#genuinely i think i can count on one hand how many people have actually managed it

[earmo-imni]

i need u to kno that whenevr u reblog my art i always lkook for ur tags bc they give me life evn the brain fog ones

-Vee

😵‍💫 I thought I answered this already but apparently it didn’t post or something? And the entire answer disappeared? What happened.

Anyway askfkslkskfkekd that makes me very happy to know. In return I will inform you that you and Crow have achieved Friend status in my brain (aka I regularly think of you and your interests, as opposed to Acquaintance, where most people get stuck, and is more “I like talking and hanging out but they don’t really stick in my brain”)

(Yes my brain is a little funky but you knew that already lol)

[blank-slate-jay]

Shared Warmth

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: Joel brings reader to an abandon home, that he wants to call home for the two of you. Something erotic in Joel ensues seeing you in just your underwear.

Tags: Smut (18+), Anal, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Joel, Fluff, Established Relationship, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Longest fic I've ever written so far. I don't know how I managed to conjure this! Could've split this into two parts, but decided this is better as one post to make this more cohesive. Enjoy!

AO3! | Reposts are much appreciated!

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"You'll see," is what you had received.

A response with very little context, a saying with many different meanings.

You didn't know what to make of this, sitting behind him on the horse with your arms around his waist, you genuinely felt left in the dark. It was very much like Joel to leave you questioning the tones under his voice. Most of the time it was just Joel being Joel, being the closed off man that he was. But the man was in a very good mood, deliberately mocking your naivety with a chuckle.

You sighed, "where are you taking me", saying it more toward yourself than to Joel. Being nearly a day away from Jackson, the question was a reasonable one. After all, what purpose was there to go beyond Jackson for? A gated community was a blessing in times like these, and yet strangely for you, something felt off. Living there has made you feel out of place, made your relationship with Ellie and Joel seemly less meaningful. Perhaps being in a safe haven, with so many people, wasn't truly what you sought.

Bizarre for sure that if you say it out loud, you knew people would call you crazy. You yourself felt you might’ve lost your mind. However, you can’t deny your feelings. Those days, weeks, and months traveling with Joel and Ellie across the country - those were some of the best times you've had even with the looming danger around every corner.

Regardless of what was going through your head, you weren't complaining, being back out into the world. The orange glow of the sun only served to emphasize this notion, piercing through the branches just above your head. It created this relaxing setting, one you can bask in for an unhealthy amount of hours.

"Do you have an idea of where we might be goin'," Joel asked.

Cruel. Just damn cruel, asking you a question you knew he'd leave open ended. Still, you played along.

"I’m assuming it’s pretty big,” after relaying that the man hums finally providing you with a clue, even if its unspecified. “…and that you aren’t playing some trick on me. So, a mall?”

“Try again.”

“A museum?”

“Nope…”

You let out a frustrated grunt, wishing the ladder were true. “Lake?”

Joel took longer to respond, “Mmm,” the man thought about it. “Not quite, it’s close by, but not important.”

You scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder, unsure of what he has disclosed so far is true or not, "Should I already know what it is?" Maybe that'll give you the upper hand.

"I doubt you'd guess this," Joel responses.

"So I'm guessing that a no then?"

The older man nods, turning his head to you before replying with a, 'Yeah'. There was no use in trying by that point. The constant persistence wasn't doing you both any favors. Joel probably had a reason to keep it secretive, so why spoil it? Knowing ahead would've made the trip less intriguing, if not boring. And on the bright side, what'll come will actually be a surprise.

Rather than playing into Joel's trickery you let it go, lifting your head back up, "Alright you won, I forfeit."

"Finally givin' up."

You reply, “I think I have too. I’ve ran out of ideas,” you lied just exhausted by the mind tricks, “Unless you want me to keep going?”

Joel partly wanted you to continue, to get back at you for all the times you fucked with him. He was starting to understand the fun in it now and why you did it to him. He settled for one more jab at you, “Will you get it a right this time?”

"Shut it" you giggle, bumping the man's thighs with your legs. Your comment did do the trick, as Joel fell silent after your remark. You could tell the man was smiling though; his rising cheek gave it away. Some of you was certainly rubbing off onto him, to know the man was now more comfortable with you was flattering.

Joel then reaches down for your leg, placing his hand right over your kneecap, caressing it like it was precious. “Don’t worry now, sugar. We’ll be there shortly.”

His considerate touch, that softness in his voice. Those two components together were enough to send a warm feeling throughout your body. How easy Joel could just captivate you by his touch alone, you guessed that was just how love worked.

You nodded your head as if he could see you, humming to acknowledge his words. Again you laid your head against him, face now between the back of his bare neck and the collar of his blue shirt. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the sounds of nature around you to pass the time.

---

Sometime later, you found yourself opening your eyes to the sound of Joel's voice. Your vision, well adjusted to the growing darkness of dusk, focused on the dirt path some feet away.

"We're here," Joel says, spiking your interest enough to get your full attention. You lean back from the man's frame, hands rubbing the bags under your eyes.

Taking a look at the dirt path, you gaze in both direction. One leading deeper into the forest and the other extended out into a clearing. You confusingly study the area, unable to spot anything of interest. No water, no structure, not even a tree with any unique properties. You couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered, some of that feeling escaping through your lips with a quick 'Umm'. Stealing a glance at Joel's side profile, you tried reading what little you could see of his face.

He nods, "Good. You're awake. It's just this way," he explains, spurring the horse to get them moving in the direction of the dirt path.

Huffing in relief you spoke, "Phew, not gonna lie you almost got me there," thinking Joel might've been toying with you still. He turns his head to you, claiming that he wasn't going to bring you out there for nothing. If the man had told you that some time ago, you would have a hard time believing him.

Trotting forward, the horse comes into close proximity of the tree lines. Just on the other side you could barely see something faint between the leaves; a building of sorts. By what you could see the distance made it difficult to tell with the addition of nature covering your view. The universe really made things difficult for you. For what what it was worth, you were sure Joel didn't want you to see it until you stepped out into the open field. Still, the suspense was killing you.

This wasn't going to last any longer as Joel turns the horse right into the clearing. The tree's now finally out of view, you were hit with the red beam from the sun, blinded by your curiosity and in exchange being blinded by the sun in return.

You squint some, grunting as your gaze trailed around the perimeter. There was lots of tall grass, a noticeable transition compared to the on's just behind them. It stretched far beyond what your eyes could already see. Of course your mind was then caught up by the building some distance away.

There was a house. Someone's house. A house, that looked to be in good conditions. Surprisingly the lone tree just beside it has yet to infect the home with any vines. It made you believe that someone had to have lived here not too long ago. That person was one lucky bastard to have that home to themselves, you thought, imagining how nice the interior had looked.

"Ain't that something", Joel spoke, pretending as if it was his first time being there.

You comment, "Looks lively." A good point compared to everything the two of you had seen on the way there.

But Joel corrected you, "It's empty actually, has been for awhile". You let out a quick 'Huh', taking in his words, further scanning the house. The sidings are a tinted white, slightly scrapped on some parts of the wall. The dark colored roof, contrasting with the siding, made the home brighter than it already seemed. The house stood tall, two stories at most based off the windows, with the first floor being linked with the porch.

It was both funny and disheartening how attached you felt to this home already compared to the one you, Joel, and Ellie shared in Jackson. You kill to live in a home like this, not that you hated your existing home, just this one felt...right to you. Exterior alone, it reminded you of your old house pre-outbreak.

"Can we go in," you asked. A silly question, like you needed Joel's permission to enter the desolate property.

Joel responded sarcastically, dragging out the phrase "Nooo", with his gruffy voice. You knew he was only kidding and was now becoming intrigued by what was inside. Even so, the invasive feeling creeping up your stomach didn't go away yet. You looked around, taking in a full scope of the area. You trusted Joel of course, something that had improved since you first met. But your vigilant, alert mind hadn't shifted in the slightest; only improved thanks to being with Joel.

You turn your head around, looking behind you and at the edges of the tree lines to ensure that no one was following or coming. Like it even mattered, Joel had already assured your safety. You guessed it was better safe than sorry.

With your head now facing to the left, you gaze over to the far side of the field. So far that walking there would be ineffective. The field, a tad bit sloped, dragged on into the distance stretching too far for you to even consider. The sun made the entire sight something you'd see only from a painting or photograph. Sure enough, Joel wasn't lying from earlier when he confirmed there was a lake, just far off at the ends of the slope.

Joel steady the horse, grabbing the reins tightly to slow her down to a halt. "Alright," the man sighed. You let go of his waist as he began to move, his boots shaking the stirrups while he steps down from the horse. He then reaches his hand up to you. You gladly took it, allowing the man to pull you down.

You thanked him, a small smile stretching across the side of your face as you looked at the older man. He reciprocated your gesture with a smile of his own, one that made the wrinkles near his eyes stand out. He didn't have to mutter a word for you to know that he heeds your words.

The man turned his attention then to the horse, letting go of your hand in the process. He grabbed the reins and moved the horse over to tie it up to on of the porch's pillars. While he does so, you made your way up the few stairs, the wood creaking beneath your shoes.

Your hands trailed along the rails, rough and also smooth against your skin. Your eyes darting up and down the walls. Closely the walls looked more worn down, not too badly but could use some improvement.

You turned to look back at Joel who was slinging his bag over his shoulder. The man brushes his hand by your arm and passes by you. He walked up to the door before pushing it open. He moves his back agains the open frame, "Come".

Peaking inside for a moment, there was no way the house was empty like Joel had inferred. "Empty, huh. Doesn't look the way to me.", you look at the man with a snarky look on your face.

He looked unfazed by your humor, the man's face falling a bit flat. It reminded you of the times he'd looked at you after having to endure some of your playful banter. Those times were fun back when you traveled the country together with Ellie.

"Get in" he insisted, sounding annoyed but also seconds away from chuckling.

You don't push your luck and brush by the man still with that look on your face as you pass by him. To wipe that look off your face, Joel smacks your backside causing you to yelp; biting his lips in sync. It was a bastard move, but you weren't complaining. Looking back at him was either rewarding or a mistake cause he was making the face you familiarizes yourself with, best described as hunger. God. Choosing your next action carefully was smart cause anything that insight him to grab and kiss you, would lead to something more...erotic.

Not giving into temptation, you turn your attention to the living space ahead, balling your hand into a fist and squeezing it with the other hand. "This is...quite the place," you stated, stepping further into the home. You weren't kidding. The place had an aura very reminiscent of a cabin, the amount of woodwork around the living room alone gave you that impression. However, the house looked and felt homey all the same.

You walked up to a small craved out sculpture, shaped like a bull, placed above the small fire place. While inspecting it's form you brought up a question, "How'd you find all this?"

"Me and Tommy we're riding out", he started as the man trailed over to the wall to place his bag down, "And I wanted to do some more exploring but Tommy wanted to go back. So I let him and luck would have you..," the man finishes by raising his arms up some like he was revealing something grand, "...got my hands on this."

You nod, looking away from him to fiddle with the small bull, "Cool, it's like a comfy outpost. I like it". You then used the bull like a pointer, motioning it in the man's direction, "You weren't gonna hold out on us were you?"

Joel shook his head, making his way over to you. "Firstly this isn't a toy," he says, grabbing the small figure out of your hand. He places it back into its original spot before resuming, "And secondly, I was going to tell you, specifically just you about this place."

He was? You raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what significance a place like this would even have. It wasn't somewhere you'd visited with Joel before, nor was it a house that held any meaning to you prior to arriving. So what gives? "Just me", you muttered.

The man smirked some, finding it adorable how dumbfounded you appeared. He stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel the warm heat from his nostrils flaring against your face. “Yeah, just you”, he repeated, his voice now closer to a whisper. 

You could feel his hand grasping at yours as you kept your eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry, I feel I’m missing something here”. The man, obviously still listening, lifts your hand up to his own face, gently rubbing it against his cheek. His scruffy beard, pricked your palm as you cupped the man’s face. 

The man wondered if he should even answer. Your palm, tender against his rough skin nearly made him forget how to speak. Made him almost forget what you had even asked. He had held it longer than he should've, feeling slightly guilty for holding something like this off from you. He felt you inquired more than enough today. 

With your palm, slowly being squished between the man's hand and cheek he explains, "I got this for us. At Tommy's...I know things have been different between us since we got there. We, spend a lot of time outside of town, sometimes don't even spend time with each other much anymore. I thought it'd be nice to have our own space again, you know away from...everything. When I found this it just clicked for me. Felt like we could call this place home."

Your face was at ease, hearing him say what had been on your mind, spiked your attraction to the man further than you thought was possible. Every word, every sentence hit the mark for you. For a moment, you could swear he had to have read your mind at some-point. Either that or being with you had made it easy to determine what was bothering you. Regardless, having a place faraway for yourselves sounded too good to deny, especially when it was exactly what you wanted.

You couldn't quite put your thoughts into words, simply letting out a confused giggle, unsure of how to follow up on Joel's reveal.

Joel takes notice of this, captivated once more by your expression. He then breaks the silence, "You've asked a whole of questions. Now let me ask you this, how do you feel about living here with me, sunshine."

You nodded immediately, maybe a bit too quickly and possibly too eagerly. "I'd...love to," the words finally falling out of your mouth.

The man response, turning his head some to kiss your palm between an utter, "Good." His lips softly trailed down, like he was following the curved lines on your hand. Each kiss felt delicate, purposeful, each with some kind of meaning supposedly. That was just within Joel's transcended mind, he couldn't help himself, he got lost quickly whenever he'd feel your touch.

You leaned yourself forward, pulling your hand away from his mouth to wrap it around the back of his neck. Tugging him forward you embrace him, finding his hips as a comfortable spot to rest your free hand. No surprise, Joel indulged, pulling you into his arms too.

The two of you stood for some time, merely appreciating and savoring the moment of intimacy. You didn't think any words could pinpoint how much you loved Joel. Not even the word ‘loved’ felt like it was doing him justice. It was beyond that.

“What did I do to deserve you," he mutters above your ear.

“Luck," you say.

He hums, knowing it to be true but hating the notion of life without you, fighting for you made it all worth something, made it mean something. He made small circles around your back, just being grateful he had you now, thankful that you made it to this point to be there in his arms.

"I'm making dinner," Joel says, catching you off guard for a moment. "Got the ingredients for your favorite."

You knew what he was talking about, it was meal you'd two shared before and you couldn't keep quiet about your enjoyment of the dish, even while eating the damn thing.

Luck would have you, again, you were about to experience that meal again.

---

You turned the running faucet of the soothing shower off, grabbing the towel just off the shower's hinges to wrap yourself in its warmth. Stepping out the tub, you began to dry yourself, wiping away all the sweat you'd built up after leaving Jackson. Once knowing this new place had running water, you were quick to jump for the shower, never skipping the opportunity to get yourself clean.

Joel was just downstairs prepping dinner for the two of you. You wondered if it was already finished since you spent way too long wandering the upstairs plane; checking the available rooms before finding the shower. You were sure it wasn't even done yet since Joel would've called out for your name by that point.

Wiping away the last remnants of water, you threw on some spare clothing, a shirt and just your underwear, from your backpack before stepping out the restroom. The cooler air hit your body, nothing you wouldn't accept since the season was a lot warmer; spring.

You made your way into the master bedroom. In this case, your shared room with Joel. Not much was in it. Compared to the other bedroom, which hosted nothing at all, this one at least had a bed and a few dressers. You weren't complaining since the room felt less compacted and more freeing.

Walking into the room you toss your towel onto the bed, taking in the open space, a stark contrast to your room back in Jackson. The thought of what you could implement to this room had your mind racing momentarily. Like what you could put within the corners or whether you should put any entertaining devices in the room. Maybe not the last part probably cause Joel would advise keeping those contained to the living room.

It got you pretty thrilled thinking about what you could do in general now that you weren't limited to a communities resources. This of course meant you didn't have as much to work with, but everything you gathered would or could be used to further improve your new home.

You started comparing your home back in Jackson to the one you have here. Down to it's interior, format, and spacing. You thought about the kitchen, dinning area, your shared room, Ellie's room. Ellie. Again you thought about her, a realization hitting you in the process. 'Fuck' you sighed under your breath. So caught up and enthralled by a nice change of environment, you hadn't even thought about her wellbeing.

At the moment, she was at Tommy and Maria's place, likely giving them a hard time as you'd expect. The usual for Ellie. But being so far away from her, not being there for her made you somewhat fazed; a pinch of disgrace too. That girl was tough and she needed to grow up around people to understand what it's like to live. But on the other hand, she'd follow you and Joel to the ends of the earth, she said it herself.

Throughout the wave of thoughts, washing within your head, you were by the window now. Hands perched up on the dresser just below the glass's border. The spot made for a great place to reflect. Perhaps this would be a good position to do it, overlooking the grassy plains, it gave your head a hub place to ponder.

If it weren't for you being lost in your thoughts, you would've been aware of the man standing by the door frame watching you; completely out of eyesight. Joel, leaning up on the frame with his arm, exhales an exaggerated sigh to catch your attention.

You turn, startled by the sudden noise. Realizing it was just Joel you relaxed. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you joked.

His presence definitely lightened you up, giving you something to distract yourself from any thoughts running in your head. You'd talk out how to settle Ellie's situation with Joel, it'll work out; you knew it would with Joel by your side.

"Sorry" he started, his eyes gazing upon your exposed legs. "Dinner's ready."

You nod, "Alright. I'll be down in a bit."

You thought after relaying this to Joel, that he'd leave and wait for you downstairs. But he didn't move, his figure remaining still as his eyes stayed focus on you. He nods too, but it seemed more that he did it subconsciously since his eyes weren't locked with yours.

The look was back and more prominent than ever. The dark look that you avoided earlier, was calling out for you to let him have you. Mixed with the half smile across his face made for a deadly combo.

You tried being clever, looking about the room to see if your bag was in sight. It wasn't, but you were sure it was still in the restroom after changing out your clothes. "I'm gonna grab my pants, really quick-"

"You don't have to" Joel says, his fingers playing with his nails. "I think you look fine already."

Failed, you tried getting to see if the man would hold off, tried keeping him at bay at least until you both were in bed. But no, you only drew more attention to your undergarments. To make matters even worse, Joel's gruff voice had caused a twitch between your legs. A slight growth a hardness, noticeable by both of you.

Joel bit his lips, taking his weight off of the door, "You're not too hungry, right?"

This was the one time where choosing your words carefully would be wise at the moment. However, you felt there was no turning back now. He wanted you, now. And you wanted him more. You sheepishly shook your head, "Not really", finally falling for the man's glare.

While you spoke, Joel already had closed the gap between you too, looking into your eyes for a moment. He hooks the front of your trousers with his finger, pulling you closer to him until his lips were locked with yours. You inhaled deeply, feeling a tingle shake your spine.

He cups the sides of your face, passionately parting his lips to slide his tongue inside. Fast as Joel was to get things going, you accepted. The warmth elevated by the mixing of each others taste made the tightness in your underwear uncomfortable.

Joel's huffs deeply into the kiss, his grip, grew stronger with each passing second. His weight started to shift your stance, causing you to back up until you hit the dresser behind you. You grunted against his mouth, not letting the movement stop you from continuing to brush your tongue against his.

Both moaning and breathing heavily, you grab at his collar shirt, playing with one of the buttons to get it open. You tried getting him to undress, a chance taken from you when he grabs your wrist tightly. The man wanted nothing but to feel your skin against his own. He wanted to savior the moment. He liked the build up, he loved the anticipation.

His hands were free from your face, but they soon started invading your shirt. He rampaged through it, running them around your shirt before sticking them in by your sides. You tremble at his touch. His hand created a warm sensation on your skin, reminding you of the times he’d draw circles on your back whenever you’d lay in bed together.

For you, gripping his jawline pulled you two closer, crotches colliding too. It peaked Joel’s interest, his eyebrows raising between the groans against your lips. Joel’s jeans made it difficult to tell, but it was clear you were hard, just as hard as he was. That got him to smile into the kiss, proud he could get you really erect quickly.

You parted your lips from his, only a few inches apart. You used the moment to catch some air, something you knew you wouldn't be granted later the further you proceed.

You questioned his smile, "What?" "Nothing," he says, his accent rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Just you". He waits a moment before throwing himself back into the fray, wanting your lips to be sealed with his.

Aggressive, he pushes you harder against the dresser, unintentionally crushing you moments before dipping down to grab your legs and halting you onto the wooded surface. The dresser creaked, not adapted to a person being onto but that didn't concern either of you. The man caress your thigh, slow and aimlessly, while his other hand yanked at the front of your underwear once more.

He wanted you to take them off so badly and you didn't waste a moment. You shook yourself, getting enough room under you to slip them off. Joel helped, his steaming breath hitting your slowly exposing skin made you pick the pace up. He help fully get them off, letting the cloth hit the ground. His gaze fixed on your now exposed erection made him forget to breathe.

“Now your turn”, you said.

Rubbing his hands down your legs, he reaches down for his zipper to unbuckled his pants. His belt clicked and his pants loosened, dropping everything done to the floor with a thud. He swiftly took his underwear off too, slipping it fully off and sliding everything off to the side with his feet.

You let out a shaky exhale, your eyes so baffled by how hard his cock was; rock solid and strictly standing upward. Your started pondering if you could even take it. Under these conditions you would have to take him raw. There had to be something to use, you thought something to make it easier for him.

“Hey”, Joel’s voice soft on your ears. He tilts your head up to hold your gaze, “Eyes on me.” He slowly caresses the features on your face, adoring just how amazing your eyes looked and how kissable your lips were. Those lips, looking at them intently he slips his thump across the bottom half. He wanted to nibble on them, gently bite to leave a mark on them; to leave evidence of his pass doings.

He used his other hand to play with your cock, making sure you were staying hard for him. You assisted him with your palm overlapping his; working in unison. It was subtle and worked to keep you both pleasured while focusing on the man.

Joel dipped his finger between your lips, “Open your mouth, baby”. Your lips separated and he slid his finger in. A bitter taste hit the roof of your mouth as he swirled his finger around. “Get it nice and wet for me. Gonna need it for the hole of yours.”

So this was the alternative. Normally you and Joel would talk about using some sort of cream for sex. With seemingly none around to use, your mouth would have to do. You started sucking on his finger for a bit, his thick finger, took up a good portion of your mouth. Not enough to suffocate like his cock, but enough to make you think about how to manage your tongue’s movement. After the first finger he switched it out for another, a small line of saliva leaking out every time he’d pull out.

Three finger were soaked now, three fingers you were sure would break you, more than his cock would. You shiver, trying to estimate the width of his fingers with that of his cock. It served no purpose other than question your capabilities. What good did that do you, especially now?

