard to love. I didn't feel fully loved in our relationship, because if you had so many issues loving yourself, how were you supposed to love me?”

Realizing you’ve never thought about it in that way, you made an astounding facial expression, before finally talking. “But we aren't the same, Jungkook. You’re so easy to love. But I’m not. I’m flawed and I don't think I deserve to have you in any way. Please don’t think I never loved you. It hurts me.”

He jabbed his cheek with his tongue and gazed at you in disbelief. “You missed my point. I’m telling you, you shouldn't be looking for a relationship if you can’t love yourself first.”

Now you were getting a little irritated at him. “Well, that’s easier said than done. You don’t understand what it feels like having people constantly body shame you and having a conventionally attractive partner and people telling you you’re too ugly for them, you don’t deserve them. You don’t get it, because you are the attractive one in the relationship.”

With his clenched jaw and the tightened expression on his face, you knew Jungkook wasn’t having it. “Oh, you know that’s a typical move for you, yn. You love victimizing yourself and being blind to your own faults, acting like everybody else around is doing everything wrong when you don’t even let them express their honest feelings to you. You’re unbearable to talk to, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. Because I’m confessing my fears and my vulnerability to you it’s hard talking to me, right? Like I didn’t spend a total of like what, a year? listening to your sob stories about your childhood trauma and your daddy issues and your drug problems and I didn’t even say a thing about it. I never complained.”, you hollered at him, unfortunately, your anger was getting the best of you.

You were aware of the fact that you shouldn’t have mentioned your ex-boyfriend’s childhood, let alone his unhealthy relationship with drugs. You knew it was his weak spot, but you did it out of anger, you couldn’t control it.

You remembered the first time Jungkook teared up in front of you while talking about how his father mistreated and abuse him and his mum and how he started abusing drugs at the age of 16.

“Jungkook..”, you moved closer to him after noticing his silence, trying to put a hand over his shoulder. He rejected you by shaking your hand off.

“Nah, don’t ‘Jungkook’ me, you know what you did, don’t try blaming it on the fact that you’re mad at me right now.”, He hissed with flaring nostrils. “That’s what you’ve been wanting to tell me ever since I opened up to you, don’t lie.”

You felt deeply ashamed of the fact that you were getting aroused at the side of this messed-up Jungkook who was standing right in front of you.

Despite your arousal, your ex-boyfriend’s statement had hurt your feelings. You didn't want him thinking that of you, you wanted him to know you supported him and wanted to be his shoulder to cry on. For him to know he could always call you.

“Jungkook, that's not true at all”, your voice softened and you sat yourself on one of his thick thighs, gently taking his face into your hands. “You know I love you and I’m just frustrated, that’s the only reason why I said that. You can talk to me about anything.”

You started to lightly grind against his thigh, contemplating whether you wanted him to notice or you didn’t.

Jungkook started chuckling as he felt your pulse on his thigh. “You know sex isn't gonna solve all of our problems, right?”

His demeanor always changed when he'd notice you were needy. One thing about your relationship you never complained about was your sex life.

“I know, but it would solve a lot of them right now”, you breathed out, grabbing a handful of his dick, making him hiss.

“I don't think you deserve dick after what you said.”, Jungkook looked at you with a serious gaze. “Stand up.”

You were confused at his sudden demand but obeyed regardless.

“Now lay on my lap, facing down.”, He demanded again and you did as he said.

Not knowing what was going to happen, you were just all up in his lap, trying to figure out what he was going to do. Your hair was wild as it went in all directions, while you were bent over.

Before you knew it, a firm hand was applied to your backside, giving it an unexpected slap. “I think you've been getting a little brave these days, hm?”

“Wha.. what do you mean?”, you sounded like you were gasping for air.

“Already outta breath when I barely touched you, huh?”, he chuckled at your desperate state before dragging his big hand along your ass cheek, teasing you before applying pressure and spanking it, causing it to jiggle. You loudly groaned at that.

“Shush, you’re lucky I’m only using my hand and not this belt.”, Jungkook said with a daring stare.

Your face felt flush and the burn you felt on your ass started getting pleasurable. You wondered what you looked like to Jungkook, bent over his knees like that. His spanks were getting heavier with every passing one.

“Jungkook, it hurts so bad”, you whined to him, your face burning.

He inhaled sharply and you assumed he was mad at you. “Didn't I tell you to shut up? Look at me.”

You turned your head to him, sitting on one of his thighs, which caused your ass to burn even more. Jungkook then cupped your cheeks rather harshly, collected enough saliva in his mouth, and spat on your face.

You bit back a moan, slightly startled. Jungkook always wanted sex to be as messy as possible.

He finally took off his shirt, revealing the tattoos that you loved so much. You started touching them, but Jungkook slapped your hand away and smacked you across your face.

You felt overheated by the intensity, also releasing yourself from your shirt, your black lace bra, and your tits spilling out of it. Jungkook thought it was a beautiful sight.

“I hate you”, you whispered stilly, feeling hazy.

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “Sweetheart, you might wanna speak up. Say that again for me.”

“I hate you for always making me feel like shit.”, you said dizzily as you adjusted yourself on his lap. He held your body effortlessly like you were a feather’s weight.

You started making out sloppily, not without him letting out small moans into your mouth that directly sent waves of arousal through your body.

“I hate you for always starting arguments and playing the victim.”, He breathed out between kisses, hands resting on your ass.

“I hate you for replacing me with that model when you know damn well where you belong.”

The make-out session became more intense with every second.

“I fucking hate you for thinking everything I do is to hurt you.”, he growled against your mouth, making a moan leave your mouth.

“Well, I fucking hate you f-“, you were about to come back at him, but he breathlessly interrupted.

“Shut up”, he groaned into your ear before shoving a hand between your legs and rubbing you.

The frustration in your body built up. “Jungkook, I need you..”

“Where do you need me?”, teasingly, he took his hands away from your pussy. “C’mon, use your big girl words.”

“Inside...”, you felt too dazed to complete a sentence. Jungkook’s hard dick under you was just adding to your frustration.

Before you knew it, he pushed your back onto the bed and ran his hands through his longer black hair before undoing the buttons on his black jeans and taking them off along with the shorts, and leaning forward to kiss you, his strong arms flexing as he did.

He lifted you up and you hook your legs around his small waist, still kissing him. He ran his tongue over your lips after biting them.

After gently throwing you onto the bed, Jungkook laid back and sat you down on his stomach.

You moved southwards and sank down onto his dick, moving back and forth, Jungkook watching his dick disappear into your body. To enhance things, he pulled your hips down a little harder.

Your heavy breathing and the occasional moans that left both of your mouths spread throughout the whole dorm. The pleasure was so intense, you couldn’t talk anymore. You were digging your long nails into his broad shoulders and his back. You were sure it left marks, but you couldn’t care to think about it.

Jungkook leaned in for another kiss, brushing your lips together and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Fuuck, I missed this.”

You kept on going back and forth and bouncing up and down on his dick. The two of you were out of breath.

His dick was buried deep inside of you as he thrusted in and out of your pussy, your hips met and you dug your nails in his back, losing your rhythm as both of your climaxes approached.

Hips stuttering as he fucked into you while your vision faded into black, time slowed just like his thrusts.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”, Jungkook warned beforehand in a grunt.

You nodded, indicating you’re cumming too. “Cum inside.”

He initiated eye contact with you to make sure you weren’t just saying that. You nodded.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt his warm liquid enter your body and fire pooling low in your abdomen from your own orgasm.

Positioning yourself on the bed, you stayed there with Jungkook in pleasant silence for a bit.

After a minute or two, the both of you had the energy to stand up again. You freshened up, then made your way to your bed, not before changing the sheets, of course.

Jungkook was in the bathroom for a few minutes, later then got out only wearing his shorts, leaving the rest of his clothes on your pile of dirty clothes you were gonna wash the next day.

“Goodnight.”, Jungkook pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, before jumping into the bed with you, covering his body with the blanket and scooping closer to you.

“You aren’t leaving?”, you tiredly croaked at him with big eyes to which he shook his head no and snuggled closer to you.

Your heart fluttered more with every second that passed. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

You knew that once you’d wake up and once she’d see you with Jungkook, a loud, disappointed Jane will be heard through the whole apartment complex. But you were too tired to care.

And lastly, when you fall onto the bed and peacefully fall asleep in his strong arms, you weren’t bothered by what's to come.

And so, the cycle continues.

_

taglist: @taeisbae13 @queenmasterxx @jkbangtan7 @jenotation @complicatedjules @gee-nee @tokyorm @yoonievrse @ggukkieland @laurynne5 @miinoongi @kb-bangtanenthusiast @1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @madygswich @chieftoadturkeynickel @pjmnoir

Thank you everybody for your support. I’m sorry it took such a long time but i got school and stuff. I thought it’d give jungkook at least one redeeming quality so this part wasn’t so depressing. Hope yall like it🖤🖤

[elles-writing]

Daughter Moments

Request: Hello! I’ve read your imagines they are sooo good! I was wondering if I can request a Kili x daughter reader? The ploy can be anything you want but the reader has to be kilis daughter pls? Thankyou!!❤️

Requested by @imagines4everyone

A/N: First of all, thank you so much!! I hope you will like it!

Then also...The ending is my favourite.

Triggers: mentions of injuries, scars, angst, feels (if there's any more, let me know please!)

Tags: @guardianofrivendell @dumbassunderthemountain @imagines4everyone

Kili took a deep breath, as he looked over Dale. The town was beautiful, and he was lucky to be able to look at it during sunrise, every day, before he had to get back to his duties.

He felt the soft wind, running through his hair, and sun glittered in his deep brown eyes. He thought of his wife and daughter, and his mouth had soft dreamy smile in second.

When Kili came back to their shared chambers, he noticed Tauriel, gently stroking their ten months old Y/N's cheek.

"How are my two beautiful girls?" He chuckled, and his eyes were soft, as he looked down at his daughter and wife.

"Papa!" Y/N suddenly let out, and Tauriel and Kili looked at each other in shock and surprise. Their daughter just said her first word!

"You did it, Y/N! You did it!" Kili cried out, and started dancing across the room with his daughter in his arms. You giggled, and Tauriel watched the moment with tears in her eyes.

Five years later

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?" You frowned, when you noticed your father.

Kili was trying to make a surprise for Tauriel - his wife's birthday was a very special day to him, as well as your birthday - and this year, as any other, it was something sweet. Last year he made her a pair of twin daggers and got all her favourite sweets from bakeries around Dale.

This year, he decided to bake a cake.

Needless to say, it was very funny.

To watch, obviously.

