#honestly once you start thinking about some of the... i was gonna say implied but they're pretty outright stated things in the show

[naiadic]

I have so many emotions about the finale but I also have thoughts

~~~~~~~SPOILERS~~~~~~~

First off, AAAA HES SO BABYGIRL, but more importantly he implies he was with Eve, too

Now admittedly, what he "had to offer" could have just been free will and the fruit of knowledge, but given the sexual vibe here I really want to believe this man got busy with Eve as well

But that also raises the question..

...we know Lilith is Charlie's mother, but was Lilith really the one that raised her? In almost every mention of Lilith we see her horns, but not in those family photos (or her finale scene, come to think of it...)

Plus I mean we have this whole hair thing going on, Lilith is usually shown to have swooped back hair, like a lil pompadour deal, while Eve has straight unstyled hair. Idk about you but it sure looks like Lilith loved and cared about charlie, but somewhere in there Eve came in and started being Bad Mom

i think there's a lot to be uncovered there. Somehow, somewhere the girls must be pulling a twin-switcharoo on us, I Just KNOW IT

Then we have Adam

I feel like its almost guaranteed that fucker is gonna pop up in hell, hiding for awhile or otherwise, just like Sir Pentious popped up in heaven after dying. They're both human souls! He's committed pretty much every sin during his time in heaven (pride, lust, and wrath being the most prevalent) and if sinners can rise by doing well, angels can fall by doing bad

Then..well...Alastor.

Honestly homeboy is still quite a mystery. It's clear to me he's made a soul contract that binds his powers, somehow making him weaker than he could be. Whether this was with Lilith or someone else is up for debate, but most fans think it was Lil herself.

One piece of possible evidence for this is in E1 when Zestial mentions rumors of Alastor "falling to holy arms". He says this BEFORE any mention of Charlie, too.

Personally, I think Alastor might not even be a human soul, or that he's somehow made a deal with himself for better control of his soul, and maybe he fucked it up somehow or had another deal impact it, just because of what he said during the finale about sinner's recognizing their full potential. I look forward to seeing his story play out!

(Also I wonder if he has some sort of power bank deal cuz that cut healed suspiciously quick once he got to all that green light...maybe he's got an item that lets him access bits of his greater power? And repair that staff of his?)

So yeah that concludes my rant, Im so fucking excited for S2

EDIT: Someone pointed out that Sir Pentious wasnt killed by an angelic weapon, but by a power blast if sorts (plus we dont SEE him physically die). That makes me wonder if he might've simply ascended at the last moment rather than specifically dying and then respawning...if that's the case maybe Adam won't return..

[theemporium]

[14.5k] ethan edwards was prepared for his rookie year in the nhl. he just wasn't prepared for a rat infestation, an unlikely roommate and to fall in love too. (smutty scenes mostly implied)

aka a fic based in the future when ethan finally joins the devils so don’t take anything remotely seriously!

happy birthday @httplando!! enjoy the belated birthday fic🤠gonna go mute you now before you spam my phone with voice notes of you giggling over ethan xoxo

.

SEPTEMBER

Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year.

He had long come to terms with the fact he was in the National Hockey League. It still felt surreal but the reality had long sunk in since the day he was drafted. This was his goal. This was his dream. And he had made it. 

And he knew it would be different from hockey in any other league he had played. He knew it would be faster, harder, more demanding than college hockey. He knew that he would be pushing his body to levels he had never experienced. He knew he was mentally going to go through some of the toughest months of his life as he settled into the big leagues. He knew he was taking the sport he loved to a whole new level and he was prepared for that. 

He was prepared for his rookie year. 

He wasn’t prepared to fall in love with you. 

More than that, he wasn’t prepared to fall in love and not fucking realise it. Especially when you were his fucking roommate. 

Though, when he thought about it, the signs from the universe directing you onto his life path was there long before his first game as a New Jersey Devil. 

“Have you signed for a place yet?” Luke had asked him during the summer, somewhere in the days between wakeboarding and sunbathing and enjoying the freedom of his last stress-free summer before he entered the professional league. 

“I’ve got a few potential options but it’s fine,” Ethan had replied, dozing off on the sunlounger with his eyes closed beneath his sunglasses. “I’ve got time before training camp starts. There’s no rush.” 

And honestly? It was his own stupid ignorance that led to the karma of his current situation. 

“We do apologise, Mr Edwards, but there is nothing we can do. The building manager won’t be able to fix the problems before your move in date and we have no available lots to accommodate you until the problems are solved.”

Ethan tried to let the woman’s soothing voice calm him, but it was hard to find any peace in the words she was saying. “So, I’m homeless?”

“Once again, we do apologise for the inconvenience but the apartment is completely inhabitable.”

Because of fucking course he would find himself scrambling for last minute accommodation in Jersey, days before he was meant to meet his new team and start settling in to his rookie year. The universe couldn’t be too nice to him, not in the year he knew was going to be one of the roughest of his life. 

So, he did what any sane person would do and had a total breakdown on the phone to his mother. And then he called Luke, feeling somewhat spiteful that the boy jinxed his luck earlier that summer. The least he could do is help him out now. 

After Luke had spent the first five minutes laughing because, in his words, “who the fuck has a rat infested apartment in Jersey?”

“Can you help me or not?” Ethan sighed, fingers pressed against his temples in hopes it would ease the ache that had been lingering behind his eyes since he first picked up the phone from the estate agent that morning. 

“I mean, I’m sure Nico or one of the other guys wouldn’t mind taking you in. Jack stayed with—” Luke started but a distressed noise from Ethan cut him short.

“Yeah but Jack was, like, eighteen. I’m meant to be a fucking college graduate,” Ethan grumbled, his cheeks burning. “What impression would that set for the guys on the team?” 

Luke paused. “You’re absolutely reading far too much into this.”

Ethan scoffed. “I think my reaction is justified.”

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled under his breath before sighing. “I have a friend that was looking for a roommate, actually. You could always stay with them until your place is sorted. The apartment isn’t too far from the rink.”

“Someone on the team?”

“No, someone else.” 

Ethan blinked. “You have friends outside of hockey? Outside of me?”

“Yes, Ethan, I have other friends. You aren’t my only friend.”

“You think you know people and they stab you in the back,” Ethan sighed, far too dramatically (in Luke’s opinion).

“Look, do you want the place or not?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan quickly spoke up. “That would be perfect. Send me your friend’s number.” 

.

Now, when Luke had told Ethan that he had a friend—a non-hockey friend, at that—that was looking for a roommate, he wasn’t exactly sure what or who was expecting. He didn’t like to make assumptions on people when he knew little to nothing about them. It didn’t feel polite.

But he feels like he’s pretty fucking justified in feeling duped by the youngest Hughes brother when he finds out his new roommate isn’t a guy at all. 

In Ethan’s opinion, that feels like pretty fucking important information to reveal before he shows up at your door with his car down below packed up with bags and boxes down in the carpark. 

Because now, he looks like a fucking idiot when you open the door and he is left standing there, frozen and mouth open like a fish whilst every English word is thrown out of his head. 

“You must be Ethan,” you said eventually, because Ethan still couldn’t bring himself to speak after a painful thirty seconds. “Luke’s friend?”

“Uh yeah,” he cleared his throat, at least having the decency to look somewhat embarrassed by his reaction with blushing cheeks. “Thank you so much, by the way. You’re really doing me a huge favour.”

“Luke said you were desperate.”

Ethan wanted to disagree but he couldn’t. Not really.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he tried to laugh off, though your face remained mostly unimpressed. “So—”

“Your room is the one on the left. Your bathroom is right next door. Three cupboards have been emptied for you in the kitchen and you have the top shelves in the fridge,” you stated, so matter-of-factly that Ethan could only blink in response. “Any questions?”

“No?” 

“Great,” and with that, you wandered further into the apartment, leaving Ethan standing in the doorway dumbfounded. 

…

OCTOBER

It didn’t take long for Ethan to realise you had some walls around you, and small talk was certainly not the way to get past them.

It was a shift to the roommates he was used to, fresh out of college and having spent the better part of the last four years staying with some of his closest friends and teammates. But it wasn’t totally unwelcome on his part. It was kind of nice to have a space that wasn’t so…hockey.

And it helped that he had his own space. 

September passed in the blink of an eye and soon training camp became the real deal. It felt surreal to think he was really in the NHL now, that he was a professional hockey player, that this was his job and his livelihood now. 

But it also felt fucking great. 

The schedule of an NHL player was no joke and it was certainly not something Luke exaggerated—despite what Ethan assumed during the summer. It was intense and tiring and he didn’t have much time to think about anything else. 

Except maybe his ice cold, standoffish roommate. 

As the regular season began, Ethan had come to a few conclusions. 

.

One: you were not a morning person, especially before having any form of caffeine. That was something he learnt the hard way. 

Early morning practices were nothing new to Ethan. He wasn’t exactly an early bird, but his body had trained itself to familiarise itself with the early mornings after years and years of playing hockey. It was the norm for him, to be awake as the sun started peeking through the horizon and the rest of the world was about to wake up.

He wouldn’t call himself chipper, not really. He was just as energetic as he normally is.

You seemed to disagree. 

“Morning, stranger!” Ethan greeted you as you shuffled into the kitchen, with a boyish grin on his face and a spatula in hand.

You didn’t even glance at him as you shuffled towards the fridge. 

“Not a morning person, got it,” Ethan nodded, biting back his smile as you turned to glare at him. 

“It’s half six in the morning,” you grumbled. “Why are you so loud?” 

“My mum says it’s a part of my charm.” 

You didn’t look very amused in response. 

The following mornings seemed to fit the same routine. Even on the days he didn’t have practice or meetings, Ethan would find himself waking up early and starting his day around the same time you would be up for work. He would be chatty, you would look like you wanted to gauge his eyes out. It was oddly comforting. 

Somewhere in the middle of the second week of this fixed routine, he began to feel confident enough in watching your routine to know exactly what you needed the second you walked out your room. 

“Good morning!” 

You blinked, staring at the steaming mug he was currently offering you. It took you a few seconds to process the sight before you realised you hadn’t spoken.

“What’s this?” You questioned, a questioning look in your eyes. 

“Coffee. Made exactly the way you like it.” Ethan stayed confidently, his grin widening as you took a sip and let out an appreciative hum. 

“Thanks,” was all you said before shuffling around the kitchen to continue with the rest of his routine. 

On the days he was in Jersey, there was always a coffee cup waiting for you every morning. 

.

Two: you were always cold. Always. No matter what the temperature was outside.

In all honesty, Ethan didn’t get it at all. From what he had gathered in his conversations with you and what Luke told him, you had spent a fair chunk of your life in New Jersey so, if he was being honest, he thought you would have been somewhat used to the colder temperatures. 

But walking into the apartment after afternoon practice to find you bundled on the couch like you were in a blizzard told Ethan that assumption was far from the truth.

“Did the heating break?” was the first thing he asked when he saw you, a wave of concern washing over him as he dumped his bags at the door and made his way to the thermostat.

“No,” you murmured from somewhere in the pile of blankets. “S’just cold.”

Ethan paused, reading the thermostat before turning back to you with an amused expression on his face. “It’s kinda warm for Jersey in October today.”

There was a bit of rustling before your head popped up from amongst the blankets, your eyes narrowed in accusation. “Not all of us are professional athletes sweating their asses off for two hours.”

“In an ice rink,” he added with a grin.

Your glare hardened. 

“Do you want a hot water bottle?” 

You paused for a few moments before nodding with a sheepish expression. “Please.”

Ethan huffed out a laugh before he made his way into the kitchen, kettle filled and turned on before he went to hunt down the hot water bottle he was pretty sure his mother had packed away somewhere in his stuff when he moved away from Michigan.

He returned a few minutes later, lightly nudging the pile of blankets until your face popped up again and your eyes softened at the hot water bottle. He couldn’t help but giggle at the way you quickly snatched it from him, murmuring your thanks as it disappeared under the blankets. 

“Any time,” Ethan said, and he meant it.

.

Three: you really didn’t open up to strangers. Or roommates. Or anyone, really. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how Luke Hughes of all people managed to wiggle his way into a friendship with you, but it was an anomaly that had been wracking his brain for the last few weeks.

It was a week or so before Halloween and he was laying on the couch, his brows furrowed together as he tried to scroll through the internet for an idea of what he could wear to the Halloween party one of the boys were hosting. 

“Why do you look constipated?” 

His head snapped up, finding you standing at the end of the couch. You had two smoothies in your hand, the bag you take to your classes still on your shoulder and your shoes still on. He briefly glanced at the time, frowning a little when he realised he had been sitting there for the better part of two hours before he turned back to you.

“Trying to figure out a last minute Halloween costume,” he told you, eyebrows raised in surprise as you handed him one of the smoothies. He smiled as he took it, taking an obnoxiously loud slurp before you settled down on the other side of the couch. “I wanted to do something with Seamus and Luke but Seamus said he had his sorted and Luke said he was doing a joint costume with someone else.” 

“Oh yeah, me,” you answered casually and Ethan tried to hide his shock. 

“You’re coming?”

“Yeah?” You responded, giving him an odd look. “Luke always invites me to these things. He’s also hopeless with costumes.” 

“I didn’t realise you and Luke were so…close,” he said vaguely, his cheeks flushing a little when he realised what his words sounded like. “Not that it’s any of my business—”

“You’re right, it’s not.” You shrugged, taking a long sip from your smoothie before continuing. “But he’s one of my closest friends.” 

Ethan nodded, ignoring the way his stomach twisted at your words. “How did you two meet?” 

“The strip club.”

Ethan blanched. 

“Geez, you’re more gullible than Luke,” you commented, the hint of a smile on your lips. “You ask a lot of questions, Edwards.”

“I’m a nosy person,” he answered honestly with a shrug. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Because there isn’t much to it.” 

And, in your defence, he knew you didn’t owe him any answers. But he was curious and he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how close you and Luke were—close enough for you to willingly accept one of Luke’s friends as your roommate for an indefinite amount of time. 

And, at the crux of it, he didn’t understand how Luke was able to get through to you when he couldn’t. 

Ethan was never one to brag but he was a magnet for people. It helped him thrive in hockey, always willing to be that guy on the team that people feel like they could always talk to. It helped him thrive at university, being a social butterfly that could always make a friend in any situation. 

It usually helped. 

So yeah, maybe Ethan was a little stumped why you didn’t seem to want to be his friend, not in the way you were with Luke and some of the other guys on the team. It seemed like being your roommate added a wall he didn’t know how to break down. 

And when the Halloween party happened, it felt like seeing a whole new person when you were chatting and laughing with Luke. 

You looked more at ease as you stood next to him, happily sipping on whatever drink he had gotten for you from the kitchen. You seemed more relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you laughed at whatever joke Curtis had made at Luke’s expense. 

It fuelled a fire for Ethan, one he hadn’t realised had been started before that night. But he didn’t just want to be your roommate anymore, he didn’t like having that wall between you. 

He wanted to be your friend too. 

…

NOVEMBER

Three months into the NHL told Ethan that it was really no joke.

He was expecting the more intense training and physical playing. He was expecting his body to feel more tired, more hungry, more sore. He was expecting the ruthless journalists and vocal fans and tougher coaches. 

He wasn’t expecting the mental toll of realising that hockey was all he had in his life. 

It was stupid to complain about, considering it was his dream and all, but it was true. Hockey was his whole world right now. He woke up thinking about hockey, he went to the rink thinking about hockey, he made his dinner thinking about hockey, and then he went to sleep thinking about hockey. 

Nine times out of ten, he dreamt about hockey too.

It was different to the hockey he knew growing up, or the hockey he experienced in Michigan. Because at least in Michigan, there were classes or parties or concerts or something to take his mind off hockey. 

But it wasn’t the same in New Jersey.

There were hangouts with Luke and Seamus, or team bonding sessions organised by Nico. There were drinks at the bar after a good game to celebrate, or a particularly bad one they needed cheering up after. There were fun trips around cities he had never properly explored when they were away on roadies. 

But it was all still linked to hockey. 

And he guessed he wasn’t great at hiding his conundrum when Nico skated up beside him near the end of practice, throwing out the offer to grab a coffee and chat after they finished their debrief with the coaching staff. 

.

For what it was worth, Nico didn’t think he sounded stupid when he explained himself. If anything, the captain was quite understanding. 

“I had it when I first moved,” he had confessed as they sat in some urban coffee shop in a part of the city Ethan hadn’t properly explored before. But Nico swore up and down it had the best coffee to offer. “I was young and I was here for hockey so I thought my whole life had to be hockey.”

“What changed?” Ethan asked, hands wrapped around the big mug his latte was in like it would give him something to do, something to focus on rather than the restless itch under his skin.

“The older guys,” Nico said with a knowing smile. “The ones that learnt how to balance life and hockey. The ones with wives and families and friends outside of the team.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “You think I should go get married?” 

“Not right away,” Nico laughed, shaking his head. “But I know how easy it is to get wrapped up in the rookie year nonsense and everything. And you should be enjoying that, for sure. But there’s more to life than hockey, which is quite hard to believe right now. But it’s true, whether it’s a wife—or husband—and family or a hobby or a group of friends you can be a different Ethan with.”

Ethan nodded, a surprisingly serious expression on his face. “Hobbies?” 

“Yeah, something different to hockey,” Nico explained. “Something that doesn’t require you to give up too much time and take your focus away from hockey, but instead be a respite from everything. Like cooking!”

He blinked. “Cooking?” 

“You cook right now because you have to and you follow the diet plan the trainers give you. But you can find enjoyment in cooking because you want to,” Nico assured him, leaning back in his chair with a sure expression. “Give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

.

As it turns out, the worst that could happen is that Ethan is a fucking horrible cook. 

He tried to hold back his coughs, waving the tea towel aimlessly under the beeping fire alarm before he raced to the windows in hopes they would help get rid of the smoke. Or at least get the alarm to stop.

The one meal outside of his diet plan and he almost burned the apartment complex down trying to cook it. 

Go figure.

He had collapsed on the couch an hour later, two pizza boxes lying on the table in front of him as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone. He didn’t lift his head when he heard the front door lock turning but did freeze when he heard you cough a little. 

“Fuck, why does it smell like a shitty barbeque in here?” 

Ethan turned to you, a sheepish expression on his face as he lifted one of the pizza boxes as a peace offering. “Does pizza count as a ‘sorry for almost burning the place down’ gift?” 

You eyed the pizza box and then his face before you took the seat next to him. “Normally I would say no but you look like you had a pretty rough time, so I’ll accept it this time.”

“Geez, thanks,” Ethan snorted. 

“What were you even trying to cook anyways?” You questioned, taking a silence of margarita pizza and taking a large bite. You resisted the urge to let out a moan. “Fuck, I’m glad whatever it was. I couldn’t be bothered cooking today.” 

“Rough shift?” Ethan asked.

“Bitchy manager was on tonight,” you added with a grumble. 

“Fucking Jerry,” Ethan tsked, shaking his head. 

You turned to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“I’m delaying. There’s a difference,” Ethan corrected.

You hummed. “Okay, so why are you delaying?”

Ethan shrugged, turning his attention to the pizza box open on the coffee table in front of him. “S’stupid, no big deal. Promise.” 

You were silent for a few moments before you spoke. “Is this the point where I take the bait and beg for you to tell me why you’re upset?” 

He snorted, but it at least wrangled a smile out of him. “I’m not stressed. Just…overwhelmed.”

“With hockey?” You asked, but there was no malice or teasing in your voice. Just curiosity. 

“I know this is what I wanted but it’s just…so much. I’ve never had hockey be everything in my life, there was always something else. And now I feel like I’m drowning and no matter how much I keep kicking, I’m no closer to the surface. And the older guys seem so put together and I was trying to take their advice but it isn’t really working out and—” Ethan paused, his cheeks flushing a light pink colour when he realised he had begun rambling. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” you replied and he was almost shocked to see the sincerity on your face. “It’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed. It’s a big jump. It would be weirder if you weren’t more stressed.” 

He swallowed. “Really?” 

“Yeah, I mean,” you began, the pizza forgotten on the coffee table as you turned your body on the couch until you were facing him. “Your life will never be normal again. You’ve been shoved into the spotlight and you will continue to be there forever. That’s overwhelming as fuck. And you’re trying to catch up with a bunch of guys who have been here for years, who have had seasons to figure out who they are and who they want to be. It was always going to be an uphill battle.” 

Something in his chest warmed at your understanding. 

“Guess I have a lot to look forward to then, huh?” He tried joking because it felt easier than trying to say the words that were getting stuck in the back of his throat.

“I get it,” you explained with a small nod. “Not at the same level, but I get it. Every day I wake up and I know I’m working towards the thing I want to do for the rest of my life but, fuck, some days are just harder than others. I feel like I’m sacrificing so much of my ‘best years’ doing this and sometimes I just…wonder if it’s worth it.”

“That’s intense,” Ethan murmured with his lips turned downwards.

You gave him a sad smile. “Life can be overwhelming in a lot of ways. It’s just about finding things that help us…destress, I guess.”

“Which is hard to do when you’re a rookie in the NHL who doesn’t know who the fuck he is anymore or a student spending every free moment working her ass off in a shitty job with a shitty manager to pay for college,” Ethan added with a sorrowful smile of his own. 

“Bingo,” you snorted.

“So,” Ethan sighed as he settled back against the couch. “What’s our game plan?” 

You raised your brows. “Game plan?” 

“Yeah, what are we gonna do to destress? We can help each other,” Ethan stated like it was obvious. “Like a ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ situation.” 

You shot him a look. “I’m not scratching your back.” 

