#i got the first part of this scene mostly done. just a half hour left of work

[orcelito]

Still hoping to get the chapter done today

Maybe I should get smth to eat to encourage myself...

[lafiametta]

Just saw Anora and got so obsessed w Igor its not funny i need to see more posts about him 😭😭😭😭

Igor’s on such a journey and I love it.

Can you imagine: it’s your birthday and you get a call from the Armenian guy you work for to pick him up at a baptism so you both can check on his boss’s boss’s rich-ass useless son and see if he has or has not married a prostitute. You understand the job — look tough, provide a little muscle if the situation calls for it — and once it’s done you can go return your grandmother’s car from where you borrowed it and visit with her for an hour or so before maybe heading out for a lowkey night to celebrate.

Instead, the rich-ass useless son runs away and you end up having to make sure the girl he married — who takes great offense to being called a prostitute, by the way — doesn’t take off too, and because she won’t stop throwing things and hitting you in the face and screaming you don’t know what else to do except restrain her with a phone cord.

And then she bites you and breaks the Armenian’s nose even as you’ve got her in a hold on top of you.

It’s not exactly what Igor had in mind for the day, is all I’m saying.

As an audience, we also get our expectations turned on their head: Igor, who at first just seems like your standard Slavic hired goon, turns out to have a heart of gold, or at least a soft spot just big enough for a beautiful, foul-mouthed erotic dancer with an impressive left hook. (Although he’s no slouch either, considering how he wields that aluminum bat.) There’s something about her that he really likes, even from the beginning, and you can see him looking out for her and trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to make up for what he did to her back at the house.

I think he admires her brashness, and the way she’s determined to fight for the Cinderella dream that a life with Ivan promised her. In both the courtroom scene and on the tarmac with Ivan’s mother he secretly smiles as he listens to her argue and threaten, even against people far wealthier and more powerful.

(There also seems to be a class element, at least where her conflict with the Zakharovs are concerned. Igor probably doesn’t love the fact that he’s employed by these rich assholes and Ani saying that she’s going to take half their money has him silently cheering her on, because, yeah, fuck them. And when Galina Zakharov winks at him after threatening Ani’s whole existence, he has to look away in shame, because he still works for them, and they think that means they own him.)

I’d love to know when he decides to steal the ring from Toros. Maybe at some point on the plane, after he can see that part of her has given up. It’s a brilliant display of rebellion, made even better by the fact that he waits until the very last minute to give it to her. (Would we have heard all that shit about “hunchback weirdos” and “rape eyes” if he had surprised her with it the first moment they were alone? But Igor is secure enough to take all her insults, and probably likes the fact that she feels safe enough to keep roasting him again and again. “Touché, motherfucker?” she says, and all he can do is giggle.)

Which brings us to the car scene.

The ring is an act of atonement, something to make up for what she’s been through over the past two days — some of which he knows he’s responsible for — and one last fuck you to the family that humiliated her. Igor thinks he’s evening the score before he says goodbye, not realizing that Ani sees it as a gesture she needs to pay back to keep feeling like she’s in control. So she gives him what she thinks he wants — what all men want from her.

Igor’s an adaptive, street-smart guy, but he wasn’t prepared for what she ends up doing. He doesn’t resist, though, taking initiative only once she’s fully on top of him and then just to take her face in his hands. Does some part of him know this is transactional? Does some part of him want it to be real the way Ani wanted Ivan to be real? He wants to pretend at least, and tries to kiss her, only for Ani it’s too real, too much, and she’ll fight to make it stop, like she fights for so many things in her life. But the emotions bubble up anyway, and even through the haze of sex Igor can see she’s in pain, so he pulls her in close and lets her cry, steady and silent as the sobs wrack her body like waves.

It’s a scene that neatly mirrors the one from the living room — him holding her as she’s on top of him — now cast as an expression of vulnerability and care rather than fear and aggression. He’s always been strong enough to hold her, but it’s only at the very end that Ani is willing to be held.