You sat up on the chair, and Kili put his hands on his hips. You looked into the bowl, and giggled. You tasted a bit of it, and frowned.

"Uncle Fili said you can't bake, daddy." You shook your head. Kili nervously looked at you.

"What did uncle Fili say?" You looked at your dad, and decided to tell him everything.

"Well, Uncle Fili said you cannot bake, and that you only eat in the kitchen, and he was right," you said. Kili looked at the light-coloured dough.

"It is salty," you said, and Kili's eyes widened. He slapped his forehead.

"I really switched sugar and salt," Kili sat down to the table, and put his chin on his hands. You wanted to say something, but you noticed his eyes were filling with tears. You jumped off of the chair, and walked to him.

"Why are you crying, daddy?"

"I'm not crying," he said, and got up.

"Can I help you?" You gave him your best puppy-eye look, and Kili sighed.

You just had to get this from him.

"Okay."

When you finally finished the cake, the sun was rising, but you and Kili fell asleep, sitting by the table.

The finished cake was, however, worth it.

Twelve years later

"What did you say?" Kili frowned at you. You shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Kili's usually kind brown eyes had a spark of anger in them.

"That I don't care about you."

"Oh, this. Well, because it's true! You literally make any guy run away from me, and then you make me stay inside! How am I supposed to get to know at least one?"

"You have still enough time for boys." Your father shook his head, as if he tried to get out the idea of dating out as quickly as he could.

"Fine. But if anyone asks, it's your fault," you said half-upset, half-joking.

You almost opened the door, when you heard your father speak.

"You know I want you to have someone who truly loves you," you turned around.

"I...I, um..." Kili deeply sighed. He felt a bit of guilt about the misunderstanding.

"Sit down, please." You did as he said, and he gently took your hands to his.

"When I met your mother, I knew she was...the One. My One. I fell for her even more, when we talked for the first time. And a few years later, there was also you. I was holding you after you were born, and I promised I will make sure you will have the same kind of love, the person you will roll your eyes at, but know you wouldn't want them any other way."

"Dad, I-"

"I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just worried about you and want the best for you, but...the problem is, that in my eyes, nobody is good enough for you. I know you think it's the other way, but, it isn't. At least to me." You felt tears in your eyes.

"What do you think...mom would say?" You quietly whispered, as you felt tears in your eyes. He took a deep breath, probably to try to stop tears, too.

"Your mother would...secretly agree with me, but let you...let you go on an adventure, as long as you promise you are safe." Kili blinked to stop a tear, and sadly chuckled.

"You never know who you meet on an adventure."

You took his hands into yours, and gave him sad smile.

"She is alive. Trying to find her way back, from the orcs. Mom is a fighter."

"I believe too," he said, and looked outside. The sun slid across his face, and made his eyes spark, and showed you the way they used to shine when your mother was still there.

It's been a few months since you and your father talked, and you were on a ride from Hobbition. You liked to visit Bilbo and Frodo, and, as always, told each other news. When you almost got to Rivendell, you noticed someone lying down - with red hair. You stopped your horse, and jumped off of it.

You felt a rush of shock, when you realized who it was. She was full of cuts, but breathing.

You got to Rivendell safely, and when Lindir saw you, you let out just a whisper.

"Help her,"

You had no idea how did you end up in the working space of lord Elrond.

But, having soft blanket over your shoulders and sipping warm tea, after the shock, you wouldn't complain.

"Can I see her?" You whispered. Lord Elrond talked to a healer, and both of them looked at you.

"Your mother is asleep now," the healer carefully said. You nodded.

"Is she-"

"She is alive. We cleaned her injuries, and luckily, they were not even infected yet. You found her just in the right moment." You let out a breath. It felt like a huge weight fell off of your shoulders.

"Get some rest, princess Y/N. It will be good." The healer said, and helped you to get to other chambers, you guessed for guests. You laid down to bed, and fell asleep. You didn't even notice the healer turned around in the door, and slightly bowed, before he walked away.

You woke up into bright sunlight. You realized it was afternoon, and when you properly woke up, you found out you slept almost whole day and night.

When you took a bath and changed into light dress, you decided to go ask healer how was your mother doing.

You carefully knocked on the door. Someone slowly opened the door, and you realized it was the healer you already knew. After a short talk, he told you to get some rest. You decided to listen to him.

You didn't expect to fall asleep next to the bushes of lavender in Rivendell gardens, but the sweet, calming scent was strong.

You woke up with slight headache, and sat aside from the plants. You watched the sunset, and yawned. You also realized you haven't eaten whole day, and looked around for some fruit. You got up, and soon you found a few servants, who were actually looking for you, and as they mentioned dinner, you had no more questions.

At the dinner, you noticed the male healer you met earlier. You blushed when he noticed you looking at him, but he didn't do anything. Later, he catched your eyes again, and send you a tiny smile. You felt yourself smile as well.

After the dinner, Lindir walked you to your chambers. You took a bath, and when you got dressed, you opened your window and put a pillow and a blanket on the floor, to continue watching the sunset, and look at the stars. The sky was bright, and the fresh air made you feel lot better.

You got back to bed, but left the window open.

Your felt familiar smell, as you woke up. For a moment, you were five again, in your chambers in Erebor, and it was your birthday. Only other thing was the itchy feeling on your arms and legs.

Damn mosquitos.

"Mum?"

"I didn't mean to wake you, wildflower," you gasped and sat up, wide awake.

It was really her. Your mother, her red hair shining in the morning sun, looking at you.

Her face was full of cuts,which were in process of healing, and fading scars. Her hair was literally chopped off, now down to her chin.

Her green eyes were, however, full of motherly love. Just as you always knew them.

"This-this is a dream!" You let out a cry. She hug you tightly, and let out a cry too.

"I'm so glad you're safe..."

"What happened to you?" You whispered, as your arms tightened around her, afraid of it being just a dream.

"The orcs prisoned me, I tried to escape, but I was weak and didn't have any weapons. This time, I was finally lucky," she whispered, as she brushed your hair by her fingers.

"I'm here, Y/N. I promise it isn't a dream. I was fighting to run away every single day, and nothing could keep me away from you anymore."

Later that day, you sat down, to write a letter to Erebor.

Dear father,

I had to stay in Rivendell for longer, but, as you will find out - it was worth it...

Two years later

"Kili," Tauriel frowned at her husband. Kili looked at his wife with raised eyebrow.

"It's a boy, Tauriel!"

"And?"

"She's my little girl! She was born like...yesterday," Kili wiped off a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Well, our little girl is having a lovely partner. You will like him." Kili's eyes widened, and Tauriel tried not to laugh.

"You already met him? And didn't tell me?!"

"Well..." Tauriel would roll her eyes. Her husband was literally freaking out.

She didn't have the heart to tell him the reason you went to Rivendell or Mirkwood was because of your love, not because of political...anything.

Before she answered, you walked in, nervously smiling at both of them.

"I have, um...someone I want to introduce to you," you said. Your mother nodded at you with smile, and you sighed and patted your father's shoulder.

"It's fine, dad." You opened the door, and 'the elven healer from Rivendell', as you knew him two years ago, walked in.

"Mum, dad...this is, um, my boyfr-"

"Nice to meet you," Tauriel said, but looked at her husband by the corner of her eye.

"So...you are the elf my daughter is courting," Kili said, and you looked at your boyfriend. Him and your father were watching each other, and you gently took your lover's hand into yours, worried they might start fighting. Until...

They both broke a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Prince Kili. Y/N has told me a lot of good things about you."

"Y/N, would you come and prepare some tea with me?" Your mother asked you, and you both got out of the room.

You listened their conversation, talking about your meeting, and, your dad's, and your lover's, favourite - archery.

"I can't believe it!" You said, whispering.

"I know," your mother tried to hold in laugh.

"They literally-"

"Yes. Seems like they go along well."

"Now my dad will spend more time with my lover than I do," you pretend to be dramatic, but secretly you thought if it wouldn't be better if they didn't like each other.

You walked back in the room, with cups with steaming tea.

"Don't worry. Both of them know who are the best archers in the family," Your mother gave you a smile, and you proudly nodded, as you placed the cups down on table.

"That's not true, I always let you win!" They said at the same time, and you and your mother shared a look.

Later that day, you were with your father in the gardens. He was enjoying the quiet evening, and you were reading.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"You know...you said, about boys...that nobody would be good enough for me. In your eyes."

"Yeah." He nodded, and turned towards you.

"So, um...what do you think, now when you met my boyfriend?" You nervously waited for his answer.

"I think...I would never expect to say this, but...I approve him." You let out a laugh.

"Just because you're both good at archery?" He rolled his eyes.

"I wanted to say he seems to be very nice, but that too. We gotta keep the skill in family, don't we?" You shook your head and snorted with laugh.

"As well as recognizing elf men and elf maids." You started laughing when you noticed your father's wide eyes and flushed cheeks under his beard.

"Who told you that story?"

"Well...Uncle Fili has told me many interesting stories from your adventures," you said. Your father quickly stood up.

"Uncle Fili will quickly be reminded of what does it feels like to have younger brother," Your father muttered, as he walked inside the castle.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

so I just learned that my great grandmother was an Aboriginal/Islander woman, like not white passing either, somebody in the family has discovered a photo of a woman who has been positively identified to be my grandfather's mother, and even in black and white she is very much very obviously very indigenous

my grandfather doesn't take after her at all, he's all Scottish like his father, and she either died before my mum and her siblings could meet her or when they were too young to remember

the reason that this is such a big deal to my family is that my grandfather had never mentioned it, and my grandmother would swear up down and sideways that her mother in law was not black if her ethnicity was ever brought up, which apparently it had been by I presume some other older members of the extended family who had met her before

my mum and her siblings never knew why there was a rumour that she was a black woman, any time they asked my grandmother she wouldn't shed any light on the situation, she would just continue to insist until she was blue in the face that she was absolutely NOT Aboriginal or Islander, and my grandfather would just say nothing on the matter at all

finally having evidence has kinda put a real spotlight on my grandma, now we know the reason she was so defensive was because she knew damn well that her mother in law was a black woman, and she chose to hide that from us, presumably out of shame if I had to guess

I don't know if any of my family has called her out on it yet or even shown her the photo, but I can't imagine anyone's particularly keen to be the one to do it, it would probably be a hell of a confrontation, I know my mum would kill me if I did it (I'm not very good at being diplomatic with this kind of thing and that side of the family is volatile)

I love my grandma, I have spent a lot of time with her growing up, she's always been wonderful to me, but like many grandparents I always knew she had the touch of old folk racism in her, she is an adamant defender of being able to use the N word however she likes despite all of our attempts to educate her

but I always sort of assumed that that was where it ended, that she wasn't really racist, she was just old fashioned, maybe assumed isn't the right word, hoped might be more accurate

so finding out that she kept a huge part of our family heritage a secret out of shame, a heritage that wasn't even hers, it's got us all a bit shaken, does my grandad feel ashamed? did she make him feel ashamed?

it sits in stark contrast to my dad's side of the family, who have bent over backwards to track our family tree and all know the exact name of my grandpa's one very distant aboriginal ancestor, he was a good few generations away but they're all proud to know his name, even if that's all they know

if we'd known about our great grandmother we could have learned a lot more about our family tree, gotten in touch with our indigenous heritage, we might have even known who our tribe was or what language they spoke

I would love to look into it now, but since I was never raised to feel like I belonged with that community, I wouldn't know where to start, I would feel out of place, I don't look indigenous at all, I don't feel indigenous at all, I don't feel like it's okay for me to claim my heritage since I was never raised in it and I don't even look like I belong there, I wonder if that would have been different if I had known from the start

I want to know more about my family history and culture, but I don't know how to do it without being disrespectful, without feeling like I'm pushing myself into somewhere I don't belong

I don't know if I will ever learn more about her side of the family, I don't know if my grandad will ever talk about her, and even if he wanted to my grandma probably wouldn't let him

it's disappointing to know that her racism was that deeply rooted, that it didn't just stop at the N word, it was probably naive to ever think it did

[hops-hunny]

Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom​‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds. 