Ethan tilted his head, a grin on his lips. “So I’m assuming massages are off the table too?” 

His laugh echoed through the apartment as you threw a pillow at his face. 

. 

If Ethan was being completely honest, he didn’t think finding a destressing hobby would be so…stressful.

He had tried asking a few other guys on the team for inspiration and advice. It hadn’t been as successful as he had hoped. Though, at least he knew a handful of weird facts about the boys he played with, so it wasn’t completely useless. Team bonding and all that jazz. 

But the hobby-searching was starting to reach a point where he thought about it more than hockey. 

He couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with him. So many of the guys on the team had shared the hobbies they had outside of hockey to help relax. He even spoke to some of the UMich boys that had joined the NHL before him for some advice too. But nothing really clicked, nothing shut his brain off. 

Golfing was too time-consuming to enjoy during the regular season. The mediocre attempt at knitting resulted in a massive knotted ball of yarn being chucked into the bin. He tried reading but got bored after the first few chapters. And it felt a bit pathetic and mind-numbing (the bad kind) when he found himself watching the third episode in a row of some trashy reality TV show that had been playing. 

Nothing was giving him that relief and that step away from the busy, hectic schedule an NHL player brought. 

“You got a new potential hobby for us?” 

Ethan lifted his head to see you closing the front door behind you, bundled in about five layers of clothing you were slowly deshedding before you made your way over to him. He watched as your eyes went to the mess on the coffee table, your lips pressed together to hold back your laugh. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned, tilting your head like it would help you figure out the little project he had been working on since you left for your class a few hours ago.

“It’s meant to be a model plane,” Ethan sighed, a tad too dramatic before he turned to you with a pout on his face. “Johnny said it was easy. He used to do them when he was, like, ten years old. I think he is lying to me.” 

You snorted. “Or maybe he followed the instructions.” 

Ethan frowned. “There’s instructions?” 

You shook your head, trying to hold back your laughs as you settled on the couch beside him. There was a hint of deja vu to that day a few weeks ago—the day Ethan likes to believe the start of your buddying friendship began.

“You’ll find something,” you reassured him, nudging his shoulder with your own. 

“I think some of the guys are just messing with me with some of the hobbies they suggest,” Ethan confessed. “Curtis does not seem like a knitter at all.” 

You laughed. “Yeah no, he was definitely messing with you.” 

“Knew it,” Ethan grumbled before shrugging. “Seamus thinks I’m just being dramatic.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” you retorted. 

He shot you a look but you didn’t seem too bothered by his glare. 

“He thinks I just need to get laid,” Ethan murmured, his eyes settling back on the lump on the coffee table that was supposed to resemble a plane. 

“So why don’t you?” 

Ethan blinked as he turned back to you. “Why don’t I, what?” 

“Why don’t you just go get laid?” You asked, turning your body slightly so you were properly facing him. “Are you a virgin?”

Ethan startled. “What? No. No, I’m not a virgin.” 

 “Then I can’t imagine it would be too difficult for you to find someone.” 

“Thanks?” Ethan frowned a little before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, s’just a little much right now. I don’t really wanna go and sleep with anyone. And I’m a little too busy to properly start something with someone, you know? It wouldn’t be fair on them if I was…flaky.” 

“What if we slept together?” 

Ethan let out a choked noise of surprise. 

You gave him an odd look. “What?”

“Us? Sleep together? Like sex?” Ethan blurted out, his voice a little more high pitched than usual. 

“Well, I don’t mean just having a sleepover,” you answered with a shrug.

His brows furrowed together. “Would it not be…weird?” 

“No, why would it be?” You retorted, sounding so sure of yourself. “I’m busy, you’re busy. I guess you’re attractive and if you find me attractive too, I don’t see what the issue is. It’s convenient for us both.” 

His eyes narrowed. “You guess I’m attractive?” 

“This is not the time for your ego,” you huffed, though he could see your lips twitching upwards.

“No no, this is the perfect time for my ego,” Ethan started, his back straightening as he sat up in his seat.

“Are you in or not?”

His eyes dropped down to your lips for a few moments before returning to your eyes. “Y-Yeah, I’m in.” 

…

DECEMBER

As it would turn out, it was far from weird. It was actually pretty fucking great. 

The awkward tension Ethan expected to rise from the first time you two slept together didn’t actually happen. The next day, everything was back to normal and, if it weren’t for the hickeys dotted over his torso, he would have assumed he dreamt the whole thing up. 

It was surprisingly refreshing. The buddying friendship between you and Ethan continued to grow as the days passed, just like he wanted, there was just also the added bonus that sometimes the two of you fucked to let off some steam.

And as much as it pained him to say, Seamus was right. He just needed to get laid. He just needed to go back to something he knew he would always be good at, that didn’t take up too much space in his brain and felt as natural as breathing to him. 

He just needed to feel someone else’s body pressed up against him, whispered moans of his name doing more to help shut up that voice in the back of his head far better than the crowds of fans screaming and chanting his name. 

He was really missing out for all these with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing.

“Ethan.” 

“Hm?”

“We can’t.”

“I think we can,” he murmured against your neck, his smile pressed against your skin as he placed a line of chaste kisses just below your jaw. 

Your eyes fluttered close as his large hand splayed against your stomach, fingers brushing over your heated skin as he settled on the bed behind you. “You’re gonna miss your bus,” you managed to mutter out, a little breathless as you felt him rolling his hips against your ass.

“They won’t leave without me,” he assured you as he tugged you further back into him. Your panties had been kicked off somewhere under the sheets, not that either of you cared enough to give it a second thought. It just made it easier for Ethan to slip his hand between your legs, to listen to the choked noise of surprise you let out when his finger pressed on your clit. 

“That’s not how it works,” you murmured, letting out a whine when he stilled his hand between your legs, focusing on marking the spot at the base of your neck that made your arch against him. “You’re gonna miss the bus and the team will be annoyed and you’re gonna—”

“Shhhh,” Ethan mumbled against your skin. “Too much talking.” 

“Ethan.”

He let out a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder where he pressed a soft kiss there before lifting his head to shoot you a look. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured with a snort. “It’s a seven day roadie. You’ll survive.” 

“Maybe I’m really stressed about it,” he shot back. “Maybe a quickie before I leave would help me destress.” 

You shook your head in amusement. “You’d be a lot less stressed if you weren’t thirty minutes late already.” 

Ethan’s head snapped over to the clock on your bedside table. “Shit.”

“Told you so!” You called out as he scrambled his way towards the bathroom for the quickest shower of his life. 

“Shut up!” 

.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?” Ethan questioned, leaning down to lace up his skates with the efficiency of a man who had spent the better part of his life in ice skates. He didn’t notice the shit-eating grin on Luke’s face until he sat back up and found the boy staring at him. “What?”

“Well, either the rats from your old apartment have found your new place and decided to take revenge or there’s a different reason for the marks on your back,” Luke retorted with a knowing glint in his eyes. 

“Marks are an understatement,” Seamus snorted, sitting on the stall on the other side of Ethan. He didn’t know what he did to deserve being stuck between the two of them. “Your back is mauled, dude. Who did you sleep with, a werewolf?” 

“No,” Ethan scoffed, his cheeks burning red. “Don’t be jealous you can’t get the same reaction out of a girl.” 

“So there’s a girl?” Luke chimed in, like the little nosey shit he was. 

“Maybe,” Ethan answered vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just a casual thing. Nothing serious.” 

“Glad you finally took my advice,” Seamus grinned. 

Ethan rolled his eyes. 

“What’s her name?” Luke asked. 

To be fair, you and Ethan never discussed the logistics of your situation beyond the actual sex part. He enjoyed the little bubble the two of you shared in your apartment. It was like the two of you forgot there were other people, that the signs would be there for people to pick up on. And he wasn’t exactly sure if it was something you would want people to know, even Luke. 

He tried to bargain with himself that it wasn’t serious so there was no need for Luke or the other boys to know. You two were just scratching an itch for each other, that’s it. You were still friends at the end of the day, he didn’t want to ruin that because other people thought there was something more serious.

Ethan shrugged. “Uh, you don’t know her.”

Luke cocked an eyebrow. “So surely it doesn’t matter if we know her name or not.” 

“It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything,” Ethan retorted, squirming a little under Luke’s gaze. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Coach wants us out in five minutes.” 

“Subtlety is not your forte, Edwards,” Luke snorted in response. 

. 

The roadie ends up being a complete shit show.

Three games and they lost every single one of them. Three games and the loss just got worse with each game, with the final game being an embarrassing 5-1 loss. And all the boys were upset and annoyed about the results, but Ethan felt like he was going to lose his mind. 

His suit felt uncomfortable and itchy against his body, like some foreign layer he desperately wanted to shed. His skin felt taut and stretched across his bones, the urge to claw at his skin so overwhelming that he forced himself to focus on picking the skin around his nails instead because it was less likely to get him odd looks from the other boys. 

He had ignored Luke and Seamus’ attempts at pep-talks in the locker room, both boys seeming determined to try and reassure him the loss was not his fault—like it would stop the fumbled plays playing on a loop in his head. He watched Nico climb onto the bus, eyeing the empty seat next to him but he wasn’t in the mood to be babysat by his captain. He put his bag on the chair next to him and put his headphones on, pretending he couldn’t feel everyone’s eyes on him.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when they finally arrived back in New Jersey, but he didn’t care to know. He didn’t give anyone a chance to pull him back for a chat. He grabbed his bags and bolted to his car, wanting nothing more than to get out of his suit and just mope in his bed until practice in a few days. 

Ethan wasn’t expecting for you to still be awake.

He jumped when he spotted you on the couch, the TV still on but on mute as it played some random sitcom he couldn’t quite remember the name of. His eyes wandered over your figure, huddled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket covering your legs and a Devils branded hoodie he didn’t quite know whether it was one of your own or one of his. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. 

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” you spoke up, breaking the weird, tense silence that seemed to be suffocating the apartment since he walked in. 

“We left just after the game,” he replied, his voice a little raspy considering it was the first time he had spoken since the end of the game. “Boys wanted to get home.” 

You nodded. “M’glad you’re back. The place is pretty quiet without you.” 

It was lighthearted. It was an opening for him to plaster on a smile and pretend he was okay. It was a chance for him to escape the same awkward conversations he avoided from his teammates. 

But he was tired—the bone deep kind—and he didn’t have it in himself to keep pretending. Not in front of you. 

“I’m not sure I’m feeling very talkative right now,” he admitted, swallowing back the acidic taste in his mouth, the one that had been lingering since he stepped on the bus with all his disappointed teammates. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you reassured him as you patted the spot on the couch beside you. “We can just sit in absolute silence if you want.” 

“I’m not sure I want that either,” he confessed as his body slumped against the couch, melting into the fabric as he tried to ignore the constant buzzing voices in his head. “Just wanna forget the last week, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you hummed in agreement. “The refs were biassed dicks anyways. It wasn’t fair.” 

He turned his head to look at you, his surprise clearly expressed on his face. “You watched?” 

“I did,” you gave him a soft smile. “It wasn’t a pretty sight. I’m surprised the neighbours didn’t make a noise complaint against me when they put Luke in the box.” 

And despite himself, he couldn’t help but snort. “They had it out for him and Jack.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Dicks.” 

His lips twitched upwards. “Dicks indeed.” 

Ethan let his head fall back against the back of the couch, let the exhaustion settle in as his eyes fluttered shut and, for the first time in the last week, let himself have some semblance of relaxation even if his brain was still on overdrive.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” you started and his body instantly tensed up at your words. And maybe you would feel his body lock up, considering his thigh was pressed against yours and the couch wasn’t all that big either. “But I am here if you want to talk. Have someone who’s not on the team to listen to you.” 

He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. “Just feel like I let them down.” 

“You didn’t,” your voice soft but sincere. “And I bet the boys would agree.” 

“I just…” he let out a sigh, keeping his eyes closed because it somehow made the next few sentences easier to say out loud. “I know no one likes losing. I would be a pretty bad professional athlete if I liked losing. But, I don’t know, it just…sucks more now.” 

“Because the stakes are higher?”

“Because there’s more people seeing my mistakes,” he murmured, his words short and sharp. “This is all unreal. Being able to live out my dream and play in the NHL. But every time I make a mistake, I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I’m waiting for someone to tell me it’s all a joke or I have been moved down or I get dropped and that’s the end of my career.” 

There was a short pause. 

“I’m scared it’s all gonna be for nothing.” 

He wasn’t sure what response he expected. Truthfully, he had no intentions of ever telling you any of this. Or anyone for that matter. He had no intentions of ever saying the words out loud, letting them fester and swirl around in the back of his mind when he was left with his thoughts alone for too long. 

And yet, he had just blurted them out to you. 

Maybe he was more tired than he realised. 

“Why did you keep playing hockey?” 

Ethan frowned a little, his eyes blinking back open as he turned to look at you again. “What?” 

“Why did you keep playing hockey?” You asked again, something swirling in your eyes but he couldn’t quite work out what. “It’s one thing to be a fan. You’re Canadian so I guess you kinda have to be. And I assume your parents put you into lessons. But why did you keep up with it? Why did you keep playing?” 

“Because I love the sport,” he answered without any hesitation.

“Exactly, you love the sport,” you repeated with a soft smile on your lips. “It’s why you stayed. It’s why you play the next game even if you lost the last one. It’s why it’s your dream, why you kept working towards the NHL. And even after the shit show of the roadie, it’s why you will go out and play the next game.” 

Ethan stayed silent but he didn’t move his eyes away from yours. 

“It’s normal to have doubts. It’s normal to second guess yourself and assume the worst and let yourself spiral,” you continued. “It’s your rookie year. It isn’t easy for anyone. It wasn’t easy for Luke, for Seamus, for any of the boys. But you love the sport and the sport loved you back. Even on the bad days.” 

“That was poetic,” he murmured, his voice a little raspy and thick with emotion. 

“I was great at English in school,” you retorted with a grin. “You’re allowed to feel scared. And you’re allowed to be upset after you lose. But you’re a part of the team, nobody is putting the loss on your shoulders and you shouldn’t either. It’s your weight to bear together.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Did Nico message you?” 

You snorted, and something about the sound made his chest tighten. In a good way, though. 

“No, but considering how fast you got here, I would be wary that he will probably show up tomorrow morning to take you for a coffee check up,” you murmured. “Or he will corner you in the locker room.” 

Ethan nodded. “Thank you. For listening and stuff.” 

You flashed him a smile as you nudged his shoulder with your own. “That’s what friends are for.”

It was almost ironic that Ethan had spent the last few months working towards the title of your friend, only to feel almost disappointed when you said it. 

. 

Nico had been the one to organise the New Years Party.

All the boys from the team were there. There were other Devils employees from the marketing, media and training teams. There were friends and friends-of-friends. There were people he had never met before. 

But it was a party and the buzz of the new year was humming through them all, and somewhere amongst it all, someone had suggested a game of truth or dare.

Ethan thinks it was Curtis, who was just drunk and nosy and a bit bored.

“Right, Baby Hughes, you gotta pick!”

Luke let out a groan, slumping into the person next to him—a chuckling John Marino who seemed amused by the glint in Curtis’ eyes—before nodding. “I feel targeted.”

Curtis grinned. “Never.”

“You’ve asked me every single time,” Luke grumbled under his breath, cheeks tinted pink and warm. “Surely this is against the rules. Right, Cap?”

Nico raised his hands in surrender. “Do not drag me into this!” 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “So much for looking out for your boys.”

“Pick someone else before he starts getting whiny,” Jack called out, grinning widely as he dodged Luke’s elbow to his side. “I don’t wanna hear him bitching on the way back home.” 

“Fine, fine,” Curtis snorted, eyes scanning over the busy room before his eyes paused on Ethan. “Alright, Edwards, rookie’s turn. Truth or dare.” 

Ethan straightened a little, something determined in his eyes. “Truth,” he answered with a grin. “I’ve been warned of your dares.” 

“Smart,” Jesper coughed under his breath. 

“Truth, he says,” Curtis mused as he sat back in his seat, contemplative and cunning before he spoke again. 

“Play nice,” Nico teased.

“Cap’s orders,” Curtis hummed before he spoke. “Alright then, rookie, fess up. Which teammate is your least favourite? Name and shame.” 

Ethan blinked. “This feels like a trap.” 

“Oh, it certainly is,” Ondrej snorted.

“Don’t take him seriously,” Luke spoke up, leaning his head back to catch Ethan’s gaze. “He did the same to me and Simon. And Seamus last year. It’s his thing.” 

Ethan raised his brows. “Is there a right answer?” 

“Hey, no cheating!” Curtis called out. 

“Maybe my answer is you,” Ethan called back teasingly. 

“Oh, pretty boy has some fire,” the older man laughed, happily and drunkenly but it seemed enough to satisfy him before Nico was rounding everyone around for the midnight countdown.

The funny thing was that Ethan always knew that hockey was a team sport and every team he had ever played on—from the peewee team he played on as a kid to the boys he played with in UMich—every single one of them felt like a family, a place where he belonged and a team he loved both on and off ice. 

The Devils had been another one of those teams—his newest family. It had been terrifying, a lingering thought in the back of his head since he had been drafted. Every team he played for before were teams he would move on from, stepping stones in his dreams. But the NHL was at the top and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He didn’t want to feel left out from his new family. 

The Devils family had welcomed him with open arms. 

He truly couldn’t complain. He felt a connection with these boys on and off the ice, he felt like the newest member in this patchwork family that was really cared for. Even now, as the seconds ticked down to midnight, there was warmth and camaraderie in the air as they welcomed the new year. 

And yet, it was the most devastating loneliness he had ever felt in his life.

Because the clock struck twelve and the cheers echoed through the house and yet, his eyes were searching in the crowd of people. Searching for the one person he wanted by his side. Searching for the first person he has ever had the urge to kiss into the new year. 

Because Ethan Edwards spent breaking in the new year wishing he was beside you. 

…

JANUARY

New Years opened his eyes in ways that he hadn’t really considered before.

Unfortunately, eye opening nights are a bit difficult to focus on when you’re a professional athlete in the NHL hitting January in your rookie year. Because they were only half way through the regular season in one of the most physically and mentally intense years of his life, and he was a bit too fucking tired to have emotional epiphanies.

Which was fine if it weren’t for the fact he was currently in the middle of drills and his brain was definitely not focused on hockey. 

“Edwards!” 

Ethan blinked, his body moving before his brain could properly catch up. He had never been more grateful for the military-routine of drills he had been doing for as long as he had been skating. 

His muscles were screaming by the time the boys were starting to head back into the locker room, laughing and shoving each other and discussing strategies for the game against the Sabres the following day. But he lingered behind, stick twisting in his hand as he tapped a few pucks closer to the net. 

He had tried not to stare at the person lingering on the ice behind him, watching him, observing him.

He managed five shots before the person spoke up. 

“You should lower your right hand a little,” Jack called out, lingering at the blue line. “It will help with the shot.” 

His next shot hit the back corner perfectly. 

Ethan straightened his back, nodding a little before glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime,” Jack responded, taking it as his cue to skate closer towards him. “You good? You should be getting some rest before the game tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, just…wanted some extra practice on my shots,” Ethan said, shrugging his shoulders. “It needs some work.” 

Jack nodded. “You’re having a good year.”

“Could be better,” Ethan retorted before he could stop himself. It was meant to be lighthearted, playful even. Instead, it came out a little self-deprecating and he winced at himself.

“It gets better,” Jack assured him, his expression a little softer. “The rookie year is always the worst, the media attention and expectations and everything. But it gets better when you find yourself, find your footing.” 

“I know,” he murmured because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Nobody really talked about Jack’s rookie year. Not in much detail, not beyond a few comments here and there he had heard over the years in the lakehouse. 

He was more than grateful that his own rookie year wasn’t anything like Jack’s. 

“Enjoy it,” Jack continued, a kind expression on his face. It wasn’t hard to work out why Jack was given the ‘A’ on his jersey. “I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t let the critics get to you too much. They just wanna put pressure on you, make you squirm.” 

And oh. 

Because now Ethan was standing there, staring back at Jack like a hopeless idiot, realising he and the rest of the boys probably assumed his mood had been related to hockey. To the articles written about him. To the most likely and very reasonable explanation. 

Not the fact Ethan was pretty sure he liked his friends-with-benefits roommate in a not very friends-with-benefits way. 

His cheeks burned at the realisation. 

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded helplessly, hoping his smile didn’t look as strained as it felt. “No, you’re right. I…I’ll try to really enjoy it. Not get in my own head too much.” 

“Good,” Jack smiled back at him, all sweet and genuine and making him feel like a bit of a dick. “I’m here if you ever need a chat, you know? And I’m better at giving advice than Luke.” 

Ethan snorted. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

. 

The issue was that despite his eye-opening realisation, Ethan Edwards quickly realised he was a bit of a coward when it came to expressing his feelings. 

Or, for that matter, confronting them.

It was odd for Ethan, if he was being completely honest with himself. Because he was usually good with these kinds of things. He knew when it was a ‘no strings attached’ situation, when to remove himself from any feelings that would compliment the matter. And he knew when it was serious, when the feelings were reciprocated, when there was something more than physical between him and the other person. 

But that awareness was thrown out the window when it came to you. 

It was like he had a little voice in his head, desperately trying to yell out how he felt about you until Ethan reached his breaking point and did something he couldn’t take back. 

So, he did what any reasonable person did and locked that little voice away, pushed it to the back of his mind where it couldn’t bother him. And then he continued living his life like he couldn’t hear the rattling box in the background of every waking moment. 

