#draw just one image challenge failed once again!

[rendevok]

Me: wow i miss drawing to draw so much

Me, the second i try: [draws a comic page]

Me:

Me: nvm i did not miss this at all

[tuliptic]

Start Line: Growing and Transforming

We've been running this far, non-stop, all day yeah   Never getting tired, we keep up this runner's high   You know graduation   Even though it's over, it's not the end   Put on some new shoes   Yeah we're ready at the start line

Things have been difficult for a lot of us, and sometimes, we just want a flicker of hope, or some words of encouragement that can push us to go further. Just… Something, a message, to tell us that the pain we’re going through right now is temporary, and things will be better. 

Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and tell yourself that you’re on a brand new start line, and ask for the messages you’re called to hear. Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.

Decks used: Crossing Star Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck, self-made lyrics deck.

Pile 1

One card to represent you: The Magician rx

The first thought that popped into my mind is that… You’ve probably been told (many times) that you’re a good manifestor, but you have not seen it working out for you, or at least, not at the moment. You’ll need to try an error (or maybe errors) to find what works for you, and what works best for you. It can be rather disheartening to fail, but look for the opportunities in life’s challenges and learn the lessons. You work better by letting your physical body learn rather than your brain to absorb the knowledge. You probably have also noticed your tendency to self-sabotage, but you don’t intend to do anything about it. Perhaps, not at the moment, as you’re not in a right place yet to fix yourself, but you need to remember it and to work on it.

1. Why have things happened?  - Four of Cups

You have been too focused on what you’re feeling and not looking at the outer world, on whatever that’s happening around you or to you. This definitely has something to do with The Magician rx above, where you’re sabotaging yourself and not focusing on the present. It’s giving me very… Neptune rx in Pisces vibes, so some of you who picked this pile may have Pisces placements. It’s like living in the world yet not living at the same time, where you’re floating and drifting, not seeing where you’re at or where you’re going. Life has been throwing you opportunities to learn the lessons, but you’re not learning it. Not to mention that you’re not organising what it is that you’re feeling inside and to do something about it. With all of that happening, some of you may feel you’re at a standstill or some will have their head and heart wrapped up in different bags and not know how to unify them.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Pentacles rx

You have to stop dilly-dallying, and pick up the pace if you want to move away from where you’re standing. Sure, ADHD paralysis is difficult to deal with when you’re frozen (I’m referring to myself as well, in case y’all think I’m attacking anyone), but it is already something if you can move yourself away from the way of harm first. My first thought here is to train your body to be able to move on autopilot from time to time, which will help you in countless ways. Sure, you’re still sluggish and unenthusiastic, but let your body move first, exercise, and let your brain rest during those times.  Another way you can attempt to stop those thoughts is to get help. Not only external help from professionals, but more of building healthy interpersonal relationships. True friends will want to help you to be better, and will be willing to spend some time to accompany you to carry out activities that are beneficial for both of you.

3. What to look forward to? - The Magician rx

You’ll be able to tap into your energy. I do think that this is a time for you to work together with your manifestation talent/skill, and for you to decide which direction you want to head. You need to remember that the direction you’re going is not something fixed, so no worries in making a decision. You can change that anytime, or go on a different journey if it doesn’t fit you. The more important thing is to have a welcoming heart, to dream and invite limitless magic into your life, allow your guides to show in unexpected ways. Do not be afraid, go step by step and find out what works for you.  Of course, you can look forward to this if you take action. If you’re not doing anything, do not hope or wish for things to fall directly into your laps.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - The Tower

You’ve gone through a huge upheaval, you’ve gone through a lot of chaos and traumas in the past. Now, you’re going through another fundamental shift. It may not be as tremendous and messy as it was in the past, but this shift is something more of an energy thing, where you need to learn to be more selective with where and who you want to spend your energy on. This energy encompasses mental, spiritual and physical energy, and you have to remember that you’re also an exhaustible being, where you can’t focus on others forever. Look back, and you’ll see how far you’ve gone from that unhappy place. Remind yourself that you’re able to do it again. Once you’ve grown from it, you’ll also be more free to explore your skills and abilities. You’ve always had a tendency to have a foot in almost everything, and with you now knowing how to distribute your energy and time? You definitely can. You can try focusing on what’s in front of you instead of attempting to explore far, you might find treasures closer to you instead.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Chariot

The Chariot talks about action and goal. I don’t think I need to say much on this, as it’s pretty self explanatory. However, remember to hold onto your reins as you move towards wherever it is you’re heading. You need to have a clear goal and a destination, else you’ll run out of energy/fuel, and you may end up in different places. You’ll need a clear and visible goal, and the stages need to be well defined and measurable. You get strength from seeing actual results, and that’s when you gain the confidence to continue moving forward. You will get justice when you’re moving forward. The justice here is internal, as it is more towards countering the self-sabotaging part of you. It’s difficult, but once you wipe the tears and bite on the happiness you’re seeing, you’ll know your purpose in life, and you’ll taste that justice.

6. Advice for you - Five of Pentacles, Nine of Cups rx, Ace of Cups rx

Some of you may be facing financial difficulties or even health problems. It’s best if you work on them now as you prepare for what it is to come. It can be quite disheartening at times when you question and wonder why hard times fall on you more often than others. This may also result in an unhealthy stream of emotions. Emotions itself isn’t a bad thing, the problem would be how you’re managing it. Don’t hold them in and stack them up. Find a safe place to release them, understand those emotions and nurture yourself back. Place your trust in the Universe, believe that whatever that is happening to you right now is part of a greater plan. Twist your thoughts a little, see it as a blessing where you’re finding problems when it’s still salvageable (it’s still painful but hey, we can work on it eventually). Tune into your heart, listen to your wishes, and look at what you have achieved throughout the years. Your wishes of the past are now fulfilled, and you’ve finally built the life you’ve wanted when you were much younger. Well, it may exist in different forms, or you’ve gotten it not according to how you originally planned, but it’s there. Know that you can change your wishes into reality because you have the power. Believe in yourself. Let’s say if you want to recover faster, you can manifest quicker healing. You can. Just make sure that you do not fall into the habit of feeling dejected and dissatisfied quickly. Hold on to a heart of gratitude. It will open up doors for you.

Overall energy: The Tower rx, Six of Pentacles

There’s a mix of energy here. You’re unsatisfied that things have gone out of your control, yet there’s also a sense of relief that you are not responsible over those things going out of control. Despite the difficult times, you still hold generosity in your heart, where you offer what you have (materials, energy, time) to those who need them. In turn, you’ll also be blessed with what you need. Accept help given to you with an open heart and a grateful attitude. The greater plan the Universe has in mind for you may have something to do with people and connection, so that may be an aspect you want to pay attention to. Things or memories from the past can be resurfacing, so stop hiding or running away, and face them. 

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Pile 2

One card to represent you: Death

First thing I’m picking up here is that you’re going through a lot of changes right now, and the next thing is that… You’re being watched over. There's a lot, and I mean A WHOLE LOT of things that are going on right now, and they’re overflowing your plate. I could sense a certain level of panic and dread over everything, but there’s also some form of apathy where you’re tired of everything and anything happening all at once. There’s too much that’s going on to the point you have no idea where or what to focus on, so you’re probably at a standstill where you’re looking at the overflowing plate, doing nothing. I’d say that this is a “freeze” response because you’re at a point where you can’t process anything at the moment, but once your brain starts spinning again, you’ll get things done. You have people watching over you, or your guides are protecting you at this time. Imagine you’re standing still in the middle of the path but no one is hitting you. It’s like that. Your guides are making sure that you have enough time to process whatever that’s happening to you and around you. Once you start moving, they’ll follow behind you and help you out when you ask them, especially when you’re facing any confrontation.

1. Why have things happened? - The Hermit rx

You’ve withdrawn yourself from certain aspects of life (friendship, or work, or a certain class, or even a hobby) with attempts of healing yourself and to give yourself more time. Sure, you’ve got the time, but those times were not spent on yourself, those free times were not helping you, but the other people in your life. In another sense, you were still busy, and you did not get the rest you needed.  There’s a certain level of emptiness that I’m feeling here, and that you’re torn as well, not sure if you want to fill that emptiness or you want to remain it as so because of the comfort of being used to it. Do you trust yourself, with the steps and decisions you’ve been making? BET ON ME by ITZY was playing as I typed this out, and I do feel that there’s a message in this song for you.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - King of Pentacles rx

King of Pentacles is generally the last card of the deck, and what I'm seeing here is that you still have a lot more to go, that things are not final yet, and you have the ability (King) to change things to your favour. I understand that you're currently in a flight or freeze mindset, but you need to work your brain to trick it a little so that it moves, and you can reprogram it a little so that you can move away from the spot you froze. Be kind to yourself and let go of those thoughts that are haunting you, step away from those self-criticism, know that you deserve gentleness. The King is abundant in finances, life experience, but I'd also like to add connections into this list. To be a King, you must have known to pull strings around to make things work, to make sure you win the trust of the people. To achieve that, you need good and skillful people who are willing to listen to your plans and to make them work. Those connections are what will help you throughout your difficult times. Sure, people may have turned you down in the past, but know that they may not be in any position to extend any help back then, and that things may be different now. They will be more capable now. Some… May have a really painful tongue, not filtering their words. But still, they will help, and you'll be surprised with what they're able to offer.

3. What to look forward to? - Ten of Cups rx

This… probably is not gonna sound ideal to a lot of people but… You can look forward to having a fresh start. It's like the cups you have are now poured clean, and you are forced to redo things again, to fill them up again but this time, you get to choose what you fill them up with. Previously, when you were growing up, people around you filled those cups for you, helping you make decisions (that you may not like or agree with), or even tainting them (putting droplets of other things in it), and those form you to who you are today. But, by pouring them clean (a very, very painful process), you are now able to pour and fill your cups with whatever you want and whatever you need. You'll be able to work with your dreams and spirit's energy to reach your highest good as you fiercely protect your cups, your energy, your life. Your life is now yours to write.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Three of Wands

It feels like you have left behind a lot of original plans that you have made for yourself in the past as you build yourself anew. There's a lot of internal cleansing done, and you've decided to start everything from scratch again. You'll be able to build things again and fully immerse yourself in a new future you'll create. You've learnt to grow from pain and to see the smaller happiness in life, learning to accept that growth is inevitable. Visualisation is also vital here, where you will need to immerse yourself in whatever you have now as you visualise where you will be standing in the future. You decide your own path, and you have to walk it.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Ten of Swords rx

Things will start getting better once you pull out all the swords from your back. There's a lot of… Purging. Yeah, purging is a more suitable word to use for your situation. Your situation is like the shelf full of ceramic plates that will crash the moment you open that door. But you still need to open it, you'll need to let all of those fall, and you can clean it, to make space for new items to put in. You now can choose metal plates, or plastic plates to put in, whatever it is that you want. But first, you need to clean the space, only then you'll invite limitless magic into your life and allow your spirit guides to show up in unexpected ways. They are there for you, through a breeze, through a flyer, through a sudden noise to stop you from crossing the road. Once you've made space, that's when you'll get your justice by living your best self.

6. Advice for you - King of Wands rx, Strength rx, Six of Swords rx

There's another King card here, telling me that whatever you're going through right now is not an easy one. It probably will be there a little longer and it is what will help you to build up your upcoming new life, to start everything again. You will need to be at peace with yourself and be kind to yourself first.  Turn your strength and focus inwards, nurture yourself, and do not shy from cutting people out of your life if they drain you too much, even if they are family. You need to understand that you are your own universe, and you are your own priority. If you do not prioritise yourself, no one will. Others do not have that responsibility over you, so let yourself breathe. For now, heal your wounds, use it as your badge of honour, and live your life as how you see fit. Remember, it is you who define who you are, not your past.

Overall energy: Strength, Nine of Wands

There's a lot of strength in you, actually, just that you have not known how to work with it right now, not sure how to turn that strength for yourself. You have been resilient in everything you do, no matter how battered up you are, so let those tension fall from you. Sit down in peace and quiet as you receive the messages from your guides, letting them guide you through this time of difficulty. Trust your feelings, they know you better than yourself. Listen to your emotions, they understand your needs better. Act on them when needed, you will know when the timing is right.

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Pile 3

One Two cards to represent you: The Tower rx, The Chariot rx

I'm… Not exactly that surprised to see two cards falling out. The Tree in this image symbolises the Tree of Life as I was doing the reading, so some of you who picked this pile may be told that you guys are knowledgeable or do possess some extensive knowledge in very specific fields. And with this knowledge comes expectations, which can be seen with two cards falling out for you. With these two cards, what I'm immediately picking on is that… You are in a phase of life that can be quite challenging right now, where things that are beyond your control are happening almost all at once, and you're losing your balance as you continue to run on the uneven paths. You're growing exhausted as you're being chased with expectations and by your own sense of duty. So, please take a break when you need it.

1. Why have things happened? - Three of Pentacles rx

There have been conflicts going on with you and your social circles, may it be disagreements between classmates/colleagues, or getting shunned by them for not going along with them. There’s a slight hint of one being an outcast here. Correlating to the cards representing you, how you became an outcast is also due to what you're going through life right now, requiring you to put a hold onto a lot of other things, including assignments and/or socialisation, etc. Your intuition has been your assistant throughout these times of perils, and it's giving me that you do know how and why you're in a situation that's making you stagnant. Not sure if you are capable of breaking that ice or you're resting at the moment before you take the first step out. Either way, unlike most people, you know where you’re standing at right now, and you do know how to make changes towards a new you if needed.

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Three of Swords

This is probably a weird way to put it, but you need to use your pain as a tool to help you get back to the present. You may be able to perceive pain differently, like… It's to prove that you're still living, that you're still alive, and you still can make changes to the situation you're in. You need to remind yourself that you're beloved, and that the Universe loves you and is throwing hints at you through very… questionable ways. Trust your inner wisdom and intuition, let them guide you to where you're supposed to be. Oddly, I'd say that you have been through something similar before, but you kinda panicked when your previous methods no longer work for this situation. This is the time where you need to find a new method that will help you develop your senses, and for you to be at peace with yourself again. Coping mechanisms, but let it help you with more than just coping.

3. What to look forward to?- The Chariot rx

I'd say that things will slow down, not because the problems are resolved, but because the tires have worn out. Your nightmare and problems have also run out of strength to go after you, which gives you a quick chance to take a small break before you retreat to somewhere safer, where you build a new coping mechanism and possibly plans for the upcoming problems. I'd also say that this is a good time for you to make new connections that will be helpful in the long run. Don't worry about burdening others, as I believe that there will be a chance for you to help them back. Friendships and connections are mutual, where both parties benefit from them.  Not sure if you’re the type who’d welcome new changes. Nevertheless, challenges will be coming your way for you to level up. I’d say that these challenges are coming in a way where you’re capable of managing it. From there, you’ll experience a new sort of rebirth, and you’ll find a new identity that works with you better. 

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - King of Pentacles

I have no idea why but I'm sensing some… Familial relationships and expected duties? Most of you may be working with establishing healthy boundaries with your family, making sure that the roles are properly and fairly distributed. It also feels like… Financial responsibilities aren't yours alone, and the entire family will need to figure out how to contribute and prepare for any emergencies.  You’re now the King, where you have a comfortable relationship with your finances, knowing that it’s yours, your property, and you have every right to access it and to use it without guilt. There may be a chance where your family or extended relatives have guilt-tripped you to sacrifice or contribute to their needs, and you’re unapologetically free from those now. You now learn to trust your intuition more and let your inner wisdom guide you through your way subconsciously. It’s now a part of your life where you don’t really need to sit and listen, as you’re driving on auto-pilot by your subconsciousness.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - The Sun rx

I'd say that things will start getting better at unexpected times, or even at times when you can't see hope. The Sun is unable to shine on all people, it's unable to pierce through thick walls, but it doesn't mean it's not there. The Sun here feels mellow, like it's keeping its warmth and heat in check to not burn the other living beings that it's feeding.  There’s also another message here that is assuring you that good things take time, and that you’ll need to be kind to yourself so that those blessings arrive and you’re ready to receive them wholeheartedly. The entire thing is a journey, and the roads can be bumpy. But still, what matters is the journey and you’re able to reach your final goal in a good condition, so take your time as you tread through those paths. Once you start walking and taking action, luck will fall by your side and accompany you through this journey.