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever. 

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink. 

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half. 

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear. 

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew. 

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n)  continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek. 

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

[jaskierisbi]

lines and verses from every amazing devil song that hit

King

But our voices collide with each howl of the tide || Singing all hell and its fire waits for us

All that matters || Is that you’re here

Pruning Shears

My entire life it's running away too fast || Watching everyone I've ever loved walk past || Never really quite getting the knack of || Knowing no one will not || Ever come back for you

Shower Day

Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk past

You're the one who told me my hair looked better black || You're the one who told me to never look back || You're the one who asked me if I'm feeling ok || I said I'm fine || It's just a sitting down in the shower day

Leave the room but you get caught in the rain || Know you should love him but it's such a pain || Would have stayed if you'd had asked || But instead you just walk away

Elsa’s Song

I can hear the cannons calling || As though across a dream || And I can smell the smoke of hell || In every stitch and seam || And like flowers, the bodies tumble || Around this muddied lot || I cannot hear them scream || ‘Forget me not.’

Pray

Pray for me, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean || When they speak of sin

God made all man in his image || Honey I'm I'm I'm no man || I'm what’s left when children go to war

Run from you, I'll run until I begin to understand || What holy men really mean when they speak of sand and sons and seams and symphonies and sweat and sex and sin

Why you cannot sleep for sighing || Why womanhood is more than crying || I'm stronger now than you have ever known

The cracks you made I fill with mortar || A broken pot can still hold water || Symphonies and sweat and sex mean nothing when you are obsessed || With sin and soil and strength and song and all the words that came out wrong and him

Little Miss Why So

Did you tell them about the time we met little miss || You'll love the way I tell it || And I'll yell it from the rooftops for you || He says

He says || You're going too fast || You'll burn up soon

I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home || I don't know how to reach you when you get like this || I've been waiting for you to come home

Why won't you just tell them all to fuck off love and be mine

He says || Why so sad || I'm here and I'm alive || Stop making up death wishes and take my lifeline

Why won't you believe I love you if I'm not hurting you, he says || Can't you see that I'm enough for you but you don't want me to be || 'Cause that means you'll actually have to be content

Why so why so sad || Stop asking why I'm sad just know it's enough to know I'm sad

New York Torch Song

But your blood does not bleed red no more || It's whiter than the sun burns, bright with every hum || From within this gaping wound of ours || A new us has begun. A new us has begun. A new us has begun

Tear me up and burn me up and rip me up and leave your || Hand on the wall as you go

Are you god or devil, ghost dishevelled || Childhood friend or drunken revel

I cannot find the words to keep you || I cannot find the words to keep you

Two Minutes

It's like all the wallpaper inside my heart || Is slowly slowly peeling off || And I'm showing || All the stains and things || They wrote on the wall before

These hands are growing cold ||They're running out of things to hold || Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine

If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || If I'm good will you come back || To us

Not Yet/Love Run

Sing me awake with a song about pirates || And I will try to harmonise || And sip the sunlight from your eyes || Oh sing me awake || With all the things we’ll do today || But instead we’ll build a den || Out of pillows and get drunk again

If my old mum could see me now || Oh how she’d howl she’d howl

Love run, love run || For all the things you’ve done || Run for all the things that drum || Run for all those pages thumbed

Love run, love run || For all the things we wished we’d done || Run from all you know that’s coming || Run to show that love’s worth running to

All that matters || Is that you're here ||All that matters

- - - - - - - - - -

The Rockrose and the Thistle

n/a sorry y’all

The Horror and the Wild

You are that space that’s in between every page, every chord and every screen || You are the driftwood and the rift, you’re the words that I promise I don’t mean

We’re drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) || They thought us blind (we were just blinking)

Remember me I ask, remember me I sing || Give me back my heart you wingless thing

Think of all the horrors that I || Promised you I’d bring || I promise you, they’ll sing of every || Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child || Witness me, old man, I am the Wild

Wild Blue Yonder

So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes || Get a grip, we're grownups

Come and rip off my socks like you’re blasting the locks off of a bank vault. Halt! || This time we’re done for

Let’s hide under the covers || We don’t know what’s out there || Could be wolves || So hold me, lover, like you used to || So tight I’d bruise you || I’d bruise you, I’d bruise you too

Every stone you threw, I stood on to better see the view

Don't you ever wonder, what could have been? || All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried

Every brick you hurled, I’ll use to build this world || This world, this world, this world

Welly Boots

And I love you, don’t you know || That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind

And when you scream that it’s not fair || It’s like I’ve gone off to the coast || Left you behind just standing there || Pretending not to see your ghost || If only you could hear my voice || But you are screaming far too loud to hear me swear || Just because I left doesn’t mean that I’m not still there

'Cause you were always strong || When you were young, you’d kick things just to see if they would fall || They said ‘That girl, she’s wrong’ || But I’ll stick up for you, even though you haven’t got a clue, you haven't got a fucking clue

Farewell Wanderlust

He said ‘Hey darling hey, hey darling hey’ || I’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say

I promise you I’ll be better || I promise you I’ll try || But like rubbing wine stains into rugs it’s my curse || To try and make it right, but by trying make it worse

I promise you I’m not broken || I promise you there’s more || More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light || Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night || This here is not make up, it’s a porcelain tomb || And this here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune

Fair

It’s what my heart just yearns to say || In ways that can’t be said || It’s what my rotting bones will sing || When the rest of me is dead || It’s what’s engraved upon my heart || In letters deeply worn || Today I somehow understand the reason I was born

She laughs as though she’s not heard the joke ten thousand times before || And he adores her, he watches her get dressed as though she’s hurtling through time

And she brushes her hand through his hair, he’s got so much fucking hair

And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay

"It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you || It’s not fair, 'cause you make me laugh when I’m actually really fucking cross at you for something," || And he’ll say || "Oh how, oh how unreasonable || How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do || I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I’m standing here, maybe everyone will think I’m alright,"

'Cause darling I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades

And calm throughout his melodrama, she will turn and say || "Dear heart, it’s me, it's me || You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not || 'Cause it’s not like I’ve never heard you fart and snore || And for some godforsaken reason || I’m still here, love, like I’ve always been before,"

Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment || "Where have you been?" she’ll whisper || "I’ve waited oh so long for you to come" || And as the stars above them hum and hear them || He’ll turn to her and say, "That’s what she said"

That Unwanted Animal

You try so loud to love me || I cannot seem to hear || ‘Be good to me,’ I whisper || And you say ‘What?’ || And I say ‘Nothing dear’

I’m the paper cut that kills you || I’m the priest that you ignored || I’m the touch you crave, I’m the plans that you made, but fuck all your plans I’m bored

And you rip my ribcage open || And devour what’s truly yours

'Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough || To God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause

Marbles

And I chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked

You stole the best years of my life || I’ll give them back

'Cause I will wait and hope || Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep || But a place for crows to rest their feet || And I will wait and hope || And rest my head at night content || Knowing where my marbles went

She sang, ‘Do you think I’m sexy?’ and oh god I really did

Oh, if one more guy calls me darling then I || Swear to you and to god I will murder them all

All the bastards applaud when I show that I’m flawed || You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed

I’ve loved you, for a hundred years || Certainly fucking feels like it

The minute I met you, the colours of my life began to pour

And now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay || That's okay || 'Cause then I get to meet you for the first time every single day

Battle Cries

Tell the truth to me, love, does my hair look as nice || As it did when you once tangled up in your eyes? || Look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone

‘Cause these plates they smash like waves || And the wine stains hide the tears || But that breathing you hear, don't mistake it for sighs || Don’t you realise? They’re just battle cries, dear

And these lines aren’t wrinkles, dear heart || They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art

And as I walk away, I know I’ve been through the wars || But that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause

This isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale

[vespersposts]

Wildchild [7]

The weekend is coming, so the update is coming too! This part is a major fluff one, so i won't post any kind of warning, it's just some good old 'hurt/confort'.

A special thanks to all the readers and a warm welcome to the new ones, as i always say "Let's bring KNB back!".

🍉 hit me with a dm, a comment or a reblog and make my day! If you want to be added to the taglist just ask away!🍉

📚Chapters Masterlist 📚

1+2, 3, 4 ,5, 6

🔖: @storyhuntress13, @aizumie, @theehcneypot

"It's ok, we saw each other as soon as she arrived in town" he told him candidly "Normal things that friends do: a coffee at the station bar, lunch at home... Stuff like that, you know?" he concluded, unusually ironic, picking up a tray with two bowls of ice cream for the girls. 

"Tetsu don't be an idiot" the other called him back, but the blue-eyed man had looked at him with such animosity that it had been impossible for him to go on.

"Aomine-kun, if anyone is acting like an idiot here, it's you. She, too, has the right to do whatever she wants. If what she wants is Akashi, that's fine Akashi. It’s not up to you!" he had told him, turning his back to deliver the order.

Standing in front of the open fridge, Daiki could not make sense of those words.

''It’s not up to you!'' he repeated contemptuously, eliciting hilarity from his mother who had just arrived in the kitchen.

''Kid, take out whatever you're fighting with but close the fridge. I haven't worked all day for tomorrow's dinner to be a bust!" she said as she walked past him to set the table for breakfast the next day.