It was easy with hockey. Despite his little blip at the start of the month, he managed to prevent the annoying voice affecting his game on the ice. He stayed focused and concentrated and attentive. He managed to complete his drills and find the passes and shoot some goals so none of his teammates would catch on to his lacking grasp on his feelings. 

But at home? With you? He clearly wasn’t coping as well as he thought he was. 

“Are you okay?” 

Ethan paused, body frozen as his brain wracked through a million different thoughts before he turned to look where you were sitting on the couch. 

“Uh yeah,” he managed to blurt out, a slightly strained laugh following. “Why?” 

“You’ve just seemed off the last few weeks,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like, tense and stuff.” 

“S’just hockey stuff,” Ethan murmured with a stiff smile, the lie tasting bitter and acidic on his tongue. “The boys have just been talking about how playoffs are sneaking up on us and I just…guess I’ve been a little in my own head about it.” 

You nodded in understanding. “You need days to chill out, you know? Take your mind off hockey.” 

Ethan raised his brows. “You got any suggestions, sweetheart?” 

“Actually,” you retorted with a knowing smile. “I do. I know exactly what you need to get out of your head.” 

. 

“You know, when you crawled onto my lap, I was expecting a very different outcome,” Ethan murmured, struggling not to move his lips too much as he focused on the concentrating expression on your face. 

“Need to get your head out of the gutter, Edwards,” you teased, biting back your smile as you continued to sweep the brush across his face, careful to avoid his eyebrows while you were at it. “Facemasks are soothing and relaxing. Plus, your skin probably needs it after all the travelling you do.” 

“Excuse you,” his nose scrunched. “I have a skincare routine.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah, Luke told me that you ripped into Seamus after he used your fancy moisturiser.” 

“It’s expensive,” he murmured in defence before the rest of your words caught up on him. “You talk about me to Luke?” 

“Mostly to bitch,” you said with a lighthearted, teasing smile.

Yet, something in his chest tightened at the idea regardless.

“As long as you’re talking about me,” he shot back, something victorious washing over him at the way you laughed. 

You leaned back a little, still sat on his lap with his hands on your waist to keep you balanced. You snorted at the mask covering his face before grinning. “Now, we have to keep these on for twenty minutes. And try not to move your face too much.” 

Ethan ignored your words, pouting in response. “So if I asked you to make out—”

“I would tell you to fat chance,” you finished with a grin. “But I’ll admit the pink headband is really working for you.” 

Ethan wiggled his eyebrows, once against ignoring the pointed look you shot him. “Enough for a kiss?” 

“Enough for an episode of Pretty Little Liars,” you shot back at him, your smile widening at the sound of his groan but it still didn’t stop him from tugging you close before you could sit on the other side of the couch. “Or at least finish the one we started last night before—”

“I rocked your world?” 

“Started drooling on my shoulder,” you corrected.

“That was after I made you come twice,” Ethan piped up, lightly pinching your side until you squirmed further onto his lap. “They cancel each other out.” 

“Whatever you say, princess,” you snorted, eyes gleaming as you pressed play on the remote before he could come up with a witty comeback. 

And, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a distant voice screaming at him to say something. Telling him this was the perfect opportunity to say something to you. To just admit how he was feeling and end the pathetic pining he had been experiencing for the last few weeks. 

But the mere idea of losing this—losing you—kept his mouth shut as he finally turned his attention to the tv and pretended like his stomach didn’t twist at his own cowardice. 

…

FEBRUARY

Before he knew it, they were hitting February and all the buzz in the hockey world was around All Stars.

Ethan hadn’t been too concerned about it or the discussions leading up to the reveal on which team members would be heading out for the event. His mind had been preoccupied on the season, on playoffs approaching, on you. In all honesty, All Stars hadn’t even crossed his mind until the team was being rounded up into the locker room for the announcement. 

It was not too much of a surprise that Luke had been selected for the Devils (most people expected it to be one of the Hughes brothers). 

However, it was a shock to hear his own name follow. 

“Looks like the fans want to see more of the pretty boy,” Curtis called out, joking and teasing and, yet, it still made his cheeks burn as the boys all slapped him on the back. 

“Baby’s first All Stars,” Timo cooed jokingly, reaching out to pinch his cheek but Ethan was quick to slap his hand away. 

“It’s Luke’s first too,” he defended weakly, a smile on his lips as he spoke.

“At least he is losing one of his virginities,” Seamus coughed under his breath, letting out a high-pitched yelp when the younger Hughes reached to smack him across the back of his head. 

“I hope you get a horrible sunburn in Mexico,” Luke retorted with a deadpan expression. 

Seamus snorted. “Don’t get bitchy because your ticket is non-refundable.” 

Luke reached out to slap him again but he had already run off towards the showers, laughing and shoving some of the other boys into Luke’s path to help with his escape. 

Ethan shook his head in amusement. 

“Enjoy it,” another voice spoke up and he turned to find Nico standing beside his stall, a kind and genuine smile on his face as he patted his shoulder. “It’s fun. Promise.” 

“More fun than chilling on a beach somewhere?” Ethan retorted with a knowing smile.

“It’s up there,” Nico grinned. 

“But if Michael Buble offers you anything, say no,” Jack spoke up from the other side of the locker room. “Trust me.” 

.

“How does it feel to be with all the big boys?” 

“You saying I’m not a big boy?” 

“You know exactly what I meant, perv.” 

It was true. Ethan knew exactly what you meant. But he could almost imagine the way you rolled your eyes when you spoke, your nose scrunched up and your eyebrows furrowed and it sent a pang of something aching through him. 

It was almost too pathetic to comprehend. 

All Stars was insane. Truly, absolutely, positively insane. It was one thing to watch it from the comfort of his own couch. It was a whole other thing to be a part of it. And he knew he shouldn’t be starstruck, not really. He had spent the better part of the last few months playing against some of these guys. 

But being in a not-as-competitive setting with the likes of Sidney Crosby and Nathan MacKinnon was a surreal experience he hadn’t fully wrapped his head around since he arrived.

And yet, here he was, all smiley and giddy and excited over the fact you had called him. The fact that you missed him enough, that you were thinking about him enough to call him whilst he was away. 

“I stand by my question,” Ethan replied, shuffling further back into the plush pillows of his hotel bed as he held his phone to his ear. “Do you not think I’m a big boy?”

“I’m not going to talk up your dick size for the sake of your ego, Edwards.” 

Ethan snorted despite himself. “Worth a shot. Could have made it really hot.” 

“I refuse to have phone sex with you when Luke is probably in the room.” 

“He’s not here,” Ethan said quickly, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Well, he’s gone out to grab us some snacks from the store around the corner but—”

“Exactly.” His stomach dipped a little as your laugh echoed through the phone. “Now, tell me everything.” 

For a moment he wondered if it would be worth trying to facetime you to see your face or if that was pushing it too far. 

“What do you want to know?” He retorted, his eyes closing shut as he tried to imagine the expression on your face as you thought. 

“I don’t know! The important stuff! Like if Sidney Crosby is as hot in real life?” 

Ethan blinked. “That’s your big question? If he’s as hot as he is on screen?” 

Your reply came with no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Wow, so we can’t talk about my dick, which has been inside of you by the way, but we can talk about whether or not Sidney Crosby is hot.” There was a pause before he sighed. “Yeah, he is. Maybe even hotter.” 

“I fucking knew it.”

“So you don’t even miss me? Not even a little bit?” Ethan questioned, trying to sound playful and lighthearted, hoping the small slivers of insecurity weren’t being translated through the phone.

“Don’t start pouting on me, Edwards. Of course I miss you.” Your voice was softer, more sincere. Or at least he was deluding himself into thinking as much. “Found a show for us to watch when you’re back. It looked good but I didn’t want to start it alone.” 

It was embarrassing how big his smile was. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you hummed before gasping. “Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you. You won’t believe what happened at work the other night.” 

Ethan huffed. “Don’t tell me it was—” 

“Yup! And you’ll never guess what she did—” 

It hit Ethan in the chest when he was lying on the foreign bed in a non-descriptive hotel room, phone pressed against his ear as you rambled away. It hit him just how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed you. That it was beyond the physical attraction, that it was much deeper than a silly little crush. 

It hit him how much he wanted this forever.  

But he knew better to do it on the phone. He knew it had to be said face-to-face. He knew he needed you in front of him when he uttered the words. He knew he needed to be looking in your eyes when he blurted his feelings out. 

So, he promised himself. 

He promised himself he would do it when he headed back to New Jersey. He promised himself he would do it when he saw you. He promised himself he was just going to deal with it head on and not run away like he had been doing for the last month or two. 

He promised he was not going to be a coward anymore. 

.

It was embarrassing how quickly he threw his own promise out of the window. 

Ethan was fucking exhausted by the time their plane laned back in New Jersey. It was barely even eight in the evening and he was ready to slump face first onto his bed and not get up for a few days—even if he knew they had practice the following afternoon. 

But it was the principle of it all. 

It was the mere exhaustion of it all. 

And you took one look at him before you opened your arms, inviting him to join you on the couch. Ethan couldn’t even bring himself to feel too bad about the groan you let out as he slumped himself on top of you.

“Make sure they had good music at my funeral,” he grumbled, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.

You hummed, your hands moving on instinct to run your fingers through his hair. “How do you feel about Barbie Girl?”

“Love it,” he murmured, a soft groan leaving his lips as your nails scratched along his scalp. “Missed you.” 

“I missed you too, Edwards,” you whispered, soft and almost breathless. He wondered for a moment if he was leaning too heavily on your chest and winding you. “I never knew you talked in your sleep.” 

Ethan froze. 

“Luke sent me some interesting videos,” you continued and he could almost hear the smile in your voice. “You should really watch who you have sleepovers with.” 

Ethan clenched his eyes shut, trying to nuzzle himself further into your neck. “M’gonna kill him.” 

“It was just one video,” you assured him, lightly tugging his hair until he lifted his head to look at you. “Cute that you were so jealous over me liking Sidney that you started to sleep talking about it.” 

His cheeks heated up. “I wasn’t jealous.” 

You beamed back at him. “Uh huh, sure.” 

Ethan narrowed his eyes at you. “This is emotional blackmail.”

“Aw, don’t let me stop you from doing it again,” you teased, unable to hide your amusement as his cheeks burned redder. “Would it make you feel better if I said I was jealous you got to hang around him all week?” 

Ethan paused before he spoke. “Yes.” 

You nodded. “Then, I was deeply jealous and envious that you got to hang around Sidney Crosby, the hottest guy in the league—”

“Oh my god,” Ethan groaned as he braced his hands on either side of you, prepared to push himself off you and the couch and sulk in his room. But before he could get far, you were winding your arms and legs around him and pulling him back down. “Nuh uh, let me go. You can go cuddle with Sidney since you think he’s so hot.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you mused, choosing to be nice and not comment on the way he completely nuzzled himself back into your arms, eyes falling shut and relaxation taking over his body for the first time in a week. 

“You’re a bully,” he retorted, words muffled from the way his cheek was pressed against your shoulder. 

“You like it,” you retorted, keeping the banter going but it made Ethan’s head spin. 

Because he did. He did like it. He liked you. He liked coming back home to you and he liked lying on the couch with you. He liked kissing you and he liked the noises you made for him when he touched you. 

He liked you more than he cared to admit. 

He liked you too much to lose you. 

He liked what the two of you had. He liked it too much to risk losing it all over unreciprocated feelings. Feelings could change—his feelings could change. There was no need to ruin a good thing. 

He had hockey to focus on. He had the team to focus on. He had playoffs to focus on.

Now was not the time to change everything, superstitions or not. 

…

MARCH

March Madness was no joke. 

It was pure fucking chaos and no previous league or championship he had ever played for could rival just how hectic the whole thing was. The Devils were having a good season. A great fucking season if they were being honest. And they were so, so, so fucking close to clinching that playoff spot. 

But fuck if the other teams weren’t making it real fucking difficult for them. 

Ethan knew that things were going to get rougher, tougher, harder when the playoff desperation started to settle in, when the end of the regular season was on the horizon and teams were starting to get dirty to extend their season. 

He just underestimated how desperate they were willing to get. 

It was easy to see why Nico Hishcier was so beloved by the team, by the fans, by the boys. To see why he was chosen as captain because he was nothing but supportive and determined and encouraging. He wasn’t letting them get too comfortable, he was keeping the boys working towards playing their best. 

But he was also the damn proudest of them all. 

It almost made the hits against the boards worth it. 

Almost being the operative word seeing as he felt like his whole body was bruised as they came off a game against the Rangers. 

“Fuck,” Ethan hissed as he all but waddled into the locker room, helmet in hand and skateguards on. “I think I’m bruised in places I didn’t know you could be bruised.” 

Seamus snorted. “Fucking tell me about it.” 

“The hit during the second period looked rough,” Luke spoke up from the stall beside him. “You sure you’re good?” 

“Medical checked me over during the intermission,” Ethan assured him with a faint smile. “Just gonna be sore for the next few days.” 

Luke’s eyes gleamed. “No strenuous activities then?” 

Ethan rolled his eyes. 

“Oh please,” Seamus mused, giving Luke a nudge with his elbow. “He’s a pillow princess.” 

“Fuck off both of you,” Ethan snorted, already starting to peel his jersey off.

 It wasn’t until he was almost dressed where he finally grabbed his phone out of his bag, turning it back on to see a flurry of notifications to take over his screen. His brows furrowed together in surprise as he skimmed over them.

“Is that a certain roommate?” Luke asked, peeking over his shoulder like the nosy shit he was but Ethan had already chucked his phone back in his bag. 

“Nah, it’s just Patricia,” Ethan shrugged.

Luke blinked. “Who the fuck is Patricia?” 

Ethan shot him an odd look. “Patricia, the woman from the estate agency you recommended to me.” 

Luke gave him a pensive look. “Why is she blowing up your phone?” 

Ethan shrugged again. “Your guess is as good as mine.” 

. 

As it would turn out, Patricia was contacting him because the apartment he originally signed on for at the start of the year seemed to have sorted the rat infestation problem. 

She was cheery in her voicemail she left for him, like it was the best possible news Ethan could have ever received. And maybe it would have been a few months ago, back in September. Even a good few weeks into October, Ethan would have been over the fucking moon to hear his old apartment was available again. 

Yet, as he listened to the voicemail now, he couldn’t help but let a sense of dread wash over him. 

It was stupid in a way because he knew from the start his situation wasn’t permanent. He knew it was always a short-term solution to a short-term problem. He knew the arrangement between you both wouldn’t last forever—both as roommates and friends with benefits. 

There was always a timer on it, but Ethan let himself get lost in the familiarity of it all that the upcoming ending hit him like an unexpected slap in the face.

If he was a sensible and good guy, he would have called Patricia back. He would have told her he was just as happy to hear the update on the previously rat infested apartment. He would have told her he was happy to move in as soon as he can, to have his own place in New Jersey to call his home and his home alone. He would have told her to send over all the paperwork as soon as she can. 

But Ethan wasn’t sensible nor was he all that good because he never called her back. 

Instead, he chose to pretend as though he hadn’t seen the calls or the voicemails or the messages. He told himself he was focusing on clinching a playoff spot. He told himself he was just prioritising the important stuff and, for as long as he had a roof over his head, the other apartment wasn’t a priority. 

Ethan chose not to acknowledge the fact that ignoring and running away from any possible problem was becoming a bit of an odd habit for him over the last few months. 

. 

As it would turn out, people failed to warn Ethan that March Madness seemed to extend into a player’s personal life. 

He couldn’t quite work out the exact moment everything changed but he noticed the switch two weeks into March. And he was fucking baffled. And almost embarrassed that it took him so long to catch on to your sudden cold behaviour.

If you were giving him the cold shoulder, Ethan would have assumed he had done something to piss you off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before, the two of you had your fair share of petty roommate disagreements over the months where one of you would give the other silent treatment. But it never lasted more than an hour or so before you sat down and talked it out. 

Ethan would have preferred if he was just given the silent treatment from you.

Instead, he got…whatever the hell you were doing now. 

For a few days, Ethan considered that he was just being dramatic. That maybe it was something at work or in one of your classes. That eventually you’d come to him with whatever was bothering you and he would listen and this weird tension between the two of you would disappear. 

He lost hope in that theory after a week.

You were talking to him, almost as normal, but there was a tinge to it. A shift. Almost like a step back. It felt like the early months as roommates, when your answers were shorter more often than not, when you treated each other as acquaintances with a mutual friend. 

It felt fucking wrong. 

And then there was the physical aspect. 

It wasn’t like the two of you were on each other at every possible moment together. It wasn’t even about the sex. It was the way you pulled away from him like his touch burned you, like it was odd for him to casually nudge your hip with his own as he walked past you in the kitchen. It was the way you seemed to avoid sitting too close to him on the couch. 

It was the way it felt like the two of you were reverting back to the awkward, polite strangers you were back in September. 

He hated it but he didn’t know how to get it back when you seemed so adamant to keep him at arm’s length. 

It was disorienting as fuck. 

It was wrong. 

It was everything he feared for. 

It was almost-definitely-possibly worse than you rejecting him. 

And Ethan felt like he was fucking spiralling with the realisation that he may have lost you and he wasn’t exactly sure how. 

.

And just when Ethan craved normalcy in his life, Luke started acting weird too. 

The youngest Hughes brother shut down any attempts to hang out outside of practice or training. He didn’t seem as talkative or chatty with Ethan the way he usually was, leaving most of their conversations to surround hockey or strategies or upcoming games.

Fuck, even Seamus was weirded out by Luke’s sudden change in behaviour. 

It didn’t take long for the other boys in the team to notice the growing tension between the two boys. Jack kept shooting his brother weird looks. Nico seemed concerned. Even Curtis looked a bit awkward and unsure at what to say. Him, Luke and Seamus had been such a trio since Ethan joined the Devils at the start of the season. 

Now it seemed like Luke tolerated him at best. 

But Ethan knew Luke. He knew the way the boy would get when he was upset. He knew the way the boy tended to shut down a bit, knew that he needed the space to be moody and brood a little (the outcome of being the youngest child) before he was ready to forgive and forget and move on. 

However, Luke Hughes seemed more than happy to carry out whatever grudge he was holding—even if it was affecting their game on the ice. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Luke didn’t even bother turning to look at him, reaching to pull his practice jersey over his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For fuck’s sake, Luke,” Ethan growled, angry and frustrated and done with whatever bitchy mood he was still in. “I was open. You saw that I was open and you fucking ignored me. What if we were in a game? What if that cost us a goal?” 

“It’s just a practice,” Luke shot back, deadpan and unamused. “Calm down.” 

“Calm down? Calm down?!” Ethan laughed, bitter and irritated. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Luke. I don’t know what your problem with me is but it’s fucking ridiculous if you’re willing to sacrifice the team for it.” 

Seamus took a step towards them. “Okay, maybe we just need—”

“No,” Ethan snapped, a buzz of adrenaline rushing through him. “No, if he has a problem with me then I want him to fucking say it instead of keeping it some secret like—some coward!” 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Luke snapped back at him. “You know all about secrets, Edwards.” 

His brows furrowed together. “Stop fucking talking in riddles, Hughes.” 

“Oh Jesus,” Seamus grumbled under his breath. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Luke hissed. 

“No, I don’t!” Ethan gritted out. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about!”

“And I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore!” Luke bit back, enough hurt and anger in his voice that it left Ethan—and the rest of the locker room—silent. “I thought you were one of my closest friends. I thought you were a good guy. Clearly you’ve changed.”

Ethan frowned. “What?”

“Okay, everyone out!” Nico clapped his hands together, snapping Luke and Ethan out of their little moment as the captain began shepherding the rest of the team out. 

“Aw, come on, it was just getting good!” Curtis whined but sighed as he followed the rest of the boys out of the locker room, all in various degrees of undress as they left Ethan and Luke alone. 

Ethan watched them all go before he turned back to Luke, a look of hurt and pure confusion on his face. 

“I helped you out,” Luke rasped, swallowing harshly. His voice was softer, a little raw too. Like the fight had left him and all that was left was disappointment. “You needed a place to stay and I convinced her to let you stay, vouched that you were a good guy, that you weren’t a fucking douche, and you had to go and fucking play her like that.” 

Ethan blinked. “What the fuck are you on about?” 

“Ethan,” Luke muttered, his name full of frustration. “I know about the two of you. I’ve known for a while, I’m not fucking stupid.” 

His heart sped up a little, despite himself. “What does our…agreement have to do with you?” 

Luke shot him a look of disbelief. “Because she’s my friend! Because you’ve strung her along for months and now you don’t even have the decency to tell her you’re leaving!” 

Ethan blinked again. “I—what?” 

“You’re moving back to your own place and you—why do you look so confused?” 

“Because I am confused!” Ethan squeaked out. 

Luke slowly blinked. “So…you’re not taking Patricia up on her offer and moving out?”

“No!” Ethan replied, still looking confused. “Why would you think I am?” 

“Because she keeps calling and emailing you!” Luke shot back.

“And I haven’t answered a single one!” Ethan retorted. 

“Huh,” Luke murmured, his mind whirling with a million different thoughts. “Well, her emails suggest otherwise.” 

Ethan tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“I—” Luke sighed, looking serious once again. “I need you to be honest with me.” 

Ethan shifted in his spot. “What?”

“Are you serious about her?” Luke questioned. 

Ethan frowned. “Who? Patricia?” 

“I—no,” Luke sighed deeply. “Unless you’ve been sleeping with Patricia this whole time—”

“What? No, no!” Ethan spluttered out. “I have—wait, does she think I’m moving out?” 