6. Advice for you - Nine of Pentacles rx, Knight of Wands, Knight of Cups

You may be using your time unwisely by focusing on things that do not exactly benefit you. I’m not saying that you can’t, but you need to set your priorities straight and know what is the final goal of your actions. You may start a project that requires you to invest and purchase tools, when you’re rushing a deadline that’s gonna affect your assignment and final’s results. By doing this, you’re in a way, not planning well. Sure, you get your emotional fulfilment, but it also comes at the price of you failing your semester (touchwood). Passion projects can be fun, but you need to plan your time well, plan your resources well, plan your enthusiasm as well. The planning happens behind closed doors. Others will see how well you portray yourself and be drawn to you, but you need to remember the need for continuous effort for you to achieve the best results. The public, or people around you may gather around you because of how well you have a grip over yourself, and once things have calmed down, feel free to let yourself loose a little. People will show up around you, and it’s totally fine for you to enjoy the attention and affection. You just need to remember how much you’ve put in to build yourself, and not let others take you for granted, or to take advantage of your skills or what you have to offer.

Overall energy: Strength, Four of Wands rx

Strength and beauty comes in all forms possible, even through pain and tears. This is something that you’ll be learning to accept through this difficult time. Most of us may understand the beauty and appeal of pain, but not many can accept it. Whatever we’re going through right now makes us learn and accept it, to come to terms with it. Of course, changes come along with it and we will need to learn to adapt to it, to build a “New You” as you face the upcoming challenges. Know that whatever you’re doing right now is a pre-requirement for you to achieve your dreams. You are your own world, and you can change the world as you grace the strong wind standing your way.

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Pile 4

One card to represent you: The Devil

What I’m feeling here is that you tend to have a certain level of control over some things in your life. The control here isn’t exactly pleasant, where it may be imbalanced and there can be some arguments going on. Temptations are heard as well. You know you’re stuck in some loop where you can’t escape, and you have no intention of escaping. The picture for this pile is somehow giving me Sex and The City vibes, where the neon lights (benefits, financial resources, interests) have been the focus of your sight, and this allows you to have a different perspective, or for you to see things differently from your peers.

1. Why have things happened? - Strength rx

You have lost strength, internal strength mainly. You were not surrounded by those who supported you, and your energy was depleted bit by bit as you tried to fit in. You have put yourself in a position where you depend on the actions and feelings of others, and you may have given up on your instinctive responses, not having the self-discipline and control you need. The Lion is your passion, and it’s now your enemy, threatening to destroy whatever stability and name you’ve built. Imagine a woman trying to tame the agitated lion and the two ended up in a fight, while the spectators (wrong group of friends) by the side just watched. 

2. How to stop your train of thoughts and start again from where you’re standing? - Knight of Swords

You’ll need to start taking care of yourself, listen to yourself. You’re a person who prides your intelligence, and you tend to be in your own head a lot. However, you’ve listened to the noises out there that have affected you in a negative way. Not to say that you’re supposed to go back into the state of being in your own headspace, but for you to pay attention to yourself more, to listen to the voices of your heart instead of the external noises. You’ve always been head>heart, and now you’ll need to go head<heart. You may not like how different this… new routine is, but you will also know that it has to be done, as you’ve been seeing messages of this “new path” around. Balancing out the heart voices and head nagging is important, and this is how you shall start.  You also need to remember you yourself, are the source of everything essentially you. You build yourself; you create yourself. You are not built on the words or acceptance of others. You need to remind yourself that you are already doing well, and the expectations of others are not yours to bear.

3. What to look forward to? - Ace of Wands

New beginnings come with changes. Once you’ve chosen a different voice to listen to, you’ll be able to regain energy, bit by bit, to attempt more changes in your life. Opportunities will surely come your way when you accept the positive energy around you, and it’s up to you to seize them and make them work. It’s a time for you to follow your instincts and have courage. Take action when you need them.  That aside, it’s suggested that you return to your roots as you venture through this bright explosion of good energy. Remember the importance of grounding yourself and go back to the basics from time to time. It’s not only to cleanse your heart, but also serves as a reminder of where you came from, and how you need to be in touch with your past and nature.

4. What have you left behind and grown from? - Six of Wands

What I’m seeing here is that you’ve put down the yearn and drive for fame and luxuries, and have redefined success for yourself. You’ve awakened from the past and start to feel more energised, learning to start your days in a better mood as you count your victories. More people are recognizing your achievements as they approach you with interest.  As you compare what you had and what you’re having now (or will be having in the future), you’ll be able to evaluate better and have a clearer idea of the direction you want to take next. You are warned of self-doubt and lack of confidence. You have to believe in your abilities and worth so people can trust you, so that you can trust and confide in yourself.

5. When will things start getting better? When will you get your justice? - Eight of Wands

Eight of Wands is a card that talks about movements. Once you’re moving, once you’re taking action, that’s when you’ll see things turning out different for you. You’ll start to receive things or messages that you’ve been waiting for, and it’s time for you to stop stalling. If you’re interested in someone, you will have to walk towards them and work for it. You’ll be able to attract a loving, happy, fulfilling relationship into your life as you’re no longer the old you. Remember, birds of the same kind flock together, and the same goes with people too. You attract people of your level. You want that person who’s active and charming? Be proactive in approaching them.  Your justice will come in unexpected forms, but most of it would be releasing of past hurt. There will be times where you’ll want to hug yourself to sleep as you were reminded of how things have been difficult. This is one of the healing phases where you slowly let things go. The lighter you are, the better you become. This is also because the karma of those who’ve wronged you will not be tied to you anymore.

6. Advice for you - The Star, King of Cups rx, Nine of Cups

Rebuild yourself. This probably sounds difficult and too… idealised? But this is what you need to do. The Star is there to tell you that there’s a silver lining behind every grey cloud, that you’re not broken beyond repair, and that you’re able to work yourself up to another peak. This card is an extremely gentle card, so take that message and be gentle to yourself as well. You’ll need to practise self-compassion, listen to your inner feelings, cultivate yourself and let yourself grow into your very best self. Love others by first loving yourself, don’t forget about the promises you’ve made to yourself.  Make new and healthy connections as you flourish. If you wish for them, they’ll come into your life. Learn to be content with the gifts you’re having everyday, learn to hold gratitude with what the Earth is offering you. With the amount of Cups here, try getting close to bodies of water (beach, sea, waterfall, etc). Water may be a healing element for you. Alternatively, try doing activities that are related to creativity (crafting, writing, drawing, or something that’s symbolistic) as they can be an outlet of your heart’s wants, which you can understand better from the results of your craft. Remember to stay hydrated too.

Overall energy: Justice, Eight of Swords

Justice is really your theme right now. You’ve been choosing to run away from the obvious, but it’s high time that you wake up, pull down the blinds that have been covering your eyes and to see the truth for who he is. The first action needed for every awakening is to open your eyes and acknowledge whatever that has been going wrong. Only then you’re able to take action towards a better situation. You’ll need to open up your heart and invite new changes in, welcome new beginnings in. The theme of Justice can be difficult and painful, but it’s necessary for you as you transform bit by bit, cutting down the vines that have been tying you down, severing unhealthy ties that have been binding you down (refer to The Devil). Get back your own autonomy, treat yourself right, let justice be served on who deserves them.

[longlistshort]

“1 on 1 (2 Face a Covert Bully)”, 2024, Oil, acrylic, and graphite on linen

“1 on 1 (2 Face a Covert Bully)”, 2024, Oil, acrylic, and graphite on linen (detail)

“Larva Stage (Exposed to Linger)”, 2024, Oil, acrylic, and graphite on linen

“Cute Ones, Abducted”, 2024, Oil, acrylic, and graphite on linen

“Routine Maintenance (Your Mouth Comes Second)”, 2024, Oil, acrylic, and graphite on linen

Stefanie Heinze’s paintings at Petzel for MORTAR (the cute ones shouldn’t go unnoticed) have a lot of layers- both in paint and detail. What they mean may depend on your own interpretation. The poem below by Sophie Robinson or this interview with herself may provide some clues.

From the press release-

SWEET SWEET AGENCY by Sophie Robinson

the candy here is hard & filled & there is nothing i love more than to be treasured. if nobody’s watching i just do nothing: lie down don’t hardly breathe, keep my face in careful stillness not to crease its cute forgettability. the world is full of edible munchkins & it is my life’s work to work out how to stay creamy on the inside, how not to sour myself up with little nips of this or that or otherwise cut holes in myself thru which to be seen. i must learn to love what i cannot know: the wide bleached anus on a porn blog, the insane demands of toddlers, the desire for moderation or slimness of affection, the reasons lovers leave, the trash my cat brings back, the crack of footsteps in the woods at night, why the killer kills. i learn it all the hard way but fwiw i would never snap the rabbit’s neck again i would rewind i would keep it every time

Following the artist’s relocation from Berlin to New York this past year, Heinze’s newest suite of works investigates systems of knowledge and truth, challenging received notions of representation.

Heinze considers mortar as a site of genesis, the container of beginnings, from which raw materials are processed. Mortar can be the sound of aggression, bombardment, a foil or a threat. Mortar and pestle, a receptable for grinding ingredients, a cup for holding and crushing hard, like the grinding of teeth, or the moment infatuation becomes obsession, when yearning turns from tender to brutal. The paste which binds building blocks together, holding and distributing weight, sometimes decorative, composed of cement, water and sand. Paint is mortar, the built environment is mortar, the grind is mortar, decisions are sealed in mortar, and so is the longing for something even better and bigger and harder.

Heinze starts with small-scale drawings and collages, which are translated to large-scale tracings, undergoing several transformations as her canvases take shape. Rendering her surfaces over several months, layers of line and color are suspended in scenes at once frozen and in motion. Heinze works with a sense of suspicion, disputing the power of images. Her depictions are at times plush, like her floating (emoji)-bodied cherubs, or sharp and dense, like her reckless, airborne cinder blocks. Heinze’s pictures lend expanded, fragmented associations to her subjects, both stony and swaddled, heavy and buoyant. Heinze’s works negotiate categorization, neither pure figuration nor abstraction. Language hits a limit here, reaching for the means to describe–an enzyme, a digestif–where words fail. Heinze strives for a more empirical vocabulary, generating fields of sensation.

Interested in divination practices, ranging from tarot reading to online “spiritualist” influencing, the artist creates images motivated by imagined futures, drawing on both medieval and New Age “Youtubian” utopias. Influenced by the theory of the third hand in painting, the experience of transcendence which overtakes the artist at that critical point of flow state absorption, Heinze leans into this tradition of mysticism. Heinze allows the pieces to reveal themselves over time, creating kinetic, shifting pictures that trip expectation. Heinze builds tender worlds, in which instinct and environment coalesce in new impossibilities.

This exhibition closes 6/8/24.

[afikaandthefandoms09]

Just bring some of my General Khan Art cuz i love Him!!

This is my first art where i draw General Khan for the first time in Ibis Paint X, and yeah... It's pretty have along time ago

This is when i make "Draw Your Squad" with some of ocs and of course, my secondary art of General Khan (and it seems like he take a wrong card)

And here another Arts that i Made for General Khan at Ibis Paint X:

That my third of my art when i wanted to make a cover of my Wattpad story that i'm planning

I was just randomly pick some Indonesian cursed image and redraw it with General Khan, it's funny how he doing the middle Finger, and he kinda Pissed off

It would be the deleted scenes of Afika in Atlantos 1, where Khan is finally defeated Afika with cut her head, in the fact... She might Semi-immortal but she can't healing despite that time her power cannot been used in the sea

If you see my Instagram art posts, you guys are might be see these when i'm doing the "Artober 31 days Challenge" and yeah, featured with Jesse Thornheart in there (Credits for @michaelathisten )

Yup, this is are my secondary "Draw Your Squad" where i put General Khan in there, this is the happening after in the first one and yeah... He fails once again...

Just make another cover for Crossover Fanfiction (or could be say... The "Alternate" Story of Afika in Atlantos 1) and yup, Jesse Thornhart in there to (and i was just realize Khan's eyes is pretty cool to)

It's literally of my art where i dream about General khan that time, and yes... It seem he Possessed by something...

#That all thx #paddle pop #paddle pop Indonesia #jendral Khan #Paddle Pop Atlantos #dang i don't what happen to ME?! #I'M SIMPING WITH THOSE SHARK BRUH-

[frozen-fountain]

1 ,5, 10, 17 for the fanfic asks!

What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Anything I put on the internet before 2020 is verboten here; I did make up Tomb Raider stories when I was about nine, though, based on whichever period of world history I was into at the time.

5. What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

I usually write at my kitchen table; tea-making facilities are within easy reach, there's an array of boxes for the boy to chill in. Ideally it's still light outside, the room is moderately temperatured, and it's quiet, though living under a family of six usually means I have to create my own ambiance with low-key music and atmospheric sound.

Back when I had little netbook, I took it into the middle of the woods once and banged out an entire chapter of an original project amongst the humus and occasional bold deer. I need a way to facilitate doing something like that again.

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

Surely good writing does all of that at once? But if I had to single out one, I'll choose dialogue (and inner monologue in conjunction). It's not the aspect of the craft that comes to me most naturally, but the gap between what's said and what gives lie to it is endlessly fascinating to play with. I think it's maybe the best vehicle for letting a reader become involved in constructing the story for themselves, and it's also super satisfying to feel you're getting a character's speaking voice just right.

17. What fic are you most proud of?

This is hard! Obviously I'm proud of all of them to some degree, or they wouldn't be shared. But I'll single out You Grow the Flowers Yourself, which to date is the closest I feel a completed story has ever matched the crystalline image in my head, though it's also the recent project that challenged me the least (additionally: I don't draw on numbers to determine a story's success, but I'm kind of proud that I managed to rake in fifty kudos on a piece about Elmyra Gainsborough).

Into the Night Uncharted has segments I'm not happy with and that will probably become the case for more of it as time goes on, but it also has a high number of my favourite passages I've ever written, and I'm proud of how hard I push myself with that one and how much I managed to exorcise from haunting my own head by getting it down.

I'm proud of Aperture Priority for giving a moment in the spotlight to a character (Barret) who I adore so much but who I feel gets frequently neglected by both the fandom and the post-OG source material. I think I did a good job of honouring the spirit of his arc by not providing didactic answers to any associated moral dilemmas, and there's some layered and overlapping metaphors in there that I came out really pleased with. I also got to utilise a trope/technique I'm particularly fond of (arguing with one's id through an imagined conversation with a dead loved one), and I like to think I did it well.

Lastly, my fic Penitent was a huge step out of my usual niche and a pretty out-there idea already, so I can't not mention it here. I really enjoyed writing it and definitely want to do more in that significantly darker vein in the future. I intended its final lines to be a last twist of the knife, but some readers found it reassuring or hopeful - and rather than feeling like I failed, or chickened out, I really like that the piece allowed for that ambiguity to exist.

[thedreamsmith]

Forged in Dragonfire (Chapter 5)

Summary:  Aemond’s attention is caught by a noble lady with an unusual hobby. Lady Edeline is nothing like anyone he has ever met.

Please note: this chapter includes a moderately explicit description of female masturbation 

No others had challenged her in the training yard that day, instead watching warily as she resumed her usual drills with the prince. Her fallen foe had beat a hasty retreat from the scene of his lost dignity, the jeers of his comrades nipping at his heels.