"Is something wrong?" she asked him, running a hand over his back.

"No, not really. I just had a quarrel with Testu, but already fixed" he smiles at her, enjoying his mother's closeness a little.

"Just as well" nods the woman " Shall I run you a bath?" she asks him.

"Nah, I'll take a shower and jump to bed, night mum" he tells her, leaving a kiss on her head before disappearing from her view.

He sighed at the touch of the water on his shoulders, let the hot jet of the shower massage his head, back and chest. He smiled, thinking that there probably wasn't a single gesture of his that you hadn't seen yet. He quickly rinsed off the soap and just as lazily dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist, to retrieve the linen and throw himself, as he was, on the bed shortly afterwards.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the noises of the house in order to get some sleep, but that long day seemed to really not want to end.

Momoi, Wakamatsu and you with your damn water bottle.

Tetsu and his sharp opinion, Akashi and your life on the phone.

A meaningless song, with an endless refrain, repeated itself in his head.

He reached for his mobile phone, but told himself that Yuriko's message could wait, as she was also part of the same tune.

He inhaled deeply, tried to resist, but after all, resist against what?

He thought of your bedroom, the large window through which the sun began to filter in early even on autumn mornings, too early, so early that, after that dreadful day, the last thing he wanted to do was get up at dawn.

Having lost his chance to qualify for the Winter Cup and collapsed with it the certainty of his unbeatability, he had little to offer anyone, especially his teammates. Satsuki, however, had managed to understand what lay behind his sudden desire to return to training, and although she had been happy about it, she had also come to realise that at that moment, only solitude would silence his bad thoughts.

Walking lazily on the wide promenade that lined the main road, he had a question he had not asked Momoi, that now seemed to go with his steps. He climbed the steps of the pedestrian overpass, looked down at the stream of cars and backed up ahead, convinced he was experiencing a hallucination.

"I lost " he said, empty of all emotions.

"Not in my eyes" you had smiled at him, intertwining your fingers with his, adding "Let's go home." You had walked in silence, united by that brief contact, to the gates of your block, to the judgemental look of your neighbour standing in front of the entrance of your house, where you had recently been living alone.

"Good evening Mrs Ota and thank you for collecting the mail!" you had told her, letting the boy in, and closing the heavy door behind you as if nothing had happened.

"Tomorrow everyone will know, in no time you'll be the easiest girl in the prefecture" he had told you in a bored tone, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Who cares?" you smiled at him, throwing the envelopes into a box and retrieving something fresh from the fridge. You sat down next to him to allow him to put his head on your shoulder, his forehead at the level of your lips, his arms casually abandoned around your small frame. You remained like that for an indefinite time, marked only by the movement of your fingers through his hair. A slow, steady, intimate flow that, combined with the warmth of your skin and your breath, had soothed the shock of the discovery of his true nature.

"I'm tired" he confessed, reluctantly pulling away from you, convinced only by the sore muscles from the match.

"I'll run you a hot bath, then we'll eat something ok ?" she had asked softly, stroking your face, smiling at you when she got a lazy nod in response.

You had followed her into her bedroom, placing the sports bag at the foot of the wardrobe after extracting a change of underwear from it. She had shown you a part of the wardrobe where, over time, some T-shirts and trousers that you thought lost had accumulated, a sign of your frequent passage through that house.

"Lava temperature, your favourite" she informed you, leading you into her pretty bathroom "Take your time, Natsume already knows you're staying out tonight. If you have any other needs, put your underwear on and shout " she had simply informed you with a smile, leaving you alone.

Too bad you didn't really want to be alone. 

You could have asked her to stay in the next room, you knew she would have been happy to do so, but you chose to leave her free to go back to the kitchen to read Akashi's letter, which she had withdrawn from the hands of that gossipy Mrs Ota earlier.

He'd have done better to learn to distance himself from you, if in future he had not wanted to be the one to be excluded from your life, in favour of the Rakuzan captain.

After all, what could he have offered you that Seijuro didn't already have?

He couldn't have said, not now that even his only reason for being valuable had collapsed.

He dressed quickly, descending the large wooden staircase and smiled as he found you perplexedly holding a pot which, after a quick check on your mobile phone, ended up on the cooker. He felt tenderness at how seriously you were studying the recipe, as if having to fly a rocket to Mars. One could expect nothing less from the cold and detached perfectionist that anyone who had known you briefly would have described you, but for him it was different. 

You are the one person with whom he would have crossed all boundaries.

You are his sidekick, his trigger, his enhancer, his wildchild. 

"Go on, and I'll kill you with this wok!" she had threatened, still with her back to you, when she had felt your warm hands grab her waist, in an instant she had turned around and was now studying your expression with a puzzled look on her face.

"If you feel like fooling around, maybe that means it gets a little better, right?" she had asked, making room for you, so you could help her by opening the eggs for the oyakodon.

"I'm just worried that you're going to poison me, that would be the perfect end to this day!" he remarked.

"Satsuki passed me the recipe, you see, it's teamwork!" you had informed him, making you both laugh.

Sitting opposite each other, you had eaten your meal quietly, without talking much, just exchanging a few glances and remarks about dinner.

Daiki was tired and sad, a lethal combination for someone like him who had never been very familiar with his feelings. As if that wasn't enough, the situation reminded him all too much of another dark moment in his young life, when the world had crumbled down on him in middle school, and he had first started to have very mixed feelings about basketball and, deep down, about himself. That time it was not you who took him to that big house, but your grandmother, who found him whimpering, soaking wet and lost on the main street. That time too he had taken a bath and filled his belly, that time too he had stolen your room and your space, and, as if that were not enough, the attention of your grandmother who stayed with him chatting about his feelings until he, exhausted, passed out in a dreamless sleep.

"I'll go upstairs for a moment to change, so you can get into bed as soon as you want" you had told him, not objecting to the fact that he had followed you to your room and was sitting on your bed, his gaze fixed on your huge wall piano.

"Why don't you play a little while I take a shower? I'm sure you still remember some songs” you told him, passing a hand over his shoulder, a tender, almost motherly gesture, before disappearing through the door to the other bathroom in another room of the house.

He inhaled, took a few steps towards the instrument but then preferred to head for the desk, where the envelope with his former captain's neat handwriting still lay sealed.

Letters, time alone, common interests. Everything suggested that you two were kindred spirits. Momoi would never have acknowledged it, but she had thought so, a couple of years before, when she had seen the two of you together at the summer festival, at the shoji pavilion.

"She told me she couldn't come" had escaped her lips, with a hint of disappointment. 

Daiki crinkled his eyes and when he opened them again he found you smiling in the doorway of the room, your hair loose on your shoulders, your bare feet on the wooden floor, dressed in a long, simply cut nightgown that nevertheless made you look like an angel in his eyes. 

'I was thinking of leaving you an extra blanket, it might rain and I think you'd be cold without proper pj's. Ah, there's another pillow in here in case you need it" she informed, as she headed towards the wardrobe, placing the recovered blanket at the end of the bed.

"For everything else, same rule as before: shout, I'll do my best to wake up!" she smiled as she walked a couple of steps closer, so that you were joined by her good scent that immediately reminded you of your childhood runs in the flower-filled fields in spring.

Desperate, that's how he felt, as you were about to turn your back on him and disappear through the door.

But you had never been like all the others.

"Don't be so sad, Daichan, because even though everything seems wrong today, you won" she said, once again seeking contact, which you refused her, sitting back down on the bed. She smiled at you, as if waiting for nothing else to come closer. 

She leaned over you, resting her hands on your thighs so that your gaze could no longer escape her.

'You defeated the monster, isn't that amazing? No more loneliness, no more need to hide or stifle your talent. You are free, and I can't wait to see the great things you will do" she tells you, her lips moving a few inches from yours, her eyes glued to yours, her small hands leaving their position with a caress to take away your warm tears, then touching your temples, your shoulders and bringing you close to hold you to her heart, as your hands reach the hips of that angel, whom you make sit on your lap. 

"I'm weak" you admit.

"If I can't even do that anymore, what's left of me?" you ask her, unable to stop the tears raining down on the thin fabric of her nightgown.

She remains silent, still looking at you with an unreadable expression.

You close your eyes as she wipes away your tears with the sleeve of her dress, then you lower your head, because you don't really know how you could look at her face without revealing how much you would like to be comforted, which she, still  in her silence, is probably telling you she doesn't want to.

"Daiki" she calls  you softly, lifting your head with a caress "Dai-chan" she repeats, shaking her head slightly without losing her smile "How little you know yourself, Daiki. If only I could show you how beloved you are, you'd see how key you are, even without basketball. Natsume, Shinichi, Satsuki, Tetsu and Kise. All the girls who dream of having a boyfriend like you, all the kohai who wish they could be cool like you. All the people who don't have the guts to show themselves as they are, and would like an ounce of your courage and talent. Are all these people wrong? I don't think so. These cannot be signs of either weakness or defeat. It is just the opposite Daichan'' she concludes, noticing your gaze becoming wary.

"And you? What about you?" 

That question had come out of your mouth, without even going through reason.

"I adore you Daiki, even though sometimes I want to kill you" she had told you simply, placing her cool hands on yours, still firm on her hips, as request to loosen contact to slide off your legs, as if suddenly aware of the awkwardness of that proximity.

"Now try to rest though, we'll finish this talk later!" she tells you, turning her back on you, as if she can't wait to run away. You already know that if you made her take even one step, you would lose everything from that moment. You get up from the bed, and when she turns to say goodnight, you open your arms and see her nod, before her little body is enveloped by yours. You feel her shiver imperceptibly because of your temperature gap. She is so pleasant to have in your arms, so satisfying to caress, so fit to hold you that you wonder how you couldn't have realised it earlier.

"Sleep with me" you whisper to her, hiding your face at the base of her neck, partly out of shame, partly because you are afraid of her rejection, which, however, does not come.

In the semi-darkness of the room, lit only by the dim reading light, she smiles at you, wishing you goodnight. Her face turned to yours, a hand bringing her hair down on the pillow, leaving her neck free allowing you a glimpse of the white skin stretched over her collarbones. With the lights off, your body feels the lack of contact and would like to seek it out, fighting against tiredness which it easily manages to overcome, however, by putting you to sleep.

[buckyownsmylife]

de l’amour - tom holland smut

the one where your parents tried to keep you two away, but your biker boyfriend always gets his way (specially when it comes to you)

Warnings: rough sex, like to the point of almost dubcon, pregnancy, oral (f), masturbation (f), doggy style, overstimulation, dirty talk

A/N: requested by @itstaskeen, this is part ii to je veux.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Telling my parents that I was pregnant and that Tom was the father went as great as I thought it would go, meaning that it wasn’t great at all.