Luke looked a bit sheepish. “I think you need to go have that conversation with her.” 

“Fuck,” Ethan breathed out, something quite like nausea twisting in his stomach. “And she….I’m not….I would never play her like that. It’s literally the opposite!” 

Luke raised his brow. “The opposite?” 

“I—fuck, I need to go,” Ethan muttered to himself under his breath, not even acknowledging the other boy as he began to yank his gear off. 

“Woah, Ethan, you need to—”

“I need to fix this,” Ethan interrupted. “She can’t—I need to tell her.” 

The last thing Luke—or any of the boys—saw was Ethan rushing out of the locker room, looking frazzled and flustered and panicked. 

.

Ethan wished he could say he was calm and collected when he finally made it to your shared apartment but that would be a fucking lie. 

He was a mess when he arrived. Despite driving back, he was still breathless and panting as he forgoed the elevator, choosing to take the stairs two-at-a-time until he reached your floor. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed, his keys were the only thing in his possession as he raced towards the door. He wasn’t even sure where his phone was. Nor did he care. 

His only goal was to get to you.

It was embarrassing how badly his hands were shaking as he tried to shove the key into the lock, taking more attempts than he cared to admit before he managed to open the door. He didn’t even care about your neighbours as he began calling out your name, praying to every god he could think of that you were home.

He could have collapsed from relief when you wandered out of your room, a mixed look of concern and confusion on your face when you spotted him standing in the living room.

“Are you okay?” 

Ethan tried to find the words to answer you. He tried to wrack his brain for a response to your question, a coherent sentence to calm the clear uneasiness in your voice. And yet, all he could do was stare at you and think one single thought that was leaving his lips before he could even stop himself.

“I’m in love with you!” 

You blinked in response. 

“Like, so painfully in love with you that I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone. But it is. And I do. And I can’t keep it to myself anymore because I think I am genuinely going insane,” Ethan continued. 

Your lips parted a little in surprise, but still no words left your mouth.

“And I should probably stop talking and embarrassing myself further because you’re not saying anything and I’m usually a lot better at these kinds of things,” Ethan blurted out. “But you’ve been pulling away the last few weeks and I can’t take it anymore because it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I have to keep pretending I’m fine with everything when I’m not.” 

His body was moving before he could stop himself. He was taking steps forward, closing the small distance between you two because Ethan couldn’t stop the pull you had on him—on his body, his mind, his whole fucking world. 

“I’m in love with you. Like in a ‘I wanna come home to you every night and kiss you because we are dating’ kind of way, not a ‘we are roommates who made up this weird agreement’ way.” Ethan breathed out, his voice just above a whisper but you heard him loud and clear. “And I don’t expect you to say you feel the same way but I can’t keep it anymore and—”

He was cut off by you throwing yourself at him, arms winding around his neck and lips on his. He didn’t even care about the rest of his sentence, sinking into the kiss like a starved man eating for the first time. The relief of feeling your body pressed against his was almost as addicting as the adrenaline pumping through his veins when you let out a blissful sigh. 

“M’not moving out,” he managed to mutter out between kisses as he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you tight against him. “Whatever you think—” 

You pulled away a few inches, just enough to see his face. “Your laptop was open,” you murmured, something sheepish and guilty written across your face. “And the email came through from your estate agent about signing a new lease and I got in my own head about it. I thought you were going to leave and I wanted to protect myself from falling further and—”

“Falling further?” He repeated, a hopeful smile beginning to take over his face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your smile mirroring his. “Turns out sleeping with your roommate is a real catalyst for falling in love with him.” 

“Lucky me,” Ethan murmured before leaning back in to kiss you. “And I’m not leaving until you want me to leave.” 

“We’ve really gone through this relationship thing in a weird order, huh?” You mused, laughing a little when Ethan kept leaning in to kiss you.

“Yeah but I think it’s worked out pretty well for us,” he murmured, his nose playfully nudging yours. 

Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year. 

He wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Nobody ever was, not really. He wasn’t fully prepared to fall in love either.

But with you in his arms and the Devils only points away from clinching a playoff spot, he thought his rookie year was going far better than anything he could have prepared for. 

.

[joejhang]

fanon neil vs canon neil

god i am so FUCKING done with the aftg fandom mischaracterising neil i'm literally writing fucking ESSAYS about it and pacing circles muttering about it under my breath it's driving me up the goddamn wall so i am going to word vomit brain dump yap about all of it in an incoherent tumblr text post. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk

i've said it before and i'll say it again I HATE FANON NEIL. istg this fandom LOVES to mischaracterise neil and ykw i think i know why. they take the smallest most unnoticeable parts of his personality and then exaggerate them to disproportionate and unrealistic levels in order for him to fit their idea of a conventional, stereotypical and desirable main character. they smooth out his jagged edges and prick at his "insecurities" to make him more likeable, more acceptable and more conventional of a narrator/main character and in doing so erase so fucking much of his personality and draw as a character that he loses just about all of the flavour that made me love him in canon. and also especially within the andreil dynamic this fucking fandom just loves to tweak neil's character until he's basically unrecognisable just so they can cram andreil into some preconceived socially acceptable clichéd ship dynamic. because andrew is perceived as the typical mysterious, moody and grumpy love interest therefore neil just has to be the sunshiney smiley blushing cute softboy in exchange. yeah because all gay ships have to be grumpy-sunshine and black cat-golden retriever dynamic. i raise you: andreil's dynamic doesn't work because of their differences it works because of their similarities. if u think about it andrew and neil are honestly very similar people in the way they think and process emotions and events and that's what allows them to connect and understand each other. andreil would not work if neil was super sunshiney and a blushy soft mess and andrew was the stoic, never smiling, unemotional stone of a guy the fandom loves to make them. just accept they do not fit into the conventional boxes laid out by booktok for what gay ships look like. i fucking digress.

neil is also just insanely mischaracterised on his own. people love making him very jittery and insanely oblivious and easily flustered with a generous serving of self-esteem issues. i hate to break it to you guys: neil josten is not insecure. i don't think there's a single instant in the series where neil is actually insecure about anything. as a narrator, person and character, neil is very realistic, pragmatic and logical. ruthlessly so. i'd say on this, neil is even more cerebral and unemotional than andrew is. neil is very straightforward and realistic abt himself in his narration and i'd honestly say his opinion and views about himself are one of the only things in the story that isn't affected by his narrator bias. if neil is anything, it's self-aware. i'm now going to present all my fucking evidence.

neil doesn't have a sexuality crisis. literally in the entire series never once does he even question his fucking sexuality. it's implied he's already figured out he's aspec/demisexual from the moment nicky questions him about his sexuality. neil says "i don't swing" and follows up in his narration: it wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough. and later when he starts his relationship with andrew he doesn't ever question the nature of his feelings towards andrew or even anyone else and is pretty clear about it when andrew breaches the topic: "kissing you doesn't make me look at them any differently" so yeah neil is pretty certain and aware of his sexuality.

neil isn't insecure about his appearance. i feel like this is gonna require a bit of work to explain but hear me out. it is mentioned several times that neil has a complicated relationship with his appearance because he looks so much like his father/abuser. this is obviously understandable; you wouldn't want to look into the mirror and see the man who gave u all ur scars. that being said, neil doesn't have a lot of strong emotions regarding his appearance. most of his feelings of panic tied to when r*ko dyed back his hair is because of how it would be a lot easier for his father to discover him now that he has his original colouring back. i'm also pretty sure neil knows that he's cute. like it's never explicitly stated but i've reread aftg maybe fifty times and trust me i can read between the lines. neil explicitly says that he has a "love-hate relationship with his reflection out of necessity" and while the "hate" part of that statement is obvious: he doesn't like that he resembles his father, i've sort of just accepted that the "love" part of it is that he knows he's kinda fine. it's not brought up by him at all bc neil as a person is not one to linger on people's appearances almost at all. i think the only people to get a decent amount of lines dedicated to their appearance in the narration are allison and andrew. but yeah i genuinely don't think neil thinks he's ugly or unattractive and he's probably definitely been told how cute he is by others enough that he doesn't harbour any delusions about how he looks. regarding his scars, he never expresses any insecurity towards them and how they look, he just doesn't like them on display understandably bc of how acutely they point to his past and childhood that he's trying to hide.

neil is actually very very confident in his own and other people's abilties. this is esp regarding exy. he knows he's good at the game. like he knows. the most distinct example i can think of for this point is when kevin tells neil that he was at castle evermore to try out for the perfect court when they were younger. neil doesn't even doubt for a fucking second that he would've made it onto the perfect court. never does. he skips over the second-guessing and doubt part and just straight up starts daydreaming about the future he could've had playing with kevin and r*ko. like that really got me bc it's easy to assume neil would be super unassuming and have low self-esteem but no like neil doesn't doubt for a fucking second that he deserves to be perfect court. it's just that he doesn't believe in r*ko's delusions enough to play along with it by the time he gets the tattoo. he's also insanely confident about the foxes and their abilities and also kevin by the end of the series. at the beginning he takes a pretty realistic vantage point and says that with the way things are, the foxes will never beat the ravens. but even with that pov he still has the gall to challenge r*ko on LIVE TV and i doubt he's lying when he declares so boldly to everyone that if the foxes were united they'd be an unstoppable force (and guess what he was fucking RIGHT). and by the end, when the foxes are united, he has no more room left for doubt at all. some guy tells neil to kick the ravens' asses and neil just replies with zero hesitation "that's the plan". like he's so fucking on board with it. and he never once doubts that kevin is the best striker in the game. like literally never. at first he considers r*ko and kevin on par with each other (possibly, it's never stated outright) but by the end he literally has no doubts when he says "kevin is the best striker" like goddamn the amount of confidence neil has is so underrated.

neil is a very unemotional narrator. it actually gets me all the time how logical and ruthlessly pragmatic neil's narration and inner monologue is. some of the only strong emotions portrayed in neil's narration are anger, irritation and occasionally grief, which is only ever triggered by major trauma-inducing events (e.g. dr*ke). almost all of his inner monologue is analytical and observing others and dissecting either other people or the situation he's in. and almost all of his decisions and actions are made based on impulse and instinct. neil is a very instinctive person. this is outright stated in the way he plays exy; in theory, he can't give u a lot, but in the heat of the moment he's at his best. this applies to practically all facets of neil's life. he never plans his moves or what he's gonna say (except like that one time when he planned out what half-truth he was gonna tell andrew post-columbia). he's super quick and on the ball and literally does whatever the fuck he wants at any given moment. he's also insanely good at compartmentalising. like it's difficult to explain but while his priorities are obv hilariously skewed, they're also very clear in his mind. things he considers unimportant he simply just doesn't think about. what others look like and what they think of him don't factor into his internal monologue or his thoughts at all he literally just files them away in the back of his mind until they do end up becoming useful or important to him. he barely comments on andrew's appearance at all until andrew becomes someone worth staring at and admiring for him. the only reason he describes allison and renee in the detail that he does is because it's important in understanding how and why he reacts to them the way he does. this man was literally about to lose his goddamn mind at the fall banquet but he specifically reserved his mental breakdown for after the banquet so he could spend his time roasting the fuck out of r*ko. bro fully locked in and was like "clock riko now break down later" and i respect it.

neil doesn't actually have a martyr complex. it's funny because almost all of aftg is him being the absolute fucking opposite of a martyr. he wilfully sticks around the foxes knowing he's putting himself and them in danger. he doesn't "sacrifice" himself until he's absolutely forced to by his father's people. by then, he's already told himself he can't and won't run and he's smart enough to know he'll never get away anyway. and going to evermore wasn't about self-sacrifice or martyrdom it was about protecting andrew and those two are pretty fucking different. he knew he was coming back from evermore and he knew that he wouldn't die there, despite all the shit he went through, so i don't think that can be counted as "self-sacrifice". he was doing what he had to do to protect andrew, the same as andrew would've done for neil or aaron or kevin or anyone else he'd sworn to protect. the kidnapping in baltimore was the culmination of neil's character arc, which isn't really about learning to be selfless and self-sacrificing, it's about learning to stand his ground and stop running. those things r crucially different: neil not running in baltimore wasn't about selflessness, it was about courage. yes, part of it was obviously inspired by the foxes and motivated by not wanting them to be hurt but i truly believe it ultimately was about neil learning to stand his own ground and make his own home and have it be something he's willing to die for. call it whatever u want honestly i just don't think neil is as much of a martyr/sacrificial lamb as the fandom makes him out to be.

[kakujis]

looking glass;

synopsis: suguru's words are always so sweet, but his actions are not.

warnings: afab!fem reader, dacryphilia, subby reader, implied multiple rounds, pet names, choking, a teensy bit of manhandling, suguru is a lil mean. not proofread since i wrote this in like 2 hours lol

ft+ wc: geto suguru, around 700.

network: @enchantedforest-network!

an: i woke up today, then immediately took a nap, and then had my 4th dream about him within the past cpl of weeks and figured i'd finally just write for him T_T. be kind to me pls it's my first time writing for him! honestly this was self indulgent and i apparently can't stop writing mean charas. anywho, i hope u enjoy :>.

geto suguru has always loved seeing you cream around his cock, from the way your mouth hangs open to the twitching of your body. but the first time he pushed you a little further off the edge, where pinpricks of tears fell from your eyes, he became obsessed. but geto is always “nice”, coaxing you into another orgasm with his sweet words that drip honey into your veins. 

“suguru..” you sniffle, pawing against him, “no more.” you’re weaker than him though, your pushes against him not doing much. 

“hm?” he hums, tilting his head before swiping away at a tear trailing down your cheek. he gives you an easy-going smile that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. “we’re gonna keep going, okay? you can do it, baby.” 

you’re propped up on your elbows, legs looped around his waist as he stares down at you. maybe it’s the fogginess in your brain, but you always submit to him easily. or maybe, it’s the fact that you can’t escape anyway, pinned down to the bed underneath you. 

you nod and he leans in, grabbing the back of your head to bring you in for a kiss. his lips are soft, just like his voice, smooth and easy. geto is sweet, he’s nice, he’s kind. but the hand that shifts from your hair, fingers trailing across your jawline before settling around your neck is not. 

you whimper and gasp when he squeezes, mouth falling open just enough for him to slip his tongue in. you struggle to keep your balance, falling back onto the bed but he follows you, tongue still intertwined with yours. he also readjusts, cock deep inside your pussy. 

he pulls away only to litter wet kisses onto your teary face. “sugu-!” you try, some drool trailing from your lips, but he squeezes again, cutting you off as your hands fly up to pull at his. 

“shh,” he reassures, “it’s okay, you’re okay.” his hips start to move and you whimper again, your walls already squeezing around his cock. “you like that huh?” he smiles and you nod, unable to speak. 

he starts to thrust harder, heavy balls slapping against your skin and the grip you have on his wrist tightens. your swollen, wet lips hang open as you moan and gasp. suguru is big, so big that you always ask him to wait when he first slips in to give you time to adjust. but after multiple orgasms, you think he fits perfectly, slipping in and out of your pussy. 

“you’re so cute, y’know that?” he says, smiling down at you. “and so pretty when you’re crying and screaming on my cock.” you’re almost too hazy to notice the “screaming” part, but your eyes widen as you look up at him. he smiles brighter, before he angles himself, slamming in and making sure to go as deep as possible. you squeal and thrash, toes curling.“yep! just like that.” 

you claw at his arm, the one that’s currently trapping your throat. but he’s strong, not even budging as your nails dig into him. it’s too fucking much, you think, as your eyes roll back. but suguru simply brings one of your knees further up, spreading you even more and your thighs tremble. 

“go on,” he coos, eyes narrow, “cum for me.” he squeezes one last time before you’re coming undone, flailing and seeing white. your pussy twitches around him as he fucks you through it, before he slowly comes to stop. 

he releases the grip on your neck, his hand once again soft as it trails up to caress your cheek. you hiccup and pant, as you come down from your high. 

“good girl,” he praises, pulling out, and you press your cheek further into his hand, opting to suckle on his thumb. he chuckles, “was that so bad?” 

you shake your head, the tears finally starting to stop. you don’t realize that he still hasn’t cum yet and close your eyes anyway, thinking it’s over. it’s not till he removes his thumb and flips you over onto your belly that you realize it’s not. 

“that’s good,” he says as he pulls your hips up, flush with his, slipping inside. you sob out, trying to crawl away, but he places a palm between your shoulders, locking you in. “cause we’re not finished yet.”

[dnpbeats]

Why I Don’t Think the Secret Project™ Is a Tour—This Time With Facts!

Let me start out by saying I do think they’ve brought up another tour enough that it will happen at some point, I just don’t think it will be this soon! (Also keep in mind Dan did imply there are two things coming up in his Tweet.) That being said, obviously I could be totally wrong. But hey, if they do announce a tour in a couple of weeks, there has to be someone that gets clowned by the announcement, and I’m happy to take the fall <3 Post under cut as it's long (1.3k words 💀)

The main reason I don’t think they’re announcing a tour is timing, but I do also have something to say about the hints they’ve been dropping and why I also don’t think it necessarily points towards a tour. So, to start, let’s look at how long they spent planning TATINOF and II. In “The Making of TABINOF,” Phil says they are releasing the book (on October 8th 2015) after working on it for a year and a half, which would be April 2014. Presumably, this is around the time they started working on TATINOF as well because they were supposed to be companions. TABINOF and TATINOF were announced together on March 26th 2015, so almost exactly a year after they started planning them. Even if you want to guess that TATINOF planning started a few months after TABINOF planning, keep in mind that they originally only planned the UK leg and planned the US tour after that. The UK leg ended November 15 2015 and they announced the US leg February 26 2016. So that’s a little over two months of them planning the US leg alone, when they already had the show itself all sorted.

With II, we know they were actively planning it for about a year. Phil follows that up to say they planned it for “the majority of this year [2018],” so let’s just call it 10-11 months. More so than that, Dan said that they realized they wanted to do a second tour “halfway through” TATINOF, which in my best guess places that decision around summer 2016. This means they seriously considered doing a second tour for ~6 months before they even started planning it. 

Now, if the new project coming up is a tour, they’ve only been working on it for 6 months max. They only brought back the gaming channel 7 months ago, and we know from the end of Dan’s bday live stream that they didn’t start working on this project until they realized how many people still liked their content: “We were so shocked about how much people care about this light entertainment, sat-in-this-chair-ass content. [...] It took us by such surprise, and now we’re like, where is this going. [...] It was supposed to be a ‘let’s just do this for a bit and see what happens.’ [...] So now we find ourselves going, well okay, this channel, this content, the people, the future of it. What else are we gonna do? 'Cause it seems like there's a thing here.” 

So it’s up to you to decide when they realized that, but I think it was probably sometime in November at the absolute earliest, and then they still needed time after that to decide what they’re going to do, and then actually plan it. (And honestly, I doubt they started actively planning anything in December during gamingmas, but you never know!! Also like I said in my original post about this, Dan was still doing WAD stuff up until February and then some book promo stuff after that, so he was busy with that as well.)

So, that’s all to say, I really don’t think they’ve had time to plan an entire tour. At the very least, not a world tour, but I don’t know if they’d announce a UK-only leg and plan the worldwide tour later based on what they said about choosing to plan II all at once, rather than the split up way they did with TATINOF (also keep in mind that Dan announced WAD all at once, like d&p did with II). Idk I just don’t think they’d announce a tour without having it all planned!

Okay, so, besides the random hints that they’re busy planning something, we also have Phil’s comment about saving money in his Cactus Club post. He wrote “I also just wanted to make your cactus a lil more affordable as Dan and I get busy on what is …. next… ??” Now while this seems to imply saving up for something (hence why the membership needs to be affordable), he doesn’t outright say that. Then in his Q&A vid, he answers a question about what he’s cooking that specifically asks, “Should I save my money?” And interestingly, Phil doesn’t address the money part of the question. Now maybe he just couldn’t say anything about saving money, maybe it would've been too on-the-nose. But I’m also sure plenty of other people asked that question without asking about saving, which means he chose to specifically ignore that part. To me, it seems kinda weird to outright exclude that if the project is something people will have to pay a lot of money upfront for (i.e. tour tickets), but again that’s just my opinion.

(Also just a secondary note on Phil’s answer—he actually says, “Look, I can neither confirm nor deny something might happen in the next month.” I find the phrasing he chose really interesting. He didn’t say an announcement was coming, he said something was going to happen. Dan also never explicitly said to look forward to an “announcement,” he just said they’ve been cooking and to give it a couple of weeks. Obviously this could all mean nothing and maybe it is an announcement (whether it be for a tour or something else), but I actually think whatever the project is might be getting released not just announced. But idk!)

A moment of me speculating based on vibes (that also negates the note I just made about this potentially being a release rather than an announcement): part of me thinks this project might be something/similar to something they tried to get off the ground before but then never came to fruition! This gifset by @reunitedinterlude got me thinking about projects that they didn’t get to do for various reasons (namely COVID lol). I think one of these (either one of Phil’s ideas that he’s now brought Dan onto, or something they were trying to do together from the get go) would actually make a lot of sense for what’s getting announced. It would be something that they had already started work on, so it doesn’t take as much planning as something brand new, meaning it could be announced sooner. Additionally, I just feel like they’ve been so vague about what’s coming up, but they’ve also been super excited! They seem really proud about whatever they’ve been cooking. While I obviously think they’d be excited to do another world tour, part of me just feels like they might be this excited because it’s something new that they’ve never done before. Also, if it’s some kind of game show type thing, it would make sense that Dan said the project is a “celebration” of the gaming channel. But again this is just based on vibes lol.