He had not been a good swordsman, Prince Aemond had told her, using the goldcloak’s poor example to once again impress upon her the necessity for good structure and proper footwork. He only let her finish training for the day when her arms were shaking too badly to hold her sword aloft.

‘Once more.’ The prince’s voice was firm, the toe of his boot unyielding as he used it to poke her in the side. Edeline groaned, the cold earth was divine against her bruised and sweaty skin. Her legs had buckled, setting her firmly on her ass, and that was where she had stayed.

‘I cannot. Leave me to die.’

‘Are all noble ladies so dramatic? Or is it just the blacksmithing ones?’ Aemond had mercifully ceased his leather-clad assault on her ribs, but from the way he was holding his training sword, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he switched his torture implement of choice.

His verbal jab, however, was enough to force her upright, despite the way her exhausted muscles screamed at the motion.

‘Me?’ She heard her voice rise several octaves, drawing the attention of a nearby cluster of soldiers. Edeline winced, her attempts at clinging to some scraps of dignity were failing in truly spectacular fashion. ‘I am not the one marching all over the Red Keep in a dramatic leather coat, swishing my hair around at every opportunity!’  

‘No, no and no.’ She pointed her sword up at him, eyes narrowed. ‘I am done for today, your highness.’ She set her jaw; chin tilted up defiantly. There was straw in her hair.

‘Wilful creature.’ The prince huffed, but offered her his hand nonetheless. With a hard swallow she hoped escaped the prince’s notice, she reached up to grasp his hand, her fingers scraping over the callouses on his palm. Even after several hours of training, and her own far-from-slight frame, Prince Aemond hauled her to her feet with no apparent effort, a feat that sent a peculiar warmth down her spine.

His touch lingered even once she was back on her feet, sliding forward to cup her elbow, steadying her.

‘I will send a maester to your family’s residence to tend to your aches.’ The prince seemed to remember himself, withdrawing his hand to rest on the pommel of his sword. The bastard blade she had forged had remained sheathed at his hip every day since she had given it to him, but she had yet to see him draw it. The raw sapphire gleamed from within the folds of his cloak, thumb stroking over the gem’s rough surface as he oversaw her training.

‘That truly is not-‘

‘I insist.’ She watched as his tongue flicked over his bottom lip. ‘You must look after your body just as much as you do your weapon.’ Seven Hells… And didn’t that conjure truly sinful images? Though she sincerely doubted that the prince spent any time thinking about her body, unless it was to correct her posture while she was drilling. 

‘Very well.’ She sucked on her bottom lip, worrying the wind-chapped skin between her teeth. The prince’s eye flicked down, drawn by the motion.

‘After all, you cannot give yourself more scars than you can plausibly explain to your future husband.’

‘You sound like my mother.’ Edeline rolled her eyes as the prince chuckled quietly. ‘Most men do not care about the state of a lady’s skin, so long as her tits are bare.’

Aemond’s mirth disappeared at once, replaced by a curiously queasy expression. ‘Not all men are such base creatures, my lady.’

She swallowed hard, rendered mute by the sudden shift in the tone of their jesting. Delicacy was needed here, that much she knew.

‘I am a rare and lucky woman to have never been intimate with the kind of cruel men I know to exist in this world.’ Her answer seemed to satisfy the prince, for his expression relaxed a fraction. He did not ask what sort of men, precisely, she had been intimate with in the past.

Half of her was glad he had not. The other half wanted to let her wildness show.

*

They fell into their post-training routine in comfortable silence, the quiet shushing of oiled cloth over steel the only sound as they sat at the edge of the yard. The sweet, musky scent of the oil surrounded her, mixed with the salty tang of sweat and the crisp edge that came with winter mornings, even this far South.

Once they had tended to their training weapons, Aemond started on his bastard sword, the live steel blinding in the winter sunlight. There was truly no reason for her to stay any longer now, but for the love of the Father she could not drag her gaze away from the steady stroke of the prince’s hand over the metal. The blade forged by her own hands.

‘You have yet to use it.’ It is not a question, and Prince Aemond knows better than to question her expert eye. The blade had nary a scratch or nick marring the gleaming edge, and even the best squire in the Seven Kingdoms could not keep live steel in such pristine condition.

‘It is a masterwork.’ His jaw worked silently, his gaze never leaving the blade as he continued the rhythmic motion. ‘It would not be right to use it for something as mundane as training.’ The platinum curtain of his hair almost obscured his face, a stark contrast to the dark leather of his jacket.

‘I did not mean to disobey your wishes, your highness.’ Edeline stuffed her hands into the depths of her cloak, the chill creeping into her bones now that she was not moving. ‘I know you asked for an unadorned blade, but the sapphire was truly a wonder to behold - I could not deny the urge to include it in the piece.’

Only then did the prince raise his eye and their gazes met, unbidden. Heat filled her face at the truth she had unwittingly revealed, unspoken but hanging between them, as delicate as spun air and sharp as steel.

‘You crafted my blade as you saw fit, I could not have asked for more.’

She dipped her head, accepting that she had not angered him, but unsure at how to respond. The prince had returned to oiling his sword, which she took as a sign of dismissal. So with a muttered thank you for the day’s training, she hurried from the yard, the blood still burning beneath her skin.

*

The prince had kept his word, and not two hours after she returned home, a maester from the Keep had appeared at the door, bearing all manner of tinctures and salves for her aching muscles. The wizened scholar was taciturn and efficient, much to her relief. He briefly examined the rapidly forming bruises along her arms and ribs before explaining in a whispering, papery voice how to apply the medicines he had brought.

Later while reclining in a tub before the hearth in her chambers, Edeline resolved to soundly thank the prince for his kindness. She had rarely known this kind of relief; the complete lack of burns, aches or bruises she had come to expect from her covert line of work.

As the fire crackled and the evening grew later, she found her thoughts wandering more and more towards the younger Targaryen prince, setting her blood simmering even as the bathwater cooled.

A quiet groan slipped past her lips as she let her hand wander down her body, forgoing the light, teasing touches she so enjoyed inflicting upon herself when taking her pleasure. She could still feel Aemond’s gaze on her, appraising, burning, as she laid the young goldcloak low.

It would have been impossible to tell how damp she had become whilst submerged, had she not been acutely aware of the wetness between her thighs since that morning. Water lapped at the edges of the wooden tub as she lazily circled the pads of her fingers at the apex of her thighs.

She sighed softly as the exquisite heat in her core grew, and her imagination transformed her own touches into a swordsman’s long, calloused digits; the warm air brushing across her skin into tender kisses.

Her neck and spine arched, night-dark hair tumbling over the side of the tub as she pictured Prince Aemond standing over her, pale and regal, mouth parted and eye dark with lust as he watched her come undone.

She hovered on the brink for one exquisite, unbearable moment, every muscle drawn taut like the string of a bow.

With a whimper, her climax shattered through her, and Edeline bit down hard on her lip as to muffle her cries. It would not do for one of the servants or, Seven forbid, her family, to investigate the sound.

Waves of pleasure continued to crash over her, even after her fingers stilled on her cunt, and it was a long while before she came down from the high, drowsy and limp.

Almost boneless with satisfaction and exhaustion, Edeline climbed from the now-cold bath before collapsing into the downy comfort of her bed, her skin still dripping onto the thick furs.

It was not long before sleep claimed her; the imagined scent of dragonfire and sword oil curling around her like the arms of a lover.

@mswintersoldier​ @deadbranch​

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

[anntoldst0ries]

The Signs (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 11 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: 1.6k, T Summary: After moments of passion and confessions, Ethan finds himself unable to fall asleep. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None

A/N: They are riding on Hawaiian waves, I am riding on the wave of fluff.

He witnessed the scene countless times during his career.

People squeezed in hospital corridors on horribly uncomfortable plastic chairs, air filled with hope of receiving the good news on their loved ones’ health, shared by many souls simultaneously. Wives resting their heads on husbands’ shoulders, mothers holding children perseveringly, their arms and legs numb and asleep. Some of them unmoving, save for shallow breaths and occasional blinks. Tired, on the verge of emaciation, haven’t had a wink of sleep in god knows how long.

How were they doing this? Where did they take this superhuman strength from?

Ethan could never fully comprehend this.

It was the sort of power he never really experienced in his life.

Until now.

Because when Noelle’s head found its haven on the sea of his chest, there wasn’t anything he wanted more than to become completely still, to hold his breath and be the pillow of safety she nestles up to.

He’d do whatever it takes to preserve her sleep, which, right now, was the most fragile and precious thing in the world to him.

It was a sign.

They lay in the aftermath of the afterglow, two castaways of the storm called life which, despite hurting them both really badly, also helped them find each other.

Them against the world.

Tropical Hawaiian air, sticky and dense, filled the room already soaked with lust.

It was heavy, failing to provide even the slightest relief amidst pervasive heat.

Because it was the type of heat that didn’t have much to do with the temperature.

It was the ardor of lovers.

Written on their curves were the stories of worship and promises of stories yet to be told.

They claimed each other's bodies a couple of times this night, engulfed in waves of desire bigger and stronger than the ones breaking on the shore outside the hotel windows.

The tidal waves hitting them, every next one with more might then its predecessor, their whole world encapsulated in the sounds of pleasure.

And something else.

In those moments, they were so much more than just a combination of skin, bones, muscles and ligaments succumbing to the march of time.

They were everlasting.

As doctors, they were reminded of their own mortality every second of every working hour.

But now, they were invincible, only if for a night.

When they moved in perfect unison, he saw something in her eyes.

He didn’t know what to call it, but he knew what it felt like.

Unconditional.

Their clothes and belongings were scattered all over the floor, the only witnesses of the wedding night fever.

It was the type of mess that was actually a proof of a perfect order.

The only kind of disarray he could live in permanently.

Signs.

Every cell of Ethan’s body craved sleep. But his eyes were wide open, defying the laws of gravity. And his mind was on overdrive. He couldn’t help but reminisce.

Two years ago he kissed her for the first time.

He could tell you exactly what happened right before and after the kiss. He could describe every second, every detail, every thought. But when their lips touched, he forgot his own name. And everything else he thought he knew.

A year ago he was fighting for her life.

Back then, Ethan didn’t know how strong he really was. Until being strong was the only choice he had.

Today, she was right here beside him and it was almost surreal. She was so close that he would notice the rising and falling of her chest. The rhythm of her breath.

It took him long to believe they could have a happy ending.

Too long, he kept reprimanding himself.

Yet the signs were there, if one only looked.

They were all around.

Ethan thought of all the people who made him the man and the doctor he was today.

Dolores. His first patient turned friend, the tragic and unjust loss. Baby Ethan’s fight. The night when nature played the cruelest eye for an eye game. Life for life. The night he started seeing Noelle Valentine through a brand new lens. He never told anyone, but seeing them so vulnerable awoke something in him. His own sensitivity, buried beneath the layers of grumpiness and indifference. Thick doctor skin.

Naveen. Ethan wished he could wipe the images out of his head. Seeing the man who taught him everything shrink and almost disappear was one of the hardest things he had to face in his whole life. Truth be told, he only made it through because she shared the burden with him. Because she saved Naveen. This delicate, slightly-built woman. The warrior. His Noelle. She made him so proud.

Louise. What his mother did to him was beyond repair. The cross he carried with him, anywhere he went. But in a short period of time Noelle achieved something he couldn’t do for years. Forgive. Never forget. Forgive and finally understand that even broken souls deserve the unbreakable love.

Dad. The man who, despite all the adversities, always had time for his child. But that didn't stop Ethan from resenting Alan for always justifying what Louise did. He couldn't understand, even though it was so simple. Love. In the realms of medicine, Ethan was in his element. But the concept of unconditional love was estranged. Until he met her. Not only did she mend the broken fence between father and son, but also showed him that some things truly are unexplainable and can only be understood with heart, not mind.

Tobias - his former best friend then best rival and now...best not to talk about it too much. Only Noelle had the power of talking Ethan into considering looking at Tobias in a different light. She laughed at the idea of holding the grudge forever. She challenged him and called him out on his bullshit.

Every relationship that meant something to him, had irreversibly been impacted by the force of a once clueless intern.

She signed them all.

Suddenly, she peeled away from his chest and rolled over to the left, so that her back was now facing him. Having covered her with a thin sheet, his fingers brushed her shoulder blades ever so lightly, as if anything more than this could hurt her.

It took all the willpower in the world to stop himself, for he wanted to touch every single millimeter of her being.

He wanted to draw the maps on her back. Maps of all the places they are going to discover together. The highways of their world. The plans of all the cities they will tower over. Write the words of pure adoration. The stories yet to unfold.

At the risk of looking like a creep, he slowly inhaled her smell. He wished there was a way to capture and bottle it, so he could carry it with him everywhere. His favourite perfume in the whole wide world.

Noelle shuddered lightly and the tiny movement startled him. Maybe she was trying to shoo a bad dream away.

“You are just a few inches away… and this is the longest distance between us I’m willing to put. No more running.” He whispered and kissed her hair lovingly. As if on cue, her breath returned to its regular rhythm, the tension leaving her muscles.

Part of him hoped she was asleep. Another wished she’d heard every single word. After all, he wasn’t best at translating feelings into words. Or maybe he was actually afraid that once he started, nothing would stop him.

Not only from telling her how he’s never felt this way about anyone, but also how everything fades whenever she’s around. How all the hospital drama dissipates, because everything is figureoutable as long as he knows she’s safe and sound. How, if he couldn’t run, he’d walk. If he couldn’t walk, he’d crawl. To her.

Today has done something to him.

Celebration of Ines’ love. Zaid’s speech. Being surrounded by people he no longer considered co-workers only. His friends.

Ethan lied. “I've never felt this way about anyone... and I don't know if I ever will again." Because he is certain he never will again. But more importantly, he never wants to.

Words echoed throughout his head.

“What I didn't expect was to meet the kindest, sweetest, most amazing doctor I've ever known... and the best friend I've ever had.” That was exactly what happened to him when one intern crossed the threshold of Edenbrook hospital...and inadvertently his life.

A crazy thought was born in his head. Completely irrational. And not a bad idea.

He hoped Zaid wouldn’t mind if he’d stolen the line and used it for his wedding vows. That is, if she agreed to share the rest of her life with him. There was always a dose of uncertainty.