Joel releases your cock, and trails his hands down to your balls. You knew where he was headed, this wasn’t your first rodeo with Joel. You lifted your leg up, leaning back onto one elbow to keep yourself upright. Joel effortlessly threw your hovering leg over his shoulder, getting a view of what he’d been dying to see. Your hole, albeit at an angle was still visible and accessible which was the only thing that mattered to Joel.

The man, looked to your eyes for conformation, he wanted to make sure you were ready. There wasn't a hint of denial in your face, Joel loved that look.

Coming into close contact, he circles around your entrance. His rough fingers toyed with your hole, allowing the sensations to prepare you for his soon to come entry. God the feeling alone was making you wish he just put himself inside you, knowing it might hurt but still wanting him to push deep in.

No longer waiting, Joel pushes a finger inside, slowly. You narrowed your brows, the walls of your ass being breached caused a slight spark in your stomach. His finger slid relatively easily, getting your breathing to become shakier than before. It was nothing you couldn't take and his finger was satisfying, it might've been enough to make you cum. His second finger though, made itself known too, pushing in with the first.

You winced, wishing Joel had warned you. Two thick fingers inside was about right, it felt about the size of Joel's cock at it's hardest. Staying with this rhythmic push and pull inside your hole made you believe you were ready for him to fuck you. But one other finger remained, one still damp and set to go.

A yelp escaped your lips feeling the third join the other two. It hurt for sure, causing you to throw your head back as a jolt reaction. You bump the glass pane behind you, the light outside barely shining onto the side of your face. You reached up to grab at Joel's collar, the fabric bringing some level of comfort with it's pure softness.

"Relax..." the man groans.

Fuck you wanted to, but how could you when the man was expanding your ass with every thrust. It made you grip his collar tightly as you kept your eyes tight to prevent it a tear from falling. The feeling was both painful and enjoyable, the tingles running up your stomach never ceased and neither did the sting in your hole.

You started to tell, no, insist that he fuck you. It escaped your mouth through a whine, a part of you wanting him to just remove a finger or two to let you relax. You knew it had purpose, you knew why he was pushing your limits. The longer you held, the easier it would be for him to push himself inside of you. Still you begged, "Please...Joel...take me, just fuck me."

Through your closed eyelids you couldn't see the man, shamelessly smirking, "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it, sugar pie."

You gasp, "Bad".

He groans, "Yeah?". He licks his lips, "Want me to go really deep in there, want to me fuck you real good."

"Uh...huh"

He pushes fingers deeper than usual "How badly?"

You gasped, "Really fucking bad. FUCK".

Joel groans, acknowledging your plead. If you wanted it that badly, he wish you told him sooner. He pulls his fingers out, the sounds of your hole getting him excited. It was wet now, just the way he liked it. In one swift motion, Joel flings your other, idle leg over his shoulder and yanks you forward until your backside was against his crotch. His cock, bumping into your balls got another sound out of you.

You relax into the dresser the best you could, letting your elbows rest and leaning your head back until it was laying against the glass again. It wasn't the most comfortable positions for your neck, you didn't pay much mind to this though as Joel began running his hands up your thighs. With your legs so close to his face, he also started leaving kisses and bite marks you knew would be visible the next day. He wasn't about to let you off without at least some marking, whether it'd be visible later or hidden by your clothes didn't concern him.

Breathing hard against your skin, his gaze turns back to his hard-on. He reaches for it, while overlooking your body. He lines it up to your hole pushing, not inside of you yet, but rather around the exterior.

Again with the teasing, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes but refusing to try. Did the man not tire of his own nonsense? You shifted your hip toward his cock, physically telling him to knock it off and shove it in you.

He locks eyes with you then, seeing your desperate and longing expression. You chewed down on your lips, seeing how the man's eyes had darken since last you laid upon them. He just smirked, looking down between your legs before pushing himself in.

It hurt but not as much as his fingers. The aftermath of those three invaders acted as a testament to how well you could still take the man in strides. For what it was worth, they did make it easier for him to slide into you.

He slipped in and out easily, smooth like butter. His thrust started methodically, getting familiar with your hole's interior again. He groaned, his cock pulsating against the edges, trying to find your sweet spot.

He wasn't able too, it wasn't that easy. You had laid there making hush moans that could only be audible for anyone within the room. It was striking and incredibly hot to Joel hearing you try to conceal your voice. It came off is if you were going to burst, like you were going to scream out his name, that was something else entirely.

Thinking about it gave him a surge, a rush that rapidly increases his pace. His hips smacking up against your ass, created a sound that vibrated your body. Each smack, was music to the man's ears, meld together now with your rising grunts. It probably was the best thing he'd ever heard.

You were losing it on the other hand. Your body trembled, your eyes became hazy, your mind completely in shambles; a mess best described it all. So much so that you had no idea what was even happening, questioning what was even real.

Were you becoming stupid with each thrust or did you completely lose your mind to him. His strides were beginning to make you see stars, more pleasing than the ones you'd see in the sky. A sudden overwhelming feeling rushes from your stomach all the way to your head, the strongest sensation you've felt all day. It made you feel light, like you had been consumed by the clouds.

This strange halt in your mind lasted for a minute before coming back from being on autopilot. You were semi-confused as your body was on a softer surface now. Your body lays flat, Joel's entire weight on top of you. Your senses were coming back to you.

The dresser was no longer your resting place but rather it was now the bed. Joel had lifted you up moments ago, still inside you, and crashed you both onto the mattress. Surprisingly that didn't snap you out of it, but what was even more confusing was the wetness near your stomach, just in between your stomach and Joel's. It was quite sticky. Wait, you stopped your mind from racing, ignoring Joel's rough groans in your ears for a second. You already came, you totally did. Your cock didn't feel restrained nor was it in any desire need to let loose any longer.

Shit, you thought, not realizing the man had satisfied you. You got lost in thought due to him hitting your sweet spot, it explained why your mind went into a frenzy. The feeling sent you over the edge again, jolting you back to reality this time; he hit it again.

You cry out as a response.

"Fuck, I'm gonna blow, I'm gonna fucking blow". Joel groaned.

You couldn't speak a word, it was too much, too much to bear. You dug your nails into the back of his shirt and pulled him closer with your legs around his waist. Your strength was dwindling, and you didn't have the voice to tell him to finish. If he kept it up any longer you were surely gonna cum again.

Joel's voice was deafening against your ears, his rhythm completely erratic and harsh against your hole. He went all out, posting himself up onto his elbows and thrusting into you like it was his last. He could feel the sharpness on his back, a deep sting from you nails pushing further into his skin. He watched as tears rolled down your face, wanting nothing but to wipe them away. He was right there, he could feel it rising up.

A few more rough thrusts did the trick. Joel grunted, holding his breath for a second as his cock convulsed before blowing. It came out fast, faster than he expected, squirting strings of cum in succession against your interior. He squinted his eyes, as he came quickly back down to your neck.

Joel's cock had settled, just as the two of you were. Exhausted beyond belief, you felt weak, one of your slipping off the man's back. You both relish in each other's touch, your breaths becoming steady at last.

The man's body shifts, causing you discomfort from still being inside of you. He reaches down to pull out, a quiet groan breaking free from your sealed lips. He used his other hand to cup and rub your cheek, his way of showing his gentleness after the affair. The man's cum oozed out, running down onto the mattress. You could feel how wet and loose it had become. Compared to the last time Joel had fucked you, you weren't as messy as you were now.

He then looked over to the side, seeing the towel you had used from earlier. He grabs it and wipes away the stains on your stomach.

You let out a sigh followed by locking eyes with Joel. They looked a lot more calmer, vibrant even just by his soothing demeanor.

As he finished wiping you clean the corner of his lips rose, "We should go eat."

Just like that, he had nothing left to say, acting as if nothing just happened. You scoffed at how quick the man could go from wanting to devour you to being a sensual man who wanted to give you the world. You weren't ready to rise from your position, not yet. You yank the towel out of his grasp before pulling him back down onto you.

Dinner can wait, just a bit longer.

[rationalisms]

You mentioned that you don't think legally blonde is progressive and I'd like to hear more of your thoughts on that if you don't mind.

i mean, in the first place (and i promise i'm not trying to sound condescending i just genuinely don't know how else to say this) i think it's important to like... let go of the binary "progressive/oppressive" model of thinking about media, and instead pivot to talking about analysing e.g. films through different theoretical lenses instead.

so instead of trying to make a definitive declarative statement on whether xyz mainstream hollywood romcom IS or ISN'T feminist, fullstop, it's much more useful and conductive to actual productive discussion to analyse it from a feminist perspective instead.

because when you're no longer limited to ones and zeroes, that'll allow you to, say, in the case of legally blonde, both talk about the way that it takes some steps forward in terms of e.g. letting its protagonist succeed at things that are traditionally seen as male, such as academic success (aside: extra ironic bc in most countries women are better students than men but when has propaganda every cared about that), or choose academic success and her career over her erstwhile romantic partner, but also many steps backward.

like the fact that marketing that brand of hyperfemininity/beauty rituals/etc to women as So Empowering Akshually is part and parcel of misogynistic industries owned by men that prey on women's self-image, time, and money to sell them products that they at best don't need and that at worst are actively bad for them. like, they have caught on by now that shaming women for failing to uphold standards of femininity doesn't work nearly as well as selling them as part of a Feminist Identity in which your 50 step skincare routine that you spend 2 hours a day on so as not to show a single sign of aging is actually just Getting In Touch With Your Body and Expressing Your Womanhood. i honestly do not have the time to get into it right now but i recommend reading "femininity and domination: studies in the phenomenology of oppression" by sandra lee bartky, "beauty work: individual and institutional rewards, the reproduction of gender, and questions of agency" by samantha kwan and mary nell trautner, and/or "choosing to conform: the discursive complexities of choice in relation to feminine beauty practices" by avelie stuart and ngaire donaghue.

and so like, the fact that her Grand Crowning Moments in this film (like her win in court or helping jennifer coolidge's character) actually almost all revolve around those beauty practices and how well she manages to uphold them and not, say, the knowledge she's gaining in the incredibly difficult university course she's taking.

OR such as the fact that there's a whole character who's just there to be the frumpy, masculine, feminist lesbian who's suuuuch a killjoy and combative to our poor protagonist for seemingly no reason and just Hates Feminine Women sooo much, and who we are meant to jeer and laugh at when the Right Kind of Woman (read: feminine and heterosexual) wins against her. or how the protagonist's happy ending still has to include a man anyway. or how you can count the people of colour that even just appear in this film on one hand.

this is at this point definitely already long enough lol but i hope you get what i mean? anyway. there's absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying this film obviously but it's good to be critical of the way these narratives are presented to us, as always.

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

A Really Bad Day

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x actor!reader 

Summary: Dieter comforts you after a bad day.

Word Count: 895 (Drabble)

Warnings: Some angst. Mostly just fluff.

Notes: I’ve been having a rough go at it so this is mostly what I wish Dieter would say to me. As always interactions with the post are appreciated as well as feedback!

“FUCK”

You yell out as you throw your bag on the corned of the room not thinking about how things inside it could break. Dieter immediately jumps from his place on the couch at the sound of your yell and the loud door slam.

“Woah, what’s wrong, kitty cat?” Dieter questions going up to you quickly.

Even the nickname that is supposed to be endearing and comforting feels annoying to you today. It had all gone to shit and you were about ready to give up on your stupid life.

“What isn’t wrong? It’s all so fucking dumb.” You say allowing him to embrace you.

His larger figure enveloping yours in a crushing hug is the first comfort you feel today. His body is like a natural furnace that always radiates heat no matter how cold the day is. You love Dieter’s hugs. They are always the best.

“The audition didn’t go well, I take it?” He questions once again to which you only nod against his chest.

It’s not only that the audition didn’t go well. The audition had gone stupendously bad. Your manager had given you the wrong sides to read from, you made a complete fool of yourself, and the tied executives hadn’t even bothered paying attention to your fiery disaster. It was embarrassing. You were dating one of the most famous actors in the world and you couldn’t book the gig that would finally give you your break.

“Hey, look at me.” Dieter says taking you away from the embrace so you could look in his eyes.

He wipes away a single tear falling from your eyes.

“I know you’re frustrated, okay? This job is infuriating. I mean look at me! I’ve won an Oscar and there are still parts I can’t book.” Dieter says calmly never breaking eye contact with you.

“Yes, but you already have a career. You’ve already made the movies that make you recognizable. You can actually make a solid living out of this.” You argue back trying to not cry more.

“And it continues to be infuriating that there are roles I genuinely would love to play but can’t. That’s just how it is, kitten, unfortunately this industry is cruel.”

You take a deep breath and take in what he’s saying. You know Dieter also never had it easy. When he was coming up it was still very hard to imagine that a Latino could be a leading man and a heartthrob. Heck, nowadays people still found that hard to believe.

It was a cruel and unfair industry set in an equally cruel and unfair world but when you looked into Dieter’s eyes and saw the amount of love radiating from them for you it all seemed… easier. It wasn’t perfect but having him right there, feeling the weight of his hand on your shoulder and knowing that this man would bend over backwards to make you happy just made it all a little better.

“I just want to do right by you. I don’t want you to date a failure.” You admit with more tears coming out of your eyes.

“Oh my god, that has to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Dieter says making your laugh. “I don’t think you’re a failure! I think you are one of the most talented actresses I’ve ever met! And you know all that is keeping you from a big role is one phone call from me.”

“You know that’s not how I want to make it into this industry.” You reply.

“I know. I respect the heck out of you for it.” Dieter says bringing you back into a hug.

He had offered many times to get you a huge part and you know he could do it. Deiter had connections in places you couldn’t even imagine. But this was supposed to be your success. Your life. You didn’t want to owe Dieter that much and you wanted to carve your own path.

“Believe me, I think the world of you. I see what you’re doing and I see how hard you’re trying. That’s all you can do, baby, try your best. Which, by the way, is more than enough. Some shit is just out of your hands, okay? But believe me  soon enough those Hollywood bozos will realize how brilliant of an actor you are.” Dieter almost whispers kissing the top of you head.

He always knew just what to say to you. Well, maybe not always. You still remembered when you first met on the set of some B-action movie he was making after the Cliff Beasts fiasco. You were just a background actor so when THE Dieter Bravo came to talk to you it was almost unbelievable. That was until he gave you some cheesy one-liner that was corny as hell and asked you out. You thought he was cute and found his attempt charming so you said yes and well here you were. Months later with the best boyfriend you had every had.

You break away from Dieter’s embrace and kiss him longingly which he replies with enthusiasm.

“Thank you.” You say as soon as you break the kiss.

“Don’t mention it.” Dieter replies with his Academy Award Winning smile. “Do you want to order some comfort food and watch trashy tv shows?”

“Mr. Bravo, you read my mind.”

[starfall-spirit]

20 questions for writers

Thank you for the tag @tunaababee and @whatishowedyouinthedark!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

63 (and another in my drafts for omegaverse free day)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

237,274

3. What fandoms do you write for?

ACOTAR and Fourth Wing mostly, but I'm looking to get more works posted for ToG and Assistant to the Villain (esp with book 2 in hand). Once upon a time I was a Miraculous LB girl too.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dragons Know Best (Riorgail)

Your Claim on My Heart (Riorgail)

Our Own Little Show (Violiaden)

So This is What Heaven Feels Like (Feysand)

High Lord, Cold and Cruel(Feysand)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Definitely. A single comment can be enough to turn a shitty day or even week on its head and I want my readers to know how much they mean to me. I also just love discussing my work with people who genuinely care about it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm not an angst writer and I haven't looked at this one in a couple of years but my miraculous oneshot Agony has MCD. So does The Night the Stars Fell on Velaris, even if it turns out to just be a nightmare in the end.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Last year for Feysand Week I wrote All's Fair in Love & Paint Wars which is pure HEA tooth-rotting fluff and smut.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't thankfully. There have been a few snotty people who claim i should use a beta or whatever, but I have been very lucky to avoid major hate and entitlement to updates. Part of it is probably that I'm not as popular as other writers in the fandom and I keep my Ao3 locked. People don't like to be a bitch when their name is there for all to see.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yes. Both fluffy and dark.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I don't, unless you count combining characters from the SJM universe. In that case I have a worldwalking next gen fic and a modern au for Feysand x Ruhn.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'm not opposed to the idea.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes!! You guys should check out the ACOTAR Writing Circle. I participated in the 3rd circle. There's another thing I'm working on with a friend, hopefully for Feysand Week, but we'll see.

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Feysand, the Rowaelin. After that, probably the rareships Feyre x Eris x Rhys and Violiaden.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof. Um, I've really been struggling to find motivation for Remember me? (Feysand x Ruhn) I started it when I saw an ask @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship asked, but I'm very much a pantser and didn't do anything more than write one crappy chapter before hitting post.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Banter, I think. It's so much fun to write and since I'm lacking in most other components I let it lead my fics. I've had several people tell me I write great dirty talk, but idk. I just make mean men say 'good girl" repeatedly, so...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Describing anything. My fics are too dialogue heavy and I'm well aware of it, but I've yet to improve my writing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm great when it comes to learning sign, but I've never managed to hold onto spoken languages beyond English. I'm not brave enough to trust google translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

My Percy Jackson and Harry Potter was never published, so probably ACOTAR.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Burning in the Starlight/How Can I Loathe and Crave You? as well as Precious Collateral. Also super excited about my submission for this Saturday.

They're more about the vibes than making a fic that's actually worth reading and there's something so refreshing about just writing for yourself and like, three dark romance/poly fic girlies who hype you up. I'm in my happy little dark!rhys bubble and will be staying here a long while, thank you.

Tagging: @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship // @panicatthenightcourt // @writtenonreceipts // @thelovelymadone

[dewdropreader]

So I’ve been tagged by the lovely @insert-witty-user-name-here for this WIP game! Thank you as always for thinking of me for these, they’re always lots of fun!

Rules: Pick five fragments from your unfinished WIPs and then tag five people to keep it going. Let’s have fun with it and help each other shape those fragments into published fics!

I only actually have four to pick from that actually have full enough sections written! I have plenty others with outlines and ideas but these four have enough to actually pull snippets from lol. Hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on any and all of them!

This first one is from a WIP that probably won’t be a WIP much longer. I’m going to do one more quick edit and then post either tonight if I’m not too exhausted, or tomorrow sometime! It’s one that’s been wallowing in a 2/3 finished state for a while, despite me loving the premise, something wasn’t clicking but I think I got it to where I want! Still toying with a bit of the flow but I’m enjoying it so far! So hopefully if you enjoy this snippet you’ll get to read the whole thing soon if you’re interested!

“Nah. You’re incredibly clever, Loki. Brilliant, even— that’s one of my favorite things about you. But I’ve been at this a long time, I’m pretty clever where it counts too.”

Loki is looking at Mobius with a sort of raw bewilderment. Loki has never met someone like him before, neither afraid of him nor purely reverent despite the kind (and seemingly genuine) compliments, nor overly cruel to him. Mobius is teetering on some line between omnipotence and overwhelming averageness, and yet he is remarkable regardless. Mobius had managed to read him and crack open every shell Loki has built around himself. He could blame that on the horrifying enormity of the TVA but he thinks without Mobius' mix of aggressive hounding and gentle curiosity he would have never admitted those fragile ideas that he’s kept hidden for so long, would have never allowed anyone else to know that he doesn’t enjoy hurting people and that deep down he feels like an exposed, horrified child with no one to reach for, the picture of weakness.

So, he hasn’t figured out where he stands with Mobius yet. He isn’t a friend, really, but yet he is also a force of relative calm and amiability in the face of Loki’s world imploding.

Loki stifles a cough and looks away. “Right,” he returns his gaze to Mobius’, forcing a look of attempted calm. “I’m sure we’ll see.”

Loki would usually feel much more threatening when saying something so bold, but he’s so worn down and exhausted he isn’t even surprised that Mobius doesn’t step back or furrow his brows in concern.

Instead, Mobius just claps his hands with a sort of finality. He doesn’t comment on the way Loki flinches slightly at the sound, but he drops his hands fairly quickly. “So, can I get you anything before bed?”

Loki sighs with only a hint of petulance. “Well, you can’t get me out of here, so I don’t believe so.”

-

Not too too much of it is written (a lot is outlined but less actually fully written) but here is a snippet from the beginning of chapter 6 of With You Through the Storms (Aka the cat fic!)

Now that Loki and Mobius are back together, it’s somehow like not much has changed even if in some ways everything has.

They fall back into a version of their routine as if Loki was never gone. Mobius’ body has to adjust to suddenly having the desire to get out of bed again and not needing to sleep as soon as he gets home, and Mobius has to stamp down the misplaced shame as he realizes how many brisk afternoons he missed and how much he’s let his life go into disarray. He slowly picks up the pieces, doing laundry that has gone undone for weeks and doing dishes and cleaning the floors. Loki helps him without any disparaging words, and Mobius is forever grateful.

The main difference now is that they are touching and looking at each other even more than before. They were always very tactile, and sent smitten looks across the room fairly often, but now it feels like a weird sort of honeymoon phase, neither one wanting to risk losing the other again. Mobius has even caught himself bumping into things because his gaze lingers too long on Loki when moving around the house. He knows there’s something perhaps a bit codependent about it all, and doesn’t expect such intensity to last forever, but for now, in this wildly exciting yet tumultuous time, he is willing to ignore it. He just wants to make sure everything is good again, that neither of them falls into the self loathing traps that separated them in the first place.

-

This is from a super brief section of something I started to write for flufftober before realizing I had no time to properly do flufftober lol. I started a Lokius piece where I wanted to do snippets focusing on the five love languages and how they happen with their relationship, and the only part I wrote was for words of affirmation. I do actually hope to finish this one just as it’s own thing, but I’m not sure when that will happen! Tbh I sort of forgot about it until I went searching through my WIPs for this, I’m not sure why though because the parts I did write I rather enjoyed.

The second time he notices, Loki is somehow caught off guard despite retrospect saying that it probably happened more than he’d even noticed. And the fact that he hasn’t been noticing, that he isn’t his usually shrewd and careful self… Well, that’s a bit concerning.

Mobius glances up from his paperwork as Loki plops down in the seat across from him.

“You look very handsome today, Loki,” Mobius smiles softly.

Loki’s lips press together as he lets his brain catch up. Is Mobius just being friendly to get him to do something? Or, is there a small chance Mobius noticed the extra attention Loki paid to his hair this morning? He’s been doing his best to work with what he does have—his hair, face, and drab outfit— trying to make himself feel… well, like himself. Without his usual clothing or magic to change his looks at will, he’s had to get creative, and that has especially meant toying with his hair and experimenting with Mobius’ strange hair products that smell like various spices.

Mobius hasn’t lingered on Loki, isn’t watching him for a tell like he is trying to get a specific reaction. He just gave the compliment and has moved on.