In conclusion, I do think we’ll get a third Dan and Phil tour, I just don’t think it’s what’s getting announced(/released?) in the coming weeks. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the next thing they announce after whatever this upcoming thing is! If you think I’m dead wrong and actually other people have planned world tours in <6 months please let me know, I’m happy to be proven wrong bc I would love another tour :)

[muniimyg]

falling in love 》 series m.list

note: for the sake of timelines ,, let's say this extra takes place around ch 5 !!! the text (pic 1) is considered part 1 for this extra <3 hope that makes sense !!!

warnings: implied smut !!! jk is abt to eat her out lol

taglist request: CLOSED

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

//

“Oh, what the fuck? How’d you get in?” 

Jungkook’s eyes are barely open, but he is already lifting his covers for you to join him. He can’t help but offer you a sleepy smirk as you undress your outside layer. Eyeing your thin and flimsy pajamas, you attempt to sound strict and lay the boundary for tonight.

“Stop looking at me like that…” You warn. “Jungkook, we are not fucking.”

He puts his hands up, pouting innocently. “Can we revisit the topic after your meeting?”

You glare at him. 

“... Fine,” you huff, settling beside him. Jungkook feels instant relief as he reaches for your body and pulls you closer. 

Happily, he wraps his arms around you, resting his head on your stomach. He has waited for this all day. It was the one thing he was looking forward to. Even if you didn't come, he was looking forward to dreaming about it. Yet, here you are... Holding him like he's all yours.

Which he is.

The placement is just a little shy under your boobs, so you can’t blame him when he sneakily slides his hand under your shirt and squeezes them. 

“Jungkook!” you laugh, playfully pushing him away. “Seriously? Just wait an hour.”

“So we are fucking after your meeting? In an hour to be exact?”

You purse your lips at him. “Pookie, can’t you just behave?”

He ponders. Then, he remembers he doesn’t give a shit. 

“When does your meeting start?” He asks. 

You reach over for your laptop and turn the screen on. Reading the time, you shrug at him in response. “Hmmm... In like 20 minutes.”

“20 minutes is enough time,” Jungkook insists, giving you no time to escape. Hastily, he places small and sweet kisses on your lips and then on your cheeks. 

Giggling, you push him off with a groan. “Yah, Jungkook—”

“Oh come on, pookie! Did you really think my back was the only thing that was gonna get rubbed tonight?”

Your mouth drops. 

Jungkook laughs heartily as you roll your eyes at him and complain about his unhinged behaviour. Once your whining dies down, he pulls you even closer and sinks into your body. He holds you tight as you rub his back. 

“Were you napping to ignore your problems?” you ask him quietly. “And can you—holy shit—I can’t breathe! Do you have to hold me so tight?”

It feels like your bones are about to be crushed. Jungkook’s body is warm and so fucking beefy. It’s comfortable and all but wow do you need some air. In response, he buries his face in your body, tightening his grip. You let out a squeal. 

“Yes,” he murmurs. “If I don’t, you might run away.”

Dramatically, you gasp for air. “J-Jungkook, I won’t run away. I’m in my pajamas. I’d have to get dressed first, of course!”

Your joke doesn’t amuse him. 

“When I fall asleep… You might leave.” Jungkook says, revealing his hidden feelings. 

You bite your inner cheek, navigating through your feelings. Honestly, his room was warmly lit… It’s pretty chilly tonight… Not to mention that it is getting kind of late… Maybe you should stay the night. Although it’s kind of funny he assumed you were going to leave. Never have you ever done that to him. Never ever could you do it. 

“I’ll only leave if you snore.” You tease him, booping his nose. “Also, I didn’t know you were such a light sleeper."

He scrunches his nose in response. “Now you know. Take note for next time,” Jungkook yawns. “And yeah… I didn’t know if you were actually coming so I thought I would just sleep off my bad mood.”

“Did it work?”

Jungkook lets out a drowsy-like chuckle. “No. You woke me up.”

“Geez, okay… I’ll leave—”

Jungkook plops up on his elbows and hisses, “Shut up and listen to my day, woman. You’re the only good thing in my life so you’re not allowed to leave. Don’t even joke about that. God, you’re so fucking mean—”

You cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours. Kissing him gently, you add another peck as you pull away. Holding his face close, you kiss his cheeks and murmur, “Hmmm, sorry, sorry…”

He huffs, pouting for another kiss. You give in. 

Then, he begins to ramble about all the things that made his day so horrible. 

You lay there, rubbing his back, and offer a few, “Mhmm,”’s “Oh, seriously?” and a few, “Eww. No, you’re so right. That sounds awful. I’d be upset too.” Listening to his tired voice makes you sleepy. Not that he’s boring but more because it was so soothing. That’s something you would have never admitted a few months ago…

But things change. 

He changed.

You changed too. 

Unexpectedly, being together is so comforting. Despite being each other's pain in the ass, you two were always there for each other. You two, for some odd reason, have begun to need one another. 

Each other’s warmth, each other’s touch, and each other’s presence—all of it. 

God, you two just made everything better for one another.

If falling in love was a feeling… This is it. 

Being with Jungkook is so easy.

Like... You never understood when people said that about their significant other, but now you do. The weird part is... He isn't even yours.

It's like whenever you have issues that are blown up in your head, he doesn’t try to find solutions. Instead, he listens and helps you reflect. Jungkook has a good understanding of what is his to handle and honestly? He handles you well. 

Besides, being with you is his favourite part of living. It’s as if his body wasn’t aching from the 4 hour long soccer practice. It’s as if nothing mattered because at the end of the day—if it meant that he could be with you. 

Your meeting goes smoothly. Jungkook behaves (let’s give him a gold star!) and at one point, he falls asleep. His little snores made you roll your eyes, but it didn’t motivate you to leave. If anything, it’s the reason you stayed. When the call ends, Jungkook slides his hands down your shorts and chuckles. 

“Forgot to eat dinner,” he claims, peaking with one eye. “Lemme eat that pussy…”

You blink at him. 

He returns your look with a pout. 

“Pretty please?”

You stay still. 

Then, he huffs and abruptly gets up. “You’re so annoying,” Jungkook groans as he walks to his door. Just as he’s about to leave, he makes his final comment. “Do you know how hard it was to not eat you out while you were being all cute and academic? I behaved and now I’m starving. I’m gonna make some food. You craving anything—oh fuck yes.”

Jungkook’s words are cut off as you fling your panties onto his face. 

He blinks at you, scrunching your panties in his hands. His eyes almost fall out of his head as you open your legs and lean back against his headboard. Oh, god... He is so lucky. Today truly is the best day of his life.

Jungkook watches with steady eyes as you lift your flimsy top to expose your breasts. Then, you put your hands to your sides and grip his bed sheets. He loves the way you look right now... It's mesmerizing.

Therefore, Jungkook wastes no time.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." He praises your body, more than ready to dive in. You roll your eyes at him but secretly love this. You know you do. You feel it between your legs and even in your heart.

He positions himself in between your legs and kisses your inner thigh. As he begins, you grip his hair with one hand and whimper, "y-you... Craving you."

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

Part 1: Mandibles!

Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Welcome to the end.

Before we start, I just want to shine a light on some interpretations of the billboard in relation to part 2 of the theory right here, and an observation about "Trust no one" that relates to the theory right here.

Once again, for those new to the theory: it proposes that Bill wasn't alone in destroying his dimension-- he had a partner, one that used him like he used Ford. The previous three posts are crucial to understanding where I'm coming from with this.

This post will mostly be some miscellaneous things that I think could support the overall theory, honestly. So I'm just gonna get started with it. And, as always:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING CIPHERS

Let's finish this.

So, something that was in the original Arsonist Theory from years ago was that Bill, oddly enough, seemed afraid of his own fire powers. He never uses them in combat, even though it would be a major advantage to him to do so. In fact, he really only seems to use fire as little more than cosmetic flair, lighting his hand on fire to make deals and other situations like that. There are really only three times he uses his fire to directly effect the environment--

Ford's dream sequence, destroying the journals, and burning up the Cipher wheel in the finale.

It's a bit strange, though. All three of those times, he didn't use his signature blue flames. He used orange flames instead.

Another thing is, remember when he died? The second the room lit on fire, he panicked. He's a dream demon, he should have been able to get the hell out of there the second he realized something was wrong! He's not powerless in this situation, so why is he acting like he is? Unless, for some reason, something about the environment reminded him of a certain... other time he was surrounded by fire? A time where, unlike now, he was powerless? Curious!

That on its own doesn't support the theory directly, however it points to lingering trauma from the destruction of Euclidia regardless.

Now... I saw a theory that made an argument that the repeated motifs of "mandibles" points to the idea that Bill might have eaten his own family.

And honestly, I agree. But...

As another layer to it, we only know that Bill had a mutation that let him see the third dimension, along with most likely fire powers since birth. So where did this sudden interest in devouring people come from?

Maybe whoever was with him was the one that taught him it. The one that told him that consuming souls meant that you would never be alone, as they would always be inside of you forever. Because, to me, it seems like an odd leap from "wants to show everyone the third dimension" to "eating people as everything burns around him." So maybe, he was influenced by something? Someone?

And another thing: When Bill is dying, in the Book Of Bill, we see two ciphers on the page.

One of them is "AXOLOTL" over and over, as to be expected.

The other? "Just fit in."

That absolutely sounds like something Euclidia would have pushed upon him! Ergo, he was remembering Euclidia in that moment, ergo the fire did definitively remind him of Euclidia, ergo he seems to get flashbacks when he sees his own fire.

This next part is pure extrapolation, so bear with me here.

Bill, on one page, mentions a highlight of his glory days as being "disassociating, and waking up to find [he'd] conquered another dynasty." Score!

Except... disassociating? Think about it.

Bill had just made a mention to disassociation, implying that he knows that he does it and knows what it feels like for him when it happens.

But when he was talking about Euclidia... he says there's a "loud buzzing in [his] ears and [he] blacks out for 30 seconds."

If this was how his disassociation usually presented itself... wouldn't he just say so?

This doesn't sound like his usual denial, either. When Bill denies something, he remains perfectly cognizant of the events that occurred, merely twisting around some details and/or justifying it to himself.

...Remember back in part one, I said I'd discuss what Bill said about his weaknesses? About how he's been touchy about them ever since... something? And how the obvious interpretation is-- especially considering that he Gatsby's us after the memory gun is mentioned-- that he's touchy ever since the Pines defeated him?

Another thing this book teaches us is that multiple versions of the same object can exist. Mainly, there have been many different iterations of the portal over the centuries.

Perhaps... multiples of some other object can exist, and have existed, and have been used against Bill?

A loud buzzing in your ears. Do you know what makes a loud buzzing noise when it's used?

"No!" You're probably thinking.

"Yes," I say.

Okay, "Probably likely" I say, but that's not as good for dramatic flair.

Sure, the buzzing isn't that loud, but once it's up to your ear... it'd be plenty loud.

One of the ciphers regarding Bill says "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES." Meaning, there's a secret, deeper layer to even his lies. Maybe it's that, at least here, this isn't necessarily a lie, moreso that he's operating under missing information.

And furthermore- Bill remembers some parts of what happened, judging by the text that wasn't blocked out, which does line up with how the memory gun works-- at the end of the clip, McGucket makes a reference to Bill himself, the very thing he wanted to forget.

And wouldn't that be another instance of some kind of damaging cycle? Something took away Bill's memories, now Bill has stolen the memories of another? I know, I know, it's kind of a long shot.

But you have to admit, it is interesting to think about.

Now, there might be one final thing you might be wanting from me.

If Bill was someone's accomplice, who is the bigger fish?

And to that I say...

I have no fucking idea.

Not a single clue. Bill says on his "weaknesses" page that anyone whose figured out his weaknesses haven't lived to tell the tale, but that's already verifiably false with Stan still being alive, and with the added bonus of his memory possibly being tampered with... are we sure?

I'm... not sure if the thisisnotawabsitedotcom.com lost files will have anything to do with Euclidia or not. I'm not sure what they'll be at all, honestly.

But at the end of the day, I do think this theory holds some sort of ground and is an interesting angle (pun intended) of looking at Bill's past.

Hope you all liked the theorizing, folks! Let's all wait for that countdown!!

[still-a-morosexual-help]

God, this man has the absolute worst case of nostalgia based rose tinted glasses

In nightbringer itself Asmo says the day before they Fell he was hiding from Raphael for messing with him/pissing him off

All of Lucifer's siblings (minus Levi, as far as we know) were frequently sneaking into the human world while they were actively at war with the Devildom and while it was forbidden to interact with humans

Mammon used the angels as his own giant chess set????

Mammon used to sneak into the human world to collect pigeon feathers and sell them to angels by saying they were Raphael's feathers, which is hilarious but is also A FUCKING SCAM THAT CURRENT MAMMON WOULD ABSOLUTELY PULL

The others actually thought Mammon would Fall long before he did because he was such a shit head

Asmo used to have his Asmo parties or Asmo nights or whatever up in the Celestial Realm despite Raphael saying parties are bad (I feel like the actual word he used was "immoral"? )

Asmo used to sneak into the human world to go partying with humans

It is heavily implied in s3 that asmo was fucking & sucking his way through the celestial realm (good for him btw get those sticks outta the angels' asses babe i believe in you <3 )

The twins and Lilith used to frequently sneak into the human world

Lilith started a whole ass relationship with a human and lied her ass off about it so that she could keep it secret

Lilith compared Michael to a jellyfish???? the first time she met him and that pissed him off

Lilith held a hell of a grudge

Belphie used to skip work so he could go nap

The brothers, as a team, used to catch frogs, cut holes in books, put the frogs into them and wait for Raphael to open them

The brothers, as a team, used to dig pits in the ground and cover them up so that other angels would fall into them (at least the frog thing was kinda funny this is just them being straight up dicks)

Raphael was constantly chasing them around with his spears and getting on Lucifer's ass about them because of how troublesome they were

S4 implies that the reason the brothers' pranks are more refined as demons, compared to when they were angels, is because they now have Satan

So yeah, they were always asses

But even if there is some truth in what Lucifer said about them being kind & sincere (and honestly, there is. We've seen more than enough evidence of it in the events, devilgrams, chats & s1-4) :

Levi says he was depressed in the Celestial Realm and felt like he didn't fit in.

Both Mammon & Beel didn't fit in until Lucifer found them.

Lilith definitely didn't feel like she fit in.

Lucifer, as a demon, says he'll never want to go back. Talking with Diavolo as an angel made him lose a little faith in the Celestial Realm. His greatest fear is possibly his father. Even before they Fell something in the Celestial Realm was pissing him off so much that he managed to spawn a whole other conscious life form - Satan says he gained his own consciousness even before Asmo was created meaning that anger had been festering for a long time.

As far as we know Asmo & Belphie were the only ones who were genuinely happy throughout their entire time in the Celestial Realm (and I think once Asmo gets used to his demon form he'll appreciate the freedom in the devildom over the strictness of the celestial realm)

Mammon, in Nightbringer, says that they know there's no real difference between being an angel or a demon and that they're all just labels.

Whatever sincerity and kindness they, may or may not have, had in the Celestial Realm wasn't because they were angels. Or because of the Celestial Realm.

It was in spite of all that.

It was just what they are like as people.

And of course that sincerity and kindness aren't gonna shine through right after a horribly traumatic event that killed their sister and permanently changed their bodies. And due to such an event & their Sins becoming more...more, they'll obviously be different and treat each other differently as demons.

But at the end of the day they are good, kind people, even as demons.

Like we've seen that.

[eldritch-nightmare]

slow dancing.

a/n: idea popped into my mind and it became this. originally this was gonna include x virus but u know. my mind went blank for him. burying my head in my hands why did the bonus character one get longer than the rest i had to force myself to stop writing it holy hell

premise: it's storming outside, and the radio is playing a soft love song. so, why not dance? that was your thought as you approached your partner, getting their attention by holding your hand out, "dance with me."

includes: jeff the killer, the puppeteer, hobo heart, ticci toby, and zalgo. + a bonus character bc why not.

warnings: not proofread, very vaguely implied kidnapping and stockholm syndrome in jeff's part, blatantly stated kidnapping in zalgo's part, it's just fluff actually, inconsistent length, nsfw elements in the bonus part don't look at me okay

JEFF THE KILLER

"Huh?"

He just sorta stares at you for a moment, confusion evident in his gaze as he stares at your outstretched hand. Honestly, you don't know why he seemed so caught off guard. You two were long past the... ugly beginning of your relationship.

You just shrug at his confusion, casually explaining that since neither of you could go outside due to the weather, you might as well make the most of it. Why you've decides that dancing in the best way to pass time during a storm is beyond him.

He thinks you're weird as hell for this, and he says such to your face, but he's already reaching out and taking your hand, letting you take the lead this once as you pull him close to you. He certainly isn't complaining anymore now that the two of you are pressed together like this.

Jeff can't dance to save his life though, so you'll have to take the lead and guide him through simple steps. It's annoying, having you teach him something, but he likes the way you smile when he sways along with you to the music, so just this once, he decides it's not too bad.

He enjoys himself far more than he's willing to admit, and you don't miss the way his grip on you lingers for a moment too long after the song ends before he pulls away from you, grumbling about how pointless that was before returning to whatever he had been doing before.

THE PUPPETEER

He would glance up from the project he's working on, golden eyes peering up at you as he processes your request. He rarely ever had the radio playing, but the rain made it hard to focus so he had turned it on to drown the storm out. Honestly, he hadn't even noticed you were in the room with him.

He'd raise a brow, part of him wanting to scold you for interrupting his work and asking him to do something for you, but... well, he has been working for hours now with no break, so what harm could this do?

He'll let out a slightly exasperated sigh before standing from his seat and taking your hand. You won't be able to take the lead here, since he already knows how to dance.

You two will sway along to the music, the sound of the storm no longer existing as the two of you get lost in your own little world together. You're comfortably resting your head against his shoulder, quietly humming along to the song while he's closing his eyes and allowing himself to relax even if only for a moment.

The Puppeteer could honestly get lost in the moment here if he lets himself. You'll start to feel strings coiling around you, and you'll glance down to see his signature golden strings lazily latching on to you, almost as if to keep you close to him if you try pulling away.

When the song ends, he'll immediately leave his thoughts and open his eyes, detaching from you and stepping away. The strings don't immediately let go, but he pretended as if they weren't there. You don't need to know just how attached he is to you.

HOBO HEART

He's immediately taking your hand before he even processes your request, just eager to be touching you in some way as he stares at you as if you had personally put all the stars in the night sky. And once he does process your request, he's nodding along.

Heart doesn't care about the storm. He's been out in so many of them in his lifetime that he barely even acknowledges when it rains anymore. But if you wanna dance to keep your mind off the storm, then he's all for it.

He has no idea how to dance, so it's a bit clumsy and his grip on you is definitely a little too tight but you're both having fun, and you can tell he's trying his best to please you.

You'll definitely have to take the lead here.

And at some point, he'd burying his face in either your neck or your hair, softly muttering sweet-nothings to you as the two of you sway together to whatever sappy love song is playing on the radio.

Heart always feels like he's in heaven whenever you're close like this, and he's enjoying this a lot more than he thought he would.

Once the song ends, you'll try to pull away but he's clinging to you, clearly not satisfied enough to let you go. Welp. Looks like you're dancing to another song.

TICCI TOBY

Toby would definitely be the most hesitant to take your hand. He's not good with close contact, and he recoils from physical touch more often than not, even if he knows it's someone he can trust.

But the booming thunder outside is too loud. Too similar to cars crashing together. Too familiar. He needed a distraction, and you were providing him one. It took him a moment, but he was hesitantly reaching out and taking your hand.

He vaguely knows how to dance. He would dance along to upbeat songs with Lyra when he was younger, and when he was really young, he would sway along to some random old 80s song that his mom enjoyed. But slow dancing is not something he's done before, and the close proximity set him on edge a bit.

He's too tense, his grip too tight one moment and too loose the next. Occasionally, a tic would cause the both of you to stumble a bit before regaining balance.

You were patient with him, going at his pace and letting him take the lead as he got comfortable being so close to you. Once his shoulders relaxed and he seemed less tense, you gave him a few pointers that he carefully followed .

Soon enough, the two of you were swaying together to an old love song playing on the radio. He still flinched whenever a particularly loud thing of thunder would roar, but you were able to keep most of his attention focused on you.

The two of you end up swaying together until the storm dies down.

ZALGO

You're not entirely sure what exactly classifies as a storm in this cursed realm you found yourself trapped in, but they were far more scary than the ones back in the mortal world. The sky here literally screamed in agony as a sickly rustic-scented liquid rained from above.

You were lucky enough to have a radio with you to distract you from the raging storm outside. You don't question how it works here, opting to just believe it's some weird Zalgo-esque bullshit.

You were just glad you weren't alone right now, your loving captor having decided to deign you with his presence. You still weren't accustomed to his true form, no one is really, so he had opted to appear in a... acceptably human state.

When a love song started playing through the radio, you had turned it up a bit in hopes of drowning out the storm. The idea of dancing didn't come to your mind immediately, but you could feel Zalgo's many eyes just staring you down from across the room.

With a sigh, you force yourself away from where you had comfortably been sitting and cross the room. You did not miss the way Zalgo's stern expression softened ever so slightly when you held your hand out and asked him to dance with you.

Even in this form, he was much taller than you, so dancing was certainly... odd, and the feeling of his deathly cold skin against yours was not at all pleasant, but you chose to ignore that.

And he was clearly enjoying this for one reason or another. You suppose that was a good thing, and you found yourself enjoying this as well, much to your surprise.

Hm... maybe you'll invite him to dance more often. Maybe.

BONUS: HABIT no i havent finished emh yes i am writing this i need the guy to fuck me stupid seven ways to sunday i am not immune

Habit immediately beams the moment you ask him to dance with you, taking your hand and immediately pulling you close to him. You had to make sure you took the lead immediately, otherwise, who knows what would've happened.