But the idea certainly didn’t sound so scary anymore. Quite the contrary.

~~~

Noelle woke up in a couple of paradises simultaneously.

The tropical paradise.

The physical paradise of total satisfaction.

The paradisiacal view of Ethan Ramsey’s perfect body.

“Good morning.” She murmured to the man on the balcony, who, despite the heavenly view of Hawaii stretching behind him, had his eyes set firmly on her.

“Good morning indeed.” He replied with an unknown sweetness in his voice, that surprised even him.

And he really meant it.

This was a good sign.

Fantastic even.

Maybe the best one ever.

~~

Tag 🏷 list: @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @terrm9 @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @jamespotterthefirst @lisha1valecha @brooks-eden @maurine07 @drakewalkerfantasy @iemcpbchoices @liaromancewriter @lem-20 @lucy-268 @oldminniemcg @queencarb @qrkowna @mercury84choices @lsdvdg-blog @utterlyinevitable @stygianflood @udishaman @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @alina-yol-ramsey @stateofgracious @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @binny1985 @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @archxxronrookie @schnitzelbutterfingers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @theinvisibledreamergirl @custaroonie @irisofpurple @chasingrobbie @ethandaddyramseyx

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[jjksblackgf]

shh!

pairing — kim taehyung x female reader genre — smut  word count — 1.4k summary — “Would this time be the time where a photographer was following us, ready to destroy our future?” warning — explicit sexual content, public sex, exhibitionism, female masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus

a/n — To create a good image in my head of this story, I watched several Singularity and Blood, Sweat and Tears fancams. This information doesn’t add to the story but I needed you to know ksjsksks, enjoy <3

Dating Taehyung is an extreme sport, your heart races multiple times a day. First, his deep, low, and rich voice right to your ear and he wakes up; second, as you open your eyes to look at him, his beauty slaps you right in the face; and third, he always knows what’s going to leave you hot and bothered. 

One of the ways he loved to do it was through sex, trying different positions, sex toys, experimenting with most fantasies and kinks. He once roleplayed with you, satisfying this one desire of yours, and you would pay him back with one fantasy he never tried before: public sex. You had agreed with it and he was just waiting for the right moment to use his card.

“What if I take you right there in the bathroom?” he whispered in your ear, at BigHit’s Christmas party

“Are you crazy?” You managed to say to him, low enough so people wouldn’t notice “We can’t do that here, and you know it”

“Ok, I won’t do anything today, but just know that one day I will take you on a public place. Practice not to scream my name so loud, I won’t let you know when it’s coming.”

The months went by and you forgot all about your debt, but that thought never left Taehyung’s mind. Every time that you would walk by the beach, or go on a hiking, or even private events, he would watch you close, studying your face to see if that moment would be the moment. He loved the chance of people seeing him doing the most with you.

So now, you both were in a park, far outside the city and a little deserted, but not completely. You were laying on the grass, only protected by the picnic blanket you had brought, eyes closed, letting the sun hit your face, and playing with Taehyung’s hair as he laid down on your lap.

You lifted one leg, and as Tae looked to his side, the picnic basket was covering the space between your folded leg. Jackpot. You felt his grin at the same time as you heard his chuckle. You looked at him, trying to guess his expression through his sunglasses but he only wiggled his eyebrows, making you wonder the sudden spike in happiness.

“It’s payback time” He said, and you didn’t connect the dots until he licked his fingertips and slid aside your loose romper and panties, leaving you exposed.

You were now sitting almost straight, your palms touching the ground, you wanted to look natural to the people who were walking at a distance.

“Are you seriously-” you cut your sentence short as soon as his fingers touched your clit, getting immersed in pleasure

“Tell me to stop and I will” He said trying to look at you through the open space between his face and his glasses. He stopped his movements but he let his fingers still on your clit, anchoring himself in his elbow. You imitated his action and let your head fall back, letting the sun hit it again.

Tae went back to moving his fingers on you, using his new anchor to hold your clothes in place with one hand and work his fingers with the other, just stopping for a brief second so he could lubricate his fingers again, this time using your juices.

“This is crazy” you said to him as you laid back completely again, your hand going to the nape of his head, pulling his hair slightly.

“Pay attention and tell me if people are coming” he demanded and you complied. You double-tapped his shoulders to make him stop as you saw two men walking a little too slow, and he stopped his movements to look at where your head was pointed at.

He slid your clothes back, and he decided to lay on his belly at a perpendicular angle, holding himself up by his elbows again with his head up, not to draw suspicion. The two men stretched for a few seconds and started to jog in the opposite direction, making you both sigh in relief.

“Could you imagine if they were paparazzi?” He laughed it off, but he got into your head, and now you were very alert, various thoughts going through your mind.

You were always able to escape the paparazzi, being very rigid in keeping your relationship a secret, the only people at the company that knew about your relationship were the boys, his manager, and high executives. 

So far, the greedy sites had nothing on you. They never tried to sell pictures of you around, not even had baseless rumors or even based ones. But what if they were waiting for the right time to snap a picture? Would this time be the time where a photographer was following us, ready to destroy your future?

You didn’t notice that Taehyung was right by your side, analyzing your face. You only did when his damp fingers touched your jawline. “Tell me what you’re thinking” he had his sunglasses up on his hair, not caring if he would be recognized. “Are you scared?” he asked, and you could only nod your head.

“It’s okay, darling, we can scratch this idea out of the list” he smiled and pecked your lips.

“I love how attentive you are” your hands went to his neck and he grinned widely “And that’s turning the hell out of me” You were glad that you could see his eyes widen as he heard this.

“It’s okay, honey, really, I can-”

“Get down there before I take care of it myself” You cut him off, and you placed his glasses back as he bit his lips to stop smiling.

He went back to his position, placing one arm over your belly, laying his head on top of it. To your regular watcher, it just looked like a man napping in his girlfriend’s lap, but that was far from the truth, judging by the speed his fingers were working on your clit the way he knew you liked.

You pulled his hair for him to go faster, as it was your designated code. He inserted his fingers in a back and forth motion, this being an obvious declaration of what was happening, you moaned a little and placed a hand in your mouth to control yourself.

You had to double-tap his shoulder again, as a small family passed through you. You both decided that they didn’t see anything, the couple wished a good afternoon and the two little kids were playing tag around a few trees. They were seated on a bench to watch their kids and you were facing their back.

“This is going to be hard” you said

“But not impossible” Taehyung’s confidence allowed you to feel at ease.

He inserted his fingers and went back to his back and forth movements, you decided to concentrate on not moaning. You wished you’d practiced as Taehyung had recommended. 

His fingers were now curling inside you, and he picked up the challenge of placing his lips around your clit. Your horny instincts were about to fail you, so you went ahead and covered your mouth to whisper a “Fuck!” not knowing if Tae had listened to it

But he did, and the side to side motions of his tongue gained new pressure and speed, earning a hard hair pull to the nape of his head. You gripped on his soft hair and moved your hips up and down to accelerate the process. He helped you with it and just let his soft tongue out of his mouth, concentrating on the curling of his fingers.

You felt the build up on your stomach and you tried to grind harder against Taehyung’s tongue. Your feet were stretching, being on an almost perfect on pointe, your legs were about to give in and your toes were curling and your heart rate was fastening. With a final suck of his lips, your body finally gave him into relaxation. 

But you had accidentally moan loud, making the couple turn their heads to look at the scream direction. In an effort to look normal, Taehyung had seated straight and looked a the opposite direction, trying his best not to laugh, and you stretched your whole body to make it seem that you were just sore.

You were, but they didn’t know the details.

They looked back, ignoring both of you and you heard Tae’s snort as he looked at you again. “We are so doing this again” he went in for a kiss and you could taste your cum still on his lips.

[timextoxhajima]

ATEEZ as things and feelings

@haechanhues​ don’t mind me just doing it again cause i liked it uwu maybe i should just change to doing headcanons LMAOOOO

as i wrote this, i realised the members of ateez have really cultivated a specific image for themselves (eg. hongjoong as a fashionista, hwa as the mom, yunho has a big bear etc) and so i really hope that these are at least some part of their real identities and it’s not just kq forcing it down their throats ;(

HONGJOONG - BOUTIQUES AND EXPENSIVE CAFES 

there’s just something very sophisticated about joong, though he’s absolutely refined and clean-cut (despite that whole jack sparrow get up in their rhythm ta stage)

because he loves fashion and dressing himself up, he can’t tolerate how much you don’t care about the clothes you’re wearing! he knows EXACTLY what would make you look even better and what would totally boost your confidence and so he wouldn’t hesitate to drag you out to a boutique, whether it’s for thrifting or it’s one of those expensive ones like Dior

he’ll spoil you because he can, and because he wants to

he also has a knack for pretty settings, so that expensive cafe down the street that sells mediocre coffee but with a STUNNING exterior? he’ll bring you there just so you can be his photographer and he can be yours

you know when the coffee sucks but he still manages to contain his facial expressions and not hurl? yeah that’s joong being classy

the sophistication needed in everything simple and possibly disastrous

“i know the coffee sucks but look at our instagram now”

SEONGHWA - ROAD TRIPS AND HOME COOKED FOOD

honestly are you an atiny if you don’t agree with this

it’s been about a year since i started stanning ateez and my first impression of hwa is that he’s actually very timid and shy and awkward when it comes to firsts

on stage is a completely different story

so i’d assume he’s probably the same in private, ie he’s aggressive and dedicated when it comes to things he loves to do, but probably a little more timid and worrisome when it comes to people/things he’s not familiar with, but that doesn’t stop him from trying out new things and setting off on an adventure!

you’d be the one to surprise him with an impromptu trip, thinking that he’d be happy to escape but no he worries about clothes, packing, the weather, the itinerary-

it takes you a good amount of energy and convincing to tell him to calm down and that you’ve got every thing down, so he can just busk in the joy of being with you in a completely foreign land

he would also be the kind to try grocery shopping overseas then figure out how to make do with the ingredients

he’s home even when you’re not back in your house

“i made chicken soup with a mix of... whatever that was because the lady said it’s a local delight and that it should go well with chicken-”

YUNHO - OVERSIZED PULLOVERS AND CUDDLES

PLEASE this is self-explanatory no??????????????

a big, giant, fluffy, adorable bear! 

it’s literal - as big as his clothes are on you, he acts like them as well - making sure you’re comfortable and warm and you have your own space

i feel like yunho would be the kind that shows care and concern and sometimes he doesn’t really know when to stop, and so he figures out your boundaries just so that you would be comfortable around him

whenever you’re sad or depressed or you just had a shit day, he’ll always be there for you to hug or even vent your anger

sometimes you’d get frustrated with him because he’s too nice at work too and get trampled over and then all your feelings build up and there you have it, he’ll cradle you like a baby and tell you not to waste your feelings on things that don’t really matter

he’ll tell you he’s okay, as long as you’re okay

“please don’t cry, it’ll bloat your face tomorrow morning :(”

YEOSANG - PLAYING AROUND WITH TECH STUFF AND VIDEO GAMES

he’s not the most talkative person, no, but that’s exactly what draws people. he’s always listening, always watching, but never really saying anything, and lucky for you, he says everything when he’s engaged in something he likes

he’s known for his stellar concentration, so it’s no surprise when he’s able to figure out that new tech thing he got and figure it out within the first 10 minutes, thereafter, you take the chance to get him to talk about anything and everything you want him to

he takes awhile to warm up to people, sometimes very mechanical like the things he likes to play with, but when he does, his care is silent

he buys the Bluetooth keyboard you need cause your laptop keyboard is wonky

he buys the cute marvel themed mouse pad cause your current one is peeling

then when you got him that xbox, his competitiveness hopped out like doomsday and he’d trash you on a good day with a lack thereof of mercy when it comes to verbally trashing you

but on some shitty days when he can read your tiredness and frustration, he lets you win

“give me that mouse pad, it’s almost as messed up as you.”

SAN - ABANDONED PLACES AND LIGHTHOUSES

scary on first sight/impression, yet nothing but a place full of memories that was once full of life - that’s san for you

i think he’s very intimidating on stage, which is exactly how many abandoned places are marketed on the media - haunted, ghosts, murderers, weird plants and insects etc, but what about the history of those places before they went to shit?

there’s so much more to it than what you see

adventure, wander and thrill-seeking overwhelms you when he’s around. there’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of. 

lighthouses - where you find your way, and that you’ll never get lost

people tend to lose sight of what they love and want in life and san would probably be able to inspire you to get back on track, by the sheer force of his own passion and vision for himself

“run with me and we’ll see the light together!”

MINGI - MISMATCHED OUTINGS AND PLAYFUL TACKLING

ok when i say mismatched outings i mean it in the way that he’d dress up and ask you to dress up BUT you’d find yourself at a cheaper/more coffee-shop like eatery instead of a restaurant

he has fun admiring how pretty you are on the way there, but when he pulls you up to a coffee shop you’re like what? then why did i dress up so nicely for?

mingi knows that you depend on your appearance alot for confidence, so he really wants to see that pride when you’re out with him

lazy pajamas and messy hair are reserved for sleepovers and for days when you don’t really feel like doing much - and of course he’ll be there to comfort you when you need it

i think he’ll find absolute joy in pulling you close and wrapping his longass coat around you on the colder autumn/winter days, and then he’ll ruffle through your hair and you cant run because of his coat and arm wrapped around you

will definitely get judged by passerbys 

but like the mismatched outfits x location, he really doesn’t care. it’s the company he cares about. it’s the condition of his company he cares about. it’s the food he cares about. not the reputation, not the pure material of someone’s clothes

“i know i told you to dress pretty but must you outdo me all the time” /insert pouty face/

WOOYOUNG - EXPERIMENTAL COOKING AND PRANK CALLING

omg the noise pollution

‘let’s call yeosang’

‘what for?’

‘just ‘cause’

and you’ll do it on your phone because wooyoung knows yeosang won’t pick it up if it’s from his phone, and so when he does pick up and he hears you say ‘hello’ with the most amount of guilt in your voice, he tells wooyoung to fuck off and hangs up

seonghwa would be your next victim but hwa would stay on the line just so he wouldn’t have to worry about coming back to a burnt down kitchen - not because he thinks wooyoung can’t cook, but because wooyoung gets absolutely distracted with you around and would want to impress you with his culinary skills, which more often than not, backfires

pranks aside, all wooyoung wants to do is to make you laugh or smile and make the time spent with him the most fun and worthwhile

even if it meant getting into trouble with his members, he decides it’s worth the risk if it means he gets to see you happy and full from eating the food he prepares

like his experimental dishes, every joke and bs pun he says is new and never fails to amuse you - even if you don’t actually laugh

you see a new side to him with every passing day and he can be sensitive if he wants to, or completely clown himself if he wanted to as well

“don’t complain about the food! i bothered to cook for you and you complain about it?!”

JONGHO - APPLE PICKING AND PLAYFUL ARM WRESTLING

the one time you let him snap your apple into half cause your teeth hurt and now he snaps all your apples in half and it’s becoming more of a joke over anything else

finally decided to go to an apple orchard for the lols and amuse the people there with his apple breaking skills

you’re extra amused everytime he manages to do it (because how?????) and he adores seeing that on you - you’re honestly not easy to entertain so he’s a simp for when he’s the reason why you are

it came to a point where you got curious how strong he was because he hasn’t revealed one bit of skin ever since you’ve met him

it started out as you actually challenging him, but when you lost with two hands against his one hand, he started teaching you techniques on how to win instead

of course, he’s never let you beat him because he knows it’ll hurt your pride if he does

very, very quiet and subtle care - makes apple juice from the leftover apples he has at home and brings it to school for you

sometimes asks wooyoung to make dried apple chips for you but tells you he bought it cause he doesn’t want you to know he troubled someone

“are the apple chips too sweet? i can buy you another brand”