—

This last one is from an attempt at one of the Loki Bingo prompts, “disorientation”, I had two ideas and wrote this one, but I’m not sure what happened, I just was not feeling it. Something about it felt weirdly either detached or OOC or both, like it works and reading it I’m not affronted by it but I just was not into it enough to finish editing and posting it. Maybe I still will do something with it, we’ll see, but here is a snippet regardless!

Mobius is up and moving towards him in an instant. Classic is awake, on duty, and notices the commotion, but just looks at Loki with a quiet look of pity and understanding.

Mobius settles down at Loki’s side, a hand falling naturally to the small of his back, muscle memory from guiding him through TVA halls. Loki is shuddering slightly, his muscles quivering with pent up nerves, like a rubber band about to snap.

Loki is staring past Mobius, out into the field of the void, into the nothingness. His lips are parting and closing, soft noises escaping, unintelligible at first.

“Loki?”

Loki doesn’t respond, but his murmuring gets ever so slightly louder, enough for Mobius to make it out.

“Mobius. Mobius, no, please. Please, no, don’t kill him. He’s good. He’s good, don’t kill him. Kill me, prune me, not him. Not him.”

Mobius’ heart aches, his stomach twisting into knots. Loki must have had a nightmare, something so terribly vivid that he hasn’t come back to reality yet. He’s been through so much, especially recently, Mobius knows it’s probably all too overwhelming. His brain is probably at its breaking point, full to the brim of fears old and new, trying to make sense of everything, and now he’s short circuiting from the wash of panic of a nightmare.

“Loki, hey,” Mobius tries. “Loki, look at me. It’s Mobius, I’m here, I’m alive. We’re both alive.”

As for people to tag, I think everyone I would tag has already been tagged 😂 but I’ll tag y’all again, but no rush on this of course! Just tagging some of those who I love the work of even if you’ve already been tagged!

@starport-seven-five @mirilyawrites @lgwilt @blackbirdofasgard @cha-melodius

[mlmxreader]

As someone who loves the American Psycho book and movie. I hate that Patrick Bateman is idolized by teens and young men because Patrick is the definition of toxic masculinity. He isn’t a good person yet people put him on this pedestal and act like he’s a god. It’s so stupid. It’s one thing to like American Psycho whether the movie or the book and like Patrick in some weird twist way. But it’s another thing to think he’s the shit and start acting like him. Like why act like him. He’s a misogynistic piece of shit and there’s nothing attractive or hot about the way he acts towards women and men. Also I’m not lying when I say this but when I see people that act like him it makes me want to not be a man anymore because its so cringy and disgusting.

listen, I've read the book and watched the film more times than I can count, and while I DO make jokes about killing Jared Leto (but in all seriousness I 100% would given that Leto is a fucking vile cunt), I don't like the whole "Pat Bateman sigma male" bollocks. bc I have common sense, for starters.

the whole point of the book (written by a queer man) and the film (written & directed by a woman), is that Patrick is an irredeemable bastard in every sense of the word. he's not JUST misogynistic, he's also homophobic, transphobic, a capitalist, ableist, racist, and an elitist. the whole point of it isn't that he's a "morally grey" character, bc he ISN'T, but what he IS is a satire and, essentially, the personification of cishet White American men as a whole as well as things like privilege, wealth/capitalism in general, toxic masculinity, performative activism, and many, many other things.

the people who idolise Patrick and try to "justify" anything about him (music taste being the ONLY exception) completely miss the entire point of both the book AND the film; they entirely miss the fact that Patrick's murder spree ISN'T caused by mental illness in the slightest - it's bc he is a greedy, bigoted, wealthy man in a society that protects and excuses repulsive actions by greedy, bigoted and wealthy men. Patrick Bateman is the cops who brutalise citizens based on skin colour, he is the men who get away w assault bc they have enough money to bribe judges.

the film was, quite frankly, beautifully made. Mary Harron did an absolutely wonderful job w it and she managed to keep the core elements of both the story and the MEANING behind it, which is difficult to do at the best of times. but she DID IT!! she gave us the best adaptation of the original novel that anyone could ever ask for, and tbh, I don't think that fans of the book OR the film give her enough credit for her direction and her writing. Mary Harron did something that, in my honest opinion, no other filmmaker can do again. it is a one of a kind film, BECAUSE of her - and she ought to be recognised for it more.

the book, on the other hand, is just as good! Bret Easton Ellis did an absolutely fantastic job at providing us with a satirical, comedic, yet harrowing and disgusting novel that's engaging to read but also INCREDIBLY blatant and in-your-face with what it's trying to say. to write from someone like Bateman's view ALONE is a difficult job when you're, yk, not a shitty fucking bastard. but to write it and to be so BLATANT with saying "he's a cunt" is another feat altogether.

however, onto the sigma males bc I could honestly talk about the creators of American Psycho for YEARS.

sigma males are, quite frankly, cunts. they're transphobic, ableist, misogynistic, homophobic little bastards. they want to be "suave" and "cool" the way that Patrick PRESENTS himself (not how he IS, how he PRESENTS) whilst also making jokes that are on-par w "comedians" as vile and hateful as Ricky Gervais. this whole "he's just like me" thing w Bateman isn't bc people are genuinely having a laugh, it's bc of violent and shitty men seeing themselves within other violent and shitty men. even if that means purposefully neglecting the actual message of the material they're consuming. even if it means purposefully being ignorant towards it on every level.

"he's just like me" = "I am also violent and shitty".

and it has nothing to do w mental health, like at all. I have shit mental health! I'm fucking schizosphrenic! but I'm not violent OR shitty. why? bc I'm not a cunt.

and that's what these "sigma males" are at the end of the day. they are just cunts.

I honestly do believe that young men should turn more towards OTHER role models, such as Steve Irwin and Malcolm X.

but unfortunately this IS a side effect of society in and of itself; a society of which upholds capitalism, White supremacy, misogyny, transphobia, ableism, and other forms of cunt behaviour will only ever continue to produce more of these violent, shitty men. it didn't just come out of nowhere, it was taught and it was allowed and normalised. we need to combat it as best as we can through protests and riots and other organised acts of defiance. we HAVE to do better instead of just letting shitty violent men have their way all the time.

I don't think there's any shame in BEING a man, like, at all. and nor is there any shame in presenting in a masculine way; as long as you're not a cunt, you're probably alright. I'm not ashamed of being a man, it does nothing to help anybody to act like I hate myself - but what DOES help people is to do things for others; donate to charities such as the refugee council.

help women w buggies cross the road when they've got a load of shopping. help an old man find directions. give money to homeless people. support charities that are involved w aiding indigenous people push legislation. help your immediate and local community as best as you can, in any way that you can - even if it means, say, handing out leaflets for the socialist party or doing a bake sale for a local charity or even something as simple as offering to lend a hand when you can see someone struggling.

go to protests and actively demonstrate politically and publicly; talk openly about the things that are going on, such as the heatwave in the northern countries of Africa that's been absolutely devasting. talk about things like how the Anti-Trans movement is one of fascism AND misoginy, HELP TRANS PEOPLE! there's plenty of trans women, especially (and even more especially Black trans women, who are less likely to receive the donations and attention than White trans people), who need financial aid on social media who you can actively help by sharing and spreading their links or their gofundme or whatever!

basically: just don't be a cunt, innit? like, as long as you don't act like a cunt, you'll be fine.

[kasienda]

Right Behind You - Ch 13: Moral Support

Chapters: 1 | ... | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Read on Ao3

Chapter 13: Moral Support

Nino adjusted the headphones over his ears, and hit play again, listening to the track he had so far. He was finally making some progress - or at least was starting to get what he had in his head. The bass line still still didn’t quite land the way he wanted it to, but what he had now was light years beyond what he had before, which was nothing. Now, it was mostly just a matter of getting the music in his head into the sound editor.

Which was a lot more challenging these days for some reason. A group of kwamis were throwing bouncy balls on the other side of the wall between them and him. He couldn’t see what they were playing, but judging by the cheers and groans, they were trying to one up one another in some kind of stunt.

Then Ziggy and Roaar floated ominously over his laptop with Fluff trailing behind.

Nino yanked the headphones from his head. “Guys… what are you doing?”

The other two looked at Fluff, who whirled around in the air at being addressed. “We’re flying through your room.”

“But what are you going to do?” Nino asked.

Fluff frowned and cocked his head. “Who can say? There’s so many different possibilities.”

Nino groaned. Talking to Fluff about anything outside of the exact moment was a headache. He turned to the other two kwamis, but they had already phased through the wall, which likely meant they were all up to no good, and he would most definitely regret it if he didn’t follow them. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Alya:

[10:04] Can we talk? [10:04] Preferably today.

He sighed. He really didn’t want to have another conversation about picking a new Ladybug. But he knew from experience that putting Alya off only ever made things worse.

Nino:

[10:05] If you can come here, sure. Have a gig tonight. Working from home all day before that.  [10:05] Come by anytime before seven.

He did a quick walkthrough of his apartment, counting each kwami as he went. They didn’t seem like they were into anything they shouldn’t be. There were a handful fawning over a pokemon game on his Switch, Orikko and Mullo were tearing through his pantry in search of snacks, Daizzi was giggling happily in a bathtub of bubbles, and the rest of them, including the wayward trio that had just flown overhead were involved in the bouncy ball challenge in his bedroom.

So, nothing too crazy assuming the balls didn’t break any of his lights or windows. 

He settled back into his chair, and managed to eke out another four notes in the bass line that he almost liked.

His front door swung open before he got any further. None of the kwamis bothered to hide, so it was Alya. 

She hadn’t wasted any time.

He pulled his headphones from his ears and turned to her with a smile. His eyes caught on the faint dancing flames that always emanated from her now. It was easier to be around Alya than most people as her aura wasn’t nearly as blinding, which didn’t make any sense. If anyone was burning passionately with the brightness of a thousand suns it was Alya.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey!” She plopped down on his couch. Trixx flew from under her hair to join the other kwamis. Nino watched him go warily. Trixx liked to play pranks or perform magic tricks. Nino was hoping for the latter today.

“You okay?” Alya asked, her voice soft with genuine concern.

His eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’re here to check up on me?” 

She nodded. “I’ve been worried about you.” 

“I’m…” he was going to say fine not because he was actually fine, but because it was just automatic. “I’m exhausted,” he corrected. 

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Guardian and hero stuff aside, you could give Adrien a run for his money with how full your schedule has been lately.”

Nino laughed. “Who woulda thought that would ever be a thing?”

She smiled, but then her expression turned serious. “How is the Guardian’s mantle settling on your shoulders?” 

He shrugged. “It’s a lot. But I think I’ll be fine once the dust settles.” 

She smiled back. “Any prospects on a new Ladybug?” 

“Tired of being in the lead role already?” he teased, trying to deflect.

“Honestly, I enjoy being Ladybug, but I’m not as good at it as I am at the Fox. The Ladybug needs to give hope, be seen, and provide direction and leadership. While the Fox needs to remain hidden, observe, and distract. The two roles are not compatible.”

“Can’t you just make an illusion of yourself as Ladybug doing those things while you’re actually being the Fox?” 

She shook her head. “You know that I can’t. An illusion takes concentration to maintain. It doesn’t have a mind of its own. If I’m focused on what I need Ladybug to be doing and saying, I’m not focused on what I need to be doing as the Fox. I literally can’t do both, Nino. You need to pick a new Ladybug and you need to do it soon.”

Nino shifted. It wasn’t that easy. 

“Surely, there’s a candidate for Ladybug within the city.” 

“The problem is not finding someone suitable to hold the Ladybug,” he explained. The Ladybug really just needed a spark of creativity. Most people had that in at least some capacity. There were dozens of Ladybug candidates just on his usual commute to a club.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you have to find the Ladybug and the Black Cat as a pair . And the Black Cat is already taken. So I need someone who is suited to working with Adrien and someone who is suitable for the Ladybug and someone I can trust to not abuse their powers or try to steal the miraculous.”

And the main roadblock in all of that was still that it was hard to find a partner for Adrien when he still couldn’t see Adrien’s aura. 

Why couldn’t he see Adrien’s aura? 

“Then pick a temporary holder.”

“Like who?!”

“If Marinette hadn’t left for New York, I’d recommend her.” 

Nino didn’t laugh. He wanted to. “I imagine she would have kicked ass as a holder.” He was lucky Alya was worked up. She was the best at seeing through his bullshit. She rarely let him get away with anything.

“But since she’s gone, I would give it to Chloé.” 

Nino jolted in surprise. “Chloé?! You can’t be serious.” Chloé had become a friend. That didn’t mean he trusted her to keep her head in a fight. She was far too volatile and reactive even if she definitely had that spark of creativity. Plus, she still had a strong selfish streak.

“She’s someone I know we can trust. And she and Adrien would work super well together.” 

“She wouldn’t necessarily know it was Adrien,” he countered.

Alya shrugged. “But he would know, and he would be more comfortable with someone he knows and cares about and trusts, and he wouldn’t be put off by her being a bitch.” 

Nino shifted, looking for another argument and finding none. It wasn’t the worst idea, except he didn’t always get along with Chloé. “What about Kagami instead?” 

Alya shrugged. “Sure! Anyone who is not me is great!” 

Nino glanced away, worrying his bottom lip. It would be a neat solution even if only temporary, but Nino still wasn’t sure Adrien was ready to see someone else wearing the spots. They were holding pretty steady for the moment. Surely, they could last in their current configuration for another week or month.

“Oh my god! You still won’t do it,” she realized.  

He opened his mouth to object, but she beat him to it. 

“This is about Adrien!”

“What are you talking about?” He knew exactly what she was talking about.

“It’s always about Adrien.”

“It’s not always about Adrien!” This very much was. 

She leaned forward, and grabbed his arm. “Nino, I know this is hard for him. And I know that makes it hard for you, too, but Adrien knows we need a new Ladybug. He would prioritize all of Paris over himself.”

Adrien would prioritize everyone over himself and Nino hated that. 

“But he fucking trusts you when you say you haven’t found someone,” Alya said. 

“I haven’t found anyone!” Nino insisted.

“Are you even looking?” 

“Of course I am!” If only he knew what he was looking for. And maybe he should have been reading more of Marinette’s notes on auras, but he was swamped with work in every spare moment.

Alya scoffed. “Ladybug always chose her duty over her personal feelings.”

And look where that got her.

“You have to live up to his trust, Nino.”

“Look! I hear you. I swear, It’s not just about Adrien,” he defended. “The Ladybug is so important. I’m definitely scared of choosing wrong. It’s a lot.”

She sighed. “I know, but there’s consequences from not choosing as well.”

“I’ll choose someone soon and if I can’t find someone, I’ll give it to Kagami.”

Her flat eyes told him she was unimpressed and didn’t believe him. He wasn’t sure he believed himself either.

… 

Adrien scribbled notes onto his tablet almost faster than he could write. His thesis advisor had sent him the paper on how gravitational waves resulting from the spin of a binary black hole system might lead to the detection of ultralight bosons.

This was the first burst of progress he had made since Ladybug had resigned and moved across an ocean, and he was trying to ride the wave as far as he could.

He was only distantly aware of the front door, and slightly more aware of the click of Chloé’s heels through his studio. But he could not ignore the designer coat suddenly draped over his laptop.

He dropped his stylus. “Hi Chloé,” he said drolly. “Sure, I can talk. I definitely wasn’t doing anything important.” 

She didn’t say anything. She was clutching either side of her head. 

“Chloé?”

“I’m gonna screw this up,” she said. 

“Did something happen? I thought things with Cassandra were going well.” 

“They are! Too well! That’s how I know I’m gonna screw it up.” 

He softened. “You are not. You’re doing fine.” 

“I screw up everything!” she screeched.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them from her face. “That hasn’t been true in a long time. And it’s definitely not true now.” 

“She’s it, Adrikins. I know she is. I’m so scared. She’s going to figure out that I’m not worth it.”

He smiled at her. “You are worth it. Now, go tell her that you love her.” 

She looked up, her eyes startled and scared. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

He shook his head. “I have it on good authority that she loves you too.” 

“Whose? Did she tell you that? Are you and her talking?” she demanded almost faster than Adrien could process.

Adrien shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Nino watched the two of you interact. He said you were in love.”

She scoffed. “Nino’s an oblivious moron! Worse than you!” 

“Hey!” 

“I don’t know why I talk to you.” She turned on her heels and strutted towards the door. 

“Good luck, Chloé!” he called after her. The door clicked closed a moment later.

He turned his attention back to his paper, a smile stretching across his face. Chloé was in love with an amazing girl and even willing to admit it. 

Adrien managed another page and a half in his thesis. It was rough. He needed to add more than a few citations and a few diagrams, but it felt good to actually make progress. 

Several hours into his work, his phone buzzed on his desk.

Chloé: 

[15:38] she said it back. Adri-kins!! DHE SAID IT BACK!!!!!

Adrien smiled at the text. 

Adrien: 

[15:41] I told you.  [15:41] And congratulations!  [15:42] When’s the wedding?

Chloé: 

[15:42] klssfiejgh [15:42] Stop.  [15:43] Actually. I can’t even be mad. I’m so happy right now. 

Adrien: 

[15:44] your welcome. 

Adrien smiled at his phone. Chloé had been through a lot in the last few years between her parents and a few ex girlfriends. She deserved to finally be lucky in love.

At least one of them was. 

His smile faded, his thoughts turning to Marinette. He wondered how she was settling into her new apartment. 

He really should text her. He wanted to know how she was, but his fingers seemed to spasm, hovering over her contact in his phone. 

Even the idea of talking to her like nothing had happened made his chest clench. 

He called Nino instead. 

“Hey mec! What’s up?” 

“Do you have time to chat?” Adrien asked, his throat suddenly tight.

“I always have time for you.” 

Adrien smiled even as his eyes burned. Nino always stood in his corner. And sometimes that just hit Adrien in the chest. 

“What’s up?” 

He swallowed over the lump in his throat before speaking. “Nothing really. I just— Chloé told Cassandra that she loved her and apparently Cassandra reciprocated, and I’m really happy for her. I am! I just—“ he trailed off, tears breaking past his defenses. 

“What do you need?” 

“Can you just distract me?” 

“Umm, sure! I was actually just about to call you. Nat called me earlier. She wants to know what she’d have to bribe you with to get you to take an extra modeling contract.”

Adrien needed a second to process that. Nathalie called Nino already? His father must be far more desperate than he realized. 

“Do you know which one they actually want me to do? They’re trying to get me to take on three.” 

“The Aubert Spring line. You could ask for something big.”

“I literally can’t! I have no spare time because I’m so far behind on my thesis after being useless for the last few weeks.”

“Then don’t. I'll tell Nathalie where to shove it.” 

And Nino would. Quite colorfully if Nathalie’s dry comments about his best friend over the years were anything to go by.

“Please keep it civil.” 

Nino laughed. “I will if she does. Trust me.”

Adrien smiled, warmth blooming through his chest. It never ceased to amaze Adrien how Nino could make him feel so cared for in so few words. 

“I do.” 

Adrien trusted Nino more than anyone. 

…

“Race you to that tower!” Rena pointed to the horizon. 

Chat Noir grinned, and took off without a word. 

“Hey!”

Chat Noir laughed. He’d never admit it to Nino, but patrol with Rena Rouge was the most fun. She took so much delight in being a hero in a way that the others never had. 

Ladybug had been a hero out of obligation and love for her friends and family. 

Carapace did it to protect others, too. Specifically, to protect Rena Rouge, and only later, all of them.

But Rena just loved being a hero. She loved the powers and the freedom of it. They had that in common. 

At the end of the run they settled next to each other. 

“How do you think Carapace is handling everything?” she asked him. 

“I think it’s been an adjustment. But honestly, I think he’s more stressed about work right now than anything miraculous.” 

“Yeah, business just seemed to explode for him all at once.”

“The kwamis definitely drive him nuts, but he seems to be managing. He hasn’t said anything else to me. Why do you ask?” 

She shrugged. “I just worry about him. Will you tell me if it seems like he’s slipping?” 

Adrien nodded. “Sure, if he’s okay with that.” 

“Thank you.” 

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“You care about him a lot, still,” Adrien said.

She side eyed him. “I never stopped caring about him.” 

“I just… I don’t understand why the two of you broke up.” 

“What has he told you?” 

“Just that you realized you wanted different things.” 

She nodded. “Yeah. I think the long distance really killed us. I just realized one day that I was super into my classes and into my career. And I was calling him every now and again not because I wanted to, but because I felt like I had to. But when I didn’t call him, it wasn’t like he missed me that much either. Like, don’t get me wrong. We enjoyed - still enjoy - talking to each other. It just… felt like we were going through the motions. So I didn’t feel like I needed to come back, and he wouldn’t have asked me to come back either, so… does that make any sense?” 

Chat shook his head. “Honestly? No.” 

She burst into laughter.

“I live for getting to talk to any of my friends and loved ones. For hearing from them. When I don’t, it drives me nuts!” 

“So why haven’t you called Marinette then?”

“She told you that?”

“She did.” 

“How is she?”

“Why should I tell you anything when you could just text or call her yourself?” 

But Adrien couldn’t answer that. Alya didn’t understand, and Adrien couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t even tell Marinette.

“Because I’m her friend and am dying to know how she’s doing?” he said, trying to give Alya the most eager pleading puppy face he could manage. 

“So why don’t you call?” she asked, unimpressed.

His shoulders slumped and he turned away, staring into the distance. “I didn’t want her to go. I know why she did, and I’m proud of her for doing it, but some part of me is still angry with her for leaving.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I know.”

“You can’t expect her to not follow her dreams in order to be able to drop by and make cookies.” 

This was not about cookies. “You’re right. That’s why I don’t want to talk to her yet. She doesn’t deserve my anger, and I don’t want to make her feel guilty.” 

“Is this why you broke her heart?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I broke her heart because she deserves to be free.” 

“Not everyone wants to be free that way.”

But Marinette did. She just didn’t remember. And it was hard for him to think about her without thinking about Ladybug and it wasn’t fair to Marinette. He knew that it wasn’t. But it wasn’t fair to him either. 

It was all such a mess. 

He missed Ladybug. 

But he also missed Marinette. 

But all thoughts of Marinette were still painful. And he didn’t want to accidentally snap at her. She didn’t know how she had hurt him. 

But he couldn’t say any of that to Alya. It wouldn’t be fair for Alya to know when Marinette didn’t. 

“I get that you had a genuine relationship with Ladybug and that you’re still grieving her, but could you ever see yourself falling for Marinette?” 

Adrien wanted to laugh. He had fallen for Marinette a long time ago. “It would be easy,” he said. “As natural as breathing.”

“Then why?!” 

“Because I don’t want to hold her back.” And he didn’t want to drag her back. “I’m not ready. I would never want Marinette to be some rebound.”