[besthimbomachine]

my love when it counted. 09

summary: With Wrestle Kingdom done both you and Kenny return to your daily lives. Now no longer in a cold war with each other backstage you both grow closer, becoming friends getting used to each other's presence as part of your routines. So, when Kenny's injuries flare back up, forcing him out of the ring again, you use a match close to his home as your chance to drop by for a visit. pairing: kenny omega x reader word count: 8424 warning: the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, smut (oral male receiving) kenny said ps5 and chill but he got much more than just chill. so, as per usual, I had to break this chapter in two, so today's chapter is half plot half smut, chapter 10 will be mostly smut. but it's a good thing it means I have more freedom to make the smut better and to put in a little scene after the smut I was thinking of cutting off. fun fact is this chapter is kinda based on experience seeing as I started hooking up with my boyfriend when I dropped by his home one day to watch anime. it wasn't the first time I went there, but it was the first time we got a bit high alone together.

09.

The days following Wrestle Kingdom and that fateful trip to Japan proceeded slowly, almost as if nothing had happened. Kenny tried hard to convince himself nothing did, fighting to forget your words, reminding himself constantly that you were drunk and probably wouldn’t even remember them. Different from your previous flight, for your trip back you weren’t on the same plane as Kenny. He was left spending the long hours of the flight with his own thoughts, and he found himself missing your presence, and worrying about how he knew you didn’t like such long trips by plane. You were like a ghost in his mind, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of your presence.

Just as he landed at the airport after his flight, Kenny was surprised to find a message from you on his phone. Your trip had been just a couple of hours shorter than his, so you were already at home, checking up to see how he was doing. The two of you weren’t in the same hotel, and both of your flights had been in the morning, so you didn’t really have much of a chance to see each other after the party. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, seeing the message brought a warmth to his heart, smile spreading from ear to ear. He told himself it was foolish to let such a small thing bring so much joy to his heart, but the damn organ refused to listen.

You two keep in touch after the trip, and in a couple of days you tell him that the doctor had decided to still keep you two weeks away after your return to the US. Though Kenny was happy to see you rest and heal, at the end of these two weeks he couldn’t hide from himself how much he had been missing you. The last time you had both been in a show together was before the Christmas party - back when you couldn’t even look each other in the eye. In a way, this made things seem somewhat unreal for Kenny, like the past few weeks had been a dream, like the next time he saw you backstage it would all be back to what it was before.

But his fears never materialize. When the time comes and you two meet again at a show, reality finally crashes down upon him, and for the first time Kenny gets to watch one of your matches without hiding in some lost corner backstage. Seeing you back was beautiful, your power and ferocity in full display, like a storm crashing with thunderous force. An experience made even better now that he could finally go and congratulate you after the match. Finally free to bask in the light you shone.

With time, Kenny started to get more at ease in your presence. You’d ride with them to the airport and hotel, seeing as you usually took the exact same flight as Nick and Matt, often eating with them after shows, and at times you’d have the hotel breakfast with them too. On some weeks, you’d spend the night before the show with them, though you were usually doing something with one of the girls. It was weird, after so many years having you around like this, but it was a type of weird he could get used to.

Outside the shows you kept in touch with him too, at the start it was just messages, but soon enough you’d be playing games together when you had free time. He had almost forgotten that part, the small things that brought him joy, the simple things you did together for fun all these years ago. He had always liked playing games with you, whichever one you chose - and he had missed it, god, in those awful first days he missed these things the most. To have this back now, even if things weren’t the same, was a gift he never imagined he’d get.

As the days went you started growing closer, all the shared interests and personality quirks that had brought you together before now bringing you into a friendship Kenny felt lucky to have. Though, he couldn’t deny, sometimes in the dark of the night, when he sat alone in his room, that friendship still brought a bittersweet pang to his heart. Like the memory of a taste that stubbornly lingers on his lips. One that he could suppress at most times, but that came crashing down on others with the power of a tidal wave. 

There were some days when Nick and Matt wouldn’t have breakfast with him at the hotel, but you still did anyway. Some days when you’d spend the night before a show with him, going out to eat or playing games together. There were even some days when you’d let him be the one to help you prepare for a match, in these few rare days he’d feel like he could touch the sun and get away unburnt. Though his heart still knew the weight it carried, dragging him back to the ground whenever he got to see Adam being the one helping you with that. It hurt, but Kenny knew he had to push that pain back.

So despite the weight of his feelings and the way he felt his heart falter near you, he enjoyed what he had. The hotel breakfasts and car rides together. The joys you shared over video games and eating out. Laughing together again, congratulating you after a win and offering support after a loss, and getting the same things from you. And there were even times when you were together outside of work. Whenever Matt or Nick came to visit Kenny at his home, sometimes they’d bring you, since you lived so close to them. He had so much now that he never imagined he ever could have. Then why did his heart still insist on wanting more?