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ OH, SHE ISN'T PLAYING ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY @ocetevasgirl: Hola preciosa! Can I request prompt 8 from the fluff list with Voight? Love you 💖

❚❙ PROMPTS: “You're jealous, aren't you?” “You're calling that jealousy? If she/he can still use her/his legs, I'm not being jealous”.

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

Since you saw this morning Olivia Benson walking downstairs accompanied by Voight, your good mood got burned into ashes just in a sight. He hadn't told you that she was going to come and, actually, he hadn't why to tell you. For him, it's only part of his job. But you know it's something else for her. You have seen her how she looks at your man. The unjustified and unnecessary touches on his back, on his arm. The stupid smiles she draws to him, that you would be delighted of erasing using your fist.

You have never, ever, been the kind of jealous girl. You trust your boyfriend blindly, but you don't trust her. You can't. You have tried it with all your efforts, but then you heard her laughing for no reason and Hank responding with a fleeting smile. You haven't talked him about how you feel, because the age gap between both makes you look stupid sometimes. Fortunately, you're professional enough to not let these things affect your job and your relationship. You have learnt how to hide your emotions, even if sometimes your friends suspect that something is going on by the tic that makes you blink your left eye unconsciously.

Aware that he must be there with his amazing friend, Kim places a hand on your shoulder trying to encourage you to cross the entrance and come into the Molly's. Licking your lips as you calm yourself a little, you nod pushing the door to be embraced by the warm atmosphere inside it, covering you from the cold breeze of Chicago. Letting your eyes travel around the place, you greet some of your friends waving a hand, before landing your gaze on your boyfriend. He turns at that exact moment, not even trying to contain a smile. You show him another back, but his disappears when he sees you passing him away straight to the Unit's table without greeting him. And Olivia notices it, but you don't care.

“What's up, trouble?” Jay pulls down your hair, earning a laugh from you.

“Platt said you crashed a patrol”. Wrinkling your nose in a funny gesture, after Adam's words, you take a seat next to him.

“These aren't the things you have to learn from us, you know it, right?” Antonio makes you all chuckle, calling to his sister raising a finger to ask for more beers.

“I caught the bad guy, didn't I?”

“Yeah, crashing a car”. Atwater raises his eyebrows, leaning over the table.

“But I caught the bad guy, that's my job not to take care of the cars. I'm not a mechanic…”

“BUT A COP!” You all say in unison, as always, like a famous quote.

As soon as the beers arrive, you make another toast for your car lost in action. And everything is fun until you feel a presence behind you and the silence gets installed around your table. Gulping and licking your bottom lip, as your friends drink from their bottles trying to pretend that you all weren't doing what you were doing, you turn around over your stool forcing a smile.

“Having fun, officer (Y/L/N)?” Platt's voice gives you the kind of shivers you can hide.

“No, no, n— I mean… yes”. The look on her face causes you to swallow again. “I me—mean, no?”

“It's a simple question. Yes or no”.

“Trudy, leave the kid alone”.

Saved by the bell. Your hero.

“Crash a car is part of our tradition, ain't it?” Hank tries to put some humor in the situation, traveling his eyes from her to you.

“Hm”. The woman just replies, before walking away.

You don't know about what kind of tradition he is talking of, but at least he has saved your ass. Again. Not being able to look at him, you sip from your beer trembling yet. Probably, tomorrow Crowley will ask for a convincing explanation. I caught the bad guy will not work with her, that's for sure. Feeling a soft touch in your lower back, you raise your orbs from the bottle to your boss, who makes a brief move with his chin to point at the back door at the end of the bar. You don't want to go, you know exactly what it's going to happen and you just want to forget the intense day you have had. But he raises his eyebrows with that cockiness usual on him, about to drag you if you don't put down from your stool.

With an imperceptible sight, you end up obeying in silence under the attentive eyes of your friends. Hank walks behind you with both hands in the pocket of his jeans, as you wear your jacket to zip it above your chest. The fresh air hits your face once you reach the Molly's back alley, resting your back against the wall with your face bowed to your military black boots. Placing himself in front of you, he studies thoroughly your gesture, your lips pressed and the lack of eye contact.

“What's the matter?”

Shaking your head slightly, you cross one leg behind the other, putting your hands on your lower back.

“You're jealous, aren't you?”

Letting go an exaggerated chuckle, you roll your eyes before gluing them on him. “You're calling that jealousy? If she can still use her legs, I'm not being jealous”.

“It ain't a good moment to be sarcastic, sweetheart”.

“I'm not. She is just a colleague, right?”

Hank nods in silence tilting his head closer and you're sure he can hear your heart speeding up under your skin. He always does that, putting you nervous only to prove the power he has on you, on your body, on your senses. And you hate him. You hate how proud he feels because of it. The grin on his face causes a chill down your spine, standing up from the wall to pretend that he is wrong, that he doesn't control your reactions.

“Hm… Good to know you're conscious of her position. She's gonna stay in my house tonight. We didn't plan to need more than one day and she doesn't have a place”.

For a moment, the image of you punching his face runs your mind, keeping your hands inside the pockets of your jacket to close them in two fist until you feel your nails hurting your palms. There are a lot of replies to his words stuck in your throat, but if it's a proof of trust, you would fail miserably. This is a clash of titans and you're not going to let him win.

“That's fine”. You respond squinting at him, taking a step ahead almost facing Hank. “Anything else?”

“No”.

“Okay”.

With a feigned smile, you turn to the left to leave the alley and come back to your private party, which means to get drunk until Burgess and Hailey have to carry you home.

“What an interesting night is gonna be”. Hank whispers seeing you grabbing the doorknob, teasing you as only he knows how to do.

Kissing your lips as your steps stop dead, you turn your head about to lose your calm.

“If I see her putting a hand on your leg again, I'm gonna break every single fucking bone of her body”.

You couldn't help it. He knows exactly which words he has to use to push you to the edge. The worst part is the fun he usually has doing it. Walking towards you moving his head as if he was nodding, Hank caresses his bottom lip with a forefinger looking thoughtful.

“I didn't think of you as someone violent”.

“Fucking watch me, Voight”.

“Hm…”

Containing a laugh, he opens the door for you, pointing at the inside with a hand. Clearly challenging you. But before you can pass him away, the sergeant grabs your forearm to push you back and lean his lips over your ear.

“She booked the hotel yesterday”. His raspy voice touring your head makes you feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He has won already and you know it. Wanting to leave him again, he pulls you back again hearing the heavy snort escaping your mouth.

“She knows who you are. Told her this morning”.

Did really he? Arching up one of your eyebrows, you can't help but turn your face slightly at him. Your parted lips reveal the surprise and the confusion. Why can she know it, but not your friends? Just because she doesn't work in Chicago? It isn't fair. At least, under your opinion. It's not like you're going to act like Voight's girlfriend and take the advantage of what it means. But it allows you to smile at him when you cross your eyes in the hallways, it allows you to don't have to hide if you want to have lunch together, it allows you to not have to drive two different cars and leave his house before him to work. Small simple things that for you means a lot.

“Cut off the show, boss. Everybody is looking at us”.

It isn't the first time that Hank can't avoid touching you somehow in public, finding the stupidest excuse just to feel you. And he really enjoys putting you nervous, watching the way you lick your lips and bite the bottom one, feel the way your body gets tense when he lays his hands on you, the short frights he gives you coming behind you and whispering ‘officer (Y/L/N)’ in your ear.

Actually, there's no reason why you decided to hide your relationship. You haven't even talked about it. You haven't thought if it's because of the age gap, because of his past, because he is your boss (...). You haven't given it any importance, till you met Olivia Benson a couple months ago. That kind of sergeant who comes from New York and thinks that she runs the Chicago police department. Hank hasn't told you how they met, imagining they did when he was working on the Gang Unit.

“Admit your jealousy”. Tilting his head enough to look into your eyes, the challenging grimace comes back to his face.

Knowing that he's not going to stop, you simply nod. “It isn't fair that other women can… touch you, and I have to wait more than twelve hours just… simply to smile at you without looking suspicious”.

Hank can hear to perfection the hopelessness in your voice, feeling your fingers loosening his grip around your other forearm. It's not a question of possessiveness, but of insecurity; and he's discovering it now, thinking about since when you feel like that.

“Do you wan'me to take you home?”

You shake your head, now with guilt running under your skin because you know it has ruined his night.

“I'm okay, boss. Gonna have some fun with my friends after a long day”.

“Will you have some fun with your boss after that? End the night in my house playing pool, drinking whisky? I will let you win”.

You can't help but show him a fleeting smile, almost curving your lips. That's a yes for him and Hank feels satisfied. Holding your right hand on his, your boyfriend brings it to his mouth placing a tender kiss on the back of it, before letting you go.

Hailey and Burgess are squinting at you, knowing that their suspicions weren't wrong at all. Not saying a word and pretending normality, you sit back on your stool to have a sip from your beer. You're literally sweating right now, and it isn't because of the jacket you are wearing but because of the petty smiles appearing on the other cops.

“You know that we work in Intelligence, right, little trouble?” Antonio is the first one talking jokingly.

“Yeah, and we don't need to be detectives to know what's going on”. Hailey hums resting his arms over the table.

“How is Voight in private? I've always had curiosity. He takes off the stick of his ass when he comes home, or…?”

“Halstead, I can hear you”.

“Yeah, that was the intention, Sarge”. He replies, lifting up his beer in a silent toast.

Turning at Hank just for a second, you can't help but shrug with your eyebrows briefly frowned in a funny grimace that makes him giggle. It was inevitable, since they have seen the way and how close he has talked to you. But now, the pressure within your chest is dropping down, feeling better.

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[rafael-silva]

at your fingertips: a tarlos fic

When Carlos watches a video of TK working out at the firehouse in one of his old police academy t-shirts, he plans on showing TK just how much he appreciates seeing him in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the paramedic has on him once he gets home. Plus, Carlos has a comeback of his own.

for good things happen bingo: tarlos + wearing each other’s clothes

making out, kissing, neck kissing, soft carlos reyes/tk strand, sharing clothes, mild hurt/comfort, they are so in love, cuddling 

3.3k | rated M | on ao3

*****

Carlos is in the middle of doing some chores around the house on his day off when he decides to take a break and scroll through Instagram.

He heads into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and retreats into the living room, falling backwards on the couch, relishing the feeling of the soft cushions under and behind him. After opening the app, he spots a new Instastory from Marjan and touches his finger to the screen there, playing it.

Carlos is glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet. Because he most likely would have choked on it from what his eyes are met with.

His eyebrows travel up his forehead a little and he knows the heat climbing his face isn’t from exhaustion or from moving around the house for the past couple of hours.

No. It’s from the video she’s uploaded.

TK, Paul and Mateo seem to be in the middle of some kind of challenge, a workout challenge. Marjan is clearly amused and entertained by the three men, judging by her off-screen laugh. Carlos knows that he’d probably be just as amused too if he were actually watching the video as a whole.

Carlos isn’t really aware of anything in that video except how damn good TK looks in one of his own old police academy t-shirts.

He had noticed that that shirt had mysteriously disappeared (or not so mysteriously when TK is his boyfriend) and now Carlos knew exactly what TK, and that t-shirt, were up to. He always knew TK looked good in his clothes, and knowing how the paramedic is very much a super ambitious clothes hoarder, he always looked forward to seeing TK in his clothes. Most of those moments a surprise, and the anticipation would also excite Carlos.

And boy, was this moment right now a surprise of its own. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, the possibility of TK wearing Carlos’s clothes at the firehouse, so that video kind of short-circuited Carlos’s brain, in a good way.

There is just something about the way his t-shirt hugs TK’s body, it had shrunk a little from wash after wash over the years, making it a perfect fit for TK. It fits his body like a glove, the sweat also making the shirt cling to his chest, leaving nothing to imagination. Not only that, but TK had gone ahead and rolled the short sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off his incredibly toned biceps as he lifts and lowers the dumbbells.

The video is over way too quickly. And if Carlos touches the screen again to reply it, well, who can blame him?

The officer’s body feels alive now, heat coursing through his veins. The tiredness that was lingering before is long gone now, replaced with fire. The effect TK has on him, even through a video, never fails to completely and utterly blow Carlos’s mind.

He draws in a deep breath and wills his heart to calm down, his eyes moving to the time on his phone. TK has six more hours for his shift and then he’ll be home.

Or, better yet, six more hours and Carlos can show TK how much he appreciates seeing TK in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the younger man has on him.

And if Carlos finishes the chores and errands while simultaneously counting down the minutes and having that Instagram story playing on a loop in his head, again, who can blame him?

*****

TK is pushing the condo door open and dropping his keys into the bowl nearby a little over six hours later. Carlos turns his attention from where he’s standing in the kitchen, and seeing TK stride in and dropping his duffel near the door, is all it takes for the officer to abandon the task at hand (putting away clean dishes) and makes his way towards his boyfriend.

Seeing TK in the flesh is more than enough to ignite the sparks that have been growing in Carlos’s stomach into a fire.

TK smiles sweetly at Carlos and then Carlos is on him, holding his face in place and cutting off TK’s “hey babe” by capturing TK’s lips in a hot kiss.

TK’s response is instant, his hands immediately going to grab at the back of Carlos’s t-shirt and he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat. The kiss quickly turns messy, full of tongue, teeth and noses clashing.

Carlos swipes his tongue over TK’s bottom lip and proceeds to take TK’s same lip between his teeth, softly biting down just the way TK likes. And TK doesn’t hold back an inch of the heavy moan that escapes him at that.

The contrast in Carlos during these moments steals TK’s breath away, how Carlos can be so excited and on edge like this and is always very gentle at the same time. It makes TK’s head swim with how much he loves and wants Carlos.

Once he releases TK’s lip, Carlos moves down onto his neck, licking and sucking every patch of skin he comes in contact with. He takes it all in, inhaling TK’s scent, TK’s taste on his lips, TK’s small movements under his hold.

TK moves his head to the side and back, giving Carlos better access and exposing more skin for him. And by the small growl Carlos lets out, TK knows the larger man appreciates it.

“Who’s the tiger now?” TK says, teasing breathlessly.

He gets a small bite and swipe of a tongue over the area in response.

TK’s hand finds its way to Carlos’s loose curls, settling on Carlos’s head there.

Carlos then returns to TK’s face, giving him another heated kiss and it’s TK’s turn to hold Carlos’s face in his palms. Carlos is radiating heat, his face flushed red and the look he’s giving TK makes the paramedic shiver.

“Hmm,” TK hums, eyes glittering with pride. “I see it worked.”

Carlos watches TK for a few moments before replying, but then he instantly sees through a few things. The way TK walked into the condo, the flashes of pride on his face now, TK knew exactly what he was doing. And, oh.

“Wait,” Carlos’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Did you orchestrate this?”

TK can’t hold back, he drops his head for a second before meeting Carlos’s gaze again, his expression playful. “I think orchestrate is too big of a word…I saw an opportunity and made the best of it. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing and hearing what it did to you. Couldn’t wait to come home to this.”

Carlos shakes his head, intrigued and the thought that TK knew how Carlos would react and waiting to come home to him, to this, turns him on even more. Carlos doesn’t waste a single second in claiming TK’s lips in another passionate kiss. TK gives as good as he gets, and in an instant, he’s turning them around and pushing Carlos back against the wall behind them.

He pulls back, latching onto Carlos’s neck and peppering it with kisses and nibbles here and there.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that video all damn day. You’re such a tease sometimes, you know that?” Carlos speaks, his voice husky as he runs his fingers through TK’s once-neat hair.

TK pulls back enough to answer Carlos. “Maybe,” he replies with a smirk. “I had something better than that video,” he adds with a pant and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, starring directly into TK’s, the sheer want radiating from the officer’s brown eyes heat up TK’s face even more and makes his heat skip a beat. Carlos’s brain definitely conjures up an image of that selfie, and it increases the fire bubbling inside his stomach.