Alya softened beside him. “Okay. I can respect that. But for the record, she asks about you all the time. She misses you.” 

He smiled. “I miss her, too. You can tell her that.” 

Alya shook her head. “Yeah, I’m not telling her that. That’ll make everything worse. You can tell her that.” 

She looked at him. 

“When you’re ready.” 

He swallowed before he could cry. “Thank you. I will.” 

When he was ready.

…

Nino was done. He was done with his phone ringing off the hook filling up every night of the week for he didn’t know how many months, done with the kwamis’ particular brand of chaos, and he was done with this particular remix. 

He needed a break. From all of it. 

He leapt out of the window as Carapace, and let himself run, but he didn’t really have anywhere to go, but he didn’t want to go home. 

He landed on Adrien’s balcony ten minutes later, slipped inside, and let his transformation fall. 

Adrien was at the piano. The song cut off when Nino came in. “No please, keep playing,” Nino said. “I’m only here for relief from life. The piano is perfect for reordering my head.” 

Adrien smiled and started up again. 

Nino laid back on the coach and let his eyes fall closed. The music washed over him like a gentle waterfall, cool and fresh along his skin. How long had it been since he just enjoyed music for the sake of enjoying it?

The song ended, and Adrien moved on to another piece, the melody danced in the air, more lively and playful than the song before, but  the harmony line stole Nino’s attention. It was clearly the thread that kept the piece in constant motion. It was that dynamic interplay he was trying to achieve in his current remix. 

He bolted upright. “Stop!” 

Adrien stopped played in an instant, looking over at Nino in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“Go back like three, maybe four measures,” Nino ordered as he took a seat next to Adrien on the bench.

Adrien grinned and did as he was told. 

“Only the left hand.” 

“You got it.” He repeated the sequence of notes.

Nino pursed his lips. It still wasn’t quite right, but he could use it. 

“Here and here,” he pointed towards two notes on the page. “Bump this up to the sixth, but make it flat, and double the tempo here.”

“You want me to just play it in harmonic minor?” Adrien asked. 

“Dude, you know I barely know what that means.” Nino could read music, but he hadn’t learned much beyond basic chord progressions. 

Adrien shook his head, still smiling. “To this day, I have no idea how you can compose and edit music with almost no music theory! It boggles my mind. Here’s what you asked for.” He played it out, and yeah, it didn’t quite work. Several notes sounded clearly out of key. 

“And here,” he played through it again, “It is in harmonic minor.” 

“Yes! That is much closer! Okay, this note here still isn’t quite right.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the song in question. “Can I play you the part I’m thinking of and you can help me with my modified bass line?” 

It took only another twenty minutes before they had whatever it was in his head on the piano. Nino frantically transcribed what they had figured out into his phone for his own reference later. 

“Thanks man! You have no idea how long this particular remix has been giving me grief.” 

Adrien smiled that soft smile. “I’m honored to serve as your muse today.”

Heat bloomed across Nino’s face. “Yeah, maybe we should collaborate like this more often.”

“I’d like that.”

Nino would too. Any excuse to spend more time with Adrien. 

…

Adrien arrived home just in time to watch Nino drop a stick of butter into a bowl of flour based on the puff of white that shot into the air. The whole kitchen was a mess. Broken eggs shells littered the counters, flour dusted the counters and the floor, and various baking ingredients lay haphazardly over the counter while the cupboards were left open. 

“You don’t have a gig tonight?” Adrien asked. Adrien wasn’t sure, but lately it seemed like Nino had a gig every night. 

“Wedding got canceled!” Nino explained gleefully.

“What are you doing?” Adrien asked, watching Nino drop another cube of butter into the flour. 

“What’s it look like?” 

“It looks like you’re making a mess,” Adrien teased.

“I’m making cookies. I got the recipe from M. Dupain.”

“But you’re just dumping all the ingredients together,” Adrien observed. 

“Yeah, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” 

Adrien sighed. “Baking is a science, Nino. You have to cream the butter with the sugar first. The other dry ingredients come way later. If you just dump everything together, the texture doesn’t come out right.” 

Nino smirked and took a step back, and gestured for Adrien to take over. 

“Stop it!” 

“Stop what?” Nino asked. 

“Looking so smug.” 

Nino grinned. “I told you, you know how to do this.” 

Adrien didn’t argue as he started a new bowl with butter and sugar. Making the dough was easy. He almost didn’t even have to look at the recipe at all. He even knew most of the amounts for each ingredient. He just didn’t trust that he knew and kept triple checking everything.

But the actual baking turned out to be an entirely different story. Marinette had always done the baking part. 

When he followed the directions from Nino’s recipe the bottoms of the cookies burned by the time the top was done. But if he took them out when the bottoms were perfect the center was still goo.

“Still tastes good,” Nino insisted through a mouthful of undercooked cookie. 

“It’s not right!” Adrien snapped. “I’m never going to have these cookies again.”

Nino frowned. “Dude! Chill. They’re just cookies.”

He dropped the mixing spoon. “I wish Marinette was still here.” 

“She’s not dead, you know. You could just call her. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to hear from you.” 

Adrien’s teeth pressed into his lower lip, unable to say anything.

“But she kind of is to you, isn’t she?” 

Adrien didn’t answer immediately. Ladybug had no memory of Chat Noir. He couldn’t ever really talk to her again.

“Marinette is not dead,” Adrien conceded. “It feels like Ladybug is, and I know they’re the same person, but I only knew that for like a week and then Ladybug was gone. And sometimes, I think I would have been better off not knowing because now it feels like everything I have with Marinette is off or something. But I’m still glad she told me because if she hadn’t I would have wondered forever. Now, at least I know she’s still in my life.”

“Or she could be anyways.”

Adrien sighed. Nino was right. Alya was right.  Adrien knew that they were. “What time is it in New York?” 

“Like two or three in the afternoon.” 

Adrien bit his lip holding his phone uncertainly. 

“Just call her, dude. She’ll seriously be thrilled.” 

Adrien hit the video call before he could overthink it.

It took a second to start ringing but then Marinette answered immediately. Her smile was positively delighted, her hair was tied up in a single bun, and her blue eyes sparkled. 

She was so beautiful. 

“Adrien!” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth. He found himself smiling in spite of everything. 

“Hi Marinette. Is this an okay time?” 

“I’m on a bus for an errand. This is a great time! What’s up?”

“I’ve been craving some chocolate chip cookies, and I’m trying to make them.”

“You’re making cookies without me?!” She sounded scandalized and thrilled all at once. 

“Trying. The dough seems right, but I can’t get them to come out of the oven done all the way through.” 

“The bottoms are burning?” she instantly guessed. 

And he grinned. “Yes, or the tops are not done.” 

“When you have a giant oven in a bakery you can follow the recipe straight. But when I’m using some tiny oven, it helps to shave two minutes off the bake time and then broil them for like 45 seconds. But the time also depends on the size of the cookies. So I usually set a timer for less than I think it will take and then just hover. When the bottoms are just starting to turn golden at the edges I flip the oven to broil, and watch them the whole time. Then when they’re golden on the top, which often takes less than a minute, I yank them. You also could just make the cookies a lot smaller and then the original directions will work better.”

“That makes so much sense! I’ll try it and let you know how it goes.” 

“I wish I could try some!” 

“I can ship some to you.” 

She made a face. “Adrien Agreste! Have I taught you nothing? Chocolate chip cookies are meant to be eaten fresh from the oven or not at all.” 

He laughed. “Okay okay. Next time you’re in Paris I will make you a batch.” 

She grinned. “Thank you.” 

“How are you doing?” he asked. 

“Amazing!! I miss you all of course, but I’m learning so much. And I like living on my own. I don’t know. I feel strangely free.”

He smiled again. “I’m glad.” And he was. 

“Well, I’ve arrived at my stop. Gotta run, Adrien. Thank you for calling me. I was worried I had made things weird.” 

He shook his head. “Any weirdness was definitely on me. It was good to talk to you, Marinette. I promise I won’t be a stranger.” 

“Thank you!” 

The call ended, and he had to put his head down. He was crying again, but it was different. 

“You okay, Dri?” Nino asked. 

Adrien wiped his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. This was good.” Then he looked up at Nino. “Thank you.” 

“For?” 

Adrien shrugged. “For pushing me. I feel like you gave Marinette back to me.” 

“All I did was make a mess. It was your idea to call her, mec.”

Adrien shook his head. That was definitely not what happened.

“I just… wasn’t sure I wanted to bake without her, but this was good.”

Nino inhaled another undercooked cookie. “Definitely tastes amazing!”

“Don’t eat those!” Adrien objected. “The next batch will be better!” 

And it was. Adrien was grateful Nino was there to share it with. 

…

Nino hopped into his car, buzzing with excitement. He had taken a night off for once instead of relying on a cancellation. Noël had wanted to meet up, like to actually hang out rather than catch a ride. Nino couldn’t remember the last time he and Noël had just hung out. Probably before his little brother had started his current semester. 

They were meeting at a little cafe near Noël’s university, which was a bit of a drive for Nino who was absolutely never once for silence.

“Hey Wayzz, would you mind if we listened to Adrien’s interview, or would you prefer some tunes?” 

“Let’s listen to the interview!” Wayzz said enthusiastically. 

Nino smiled, hit play on the video he had preloaded on his phone, and pulled out of the parking garage, wincing as they drove by a pedestrian who’s aura was brighter than anyone’s headlights even on bright. 

“I am here with Adrien Agreste who was photographed a few weeks ago kissing another man,” the interview began. “How did it feel to be outed so publicly?” the interviewer asked. 

Adrien laughed. “You don’t start off easy, do you?”

Wayzz settled onto the dash. He always enjoyed being able to see when they were driving. 

“I… I felt very exposed,” Adrien said. “I had always prided myself on not caring what others thought, but once it was out there, and I had no control over it, I realized I very much did care.” 

Nino smiled at the response, knowing it was genuine.

“What’s different about being bi?”

Nino groaned at the question. 

“I don't know. I've always been this way. What's different about being straight?”

“You tell ‘em, mec,” Nino mumbled, turning a corner. 

He squinted hard against another glare from a group of people walking down the street. Nino preferred to be out during the dead of night when there were fewer people around, or during the day when the sun was still the brightest source of light. Events were becoming difficult. He was getting to the point where he couldn’t even look at a crowd of people. But as long as he kept his gaze on his equipment, he could still manage. 

He wondered if the real reason Guardian’s became hermits to the world wasn’t just that it was unpleasant to be blinded at all times. 

How had Marinette handled it over the course of so many years? 

Maybe a thick pair of sunglasses would help.

It was worth trying. 

“Why didn't you come out on your own?” 

“It wasn't a secret. I was out with most of my friends. I was also caught kissing a guy in public in broad daylight. I wasn't exactly laying low.”

He wasn’t exactly advertising either. 

“Did your father know?”

“Apparently, he did.”

“You didn't tell him though.”

“No.”

Nino arrived and parked the car, slipped in his ear buds, and let the interview continue playing as he walked the rest of the way. 

“Did you not think he would approve?”

“He has made comments in the past that I knew he wasn't opposed to the concept in general. But it was easy to imagine it would be different for his own son.”

Nino rolled his eyes hard, sensing the coaching that had clearly gone into that answer.

“And how did he react?” 

Adrien laughed. “It definitely went better than I was anticipating.”

Nino did not laugh. Gabriel condemning Adrien for the scandal itself instead of for being bi was not much better. 

“He understood that this is not something I am at liberty to change,” Adrien continued. 

Nino snorted. Gabriel did not deserve that much credit. Gabriel hadn’t shown any concern for Adrien’s well-being through the whole thing, let alone any understanding of what it meant to be bi. 

Nino parked his car, swept Wayzz up into his jacket, switched the audio over to his earbuds, and began the two block walk to the small bistro. 

“Celebrity crush?”

“Ladybug.”

There was a pause and then Adrien burst out laughing. 

“See! You’re actually disappointed,” Adrien said. “You wanted me to name a male celebrity.” 

“It would be more interesting.” 

“It’s called being bi, but if it makes you feel better, Carapace is pretty hot.” 

Nino shook his head. And immediately pulled out his phone even as he walked. 

Nino: 

[20:17] Really dude? Carapace is hot? I swore you were going to say Chat Noir.

Adrien: 

[20:18] Nah. He’s not my type. I prefer a bit of color in my eye candy.

Nino found himself blushing despite knowing Adrien was just teasing him.

“But you don’t have a crush on him?”

“I’ve never met him.”

“Most people haven’t met their celebrity crushes.”

“I guess I’ve always needed at least a conversation with someone before catching feelings.”

Nino arrived at the restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a small bistro. His brother was nowhere in sight, but he approached the hostess anyway. 

“Table for two,” he requested. 

“Inside or outside?” she asked. 

Nino risked a glance towards the dining room. It wasn’t packed, but the dozen or so patrons in the room were still blazing as bright as a polychromatic star cluster. 

He laughed at himself for the metaphor. He had definitely been spending too much time with Adrien. 

“Outside.”

Nino:

[20:19] Just got here. Grabbed a table outside. 

Noël:

[20:19] sounds good! Almost there.

Nino settled into his seat to wait. 

“Anything you want to say to LGBTQ individuals out there?”

“You owe no one anything. If you want to stay in the closet, or come out, you get to do what you want to do. You don't have to worry about being a role model. You just worry about doing what’s right for you to live your life.” 

“Hey bro!”

Nino started hard.

“Woah, there,” Noël said, holding out a hand in mock support. “How did you not see me coming?” 

Nino squinted as a woman walked past behind his brother.

Noël wasn’t glowing at all. 

Nino couldn’t see his aura.

Fuck. He wasn’t ever going to be able to see Adrien’s aura. He loved him. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? 

Adrien and Noël, and even Alya, were people that he loved through and through. This was why he couldn’t see Adrien’s aura, and why Alya’s was so dim. Who knew how much of it he was missing?

But this was a problem because he wasn’t going to stop loving Adrien. He didn’t want to stop loving Adrien.

Maybe he needed to give the Ladybug to Kagami on more than a temporary basis.

“Nino?” Noël prompted.

Nino shook himself out of his thoughts and made himself smile.

“Hey! Sorry!” He stood and swept Noël into a hug. “I was just lost in my own thoughts. How’s school going?” he asked as they both took a seat.

Noël shrugged. “School is school. It’s fine.”

Nino laughed. “How’s Remy? You guys dating?” 

Noël sighed. “Man, I wish!” 

“Tell me about her?” 

And apparently that was the right question because Noël just started gushing, only pausing to order dinner. And Nino basked in the fact that he could hang out with someone besides Adrien and Alya without being blinded. 

“What about you? How’s Adrien?” Noël asked.

“Adrien’s… fine,” Nino eventually landed on. “He’s going through some stuff, but handling it pretty well, I think.” 

“I’m sure he’s doing fine with you around.” 

“Yeah, I–” 

A series of screams interrupted. Nino jumped to his feet turning toward the commotion, trying to keep Noël behind him. His brother didn’t cooperate though. He had his phone pointed towards the people running toward them, fleeing from the five story apartment building. 

“Etta is going to be thrilled!” he exclaimed, running toward the commotion.

Nino sighed. At least he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to disappear. 

He ran for cover, while hitting the akuma alert on his phone, hoping Adrien and Alya were already on their way. He hated jumping into battle alone, but with Noël diving straight into the action, Nino wasn’t going to wait. 

Maybe he should give Noël a miraculous and then his brother would at least have some protection during the attacks. 

He transformed, and ran back towards the screaming. 

Carapace squinted against the light blasting towards him. He was half blind, and could only make out the akuma hovering over the crowd because it had golden angel wings spanning a good three meters in diameter. 

Maybe the Guardian powers were another reason the Order hadn’t wanted Guardians to use the miraculous themselves. Or maybe he could get Wayzz to transform him with magical goggles next time. Even if an ordinary pair of sunglasses wouldn’t work, surely the miraculous could filter out the effect during a battle. 

The angel akuma dive-bombed the streets below, and the ground split apart like an avalanche. 

He threw his shield, but the akuma easily arced away into the sky before the shield came back to him like a boomerang.

He was going to need some allies to corner this one, he was pretty sure. She was fast and his power set was not built for speed. 

It didn’t help to have so many onlookers below, Noël featuring front and center, with their phones out recording. Carapace hated it when battles broke out near the universities and lycees. There were so many kids without an ounce of self-preservation. 

“Get out of here!” he shouted at them. None of them moved.

The akuma dove towards the crowd again. 

“Shelter!” he encased the whole lot of them in his protection. 

“Hey!” someone objected, but Carapace didn’t care. The protective dome absorbed the energy blast.

The akuma spun towards him and shot off another blast. 

Carapaced rolled to the side, but the akuma’s strike just hit the ground, ripping it apart. Carapace went flying with the explosion. 

He landed painfully chest first against his own green dome, gasping for the air that had been forced from his lungs.

His eyes landed on Noël through the transparent shield, safe and protected. Thank goodness for small mercies.

“I’m on the scene. Any chance either of you are going to join me anytime soon?” Carapace shouted into his shield-phone before slamming it closed again, launching himself away from another blast. 

“We’re already here!” Chat Noir called, landing next to him in a crouch. Multiple copies of Rena ran across the rooftops overhead. 

Her illusions didn’t have auras.

Interesting. 

“Why didn’t you wait for us?” Chat demanded as he went on the offensive with a flurry of strikes. 

The akuma flitted away easily.

“Didn’t have a lot of choice,” Carapace said through gritted teeth. He threw his shield on an arc to block one the akuma’s retreat from Chat Noir’s next flurry of strikes. 

The akuma dropped from the sky. 

“Hypocrite!” Chat called. 

The akuma streaked past them and away from them, low to the ground, explosions in its wake. Spider web cracks branches across his protective dome. 

“Shut up and come up with a plan!”

“I’m working on it!”

But protecting the dome on the ground was all either of them could manage. And it didn’t help that the spectating crowd kept growing in size. 

“Anyone not under the Shelter needs to leave!” an illusion Ladybug yelled to the crowd of people, pointing in the direction she wanted them to go. Some of them even listened to Ladybug, retreating rapidly back the way that had come. 

The akuma was faster though, and gave chase. 

“Adeline!” 

Carapace’s attention jerked towards the little girl who had fallen behind and her mother who had been swept away by the moving crowd. 

Instead of running towards her mother’s shrill cry, she ran towards Ladybug. 

The Ladybug who was not actually there. 

The Ladybug who the akuma was very much targeting. 

Nino dissolved the shelter behind him - the shelter that protected his little brother - and shot off another one towards the child. 

But it didn’t get there fast enough. 

The girl - Adeline was her name - ran through the Ladybug, dissolving the illusion into a puff of smoke and fell sprawled to the ground. The akuma streaked just over her head, breaking the ground apart. 

The girl went flying with the blast, just as Carapace had a few minutes prior. She struck the side of the building and stuck to it like a strand of spaghetti. 

His protective shell caught her before she could fall, and he brought it gently to the ground. He was at her side an instant later. Her eyes were wide with shock, sucking in gasping breaths to replace the air that was stolen from her. He pulled her into his arms. Her face crumpled immediately with heartbreaking sobs and her little arms clung to his neck.

“It’s going to be okay,” he reassured, rubbing her back. Her arms and face were cut up, but it looked superficial. At least he hoped so.

“It hurts,” she sobbed.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he cried. He couldn’t even be mad at Hawkmoth. This one felt like his fault. If only he had chosen a Ladybug, a Ladybug who would have been there to catch her instead of an illusion.

Even the Miraculous Ladybug a few minutes later couldn’t ease his guilt. Or the tears from the little girl who clung to him even after she was healed.

…

[just-come-baek]

snakes on the plane

Pairing: fraud!pilot!Jaemin x stewardess!reader + wayv as cameos

Themes: 18+ | mostly smut | a sprinkle of fluff | comedy | action? | kinda pwp when I think about it now

Word count: 6.9k 

Summary: Jaemin is a fraud. Counterfeit credit cards, identity theft, deceit – Jaemin has mastered them all. Tired of the chase, Jaemin decides to do one more job before his official retirement. He got his brand-new pilot uniform, fake flying license, and a lot of charisma to convince everyone to think he actually knows what he’s doing. Too bad you’re on the plane and ruin his meticulously calculated escape plan.

Warnings: jaemin does illegal stuff | drinking | ❗ there are no actual snakes in this fic 😭 | loosely based on “catch me if you can” movie but with a twist? | rude passengers with grabby hands | Ten throws a fit | sexual tension | making out | teasing | hickeys/marking | handjob (both parties receiving) | dry humping | jaemin fucks reader against the wall while she’s wearing a little sundress | safe sex | 

A/N where are all the jaemin pilot fics I saw people talking about? Anyway, here’s mine. Have fun, besties ✨✨ another jaemin fic coming next week! 

“You guys won’t believe who’s the second pilot on our flight today,” Charlotte said as soon as she walked inside the crew cabin. “It will be his first flight under our company’s name.”

“What do we even need a second pilot for anyway? Have we ever needed one? No. Kun is doing all the work whenever he’s on board,” Ten added with an eye-roll, adjusting his uniform, making sure he looked spotless. “Second pilots are a scam. They could help us clean up the first class. It’s so messy. I swear to God, I’m gonna quit if I have to remove cum stains from the leather seats one more time.”

“Are you done?” You deadpanned, amused with Ten’s descriptive narrative. You could hear him nag for hours. He always had some juicy story to share. Moreover, his passionate and over-the-top energy made his stories funnier than it actually was.

“Who is he?” Yangyang asked, genuinely curious.

“Here,” Charlotte showed the picture to Yangyang, gesturing for him to pass the phone among all of you. “His name is Na Jaemin. Look how ridiculously good he looks in the uniform,” she added, and you nodded your head along as you couldn’t disagree with her.

“Do I have to remind you that you’re in a committed relationship?” Yangyang remarked as he handed you the phone to ogle the picture. “You wouldn’t want me to snitch on you, would you now?”

“I like that attitude. You should try as many dicks as you can. Seduce him,” Ten interjected, representing a completely different mindset than Yangyang. While Yangyang was an angel, reminding Charlotte that she already had a deep connection with her boyfriend, Ten embodied a little devil, trying to convince her to sin.

While the guys were bickering about monogamy and casual sex, you stared at the photo, zooming in on Jaemin’s face. He looked messy and tired but still attractive. His honey blond hair was swept to the side, and it appeared so soft you felt a sudden urge to run your hand through it to see if its texture was as silky smooth as it seemed.

His uniform fitted him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build. The first button of his shirt was undone, and his tie was loosely hanging around his neck. A part of you wanted to help him readjust it, but the other thought Jaemin rocked that nonchalant messy look.