To make matters worse, they had tried to ground me and when I reminded them that I was an adult, they opted to simply lock me in my room and steal my fucking cellphone. So that meant that it had been a full week since I had last seen my boyfriend or even heard from him at all.

So when they announced that they head to leave the house for the night to attend one of those fancy dinners they often went to, I thought that would be my way out. I could escape through one of the windows, now that I could leave my room and roam the hallways as “freely” as someone can be when they’re kept inside a house against their will. But of course, they’d thought about everything. And inside my room I was stuck again.

I was huffing for what felt like the millionth time that night when I heard it for the first time. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, the sound of something hitting my window’s glass was gone before I could even properly focus on it. But then it struck again, and I was immediately sitting up on the mattress before I leaped out of it, frantically trying to get the damn thing open.

“Tom!” I exclaimed when I saw him, enthusiastically waving at me from my back garden. He looked so fucking hot, especially now that I’d gone so long without seeing him. With that leather jacket and his slicked-back hair, I just needed him desperately.

“Hey, sugar! Could you step back for a bit, please?” I was confused, but then I finally took notice of the ladder he had placed by my house’s wall, and when I did as he said, he quickly adjusted it so he could climb up and meet me in my room.

“Huh! So this is your bedroom, huh?” I didn’t know if I wanted to shove him for making fun of the pink decorations or climb him like a tree, so I settled for pulling him down to meet my lips.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Tom chuckled as he struggled not to lose his balance before he managed to hold me still by my hips. “Fuck, baby girl. You really did miss me, huh?” All I could do was huff as I rolled my eyes, but accepted his control over my movements as he pushed me to fall back on my childhood bed.

“You have absolutely no idea.” But he was already distracted, his eyes hypnotized by the curve of my belly. Softly, he grazed it with his knuckles, before simply holding it under his palms.

“You’ve started to show.” It was just a fact, but the sparkle in his eyes let me know that he was cherishing every single second of this moment, trying to memorize what I looked like after spending so long without seeing me. Still, I had to remind him.

“It’s only been a week!”

“I know, but you had to start showing one moment or another, and just my luck, it had to be right when I couldn’t see you.” I knew he had a point there, but I couldn’t yet notice all that difference. I guess, since I saw myself in the mirror every single day, it simply wasn’t obvious to me yet.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have told them if I could still hide it. Mum started asking about my sudden weight gain. It was only a matter of time until they figured it out, especially after they saw me hanging out with you in the city.” He hummed to show that he was still paying attention to what I was saying, but his eyes and hands still never left my belly.

“Well, how do I look?”

“Hm?”

“You’re obviously obsessed with what little changes my body has gone through, so tell me what you think!” Tom inhaled deeply, finally raising his eyes to meet mine after running it across my body, and grinned.

“I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman, princess. I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I feel like you’re only gonna get even hotter as you start to grow.” The amount of desire I saw in his eyes only left me more overwhelmed. God, I loved him. And it had been way too long since I last felt his cock spearing me open.

“Fuck, daddy, I need you,” I moaned, changing our positions so I could be on top before stealing a breathtaking kiss from him. In seconds, my dress was on the floor, as were his jacket and shirt, and his hands were once again rubbing my barely-there belly.

“Fuck, I really want to cum all over your belly.” The comment made me laugh, and I just had to tease my incredibly horny boyfriend.

“Kinky much?” It only served to make him determined to have me screaming under him, and that was exactly my plan.

“You’re making fun of me, sugar? Perhaps I need to remind you of your place, my little cumdumpster.” The filthy nickname had me biting my lips as he managed to throw me back on the bed so he could hover over me. But then he climbed down the bed, leaving me confused as he opted to sit by the headboard before motioning me with a single finger.

“Come here, baby girl.” I crawled to him on all fours, breasts slightly bouncing as I settled between his legs and waited for further instructions, but he easily pulled me by my arm to lie against his chest, so he could spread my legs open with his. 

“Let me remind you who you belong to.” His whisper was pure sin as he tore my underwear and disposed of the fabric before plunging two fingers inside of me, making me cry out in pleasure. Even if it had been a while since I had anything of his inside of me, my wetness was enough to help with the stretch, and by the smirk I could feel against my shoulder, I knew he was damn well aware of it.

Tom’s P.O.V.

Easily locating that spot that had her thighs trembling and legs threatening to close, I focused on it as I immediately began a brutal pace of my fingers inside of her pussy. “You’re mine, princess. Even when you seem to forget that, even when I’m not around to remind you. You’ll always be my girl.”

I felt her melting against me, and the relaxation helped her become more sensitive to my brutal assault to her senses. It took no time to get her to cum around my fingers, and feeling just how tightly she clenched around them had me groaning as I doubled my efforts and continued to fuck her through this first orgasm and into another.

“T-Tommy, t-that’s too much…” She screamed, hands flying to hold my wrist in a feeble effort to pry me away from her, but I could only laugh.

“It’s not too much, sugar. It’s never too much. You were made for me, you can take every single thing I want to do to you, huh? C’mon, I know you want me to keep on playing with this pretty pussy.” Her lower lips gripped my digits tightly, calling out to me even when she couldn’t voice her needs. “Scream, baby girl. You can scream as loud as you want. They’re not here, they won’t hear you.”

I don’t think she would be able to disobey me even if she wanted to. By the time her pussy had stopped clenching and I was able to pull my fingers out of her wet hole and give myself a taste of her juices, she was taking advantage of my distraction to try to close her legs again.

“Oh no, princess. Keep those pretty legs open. I want a taste of you, now.” I managed to slide from behind her, resting her body against the pillows before finding my place between her perfect thighs again.

“I-I don’t know if I can take much more,” she whined, but I knew it was just for show. I knew her like the back of my hand, and I knew just how much she loved to be a little baby in the hopes to catch my sympathy.

“You didn’t seem that opposed to it when you attacked me after I climbed through your window,” I teased, running my bottom lip on the fragile skin of the inside of her thigh. God, she smelled incredible. It made my mouth water.

“Let me suck you for a little while,” she pleaded, trying to negotiate, and it had me chuckling against her navel.

“No, I want to focus on making you feel good tonight. You know I always lose control when I have your pretty lips around my cock. Besides, I missed your taste too fucking much. I’m only stopping when you’re crying.” And that was the only warning she got as I dived into her spread pussy, eagerly licking from hole to clit.

Her screams certainly resonated through the empty mansion, and I was once again more than glad that her parents decided to leave the house for the night. Although maybe if they heard her, they’d finally come to learn that she was fucking mine, and that there was no way in hell they’d be able to keep her away from me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Was it one, two, or three consecutive orgasms on Tom’s awaiting mouth? I didn’t know. I lost track of anything that wasn’t the feeling of intense pleasure that was provoked by his tongue on my clit, rubbing and licking and making me lose my mind. It finally reached a point where I felt like I couldn’t even breathe anymore, reaching down to grasp his wrist and try to beg him to stop, but all I got was a fake pout from my boyfriend.

“Aw, you think this is too much?” He mocked, smacking his lips together so I could *hear just how filthy it was, just how wet I was and how he was drenched in me. “C’mon, princess. You know this isn’t nearly enough, not after spending so long without me. Tell me you want this, c’mon.”

Somehow, I was able to gather all of my energy to beg for more, even though I was sure I couldn’t possibly deal with another orgasm or any other kind of stimulation. But I knew Tom, and I knew what would happen if I denied him of this. So a river of pleases and more, and don’t-stop, don’t you ever stop spilled right out of my mouth and it still wasn’t a lie. I always wanted him, now matter how much of him was already mine or what he had already given me.  And Tom knew that, too. 

So when my legs started to shake and a strangled cry escaped my throat, all of my body threatening to break right under his unforgiving mouth, all I got was a “I know, sugar. I know. But you can take this. C’mon, just this one more. Don’t you wanna make daddy happy?”

Tears rolled down my cheek as the boundaries of what I thought my body could physically take were broken and I came right onto Tom’s eager lips. From the depths of my mind, I could feel him slowly withdrawing from me, I felt as his breath stopped warming my abused pussy, but when I opened my eyes, was to find him looking down at me, the reddened tip of his member dripping as he fisted himself slowly, teasingly.

“Are you ready for me?” I didn’t have much of a choice. My body begged for him as much as I did, so I offered absolutely no resistance when he easily manhandled me into my knees and slid right in, the combined moisture of our juices only helping him in his task of ruining me.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re all mine,” he whispered, seemingly to himself, and I felt a warm hand rub my back as I panted against the crumbled up sheets, wishing for him to move, wishing for him to stop, wishing for everything and all at once.

“All yours,” I managed to confirm, earning a punishing thrust against my cervix that had me moaning both in pain and in pleasure. “Forever yours.”

I knew my night wasn’t over by far, and long before my parents came back from their dinner, I’d be gone, taken by my lover to the edge where lust and love mixed and became a single feeling that possessed me - almost as greatly as he did.

[celosiaa]

you can talk to me

Summary: Jon may or may not be questioning his gender.  Either way, Martin is there to listen.

CW: dysphoria, periods, panic, self-deprecating thoughts, food mention

for a prompt from @transcendentalbf! <3 hope you all enjoy!

Sasha: you wanted channa masala, right?

Martin: yes! got it in one!

Sasha: of course I did! be back in 15

Martin: <33

Setting his phone back on the desk, Martin tips back in his chair and lets out a sigh, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.  Though it’s been nearly three weeks since he’s started living in the archives, that doesn’t mean that he’s gotten used to it—if anything, the long hours of being constantly on the lookout for anything creeping or crawling across the floor has only served to heighten his pre-existing anxiety.  It’s so lonely here. The low ceiling of the basement seems so vast when you wander beneath it in the dark—and even now, with his friends promising to return with lunch for him shortly, he can’t help but feel the weight of their absence.

Christ, Martin.  You’re pathetic.

Can’t even handle a bit of pain.

As if the thought alone had caused it to happen, the aching roar of his cramps flares up once more, causing him to bend over the desk to breathe through it yet again. It’s just so embarrassing—he’s been on T for years now, surely the bleeding would have stopped—but alas, no such luck to be had.  Of course he would be one of the people for whom it gets worse.  Of course.

I’ve got to text her.

Martin: hey, do you have ibuprofen? didn’t want to look through your desk without asking!

Sasha: course! middle drawer. you okay?

He wants so badly to lie to her, say it’s fine—but he can’t really do that after asking for pain relievers, can he?

Martin: fine!! just having some cramps is all, it’s okay!