It stills makes TK a little dizzy and weak in the knees up until this day, every time he’s reminded the effect he has on Carlos, and it takes his breath away when he sees and feels how much Carlos Reyes wants him.

TK’s hands go back to Carlos’s face, cupping his cheeks and tenderly running his thumb over his cheekbones, Carlos leans into his touch and TK gives him a warm, soft smile.

“A selfie,” TK clarifies his last statement. “A sweaty selfie,” he purrs, his voice low and slow.

That’s all it takes for the little brown remaining in Carlos’s irises to completely fuse with the black now, his eyes not leaving TK’s flushed face.

“But Marjan beat me, posting that video and I knew it would also do the trick,” TK winks.

Carlos takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on his flesh while watching TK.

“Yeah, you always are a tease. A very sexy one,” he whispers before going back to showering TK’s neck with kisses.

“You love it,” TK quips back.

Carlos can’t see his face, but he knows the the smirk is widening on his boyfriend’s face, he can feel it. He’s pulling back slightly, his own face red and hot.

“You know I do,” Carlos replies, stealing TK’s breath with another kiss, but this one is more emotional. It’s like TK is his lifeline, and in more ways than one, he truly is.

TK doesn’t hold back, pouring everything he feels for Carlos into the kiss, the want, the love, the need for this man, and he deepens it, until they both become one, tangled together, not knowing where one end and the other begins. Neither of them know which of them is responsible for the moan that emits between them and neither of them care.

“I’m gonna need to see that selfie later,” Carlos heaves into the small space between them when they eventually separate. He cups TK’s face, running a thumb over TK’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.

They stop moving for a few moments, Carlos touching his forehead to TK’s and they just breathe together, breathe each other in, savouring this moment, engulfed in each other’s arms and love.

Carlos then brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s lips before pulling back and making his way to the stairs, his hand holding TK’s and pulling him along.

They hurry up the stairs and then it’s Carlos’s turn to gently push TK against the first wall they meet in their bedroom, framing TK’s body with his own. Carlos closes the distance between them, devouring TK’s lips, drinking TK in like he’s the first drop of water he has had in days.

Carlos grabs at TK’s hoodie, and they separate only long enough to remove it, followed by both of their shirts meeting somewhere on the floor. Carlos goes for TK’s belt next, whipping it off and discarding it somewhere near their shirts, the belt clattering on the floor where it lands.

TK pulls Carlos impossibly closer to him, their bare chests colliding and resting against each other. The mutual heat going off both of them in waves is almost too much to handle.

Carlos’s hands squeeze between them, finding their goal and unbuttoning TK’s jeans while TK’s go to the strings of Carlos’s sweats, pulling them loose.

“Off,” TK mumbles against Carlos’s lips.

“All in good time,” Carlos smirks in response.

TK is already so far gone he can scarcely believe it. His world has narrowed down to Carlos’s touches, his kisses, his beautiful skin and toned muscles. Narrowed down to Carlos.

The larger man pulls back, and something akin to a whine escapes TK’s lips at the loss of Carlos and his warmth. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because he’s being pulled towards the bed by Carlos and finds himself falling backwards on the mattress.

TK takes a second to adjust himself before Carlos is crawling on top of him, a hand on either side of TK’s head as he lowers himself and claims TK’s lips once again, a knee settling between TK’s open legs.

A hungry moan is heard from TK as he returns the kiss, his arms scrambling and wrapping around Carlos’s back, pulling him closer and then softly scratching his nails down the expanse of Carlos’s skin there, with just enough pressure he knows the officer likes.

He gets an immediate response from Carlos as he breaks the kiss and buries his face in TK’s neck, breathing a moan there.

Carlos begins to moves south, focusing on TK’s chest, every inch of it. He drops kisses here and there and stops at TK’s bullet wound scar, slightly discolored and standing out against the rest of TK’s skin.

His breath hitches a little at the reminder of just how close he had gotten to loosing TK, how close they had gotten to losing all of this. Flashes of that night take over his mind; hearing the radio call about a firefighter being shot after he had left the house, wishing he could take the first u-turn and race to the hospital while praying and praying it wasn’t TK. Having his heart ripped out of his chest when he finds out his fear had come true when Paul called him. Then hours later, standing in the hospital room doorway, tears clinging to his eyes, watching TK on the hospital bed, too still, too pale. Running his fingers through TK’s hair, and that time, unlike when TK would lean into his touch, getting no response. A light shudder runs through his body.

Knowing where Carlos’s thoughts have taken him, TK reaches out a hand and places it under Carlos’s chin, guiding his face towards him.

“Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK whispers. “I’m right here, baby.”

Carlos goes easily with him, looking into TK’s eyes and there’s so much he carries in those green irises, so much love and affection, so much promise and joy, accompanied with heat and want, and it’s all there for him.

Carlos nods and dives down, a passionate kiss erupting between them and TK lets Carlos take control and the lead, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now. To feel TK, in every way. TK runs a hand through Carlos’s curls while the other cups his face.

“You’re beautiful, Ty,” Carlos admires. “Every inch of you, all of you, it’s you and it’s beautiful beyond words.”

The love and sincerity echoing off Carlos’s tone melts TK into a puddle. His heart swells in his chest at those words, knowing they come from the bottom of Carlos’s heart. He sees and feels the love Carlos has for him every minute of every day.

And TK will do everything in his power to make Carlos feel just as loved as he feels.

“You’re quite breathtaking yourself,” TK replies, his voice filled with emotion. “In every way. And it blows my mind that you’re mine.”

Carlos nods. “I am yours, and you are mine. My mind is just as blown as yours.”  

They soon become a heap of tangled limbs, last pieces of clothing taken off and discarded here and there. The flame now burns brightly and hotly between them, the sparks surging through their bodies as they become one, electrified by each other in every way, roused by each other’s everything. They give each other their all, pouring everything they’re feeling and everything they are and it’s all understood, it’s reciprocated, it’s everything they need. And it’s perfect.

*****

Later in the night, TK is lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through Instagram when a text pops up on the top of his screen. He laughs when his eyes go over the words.

Marjan: You’re welcome, lover boy. ;)

TK: How did you even…

Marjan: Intuition. Also, I saw that Carlos watched that video. Plus, you looked smug leaving the firehouse after shift. Just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

TK: I thought it was Paul’s thing to be, well…this.

Marjan: I have my moments, too.

Marjan: And Paul had agreed with me.

TK chuckles, hearing the smirk Marjan is most definitely wearing through her texts.

He hears footsteps making their way into the bedroom and he’s about to mention the text conversation to Carlos but the words stop short on his tongue when his eyes land on his boyfriend.

Carlos is standing tall, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and in all his glory, is wearing TK’s black Austin FD hoodie.

And by the look decorating the officer’s face, he knows exactly what it’s doing to TK. Sure, it’s not a clingy t-shirt while working out, but he knows how much TK loves hoodies. It’s a subtle comeback, and with how TK is looking at him right now and the pink color painting his cheeks, it’s working.

The text messages go forgotten as TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s figure, admiring the way his hoodie wraps around Carlos’s chest and arms. It’s a little snug at the biceps, and that just adds to the exquisite sight in front of him.

“Touché,” TK grins approvingly.

Carlos chuckles and pushes himself off the door frame, walking over and joining TK in bed.

“I was looking for it and then I remembered it was in the dryer,” Carlos says, pulling the blankets over them.

“I’m glad you found it,” TK winks and brushes a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “You look good in my hoodie.”

He accepts the invitation of Carlos’s open arms and snuggles close, resting his head over Carlos’s chest and draping an arm over his middle.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” Carlos looks at TK, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

TK lifts his head so he looks into Carlos’s eyes. “I love you.”

Carlos’s face breaks into a soft smile, the smile that is reserved for only TK. “I love you, too, baby.”

They share a tentative kiss, tender and sweet.

“Oh!” TK says when they pull apart, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for his phone.

Carlos raises an amused eyebrow at his boyfriend and his phone pings a moment later.

He reaches for it and the text preview on his lock screen has him looking at TK with a fiery gaze.

TK blushes more under Carlos’s watch as a smirk takes over his face.

“You asked and you shall receive,” TK quips.

It’s the sweaty selfie Carlos was promised earlier. It’s more defined than the video, though the video had the grace of TK moving in that t-shirt, but the selfie holds the wonder of being up-close. The video hadn’t left anything to imagination, but the selfie goes a step further, not only showing the very satisfied look TK is wearing, but also showoff the edges of his well-defined abs, his strained biceps and the glint in his eyes, speaking volumes through the photo. It’s all on display for Carlos, and for Carlos only now.

And even though TK is right here, right next to him and he can reach out and touch everything in that picture, the selfie still leaves Carlos breathless. The effect TK has on him has Carlos going a little lightheaded, a familiar sensation of want brewing in his gut.

“Oh, Ty,” Carlos whispers before capturing TK’s lips in a kiss more heated than the previous one.

TK chuckles as he returns it, all-consumed by the rush that runs through his veins with his and Carlos’s tongues brush against each other.

“You know,” Carlos pants, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips, TK following the gesture. “I have a couple more shirts you can borrow.”

“Hm,” TK replies, drawing in his own bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

Carlos smirks, a hand cupping TK’s face and runs his thumb over his cheek.

TK chuckles, a hand traveling to the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him in, connecting them with another kiss.

[harringrooves]

Inspired by the #cherrylanechallenge day 1 prompt knife but this is not spooky at all so technically this is just a random little ficlet! AO3

The chair outside the principal's office is already taken when Billy gets there. He lets his eyes follow the trail from the clean, white sneakers up the impossibly long stretch of denim clad leg and even further upwards over the two toned striped polo shirt to the moles peeking out from just under the collar.

Steve Harrington glances up at him, then grimaces. Sighs.

"Jesus Christ," Harrington mutters.

"What are you doing here?" Billy grunts. There's no where left to sit, so he flung his jacket onto the linoleum and drops down onto it, back resting against the wall directly opposite Harrington.

Despite the distance of the entire width of the hallway between them, when Billy stretches his legs out the scuffed points of his boots almost touch the edge of Harrington's sneakers.

"Waiting for Mrs Reyes."

"Yeah, no shit."

That earns him a glare from Harrington. Billy's stomach turns a little at the disdain in Harrington's dark eyes, but it's the curiosity shining through that makes him squirm. Like an ant under a magnifying glass.

"Why're you here?"

Billy rolls his eyes, letting the familiar motion draw out the equally familiar sneer. "Same as you, dumbass."

Harrington huffs and turns away again as they both fall silent, glancing at the door every so often as the minutes tick by. It's not at all a comfortable silence. Harrington's not looking at Billy so Billy shouldn't be looking at him. But the walls are blank and the only other remotely interesting thing is the name plaque on the principal's door.

So Billy traces the letters dutifully, keeps going even when he gets nearer to the end of Reyes and stripes creep into the very edge of his vision. Even when he hears Harrington shift in the chair, moving his legs under him onto the seat then over the arms than back down to the floor. Even when Harrington asks, "You go crazy on some kid again?"

Billy goes round and round the shape of the capital R. "No. The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Harrington laughs. It's loud and braying, and not what Billy would've guessed King Steve's laugh would sound like. He imagined something smooth and dark, something that would exude effortless charm with an undertone of something mysteriously rich and out of reach.

It just sounds like a teenage guy laughing, if a teenage guy was also part donkey. Billy would find it funny, if Harrington wasn't laughing at him. "What?" he repeats harshly.

Harrington eventually quiets. "What do I mean? The night at the Byer's, you went like, fully psycho. Your eyes were fucking dead. Did you get like that again, is that why you're here?"

Finally, Billy tears his eyes away from the plaque and meets Harrington's head on. "No," Billy says firmly. "I didn't fucking- no."

Harrington shrugs. "Whatever. Wouldn't surprise me if you did, sooner or later."

That stings. In California he was good at skating and surfing and babysitting and he was top of his class in English and History. Even after she left everyone knew him as Rosaline's boy (never Neil's), with the blonde hair and the yellow surfboard and the white smile that was a little too charming for his own good. Here in Hawkins, he was the Hargrove kid, the one who fucked and ditched, the one who fought and drank.

Maybe Billy's fine with everyone else thinking that about him, but not Harrington. Billy won't let himself think about why, but he wants Harrington see him. To look at him and think he's better than that night.

"I got kicked out of shop class," Billy bites out quietly. Harrington blinks at him.

"You got in a fight in shop-"

"I didn't get in a fight, for fuck's sake!"

Harrington holds his hands up in mock placation, bobbing his head mockingly. "Alright, alright." He stretches his leg out and lazily nudges at Billy's foot. "What'd you do then?"

"Made a knife," Billy mumbles, eyes back on the plaque.

Harrington laughs again. "You what?"

"I made a-"

"A knife, yeah." Harrington cocks his head like a little dog, some of his fringe flopping into his eye. "You know that just makes you sound even crazier, right?"

Billy just shrugs and lets his head fall back against the wall. "Wasn't for me, it was s'posed to be a gift. For- for Max." Harrington freezes.

"You were gonna make Max a knife as a gift?" It sounds like Harrington's struggling with every implication of that sentence. That Billy would gift Max something. That a knife was an appropriate gift. That Billy would care enough about anything to create something hand made.

"Yeah." He can't help but let a little bit of defensiveness slip into his tone. Billy kicks Harrington's foot away, probably a bit harder than necessary. "It was a replica of that one her character has in that stupid game her nerd friends play. Demons in Dungeons, or whatever." Dungeons and Dragons. Billy's not that stupid, but he's also not that shameless to admit to knowing what it's called. "It was a full scaled up one, even got the pattern on the handle half done."

"That's- cool," Harrington says hesitantly. "Didn't know you cared, Hargrove."

"Shitbird's birthday soon. Thought she'd like it." Billy glances over to Harrington, who's watching him with narrowed eyes. Billy coughs, shifting his shoulders a little to roll off the weight of the scrutiny. "Doesn't matter, that fucker Morrison confiscated it anyway."

Silence falls again, still just as awkward as last time but lacking a large amount of the hostility. Harrington's still watching him. The plaque's lost it's draw and Billy resorts to tracing the seams of his jeans with a fingernail.

"I'm failing English," Harrington offers abruptly. Billy's head snaps up, but for the first time Harrington's looking away as he speaks. "That's why I'm here. They're not sure if I'm gonna graduate."

"Sucks," Billy says roughly. Harrington nods slowly.

"Yeah."

Billy swallows, fingers clenching into fists atop his thighs. "I could, uh, give you my notes."

"Why would I need your notes?"

"'Cause you're failing English." Billy doesn't mean to say it like Harrington's an idiot, but those big brown eyes are wide and confused, like he's never thought about actually asking for help. "And 'cause I'm acing it."

Harrington's nose wrinkles in obvious disbelief, but he doesn't challenge it. He just sighs and lets his head loll to the side, propped up by his fist. "Yeah. Whatever. I'll do anything, at this point."

Billy nods silently. Harrington opens his mouth again, but he's interrupted by the click of the office door finally opening. Mrs Reyes pokes her head out.

"Steve," she greets him warmly. Her eyes slide over to Billy on the floor and her lips thin ever so slightly. "William."

"Hi," Billy says as obnoxiously peppy as he can manage.

"I'll see to you in a minute, after I've spoken with Steve." And then Harrington steps through into the office and the door swings shut once again.

Billy could get up and sit in the now vacant chair, but he stays right where he is until it's his turn to be called in. Harrington looks at him as he passes him in the doorway, but it's obvious that he's a million miles away, frowning at Billy but his mind no doubt occupied by something else.

Mrs Reyes doesn't ask what happened, just gives him a Friday detention and a lecture on how badly his behaviour is going to affect his record and how that's such a shame given his academic achievements. Billy lets it wash over him, not bothering to really pay attention. He's heard it all before.

When school lets out and Billy makes his way out the Camaro, he almost trips over his feet at the sight of Steve Harrington leaning against his car, twirling a knife in his long fingers.

"Here," Harrington says as soon as Billy gets close enough, holding the knife out to him blade first. Billy takes it gingerly and slips it into his jacket pocket.

"How'd you get it back?"