“Someone’s drooling,” Ten tutted, and you quickly shook your head, trying to save the last bits of your dignity. Thankfully, he managed to pull you out of this train of thought before your mind got a chance to wander off to really inappropriate images.

“Let’s get back to work,” you cleared your throat, readjusting your skirt as you stood up. “People will start boarding the plane soon, and it’s a complete mess,” you added, offering a faint smile.

Charlotte, Yangyang, and Ten groaned in unison that they, in fact, had to get back to work but followed your order nonetheless. All of you wanted to receive your paychecks, after all.

***

“Good afternoon; I am your pilot, Na Jaemin. Welcome to flight Chicago 127 to Cuba,” Jaemin spoke through the microphone, using his funny kindergarten teacher’s voice, making you chuckle. “We will be taking off right after safety instructions. If you need our assistance, don’t hesitate to ask our lovely staff for help. Thank you, and enjoy your flight.”

Getting the passengers to actually focus for a second seemed almost impossible. However, Ten and Yangyang managed to get the job done. Carefully, they explained the safety procedures, repeating themselves enough times for everyone to understand everything.

“Only five more hours to go,” Charlotte entered the break room, plopped down in her chair with a huff, and threw an empty tray onto the desk. “I hate these heels,” she added as she kicked off her shoes, giving herself a quick massage to ease the pain in her soles.

“We took off half an hour ago,” Yangyang remarked, making her groan in annoyance.

“I don’t want to return there. The guy from 13B is a total creep,” she carried on, and you clenched your fists in anger. Some guys from the first class disgusted you – they bought an expensive ticket and thought it entitled them to fool around with the staff. “He groped my thigh when I was distributing champagne flutes. If his hand went any higher, it wou –

“I’ll take care of him,” you offered as you were sure you could reason with him. In times of need, you could be really persuasive. “I’ll talk to him, and if that doesn’t teach him a lesson, we’ll send a mob to finish him or something,” you added, and Charlotte and Yangyang laughed, thinking you were joking.

Smirking, you let them think it was just a figure of speech.

“I heard moans coming out from the lavatory. People need to stop doing that,” Ten groaned as he entered the room to have some peace and quiet during his short break. “High-mile club is so overrated,” he added, passing by a snack cart, stealing a can of coke for himself.

“I remember when you were renewing your membership a few times a week. It wasn’t overrated then,” Yangyang remarked as he tossed a red gummy bear in the air to catch it with his mouth.

“Shut the hell up! It is lame now,” Ten huffed, taking a few large gulps of his carbonated drink.

“I’ll make a round around the first class,” you announced, volunteering to deal with the rude passengers on Charlotte’s behalf. You knew how to reason with this type of people – you’d use your communication skills to good use, and Charlotte would take some time off to rest. “I’ll be right back,” you added as you stood up. You were bobbing your head slightly as you were repeating the seat number of that nasty guy with grabby hands.

You approached the doors, and with your hand on the knob, you turned around to give your co-workers a reassuring smile before your departure. Unfortunately, when you yanked the doors open, someone was trying to push them from the other side, which resulted in you, not so graciously bumping into them.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to take a step back, only to wince in pain when your hairpin and the shoulder strap on the man’s jacket got stuck together. For a short while, you stood there, awkwardly bowed, trying to untangle yourself without pulling half of your hair; unfortunately, in vain.

“Let me,” the man said, offering his help. You could feel his hands on your scalp as he tried his best to separate the two of you. “There you go,” he whispered, handing you back your hairpin.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you answered with a sheepish smile as you looked up and recognized him. He must’ve left the pilot cabin to introduce himself to the rest of the crew. Too bad you were on your route to check up on the passengers. You’d have to have a chat with Jaemin on a different occasion.

“No problem,” Jaemin smiled, looking at you curiously.

You made your way to the first class, attending to the passengers with utter politeness. However, all your effort went down the drain as soon as you reached seat number 13B.

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” you spoke in your overly-courteous customer voice, offering him a faint smile.

“Where is the other chick? I ordered my lunch ages ago,” the man carped, throwing his hands in the air out of childish annoyance. Who knows, if he weren’t such a disgusting person, you might’ve sympathized with him.

“What have you ordered? I’ll make sure you receive your meal shortly,” you replied, and he hummed in wonder as his hand landed on your exposed knee. The man kept talking, but you couldn’t pay him much attention when his filthy hand felt up your skin.

“Sir,” you cleared your throat as his hand inched upward. It was the last straw. You gave him three seconds to pry his hand off, and when he didn’t, you grabbed his thumb and twisted it around until you heard a painful crack. It definitely required urgent medical attention, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You bitch,” he yelled at you, trying to smack you with his other hand, but you squeezed his finger tighter, shutting him up.

“Listen up,” you hummed as you leaned forward to his level. “You’ll apologize to the other flight attendant once she comes with your order. And if she mentions you tried to touch her without consent, I’ll break all of your fingers and shove them up your a–

“I get it, just let me go,” he whined, trying to wiggle his hand out of your tight grasp.

“That’s what I thought,” you added with a smirk, letting go of his hand. “You may want to get it fixed once we land.”

***

After you confronted the man from seat 13B, the flight was uneventful. Without much trouble, the plane made it to Havana airport on time. The passengers were taking their sweet time to exit, but all of you patiently waited for them to leave, wishing them a pleasant stay in Cuba.

It was past 9 pm when you checked into the hotel. The airlines provided four rooms for the crew. You were rooming with Charlotte, while Yangyang was with Ten. Kun and Jaemin, thanks to their pilot privileges, secured private rooms.

“Do you want to go out? I could have some drinks to take the edge off,” you asked Charlotte as you entered your room. Having thrown her bags onto the floor, she plopped on one of the beds. You could tell she wouldn’t leave the room unless it was absolutely unnecessary.

“Actually, I was thinking I could Facetime with my boyfriend,” Charlotte replied as she pulled out her phone to skim through her notification tab. “You should ask Ten and Yangyang. They were talking something about a beach party. I promise I’ll tag along next time.”

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll figure something out,” you smiled as you tossed your suitcase onto your bed, looking for a suitable outfit for a night out. You had a few sundresses to choose from. When you showed them to Charlotte to judge, she was adamant about the red floral one on thin spaghetti straps, which revealed lots of legs, shoulders, and cleavage.

Following Charlotte’s fashion advice, you stepped out to the bathroom to take a quick shower. You needed to freshen up after the flight and wash all traces of exhaustion.

You let your hair flow naturally down your back, putting a beautiful red carnation hairpin to keep stray hair away from your face. It matched nicely with the sundress, and you loved the outcome. Having applied red lipstick and sexy eyeliner, you walked out of the bathroom, waiting for Charlotte’s approval.

“How do I look?” You asked, twirling around, letting her see the final look.

Charlotte was staring, trying to come up with a coherent compliment. Upon seeing you in your complete party attire, her mind short-circuited. “You look hot,” she finally said, giving you two thumbs up.

Though joining Ten and Yangyang at that beach party seemed fun, you decided to stay at the hotel. You were planning to use all of the benefits of your all-inclusive visit to the establishment. The airlines were covering the costs of your stay, and nothing could stop you from opening the tab at the lounge bar.

You used the elevator to get to the ground floor, where you asked the man at the front desk to guide you to the bar area. Once there, you looked around, searching for an unoccupied table to sit down at. Carefully, your eyes scanned the area until they stopped on a familiar figure sitting alone by the bar – Jaemin. You smirked as you studied his casual outfit.

Though Jaemin was incredibly handsome in his pilot uniform, the look he was sporting now was just as flattering. His white cotton shirt had its first two buttons undone, revealing a thick silver necklace resting against his honey skin and between his collarbones. Despite the scorching weather, his legs were wrapped in a pair of light blue jeans. His silky hair was now a bit frizzy (probably due to humidity), and it added a cute highlight to his overall sexy look.

Jaemin noticed you shortly after you entered the lounge, beckoning you to join him. Swiftly, he studied your features, taking in all of your beauty. You could swear Jaemin licked his bottom lip when he checked you out, but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt that he respected you enough not to do that.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked you when you placed your purse on the bar and climbed on the barstool next to Jaemin. You looked at your companion to see what he was having in search of inspiration. Much to your disappointment, Jaemin was sipping his mojito, and it wasn’t enough to cut it after your frustrating shift. You definitely needed something with a kick.

“Tequila, please,” you ordered with a polite beam, choosing the quickest way to get buzzed.

“I don’t think we had a chance to properly introduce ourselves. I’m Jaemin,” he courteously said, stretching out his arm to shake hands with you. “You have a beautiful name,” Jaemin added with a wink as he gently tugged your palm to place a kiss against your skin. “How do you like it here so far?” Jaemin mused before he wrapped his lips around the straw, taking a sip of his drink.

“It’s so hot, but I like it here,” you answered, smiling at the bartender who placed your order on the bar right in front of you. “Thank you, Lucas,” you beamed as you read his nametag. “I’ll be having more of these; please be on stand-by,” you joked, and Lucas offered you a knowing wink before he walked away to serve other people. “What about you? Are you having fun?” You inquired, gently nudging Jaemin’s side before you swung your shot glass, pouring tequila down your throat.

“More than I initially thought,” Jaemin admitted, slurping the rest of his drink until there was only ice in the glass. “Can I get a refill?” Jaemin asked Lucas as the latter approached you with a bottle of tequila, unprompted pouring you another shot.

“Naturally,” Lucas replied, fixing Jaemin another mojito. “Do you have plans later? My shift ends in an hour, and there’s this beach party. Do you want to go there with me?” Lucas turned to you, boldly asking you out. Taken aback, you looked at him and then at Jaemin, trying to politely reject his advances. You were fluttered, but you didn’t really feel like leaving the hotel tonight.

“Sorry, I have to pass,” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Lucas as you downed your liquor.

“No worries. If you ever change your mind, I’ll be here.” Lucas smiled, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Thank you,” Jaemin said when Lucas handed him his fresh minty drink.

“Do you mind leaving the bottle?” You asked Lucas as you were more than capable of pouring your own shots. After all, there were plenty of people at the bar waiting for drinks, so the least you could do was to save Lucas the hassle. “Thank you.”

Feeling somewhat buzzed, you bobbed your head to the rhythm of the music. You didn’t know the song nor the artist, but your feet were itching to hit the dance floor.

“Where are the others? Don’t tell me they’re hiding away in their rooms,” Jaemin asked, looking around, wondering what the rest of the crew was up to. He was hoping for some integration, but it didn’t seem like it was happening tonight.

“Ten and Yangyang went to that beach party everybody is talking about,” you started, and Jaemin hummed, nodding his head. “Charlotte, on the other hand, is having cyber-sex with her boyfriend over Facetime,” you added, and Jaemin spat his drink, taken aback by your unfiltered honesty. “I don’t know about Kun. He must be taking advantage of his pilot privileges.”

“Kun’s out, actually,” Jaemin revealed, and you looked at him, wanting to hear more about Kun’s business. “He’s meeting his fling tonight.”

You knew it was common practice for pilots to have women in every city at their beck and call, but there’s a lot of decency to Kun, so you thought he was different.

“I guess that means you’re stuck with me,” you stated with a smirk, genuinely glad everything turned the way it did. You could have Jaemin to yourself tonight without anyone to steal him away. “Do you want to dance?” You asked, craning your neck to the side, watching people having fun on the dance floor. You shook your shoulders to the rhythm, hoping for Jaemin to follow suit.

“I’m good,” Jaemin said, rejecting your proposition.

At first, you were disappointed with his reply, but you quickly shook it off. There were a dozen of other men who would kill to have a dance with you anyway.

“Your loss,” you whispered, downing another shot. “You can watch,” you teased as you pushed yourself off the barstool. Without looking backward, you walked toward the dance floor.

“Can I have this dance?” A handsome man asked you for a dance, and you grabbed his hand, letting him lead you to the middle of the dance floor. “You’re the most beautiful woman in here,” he whispered into your ear as he twirled you right into his arms, swaying his hips in sync with yours.

“You tell that every woman,” you replied with an eye roll, suspecting his compliment wasn’t as genuine as he tried to make it seem. It didn’t bother you that much anyway; you just made that remark to tease him a little. It’s not like he’d get anything more than a dance.

“I only say with I mean,” he confessed, and you giggled, following his footwork. “Is the guy who is glaring at me your boyfriend?” He inquired, and you were quick to answer that Jaemin was just a friend. Gingerly, you stole a peek at Jaemin. His jaw was tense as he watched you dance with the handsome stranger, internally fuming.

Na Jaemin was acting envious – God, how much you hoped for him to grow a pair and snatch you away. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you smirked, challenging him.

Jaemin liked to think he was a collected person, but now, you were pulling all the right strings to frustrate him. Your previous conversation was short, but the suggestive tone riled him up. Without a shred of doubt, you could seduce a man with ease, and Jaemin cursed himself for actually wondering if he should steal you away. The way that random man’s hands were feeling you up really rubbed him the wrong way.

“Fuck it,” he huffed, downing his mojito in a few large gulps.

Although you were dancing with a talented dancer, your gaze wandered off to Jaemin. You found it incredibly hot when Jaemin was draining his glass. Jaemin’s head was tilted back, giving you a perfect angle to watch him swallow the beverage. Suddenly, you felt thirsty, too.

“I think it’s my turn,” Jaemin yelled over the music, yanking you against his frame.

“What took you so long? I was slowly losing hope,” you jabbed as you bit your lip, letting Jaemin take the lead. “You know salsa? Jaemin, I am impressed,” you added, and Jaemin smirked, enjoying the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“I am a man of many talents,” Jaemin bragged, smirking. You had no idea how much information his statement carried, and your obliviousness amused him. “You have no idea,” he whispered into your ear as he twirled you around. With one hand on your hip, Jaemin danced, leading you through the dance floor. You were in the center of attention, and people seated by the tables watched your sensual performance in awe.

You had no idea how many songs you danced to with Jaemin. Your eyes were trained on his as you swayed to countless melodies. You were so consumed by his lustful gaze you didn’t even notice when the crowd inside the bar decreased by half. Dancing with him felt so intimate you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings. You were lost in Jaemin’s arms, in the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips in the brisk rhythm.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Jaemin finally confessed when he couldn’t deal with the sexual tension any longer. He was frustrated beyond reason, and he could only hope the feeling was mutual. He couldn’t be the only one who felt that alluring magnetism between you two.

Instead of giving him your verbal consent, you took the initiative and surged forward, smashing your lips against his. The kiss was needy, desperate even, consuming the both of you. His hands cupped your face to hold you in place as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, making you moan in pleasure.

“Let’s go to your room,” you breathed out, but Jaemin ignored your proposition, pulling you against his chest. Jaemin leaned in to nip at your lip, kissing you with utter passion. It was unlike of him, but you made him unreasonably insatiable. “Jaemin,” you said when he pulled away to take a breath.

If it was up to him, he’d fuck you, right here, right there. Jaemin was so doomed he would’ve railed you in your silly sundress in the middle of the dance floor if you let him. He didn’t even give a shit about the people at the bar; for all he cared, they could stay and watch him make you come.

“Ugh, fine,” Jaemin whined as he pressed his forehead against yours, trying to calm down and think straight. “Let’s go,” he added, giving your butt a playful spank, escorting you out of the dance floor. “Don’t forget your purse, princess,” Jaemin tsked, taking pride in making you fail to remember about your belongings.

Having pushed the button corresponding to the level where his room was, Jaemin turned to you and pressed you against the elevator’s wall, capturing your lips once again. Right now, there were no spectators (maybe except for the staff watching the CCTV tapes), and Jaemin felt shameful enough to sneak his hand under the hem of your sundress.

Jaemin expected you to push him away and nag him, so it came as a surprise to him when you buckled your hips, encouraging him to continue his sinful ministrations.

“Someone’s impatient,” he tutted, smirking at you before he shoved his tongue right back, taking your breath away.

“Look who’s talking,” you challenged as you looked downward, checking out the tent he was sporting in his jeans. “These jeans seem tight. It must hurt,” you cooed in fake sympathy, stretching your arm to feel how hard he already was. Too bad Jaemin grabbed your wrist mid-air, stopping you from teasing him further.

“Don’t do that, princess,” he warned you, holding your hand tightly if you tried to cup his length again despite his protest. Your teasing felt like you had the upper hand in this situation, and it wasn’t what he was used to.

“Fine,” you pouted, deciding not to wriggle your wrist out of his hold.

After a minute of humming to the generic tune, you heard a ping, and the elevator doors slid open. It was a success that you made it to Jaemin’s floor, and the both of you still had your clothes on. You seriously doubted you could keep it together for that long.

Letting go of your hand, Jaemin reached into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out the key card. Quickly, he unlocked the doors and pushed them open, letting you enter first.

“Your room is way better than mine,” you stated in awe, staring at the posh interior. The company should value its employees equally, but there’s nothing you could do to fight the pilot privilege.

“You’re more than welcome to stay in my room,” Jaemin declared, and you smiled, wondering whether he meant it as a regular thing or just tonight. You didn’t peg him for such a considerate person, and you were positively surprised he even made such a proposition.

“Where were we?” You asked as you draped your arms around Jaemin’s neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss. Instantly, Jaemin rested his hands on your butt, holding you tightly against his frame.

“I want to be inside of you so badly,” Jaemin moaned before his lips moved downward, nibbling the delicate skin of your neck. Having you pressed against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his hips, did a number on him.

“Jaemin, wait,” you whispered, craning your neck to the side, hoping he’d stop for a second. “There’s something I need to tell you,” you confessed, trying your best not to give in to your sinful urges. You could feel physical pain because he was too far away, yet you needed to come clean.

“What is it?” Jaemin hummed, paying you little to no attention, hyper-focused on peppering your exposed cleavage with gentle kisses. “I’m sure it can wait until morning,” he added, and you cupped his cheeks, making him face you. “Okay, fine,” Jaemin huffed, ruffling his hair as he took a step back, giving you a chance to speak up. “What is it? I’m listening.”

“I know who you are,” you disclosed, and Jaemin looked at you with a cocked eyebrow in confusion.

“So?”

“You don’t understand. I know who you really are,” you rephrased, hoping Jaemin would get the hint. For a genius fraud, he was pretty slow tonight. Apparently, all of the blood went from his brain down to his crotch. “And I’m not a flight attendant. It’s just an elaborate act.”

“Who do you work for? Interpol? CIA? ” Jaemin barked at you, pressing his forearm against your throat as if you were a threat to him. If you wanted to take him down, you would’ve done so before he had boarded the plane.

“Ew, I am not working for the police,” you revealed, smacking his arm away, taking offense. Did he seriously think that someone from the police could track him down so effortlessly? The law enforcement was just a bunch of idiots – the best police units wouldn’t find Jaemin nearly as quickly as you did. “How could you think that? I am disgusted.”

“Who do you work for then?”

“I’m a part of an elite fraud ring, and I’ve been chosen to recruit you. We don’t really have a name, but the police call us the serpents. Rings any bells?” You explained, and Jaemin bit his lip in thought, trying to organize every piece of information. Given the boner restrained in his jeans, it was a tricky thing to do, but Jaemin tried his best to focus.

“I’m flattered but not interested,” Jaemin spoke, letting out all of the air he didn’t realize he was holding in. “I appreciate the effort, but I am retiring. Do me a favor and see yourself out.”

In all honesty, you didn’t expect Jaemin to react the way he did. You didn’t anticipate him to gladly accept your invitation per se, but his current apathy took you by surprise. Although Jaemin seemed somewhat tired of the chase, he wasn’t the type of a person to give up.

“It’s not a proposition you can turn down like that,” you started, trying to reason with him.

“I just did,” Jaemin answered stubbornly, cocking up his right eyebrow, curious about your next move. “How did you even get in?” He folded his arms, awaiting your villain origin story.

If one had to compare your nefarious achievements with Jaemin’s – you’re the big fish. Your villainous resume was filled with plenty of spectacular heists, one of which even brought you international fame. The diamond heist, which you flawlessly orchestrated and helped to conduct, was widely known among law enforcement as well as the public.

“New Year’s Eve Snow Ball, Macao. Two years ago,” you revealed, and Jaemin looked at you in complete shock. No, it was not possible. There was no way you were the brain behind the coup de maître of heists. Jaemin couldn’t believe he was in the presence of crime royalty.

“You gotta be shitting me,” Jaemin chuckled, having trouble believing you. “There’s no way it was you. No. You wouldn’t be an errand girl, headhunting low profile conmen if that’s true,” he rambled, feeling a bit intimidated after knowing of your criminal past.

“I’m just passing the time until a good opportunity presents itself,” you stated with a smile, quick to explain your temporary hiatus. “Besides, it was quite fun. Tracking you down, I mean. You’re really good at what you do,” you genuinely admitted, hoping your compliment would stroke his ego. You’re obviously better, but his skills were nonetheless admirable.

“Thank you for your offer, but even if I wasn’t retiring, I would still have to reject it. With all due respect – I work alone,” Jaemin confessed, and you rolled your eyes, knowing it wouldn’t be a piece of cake to convince him. “Now, please leave. I’ve got stuff to do,” he added, looking down at his erection, desperate to tend to his primal needs.

“Couldn’t you think about it?” you cooed when you walked up to him, adjusting his collar. “It’s more a matter of membership rather than commission. Don’t worry; you get to keep all of your autonomy. You will also have clearance for all resources,” you carried on, the mixture of his cologne and sweat distracting you. “There are also other benefits included, like, for example, unlimited access to undetectable private islands, a wide net of connections, free healthcare, and many more.”

“Sounds too good to be true,” Jaemin concluded as he grabbed your wrists, pulling them away. “Where’s the catch?” He challenged, trying to intimidate you by staring into your eyes. Unfortunately, you felt more aroused than daunted.

“There’s none,” you grinned, whipping your phone out of your purse to mail him the first draft of the membership contract. You had signed almost an identical one shortly after your infamous Snow Ball heist, and being a part of this elite association was a pleasure. “Please read it in your free time,” you added, putting your phone away.

Jaemin didn’t want to entertain the thought of actually giving it a look. It took him a while to come to a conclusion to terminate his criminal lifestyle and settle down somewhere far away from trouble. At first, it was fun, and it provided him with adrenaline highs, but it was his time to quit. Jaemin had more than enough money to live a comfortable life, so why would he risk it for thrills?

“Ugh, I’ll think about it,” Jaemin whispered, turning his face to the side as he caved.  Although he was adamant about quitting, the idea of an off-grid private island tickled his fancy.

“I’d really appreciate it,” you added, reaching over to the buckle of his belt, pulling him closer. “Wouldn’t it be exciting to work with me from time to time? Or just sunbathing on the beach where no one could find you?” You sighed, your eyes closed as your imagination conjured these sensational prospects.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin asked, looking down at your hands which were unclasping his belt.