And as the weeks turned into months, passing slowly by him, Kenny learned to focus on just cherishing what he could have while suppressing his true feelings for you. Suppressing the burn in his mind when he saw Adam around you, and the pain in his chest that had the annoying habit of always coming back up. And it worked - well enough at least - you two working together and spending time together without problems. There was a sense of peace there, one Kenny had yearned for so long that not even his damn heart could take away.

Over the months, spending time around you during the shows had become a routine for Kenny, one that even without noticing he had gotten attached to. So, when his back injuries flared up again and he was forced to spend time at home, already in the first few days he found himself yearning for your presence. His worries about the injuries and the pain they caused was bad enough, but there was also this weird aching emptiness in not being near you, not having your presence around, even if just a little. It was a cruel joke his hopeless heart was playing on him.

The one thing Kenny wasn’t expecting, however, was for you to be booked for a show that would be happening near his home. He first learned about that from you, and when he saw the message, he wished he could make time move faster. The days seeming to drag on slowly around him. He planned to be there, at the show, to at least see you for a bit and watch your match. Though, as the day came closer, he got a message from you, saying you, Nick and Matt were planning on arriving there a day before everyone, so they could spend some time with Kenny. That was a welcomed surprise, one that warmed his heart in these troubling moments.

But it wasn’t the only surprise. The day before your flight, he got a call from Matt, who apologized continuously after telling Kenny that he and Nick had some problems to solve and wouldn’t be able to take the flight earlier, but that he had urged you to go at least. From Nick, all he got was a one sentence text saying he was sorry they weren’t gonna be able to show up at his house with you. Then immediately followed up with one single line. ‘She’s still going, tho’. So when you showed up at his door alone, it wasn’t a surprise, but fuck, Kenny’s heart still jumped the same way.

Part of you wanted to get angry when Matt and Nick bailed on you, but you couldn’t blame them for problems outside their control, and you knew they wouldn’t have given up so close to the flight without a good reason. Nick was still kind enough to find time to drive you to the airport, and pretty quickly you had arrived at your destination, passing by the hotel to leave your things before you could head out to Kenny’s place. Though, you couldn’t help but remember that the last time you visited the place, you were drunk and humiliated by your own stupid decisions. Just thinking about that brought you a headache - but you couldn’t deny that despite everything, that terrible night ended up serving a good purpose.

You got to Kenny’s home early in the afternoon, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt two sizes too large, carrying enough food for about four people - or in this case, you and him. Sure, if Matt and Nick had been here you’d have dressed a bit better, if anything just to avoid Matt’s surprisingly powerful judgmental stare. But they weren’t, so you were free to wear lazy clothes. Besides, Kenny, and his home, had already seen you at your worst - drunk and defeated - so in hindsight he probably wouldn’t care. The plan was to head over there, eat whatever junk food you’d picked up on your way, watch a movie, play whatever new game he had and head back to the hotel before it got too late. Not really some special occasion.

When you got there you were happy to see Kenny doing better, while you were eating he told you he had a check-up for later that week, and he was expecting the doctor to give him the ok to go back to wrestling. This was fantastic news, not only because you had felt Kenny’s absence backstage, but also because you knew the pain and anxiety of having old injuries flaring up. Every now and again you’d feel the pain returning to the spot in your spine where you had the surgery, and every time it happened you had to face the reality that your body had a limit, one you’d have to face. But while you had made peace with that, you weren’t quite so sure if Kenny had come around to that just yet. 

As the afternoon went on, things moved with a tranquility and ease that brought a much needed peace to Kenny’s anxious mind. Being alone in that house had been almost driving him mad as much as the injury itself - he did have plenty of contact with people through other means, but he missed having someone around. And having you around was even better. Sure, the minute he saw you outside the door his heart skipped a beat, you were beautiful, and your smile was brighter than the sun, melting his heavy heart in the span of a second. But it didn’t take long for your presence to seem like it always belonged there, just like it had back on that night after the Christmas party.

You had brought food - and a couple of beers for yourself - so you two ate together, chatting along as you did so. While you ate, you asked him about his injury, seeming genuinely worried about Kenny’s health. Which, he wouldn’t deny, warmed his chest to no end. When he told you he would probably get an ok to return to the ring by next week, he could have sworn your smile seemed a bit brighter. To see the worry in your eyes had him soft, heart easily shaken by even the smallest of gestures. After eating, you two watched a few things on the TV and just overall had a good time.