Harrington's chest puffs up in some god awful display of smugness as he smirks at Billy. "Morrison leaves his office unlocked during lunch. Everyone knows, it's like the number one place to make out. I was in an out, the couple in there didn't even notice me."

"That's disgusting. But, thanks, I guess-"

"Don't." Harrington holds up a hand, wincing a little. "I didn't do it for you, I think Max will really like the gift so if anything, I did it for her. And consider this payment for the notes."

"Payment?" Billy's brow furrows. "I didn't ask you to pay me." But now that Harrington's mentioned it, he definitely should have. Harrington's rich, everyone knows that. Billy could've got an easy $100 or some of the good weed Tommy's always talking about Harrington having.

"And now you don't have to," Harrington says smugly. "I give you the knife, you give me the notes. I don't want you asking me a month down the track to give you like $80 or a bag of weed or whatever in return. So there's the knife, aaaaand we're even."

Billy glowers as Harrington grins smarmily at him. "Fine. We're even. Now fuck off, some of us got places to be."

Harrington dutifully pushes off the Camaro, walking backwards towards his own car a few rows over. "Cool. Give me the notes whenever this week."

Billy doesn't say bye, just gets in his car and drives off, studiously not watching the fading image of Steve Harrington in his rear view mirror.

...

Max loves the knife. She doesn't hug him, but she nudges his shoulder with hers and declares that she's going to tie it to her belt and carry it with her at all times from now on. Neil goes purple trying to hold back his commentary on just how ladylike and appropriate for a young woman that is. Billy gets a cuff to the back of the head later, but it's worth it.

Harrington does get to graduate. He leans over from his seat beside Billy's (alphabetical order) during the opening speech of the graduation ceremony and whispers closer than necessary into Billy's ear, "Thanks, man." He doesn't so much as glance at Billy for the rest of the three hour ceremony, or during the party later that night that goes until daybreak the next morning, but it's worth it.

Billy bides his time. He can handle one more summer if it means getting enough cash to be independent when he leaves for college in a few months. Neil sucks as much as always, and driving Max everywhere cuts into the hours he's able to put in at the pool, but when she drags him to the new mall after his shift and right into the blissfully cool ice cream shop, Steve Harrington's eyes catch tellingly on the bare skin between the bottom of Billy's crop top and his tiny, red shorts and it's so, so fucking worth it.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

six ways to tell you I love you

Hello lovelies! This fic is a result of the lovely @NotYourBitch playing the little challenge I had going (and still do have going) on my previous fic (my handprint on her ass cheek) and winning one of the two fic prizes I had! Thank you for the prompt my sweet and I hope you enjoy this. It was genuinely so much fun <3 also I know I said the prize was a drabble but lmao this got a little out of hand

And I am once again asking that we all pretend this is edited and ignore the fact that it most definitely isn't thank you I heart you

Also I have no idea what's happening with the spacing right now tumblr is literally falling apart. Reading on ao3 may be easier and more peaceful but if you choose tumblrs hell ish violence cheers to that bro

[all images have alt text]

Percy is on to them. He’s been onto them for weeks. And he is enjoying himself immensely.

Seduction Attempt #1: make him his favourite breakfast food (pancakes with blueberries and too much syrup) in bed

—Rachel, because between the two of them she’s the only one who can cook.

—Completion Status: 10%

Percy has thought about retaliating, so to speak, but so far he’s enjoying their back and forth. Rachel does something and Annabeth gets that gleam in her eye that tells him they’re all in for a show when she thinks up her next trick. A few days later Annabeth does something and Rachel stares so long Percy can practically see the drawing outlines she’s trying to make of her next idea. They've been friends for six years and still they never fail to surprise or amuse him.

Seduction Attempt #2: take him to the stone castle on the hillside near the sea so he can feel like a princess overlooking his kingdom

—Annabeth, because she could use the ‘im interested in the architecture’ cover

—Completion status: 25%

Percy strikes the last dummy down, and pockets Riptide with a small grin. Hardly anything satisfies him more than a successful sparring session with his favourite straw opponents. Sweat drips down his temple, tickling at his skin. Collapsing against the padded wall of the training room he tugs at the edge of his shirt and swipes it across his face, adding to the dark patches already decorating it. The sun is just setting, casting burnt orange glows across the wood floors. If he had the camera his parents bought him three birthdays ago he would have used up far too much film capturing this exact moment. He guzzles down water, lets it soothe his aching muscles and tired eyes. Sleep is on the come and go, and while he is not always exhausted the way he used to be, tiredness still clings to him like dew on glass. He wonders if he makes it look half as pretty as the morning is.

“Only if you did something you think you should be in trouble for?” She matches his expression.

“Only if you did something you think you should be in trouble for?” She matches his expression.

“Only if you did something you think you should be in trouble for?” She matches his expression.

“Then I'm not in trouble, mom.”

She sits down next to him, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“What did you need me for?”

She pulls her knees up to her chest, rests her chin on them. Like this she looks like a baby bird waiting to fly the nest. Both eager and nervous, excited for the big blue world and scared for what’s in it.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” She starts.

He can’t help but tease. “Yes, been having them for twenty one years so i’m pretty used to them by now.”

“Shut up,” She laughs, “Annabeth and I want to do something for you, with you.” And there’s so much vulnerability in her forest green eyes as she turns to look at him. “If you’d let us. If you’d like that.”

Seduction Attempt #3: Aquarium

—Annabeth and Rachel, so he wouldn’t get suspicious about what they were trying to achieve (spoiler alert he was suspicious two attempts ago)

—Completion Status: 50%

“Mhmm,” He frowns, “Let me think: spend my birthday with my two favourite people, or spend it doing who knows what at camp?”

She shoves him gently again, this time falling with him so by the time he rights himself she’s pressed into his side. The fire warmth to his ocean cool and Annabeth’s even stone.

“What do you two have planned?”

“Can’t say. Big surprises.”

He turns to stare at her, eyes wider than comical. “The last time you guys surprised me we ended up with pastry dough in the plug sockets.”

“I promise no cooking or baking of any kind from either of us.”

Their laughter melts into the sunlight, and by the time he goes to bed that evening he is glowing with a warmth nothing but happiness can carve. Maybe in another life, he’ll become an honorary child of Hestia. Maybe in another life he will inherit her place at the Hearth. For he is sure, this feeling. This ethereal, gentle light that sits deep within him is what makes up the goddess of home.

Seduction Attempt #4: Orange picking in the Citrus Groves

—Rachel, because oranges are her favourite fruit, and orange blossoms remind him of his mom

—Completion Status: 65%

The first thing he smells is burning wax, tinged with a slightly sweet scent… like frosting. Percy Jackson opens his eyes, and sees a bright grey gaze and a blue, honey-glazed cupcake.

“Happy Birthday Seaweed Brain!” She jumps on him, settling her legs on either side of his hips. “Are you ready for the greatest adventure of your life?”

“Thought that was the week you told me we were going to Six Flags and you ended up taking us to Vegas instead?”

“That was fun,” She pouts, memories flashing across her face. “But this doesn't compare to that so be prepared.”

“Is it a good kind of be prepared?” He bites into the cupcake, failing to keep the groan in as it melts on his tongue. “Or a ‘Scar is singing his villain song’ be prepared?”

“Special order from the Aphrodite cabin,” She nods at the cake, curls bouncing. “And it's the best kind of prepared.”

“What should I wear?” He smiles up at her.

"Your outfit is hanging next to your basin. Be ready in twenty. We leave after breakfast." And with a peck to his forehead and another whispered “Happy Birthday Pers” she's gone.

Seduction Attempt #5: Road trip listening to the mixtapes he used to make

—Annabeth, because she's the only one who can stay awake during car rides

—Completion Status: 80%

Percy gets ready in ten minutes and then spends the next on an iris message with his family. Sally and Paul had insisted he stay at camp till after the summer was over. He knows they're onto whatever his girls have planned. Estelle blows a lot of bubbles at him– she's obsessively happy about her new toy, the Bubble Wand That Never Fails– and then gives him a toothy grin before running away. Her little pigtails bounce, making them lopsided and it's everything in him not to reach through the rainbow and fix it.

“Enjoy the day Percy,” His mom says, ocean blue eyes twinkling at him. Oh they definitely know.

“Take lots of pictures!” Paul’s wink makes him laugh.

“See you guys in a few weeks.”

The bell for breakfast rings out across the camp just as he swipes a hand through the rainbow. With a final glance at his outfit— blue crop top, fading jeans, sneakers, Annabeth's Yankees cap, and Riptide— he's both extremely curious and only slightly nervous for what the day holds.

Breakfast is a fanfare of birthday wishes and far too much cake. The dining pavillion had been decorated in blue streamers and little ocean themed confetti, water dissolvable and the exact colours of his eyes in different lighting. It never fails to amaze him how much people are willing to do for him, to celebrate him. He's met with hugs and laughter and a lot of hair ruffling. For once nobody sits at their assigned cabin tables. Everyone is enjoying the Percy Specials that come with his breakfast and excitedly telling stories about the adventures they'd been on together.

His sadness comes in waves, flooding him. It feels cool to the touch. And relieving. Every year, his birthday is tinged with this blue. Like clear springs. Layering and lapping at every moment in the day. Collecting stones labelled “I'm growing up”/ “I wish the people I lost were here to celebrate with me”/ “another year of my life goes by, did I do enough?”

“Pers,” Rachel and Annabeth saddle up to him, twin grins on their freckled faces. “You ready?”

“Take me away, my lieges.” He holds out his hands and they each grab one.

“Thanks for breakfast everyone!” He shouts over the din of the pavilion. There's cheers and holler in response and then he's practically sprinting towards the woods, laughing as warm hands tug him along. Curls in ash blonde and fire red flying behind them. The three of them together make the blaze.

Rachel with her inferno, Annabeth with her wispy end, and him with his pitch charr aftermath.

“You guys are certainly in a rush,”

“We have an itinerary planned we can't be late.”

They eventually stop in an clearing surrounded by juniper trees. He can feel the nymphs have made themselves scare. The earth is not humming the way it usually does when they are here.

“Alright,” Rachel turns to him, “Put this on and when we say look you can take it off and behold!”

He takes the soft green sash from her, letting the material run through his fingers, catching it before it can fall away entirely.

"Is this necessary?" Amusement tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes," Annabeth nods firmly, "We worked really hard on this so you just gotta trust us.”

“I do.” His voice is softer now, but there's an edge to it that only exists in hard truths. They must never doubt that.

"We know," Rachel smiles gently. "Now on, and no peeking.”

He hears shuffling and some whispering. He swears he hears Nico but brushes it aside when a not even thirty seconds later hands take his own.

“Ready?” Annabeth asks.

“Of course.” He squeezes the hands in his.

Suddenly his body is being pulled out of itself. Tingling sensations running up his spine like marathon winners. His legs are four years in front of him and his shoulders are still being born. He feels like melting butter. And then everything stops. And he is one and the same again. Hands are still in his and the ground is still below him.

“What just happened?”

“We shadow traveled.” Annabeth speaks up.

“So Nico was here.”

“Very briefly but yes.” It's Rachel this time. “Okay Pers.” He can hear their inhales. Deeper, more grounding than normal. He knows they glance at each other. Can feel it in the way their bodies turn towards him, towards one another.

“You can take off the blindfold.”

He pulls at the knot behind his head and let's the green silk slip off his eyes into his palm. The light change overwhelms him for a second before he blinks into focus. And what he sees makes his lungs collapse.

Seduction Attempt #6: take him to the planetarium and manipulate the stars into a new constellation that reads, “will you be ours?”

—Annabeth and Rachel, because they love him across space and time. Across universes. Forever.

—Completion Status: 100%

[americasass81]

Peeling Back The Layers

Warnings:- Implied Body Image Issues, Fluff, M & F Smut.  Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.  Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N:- This came about due to @saiyanprincessswanie love of Brock Rumlow, my dislike of him and a challenge to myself to see if I could turn him into a fairly decent human being with actual feelings.  Well Missy, let me know if I pulled it off.

Pairing:- soft!Brock Rumlow x Reader

Word Count:- 2,614

Leaving the shop after a successful day shopping, you were so wrapped up in the excitement of getting back out into the world that you forgot to take stock of the people milling around you.  Feeling the sudden push from an authoritarian looking woman with her nose so far up in the air it could probably injure some unsuspecting bird, you prepared to meet the ground and lose your precious cargo.  Catching your arm before you could fall however, your breath caught from fear or something else, you weren't sure.  Looking up into the hazel eyes of a gruff looking soldier type figure, your senses stopped spinning long enough to realize that not only had he prevented you from sustaining a horrible fall, but everything had happened so fast that your purchases were still intact. 

Smiling shyly back at him as he still held you while you pulled yourself together, you failed to notice the lingering looks he sent your way or vice versa.  Living a few houses apart, you would have to be blind and deaf not to recognize your would-be knight or remember the things the neighbors said about him.  Brock Rumlow, though slim, gruff and powerful, was someone you had noticed on those days you felt well enough to tend your beautiful garden.  Though by no means fragile, your health left you a bit exhausted from time to time, but it in no way diminished your appetite for life.  And this too was something Brock had noticed.

Finally composing yourself, you thanked him for coming to your rescue, but he simply flashed you what could only be considered a roguish smile before releasing you.  Afraid your legs were going to give out again, albeit for different reasons now, you decided to take advantage of your rumbling stomach and asked Brock if he would care to join you for lunch.  Agreeing straight away, he asked if you wanted to drop off your purchases at your car, but when you told him you had chosen to take a taxi, he came to your aid once again.

"Well now, that just won't do.  I was actually just on my way back to my car.  How about we drop your stuff off there, head to lunch and I can drive you home later.  We're both going in the same direction anyway." he offered and you had to admit it did make sense.

Thinking of how it would look coming home with someone considered to be pond scum, but then not really caring, you smiled back at him, nodded your head and walked beside him towards his car.  Talking and listening along the way, you soon discovered that the old saying of don't believe everything you hear could have been written with Brock mind.  Though looking like he could snap a man in half without breaking a sweat and having a reputation for going after anything in a skirt he, like you, actually loved nature and you could find your skin heating up a bit when he began heaping praise on your garden.

Finally having stashed away all your stuff, you headed off to one of your favorite restaurants where you both tucked into a glorious meal of spaghetti with red wine.  Surprised when Brock ordered the same, he chuckled while telling you he wasn't a complete neanderthal, all while regaling you with tales of his last trip to Paris.  Watching intently as his eyes lit up while he explained in animated detail his love of various parts of the city, a part of you wondered how this man, who seemed to hide a deep romantic side, was still single.

Forgetting your manners in the wonder of his conversation, you actually blurted this out, but he simply smiled a bit sadly as he told you of his last failed relationship and how since then he had been a bit more careful with his heart.  Shocked to discover that someone like him could also taste the sting of rejection and be so changed by it, you were quickly reminded that being human too, his heart and emotions could just as easily shatter.

Sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere, he easily lightened the mood by informing you that there had since become someone to whom he has taken a liking.  Returning to your meal as he told you of the strong, kind and beautiful young woman who now held his heart, you nearly choked on your food as this handsome mountain of a man reached forward, took your hand in his and kissed it tenderly before winking at you.  Staring back at him as if he had suddenly grown two heads, he held his hands up and chuckled once more.  "Oh, dear, I'm going to scare you away.”

"No.  No really . . . I'm fine." you reassured, taking a generous mouthful of your wine.

"Yeah?" he grinned, questioningly.

"I'm fine." you repeated, taking a few deep breaths to steady your racing heartbeat.  "It's just that I don't understand what someone like you could possibly see in . . . "

"A plain Jane like you?" he interrupted, parroting back the words you had only ever uttered to your reflection in those private moments when you were being overly hard on yourself.

Looking anywhere but at him, he reached out for your hand once more and ran his thumb gently along the back of it until you finally lifted your eyes to his.  Gazing at the light reflected in his golden orbs, you felt yourself sinking into him as you tried to respond to his statement.  "Ex-exactly." you stuttered.  "I mean, you've traveled the world, served your country, and I'm just the girl you loves reading and gardening.  Not exactly compatible." you added, slipping your hand from his as the waiter came to collect your empty plates.