“Why are you acting so coy now?” You challenged with a raised eyebrow as you pulled the belt out of Jaemin’s jeans’ hoops, tossing it onto the floor in one fluid motion. “We can’t let work-talk ruin our night. I had high hopes. Or do you feel emasculated now that you know who I am?”

“What? No,” Jaemin said, quick to deny your groundless accusations. You were a famous individual among frauds, but it didn’t bother him that much. You were like a celebrity, yet his ego remained intact. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he smirked, staring at you fondly.

Despite your impure intentions of approaching him, you were obviously into him. Jaemin was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn’t oblivious. He wouldn’t be petty enough to turn you down when you were so eager to get into his pants. If anything, he was pleased with your needy attitude.

“Seeing you so desperate to fuck me turns me on,” he confessed, inching forward, letting his lips hover above yours. Jaemin’s feather-like touch caressed your face while his hips kept rolling against your abdomen, making you purr in elation. “Will you be a good girl for me?” Jaemin whispered as his hand slipped under your sundress to fiddle with the hem of your panties.

“Please,” you breathed out, brushing your nose against his before you kissed him, nipping on his bottom lip. “I need you,” you whispered in-between hungry kisses, trying to release his restrained erection out of his jeans. “Jaemin, take me.”

Your desperate pleas were music to his ears. Maybe if he wasn’t sexually frustrated, he’d tease you. However, right now, he needed you as much as you needed him. Hastily, Jaemin pushed your thighs apart with his knee and pulled down your panties, tossing them next to his forsaken belt.

“You’ve never answered my question, princess,” Jaemin murmured before his lips peppered little kisses down your exposed neck and collarbones. His knuckles dug into your sides as he rubbed your front against him.

“Yes, please. I’ll be good,” you breathed out, your eyes shut as you focused on Jaemin’s mouth against your skin. “Jaemin,” you moaned, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your entrance. You appreciated his tender ministrations, but now, you just needed him to fuck you with his fingers.

Grinning against your skin, Jaemin ran his fingers against your wet folds, fiddling with your clit. As soon as you felt his touch, you let a puff. Calmly, he spread your essence all over your pussy before he returned to pinching and rubbing your sensitive core.

While Jaemin worked you up, you decided to return the favor and cup his erection through his jeans. Perhaps, it wasn’t something a good girl would do, but you were sure Jaemin would let it slide.

Acting on his urges, he rubbed his manhood against your hand, so you considered it a perfect moment to take it a step further. Carefully, you undid his jeans and slid your hand underneath the hem of his boxers to give his twitching cock a few cautious strokes.

“You can fuck me now. I can take it,” you urged him, rubbing precum against the length of his cock.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Jaemin whispered in a low register as he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your walls stretch around them slowly. “Are you sure? I beg to differ,” he remarked, pumping his fingers in and out with a mischievous smirk.

The squelching sounds of your core mixed well with your shallow breaths, turning you on even more. You were hissing Jaemin’s name right into his ear as he prepped you. In no time, he learned where to stroke to get desperate moans out of you, unscrupulously making a mess of you.

“I can’t,” you whined, unable to go any longer without his cock inside of you. Jaemin’s fingers drove you insane, but you wanted to squirm around his throbbing cock. “Fuck me.”

“You gotta work on your good girl act,” Jaemin remarked as he withdrew his hand only to abruptly yank his jeans and boxers down to his knees. His erection sprung out of the fabric, proudly pulsating with excitement. “Do you have a condom on you?” Jaemin asked, tsking at you when you shook your head.

“I’ll make sure to be prepared the next time,” you eagerly replied as if you tried to make up for your not-so-good behavior.

“Wait here,” Jaemin ordered, and you leaned against the wall obediently, watching him head towards the bedroom. Not even a minute later, he came back, flashing you a small packaging between his fingers.

These pilot privileges were starting to annoy you. There wasn’t a single mini bar of chocolate on your bed, but Jaemin’s room came packed with condoms! At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a whole welcome basket in his bedroom.

Staring into your eyes hungrily, Jaemin ripped the packaging with his teeth, rolling it down his erection. There was nothing special about it, but it got you rubbing your thighs in anticipation.

“Come on,” he urged you, grabbing you by your ass to help you jump and wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on tight, princess,” he added, pressing you tightly against the wall as he grabbed his cock and aligned it with your entrance.

Your sundress was flowing around your middle, obstructing your view. You didn’t really mind it, though. Jaemin’s pounds were sturdy and fast, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pure delight taking over you.

“Fuck,” you cursed, buckling your hips against him, deepening his thrusts. “Like that,” you chanted, feeling your orgasm within your reach. “Jaemin!” You shrieked, arching your back, paying no attention to your volume. With Jaemin’s cock stuffed deep inside of you, decency was the last thing on your mind.

With his hands on your ass, squeezing it, and his mouth on your cleavage sucking yet another hickey, you were losing it. Chasing your release, you rolled your hips, brushing your clit against his pelvic bone, making Jaemin grunt.

“I won’t last much longer,” you panted, running your hands through Jaemin’s silky hair, pulling him closer against your skin. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head to the back, shoving your breasts right into his face.

“Just come then,” Jaemin urged, pounding at the last bits of energy. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, but he never quivered, determined to get you off first. “Be a good girl and come around my cock,” he carried on, whispering dirty words into your ear, nipping on your earlobe.

His pace was much slower, but he made it up with deep and hurt thrusts. Earlier, you were able actively respond by rolling your hips or pulling him closer, but right now, you could only accept his ministrations, floating in pleasure. You were feeling so good, but when Jaemin slightly changed the angle and stoked your g-spot, you lost your grip on reality.

“Fuck,” you shouted as you reached your high, squeezing around Jaemin’s erection so hard that he came inside the condom just a few seconds later. With his forehead pressed against your, Jaemin kept thrusting through your orgasm until you rode it out.

“You were incredible,” you confessed with a goofy smile upon your face before you pressed the gentlest peck against his swollen lips. You didn’t quite come down from your cloud nine yet. Despite the dirty deed you and Jaemin indulged in, you felt giddy.

“Your pussy is too good,” Jaemin confessed, stealing a quick kiss from you too. “Can you stand still?” Jaemin asked, and when you nodded, he slid out of you and carefully helped you off his hips. Smiling like an idiot, you watched Jaemin discard the condom and pull up his jeans.

“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion, smirking at him. “We’re nowhere close to being done,” you added, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the bed.

You still could walk just fine, and you wanted Jaemin to change that.

***

You stirred awake past nine o’clock. The sheets were soft, and your body was still tingling nicely after all the nasty things Jaemin had done with you. If only you could, you’d stay in bed until evening and enjoy its warmth and comfort.

Having stretched your arms, you discovered you were alone.

Jaemin was gone.

Were you surprised?

Not really.

Were you disappointed?

Kind of.

You were hoping for one more round before you’d have to get ready for another flight.

Having rubbed your eyes, you looked around the hotel room. You couldn’t hear running water in the en-suite bathroom. Jaemin’s suitcase was nowhere to be found, either. There was your sundress on the floor next to your strapless bra. Grumbling, you stood up and got dressed.

Unfortunately, your panties seemed to have gone missing, and you had a sneaking suspicion Jaemin was behind their disappearance.

“The audacity of this guy,” you bitched under your breath as you noticed a pilot’s cap sitting on top of the coffee table on the other side of the room. Swiftly, you marched over there, realizing there was a tiny paper plane inside it.

‘Read me’, said the writing on the paper’s plane’s wing.

Groaning, you unwrapped the piece of paper and straightened it with your hands to read the note Jaemin had left for you, possibly justifying his premature departure.

‘Catch me if you can’.

‘P.S. I hope you do that soon.’

Having read the message, you smirked and crumbled the paper in your fist.

Of course, Jaemin would pull shit like this.

However, you found him once; without a shred of doubt, you can do that again.

[star-anise]

I'm up around 3am, thinking about incels and tradwives. (Note: If these are movements you're a fan of, or if you just want to fight with me generally, I will block you if you annoy me, and even if you behave there's a $20 fee if you expect me to actually reply to you in any way.)

This got started because of Khadija Mbowe's and F.D Signifier's videos about Black patriarchy, which has led me to pick up bell hooks' 2004 book The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love.

The thing that hooks says that really knocked my socks off in a "how dare you notice that" way is that a lot of people, men and women alike, are angry not just because of the male violence they've experienced, but because of the lack of male love they've experienced.

Which like, part of being human means that being seen and cared about is pretty viscerally equated with survival in our brains. We want it, we need it, we suffer when it isn't there. To be seen and genuinely loved by the people in our lives matters, so we are always affected when there's someone important to us who doesn't seem to see us, to love us, to care about our wellbeing, or to be proud of our accomplishments. It matters to be disregarded, rejected, or shamed by someone we want to love us.

But no power in the world can compel another person to give a shit about you—a truth most of us spend our lives frantically suppressing because being unloved is terrifying, so we work at being better, more attractive, smarter, more accomplished, more charming, sexier, or to be brutally honest, more lovable. But when we do experience a lack of love, a lot of us take that anger and decide to opt for second best. If we can't be loved, we can at least be powerful. Power can take a lot of forms, but because the lack of male love often goes hand-in-hand with violence, people who face it generally want, at the very least, to not be hurt anymore.

But there's another element in play. Patriarchal gender roles divide behaviours and skills in a very particular way: Boys and men are expected to use power to dominate, and girls and women are supposed to use emotions to tend and nurture. Anyone who fails to perform those roles gets harshly punished. Terrence Real talks about how this leaves men with very limited knowledge of their own emotional needs or how to communicate them to other people, and Paul Kivel talks about how boys are taught that this is women's work—that if they are masculine enough, they will attract a woman who will make sure that they feel loved and cared about. How a great deal of men's anger towards women is the feeling that women are witholding this essential service, or failing to fully handle men's emotions (which is pretty damn common, since humans aren't telepaths so it's basically impossible to reach inside someone's head and change their emotions for them).

So hooks notes that women are just as likely to uphold patriarchal gender roles as men, and one element of that is women's anger when men are emotionally vulnerable. Men who confess to their partners that they feel lost and ashamed and unworthy of love are doing exactly what women keep saying we want men to do, but the reaction many women have is a kind of incredulous frustration—"You want me to handle all this? Fuck no, I'm busy!"

Part of that reaction is that in patriarchal gender roles, it is a woman's literal job to completely soothe and manage her male partner's emotions—to diligently praise him, make him feel more accomplished, and to reassure him of her ongoing love and admiration in all things. And that is a lot of work that is quite likely not to succeed because it's really hard to talk someone out of a self-hating funk. (There's also an element of just plain sexism. Even without the implied demand for help, some women just think men's vulnerability is pathetic or laughable.)

The feminist response to this that hooks, Real, and Kivel advocate for is to spread the load a little more evenly; to work to reduce the violence with which gender roles are policed, to allow men to be soft and emotional, but in the process, give them the emotional skills to handle the shame and dread we all feel sometimes about not being lovable or or worthy, and empower them to form many different emotionally fulfilling relationships.

So the thing about incels is, they tend to be obsessed with finding a woman who will make them feel worthy, sexy, accomplished, admirable, and dominant, like a "real man". The prospect of getting a woman is the single potential oasis of love and support in an incredibly bleak desert landscape in which a romantic partnership is the only possible source men are permitted to seek love and care from. A man who hasn't gotten a girl is a pathetic loser whose life is meaningless.

What that entire worldview takes for granted is how the desert became a desert in the first place. How boys learn to fear the violence and rejection that comes from stepping out of their gender role by being emotionally vulnerable or by emotionally nurturing somebody else; how emotional knowledge and expression are punished by a system that says men should always seek to dominate. The desire for a female partner rests on a bedrock of learned fear and contempt for the idea that men can or even should have the kind of emotionally close and supportive friendships among themselves that women tend to have with each other.

Incels are the fucking allegory of the long spoons in action. They gather in huge numbers to discuss their pain, frustration, and disappointment about their difficulty attaining a relationship that provides emotional fulfillment, but it's impossible for them to try to seek or offer that kind of relationship with the many many people right there also looking for love, because violating the gender rules means inviting violence and ostracism. Affection and mutual esteem between men is super gay and doesn't count, especially when it's provided because of a mutual vulnerability instead of admiration for achievement. So it's incredibly hard for incels to in any way break out of the mental cage that says the way to be loved is to be as masculine, as stoic and unemotional and successful and admirable and dominant as possible. And because being dominant tends to require people to be better than, incels spend a lot of time criticizing each other for failing to be masculine enough, and therefore not worthy of love.

Meanwhile... tradwives.

If you're into men, the dream of being truly loved by a man who will take care of you and make your life materially better is fucking amazing stuff. That's just... that's just The Dream, okay? The romance industry's extreme popularity decade after decade will tell you what bell hooks also notes: Women who are into men want to be loved by men SO MUCH.

So it really seems to me that the basic appeal of being a tradwife is managing to be submissive enough to get the men they love to genuinely show up and fully commit to loving them. If conflict in relationships happen because men feel threatened in their masculinity or not fully loved by their wives, then gosh darnit, these women will plaster themselves over the cracks to make sure there are absolutely no problems. That will earn them a relationship where they are truly loved and appreciated.

(It's a trap. I hate to say it, but we're not a telepathic species, and you will never manage to be good enough to actually change what someone else feels. No matter how hard you submit, your husband will still feel moments of doubt and fear and inadequacy, because he's human and we're built like that. It's the cross we have to bear as a species. And it does not go well at all if both of you are used, in those moments, for blaming you for whatever you "did" to "make" him feel that way.)

[shipsandlattes]

So I know everyone has already dissected this scene to its core, but it’s taken me a good 48 hours to digest this and I just needed to get it out.

I’m an aspiring actor, I’ve been training for a long time, with a lot of amazing teachers. I’ve watched a lot of shows and shipped a lot of couples. Some of them beautiful and canon, others, well, let’s just say waiting 22 years and counting for acknowledgement, closure, anything, it’s a damn challenge. I’ve seen a hell of a lot of will-they-wont-they’s, baiting, purposeful ignorance, deliberate fake outs, zero explanations, storylines that basically caused canon disintegration, the works.

In saying that, Dean and Cas were right up there on the list with the other “impossibles” because honestly, I didn’t think the writers would have the guts to do it, but I am so f*cking proud they did. It’s safe to say I’ve watched the scene a good hundred+ times already. 

I’ve seen a lot of “controversy” around Dean’s reaction/Jensen’s acting choices and whether or not Dean reciprocates Cas’ feelings, and obviously, I needed to add my own views to the mix.

Just work with me for a minute here.

Dean Winchester is an emotionally repressed trainwreck, and ironically enough, the one that is so full of emotion it hurts to watch. When Cas first starts his speech, he’s confused, really confused because why on earth would Cas start off on a rant now? Billie’s waiting to kill them, he just said he knew something that was more powerful than she was, something that could save them. That’s where he thought this speech was going.

The confusion turns to realisation that it’s a goodbye when Cas starts telling him how incredible he is, how his entire essence is love. Go back and watch the scene again, when Cas says “you’re the most caring man on Earth”, you physically see Dean look down, his eyes searching, he’s actively trying to make sense of what’s happening, he knows what’s coming and you can see him coming to terms with the shock of the words being said to him. He then looks directly at Cas. That look, that was pure shock.

Also, notice how he doesn’t stop Cas from talking? He doesn’t interject, make a joke, doesn’t talk about how there is no time for this now, they’ve got to at least try and stop Billie. He. says. nothing. He listens, he listens like I’ve never seen Dean listen before. Because it’s sinking in now.

When Cas really starts crying, when he says “you changed me, Dean”, you can actually see the pain in Dean’s eyes. He’s no longer in control of his emotions, he’s crying too. He’s never seen Cas like this, so raw, and vulnerable and human. This is the hardest, most emotional conversation they’ve both ever had. They are talking about the one thing that everybody knows, but is never addressed. When it wasn’t talked about, they could deny it, live in the lie. Once it’s said aloud, it’s real and they can’t turn back.

This above series of interactions is the part that kills me the most. The moment Cas says “because it is”, that’s the exact moment of realisation. Look at that last GIF, really look. He’s just worked it out, that he is Cas’ true happiness. He knows what’s coming before Cas even says it. Go back and watch the scene again, they pulled that off so well, the way the music swells at this exact moment. Jensen is giving us everything here, you can see what’s happening in his head - he is Cas’ happiness. He is the one thing on Earth Cas wants and thinks he can’t have. He is the reason Cas is about to die. He knows what Cas is about to say and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it, not now, not like this. It’s almost a silent plea not to say it, because he knows. Of course he knows. It’s like he can’t quite believe Cas is really, after all this time, finally going to say it.

And because obviously Jensen decided that that wasn’t enough to break us, the loaded reaction when Cas says “I love you” has me nothing but convinced that it’s reciprocated. Because Dean knows. He’s always known. Those tears, that head tilt, that gulp. He’s so genuinely confused that they’re really having this conversation. It’s like he can’t quite believe that this is the reality before him because he’s been living in that denial, in that self-loathing and unlovable layer he believes to be true. He’s been under the ‘what if... but it could never be’ umbrella for so long. 

What also makes this real is that there isn’t anyone else around this time. When “I love you’s” have been said before, they have always been able to deflect it, with other people or other words. Now it’s just the two of them. No deflecting, no running away. Dean is forced to hear it, to absorb it, to realise it’s for nobody else but him.

Now, I don’t know if you guys felt this, but when Dean says “Don’t do this, Cas”, he wasn’t just referring to Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, he’s telling Cas that he can’t just say this, not now, knowing he’s going to die, knowing that Dean won’t get a chance to think, to process, to say what he needs too. I keep staring at that GIF above, Dean is breaking down, I’m almost convinced that Jensen was using an “I love you too, please just stop this” inner monologue for this bit. Look at the way he’s looking at Cas before he realises the Empty has started materialising and turns around. That’s a look of pure heartbreak. Trust me when I tell you, it’s really hard to keep those inner thoughts inside if you’re so in the moment - actually, don’t just take my word for it, read any acting book, ask any actor, it’s so hard to keep that in and sometimes you don’t, and sometimes you do - it’s in both the resistance and the letting go that the gold happens. This my friends, is gold. 

Did anyone else hear “Cas, I-”, well, regardless of whether or not it was an “I” or a very sharp breath, the outcome is the same. Dean’s gone into immediate panic mode. The Empty at one end and Billie at the other, and all poor Dean wants to do is gather his thoughts on not what to say but how to say it. I don’t think he comprehended just how little time he had, he was so focused on what was being said that the reality of the situation caught him completely off guard.

Also, I know this post was about dissecting Dean’s reaction, but can we sidebar a minute to talk about Cas as he pushes Dean out of the way? He’s sobbing, he’s fully crying. That hit me really hard, I’ve never seen Cas cry like that, I’ve never seen Misha get to play that level of emotion before and it was the most heartbreaking thing to watch since The Doctor and Rose and Buffy and Spike, to which by the way, I find many parallels between those couples and this scene.

Speaking of crying, that brings me to this: Dean slumped on the floor, ignoring a call from Sam, sobbing his heart out knowing he’s lost everything. Dean-I’m-emotionally-unavailable-Winchester is sobbing. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing Dean cry like this before either, the sobbing was so evident and piercing in that silence. The look around the room, the burying of his head in his hands, that is a classic writers romantic love trope if I’ve ever seen it, they really pulled out all the stops with this one.

So, to summarise, I think Jensen’s choices and Dean’s reactions were absolutely and utterly perfect. They both did it so well that it didn’t break from character that these two emotionally distant and repressed men are in love and finally voicing it. Jensen barely said two words and still managed to cause mass coronary’s across the fandom. That my friends is what you call a brilliant actor. I bow down to the talents of these two amazing human beings.

Before I leave this novel, I have to say there are now a few things I’m going to need from the powers that be to not screw this up, help me manifest this:

1. Dean gets to reciprocate his feelings to Cas in person. So, I’m gonna need Cas back and a very emotional Dean.

2. Dean to be actively dealing with heartbreak in the next episode (unless they decided to bring Cas back that soon, which I wouldn’t put past them at this point).

3. Sam to confront Dean about his feelings for Cas, because out of everyone, he’d be the one to hit Dean with the truth of his fears. Sam knows. Sam is supportive. Sam sees it all.

4. I’m gonna need some physical affection, cause after 12 years of nonsense, we damn well deserve it. A hug, and not just any old reunion hug, a proper, this is different now hug. A kiss because hello, in love out loud now. Forehead touching, handholding, really gonna need the works here.

5. A happy ending for the two of them, one way or another. We’ve never had one, it’s time.

Okay, have at it now, let’s speak these into existence please.

Note: GIFs are not mine, I did not make them, credit to owners who I’m not sure of, but they’re beautiful, thanks for making them. EDIT: I’ve just been informed that these gorgeous gifs belong to @michaeldean​ and @inacatastrophicmind​! 

[thearvariblues]

The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality

Word count: 3601

*

“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.

“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”

“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”

“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.

To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.

If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.

“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”

“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”

“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.

“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.

“As if,” Geralt grunts.

“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.

“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”

“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”

“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”

“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”

“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”

“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”

“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”

*

“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.

“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”

“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”

“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”

“Can you prove that I’m not?”

“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”

“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”

“What proof?”

“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”

“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.

“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”

“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”

“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”

“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”

“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”

“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”

“Try me.”

*

“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”

“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”

“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”

“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”

“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.

*

“I got myself cursed.”

Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.

“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.

“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.

“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.

“Hm,” he says instead.

“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.

“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”

“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.

“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”

*

“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.

“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.

“Excuse me, and how would you know?”

“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”

“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”

“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”

“Maybe I do that on purpose!”

“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”

“Mostly being the important word here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”

“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”

“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”

“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”

“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.

Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.

“Thank fuck.”

*

“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.

Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.

“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”

“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”

“Forty-seven, why?”

Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.

“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”

When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.

So, a potion…

*

“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.

“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”

“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”

“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”

Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.

“Oh, Geralt. Really?”

“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.

“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”

“Really what, Yen?”

“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”

“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.

Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”

*

“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.

“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”

“You clearly don’t know me at all–”

“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”

“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”

“What was your third wish?”

“Pardon me?”

“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”

“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”

“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.

“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”

*

“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.

“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”

“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”

*

“You see, there was this artifact–”

Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.

“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”

“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”

*

“You’re not a succubus.”

“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”

“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”

“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”

“All right… Explain, please?”

Geralt grunts.

“I’d really rather not.”

*

“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.

“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.

“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.

“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”

“Hm… No.”

*

“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”

“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”

“A hundred and four.”

“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”

“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”

“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”

“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”

He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…

“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”

“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.

“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”

“You…” Geralt mutters.

“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”

“We are?”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”

“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”

“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”

The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.

And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.

*

“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.

It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”

“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”

“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”

“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.