A few times Kenny caught himself staring, eyes lingering on your smile, the way your eyes creased when you laughed, following the curves of your body as you moved. He had been trying to keep his heart in check, as if he could hold the damn organ in his hand and force it to behave normally around you. But the smooth sound of your voice and the sweet smell of your perfume made it hard for him to keep his composure.

By the time evening rolled about, you two had moved on to playing video games already. At first, you played something cooperative, but soon enough you had moved onto things Kenny was far more used to - fighting games. The minute he picked the game, you knew it was already his territory. It’s not like you hadn’t played any of them, not like you didn’t own some, but Kenny was a bit too much on too much into it. And you were nowhere on his level. As his third victory in a roll proved. Or was it fourth? You didn’t wanna think about that.

“Really, are you even trying?” 

Kenny laughed and you rolled your eyes, feeling the well known urge to punch his face lurking in the background of your mind. Instead, you picked up one of the soft pillows over the couch and hurled it at his head, sending a warning shot full force his way - although, a fluffy one. You didn’t even look his way, eyes facing the TV as you heard his surprised yelp from his spot on the sofa. In your peripheral vision, you caught your soft foreign object hitting him right in the face before falling to the floor, Kenny scowling as he laughed for a second.

“Keep pissing me off, I’m gonna be trying to break your back again,” you mumbled in response to him, pushing the button to start the next match.

“Oh, come on,” Kenny started before you shushed him.

“Shhh, it’s starting,” you shot back, waving the controller at him as the announcer counted the start of the match.

All you heard was Kenny laughing as he turned back to the TV, curving forward as he leaned on his knees. You were almost curling up on yourself in stress, sitting by his side with your legs pulled over the couch, torso resting on the sofa’s arm. His long fingers moved with a speed you couldn’t really even register, soon enough he was having you backed up again. For someone so good with actual violence, you performed really poorly at virtual violence. Kenny, on the other hand, was almost fucking born for this. He had been like that back in Japan too, so it was no wonder that he just got worse - well, actually, better - with time. It didn’t take long for him to be clearly beating your ass again.

And that’s why you cheated. Everybody has a breaking point, after all.

“Hey,” you heard him explain as your foot made contact with his shoulder, his exclamation getting mixed with your laughter.

Your kick threw him off balance and gave yourself a small opening that you managed to capitalize on. You could feel him stare back at you for a second before turning back to the TV, and though you had finally gotten the upper hand, Kenny was quick to get it back. His laughter filled the living room for about a second before you kicked in his direction again. This time he was faster, catching your foot with one hand just as it neared his shoulder.

“This is cheating, you know,” he laughed back at you.

“You talk like you’ve never seen me fighting,” you snickered at Kenny, glancing at him as he pushed your foot back in your direction.

You laughed again yourself, the one moment he took one hand from the controller was all you needed to recover. Kenny was swearing by your side, working hard to regain the ground he’d lost as he shook his head at your antics, not even hiding his amused chuckles. If you were to be honest, pestering him was far more fun than the game. Especially as he was pushing you into a corner once more. So, without thinking twice, you tried to strike him again.

“Oh, no, that’s enough,” you heard Kenny say as his hand caught your foot.

You were laughing loudly now, and Kenny could hear the pure glee you got just from pestering him. When he caught your strike, he pushed your foot forward this time, a loud ‘no’ echoing through your laughter as he extended your leg between you on the couch as he threw his much heavier one over it. He had gotten so caught up in your hijinks that it took him a moment too long to notice you had been capitalizing on his loss of attention all along. When he finally did though, he tried to appeal to your own tactics, dropping the controller, hand reaching for your forearm and trying to throw you off balance. But it was no use, the game finally ending with you winning.

“Cheater,” Kenny turns fully to you, voice loud as he pushes your forearm back in the direction of your body, leaning in close to you.

Your amused chuckles turn to a mock evil laughter at his comment, body shaking wildly. Kenny holds himself up on the sofa’s backrest with one arm, his other hand still pushing against your forearm, fingers wrapping completely around as he had you cornered against the arm of the couch. At first, he is shaking his head, repeating his words and giving you his best judgment stare. But soon enough he breaks, laughing alongside you, your own laughter turning more genuine. He let go of you, your arm lowering as you both laughed together, eyes shut tight as his lungs burnt like fire.