Sasha: aw, I’m sorry, Martin :/ need anything else? I can stop by the store later if you need

Martin: not yet. might soon though

Martin: I’m sorry.

Martin: please don’t tell Tim

Sasha: I would never. and don’t worry about it! it’s no trouble. I’ll get you some stuff later, alright?

You’re a burden you’re a burden you’re nothing but a burden

Martin: thanks, sash. you’re the best!

Sasha: <3

Returning his phone to its place on his desk, Martin has to stop to take a few deep breaths—heart pounding with embarrassment over the entire discussion.  He knows it’s alright, knows Sasha means it when she says she doesn’t mind…right?

Jesus, stop it.

Just…take a walk, and  you’ll feel better afterwards.

Standing a bit painfully on swollen legs, Martin swallows a few of Sasha’s ibuprofen before he makes his way toward the stairs, hoping for a chat with Rosie while waiting on lunch.  At the very least, he could get some sunlight, escape from the windowless basement for a while.  He could only hope that the worms aren’t too bad up there.  

The lift dings its arrival to the main floor, where Rosie immediately turns to greet him with a warm smile.

“Ah, Martin! How are you, my dear?” she says as he approaches, looking genuinely glad to see him.

“Can’t complain!” he beams, leaning against her desk with one elbow.  “You doing alright?  Staying out of trouble?”

“You know I’m not,” she laughs, swatting playfully at his arm.  “But neither are you, I’m sure.”

“Got me there.”

Martin can’t help but smile back, pleased at the thought of bringing happiness to someone’s day, satisfied to listen to her stories of cats and knitting circles and whatever soaps she’s been watching on telly.  It reminds him of his mum, a bit—the nicer parts of her, anyway.

“Oh, that reminds me—“ she bends down beneath her desk to pull out a thin package, handing it over to him.  “This was delivered for Jon this morning.  Probably listed the Institute on the order form by accident again. Would you be so kind as to take it to him when you go back down?”

Holding it in his hands, Martin can feel the shape of the thing within it—some sort of soft fabric, stamped on top with a return label indicating a very nice clothing brand.

Date clothes.

He’s got a date.

Even as his heart sinks, Martin curses himself for it—it’s none of his business, Jon wants nothing to do with him, has no interest at all—after all, how could he? How could he when he’s…well, him?

“Stop making this about you, Martin,” he hears his mother say, closing his eyes against the memory.  “You’ve always got to spoil everything, don’t you?”

“Martin? You alright, love?” Rosie asks quietly, and Martin looks up to see her worried face—hand coming to rest lightly on his arm.

Damn it.

“Oh, ha, of course, Rosie!  S-sorry, it’s just—“

He backs away from the desk, pressing the call button for the lift.

“I’d better get back downstairs, then.  Don’t—don’t want to keep Jon waiting.  For his package, I mean.”

The lines of Rosie’s face only deepen, staring concernedly at him as he steps into the lift.

“Oh—alright, dear,” she says, a bit surprised at his sudden retreat.  “Come back and visit sometime, alright?  I’ll make us tea on your next break.”

“That sounds lovely,” he replies, forcing a wide grin to his face, flooded with guilt that she feels the need to make tea for him, when that’s supposed to be his responsibility.

“Nasty child, always making things about yourself.”

God, stop it.

“I’ll see you later then,” he continues with a wave, begging the lift doors to close quickly and hide his face.

—

Breathing deeply a few times before Jon’s office door, Martin finally gathers the courage to knock.

“Come in,” comes Jon’s baritone from behind the door, and he swings it open with a gentle creak.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt—Rosie had a package for you at the desk,” Martin says in as cheery a tone as he can manage, holding out the floppy package to Jon.

At once, Jon’s eyes go wide—he snatches it from Martin’s hands, setting it quickly out of sight with a blush rising to color his cheeks.

“Oh, th-thank you, Martin, erm—must have, must have accidentally sent it here,” he stammers, hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, no longer meeting Martin’s eyes.

Just get out just get out

“It’s no trouble,” he replies, and it’s far too happy, too sharp, too loud to be natural. “Sorry!  Sorry.  I’ll just be going, then.”

He closes the door on Jon’s shocked face, clearly surprised that Martin had not kept trying to make conversation, as usual.  Stepping away from the door, he tilts his head back against the tears springing to his eyes—Jon was so clearly flustered by the package, confirming what he already knew: he’s seeing someone else.

Stop it stop it stop it

Furious with himself, at the hollow cavern of his chest, he turns toward the break room—determined to at least make this lunch normal and pleasant.  

Just be normal.

For once, just do it right.

—

Though the hour is just barely approaching 8pm, Martin is more than ready to settle in for what he hopes might be some half-decent sleep.  He’d been on the lookout for worms all day, as usual, but had really found very few—and certainly none within the sealed doors of document storage.  Even if the air feels a bit stuffy, it’s nice to have a bit of added security that those things couldn’t possibly reach him in here.  Or so he hopes.

It’s as if the cot has its own gravitational pull, beckoning him to just tip to the side, to let it all wash away into sleep—the only problem being that he cannot yet bring himself to take off his binder.  To put it mildly, it’s been a day, even with the lovely lunch Tim and Sasha had brought him, even with the warming cup of tea he and Rosie had shared. The idea of kicking his dysphoria into an even higher gear  is enough to set his heart pounding again, so much that every time he tries to just take it off, your lungs will thank you—he can’t get past even touching the hem sitting tightly against his ribcage.

Leaning back against the concrete wall, he smacks the back of his head against it a few times in frustration, before ceasing at the pain reverberating through his skull.

Just take it off just take it off just—

He pulls it up just a little higher.

Nononononono I can’t I can’t I can’t—

Bringing it back down against his pounding pulse, he forces himself to take deep, grounding breaths, shuddering and hitching a bit as his frustration builds up to form a lump in his throat.

Pathetic pathetic pathetic—

His thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of his phone against his thigh.

Sasha: hey, Martin—I popped some tampons and pads into your desk drawer.  saw your door closed and thought you might not want company right now.

Sasha: and I got you some ice cream.  double chocolate fudge.  I’ve left it on the top shelf of the break room freezer.

Sasha: hope you’re alright—love you <3

Oh god.

Martin feels his eyes welling up as soon as he starts reading, the tears causing the words to swim almost too badly to see.  God, Sasha—she always knows what to say, just what he needs—and he barely had to say a word about it.

Martin: love you too, Sash.  you’re unbelievable.  I can’t wait to tuck in!  love love love you <3

Sasha: good man!  I don’t want to see any left by the time I get in tomorrow.  goodnight, handsome <3

Oh god oh god oh god

He can’t help but clutch the phone tightly to his chest, allowing a tear or two slip down the side of his cheeks with a soft smile.  “Good man,” “goodnight handsome—“ even if he knows she’s saying it because of the dysphoria, it means everything to him that she would even think about it. That she would even notice it.

That she cares enough to want to make him feel better.

Dizzy with happiness, Martin slips out from under the covers and heads into the archives to retrieve his ice cream.  

—

Spoon and his wonderful frozen gift in his hands, he makes his way back to document storage—knowing that if Jon were there, he’d be livid to see him take any sort of food or drink into a place where such precious pieces of spooky history are kept.  In spite of himself, he lets the corners of his mouth turn up at the thought, imagining how terribly cross he would be, hands on his hips, shouting up at Martin, who stands a foot taller than him—

There’s a light on in Jon’s office.

Surely he’s…not…

Worry pooling in his stomach, Martin pads as silently as possible over to the partially-open door, peering inside just in case, hoping against hope that he’s not going to find more worms, or someone covered in worms, or Prentiss herself—

His heart leaps into his throat at once.

Inside the room, he finds Jon—with no worms in sight, no injuries—staring at the full length mirror on the wall.  Hanging from his frame is a loose and flowing dress, thin shoulder straps drooping down into a dark navy ‘v’ across his chest, blue and white striped skirt falling graciously around his hips and to the floor.  Slits in the fabric run from the hem up to his knees, giving the entire piece such a feeling of freedom—and the look on Jon’s face says he feels just the same.  His eyes sparkle as he moves about in the skirt, feeling the fabric against his legs, reaching up to let his hair hang loosely over his bare shoulders.  It’s lovely, it’s soaring, it’s—

Intensely private.

Oh god, I shouldn’t be here.

Desperate to leave as silently as he came, Martin takes a step back—right onto a worm wriggling beneath his foot.

“AAGH!” he yells, dropping the ice cream and spoon at once, scrambling backwards to grab a book from the desk behind him, smashing into the horrible little thing until it is well past dead.

“God, sorry,” he pants, swiping a hand across the sweat of his brow, setting the other to rest over his chest as he bends over to catch his breath.  “Sorry, I must have scared you, I just saw the light on, and I—“

When he looks up, he’s greeted with the sight of a man frozen in place—eyes wide with shock, and…fear?  He stands with his back pressed against the opposite wall, no breath visible in the movement of his shoulders as he stares back into Martin’s eyes.

“A-are you alright?  Jon?” he asks carefully, taking a cautious step forward.

He receives no reply in return—the only movement visible to him the shakiness of his legs.

“You don’t look w—oh, Christ,” Martin yelps, rushing forward to catch Jon as he starts to slip to the ground.

It strikes Martin suddenly that he still hasn’t seen Jon take a breath—and he begins heaving at once, lungs gasping for oxygen.

“God—that’s it, just take a breath, just--just take a breath,” Martin encourages nervously, sweeping his eyes over him for some sort of injury.  “Are you alright?”

Jon does not reply for a few moments, eyes still blown wide and wild, before at last turning them up to meet Martin’s gaze as his breaths begin to slow.

“Y-you—“ he begins, before his eyes sweep downwards for just a sliver of a moment. “You’re wearing…a binder.”

Oh, Christ.

With a start, Martin looks down at himself—only just realizing that he’s crouching in his boss’s office, wearing nothing but his boxers and a skin-tone binder.

“O-oh, God, I—“ he instinctively brings up his arms to cover himself.  “S-sorry, I just—I didn’t mean—“

“N-no, Martin—that’s not—that’s not what I meant,” Jon assures in a anxious rush, reaching out to touch his arm—before hurriedly jerking it back.

“No?”

“No, I—“ he cuts off again, pressing a hand over his chest as he takes another grounding breath.  “I’m really—I’m actually…relieved.”

Now Martin is properly confused.

“You’re…relieved?”

“Yes, I—“ he looks up, laughing a bit wetly before continuing.  “I suppose you…you wouldn’t…I suppose you would understand. Perhaps.”

“Understand…”

It hits Martin like a train, now that the panic of a possible crisis has been averted: the dress.