Taking a moment to compose yourself while Brock ordered dessert, you found yourself staring a bit too long at the specimen before.  Rugged good looks in a not too obvious way, his hazel eyes and short brown hair had images flashing before your eyes of him gazing up at you from between your legs as your fingers nestled in his spiky locks.  Shaking your head and blaming the wine as you tried to remove the offending image, it didn't help any when you two were at last alone again and Brock could see the rattled look on your face.

"You doing okay there, gorgeous?" he asked and you nodded slowly hoping your expression wouldn't betray the thoughts your brain had been producing.  Groaning inwardly when the waiter returned shortly after with chocolate covered strawberries, you rubbed your thighs together under the table in the hopes of somehow relieving the sensation building in your core.

Smirking at you as he brought the delicacy to his lips before biting down on it, you wondered if he could somehow read what your body was hiding.  Chewing quickly before dropping the remainder of the fruit into his mouth, he then picked up another and reaching across the table, held it out before you.  Opening your mouth to take the offered dessert, he pulled it back playfully before moving it forward once again.  This time leaving it for you to reach, your tongue shot out and licked a streak of chocolate off the fruit and it was now his turn to groan at your wanton behavior.

Enjoying the rest of the dessert in good spirits, you bit your lip as you wondered if you should address the matter of his past.  Ever since he settled in the neighborhood, talk had been rife about the type of soldier he was and the things he had done.  Suspecting what was now on your mind by your anxious expression, he asked if perhaps this conversation could wait for a more private location.  Agreeing without hesitation, he then helped you from the table and paying the bill, walked you from the restaurant back to his car.

Driving in silence back to your house, he opened your car door before helping you carry your purchases indoors.  Walking up the path to your house, he stopped to admire your daisy path and you found it somewhat endearing as it really was your pride and joy.  Welcoming him inside as you both placed down your shopping, you offered to mix up some margaritas on the rocks while he wandered around your home, though remaining within your view.

Working seamlessly around your kitchen, you quickly whipped up a batch of the splendidly delicious beverage before joining Brock in the living room to find him running his hand along your over burdened bookshelf.  Handing him the glass, you took a sip while walking towards the couch before sitting down.  Following your lead, Brock joined you, though kept himself at a respectful distance.  Taking a generous mouthful, he nodded approvingly before setting down the glass and facing you.

Telling you all about his days as a government operative and admitting that some of the things he was required to do were the reason he was now an ordinary civilian, you suspected the guilt he obviously carried might also be part of the reason his relationships had crumpled.  Getting up to refill your now empty glasses, you returned and sitting down on the table in front of him, cupped his cheek and reassured him that his past was not an issue for you and did not define who he would be going forward.

Smiling up at your tender expression, he reached forward slowly and placing his lips against yours, he tentatively kissed you while waiting for you to pull away.  Remaining still as his soft lips met yours again while his warm, wet tongue seeked entry, his hand moving to your thigh released a moan allowing his tongue to meet yours.  Pulling you forward onto his lap as his lips and tongue explored your mouth and smothered your moans, his hands began to work under your top as your hands went to his shirt.

Pulling back eventually to draw some oxygen into your lungs, you both smiled at each other before reaching for your drinks and downing them rather quickly.  Removing your top, you maneuvered yourself off his lap before reaching out and taking his hand.  Gazing up at you through lust-filled eyes, you bit your lip under his intense gaze before speaking.  "Take me to bed and make love to me Brock.  Please." you begged and was thoroughly delighted when he rose from the couch, removed his own top and told you to lead the way.

Tossing you gently on the bed, he looked down on you in your bra and leggings as your chest rose and fell under his hooded gaze.  Licking his lips and winking at you as his hands descended to the waistband of his jeans, he swiftly undid his pants, pulled everything down and kicking off his shoes, stalked towards you.

Suddenly very self conscious of how you looked in comparison to this god, you reached for the throw only to find the task halted.  "Hey gorgeous, don't do that.  Let me see all of you." he pleaded as he coaxed the throw out of your slightly trembling hand.  Sitting down next to you, he then pulled you into a sitting position before speaking again.  "You've heard the worst of who I am and what I've done and you're still willing to give me a chance.  Let me see how beautiful you are."

Nodding your acquiescence, Brock pushed you back once more before claiming your lips once again.  Kissing you tenderly while his hands roamed over your body, you soon found his head resting at the top of your leggings as his stubble covered chin worked its way left and right across your stomach.  Laughing at the burn and tickling sensation he was creating, he took advantage of your distraction and peeled said leggings down your legs until he yanked both them and your shoes off your person.

Tossing the now useless items aside, Brock then proceeded to treat your lower body to the same treatment as your upper body and soon you were nothing more than a writhing, moaning mess beneath him.  Satisfied with his progress thus far, he then kissed his way back up your body, while his fingers found your panty clad core.  Peppering your tits, neck and lips with butterfly kisses as he worked his hand up and down your moistening folds, he didn’t stop until your body shook and you called out his name.

Grinning at you like some Cheshire cat, you swatted his chest, but being that he had just pulled you apart, your heart wasn't really in it.  Laughing at your feeble attempt, he placed his forehead against yours as he brought his moist fingers to your lips.  Smearing your release along your lips, he then sucked the excess off before kissing you once more.�� "Has anyone ever told you you taste delicious, gorgeous?" he asked and you turned your head away to hide your embarrassment.

Moving his hand down to grab his shaft and push your panties aside, he coaxed you to look at him once more while he coated his impressive length in your juices.  "Tell me you trust me,  gorgeous." he said as his tip slipped in before returning to your folds.

"I trust you Brock.  Go on." you urged with a smile and a kiss as his tip entered you once more.  This time, holding your hips before leaning forward to kiss you gently, he sheathed himself within your heat in one powerful thrust.  Capturing your moan with his mouth, he stayed in place as he nuzzled his chin along neck.

Waiting until you could no longer take it, he chuckled when you whined out his name.  "It's okay, I got you." he whispered against your ear as his hips finally began to move against yours.  Thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace as his lips continued to suck and dance along your skin, he felt his past slipping away as his name left your lips in a worshipped chant over and over and over again.  Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think his name could be spoken with such love and reverence.  Eventually feeling your walls begin to clench around him as the pressure in your core tightened, Brock snaked his hand beneath your panties and finding your clit, worked his magic until you shattered beneath him and came like you never had before.

Trying to get your breathing back under control, Brock continued to work you through your orgasm while his cock began to pound into you in earnest.  Recognizing the stirrings of another release, this time as you cried out your protests, you both came together as wave after wave of bliss radiated throughout your body and Brock's cum painted every inch of your pussy.

Kissing you tenderly as his softening cock gently moved within you, he finally released you and leaving the room, returned with a damp cloth.  Too dazed to wonder where he got it, you relaxed against the pillows as he removed your panties and cleaned you up before placing you under the covers and sliding in beside you.  Closing your eyes knowing full well that Brock would be gone by morning, you drifted off to sleep totally unaware of the profound effect you had on him.  Laying there with you nestled safely in his arms, he finally felt like the parts of himself he hated could now at long last be sent into the aether as a bright new future stretched out before him with a woman who accepted and loved every part of him.

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie

[hualianff]

Untethered (Bonus I) 《III》

In the Shadow of Ghosts — The Newton Brothers

Three years ago….

Tap. Tap.

Xie Lian thinks he imagines it at first. After all, it had been a long day of handling commoners’ affairs, entertaining visiting royalty, and carrying out other menial tasks that are required of him as a prince. Not that he minds too much. Xie Lian thoroughly enjoys helping whoever he can and making the kingdom a better place for his people.

But it is exhausting work, and takes both a mental and physical toll on Xie Lian. This is why more often than not, on busy days like this, he requests the servants to have a bath drawn right before he retires to his room for the night. The steaming hot water mixed with Xie Lian’s favorite-scented bath salts loosen his muscles wonderfully, as well as clear his senses.

In the dimly lit washroom, Xie Lian lets himself unwind. It’s a gradual process, one that his body initially rejects after being so wound up for hours on end. Xie Lian lathers a dollop of lavender oil along his waist-length hair, holding it above the water to let the oil properly soak in before rinsing it under the spout.

Simply put, Xie Lian chalks the strange noise up to his restless mind making him hear things that are not there. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

Besides, who in their right mind would dare break into a prince’s bedroom chambers, where royal guards surround the premise?

Tap.

At the dusk of twilight?

Tap!

Xie Lian is sure no one is crazy about him enough to scale the palace walls to the third level-

Tap.

-except for someone coming to assassinate him!?

Tap tap tap tap tap-

Okay, now that he didn’t imagine. That incessant tapping is very real.

“Goodness me-” Xie Lian mutters, dunking his head under the water in a lame attempt to hastily clean his hair. He then stumbles out of the tub to grab a gown, flinging it around his body to cover himself up.

Luckily, there are no windows in the washroom. The doors also remain shut, providing the prince with the utmost privacy during his bath times, but also serving as a protective barrier at this moment. However, the distinct tapping continues, clearly coming from the other side of the doors.

Against his better judgment, Xie Lian flattens himself against the wall next to the entrance and knocks back.

The tapping stops.

A muffled “Your Highness” follows in response.

Xie Lian’s stomach violently drops at the familiar drawl. It couldn’t be...

“Prince Xianle,” his tempter calls again.

Xie Lian quietly gasps.

The prince cautiously opens the doors leading into his bedroom. He spots a silhouetted figure standing outside on his balcony, and if the build and height were not a familiar sight, Xie Lian would certainly be freaking out more. By subconsciously wrapping the robe tighter around himself–Xie Lian realizes just how flimsy and inappropriate the garment is for others to set eyes on–and approaches the glass doors

He also realizes he does not care.

Xie Lian pulls aside the sheer, golden velvet curtains.

A lanky, strong-built man in dashing red attire greets him through the glass. Xie Lian’s eyes bulge impossibly wide, mouth parting in surprise.

Crimson Rain grins like the devil he is. He doesn’t say anything more, letting the devious look in his eye do the speaking. When the pirate captain lifts a palm to lay flat against the glass door’s surface, Xie Lian feels a growing urge to intertwine it with his own.

Xie Lian places his own palm on the opposite side of the glass. He knows how terrible of an idea it is to enable intruders onto palace grounds, to let Hua Cheng in and the detrimental repercussions awaiting if they were found out.

City of Stars – Yan Chaojie

Th-th-th-th-thump. Hua Cheng drums his fingers upon the glass, raising an expectant eyebrow. Xie Lian stubbornly shakes his head, making a cutting motion at his neck. The pirate seems to take this as a challenge. He can probably see how close Xie Lian is to giving in, just needs one last push to lure the prince in opening the doors to his chambers.

Hua Cheng frames both hands against the glass, blowing hot air in between, effectively fogging up the surface. He draws a massive heart in the condensation. Xie Lian fails to bite back his smile, yet another one of his actions Hua Cheng notices with a smug look.

The pirate proceeds to drag his finger through practiced strokes, writing backward so Xie Lian can read normally on his side. From where he observes, the concentration apparent on Hua Cheng’s face greatly amuses Xie Lian. The characters are still barely legible. Fortunately, Xie Lian has the experience in deciphering Crimson Rain’s infamous scrawl with the intermittent letters he receives.

谢怜 x 三郎

Xie Lian’s face twists in confusion. He immediately unlocks the glass doors, yanking them to the side.

“Who is San Lang?” Xie Lian demands with a pout, forgetting all about his current state of appearance. Hua Cheng smiles into his fist, then graciously enters Xie Lian’s bedroom.

“Another name I go by,” the pirate answers nonchalantly, sliding the door closed behind him. He towers over Xie Lian, dressed in his trademark black heeled-boots with silver chains, whereas Xie Lian’s feet are bare. Plus, Hua Cheng has only continued to grow since the first time they crossed past nearly two years ago. “Should the weather permit fog in the next few days and anyone happens to see, they will not be able to connect San Lang to me.”

“Hua Cheng, your fingerprints are all over the glass,” Xie Lian reminds in exasperation. Hua Cheng frowns when he is addressed, as if he had eaten something not to his liking. He seamlessly replaces it with a mischievous smirk.

“My fingerprints are not documented in the first place,” he says.

“Oh, I see.”

Pirates abide not by any kingdom’s rule but by the laws of the ocean.

Hua Cheng briefly turns to look back at the fading image of their names, his expression calculated but determined once he meets Xie Lian’s gaze again.

“I believe it would also be safest if you referred to me-” Hua Cheng points to the door. “-as such.”

“As what?”

“...”

“How should I call you?”

Hua Cheng narrows his brooding eye.

“Why ask when you already know the answer?”

“Just spit it out, Crimson Rain.” Xie Lian smiles cheekily.

“Your Highness, do not test me.”

Despite his threatening words, Hua Cheng’s posture is stiff, and can even be described as awkward. His arms have obediently remained by his side the entire time, keeping a respectful distance away from Xie Lian. The prince laughs out loud at how constipated Hua Cheng looks.

Without further adieu, Xie Lian throws himself at the taller man. He glomps onto Hua Cheng like a child grabbing onto a stuffed animal, straining his arms to grasp around the pirate’s broad shoulders.

“If San Lang ever wants a hug, he needs only to ask,” Xie Lian admonishes light-heartedly, squishing his cheek against Hua Cheng’s sternum. Hua Cheng chuckles happily, body finally relaxing into the embrace. He winds his arms around Xie Lian’s middle.

“Gege’s benevolence knows no bounds,” Hua Cheng murmurs tenderly. Xie Lian squeezes tighter around him, having no intentions of letting go soon. He missed his pirate dearly, after all. Three months apart had felt like three years. “This San Lang is gladly indebted to His Highness.”

Hua Cheng gently caresses Xie Lian’s head but pauses when he realizes how slippery the prince’s hair is. The pirate rolls the end of a strand between his fingers, droplets of water escaping the tips.

“Gege, did you recently wash?” he asks. Xie Lian shyly nods, containing his blush when Hua Cheng slightly pulls back to take in his satin gown.

“I was bathing when you arrived,” Xie Lian says. With some space between them, Xie Lan realizes with horror that his damp hair created a huge wet spot on the front of Hua Cheng’s robes.

Before he can apologize, Hua Cheng quickly ushers Xie Lian to sit on the cushioned stool in front of his vanity, muttering “please forgive this San Lang for his untimely intrusion” and “allow me to tend to gege’s hair as atonement for such despicable behavior.”

Xie Lian doesn’t know what to say. Hua Cheng’s submissive words render him speechless. It’s a stark contrast to the way Hua Cheng treated him in the beginning, when they were just rivals holding each other at swordpoint. Only in the last year have they been secretly meeting without the pretense of dueling, and even then, Xie Lian only sees Hua Cheng every few months, whenever the pirate happens to sail near Xianle Kingdom. It would be unfathomable for his past self to consider Crimson Rain anything less than a cunning, vicious pirate.

Now, Hua Cheng stands in the Prince of Xianle’s private chambers, offering to brush his hair.

Xie Lian stares wordlessly at Hua Cheng’s reflection. Hua Cheng’s earnest expression does not fade. How absurd it is that a captain of his own pirate ship would reduce himself to the duty of a simple palace servant. Though the thought often crosses his mind, Xie Lian hasn’t turned Hua Cheng in yet. It feels somewhat treasonous to excuse a pirate trespassing and sneaking around on Xianle territory.

Then again, Hua Cheng hasn’t stirred up trouble in public for one whole year. He merely comes back for Xie Lian. This notion alone makes Xie Lian giddy inside.

Xie Lian reaches for a lavishly jeweled comb, then presents it to Hua Cheng. The pirate accepts the comb with a grateful hum, then takes hold of Xie Lian’s wrist to press his lips to the top of his hand.

Xie Lian’s heart sings.

“Would gege be partial to sharing what a day in Prince Xianle’s life looks like?” Hua Cheng asks as he releases Xie Lian’s hand. He begins running the comb through the prince’s long, weighted locks, effortlessly detangling the lower ends. The sensations are heavenly.

“Only if San Lang tells me what a day in Crimson Rain’s life looks like after,” Xie Lian answers with a sluggish tongue. Through the mirror, he sees Hua Cheng smile in satisfaction. Xie Lian slowly closes his eyes as the continuous brushing motions to his hair send pleasant tingles down his spine.

“Whatever His Highness wishes.”

《Bonus II》