It took a few seconds for your laughter to start to die down, and when it did, Kenny opened his eyes first. That was when it hit him, just how close you were. He could see every detail of your features, from the wrinkles around your closed eyes to the dimples near your mouth as you laughed so freely alongside him. He could feel the heat of your body too and smell your perfume, it was something warm and sweet, like chocolate and citrus. 

The scent hooks his mind like a drug, making a moment turn into an eternity before you finally open your eyes, a bright smile painting your face. You look at him and he swears he has never seen anything more beautiful in his life, the undertow of your eyes pulling him deep. He can feel how heavy your breathing is, just like his own, both of your faces just a few inches apart. Kenny knows he should get away from you, but he doesn’t find the guts to do so, feeling his mind dazed by the pull of your eyes and the inviting warmth of the smile curling on your soft lips. So he stays, mesmerized by your beauty, thick silence hanging between the two of you before your smooth voice breaks it.

“You know,” you whispered and Kenny could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, almost taste the words as they spilled from your gorgeous lips, “you never answered if you’d kiss me or not?”

Your question catches him completely off guard, it’s like breathing is an alien concept as his lungs tighten and his throat closes. Kenny’s eyes widen in response, exposing all of their chilling blue, black overtaking it as his pupils dilate. His mind screams loudly in his head, repeating two heavy words: you remembered. You remembered. He had all but buried the memory of that night and all it stirred in him, but you remembered. All of these months, and you did. After a moment of panic, Kenny remembers how to breathe, sucking in air and the intoxicating smell of you.

“You remember,” he mutters silently, half a question half a statement, he doesn’t even know why he does it, the words bursting through his teeth despite not even registering in his mind.

“Surprising, yeah,” you say between chuckles, darkened eyes burning into Kenny’s own, “but that isn’t an answer.”

You whisper the words like a secret and Kenny feels time coming to a standstill, ice creeping through his veins, poison in his bloodstream. His heart beats fast, fighting against his rib cage, he can hear its drumming, the thunderous sound drowning his reason. He shouldn’t do this, he knows. All the common sense in his head screaming that he is about to make a bad decision, that some desires are best left unfulfilled. But god, why should he listen to common sense? His life had been a continuous succession of him doing things he knew he shouldn’t, why would he stop now? Why stop himself when your lips feel magnetic, pulling him ever closer, your skin calling for his own in a language only your bodies can hear. 

His consciousness screams in his ears, but it means nothing, the thunder of his heartbeat swallowing the sound as Kenny crashes his lip to yours, closing the gap between you both. It’s like time moves again, your warmth spreading through his body and melting away the chill in his veins. Your skin feels soft against his, molding to the shape of his own as he presses impossibly closer. He doesn’t even need to ask for entrance, as he leans into the kiss you open your mouth ever so slightly, inviting his tongue in. It’s an invitation he doesn’t dare deny.

Your lips taste like beer and Kenny remembers he used to complain, the bitterness stinging his tongue, but he thinks it fits you now, sharp bite adding an edge to your warmth. Otherwise, you feel soft and heaven-like to him, wet mouth welcoming his tongue as it slides inside. The taste of you is intoxicating, and the velvety caress of your lips has his heartbeat faltering as he slowly explores your mouth. Despite the fire in his body, the kiss is tender and tentative, deliberate in the same way of someone who returns to a home they once knew, but had long since lost.

Kenny doesn’t want to pull away, but when his lungs start to burn he has to, departing from the warmth of your lips with a heavy sight. He is almost afraid to look you in the eyes, but he does so anyway, finding your face inches apart from his own. His heart is still hammering against his ears when his blue eyes meet your gaze, expression unreadable for a moment before your lips curl into a smile. God, it’s like someone breathed life into him again, like he could take on anything, his anxieties all pushed back to the dark corners of his mind at the  sight. You look perfect, you feel perfect, and he could be sure he was blushing by now.

“I’m gonna take that as yes,” you say with a small laugh and he feels your hot breath on his mouth.

“You should,” Kenny replies with a chuckle before diving in for another kiss, a hand reaching to touch your face.