“OH!  Oh, I—I’m so sorry I burst in on you, Jon, I didn’t…I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t do that.  On purpose.  I can leave you alone?  Or to change, if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I—I think I would like that.  To change, I mean.  You can—“

He drops his gaze to the floor.

“You can come back.  If you want.”

For a moment, Martin allows hope to swell in his chest—before quashing it rather forcefully.

“O-Okay! Sure, I’ll just—I’ll be back in a mome, I’ll just…put some clothes on.  Right.”

Elegant exit made, Martin briefly allows the shock to wash over him before dashing back to document storage—popping on a pair of pyjama trousers and a band t-shirt, sure to grab a canister of CO2 for proper protection this time.  On his journey back, he spots the ice cream he’d flung to the floor at the sight of the worm—a bit melted now, perhaps—but if anything warrants some slightly-melty ice cream, it’s the conversation that he thinks Jon wants to have now.  Turning on his heel, he grabs two spoons from the kitchen, and by the time he gets back, Jon’s office door has been propped back open.  He knocks against it lightly all the same.

“Jon? Alright if I come in?”

“Y-yes—erm, have a seat, if you’d like,” he says from his desk chair,  now back in his typical work-day cardigan, hair pulled into a bit of a messy bun.

“Right, sure,” Martin replies, settling in the chair opposite him and offering a smile. “Feels like I’m about to give a statement or something.”

To his complete surprise, the corners of Jon’s mouth actually turn up a bit at this—and though he still will not meet Martin’s eyes, something about the openness of his expression tells Martin to mark this moment as one to remember.

“I suppose it must feel rather like that,” he agrees, beginning to fiddle with a pen on his desk, staring intently at it.

They sit like this for quite a while—letting the silence settle, as Martin tries to intuit whether or not he ought to say something.  Worrying at his bottom lip to keep himself from speaking, he tries not to stare at Jon, wanting him to feel comfortable, just wanting him to know that he’s there for whatever he needs to say.

It’s the most unnatural thing in the world for him to do—but it appears to have been the right decision, as Jon at last begins to speak.

“I haven’t,” he begins, before clearing his throat.  “I’ve never worn a dress before.”

Ah. So it is what I thought.

Leaning forward against the table, Martin tilts his head in an effort to let Jon know that it’s okay, you can look at me, you’re safe here—but he’s not quite ready yet, and Martin is certainly armed with patience.

“I think that’s great, Jon!  I think that’s really great that you tried it,” he begins, hoping that this is what Jon needs to hear in this moment.  “Do you want to—I mean you don’t have to, but—do you want to talk about it?”

Brows furrowing, Jon stops twiddling the pen long enough to glance up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I just…I mean…how did it make you—feel?” Martin clarifies, and Jon nods in response.

“Ah, I see. I—erm—“ and away he looks again, back to staring at the pen, perhaps more nervous than Martin has ever seen him. “It’s…difficult to say, I suppose. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“That’s okay, that’s perfectly natural,” Martin is quick to assure, running a hand over the bits of stubble that have crept up over his chin.  

He remembers this, remembers the doubt, the exploration of what he did and did not want, what he did and did not feel—it was far from easy to do, and he’s starting to think it’s much the same for Jon.  

Perhaps I ought to start at the beginning

“Are you—and you don’t have to answer this, but—are you…thinking about your gender identity?” he asks, watching Jon’s body language carefully.

He seems to curl up further into his seat, shoulders hunching in a way that makes Martin’s own hurt just looking at them.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Jon mutters, hugging his arms tightly across his chest. “I’m…hesitant to say, really, I just…”

He sighs, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes, arms braced against each arm rest.

“I happened to see that dress a few months ago, and it wouldn’t leave my mind, and I had some extra money to spare, and…and I bought it.  I don’t know why.”

All of this spills from Jon in such a rush that it winds him, still not opening his eyes.

“That’s okay, Jon.  Really. You don’t need to know why right now, okay?  This kind of stuff can be complicated,” Martin soothes, letting out a little huff of laughter.  “Believe me, I understand.”

At this, Jon opens his eyes again, bringing them up to meet his ever-so-slowly.  Once they land there, though…Martin has a feeling that they will be fixed on him for the rest of this conversation, though he cannot put a finger on why.

“Would you tell me?” Jon asks in a near whisper, leaning against arms which he’s propped up on his desk.  “I mean—I would like to know how you found out, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah. Right.  Erm…well, I suppose I was pretty young when I started to figure it out. I’d never…I’d never really felt like me in my body, you know?  The long hair, the school uniforms, just…it wasn’t right.  At least not for me.”

He pauses for a moment, half expecting Jon to interrupt, to tell him he’s heard enough—but Jon still appears transfixed, as if he’s drinking in every word he has to say.

“But I didn’t really understand what that meant until secondary school.  I was…well, let’s just say it was an upsetting time for me all around, right?  One day I felt upset enough to chop off my own hair in the bathroom.  And it was long by that time—nearly down to my waist.”

He laughs briefly at the remembrance, running a hair through his now-shorn locks.

“I cut it off—and it was like some small part of me started to understand.  I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  I tried to dress in what I thought boys should wear, walked around dressed like that to see what would happen—and the first time that someone called me “Mister Blackwood,” I just…it’s was like a great big wave of relief. It was like someone finally saw me. Like I finally saw me.”

Pausing there, he looks back up at Jon’s face—still reverently focused on his own. It sends a chill up his spine, in not an entirely unpleasant way.

“Thank you, Martin,” he murmurs at last, lowering his hands away from his face to stretch out across the table.  “Thank you for telling me.  That’s very…insightful.”

“Is it?” he replies, leaning towards him once again.  “Can you tell me why?”

He can almost hear the gears turning in Jon’s head—the lines of deep-seated thought clear on his face.  After a rather long silence, he begins to speak again, voice more certain than it has sounded all evening.

“The feeling of it.  What you said about not being able to get it out of your mind, I just—” he breaks off to sigh, frustrated with the way the words are stringing together.  “I’m not saying I understand completely, because it’s obviously your experience and not mine, but…”

He swallows, setting his face with such strength of intention that Martin finds himself bracing for the impact.

“I liked it. The dress.  I liked the fabric, I liked the way it…the way it looked on me. I…I liked feeling…feminine, I suppose you could say.”

In this moment, Martin is not sure he has ever felt such a surge of affection for the person before him—which is saying quite a lot, all things considered.

“I’m really happy for you, Jon!  Thank you for sharing that with me, I know that’s not always easy.”

Jon’s only response is a curt nod, his penchant for decorum and professionalism shining through even in this moment of relative vulnerability.

“Could I ask you—have you thought about pronouns?  Or names? I mean—I’m happy to call you however you want to be called.  Or perhaps even to try something new out, if you want.  Just to see,” he quirks up a little smile at him, pleased that Jon feels comfortable enough to look back at him.

“Erm—I suppose I had thought about it a bit,” he says as he wraps his arms around his middle again, a gesture that Martin knows to be one of self-comfort.  “I…I don’t think I would want to change my name. Not now, anyway.  I rather like how it sounds.”

“That’s alright!  I…I think your name is lovely, if that matters,” Martin replies—flushing as he realizes what he’s just said.  “Erm—anyway, what about pronouns?  Do you want to keep using he/him?  Or do you want to try something else?”

Again, Jon seems perfectly at ease to think about this in silence for a bit—turning away and twirling a loose strand of his hair with his right index finger.  That all-too-familiar twinge in his chest returns with a vengeance at the sight, endlessly endeared to everything about him.

God, stay focused for one moment, Martin.

“I—would you mind to try they/them?  I don’t—I don’t think I want to try it around the office yet or, but…would you?  Try it?”

“Of course!” Martin breathes at once, hand reaching out instinctively to cover Jon’s own where it rests on the table—and to his utter shock, Jon does not even flinch at the contact, nor try to pull away.  “Of course I will, Jon.  Do you want me to try it now?  I can say some sentences so you can feel it out.”

“I…yes. Yes, that would be lovely, Martin,” Jon replies softly, still not moving his hand away.

“Right. Erm…okay.  This is Jon. They work at the Magnus Institute. They’re the Head Archivist, and their work is very important.  I like to bring them cups of tea in the afternoon, and they wear cardigans almost every day,” he pauses there, reading the smile creeping up on Jon’s face like the sun breaking through the clouds—and knowing in that moment, that they must have gotten it right.

“So?  How did it feel?”

The smile takes on a full-bodied appearance now—eyes sparkling dark and gentle across the table, boring into his own with such depth of meaning that Martin is not sure he could ever fully take in.

“Yes,” they reply simply, smile spreading even wider.  “Yes, I—I rather liked that.”

“I’m really glad, Jon!  I mean—I would have been glad even if you didn’t like it, of course—the important thing is that you tried it out,” Martin stammers, nervousness somehow creeping back into his words.

“Thank you, Martin.  I’ve…greatly enjoyed this talk,” Jon says, at last pulling their hand away from beneath Martin’s to point it at the forgotten tub of ice cream, currently sweating a circle of moisture on the wood of their desk.  “I think you might want to get back to this before it melts, however.”

“Oh!  Oh, right—I forgot I sat it there!” Martin replies, grabbing it quickly and rubbing a sleeve over the damp spot it created on the wood.  “I actually—“

No no no, stop.

Don’t make it awkward

Don’t ruin it don’t ruin it don’t—

“Would you like some?” Martin presses on, against every voice that tells him to do the contrary.  “I—I actually brought two spoons, I thought…I thought maybe you could use a pick-me-up. After I barged in on you like that.”

The expression Jon gives back to him now is a mixture of things—incomprehension, confusion, disbelief—and perhaps, just perhaps, a small bit of delight.

“You don’t—you don’t need to do that, I—“

“I insist, Jon. Please have some with me,” he interrupts, handing him one of the spoons.  “Sasha told me to have it gone by morning, and there’s no way I can do that myself.”

“Well,” Jon replies, taking the spoon from him with just a whisper of a grin.  “I suppose we’d better get to work, then.”

“Let’s.”

[paperpocalypse]

duty.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Aristocrat!Reader

Word Count: 2,407 words

Warning: Wonky and inaccurate aristocrat/rich people politics and marrying young because of it, please bear with me

[A/N: No powers!Historical!AU]

The elegance of the Hargreeves estate is of the dark, academic sort – polished, reserved, all sharp lines and dim lighting and old books – and you’d feel quite intimidated by it if you were any less acquainted with its occupants. You and your sister always look out of place when you visit, bright splotches of summer color roaming the narrow, perpetually autumnal hallways; and when congregating with the siblings in the library or outside, any visitor could glance at your merry group and immediately tell apart the hosts and the guests. 