“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”

“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”

“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

*

The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.

Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.

“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”

“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”

“Julian!”

A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.

“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.

The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.

“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”

“You’re…” Geralt blinks.

“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”

“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”

“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”

“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.

“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”

“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”

“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”

“But you don’t age!”

“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”

“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.

“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”

“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”

“Oh, so we have spies now?”

“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”

Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.

“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”

“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”

“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”

“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.

“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”

“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”

“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.

“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”

“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”

“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”

Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.

“Another thousand years, I’d say.”

*

“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…

The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.

“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”

“No shit.”

“I think I might be… Uhm…”

“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.

“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.

“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”

“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”

“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”

“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”

“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”

“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”

“Explains a lot, though.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”

“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.

“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”

“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”

***

Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)

[myherowritings]

PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month. 

The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place. 

The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of. 

You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?

When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista. 

Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores. 

Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.

But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do. 

It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour. 

“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”

“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack. 

“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”

The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”

He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming. 

You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”

“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?” 

“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!” 

He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.” 

“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot. 

The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.) 

You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.” 

“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?” 

“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now. 

“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?” 

He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.” 

“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.

“Yeah. Shouto.” 

You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”

He nodded. 

“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.” 

Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either. 

“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”

You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit. 

“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.” 

“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.” 

He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.” 

His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility. 

“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter. 

The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through. 

“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?” 

She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron. 

“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!” 

For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?” 

“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”

“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.” 

You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning. 

“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.

“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”

“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”

With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!

“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.” 

You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude. 

“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”

Cue another internal sigh. 

Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.

Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.

a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3

what to expect in the next part:

~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows 

old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice 

we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D

[harryskalechips]

one and done

A/N Hi everyone! I’m back with a one shot :) I know I don’t write as often anymore but since I’m self quarantining and I’m just about finish with high school, I thought I should try and give it another go? I’m also re starting up my jewellery business so ahhh many goals in mind but no motivation ??? Okay, I hope you guys enjoy this one!!! It is definitely a slow burn with smut but part 2? I dunno!!

Y/N and her brother’s best friend Harry, has had some pent up sexual frustration for a while. Wouldn’t it be best if they just had a one and done? you know to get it out of their system ;) 

*smut includes spanking, choking, male and female receives oral, harry dom but Y/N rides, magic face cream treatment for anti wrinkling results? Yes, and what else? sub space, hair pulling, gosh I forgot please read it 😁

Word Count: 6.1k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST

“Don’t you think it's a bit of a cliché to be crushing on your brother’s best friend?” Ness teases Y/N as they walk out of her house. They were just on the steps about to go on a walk around the block. It was definitely one of their favourite things to do as the sun was just about to set.

Y/N had her butt sat on the spruced wooden steps as she ignored her best friend’s comment. First off, she knew it was a cliché. Secondly, her last encounter with him just seconds ago was already making her plan her own execution.

In her head, it was simply her just jumping out of her window multiple times until she lost consciousness. Ness on the other hand was standing up, watching the poor girl tie her laces. “Okay, I was just teasing. We can change the topic.” She lends her hand out for Y/N to take.

“It’s not just that Ness.” She gladly accepts the gesture and stands up. She wipes off her butt and glances back at the door. “I’ve never had a thing for him! Ryan and Harry have been best mates since what? 8th grade and for some reason ever since the cruise from last summer, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“It’s because he was shirtless half of the time.” Ness laughs as she hands Y/N’s water bottle to her. “Okay, we can admit it though. As a senior he is 10 times more attractive than he ever was. He looks like a frat boy that could jump my bones.”  Y/N stops walking and just stares at Ness while the girl continues to walk. She grabs her hand and pulls her forward. “Okay, I’m sorry for the bad comment.”

“He is hot though. Really hot.” Y/N smiles.

“See, that’s why you should sleep with him.”

“What are you crazy? Ness, Ryan would kill me or him -maybe the both of us!” 

“It’s pent up sexual frustration. Harry legit watched us walk out your door while eating a banana and you still managed to trip on your shoes.” She laughs.

“He was making eye contact with me!”

“All I’m saying is that he throws parties at his house and always invites us despite y’know us being juniors. Just offer, do it, slip out, and never say anything about it ever again.” Ness elbows Y/N as she crosses her arms. 

“Maybe I will.” She laughs pretending to actually sound confident in the idea.

“Good, there’s a party this Friday anyway.” Ness shrugs her shoulders. “It’s the best remedy sis.”

~

“Harry, can we talk?” Y/N follows him into the kitchen while everyone else is God knows where around the house. 

“Ryan is in the backyard, trying to get Cassidy back.” He barely glances at her as he pours himself a drink. He notices an empty one in her hand so he decides to pour coke in hers. 

“I um wasn’t really drinking coke.” She states confusedly as she watches the bubbles in her cup dissolve.

“You think I’m trying to get you drunk at this party. One alcoholic beverage is good enough for yeh.” He smiles at her as he screws the cap shut and taps the top of her head. He was treating her as if she was a child, which definitely pissed her off since she was going to ask him a really fucked up favour in the matter of 60 seconds.

“I can handle myself, you know.” 

“Yup.” He rests his back against the counter and bites the rim of the plastic cup as he looks at her. “What do you need though?” He genuinely asks her. Although they weren’t that close, Harry knew her long enough to know she wouldn’t start random a conversation with him. It was more like a hi and bye situation. Not her trying to actually talk to him. 

“I have a favour and you can’t tell Ryan.” Y/N lets out a big breath as she watches his reaction change into a confused one. 

“Look Y/N, if you want to try and smoke a blunt, I think it’s best you find yourself a dealer that doesn’t know your brother.”

“No, not that.” She whispers as she moves in closer. There were more people entering the kitchen and this was about to get really fucking awkward. 

“What?” He looks at her and notices her body shifting closer to him. Her chest was touching the side of his arm, making his eyes look towards the cabinets instead.

“I-”

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna fu-?” His eyes widen as he downs the rest of his drink in one go. Harry doesn’t even let her continue as he steps away from Ryan’s little sister. 

“I’m sorry do I already know the rest of that question?” He tries not to obviously choke on the liquid in his mouth.

“Well, I don’t know you didn’t really let me finish.”  Her sassy tone comes out. Her cheeks were really red and although Y/N came to the party with Ness feeling really confident in the dress she picked. She just wanted to go home and not show her face to him ever again. This was the stupidest idea! Why on earth did she think Harry would want to sleep with her when there are so many girls that try to get his attention. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He bites the inside of his cheek and watches some familiar people leave the room. Once it’s clear again, he speaks up. “Like are you serious?” He could feel his throat becoming more stuffy. “You and me?” She nods. “Really?” She nods again. “That’s crossing the line and Ryan is pretty overprotective. I can’t do that to him.”

“Cool.” Y/N stands perfectly still as she tries her best to maintain eye contact with him. She takes a sip of the coke but later, grabs the bottle of alcohol and pours it into her cup regardless of him watching her. “Well, don’t let Ryan know.” She shrugs her shoulders and laughs. “Thanks for answering my survey!” She gives him an awkward smile then walks out of the room. How can a guy pass up on her??? First rejection has gotta sting. 

This wasn’t some weird guy she was asking though. This was Harry, Ryan’s best friend. If Ness was put in his position, she wouldn’t want her to say yes either. God, she was also going to kill her best friend for putting the most ridiculous game plan in her head.

And although the party continued on, Ness and Y/N didn’t let the earlier events bother them. The two spent hours just fucking around until they found a comfy spot in the living room.

“Y/N, don’t look.” Ness sits beside her on Harry’s couch watching a few strangers play an unfamiliar game on the floor. 

“What?” she quickly looks up to see what Ness is talking about. It wasn’t a surprise to see Harry holding Carla Laws’s hand as they walked up the stairs. They looked pretty excited for a room tour too.

Oh hell no, everyone knows a girl doesn’t go to Harry Styles’ room to just hold hands and a cute sentimental room tour!

“Are you sure he didn’t want to with you?”

“Yes Nessa.” She rolls her eyes and drinks her third cup. “Whatever, if anything at least I don’t feel attracted to him anymore. I found a new ick. He doesn’t even find me attractive.”

“Good. Rejection may hurt but it makes you wake up and face reality.” 

~

Okay if there was one thing Y/N could say now, it was that she is finally over Harry. Overall, he was nothing but a phase. Yes, she was crushing on him for the first semester of the year but after that weird conversation they had, it made sense why they couldn’t work out anyway. He’s a stuck up douche - a typical senior, all while she was a junior who was either too infatuated with him or too horny. Maybe both?

It’s been about two weeks and although Ness made sure to keep trash talking the guy, Y/N knew there was more to him than what her best friend thought. She knew him for years! Maybe the fact he was athletic, charismatic and just kind that made her realize what a perfect guy he was. She knew he was a bit more complex than what other people thought of him and it wasn’t bad at all. 

What she never thought was how awkward it was going to be the next time she saw him. “Hey, Haz.” Ryan opens the door for his buddy as Y/N covers herself with the blanket more all while pretending to watch TV.

For the past couple of days, Ryan was going over to his house and maybe Harry asked him too to come over, but what she didn’t expect was to see him again so soon. 

“Hey Ryan.” Harry takes his jacket and boots off as it just begun to snow outside. “Hey Y/N.” She quickly glances at him and waves. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen first, I wanna get snacks.” Ryan suggests as he walks away, assuming Harry would follow him like usual. 

After thirty minutes, Y/N thought the boys would be upstairs but as she entered the kitchen wearing nothing but her shorts and her brother’s old t-shirt, she was surprised to see Harry and Ryan eating sandwiches at the breakfast bar, looking pretty serious. Did Harry tell him? 

As she walked closer, she noticed both boys were just on their phones, scrolling through different social media platforms. She quickly brushes past them to put her dish in the sink. Ryan seemed unbothered but she could definitely feel Harry’s eyes on her. Once she makes eye contact with him, he quickly takes a sip of his juice and looks at his phone once more. “Y/N can you grab the chips in the cabinet please?” Ryan looks up at his phone and notices his sister was standing right in front of the cupboard. 

“Yeah, no problem.” She turns her back on them and opens the cabinet. She goes on her tiptoes reaching for the only bag of chips. Once she grabs them, she puts them on the counter and walks out of the room, only hearing her brother murmur a thank you. 

It was about 6:30 PM and the parents weren’t home yet. Ryan and Harry decided to chill in the living room when the doorbell rang. Pausing the game, Ryan opened the door to see Tom standing in front of him. “Y/N it’s for you!” He calls out for his sister since he knew Tom was her friend.

“Who’s that?” Harry mouthed.

“Her boyfriend.” Ryan shrugs as he unpauses the game. 

“Tom? What are you doing here?” Y/N walks down the stairs, pulling her shirt down. 

“Vanessa told me to come by. Apparently you need help with the calculus homework? I’m free tonight anyway.” He smiles and gives her a hug. Tom was a really good friend of Ness and Y/N. He was a smart boy that was really kind and obviously had a big crush on Nessa. There was anything he could do for her. 

Y/N instantly bit her cheek and laughed as she remembered Ness’ text message a couple of hours ago when she told her Harry came by. This was definitely one of Ness’ master plans. “You’re so sweet.” She pulls away and laughs. “We can go upstairs, I have a few questions to ask.” She quickly glances at her brother who doesn’t care all while Harry tried his best to maintain his eyes on the screen. 

“Y/N, Put some shorts on!”  Ryan finally yells out as the two went up the stairs. 

~ 

“I don’t get why he throws parties every weekend.” Ness takes a sip of her drink as they sit inside Harry's dining room. They probably weren’t going to stay too long. Everyone was inside due to the cold weather with the occasional smokers outside. Being the only few juniors, there wasn’t much the girls could do other than loiter around, drink a few cups and play the games they knew so well. Y/N wasn’t the type to have random hook ups but you know her exception with Harry. 

“Gemma has gone off for college and Anne is always working really late shifts at the hospital. He’s pretty much anywhere and everywhere besides his house unless it’s a party.”

“True.” 

“I’m going to say bye to my brother then we can head back to mine if you want?” Y/N offers as Nessa nods and downs her drink. 

“I’m going to drink a cup of water. Meet you at the front?”

“Mhm.” They both stand up and leave the room. Nessa was heading straight to the kitchen while Y/N began to wander around the house. 

“Y/N.” Harry calls out her name over the music. He was wearing a while long sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned. It made him look really attractive which almost made Y/N lose her breath. 

“Hey Harry, You know where Ryan is?” The only typical thing she would ever ask him before that one time. (Pretending as if she didn’t sexually harass him last time.) 

“He’s downstairs with the rest of the boys.” He glances around at everyone and looks at her once more. “I’m sorry, are you um- leaving?”

“Yeah me and Nessa are going to call it a night.” She wraps her hoodie around her figure and tries to make her way to the stairs. 

“Want me to give you girls a ride?”

“No no, it’s okay!” She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Nessa drove. You also have a party to h-”

“It’s kind of late maybe she should head home and we can-” And that’s when it hit her. Was Harry Styles trying to isolate her? 

“Oh.” She widens her eyes and slowly nods. “Okay. I’ll let my brother and Ness know. Should I meet you in your car outside?”

“Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair and quickly leaves her side. After bidding her farewell to Ryan and explaining her interpretation of Harry to Ness, she was  quietly leaving the house as she watched Nessa walk by herself to the car down the street. What surprised Y/N more was to see him in his brown jacket standing by the passenger door. 

“Did you tell Ryan I was dropping you off?” He  nervously smiles as he opens the door for her. He makes sure no one is watching them leave together as he feels the butterflies forming in his stomach. 

“No.” She puts her hood on and sits in his car. She was picking on her stockings trying to avoid the awkward tension between them. Once Harry sat inside and they both put their seatbelts on, they were on their way to her house. It was weird knowing she was actually leaving a party with her brother’s best friend so she could suck his- 

 “What happens if they notice you’re gone?”

“Um, I’m sure they’ll think i'm elsewhere doing stuff.” She knew what he was thinking about and that made her a bit uncomfortable but it didn’t change the fact it was true.

“Are you still down to y’know?” Harry honestly never thought he would be this nervous talking to Ryan’s little sister. 

“Yeah.” She bites her lip as they glance at each other. 

“Cool. Are you like a virgin or something. I mean is there anything that I should know about?”

“No.” She shakes her head and low-key observes how he drives. 

This was going to be one hell of a night. 

Harry has seen Y/N’s room a countless number of times but to actually be with her by themselves in Ryan’s house made him feel really guilty. That guilt however, was shoved in the back of his throat. The girl in the room with his was obviously the best distraction. “I like your room.” he smirks at her as he looks at her soccer trophy collection from grade school. 

“Thanks.” She laughs lightly as she takes off her jacket. She quickly texts an update to Ness before putting the phone on do not disturb. 

“So before we start, what made you ask the offer?” He takes his jacket off and throws it on her chair. He sits on her bed and glances at the time. It was still early, so people probably weren’t going to be looking for him. 

“This is going to sound really dumb but I’ve had this crush on you since the cruise last summer. Well, you know Nessa... she had this thought and she thinks it is just pent up sexual frustration?” She shakes her head of saying the whole idea out loud. “So I thought maybe I should just get it out of my system.” Harry laughs as he takes in of what she just said. it made her smile as well.

“You were checking me out all summer?” He asks her in disbelief. “Little Y/N wanted to jump my bones?” He started to smirk at her. Although they didn’t know each other too well, the awkward tension was gone with just one simple laugh of his. 

“Stop laughing.” She throws a pillow at him. “I didn’t think you would say no.”

“I didn’t want to say no Y/N are you crazy? I’m laughing because I kept checking you out in those tiny bikinis you used to wear.” He throws the pillow to the side and shakes his head. “I don’t want to cross Ryan like that but I think i need to get you out of my system too.”

“Mhm and why’s that?” She locks her door and sits on the bed with him. “Because Carla couldn’t distract me from seeing you in my sheets.” He leans in and kisses her. “Tom coming by a few days ago with you wearing nothing but those little shorts was already making me lose my mind.” He whispers and kisses her again. 

Y/N immediately sits on his lap while trying her best to keep his mouth on her’s. Everything about this was so hot. She was about to just rip his clothes off. 

“One and done yeah?” Y/N rubs herself on him as her fingers tangle themselves in his hair. He kisses down her neck while grabbing her ass. 

“One and done. Just to get you out of my system.” He confirms with her as he gently throws her on the bed. He’s pulling his long sleeve off and taking his shirt off but once he begins unbuckling his jeans, he couldn’t help but notice Y/N trying to take her shirt off as well. “Fuck.” He murmurs as he gently unbuttons her long sleeve to help her take it off. In a flash, he’s on his knees unzipping her skirt and taking her stockings off as well. “You looked really pretty tonight by the way.” His cheeks flush as he throws her bottoms behind his back. Y/N laughs quietly and she sits up and brings his face closer to hers. 

“I actually would like to say the same exact thing.” He leans in to kiss her once more. Her lips were extremely soft and forbidden and it was making him slowly lose his mind all over again. Y/N thought Harry was just a phase but that seemed impossible as she was already dreading the fact this was a one and done situation. 

“You’re just so fucking soft and alluring.” He whispers in her ear as he unclasped her bra. “I already know I need to fuck you hard.” Y/N eyes’ roll back as she feels his wet mouth on her nipple as the other one massaged the other. Her hands were trying really hard to focus on the task at hand which was to undo his pants but it was definitely not working with the way he was distracting her. Not a single thought could process in her mind.

“I think since this is a one and done situation, you better make this memorable.” She whispers and bites her lip as she tries to hold back a moan. His fingers were teasing her covered entrance but Harry could feel her drenched spot already clenching at his presence. 

“Memorable? I’ll definitely leave my mark on you.” He sucks on her mouth more roughly than usual as he rubs his fingers on her centre. “You wanted me so bad baby? You just had to beg me huh?” He gestures his hips more forward to help her with his pants. 

“I’m kind of new to this. Be a bit patient.” Y/N laughs as she gently unzips his pants after numerous attempts.  

“You just ruined the moment.” He laughs with her as he kisses her forehead and takes his pants off as well. “Just kidding, this is probably the most fun I had.” He hovers over her again and teases her entrance. 

“What do you mean?” She lays on her back and roams her hands all over his chest. 

“Never got the chance to tease the fuck out of a pretty girl then fuck her hard.” He slaps her clit and bites down on her lip. She suddenly lets out a moan that makes her eyes flutter and her chest rise closer up to his face. 

He brings two of his fingers to her mouth and slowly lets her lick on it before rimming her entrance and shoving it in without any warning. His thumb slowly rubs her swollen numb as he can’t help but rub himself on her sheets as well. “You mind if I get a little bit of a taste? I’ve been dying to know. I saw you earlier at the party and I had to jerk myself off seeing you in those little stockings of yours.” 

“You. You jerked yourself off thinking about me, baby?” She looks down at him and smiles softly. He gives her a little smirk before pulling his hand away and heading his head down a bit south. His tongue dips slowly on the left side of her leg as his hands grip her thighs tightly, sure of the bruises to form soon.

“You’re like a fucking wet dream. How can I say no to you?” He urgently swipes his whole tongue on her centre. “I saw you earlier and had to go to my room.” He takes another lick. “Fuck baby, the best i’ve fucking tasted. Fuck oh fuck.” He precisely observes the way your whole swallows his fingers in and clench so tightly around him. His tongue dipping and switching with his fingers because he honestly can’t decide which is best. 

“Harry, fuck me please baby.” Y/N moans loudly as she harshly grabs on her boobs. She’s never been fucked this good. It was honestly feeling like a dream. With that being said, she’s only had sex a handful of times but Harry seemed like such an expert in the field. “Oh God.” She tries to pull away. She wasn’t sure if she could continue on with Harry obsessively licking and sucking on her wet centre. 

He looks up and watches her eyes roll back as her fingers begin to pull on his head aggressively. His only reflex is to spread her legs wider. After her first orgasm, Y/N lays on her back staring at her ceiling trying to catch her breath. 

“Fuck me.”

“We aren’t done yet, love.” He laughs at her cuteness. He can’t remember the last time where he wasn’t rushing to finish himself off. He was taking his time with Y/N since it’s what she deserves. He lays down beside her and kisses down her chest. “Tell me when you’re ready to go, yeah?” He dips his tongue on her shoulder until it reaches the huge hickey he left on her collarbone. He gently licks around it and sucks on it again. 

He was a bit surprised to see Y/N sit up and grab a condom from her drawer. “Thank you for fucking the shit out of me, I’ll gladly return the favour.” She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear as she focuses on putting the contraceptive on him. Just touching it was already forming butterflies in her stomach. 

“I could’ve been fucking you on that cruise.” he mischievously smiles at her as he watches the way her pretty tits move. 

“You were sharing a room with my brother.” She hisses as she holds onto his shaft trying to gently ease the pain as she fully sits on him. 

“But you were alone.” He grabs onto her waist and helps her. “You’re so beautiful fuck.” He sits up on her headboard as her palms rest on his chest. Both of their eyes couldn’t help but watch the way he was easily penetrating her. 

“Was touching myself because of you.” She mumbles out as her speed begins to increase.

“What did you say baby?” He almost chokes on his breath as he can feel her fully taking him in. 

“Couldn’t stop thinking of you on that cruise. I needed you to rail the fuck out of me.” She moans louder as she starts to feel his hips meet her. 

“Fuck me. So perfect, Shit.” He quickly turns them around and shoves himself back into her. His hand immediately tightens around her neck and once he is about to pull it away, she keeps his hand on her. 

“Fuck me harder.” She cries out as his arm begins to push her legs up. He spits in between their centres before thrusting as hard as he can. All you could hear was her headboard banging against the wall as his hand continuously choked the fuck out of her. 

“I bet you like getting spanked too huh?” He bites his lip and semi turns her body before slapping her ass. 

“Harry fuck.”

“Come on, baby. Be a good girl and come around my cock.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Y/N cries out as her fingernails scratch his back. “Come in my mouth. I want to taste you so bad please.” tears begin to form in her eyes as she continues to clench around his dick. Harry immediately pulls off the condom and helps her sit up on her knees. She absolutely could not feel a thing below her stomach but with Harry’s hard cock in her mouth, she was already closing her eyes and trusting him with everything she was. She’s never been this fucking vulnerable, she was literally about to pass the fuck out. 

She was softly holding onto his thighs but her hands found comfort on his waist as he began to fuck her mouth harder. Harry on the other hand, kept his eyes on how her mouth was taking him in. He watched the way his fingers wrap around her hair tightly as he brought his hips closer and closer until he could feel her gagging on his dick. Without a warning, he immediately pulls out and spills all over her face.