His rough palm cradles your jaw as his fingertips touch your neck, warmth spreading through your skin. The touch is not forceful, it’s firm yet gentle, though the kiss this time is anything but. The minute Kenny’s lips crash back onto yours, his tongue is already in your mouth, tasting and claiming anything it can. Where the first kiss was tentative, this one is bold and greedy as he explores every inch of your wet mouth. You drop the controller from your hands to the ground before reaching for his broad chest, fingers digging into the soft fabric of his shirt, hard muscle welcoming your touch.

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and you moan into the kiss, making Kenny pull you closer by the neck, his rough stubble scratching against your skin. You feel like you are drowning into his warmth, into the taste of his mouth and the woody smell of his perfume. One of your hands travels to the nape of his neck, feeling his soft skin burning under your touch like a furnace. Your other hand stays exploring his broad chest, feeling the thick ropes of muscle responding to your touch under his shirt. In the time you spent apart, he had somehow gotten larger, the broad expanse of his torso feeling solid to your fingers.

Kenny moans under your touch, breaking his mouth away from yours and sucking in a breath. You feel breathless yourself, trying to recover as he brushes his lips against your face. He adjusts himself on the couch, leg finally freeing yours before pulling you closer, a thick arm surrounding your waist and pressing your body closer to him as he leans into you. He feels so hot to the touch, heating you as your fingers travel from his chest to his sides. Kenny groans into your skin and the rough sound has you shivering as he kisses your jaw and down to your neck. His large hand cradles your head as you expose the sensitive skin to him, whimpers escaping from your lips while your hand slips under his shirt.

When your soft fingers touch the skin of his side Kenny grunts, running his teeth along your exposed pulse. By now, the part of his brain that protested had all but been drowned out, only the distant sound of the TV and your soft whimpers filling his mind. The sensation of your hands running up from his abs to his chest has a shudder climbing up his spine and a tightness forming in his core. Kenny lays sloppy wet kisses down your neck, devouring you like a desperate man. God, how had he missed the taste of your skin, the way your warm body felt against his. It was like seeing the sun again for the first time in years, a blessing made flesh.

A strangled cry leaves your mouth when Kenny bites lightly into the sensitive spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder - one he still had mapped in his mind even after all these years. Slowly but surely he finds his way around your skin again, hand grabbing your sides hard, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. When he bites into your neck again you moan, one hand tugging at his hair hard, pulling a low groan from him as his darkened blue eyes find yours.

You look him over, and Kenny prays to any god that he doesn’t seem as desperate as he feels. You look gorgeous yourself, breathless and dazed, trapped between his torso and the arm of the couch. He only lets you both have a moment to regain your breath before his mouth finds yours again in a messy and needy kiss. Your tongues move together as he feels you moan into him, sound swallowed by his hungry lips. He feels you digging your fingers into his chest and he shudders again, cock straining against his underwear, hard and sensitive. The hand you have on his neck slides to his shoulder, and suddenly Kenny is being pushed backwards, his torso meeting the backrest of the couch as you move to straddle him.

The kiss remains unbroken even as you change positions, mouths still moving against each other in a sloppy dance. Kenny is more than happy to let you climb on top of him, a thick arm  pulling you ever closer, chests pressed together. His other hand finds your clothed thigh, slowly traveling up until it finds your hips, fingers moving to the expanse of your ass, groping hard the soft flesh there. You roll your hips over his, and Kenny breaks from the kiss with a hiss, the friction making his cock even harder. Though, you don’t give him a moment to breathe, soft lips kissing the way from his mouth to his jaw and then down to his neck.

Kenny almost whimpers at your touches and it has your mind reeling. To have a man that feels so massive, so solid, grunting and groaning under you is exhilarating. It’s like your senses are on overdrive, making his smell and the warmth of his body act like a drug to your system. His stubble scratches against your lips as you kiss your way down his neck, and you feel every reaction of his body, the way his fingers grip harder and the muscles tighten under your touch. Kenny’s large hands feel heavy on you, one kneading hard at the flesh in your ass and the other sliding below your shirt, his touch searing your skin.

You roll your hips over his again and a groan escapes through his teeth, you can feel the vibrations in his neck before even hearing it. There is something rough and seductive to the untamed sounds he makes, the way his voice feels husky and thick, dripping through your entire body. Truth be said, you could hear him all day. You lick a strip down his thick neck and Kenny shudders under you, your body hyper aware of every movement of his own. He is gripping you hard, the hand in your shirt moving up your sides, his rough thumb and palm caressing your breast - this time, it’s you who shudders.