Is he a good dancer? Fuck no. Evan probably is, maybe slightly, but Habit? Nah, it's not his cup of tea. He just likes when you're close to him.

His hands wander a little lower than they should be, resulting in you continuously having to fix them. Whenever you glare at him for that, he just innocently smiles as if he's done nothing wrong.

Though Habit's constant teasing was a bit annoying, you still enjoyed dancing with him, swaying along to the song playing on the radio as the storm raged on outside, adding to the strangely romantic ambiance that seemed to be developing.

It was soft enough that it almost made you forget the amount of carnage he could cause if he so desired, the carnage he has caused. He seemed to be in a rather good mood today, judging from how he isn't verbally teasing you for wanting to dance with him.

You were both content in each other's arms, the song ending and another starting, neither of you ready to pull away from each other just yet. At some point, he had buried his face in your neck, taking deep breaths as if he were trying to burn your scent into his mind.

It was when the third song ended that you finally decided to pull away from him.

The moment you tried doing so, however, his grip on you was tightening and he was letting out a low growl, "Don't move, bunny." And that was enough to cause you to freeze. Not out of fear, though there was certainly an underlying sense of it, but mostly curiosity.

Before you could question him, you felt his bulge pressing into your leg, and Habit was evidently restraining himself from grinding against you, his nails digging into you as he kept you in place. Oh.

Seems like he wanted more from you. Here's to hoping you have the energy to keep up with him this time.

[mythicmanuscripts]

In the vampire!Aegon post you talked a bit about Aemond and omg....you're so right!! he would!! He seems like the type to get super attached. "Why would i feed off of anyone else, I already have you." T-T

EXACTLY ANON!! Also I counted and I have 9 separate asks all asking me to elaborate on vampire!aemond, which honestly I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point I think we all share the braincell 😂

Anyway, I’m gonna keep these thoughts SFW so no cut to hide behind, but of course it will be vampire!Aemond and also implied sub!Aemond. We can always chat about the NSFW side in another ask though :))

——————————

So in this supernatural!au, I don’t think it would be an arranged marriage? (Which, I know, pigs are flying because I’m actually discussing another option) I say this because I think that once Aemond encounters you and gets your scent he’s absolutely done for. He could have the ten most attractive women in the entire seven kingdoms naked before him and he’d look right past them all to try and find you.

Your scent entices him from day one, but then he starts to get closer to you and it very quickly becomes apparent that your connection is so much deeper than just him liking your scent. You two get along like a house on fire and pretty soon Aemond doesn’t even notice anyone else.

Like maybe you’re a lady of the court or your family travelled to the red keep for something, anything that means you spend a fair amount of time walking around the place. You don’t expect to do much more than sit quietly when held court and try to not murder the countless suitors trying to convince you and your family to give them your hand in marriage.

The very first interaction you have with him is after you sneak away from court because hearing Aegon stumble through advice for everyone is mind numbing. You end up in the library, and that’s where Aemond would you. He had the same plan: sneak into the library before he died of boredom.

You end up sitting next to each other and reading, you’ll sometimes say something to him as well. You know he’s a vampire, but that doesn’t make you feel unsafe, certainly not here anyway.

Aemond, meanwhile, is literally salivating. He’s always prided himself on having good control over his urges but now, sitting next to you, he can’t even get his fangs to retreat.

From then onwards it feels like Aemond is constantly following you. Of course it takes while for him to do much more then just walk with you, but he’s already made up his mind that he won’t marry another.

Maybe the first time he drinks from you it’s out of necessity? By that point you know Aemond very well and you know he hasn’t fed in a few days and there’s some ball or celebration going on that night so he has to be fed enough to not go killing everyone in attendance.

Initially when you hold your arm to him, palm up, he refuses says he would never expect that from you. But then you tell him you’d be honoured, he can’t resist anymore.

And holy god he’s immediately addicted. Everything about drinking from you is different. Not only is your blood incredible but he’s also in your arms and you’re running his neck.

When he pulls away, his pupils are blown and his entire body is like jelly. He didn’t even know it was possible to feel this satiated but somehow he does.

From that moment on he never drinks from another, ever. He would starve without complaint if he couldn’t drink you.

In fact, maybe you have a few days where you’re very busy and you haven’t see Aemond since the feeding incident. Eventually you get summoned by the maesters to Aemond’s chambers because he curled up in his bed and refusing all the blood the maesters are trying offer him. He was literally starving himself because he wouldn’t have another.

You let him drink again of course, and when he’s done he just lays there, completely satiated. Without thinking he rolls closer to you and you bring him into your arms. You know you shouldn’t do this. As an unmarried woman you know you’re not supposed to risk someone seeing you coming or going from Aemond’s quarters but you couldn’t care less because he needs you.

From there he stops trying to keep his desires under control. He’s always with you, always supporting you and keeping you close and of course feeding from you.

(This is already so long and I’m starting to get a migraine but I have plenty more thoughts on this entire AU, unfortunately I just can’t do them right now but tomorrow when I’m headache free we will be unstoppable, but until then, I hope you guys liked the start of this!’ Let me know your thoughts I’d love to hear)

[fairyyobrien]

Spin The Bottle Stilinski

- this wasn’t requested but oh my god it’s been on my mind for so long. Hope y’all enjoy, this is honestly my first time writing smut so bare with me please

Warnings: smut. might be cringe. takes place in season 1, oh yea buzz cut stiles ;) some fluff

Summary: Reader and Stiles are ex best friends and get dragged to a party, they end up playing spin the bottle and reader gives Stiles a little treat

“y/n pleaseeee please come to this party with me. It’s the party of year!”

“i don’t know alison.. I’m not really in a party mood tonight..”

“y/n come on look at me, look I know it’s hard getting cheated on.. it’s been over a month, and you know you deserve to have some fun. I don’t wanna pressure you I just think it’d be good for you”

you turn around and take a good look at your best friend, she was right. you deserved this, you may have got your heart broken but you weren’t gonna let some stupid jock get the best of you.

“okay let’s do this! let’s go”

alison jumps up squealing, “yay! lets go shopping!”

“you know dude alison told me y/n is going to the party” scott says taking a sip out of his cup while looking at his best friend.

stiles rolls his eyes “uhh.. cool I guess?” he says slamming the buttons on his Xbox controller.

“we all know how you feel about her”

“that’s all in the past besides me and y/n hardly ever speak anymore.. and she has a boyfriend anyways” he shrugs, eyes still glued to the tv

“um actually y/n is single now..”

“Oh..”

“if i were you i’d wear something really nice” scott implies, making stiles rethink his choices.

*hours later*

you and alison arrived at the party, you followed her to the snack table where you were greeted with Scott and Stiles, she kissed Scott’s cheek.

“hey guys”

“hey y/n you doing good?” scott asked.

“eh.. you know me, always working”

“she’s not lying I basically had to beg her to come” alison playfully rolled her eyes

“hey sti” you smiled. “h-hey y/n”

“it’s been a while since we talked I miss you” you said hugging him softly. “yeah.. me too” he sighs looking down, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets.

after 15 minutes everyone ended up on the floor playing spin the bottle.

the bottle was passed down to stiles’s, he stared at the bottle for a good minute until he heard the words, “Spin the bottle Stilinski what are you waiting on?” he grabbed the bottle nervously and spun. he didn’t even wanna play but scott dared him and he wasn’t turning down a dare.

his jaw dropped to the floor once it landed on you. he nervously looked in scott’s direction noticing him and alison trying to retain their giggles. he then locked eyes with you smiling at you with his usual goofy awkward smile. you smile back slightly blushing.

“come on you two what you waiting on? you guys already know your way to the closet”.

stiles slowly stands up, walking your way leaning his hand down to grab yours. you nervously smile at him and grab his hand. you two make your way to the closet and he shuts the door. you don’t notice the smirks on scott’s and alison’s face as you walk away.

“soo…” stiles awkwardly says leaning against the wall.

“stiles lets talk. what happened with us?”

“what do you mean y/n?”

“why don’t we hang out anymore.. i mean we used to be so close. i miss it. i miss you.. i miss us. our friendship”

“okay I’m just gonna say it. that’s the problem y/n. it was always just “friendship” with you.. i’ve loved you for years and i couldn’t do it anymore so i distanced myself. i’m sorry” as soon as the words slipped from his mouth, stiles looked taken back at himself, he quickly turned around facing the wall and kicked at it.

“stiles look at me” he slowly turned around looking down at the floor. “you’re an idiot” you started giggling. “that doesn’t make me feel any better”. you rolled your eyes at him “stiles, i’ve always had feelings for you”

“y-you what?” his eyes widened. “Yeah..i’ve always had and still have feelings for you”. stiles pressed you up against the wall and kissed you passionately, he was surprised at his sudden boost of confidence. this wasn’t yours and stiles first kiss, you once practiced kissing with each other in the 7th grade, that was when stiles discovered his feelings for you.

the kiss started to heat up, he kissed up your jaw making you moan slightly. “sti I wanna try something” you whisper pulling away. he raised an eyebrow “okay, what do you have in mind?” you get on your knees and unzip stiles’s pants, his eyes widened once more when he realizes. “o-oh” he blushes deeply.

you pull his briefs down and he tenses up and gives out a shaky breath. “stiles i can stop if it’s too much..”

“n-no don’t stop.. i just can’t believe this is actually happening”you smirk at him, “wow sti, you’re the perfect size” you say making his face flush with red and making him hardened.

you grip his cock in your hand and start to massage. stiles lets out a soft moan, “y/n.. please”

“does it feel good?”

“Y-yes” he pants.

“how about this?” you lick around his tip. he throws his head back “ohh oh my g-god” he puts his hand over his mouth to drown out his crys and whimpers. you continue to lick, then move on to sucking. stiles takes his other hand into your hair making a ponytail. he starts thrusting into your mouth, making you nearly choke and your eyes slightly water.

you continue bobbing your head, and begin licking up and down once again. you go back to licking around the tip, slowing down then speeding back up, you begin placing kissing around stiles’s thighs, making him shiver and squirm. you wanted to make sure to give stiles the best head he could possibly receive. you make you way back down to stiles cock, and start sucking again.

“y/n I’m so close I’m-”

“hmm” you hum and he starts thrusting faster, gripping your head harder.

“i’m bout to-” he throws his back once again with the most obvious moan, so loud that the crowd just a couple steps away could probably hear it.

you pull away with a ‘pop’ quickly swallowing. stiles takes your hand into his helping you up. he was still trying to catch his breath as you helped him pull up his pants, you teased him by rubbing his now sensitive cock. he moaned again “y-y/n” you giggled and smirked at him. “come ere” he whispered pulling you in for the most passionate kiss. “god I love you so much. t-that was amazing oh my god. wow. you have a mouth of a goddess”.

“i love you too” you giggle at his reaction.

“y-you know I was thinking I could do the same to you sometime if you’re comfortable with it of course”. Your cheeks reddened, and you felt the heat from your core as the thoughts of stiles’s mouth on your wet p*ssy lingered in your mind.

“i would love that” you say and kiss his lips softly. you both pull away and straighten yourselves up looking as innocent as you possibly can. stiles opens up the door with you following behind. you both walk up to your friends, “hey guys, that was quite a while” scott teases earning an awkward laugh from stiles and a blush from you.

“y/n you ready to go back to my house?” alison asks grabbing her keys from her bag. “Oh definitely” you say yawning.

“bye scott.. bye stiles” you wave and walk away.

“duuuude” scott nudges stiles. “what?” he covers his mouth trying to cover up the blush forming. “let’s just say we all know it wasn’t PG-13 in there” he teases. “i’m guessing you guys worked things out, yes?” stiles looks back up grinning, “oh yeah everything’s definitely worked out”

that night he lied in bed replaying the images in his mind and he couldn’t wait to do the same to you.

—

im sorry if this is sooo long. hopefully it was enjoyable. i really tried! 😭

[krypticcafe]

Can you do a part 2 of the platonic reader and the 141+Alejandro where reader gets kidnapped and comes back? I love your writing!

No One Can Hurt You

Sequel to As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x task force 141 + alejandro + rodolfo

warning(s): language, canon-typical violence, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, mild gore descriptions for a hot second, implied ghost zapping a guy's balls, reader is lowkey traumatized, comfort, no use of y/n, no beta read, possible ooc?

a/n: I did NOT expect to get such an overwhelmingly positive response on the first part?? I was worried that the writing felt bland, but you guys seemed to love it, so here's the highly demanded part two!

synopsis: the 141 and Los Vaqueros weren't going to stand for what happened to you. No one would.

alternative title— fuck around and find out

"We found the guys your sources claimed to be the men that were there, Captain. But they're refusing to say anything to us. Honestly, it looks like they're just another pair of lackeys." Gaz was speaking over comms with Price after locating a suspect with Roach. The two had found the pair in a dingy old building, a safehouse conveniently placed far from heavily populated civilian areas.

"Should we-"

He was cut off by a series of loud thuds and glass crashing, immediately grabbing his handgun and running into the room where Roach was keeping an eye on their suspects.

Roach had one of the men pinned to the ground, repeatedly decking him in the face whilst letting out frustrated yells and broken cries. Blood splattered across the floor and on his visor, but he could've cared less, it wasn't his anyways.

"Roach, get off of him, that's enough!" Gaz practically had to tear his teammate away from the man with how Roach flailed, grunting and clawing at Gaz's arms to let him go. "Roach, we can't do anything if you bloody kill them!"

Pushing off Gaz, Roach seethed with pained eyes, nearly tearing up out of sheer frustration. "He's hiding something, I know he is! That sadistic fuck started bragging about what they did to the sergeant and- and the smug shit look he had! These are the guys, but they're not telling us everything!"

He knew it was a terrible excuse, but his own gut feelings about reading people's expressions had never proved him wrong before, not when he had an eye for reading people through their body language. Gaz hesitated. He understood why Roach lashed out and didn't blame him for losing his temper, hell, he rarely did, and Gaz would've done the same in all honesty. You meant as much to him as you did to Roach. They were the first friends you made when joining the 141, the ones who helped acclimate you to the team, and the ones who trained under Price alongside you like you were their sibling. But it didn't help that they nearly broke protocol, which would've compromised the mission and made your sacrifice and suffering for nothing.

Looking down at the unconscious yet still-breathing man, Gaz then noticed how the blood pooled around him. It seemed to stop spreading at some point in the floorboards and spilled into an unusually large crack in the wood that looked suspiciously intentional.

"Roach, take the other one and call for exfil but don't tell them to leave just yet." Once his partner left, Gaz kneeled down to the floor and knocked on the wood. It was hollow.

Seems they would definitely need them alive now more than ever.

"I don't know who supplies us, I just work for them! Just ask-" The man let out a cry as Soap held his shoulder, digging his fingers into it and balling his other hand into a fist before landing a solid punch into his gut. A moment passed he choked on air, the wind knocked from him, his mouth painfully dry except for the tears that dripped from his eyes.

"Tell us who you work for or things are about to get real nasty for you like they did for your friend."

"You're in it if you think I'm gonna say shit! The 141 is just a freak show, ain't it? Bunch of you cowards hiding behind stupid callsigns, what the fuck kind of name is—" That earned him another beating. He wailed, writhing in pain against the tight restraints, but ultimately wasting his energy. He only stopped when he heard screams and crackles of what was undoubtedly electricity coming from behind one of the walls of the room.

"So you do know," Soap growled, beating him once more and backing up when he retched from pain. Blood dripped from Soap's knuckles, to which he scowled in disgust and irritation, his accent growing thick, "No, you just had to make things a fuckin' mess, dinnae you?"

Normally, it was Ghost who took care of interrogations, at least the more painful parts of it. But Soap needed to let out his anger in a useful way, he needed to hear the sickening crunch of ribs so that he could remind himself of what you went through and erase any sliver of doubt or sympathy in his mind for the enemy. Every splatter of blood that'd spill when he'd throw a fist across the guy's face was just another testament to how much he despised what happened and how desperately he needed to let it all out.

The man, in his bleary-eyed haze, made out another figure that entered the room. It was Ghost, with a box of electrical clamps in hand. "What is he doing here?"

Soap and Ghost made a silent exchange of words, nodding to one another in confirmation and speaking purely through eye contact. It only created more fear when Soap left the room and the man was all alone with the lieutenant.

"Hey hey hey where are you going you can't leave me with him! I did what I had to do, it's not my fault your friend was collateral—" The man choked on his words when Ghost pulled out two clamps and tested them, both emitting a spark and loud crackles that echoed off the walls. "—fuck! Oh god, no no no—what the fuck are you gonna use that for?!"

The lieutenant was a different situation. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to dig his hands into the man's open wounds, curl his fingers until flesh separated from bone, make them feel just exactly how much they got 'under his skin'. He wanted to hear the satisfying pop! of bones and cartilage. He wanted them to writhe like worms on a scalding sidewalk, pathetic and left for dead. But that wasn't enough, they didn't deserve the time, the effort, nor did they deserve the pleasure of a quick death. No, he needed to make them suffer.

Ghost brought one clamp up to the man's crotch with one hand and held a rusty knife with the other, lowering himself to look directly at his target. It was at that moment the man came to the realization that he wasn't captured, no, he fucked around, pulling off the stubborn shit act until they'd inevitably grow bored of him and move on, maybe put him out of his misery if he was lucky enough. But there was no moving on, there was no luck in this ring of hell. No, not with what had already been done and what couldn't be taken back even if he begged. The 141 was revered for their soldiers and their work, but it was a myth all at the same time. They were said to be efficient and ruthless, better to surrender to than to suffer at the hands of. Since they were off the books, it was a mystery as to what lengths they would go to, just how far they would push the limits.

He had fucked around, and now he'd find out.

They locked eyes, one pair filled with fear, the other devoid of any emotion. There wasn't the sympathy the man prayed for, nor the anger or violence of Soap, not even a hint of mercy or hatred. It was so empty of feeling that it almost felt dismissive, as if the man wasn't a human held hostage but an object, a book to be torn open for answers, then tossed aside. If Soap had been his judge and jury, then Ghost would surely be his executioner. He felt small, insignificant, and hopeless under the gaze as the man he truly believed was death incarnate responded to his question.

"Last. Chance."

One by one, Price and his crew had cleared the facility, evacuating workers and eliminating guards and cartel. After bringing their "guest informants" to the brink of delirium, wrenching them like wet towels to get every drop of info. Along with the intel Gaz gathered from a hidden basement where hard drives of transactions were being kept, they found the main supplier and other bases. If they took down the heart of the operation, it would cause a domino effect, shutting things down to a point where the Los Vaqueros would be able to handle them on their own. With every bullet shot, they were closer to their goal and closer to making up for what they considered a personal failure to protect one of their own and many more.

Maybe it was crazy that their primary motivation beyond recovering the drugs was to seek justice for a single soldier. But it was to prove a point. To prove that they weren't just a team of highly skilled and trained soldiers, to prove that they were a force to be reckoned with, and to prove that you were no less valuable of a member than the others, all of whom would lay their lives on the line for one another. After all,

The 141 was not to be messed with.

Making his way through the rooms and getting closer to the center of it all, Price was interrupted when a door to his side busted open from a man toppling back into it, falling to the ground. He tried to scramble back, a boot quickly stomping onto his chest. Alejandro towered before him, pressing a rifle to his head, growling in Spanish, "Where is your leader?"

The man responded, and without hesitation, the colonel gave him a quick and painless death for his obedience. Looking up, Alejandro nodded in acknowledgment at Price, "I'm not the only one that owes your sergeant, they protected my men, and I owed them a favor even before that."

That caused Price to chuckle, even despite their current circumstances. There was no denying how much of an unnecessarily reckless saint you could be with those you worked with. "I suppose you got a location from that poor bastard?"

"Yes. Have our teams regroup, it's going to be a long night for us all, my friend. But it's worth the trouble for Las Almas and the kid, no?"

"Yes, indeed." Price hummed, the two making their way out and on to finally settle the score.

You woke up blinded by a bright light, briefly contemplating if you were dead and if heaven was actually real all along. But after some time passed, your eyes adjusted to the all-too-familiar setting of the infirmary with its barren walls and sickly sanitized scent. With a groan, you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows until a hand gently pressed you back. Puzzled by the motion, you rubbed your eyes and found your captain looking back at you.

"Easy there, soldier." Price cautioned, and you kept your eyes on him as you laid back down. He had a small smile on his lips, but the way he looked at you signified that he was still concerned for your state, "You alright? Need the nurse or anything?"

"No," You shook your head, wincing at how hoarse your throat was. Price laughed softly and handed you a cup of water he had prepared at the side of your bed, and you started to wonder if he had always kept one there for you and if he even regularly changed it for you. You wouldn't put it past him to, the ol' sap.

Gulping the cool liquid down heartily, you took a few breaths before continuing, "How- how long was I out?"

"About a few days, no longer than a week." He shrugged, your eyes widening in response, "Cut yourself some slack. When you came back, you were bleeding out all over base and in hysterics. Doctor told us that if you got back any later, we would've lost you from the blood loss alone."

"Just the blood loss? Not the drugs? I would've figured the latter would be the end of me." You chuckled until you saw Price's expression, muttering a sheepish 'sorry, too soon?' and sipping your water cup, "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"Well, you did punch Garrick square in the chest, but he's been through worse. Wouldn't stop making puppy eyes at you the entire time after, I think you wounded his heart. Ghost had to restrain you afterward, and you were too weak to do any real damage at that point, just kept screaming your head off until you passed out."