It’s all a reflection of your respective parents, really – if you had any say in how you presented yourself, it certainly wouldn’t be in the vivid, youthful hues of your mother’s choosing, and you’re sure that some of the others have similar sentiments. 

Because while your family and Five’s family are certainly different in some ways, their respective heads are both pretty damn suffocating.

“Looks like it’s a draw.”

You grunt, displeased, and collapse back in your chair, bundling up in your blanket. “Can’t take a loss, can you, Five?”

“Not if I can help it,” he answers. His frown and crossed arms speak to his dissatisfaction with the result; losing is never an option, but clear-cut victories are always better than a draw. “Want to play again?”

The suggestion is tempting. Very tempting. You reach out and pick up your king, feeling the cold, smooth marble against the pads of your fingertips, and purse your lips in thought. Your eyes flick up briefly to meet Five’s.

Oh.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you finally say, putting the piece down. “I’m getting a bit tired.”

Five studies you for a moment, head tilting in that particular, scrutinizing way of his. Then his expression smooths out and he nods.

After putting the pieces back into place, the two of you exit the warmth of the library and head towards the guest wing. The walk is silent; you keep your borrowed blanket wrapped snugly around your shoulders, the bottom dragging across the perfect, wooden floor as you look at the paintings hung along the wall. They’re landscapes, mostly – of dark green forests; cold, still oceans; blue-grey mountains shrouded in mist. Impersonal and very fitting for the tastes of Five’s father, that’s for sure.

When you reach your room, you smile at your companion, and it feels unnaturally polite. “Well, goodnight, Five.”

“Goodnight.”

The boy turns and strolls back down the hallway, and you wait until he disappears around the corner, chewing on your bottom lip, before pushing the door open to enter your room.

“You two are duller than an ashtray. 'Goodnight’?”

“Sh –” you bite back an expletive, whipping around to glare at the intruder on your bed. “Lila, go back to your own room!”

Your sister just stares at you from her upside-down position, arms and legs splayed out as she smiles. “You still haven’t talked about it, have you?”

“We don’t need to,” you snap back quietly, closing the door as quickly as you can without slamming it. “He understands it as well as you and I do.”

“You realize Mum never said you’ll have to marry the guy.”

“Of course not; she just strongly suggested it.”

“Still not an order.”

Her flippancy causes you to glare. “Lord Harold is rich and he’s willing –"

“He’s a massive creep,” she interrupts, giving you an incredulous look. “And you just came of age, [Y/n]. You’ll be miserable.”

“I can get it annulled after five years, remember?”

“You’re really going to last for five years?”

She’s trying to pull something out of you, you know it. You try to maintain your composure.

“A massive debt isn’t going to just disappear,” you repeat. “It was either him or Lady Helen, and Helen got betrothed last month. Harold’s the quickest way to fix it, in case you forgot.”

“And in case you forgot, it’s literally not your problem. Stop making a martyr of yourself when you don’t have to.” Lila sits up and swivels around to face you, crossing her legs. Her expression is expectant. “I’ll figure something out, so don’t throw a fit, alright? The debt’s going to be mine along with the estate. You can afford to disappoint Mum for once in your life.”

Your brow furrows. “Lila  –”

“If you keep arguing, I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” she says. “Either you agree with me, or you tell your future love affair that you’re marrying a human toad in the spring.”

“Future lo – it’s not like that! We’re friends!”

Lila holds your indignant gaze. Then, with practiced, unladylike ease, she hops off your bed, puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows at you.

“You have the worst case of denial I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” she says.

“I’m being completely honest,” you retort hotly. And you are. You and Five are friends, and although the nature of your relationship is admittedly more comfortable than any other friendship you’ve had over the years, nothing between you and Five had ever been non-platonic.

(Not that you would mind something non-platonic – but as you’ve reiterated to Lila many, many times, you’re just as content being friends. Having a genuine, close companion in your world is rare, and you’re tired of everyone deciding what you and Five should be when the two of you are more than capable of figuring it out for yourselves.)

“Why do you care, anyway? Everything will be easier for you if I marry Harold.”

“And more miserable for you.” She lets her arms fall to her sides. “Look, I’m the oldest, so I’m supposed to be the miserable one, not you. It’s not the end of the world if you don’t marry Harold. Give yourself more time to grow up.”

You don’t know what to say.

Seemingly finished with her piece, Lila smiles before brushing past you, nudging your blanket to the side on her way to the door. You glance away when she looks over her shoulder at you.

“Sleep on it.”

… You do, though it’s a lot less sleep than you’d hoped.

—

The next morning is slow and lazy. It’s a good thing in your opinion, because as mentioned before, you had spent a great deal of the night thinking about what your sister had said, and your head feels quite foggy as a result. A cup of tea and a horse ride with everyone outside in the snow both help somewhat over the course of the day. However, by the time the sky begins to darken, you’re back in your room to take a nap before supper, and quickly return thereafter.

When you hear three quick raps on your door, you groan and drag yourself out of bed.

“Lila,” you grumble as you turn the knob and pull, “can’t you go bother Diego instead –”

You swallow your words when you see your actual visitor. Five gives you a brief, tight-lipped smile.

“Mind if I come in?”

“Uh,” you respond intelligently, then shake your head and step to the side, remembering your manners. “Of course.”

Five walks in and heads towards the window. You go to the couch nearby and sit down, slightly perplexed as he finds an interest in the candle burning on the sill – he’s welcome to hang around in here, certainly, but the two of you usually convene in his room or the library. The guest room doesn’t have much to offer in terms of entertainment.

In due time, the boy turns away from the frost-covered window and joins you on the couch.

“Your sister said you weren’t feeling well,” is all he says.

So that’s why he’s here. Shrugging, you put your hands in your lap, fiddling with the family ring on your middle finger. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

Your lackluster explanation isn’t enough, if his short, replying hum is anything to go by. Five leans forward, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. And what else? he seems to say.

“It’s … It’s just been a busy year, with Lila and me coming of age and all. More responsibilities and expectations, and all that,” you eventually continue, staring down at the thick, luxurious carpet at your feet. “Though I don’t have much of a right to complain. Lila’s bearing most of the pressure, since she’s the heir apparent …”

“She doesn’t seem too bothered,” Five points out, tone bland.

You allow yourself to grin. “Because we’re on vacation. Five, if you saw Lila this summer, you would’ve seen how hard she’s been working.” Not to mention all of the proposals that she had so graciously shot down, on account of her veto power and general distaste for marriage. “Honestly, the two of you have a lot in common and I don’t know why you butt heads so often.”

“I have my reasons.”

At that cryptic snark, you reach out and gain purchase on his hair, ruffling it in righteous revenge. Five grunts half-heartedly, elbowing you away. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth and you almost feel like this conversation is going to be normal – that is, as normal as it gets with a Hargreeves.

(His hair is very soft. You feel bad for messing it up, so you attempt to smooth it back into its original state; about a minute into that attempt you realize what you’re actually doing and withdraw. You shouldn’t be so improper.)

Do you have to do this?

You decide to pay the piper before you can talk yourself out of it. “You know,” you say when the joviality fades, “she’s the one who suggested that I talk to you. About my possible betrothal.”

Five’s expression flattens. He looks straight ahead again, resting his elbows on his knees. “What is there to talk about?”

“Well, you’re my closest friend and one of the smartest people I know, so I ought to ask for your opinion on the possibility of …” You reconsider for one final moment, then inhale deeply and let it out. “Of me refusing Lord Harold’s offer.”

To your slight surprise, Five nods.

“Did you talk to your mother about it?” he questions.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for months, but I only started seriously considering it last night. And now I really don’t want to marry Lord Harold. He unsettles me and I’m not ready.”

He frowns. “Neither of them is going to accept that as a reason.”

“I know.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “They’ll kick up a fuss over finances and it’ll be a bit of a scandal. That’s why I’m asking for your advice.”

Being the pragmatist that he is, you had thought that Five would be more averse to your plan. He himself had done things that he did not want to do in order to help his siblings, so you had assumed that despite his immediate dislike of Lord Harold since the night of your coming-of-age celebration, Five would tell you to endure a few years with the noble before disposing of him and collecting your dues. It’s the easiest way to get what you and your family needed, after all.

The fact that he’s so accepting of your decision makes you curious …

“First of all, even if he recognizes your refusal – and you’ll probably have a hard time with that, which will be an issue all on its own – your mother will try to find someone else to ship you off to,” he states, eyebrows pinched. “Preferably within the next year or so, right?”

“Yes.”

“How likely is she to push back your marriage by a few years?”

“… Not very likely,” you admit.

The boy pauses, thinking, then sits back.

“I could propose to you,” he offers, “if you’d like.”

You accidentally laugh out loud, you’re so taken aback. Five? Proposing? “Come again?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“We’re practically penniless. Would your father even give his blessing?”

He rolls his eyes. “Penniless or not, you’re an aristocrat with a title. If nothing else, Dad will accept that.”

“Neither of us want to get married.”

“And yet it’s your most realistic option thus far.” Five pins you with a serious gaze, and it finally hits you that he’s genuinely, actually asking. “Are you okay with it or not?”

“I …” You fumble over your words, staring at Five with wide eyes. “I mean, yes, I’d be okay with that, but … are you sure? You’d marry me just to get me out of another marriage?”

(Your question is not born of a doubt that he’ll go through with it. Five is a person of his word. But this is a big deal, and you’re both young, and most importantly of all, you don’t want this to be a mistake.)

“Let’s just say that I’d rather it be you than anyone else,” he mutters, shrugging softly. “This is your back-up plan, anyway. And if the marriage goes sideways, we can have it annulled after a few years and you’ll get a settlement too.”

He says it as if he’s discussing the weather. You chuckle, inexplicably reassured and amused by his bluntness. “Not even ten minutes into your proposal and you’re already thinking about an annulment? I fear for our future, Five.”

“There are worse things to be afraid of,” he replies sardonically. “Bring it up with your mom when you go back. If you can’t get out of a marriage, write me and I’ll talk to my dad.”

“Alright. You should bring Allison with you, though.”

“I suggest the same with Lila. Make it convincing.”

That won’t be too difficult. You nod, and with that, the deal seems to be sealed.  Although you’re still processing what just happened, and Five is likely realizing just what he and you are potentially getting yourselves into, the two of you share a small smile nonetheless. It is hard not to.

“Thank you,” you murmur after a while. 

Five glances over at your hands, then down at his. “Don't thank me yet."

"Alright, then. If you insist."

As your friend twists the steel ring on his index finger, you think to yourself, yes, you do want more time to grow up. But if the world won’t give that to you, you figure that a life with Five would be the next best thing.