“Why’d you do that?” She opens her eyes and pouts. She was pretty upset how she couldn’t taste him spill into her mouth. So her finger immediately takes a swipe of his spill and puts it in her mouth. Without hesitation, she’s taking his forming soft dick in her hands before softly licking it clean and softly sucking on his balls. She takes his shaft and swipes her cheek once more before licking the rest of his spill from his shaft. 

“You’re going to make me hard again if you keep doing that baby. Might not be as nice as I was this time.” 

“Maybe I want another round?” She gestures him to lie down as she continues to kiss and suck on his cock. 

“Thought it was a one and done.” He softly smiles as he removes some of the hair from her face.

“How about a one and done night?”

“Deal.”

And although they thought this was crossing a line, they already knew the moment their lips touched, they wouldn’t be able to stop.

~

“Wait so he changed his mind!” Nessa laughs as they drive back home. “Bitch how are you at school today? I literally saw you limping at lunch.”

“Shut up.” Y/N mouth widens as she rubs her face. “I don’t know what happened okay? We said one and done but we honestly went a couple of rounds before I had to wake him up so he could drive back home.”

“But is he out of your system? Don’t get me wrong Harry’s a fine guy but like dating wise? He’s been with other girls but somehow always goes back to Carla. They’ve been like that before you and Ryan moved here.” 

“Yeah, he’s out of my system.” Y/N laughs but truth be told, some nights when she can’t sleep, she’ll find herself staring at the ceiling. 

“Why are you guys home so early?” Nessa asks once they step inside the house. There was a good comparison between Nessa and Ryan with Y/N and Harry. First off, Nessa literally saw Ryan as her older brother which meant they were pretty vocal towards each other. Secondly, Nessa was very comfortable at Y/N’s house almost as if this was her second home. 

“Carla and Cassidy are coming over.” Ryan smirks as Harry cleans the living room behind him. “During the party last night, I may have asked if they wanted to come over for a double date game night thing. Mom and Dad are cool with it since it's a Monday which is their date night too.

“Oh have fun.” Y/N buds in and laughs. “Make sure to actually vacuum please. You don’t want the girls finding your crumbs on the carpet.” She takes her jacket off as Nessa follows behind her up the stairs. Harry obviously tried to ignore the fact, she bluntly ignored him. 

“Double date? Damn, you guys really did just fuck and brushed it under the carpet.”

“It meant nothing right. So?” Y/N tries to brush off the topic as she sets her backpack down. “Why won’t you sit down?” “On that bed?” Nessa smiles awkwardly as she glances at the double bed near the wall. 

“I changed the sheets.” Y/N takes her shirt off and replaces it with another loose top. She unzips her pants and wears her black tights instead.

“So should we invite ourselves to their double date?” Nessa raises her eyebrows as she lays down on the bed. 

“No because it’s weird and I don’t want Harry to think I’m jealous.”

“I think you are.”

“Nope, I told you I don’t like him like that anymore and he’s out of my system.” She tries to ignore the fact, how she swallowed him without hesitation.

“Okay but wouldn’t it be better to prove to yourself you are just by being around him.” And although Y/N wanted to protest that, the two best friends ended up being invited by Ryan to play downstairs anyway. 

“You girls want a refill?” Ryan sits up from the coffee table as he cleans up the empty red cups. Ness, Carla, and Cassidy wanted a new one which made Y/N go help her brother out in the kitchen. 

“Are you having fun?” Ryan asks as he throws the cups in the recycling. Y/N pours the preferred drinks in the new cups as she looks up at her brother. 

“Yeah, I was wondering why you invited Ness and I. Don’t you think we’re cock-blocking?”

“Harry suggested you guys hang out with us while we played games. More competition is fun y’know. Plus you and Nessa can leave whenever.”

“Oh cool. Thanks, I guess?” 

“Yup.” He grabs two cups as she does. She couldn’t help but notice how Ryan suddenly started cheering. “Yeah, Styles get it! Woooo!” Y/N turns her eyes to notice Harry and Carla making out on the floor by the coffee table. 

“Are you guys dating again?” Cassidy laughs as she tries not to watch them make out.

“Sure.” Carla pulls away and pecks his cheek. Nerissa was just watching Y/N’s reaction and she knew it was a bad one. 

“Y/N could you walk me to the car? Appa just texted me and he’s wondering where I am. I forgot it was his birthday.” Nessa speaks up.

“Oh shit.” Y/N was clueless of her excuse. Which thankfully made her seem more genuinely in a rush to get out of the room. She sets the drinks on the table before going upstairs with Ness.

“How did you forget it was Appa’s birthday, Ness?” 

“I don’t know.” She packs her things up. “Why don’t you come with me? He’s gonna blow his cake soon.”

“Oh, I don’t want-”

“Come.” And if there was one thing Y/N knew well about Nessa, it was that she wouldn’t ever forget it was Appa’s birthday, especially if she just celebrated it a couple of months ago. Without a fight to say no, Y/N immediately grabs a hoodie as they walk down the stairs. 

“Ryan, I’m going to Ness’ to celebrate Appa’s birthday. I’ll be home soon before Mom and Dad comes home.”

“Oh okay.” Ryan waves at his sister as his arms rests on Cassidy’s shoulder. 

“Bye guys!” Ness and Y/N wave as they both exit the house immediately. Harry stays unbothered as he takes another sip of his beer. 

“Thank you for getting me the fuck out of there.” 

“It’s okay. We don’t actually have to leave you know. It’s 6 PM, I can drive the car to a different neighbourhood and you can cry all about him there.”

“I love you.” Y/N begins to tear up. 

“I love you too.”

~

“What’s Tom doing here?” Ryan’s eyes are in shock as he watches his sister hold hands with the familiar boy. What’s confusing is that Y/N went to Ness’ for a birthday. 

“He just wanted to come over.” She smiles innocently as she waves hi to the same party. It was just about 7 PM and the double date duo was watching an unfamiliar movie on TV. Nessa called Tom and Y/N had to explain their situation. Although he didn’t really want to do it. He knew Y/N wanted to prove something to the Harry guy. So as long as they didn’t do anything romantic or weird that would cross his boundaries, Tom was okay with it. 

“Aw, I didn’t know you were dating Thomas?” Cassidy smiles as she walks in with a bowl of popcorn. She hands it to Carla who is cuddling up against Harry on one of the sofas.

“We aren’t dating.” They both look at each other and laugh. Tom shakes his head and pulls Y/N up the stairs instead. 

Once the pair is gone, the dates begin to watch their movie again. “Ryan, you really don’t care if your sister is by herself with that boy?” Carla laughs as she feeds herself and Harry popcorn.

“I’m definitely not going to interfere with that, they’re probably doing the nasty already.” His eyes widen as he stuffs more popcorn down his mouth and although, Harry was keeping his eyes on the screen, there wasn’t anything sitting well with him knowing the girl he was with on the weekend was already in somebody else’s arms. 

The goal was to get each other out of their systems, why the fuck are they so jealous then?

great plan Vanessa. 

Part deux ici 

[mypoisonedvine]

peaches & cream || soft!dark Jake Wyler x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18​'s 5k challenge! I used the prompt, "the town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks."

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut (noncon), stalking/obsession, some degradation/negging (but lots of praise during the actual smut), kinda yandere vibes?, touch of breeding kink at the end, definitely flirting with the boundary between soft!dark and regular dark but I like to think it’s a fine line

“Sorry, but that’s a seasonal flavor,” the girl at the counter explained in a snarky monotone.

“Well, yeah, but isn’t it still… the season?” you pressed; normally you weren’t the sort of person to argue with a cashier over a milkshake, but the look she was giving you made you feel like she was holding out on you— especially when the promotional poster for the very thing you were trying to order was just behind her head, and said the flavor was available for two more days.

“We’re out,” she answered firmly, but then her face suddenly shifted to a much more pleasant expression as you heard the chime of the front door opening behind you.  

You felt his body hovering behind yours just as his hand laid on the counter beside you, caging you in.  It was even more unsettling with the context that there was a whole line of people waiting behind you already.

“I’ll get your usual,” the girl promised to the man beside with a flirtatious smile as she disappeared to the back, returning almost instantly with a shake in her extended hand.  “Peaches and cream milkshake— extra whipped cream, no cherry.  Enjoy!”

Your eyes widened at the reading of your own order.  “I thought you were out!” you protested, going completely ignored.

"If you were my girl, this sort of thing wouldn't need to happen."

You recoiled from Jake's voice in your ear, and he smiled in spite of your snarl, bringing the straw to his lips slowly.  With a shudder you walked away, deciding it was probably better to forgo a milkshake anyways— especially if it was a chance to avoid everyone’s favorite senior, the football king who basically owned the whole town for no other reason than being good-looking, athletic, and allegedly “charming” or whatever.

Of course, he followed you, sitting across from you in a booth and silently shooing his posse of fellow teammates to go off and give you two some space.  If only he would give you space.

“We can share,” he offered as he held the milkshake out towards you.  “I know it’s your favorite… it’s mine too.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you explained quickly as you pulled a book out of your backpack, intent on ignoring him since you couldn’t physically force him to leave.

He shrugged and returned to sucking on the straw, watching you unwaveringly as you tried to read your book— staring at the page was going well, but you couldn’t seem to actually get any words down.  Had you forgotten English as a written language or something?

“Could you leave?” you finally asked as you groaned and looked up from your book.  “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m literally just sitting here,” he reminded you.

“And it’s distracting!”

He smirked proudly.  “My presence tends to have that effect on people.  Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face back in your book.  “You know, you may have everybody else fooled, but someday you’re gonna have to leave this pathetic little town and go into the real world where throwing a ball isn’t a career and nobody fawns over you just because you have the audacity to be attractive.”

He chuckled lightly.  “Right, because you have those big city dreams of yours, but believe it or not some of us like this ‘pathetic’ little town.”

“Well, of course you would,” you snorted.  “Your dad’s the mayor and your girlfriend’s the head cheerleader.”

“My ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, finally getting your attention enough to make you shut your book.

“What?” you blurted out.

“Yeah, she dumped me,” he explained plainly.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, making him look much too proud of himself again.  “Finally snapped out of the brainwashing, huh?” you added, effectively killing his smug expression.

“I guess you could say that.  She met some college guy from out of town… I think her parents liked me too much, she needed a bit more rebellion.”

“Well, my condolences to you,” you smiled, “and my congratulations to her.”

“I thought you hated her,” he scoffed.

“Well, now she and I have something in common: a complete lack of interest in you!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he smirked, “she still comes over every now and again to suck my cock.”

You choked on nothing, face getting warm at his crude language.  He didn’t talk like that with anyone else; it was so cruel the way he kept everybody in town under his spell except you, the way he let you in on his real darkness with no one else to confide in or believe you.  

It was so fundamentally lonely, being the one person who wasn’t in love with Jake Wyler.  It was even worse being the one person Jake Wyler loved.

At least, that was the word he used multiple times in his semi-anonymous letters, his incessant calls and emails, his speeches outside your window.  He’d actually cooled off lately, you wondered if maybe he had finally let go of this ‘the one thing I can’t have’ obsession and learned to appreciate his girlfriend (who, for all her personality flaws, was objectively gorgeous, and seemed to at least be nice to him if nobody else).

But now that she left him (which you were still trying to process, honestly), you were surprised he hadn’t already moved on to the next best wannabe model and/or reinstated his campaign to win you over.

Then again, the look in his eye kind of made you think you were about to witness the second one.

“You know, when she does come over, I can only ever finish because I’m thinking about you,” he revealed in a low voice.  You grimaced and slid out of the booth, stuffing your book into your bag and barely managing to throw him a goodbye before you dashed out.  

It wasn’t like you really thought you could get away from him— he had made it clear over and over that you couldn’t— but the idea of being crammed in that booth with him, surrounded throughout the diner by his adoring fans who somehow didn’t manage to overhear him when he said those awful things, made you feel nauseous.

What you should’ve considered was that, fans or not, those people were witnesses, and now that you were running out into the dark streets of the town and he was chasing after you, you didn’t have any.  It was just you and him, and when you turned into an alleyway to try to get home faster, even the dim glow of the streetlights couldn’t see you anymore.

“Hey,” he stopped you with a tight grip on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Let me go!” you whined, trying to tug yourself away but only ensuring that his hand would leave a bruise on your arm.  

“I will when you just hear me out, okay?” he hissed, spinning you around to look up at him.  "Why don't you just give me a chance?  Don't you wanna be popular?" 

"I don't want to be anything that requires being within ten yards of you!" you spat.

He seemed bewildered, but you knew he wasn’t actually that stupid.  "Why?"

"Because you know why!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a little.  "Are we still on that, really?  I told you, you should take it as a compliment.  You know how many girls would kill to catch me jerking off in their panties?"

"You're sick, Jake,” you sighed, “and you're really good at hiding it from everyone else but I know what you really are.  You told me you needed help with algebra and I actually believed you, for months you were lying to me to get close so you could perv on me when you already had a girlfriend and two side chicks anyways— god, Jake, you're crazy!"

You yelped when he pinned you to the wall, blue eyes darker than ever.  "I really, really hate that word."

Against the wall, your back straightened as you felt the tone shift completely for a moment before he was back to his jovial self again, giving you a somber but almost-genuine smile.

“The only kind of crazy I am is crazy about you,” he defended with a laugh, leaning in a little closer.  “Why can’t you see that?”

As his eyes moved from your own to your lips, a renewed sense of fear shot through you.  “Jake…” you mumbled, apparently your feeble attempt to ask him to stop.

“Just one kiss,” he bargained, “and then I’ll let you go.  Okay?  That’s all I need.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, turning your head away as he leaned in even further.  “Stop.”

“Come on, it’s just a kiss, baby,” he cooed.  “Then you can leave.  Hey, you might actually like it.  You know, I think that’s what you’re really scared about… and I get it!  When I first realized I was in love with you, it was scary for me, too— I mean, I’m the most important guy in town and you’re just some bookworm, it’s sort of social suicide for me so I had a lot to worry about.”

There he went with his negging again, trying to bring you down to his level.  Your brain knew that, it saw right through it, but your gut still sank with doubt.

“But I know now that love is nothing to be afraid of,” he concluded.

“No, Jake,” you whispered, feeling tears well in your eyes, “I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you want.”

“Well, that is something to be afraid of,” he replied with the coldest laugh you’d ever heard; you didn’t hear any agreement, but the lack of denial was deafening.  “So just be my good girl and let me kiss you…”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes wide open and searching for anywhere to look but up at him.

He was so close now that his lips brushed against yours with his command: “say it.”

You stammered over your breath, not sure exactly what he was asking for, and you winced as you felt his grip tighten on your arms.

“Say, ‘kiss me’,” he clarified in a harsh whisper.  “Say, ‘please’...”

“Please,” you repeated awkwardly, hearing it in your voice but so clearly not your own words, “kiss me.”

He let his mouth intertwine with yours and your eyes were still wide open as he let his own fall shut, moving his hands to clutch your face gently instead as you gave a weak effort to kiss him back.

Objectively, he was good at this.  A lot of things were objectively true about Jake: as much as you forced yourself not to see it, he was handsome; as much as it didn’t really matter to you, a boycotter of all things sports, he was talented; and, as much as no one else realized it, he was completely deranged.  For every word of kindness from him there was another of anger.  For every love letter in your locker, there was a threat left scrawled on crumpled paper inside your bedroom, just so he could remind you that your parents would let him into the house if he asked and never question it.

Which was why it was extremely important that you did not enjoy this kiss.  You needed to hate the way his fingers traced over the pulse in your neck, the way his tongue tickled yours, the way his teeth just barely grazed your lip until your knees went a little weak.  

But wow, there was something primally satisfying about melting into his arms, feeling his strength support you like it was nothing when he held your waist and pulled you closer.

You could almost forget that it was him.  But then he mumbled your name into the kiss, nearly moaned it in fact, and it pulled you back to reality.  With a gasp, you pushed him away and blinked your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them; hating how quickly you’d started to give in to him.

“There, one kiss,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.  “I’m gonna go home now—”

“You can’t be serious,” he laughed incredulously.  “You’re gonna kiss me like that and tell me you don’t feel this, too?  We’re so meant for each other— we even order the same milkshake!”

“That doesn’t matter!” you denied.

“I love you!”

“That doesn’t matter either!”

You turned to leave but he grabbed you again from behind, covering your mouth with his hand when you opened your mouth to scream.  “Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he hissed in your ear, “and don’t walk away from me.”

Fighting against his grip did nothing but exhaust you: he only needed one arm to hold you back as he dragged you deeper into the alley.  Your legs swung wildly and landed a kick to his shin, and he plugged your nose while he was covering your mouth so you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen to me, you stuck up little bitch,” he growled.  “I’m really sick of this ‘hard to get’ act.  I know you want me.  So shut up and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, okay?  You gonna be good?”

In that moment, you would’ve agreed to anything for a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air, and so you nodded, the back of your head rubbing against his chest.

“You gonna be nice and quiet so nobody catches you getting fucked like a whore in this alley?”

Another nod, more feverish than the last, ended with a sharp inhale as he let go of your nose.  But he was still covering your mouth, his arm around you now feeling less like restraint and more like an embrace.

"I've wanted you for so long, you can't even imagine," he explained softly as he leaned down and kissed your neck, gripping your waist tighter.  "You and this perfect body of yours.  This smart little head that thinks too much…"

You swallowed dryly as his hand trailed lower.

"This pussy you've been hiding from me for much too long," he added darkly, roughly shoving his hand up your skirt.

You whined behind his hand but he didn’t seem to care; he pulled your skirt up and grinned at the sight of your panties— because he recognized them.

“I remember these,” he purred.  “They look good on you, baby, but they looked better covered in my come.”

Your cheeks burned with shame— you already hated yourself for still wearing the pair he’d tampered with, but it was harmless after a few runs through the washer, right?  You weren’t going to stop wearing your favorite panties just for him, that would mean he won, in a sense; or, that’s what you told yourself to justify not burning them.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m done with you,” he purred, slipping two fingers between your legs and growling slightly.  “Well, actually, you’ve already done a lot of the work for me.”

He pulled the fabric aside and explored your pussy instead, tightening his grip over your mouth as you made little muffled yelps.  The rough pads of his fingers found and targeted your clit instantly, that megawatt smile pressed against your ear as he started to rub your bud harder.

“Mm, feels good, huh?” he taunted, moving even faster as your hips jolted unintentionally.  He stopped only to bring the fingers to his lips, humming at the taste of you which he sucked off of them.  “So sweet, babygirl— better than any peaches and cream milkshake, that’s for sure.”

The wet fingers trailed down your body again, finding your entrance that he suddenly pushed into; it was a little too much without any warning and it made your eyes shoot wide open, a squeak barely escaping your throat.

"Just as tight as I imagined, baby,” he sighed, “all those times I used your panties, or hooked up with somebody who almost looked like you from behind.  You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I know you want it so bad.”

He took his fingers out of you to reach back and open his belt with one hand, the sound of the buckle matched in upsettingness only by the sound of his jeans sliding down to his thighs.

You heard your own breath loud and heavy against his hand as you felt his hard cock press against your thigh, a drop of precum smearing on your skin.  Your breathing halted suddenly, though, when he slid himself between your legs to rub his cock over your exposed and swollen pussy.

“Oh, babygirl, you really are too good to me,” he grinned, kissing your ear tenderly.  “So fucking wet and ready for me, huh?  You need it that bad?  You’re gonna get it, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you so good…”

Bracing yourself as best you could, you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance before he slammed in all at once, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “fuck, you’re so warm…”

Already he was fucking into you roughly, pumping faster and deeper, paying no mind to your choked sobs of pain from the wide stretch.  Even when it stung it felt oddly good, and the underside of his cock seemed to slide perfectly over your g-spot with each movement until your eyes began to roll back in your head.

“So fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely as he braced you against the brick wall for leverage, reaching back down with his free hand to rub your clit again.  He chuckled when your legs quivered, and he must have felt your walls tighten around him, too.  “I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby, if I take my hand away are you gonna be good?” he asked darkly.  You nodded, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom that came from not having his hand over your mouth anymore.  But then again, it was humiliating that now he could hear your panting breaths, your desperate mewls that you failed to swallow down.

He made a sound that was almost like a laugh as he watched you squirm in his arms, one more way he had to lord this all over you, as if forcing you to take him in an alley wasn’t enough on its own.

His breath against your ear was hot and strained, each meeting of your hips to his accentuated with a little grunt from him.  It didn’t help at all that his fingers were rubbing you just right, with so much skill that you wondered if he’d somehow figured out how you touched yourself when you needed to get off.  Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him to have spied on you before, even if you couldn’t figure out when or how.

The hand that used to cover your mouth slid up under your shirt and pulled your bra down, a large, rough hand groping each breast and pinching your nipples until you bit down on your lip to stay quiet.  For all the mocking and teasing he’d done before, he was pretty direct now— like he was trying to make you come as fast as possible, overloading your body with sensation.  

And did he have to be so fucking good at it?

“I know you’re close, babygirl,” he whispered in your ear, “just let go…”

“Jake, please,” you sobbed, too far gone to appreciate that no begging would make him stop now.

“Come for me,” he demanded roughly, fucking you even faster as he sucked a mark onto your neck, and finally it all came crashing down with a choked-out cry of his name and a gush of warmth dripping out around his length.

“Ohh fuck, there you go, fuck it feels good when you come for me,” he grunted, thrusting even faster.  “You’re gonna milk my cock with that pretty pussy, babygirl— you’re gonna make me come…”

“J-Jake, not inside!” you interjected, getting his hand back over your mouth in return.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, “waited too long for this to pull out now.  Feels too fucking good.”

Behind his hand, the difference between whines of hatred and moans of pleasure was irritatingly subtle.

“I love you,” he reminded you in a voice exhausted yet heavy with desire, “so fucking much…”

A few more erratic, brutal thrusts accompanied by heavy pants and he was gone; you could feel his cock pulsing with each rope of come that filled you, so deep that your head fell dejectedly with the realization you had no hope of washing it out now.

His hand fell from your mouth but he didn’t pull out for another few moments as he caught his breath, gently peppering your neck and cheek in slow kisses.  “Baby,” he finally sighed, breaking the crushing silence, “you’re so fucking perfect.  I knew you were made for me.”

I hate you, you wanted to cry out, but words escaped you as he hugged you tightly and pulled your panties back into place, soaking them with his come as it leaked out of you just like he’d promised.  He stuffed his cock back into his jeans and helped you adjust your clothes back to looking almost presentable, finishing it off by turning you around and smiling at you with serene pride before kissing your forehead.

"You're gonna make such a beautiful prom queen," he cooed, “especially if you’ve already got a nice little bump showing…”

His hand rubbed beneath your belly button for emphasis, making you whimper and force your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Shh, don’t cry, baby,” he soothed, kissing your cheek softly.  “Trust me, you're gonna love being my girl."

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!