"Shit," You cringed, your face burning hot with shame, "I'm sorry, Captain. I should've been more careful, I could've compromised the mission and-"

"Don't be. Sure, you made a bloody fool of yourself, but you saved your team in the process. And that's got to count for something, yeah?" He nudged you gently, "So don't beat yourself up, especially after you fought your way out of hell."

The sympathetic look he gave you held unspoken words, No one could've known. You couldn't have known. The urge to tear up right then and there was strong, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you already apparently had. Biting back the sting in your eyes, you only quietly nodded in response.

"Good. I'm proud of you, got that?" Price stood from his seat, giving your head a firm pat, "Rest up after they're done with you, alright? Can't have one of my finest on the sidelines for too long, now can I?"

"Honored to be one, Captain." You faltered for a moment, "Wait, 'they'?"

Price only gave you a sly shrug and left the room. You remained to wonder what he meant for approximately ten seconds until Gaz and Roach burst in, the latter immediately glued to your side. So this is who he meant by "they", why were you even surprised?

"Feeling alright there?" Gaz smiled, taking a seat at your other side.

"I should be asking you that, didn't you get all heartbroken after I punched you?"

"I shouldn't have asked," Gaz groaned, shaking his head despite his smile, "Cheeky as ever, huh? Can't even be sympathetic without you trying to make fun of me."

"Well, I for one was pissed!" Roach interjected, "Right after you got here, we got to work on finding the assholes who hurt you and made them eat shit for dinner. Man, I wish I could've been in the interrogation room with Ghost and Soap but Price said I'm only finding an excuse to beat them up more."

Gaz raised a brow, "You were finding an excuse to."

"Well yeah, but I was only gonna mess with them a little bit, not zap their balls like Ghost—"

"I'm sorry, what?" You coughed, stunned by all the information coming out of them and hardly able to keep up. "What happened when I was knocked out?"

"Price didn't tell you? Oh, well," The two began to give you a run-down of events, from how Roach nearly beat the living hell out of your torturers, to the hidden basement, Ghost and Soap's whole interrogation (with great detail via Roach intel), and how both Price and Alejandro held a whole operation and shut down the suppliers.

Gaz shrugged, "Of course, it was mostly to shut it down and for the sake of Las Almas-"

"-but I mean, we also had to defend your honor!" Roach huffed, passionately signing to emphasize his point, "At least I wanted to. Seriously, how fucked up is it that they drugged you? It wasn't even helpful, they're just sickos that-"

Before Roach could further rant, Gaz tugged at the back of his uniform collar and glanced at his watch. "C'mon Roach, we've been here for a good hour and Price has us on duty right now." Roach only whined at Gaz in response but he ignored it, giving you one last glance, "Get some rest and get well soon, mate. I can't babysit all on my own after all."

"Hey!"

You broke out in laughter, watching the two leave and waving them goodbye. While you wished they could've stayed longer, your heart still warmed at the thought of how they cared, waiting for you to wake up and immediately being at your side. It reminded you of how you stayed at their side when they got sick from a mission in the rain and you didn't, so you felt somewhat obligated to help them as the 'survivor'. Perhaps they felt the same way too, that as your friends, they felt obligated and willing to stay by your side in return.

Hours passed since Gaz and Roach had visited, morning turning to late afternoon. The only ones who did pass by were either other soldiers on base needing medical attention or the nurses themselves, who regularly checked up on you. It wasn't exactly the company you wanted, but it was better than agonizing silence and isolation, which you quickly found to be the worst of it all. Not the scars, not the stiff bandages, not even the sickly clean smell, but just when things were silent. When things were silent, your mind went back to the time you spent, the hours you waited in between questions and beatings with nothing but you in your own head fighting for your consciousness. The buzz of the fluorescent lights in the infirmary drilled a hole in your skull the same way that singular overhead light had, drowning out your thoughts in an uncanny way. The IV drip was no better, it kept you awake the same way the rhythm of your own blood dripping had. You hadn't even noticed the way your breathing suddenly turned ragged just like it did when—no, you had noticed, but you didn't want to.

It shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did, it was only a few hours, you've been through worse, others have been through worse.

But god, the silence.

"You doing okay there, uh-" A nurse walked in through the curtains, pulling up the clipboard at the end of your bed and reading your name, "I'm just going to administer some painkillers real quick, okay?"

Unconsciously, you nodded and watched in a slight daze as she pulled up a cart of medical supplies. Your hands balled into fists to stop the trembling you weren't even aware of but somehow knew you had to hide. It hadn't quite registered to you what was going on or what she had said, even as you watched her fill up the syringe and flick it. But the moment you felt the needle against your skin, you roughly grabbed her wrist, causing her to yelp and drop it.

Your hands began to tremble again, growing clammy. You became all too aware of how muffled the nurse's panicked words were but how sharp the ringing in your ears was, piercing your brain. Words wouldn't come out of your mouth, replaced with small, quick breaths while your eyes darted around to find something, anything to focus on with your blurred vision.

"At ease, sergeant." A heavily accented voice spoke, ripping you from your haze and you turned to find that familiar skull mask standing by the curtains.

"I... I'm sorry," You mumbled, letting go of the poor woman's wrist and hanging your head apologetically. Your breaths returned to normal, the lights were less bright, and the noise was gone for now.

"I think it's best if you ask the doctor to try other kinds of painkillers with our friend here, miss. They aren't too fond of needles, ain't that right?" Soap appeared behind Ghost, trying to keep things lighthearted with how tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate in. The nurse nervously nodded her head before walking away with the cart, understandably still shaken by what had happened.

"I'd ask if you're doin' okay, but it seems a bit obvious now, ain't it, Ghost?"

The other grunted in response, sitting down at one of the chairs by your side. "You'd think they'd know better with these kinds of things."

"Don't be mean now, they're just doing their jobs," The scotsman chuckled, turning back to you, "Now, aren't you quite the sight for sore eyes? Sorry we couldn't make it earlier, we got tied down with paperwork after the whole fiasco, you know about that yet?"

"Yeah, I didn't expect you guys to get the job done so fast."

"Aw, did you want us to leave you some left over? If I'd known, I would've told Ghost to go a little easier on the lads." Soap was the only one trying to make any conversation out of this visit and you already knew the reason for Ghost's silence. It was just like in the helicopter after you took the blow for him, though you were pretty sure a pun wouldn't be enough to break him from "brooding" like last time.

"Sure. Would've loved to get a few punches back on them," You teased back, "But thank you guys. Really. I know it wasn't the main purpose, but I really appreciate that you guys had my safety in mind. Never figured joining the 141 would come with vengeance perks, or am I just that special to you guys?"

"You little shite, you," Soap cackled, ruffling your hair.

"Looks like they beat us here, Rudy." Alejandro's voice chimed out of the blue, appearing soon after.

"Too bad, I was hoping we'd have them to ourselves," Rodolfo hummed, followed behind with a gift basket in hand, "At least we bought something, eh?"

"Oi! We would've brought something too, we just wanted to get here as soon as we got back." Soap pouted, "Tell 'em Ghost."

"Actually I was hoping to get a 'get well' card on our way here." The masked man mumbled, ignoring his partner's offended gasp.

"You seein' this?" He whined, but you also ignored him, favoring the sweets that were in the gift basket.

"How'd you know this was my favorite?" You gasped, your reaction had the two Vaqueros looking at each other with proud faces.

"I have my sources."

"Ale, you just asked around base."

"That still counts as sources."

The whole lot of you started breaking into conversation, the boys exchanging their accounts of their ambush. In return, you shared what had happened when you were caught and how you escaped in a small summary of events, which led to them ranting about the men they interrogated and about the drugs themselves. Even Roach, Price, and Gaz popped in one last time for the day to visit you and join in on the discussion. Seeing them all like this, gathered around your bed, laughing and bantering, it almost made you forget all that had happened. You wanted to cherish this moment, keep a mental picture of it framed over the locked box in the back of your mind. Being in the military never allowed much room for friends gathering and all this chit-chatting outside of pubs, so it was a rare sight for sore eyes.

In a way, it made your life a little more meaningful. Reminded you that you weren't just a "good soldier", you were a teammate, a friend. You were important, someone worth fighting for. A purpose.

Although the job was harsh and you always felt like you had a gun to your head, that everyone wanted you dead on the battlefield, the 141 always showed you that someone out there still cared, still wanted you to fight and stay alive. Even if life tried to put you six feet under, they'd be there to pull you out without hesitation. You didn't have to doubt or question why, you already knew the answer.

You were family.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn't last for long, the poor nurse from before had been startled by the sheer volume of people around you, especially when most of them were high-ranking. Regardless, she chastised them for keeping you up when you needed your rest (you didn't) and began to shoo them all out. It was almost comedic how the group of giant, intimidating men left with little resistance in a pile of shame. Christ, they look like a pack of sad puppies, you humorously thought to yourself.

Ghost was the last to leave, hesitating to say something by the way he just stood there, curling his hands into fists. You had to force yourself not to laugh right then and there. For someone who was so silent and stoic for most conversations, he was easy to read. It wasn't hard to notice how his eyes kept flickering to your bandages the entire time he sat there, followed by the flashes of concern on his face every time you had coughed from laughing too hard or accidentally hurt yourself by shifting your body too quickly.

"I'll be alright, Simon." Giving him a reassuring smile, you hoped he'd take your words to heart, "Don't worry about it, I'll be on the field right as rain again in two days tops and you can kick my ass around all you want then. Promise."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and you began to worry that maybe your words were too cheap for him to believe, or maybe that he was more upset than you'd originally thought.

"You better be sure." He finally responded, "I take my promises pretty seriously, remember that, sergeant."

You stared at him all googly-eyed until your lips broke into a wide grin, beaming brightly at him and shouting as he left.

"Message received, L.T!"

a/n: AAAA I haven't written this much in so longgg. I had the first half already down from the last part because it went on for too long, but this one is nearly DOUBLE the word count. It's bound to have some grammar mistakes, but I hope that doesn't ruin the immersion too much. Let me know what you guys think!

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

nsfw alphabet with carlos

A is for aftercare - If you like baths, Carlos is 100% running you a bath. He tells you to stay in bed until it’s ready because you deserve to rest after sex, and he’ll come back and carry you when it’s ready. If you insist on a shower instead, he’s getting in with you because he’s going to help you wash your hair… and your body (and he totally has no ulterior motives there ahem). Also, he always steps out of the shower before you so he can wrap you in a towel - he will not let his girl get cold!

B is for body part - Carlos also has a big dick, but he is not shy about it. Like, he’s not one to brag, especially not outside the bedroom, but the first time you see it, he knows you’re gonna like it. As for you, it’s wherever you’ve got curves - bigger tits, bigger ass, bigger thighs, bigger tummy, like he thinks you’re hot, so he wants more of you, duh!

C is for cum - Carlos wants to cum on you, rather than in you. He just thinks you look so hot when you’re covered in his cum. He would totally take a polaroid and keep it with him if you let him (and he would NEVER show it to anyone because he’s a gentleman like that). Although, he does want to have kids (like, a whole football team of children), so if you’re trying for a baby, he will be very into cumming inside you. He has a shorter refractory period in my opinion so if he were to cum first, he could get it up pretty quickly and go again (or he could go down on you - whatever is the best way to make you cum!)

D is for dirty secret - Carlos has had sex in the ocean, but only once. It was a disastrous experience (basically, he got knocked over by a wave and it was just really embarrassing).

E is for experience - Carlos gets around and he doesn’t even mean to, like he’s super respectful to the people he sleeps with but he will do one night stands. He just has a natural charm. He’s the type of guy to actually fuck your mom (rather than to use it as an insult in the fortnite lobby or whatever). 

F is for favorite position - He likes to see your face, so any position where you’re face to face is ideal for him. Unless, you’re having morning sex, and then he wants to cuddle-fuck, like he’s the big spoon and you’re the little spoon.

G is for goofy (serious or silly during sex) - Yes, he 100% can joke around during sex when he’s teasing you, and if you tell him to knock it off because he should be fucking you, not doing a comedy special, you’re basically egging him on.

H is for hair - Naturally hairy, but definitely mansacapes. He did once shave it all off when he was younger and did not like the results so he would not do that again.

I is for intimacy - He will avoid intimacy by charming/joking his way out of it. He tries to keep things light-hearted, but when he falls in love, he falls hard and he’ll naturally start to open up. 

J is for jack off - Less than you’d think. He has a decent sex drive, but he prefers to do it with another person. Just jerking off is kinda boring to him, but he’d do it if he wasn’t in a relationship. 

K is for kink - I think he’s an “I’ll try anything once” type of guy, but I also think he has tried some things and knows that he likes them. While I don’t imagine him being into ddlg, I think he would be into being called “daddy” in the bedroom. He would also be super into having you grind on his thigh. He would praise you, but he would also make you beg to be fucked. 

L is for location -  Probably not a lot outside of the house (I think that’s one thing he’s tried before and wasn’t super into), but inside the house, everything is fair game - bed, couch, shower, kitchen counter, etc.

M is for motivation - Literally anything, but one thing that will always get him going is if you wear lingerie (or honestly anything sexy). Also, if you called him “daddy”, he’d be like “you only say that during sex… so are we going to do that?” (implied: “please”)

N is for no (what he wouldn't do) - While he would tease you, he would be wary about degrading you. He prefers to praise you. Even if you were like “I want you to call me a slut”, he’d probably call you a “good little slut” and say he was proud of you because he just can’t help it.

O is for oral - GIVER. 100%. All day, every day. If you want it, he’ll do it. You: “I had a rough day at work” Carlos: “Do you wanna sit on my face or would you rather lie down and I can eat you out that way?”

P is for pace - I think he’d be the type to increase the pace as you get closer to cumming. He’d rarely want to do it slowly the whole time, unless you’re feeling romantic (cause he can be a romantic guy), then he might just wanna slowly make out in missionary. 

Q is for quickie - Yeah, he’s down for a quickie, especially if there’s no time for a longer session.

R is for risk - I feel like he’d be adventurous in terms of sex positions, but not in terms of location. He’ll try any position though - he’ll bend you over and fuck you from behind, he’ll stand at the edge of the bed and put your legs over his shoulders, he’ll hold you up against a wall with your legs wrapped around him, etc. 

S is for stamina - Insane stamina. If you challenged him to a competition, he would win. I also imagine his refractory period to be pretty low, so if he cums, you can just wait a few minutes and he can go for round 2 (or 3 or 4). 

T is for toys - Definitely enjoys using a vibrator on you. But, I also feel like when he’s alone, he’d see the vibrator on the bedside table and be like “hmm… I wonder what that’d feel like on my dick…” and then he’d just try it. 

U is for unfair (how much he teases) - He does tease, but he’s also quick to give in to begging.

V is for volume - Kind of loud. The type to get noise complaints from the neighbors. Also, he is good at dirty talk (and obviously, he has a sexy voice… “all the ladies love my accent” is a true statement).

W is for wild card (random headcanon) - He wants to make a sextape. He’d never show it to anyone else, but he wants to be able to watch it when he misses you.

X is for x-ray (what's he packin') - It’s big. What else can I say? I think he could be uncut since he wasn’t born in America.

Y is for yearning - He constantly misses you. Will text you to tell you he’s “thinking about you”. Also, phone sex with him would be so good.

Z is for zzz - He can fall asleep pretty quickly. I think he wouldn’t get post-nust clarity, he’d get post-nut head empty, no thoughts.

[yoichichi]

Take It Slow

MINORS DNI

Yuuta Okkotsu x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): established relationship, friends to lovers implied, heavy petting, fingering, masturbation, oral (reader receiving), choking (reader receiving), instance of breath play as a result, slight corruption kink from Yuuta, inexperienced reader, a single instance of slightly mean Yuuta, reader’s chest anatomy is not referenced/described

a/n: first NSFW piece in a VERY long time, was picked from the poll so here you go! hope you all enjoy :)! Also jus wanna say there is NOTHING weird or wrong about being a virgin at any age just so you guys know <33 🫶 also in case it needs to be said, this is an unrealistic portrayal of participating in kink for the first time! Boundaries and safety should be discussed at length before these things, but this is fiction so just wanted to make that clear 😭🤍 anyways enjoy <3

“Yuuta, stop! I don’t wanna talk about it!” You whined and buried your face further into his chest hoping to spare yourself of the embarrassment from the conversation you’re sure the two of you are about to have.

“Sweetheart, I’m your boyfriend, you knew it was gonna come up sooner or later. Besides, you’re literally the one who started the conversation! There’s no way you’re getting out of it now.” He let out a few boyish chuckles as he tried to pry your face away from him and out of the covers, just to see you pressing your lips together and closing your eyes in protest.

Sure, did you figure at some point the fact you haven’t gone farther than holding hands and sharing a few quick pecks was gonna be brought up? Probably. Especially after 4 whole months of being in a relationship? Maybe. Did you think it’d be right now? No! But is it your fault? Unfortunately, yes.

You’d known Yuuta long before the two of you started dating, having been apart of his friend group since freshman year of high school, and you’ve always had a secret crush on your friend. He was kind, never failed to make you smile, charmingly awkward (so charming you almost thought he faked it), & all things endearing. It wasn’t until a few months ago, now in your fourth and final year at University, that the two of you had confessed your feelings for the other. You had a bottle of tequila and Maki to thank for that.

And honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect since. He was still sweeter than ever, a complete gentleman always, and even though it’d only been a couple months he’s never failed to make you constantly feel cared for and appreciated. There was only one problem: how were you supposed to tell him you’ve lied about every instance of you hooking up ever? And you haven’t even done so much as grind on someone, let alone fuck?

Maybe you could blame it on Yuuji, he’s the one who brought it up the first time anyways, innocently teasing you about how “you probably don’t even know how to give head”. He was 16, and all 16 year old boys are stupid as shit - besides Yuuta you suppose - so you’ll forgive him for it.

“Fuck you Yuuji, you’re just saying that cause you’re embarrassed you can’t last longer than 10 seconds inside a girl.”

“That literally happened once, and it was my first time! What, you’re telling me your first time was any better?”

It was just humiliating to think of looking at your friends, who definitely weren’t virgins anymore (besides Toge, maybe Toge, you never really trusted his whole story - but that’s beside the point), and tell them yeah no, I haven’t even seen a dick in person!

“No, he was ass, too.” You did your best to not draw attention to the way your palms were sweating profusely, fighting every instinct in you to wipe them off on the denim of your jeans.

“Yep, fits the bill.” Mai rolled her eyes at the thought of her own experience with a man, must’ve been pretty bad.

It’d make more sense to blame it on your age than Yuuji really, looking back it wouldn’t have been embarrassing for more than a couple weeks at most to have admitted you were a virgin when the matter was pressed. But that’s not what past you thought, and now it’s current you’s problem.

“I know, I know, but now I change my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Your lips are pushed out and puckered slightly from the way Yuuta has your cheeks squished together - his best effort at making you smile right now.

He lets go of your cheeks to squeeze your shoulder gently, looking at your face for a moment before speaking softly.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’d never judge you for anything, make comments, nothing. Swear on it.” His voice dipped low with sincerity as he dramatically “crossed his heart and hoped to die”, it was a little goofy but that’s okay.

It was hard to speak while he was staring down at you like that, you knew he’d be nothing but gentle and kind, but the thought of actually talking about it made your stomach twist ‘n turn.

“Uh”, your voice trembled more than you’d like to admit and it did nothing to help your nerves, “I guess I asked what you’d do if I lied about not being a virgin cause, I’m, like, a virgin. Yeah.” You might’ve stumbled through your sentence, but you got there eventually.

His hand continued to rub circles on your skin as he spoke, “Well, I kind of figured that much when you first asked that, cause why else would you. Is that all you wanted to tell me though?”

Glancing up to meet his eyes, you were confused, visibly confused. Was that it? Was he really not gonna pester about why you lied, when you lied, or why you’re grown and still a virgin?

You squinted your eyes and hummed quietly, unreasonably suspicious of him - which he could clearly see.

Rolling his eyes playfully, he groaned out your name and pulled your face close to his so you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to.

“Ya know, I was kind of talking about the first question you asked me. The one before you cut me off and changed the subject with the whole ‘I’m a virgin thing.’ I want to talk to you about that.”

You’re sure you were listening, it’s just that his face was so close to you that his breath was intermingling with yours, and you could practically taste the gum he was chewing while studying earlier. Not only that but his eyelashes were so pretty and doll like from this angle, looking up at him with his hands still on your cheeks. And his hands were so warm and soft - or was your face warm?

“Are you really ignoring me right now?” He wondered where your mind wandered to, cause clearly with the way you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes and invisible stars circling around your head - you couldn’t have been listening to him.

“Huh?”

Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening to him.

“Baby, are you okay with talking about what you asked me earlier? It’s okay if the answer is no.” His eyes were glued to your face as your own darted around the room.

You wanted to speak up but your throat was dry and your face was hot, and honestly it felt like your jaw was wired shut; a simple nod will have to do.

It felt like the room was getting smaller at the lack of a response from Yuuta until you felt him lean just a tad closer and gently press his lips to your cheek, “would you rather me show you how I take care of myself, or tell you?”

Oh.

Goosebumps rose along the back of your neck and down your arms at the soft volume of his voice in your ear and the way his breath fanned across your cheek.

“Both, please.” The tenor of your voice matched his as your hands fiddled nervously with the hem of your shirt, unsure what to with them while he moved to give you a kiss and sit up in front you.

The embarrassment of how you asked Yuuta how to give a hand job from earlier began to fade and be replaced with curiosity and eagerness at the sight of Yuuta reaching down to palm at himself.

It was still embarrassing, staring so shamelessly at his growing bulge in obvious intrigue and desire, but it was Yuuta, and Yuuta would never make you feel bad for having human urges and wanting him in this way.

Hesitantly, once he was ready, he tugged at the fabric of his pajama pants until he was fully exposed. He was happy you were so needy and awe struck at the sight of him, because your undivided attention to the way his cock sits in his hand is making him blush.

He spreads his legs just as much as the stretch of his bottoms let him while he dips forward to drip spit in the direction of his lap, his wrist catching the fabric of his shirt and exposing a tease of his lower stomach as he spreads the spit along the length of his cock. Leaning back into a more comfortable position, you take in the way he’s exposed himself to you, his stomach visibly clenching as he rubs his thumb along the slit at the tip of his cock.

It was firm in his hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together from where you sat watching at the vulgarity of it all. His loud and unashamed whimpering, his leaking and twitchy cock, and the way his eyes were never closed, always watching your face, when you would flick your own up to get a peek at his reactions.

You thought maybe he’d be a little more bashful, slow and careful with what he wanted to show you, but if anything, it seems like he’s been waiting for you to ask.

“You like watching me stroke my cock, hm baby?”

Your clit began to throb at the sudden recognition and reminder that you’re involved just as much as he is, as well as the sound of him speaking, and speaking directly at you.

“Answer me angel, even a nod’s okay. Wanna make sure my baby’s feeling good.” His voice was hoarse, but soft, and the sentiment did nothing more than increase your arousal and send butterflies rampant in your stomach.

Settling further into the situation, and gaining some confidence in return, you make your way over to him slowly as you nod your head.

“Want you to tell me, Yuuta.” Your voice is small, quiet.

“Tell you what, pretty?”

He’s got an air of fake innocence around him as he speaks but you couldn’t care less when you’re so close that you can hear his soft and barely audible panting, and smell the light scent of musk and sweat begin to gather along his clothed skin from his excitement and exertion. You’d give him anything he wants at this point, and you’re certain he knows it.

“Yuuta,”, you whine and move in his direction, hovering over his lap with his cock not quite close enough to press against your covered cunt as he strokes himself, “want you to tell me how it feels.”

The pair of you groan together at the lewdness of it all, both of you reveling in the freedom to finally explore your deep attraction for another, no longer embarrassed or fearful to admit or indulge in it.

“Fuck, feels so good baby. ‘M so hard with you watching me like this. You like knowing you’ve got me and my cock this needy without even touching me?” Whining at his response, you lean into him and sloppily place your lips on his, ignoring the urge to smack him on his chest as he chuckles a, “yeah?”, into your mouth at your eagerness.

You both kiss, messy and loud, as you reach and drag your hand down his torso, lightly drawing circles onto Yuuta’s exposed lower stomach with your fingertips.

A strained groan comes from him at the sensation, sighing into your mouth as he sits up to be impossibly closer to you. It was all too much.

He could feel the heat from your body as your thighs squeeze him from each side, hear the crude noises your pussy makes each time you adjust, and he could just imagine how needy your poor cunt would smell. Feeling his stomach tighten and his head get cloudy, he knew he was close, and he wanted you to watch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come baby.” Yuuta’s lips were soft and slick with spit as he spoke against yours, while you felt a hand slide from the back of your neck up to the top of your head, turning you to face down and stare at the way his fist was feverishly tugging at his cock.

“Want my sweetheart to watch how hard they’re gonna make me come, how good they’re taking care of me and my cock.” His voice was strained and low, out of breath, and if you weren’t desperate to watch his cock get some release, you would have protested at the sudden lack of kissing.

“Please, need you to show me baby.” You whined and wrapped your hand around Yuuta’s wrist gently, moving in time with the way he was stroking himself.

Hearing your voice was all he needed to let himself go, throwing his head back and getting his sternum sticky with cum as it stained his t-shirt. His balls and cock twitched as he slowed down his movements, whining when he rubs the tip once more, not wanting it to be over. If it wasn’t for the way you were still hovering over his lap, he would’ve let himself stay like this for a while longer, catching his breath and resting his eyes.

But he could see how bad you needed him, your chest heaving and your body hot against his.

Pulling you into his chest, he speaks against your shoulder softly between gentle kisses, “Want me to take care of you too, baby?”

Your body jolts at the prospect, nerves riddling your muscles and your stomach, making you feel almost weak. The thought made you self-conscious just as much as it made you feel exhilarated, but you couldn’t deny the way your cunt was throbbing and hot. You needed him bad, and you could trust Yuuta. You always could.

Words were too hard, like they often were with him in intimate moments like this (the thought of your first date briefly crosses your mind), so you substitute a pleading “yes” for another messy, longing kiss.

“I got you angel,”, was all he said before you were leaned back on the pillows, Yuuta hovering above you with soft wisps of his hair tickling the sides of your face.

You knew you could trust Yuuta, he always knows what his baby needs.

Delicate fingers graze across your side until they reach the waist band of your bottoms, running back and forth along the top as Yuuta chuckles softly at the way your stomach twitches, waiting for a sign of permission.

A warm hand tugging Yuuta’s in the direction of your heat is all he needs before sliding his hand between your thighs to rub heavy and slow circles onto your clit beneath your shorts.

“Oh, god.” You breathe out and close your eyes, letting him take his time in making you feel good.

Your hole ached every time he dipped a finger down to tease your entrance, gathering more of your arousal to rub into your puffy clit. He was such a tease even when he didn’t mean to be, couldn’t he tell you needed him inside? Can’t he imagine how empty your poor hole feels? Doesn’t he know how often you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers or favorite toy, imagining it’s really him inside instead?

“Yuuta.”

The desperate call of his name makes his stomach flip, eyes quickly searching across your face for a sign of discomfort, “‘M here baby, what do you need?”

Sitting up slowly, your face stops inches from his as you shimmy your way out of your bottoms. Laying back down, you open your legs wide and spread your pussy for Yuuta to see, another hand rubbing at your clit slowly.

“‘S too empty, baby.” You fight back the hot wave of embarrassment that floods your body at your crudeness and use all your will power to stay still, cunt on full display, as you watch Yuuta’s breath quicken and his hand snake down to tug at his cock again despite the slight sensitivity he’s still feeling.

He doesn’t give you much time to linger on your sheepishness before you’re tugged further down the bed by the grip he takes on both of your thighs, his tongue impatiently shoved into your mouth with a loud whimper. You both stay like this a little while longer than you would have liked, his tongue running along the inside of your mouth before he has yours between his lips, switching between sucking on it loudly and licking at the saliva that drips down onto your chin.

God, he was so dirty.

Unable to beg for more, you attempt to wrap your legs up and around his midsection, hoping he’ll catch the hint, but instead you’re stopped by a firm placement of his hand on your inner thigh.

“‘Scuse me, beautiful.” His voice is hoarser than before as he speaks softly against your neck, leaving hasty kisses on any exposed skin while scooting down the bed, landing with his face between your legs.

You could have cried when you felt his tongue poke and prod at your hole, pushing in and moaning loudly before licking long and slow up to your clit. His tongue flicks back and forth as he keeps your lips spread with one hand, deciding to then take his time licking and dragging his tongue between every fold before coming back to suck on your clit.

A strangled groan vibrates deep within your chest as you tug on his hair to bring him impossibly closer to your cunt, as if he needed to devour you whole, while you no longer fought the way your hips were grinding down and writhing beneath Yuuta’s grip. It’s not until you finally feel a finger push inside, slender and slow, that you begin to incoherently beg and whine for more.

It doesn’t take many half-spoken pleas for him to get the idea you need more.

“Ah, Yuuta!” You whimper and internally battle between trying to squirm away and press yourself even further into his mouth, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his two fingers inside pumping in and out of you with his mouth nipping and sucking at your clit.

He sits up, kneeling between you to watch the way you take what he’s giving you.

“Yeah?”, his voice is uncharacteristically cocky and out of breath, “Feels good, baby?”

He was going to be the death of you.

If it wasn’t for the way Yuuta was placed between your thighs, your efforts to clamp them shut would be working. It was all too much, but so fucking good.

“Ah- fuck, oh, oh my god - Yuuta please make me come. Wanna come so bad!” You arch your back and attempt to sit up to reach him, needing him closer, but a hand on your chest pushes you back down and slides up until it rests wrapped around your throat.

“Mmm, I’ll give it to you baby, just want you stay right there. Wanna see what you look like when I make you finish for the first time.” His hand wasn’t holding tight, it was merely keeping you in your spot beneath him, but you wanted him to grab you tighter.

With a shaky hand, you reached to hold onto his wrist like your life depended on it,

“Please choke me.”

His fingers stopped curling into you for maybe a second before he continued, his mouth parting slightly as a gentle moan fell from his lips.

Did you really just ask him that?

You closed your eyes in bliss when he squeezed gently, instinctually doing your best to grind down onto his hand, but it wasn’t enough.

“T-tighter, please.”

It took everything in you to open your eyes and see his reaction, a slight amount of shame building up in your stomach for requesting something that felt so dirty - but all embarrassment fizzled out where it sat when you saw the way he was staring down at you.

Nothing was said as he squeezed you tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Tap me twice if it’s too much.” You’re not sure when he leaned down to speak lowly to you, but his breath fanning across the side of your neck and face sends chills down your body.

You’re so lost in the pleasure of it all you can only nod when he takes your hand to show you exactly how he wants you to tap against his wrist if you can’t take it anymore.

He sits back up and smiles to himself as he takes you in. You look so.. so.. so pathetic like this. And what, all because he’s got two of his fingers fucking your pussy? Cause he’s the first person to ever make you feel this way?

The latter thought makes his dick twitch and pick up the pace of his fingers until even you can register the crude squelching coming from between your thighs. Thankfully for you, you’re too full of bliss to care - fuck you were so close, and he knows it, too.

Your eyes shoot open when his grip is tightened even more, making it so you can only take in shallow and shaky breaths.

“Gonna have to come around my fingers if you want me to loosen up.” It wasn’t a question of how much you could take, it was a matter of how far you wanted him to go to make you see stars. And apparently this was it with the way he could feel you clench around him at his words, your thighs starting to thrash and shake.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty. My dirty little cunt, huh?” His voice was so misleadingly soft. His register was still high, slightly whiny, but you knew it was all to mock you and your fucked out state. If anything, Yuuta was the one being so dirty, and you were thankful for it.

It was hot, so hot, and you could hear your heart pounding in your head, and you could feel how tight you were clenching around his fingers.

Unable to fight off the feeling and attempt to last a second longer, your body shook as you came hard around Yuuta’s fingers, your nails digging into the forearm of the hand still wrapped around your throat. He kept it there for a brief few moments into your orgasm before letting go to immediately bring his fingers down to your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm for as long as you could handle.

The first full breath you took was loud and followed by an even louder mantra of thank you’s and please��s. It took a soft and slow kiss from Yuuta to quiet your whimpers, and warm, and undeniably semi-sticky hands, rubbing tenderly into your thighs and arms.

You both stayed like that for a while, Yuuta above you with his hands rubbing your muscles carefully, kissing slow and catching your breath while sharing gentle sentiments of love and reassurance. Much to your surprise, you were the first to speak a full sentence as you both relaxed into a more comfortable position.

“Ya know”, your voice had a slight hoarseness to it now, most likely from your earlier activities, “I don’t think I like knowing someone else has gotten to see you like this.”

He brings his head up to rest on his palm with a crooked smile, leaning forward until his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke,

“Yeah? You the jealous type baby?”

This time, you did smack him. And hard.

“Ow?” Yuuta pouts, pretending to be appalled, and rubs circles into his chest as if you had actually smacked him hard enough to feel like anything more than a friendly pat.

His request for an apology is brushed off and amended with a kiss, from which you receive no protest, as you sink further into the comfort of his embrace and, now dirty but once very clean, sheets.

“How about we clean up n get some rest, okay baby?” He sounds distant and quiet when he speaks, his heartbeat louder in your ears than his voice with your head pressed into his chest.

Sighing and shaking his head, he leans down to kiss the top of your head with a small smile. Laundry and a shower can wait a few more minutes if it means he gets to have you like this for even a little bit longer.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @alert-arlert (I think you asked to be tagged in this??? If not I’m sorry !! This was like a literal year ago I started this so 😭🫶) @touyaz (only cause you liked the snippet 🤭) if you’d like to be added just lemme know!!

[bellabrady]

Why many people dislike Tommy Kinard

Listen, I don't like to try and dictate what characters others can like. However, I do find it concerning how quick so many people are to forgive a bigot who didn't even get a proper redemption. So, especially for those who simply don't really remember Tommy, here's a quick recap of him:

Let's start with Chimney Begins. Tommy is one of the firefighters at the 118 when Chimney becomes part of the team. The first thing Tommy says when Chim arrives is 'Hey Eli, did you forget to tip the delivery guy?' On its own, this isn't really bad, because it could very much just be a harmless joke. But in combination with Tommy's behavior throughout the rest of the episode, one could argue the comment has racist undertones. But this one's up to interpretation so let's move on.

Although not explicitly stated, it's very obvious the 118 captain is racist which is reflected in the way he treats him: he only lets him do annoying chores, is a jerk towards him, actively isolates him, and so on.

The rest of the team, including Tommy, does nothing to try and change this. In fact, they actively take part in isolating him too, for example by letting him sit by himself at a tiny table instead of the group table while they eat. Even when Chimney attempts to talk to them, everyone but Eli (the paramedic who ends up training Chim) blatantly ignores him.

One time, Chim and Tommy are alone in the locker room and Chim says: "Hey man, let's build a bridge here." Tommy doesn't even react. Chim keeps making suggestions of things they could talk about, like movies or sports, to which Tommy still doesn't react except by rolling his eyes. Chim then asks: "You just really don't like me much, do you?" and Tommy responds: "If I thought about you at all, honestly, I probably wouldn't."

Mind you, he doesn't even know Chimney and yet he's pretty sure he wouldn't like him. What exactly is he basing that on? Race, perhaps? (Tommy is very close to some other guys on the team by the way.)

Eli tells Chim that the treatment isn't personal and that the reason everyone is so distant is because in this job, friends die and that the team isn't just gonna give Chim their friendship until they earn his respect. "You don't name a puppy until you know it's gonna pull through."

In my opinion this is absolute bullshit though. You cannot tell me every single probie at the 118 has been treated this way for weeks (maybe months? I don't remember exactly). Also, keeping someone at a distance doesn't mean you have to treat them like literal dirt. It's also worth mentioning that once the captain, Tommy and his best friend leave the 118, no probie seems to ever be treated this way again. So if it's about the nature of the job, why wasn't it like this for everyone? So, despite what Eli said, I think Chim's treatment was definitely caused by racism.

Eventually, Chimney is finally allowed out on calls and risks his life to save Tommy's, which basically makes Tommy go: "Oh hey! Maybe I could treat this guy like a human being?" He thanks him for saving his life and from this point on they're friends. I don't know about you guys, but personally I think someone who doesn't see it fit to treat you like a person until you save their life doesn't seem like a very great guy.

Let's move on to Hen Begins. The 118 is still under the same captain, who is also a misogynist. Unlike the racism, this isn't only implied but confirmed.

I've seen people argue that Tommy can't be blamed for not standing up to his captain because that's his boss. And yet, when the captain says "This is our new diversity hire" about Hen, Chimney says, "You know, Cap, there's another way to say that," which immediately proves that Tommy could stand up to him as well, and simply doesn't have the guts.

They treat Hen similarly to the way they treated Chim. Tommy, along with everyone else but Chim, for example throws some gear on the ground before Hen's feet so she takes care of it, not saying so much as a single word to her in the process.

Chim tries to make conversation with Hen and says "I would've bet money that you were from the east coast, you just kinda have that vibe." Hen laughs and says "Thank you for the compliment?" to which Tommy replies: "New York bitchiness is a compliment?"

He doesn't even know Hen and she's done nothing that could be seen as 'bitchy.' Just some good ol' fashioned misogyny. Chim also recognizes that comment for what it is immediately because he goes "woah, woah, nobody said anything like that, come on." Tommy only huffs in annoyance as a response.

The captain then goes on a rant about how training female firefighters is a waste of money and Chim once again stands up for Hen, unlike everybody else, including Tommy, who just lets the misogyny stand.

It isn't until Hen rescues someone on a call that Tommy and his friend admit they wouldn't have found in time, that they finally treat her like a person. You'd think they'd have learned from Chimney that maybe people shouldn't need to prove themselves to you in order for you to treat them like a human being, but apparently not.

Ultimately, the team submits complaints against the captain and supports Hen but if you ask me, this should've happened a lot sooner and not only after they deemed her worthy.

And that's pretty much all we see of Tommy, except for some short scenes in Bobby Begins Again in which he just interacts with his team until he leaves for a different station at the end of the episode. There's no redemption, no proper apology and, if you ask me, considering the fact that he treated Hen the same as Chim, there's also no development.

And yet there are people who will defend this man with their lives as if 90% of his screentime wasn't him being a bigot or at best a coward without the guts to stand up to his bigoted captain.

So yes, personally I think liking Tommy Kinard is weird.

[ruxined]

header by me !

cw : afab r , making out / hickies , mention of saliva once at the end , like 2 curse words , slight implied sex .

e: ellie and r are paired up for a chem project,however things get a more organic reaction

(this is my first fic lmk how it is and some tips if you’d like <3)

You looked around admiring the house as you stood at the porch.It was a pretty normal house honestly and not far from yours,You remember reading the text Ellie sent you before you walked to Her house.

“just knock when you’re here,it’s just gonna be us because i’m home alone for a couple days”

So you did, you knocked and about 2 minutes later Ellie came to the door,dressed in a grey wifebeater tank and some black sweatpants. She leaned slightly on the doorframe , looking you over for a quick second.

“hey, come in”

She said in a quiet monotone but welcoming voice, maybe She was just feeling you out.

You both went inside and up towards Her room,Her house was adorned in timeless and classic decor with pictures of Her and an Older man framed on some of the walls,you just assumed it was Her Father or something.

“this is my room..you can sit and put your stuff anywhere”

She grabs a messy group of papers and Her phone from her desk.

You nod and put your bag down on the floor infront of her bed,sitting on the edge hanging your legs off.Her room was filled with posters and little figurines, some with space related items or dinosaurs. It seemed like She was the nerdy type with a special interest in that kinda stuff even in class.. but You of course, found it cute.

Ellie set up her papers and supplies for the project on her bed,hiking her legs up and sitting across from you on her bed,slightly leaned against the headboard. Her arms flexed with each movement and you tried to keep yourself focused on the task at hand,gently feeling the soft navy blue sheets under you.

“..did you need anything before we start..? ..like food or a snack?”

She tilted her head to the side,Auburn streaks gently fanning her cheeks.

you

“no i’m alright..thanks though”

She nods,starting to write down stuff on her paper. You and ellie talked a handful of times but usually just always ended up paired together in projects or assignments.She couldn’t complain though.. She had always found you pretty attractive and was naturally comfortable around you and just didn’t wanna seem weird or something.

You both started to complete the project, just some chemicals , periodic table blah blah blah.You just couldn’t stop looking at her gorgeous freckles that littered her tanned skin just right, and the way she looked up at you with her greenish hazel puppy eyes, or how her hands were so perfect and how you wonder what her fingers would feel-

“hey..you okay? you’re like..zoning out”

She moves a hair from your face,trying to read your expression.

“yeah u-uhm i’m good! sorry i was just thinking.”

You quickly attempt to poorly hide the fact that you were just caught casually gawking at your study partner.

“right..”

She says softly as she writes down another chemical name.

You both eventually start talking more and getting settled. Ellie is silently noticing how you’re constantly staring at Her lips and how her toned lean muscles flex while she stretches after writing with her pencil.

“..and they have…”

You drag on the sentence, looking up to see Ellie leaning up on the headboard, her tank top riding up barely enough to show her v line.She seemed so clueless and chill but also somehow knew..?

And she did.

“they have…?”

Ellie asks curiously in regards to your unfinished sentence.

“…come right on me.”

It just slipped. You almost didn’t correct yourself because you didn’t realize how outrageous you sounded,Ellie’s facial expressions reminded you quickly.

“what?-

“fuck i meant camaraderie…like they had really good-”

Ellie looks you over for a moment, blinking.

“are you eyefucking me right now or something?”

You freeze in embarrassment. Assuming she probably thinks you’re a weirdo pervert trying to just stare at her instead of studying.

You wouldn’t turn the offer down though.

“no i- im sorry i didn’t-

Ellie leans forward a little closer to you,her eyes flickering down to your parted lips before back up at you in amusement.

“tell me what you want.. like what you actually want.”

You can almost feel her breath on your lips.her eyes gazed into yours and you felt like you could get lost in them forever.You knew you couldn’t lie to her.

“..kiss me..please”

You whined, it came out more breathless than you thought it would and you started to feel the room getting hotter.

Ellie wasted no time gently pressing her plush salmon colored lips onto yours,gently sucking your bottom lip before gently kitten licking it,a silent ask for entrance. She leaned over a little more to get on top of you to kiss you deeper,her hands found their way onto your hips and then your cheeks again,then playing with little strands of your hair. She ran her hands along your body as if she was trying to remember every inch of you,like you’d dissolve in a minute.

“..this is okay right?..we can keep going. if you want.”

Ellie whispered,her warm breath gently hitting the shell of your ear,the faint noise of the chemistry papers falling off the bed was quickly forgotten.

“yeah”

You whisper back.She starts kissing your neck and leaving small marks by your collarbone , nipping at your neck oh so gently while taking her time to find those soft spots that made you feel heat pooling in your lower stomach.

“you’re so beautiful”

She mumbled,wiping the mix of hers and your saliva mixed with your lipgloss / chapstick on the side of your lip,gently pushing you back onto the bed.

let’s just say , you and ellie have really good bed chem.

© All rights belong to ruxined , you may not copy , translate , repost , modify or plagiarize any of my material.