With a moan, you grind your hips against his, feeling the hard bulge in his pants push straight against your crotch - you hadn’t forgotten that he was big but, shit, it still felt impressive. You bite into his neck lightly and that has Kenny grunting a deep sound, hips bucking against yours and it’s all too much. Your body is screaming, burning with desire, pussy tightening around nothing just at the clothed friction. It’s like you are set aflame, and you need him now. You slide away from his lap swiftly, like your body has a mind of its own, positioning yourself on the floor between his legs, fingers ghosting over his waistband for a second as your eyes find his own.

As soon as your weight lifts from his legs, Kenny already misses the feeling of your body pressed against his. Your movement had been so fluid that he barely had any time to react, his hands missing your supple flesh and the softness of your skin. When his eyes find you kneeling, he is almost taken aback by the sight, breath caught in his throat for a moment as he takes in your slightly disheveled form, the colorful lights from the game illuminating your body as the background music keeps on looping. Fuck, this definitely wasn’t how he expected the night to go, but he wasn’t about to complain.

You dig your fingers into the waistband of his pants, tongue sliding out to lick your lips, and that’s all the incentive Kenny needs, immediately sliding his hips closer to the edge of the couch. You run one hand over his sensitive bulge, the other holding onto his clothed thigh, while your darkened eyes find his. Kenny groans at the touch, feeling his erection twitch under your fingers, every fiber in his body tightening at the friction. In one movement he pulls the waistband of his pants and underwear down, freeing his rock hard cock, big veins popping all over his thick shaft. 

Kenny’s large hand wraps tight around the base as he admires how perfect you look between his legs. He tries not to think about how much he had missed the sight, missed the feeling of your skin on his. He wants desperately to tell you just how fucking gorgeous you look, but the words catch in his throat, still unsure if this is all a dream and afraid that if he says anything the spell will be broken. All those thoughts are banished from his mind, though, as you follow his lead, hand wrapping around his own. 

You break eye contact with him, bringing your mouth closer to his cock, lips hovering over his sensitive head in a tease before you take it in your mouth, pulling from Kenny a guttural sound. His whole body shudders under you, massive thighs tensing at your touch. Damn, from this angle his frame looked even bigger than before, an utterly impressive sight. You suck on the head of his cock and he groans deep and dark, the sound alone making your core tighten, and he felt just way too good in your mouth. With a moan, you unwrap your lips from his dick, gripping his large hand as you sit back on your knees, soaking in the image before you. 

Kenny was huge, that was no news to you, but he was still a sight to behold. His cock was long, veiny and thick - thick enough to fill his own large hands, deft fingers only barely wrapped around the girthy shaft. You take it in your hand, taking in just how hot and hard it feels against your palm, his fingers releasing their grip on himself as you replace them. Bringing your lips teasingly close to his heated skin, you move them from his head all the way down to where your fingers wrapped around the base. Kenny groans as you press the flat of your tongue to the underside of his erection, tracing over the thick vein that runs from base to head. When your tongue reaches the red and sensitive head of his cock, Kenny moans, you can feel his powerful hips stuttering under you. 

You repeat the movement a few more times, licking him from base to slit, relinquishing in tasting his cock before finally taking him in your mouth again. Kenny trembles under your hands as you suck on his head before going lower. You can hear him curse in a deep voice above you, it feels wild, dark and erotic all at the same time. The sound only spurs you on, making you take more of him in your mouth every time you move down before coming back up to the tip again. The groans turn to low and raspy grunts, your name hissed under his heavy breaths as you continue your movements. 

You feel Kenny’s hand touch your face and for a moment you expect him to grab your hair and pull your face down, but it never happens. Instead, his thick fingers brush a strand of hair from your face behind your ear, caressing your cheek with a light touch as you moan around his cock. The softness of his touch came as a surprise when compared to what you were used to from him, and not an unwelcomed one.

When you moan around him, Kenny shivers, whole body reacting as he felt the vibrations go straight to his sensitive cock, a groan coming from deep within his chest. He watched through half lidded eyes as you swallowed him, mouth opening wide to take his thick shaft a good two thirds of the way in. Shit, you looked so good taking him like this, felt so damn perfect too, so warm and wet around him. The hand on your face continued caressing you, feeling the softness of your skin, fingers twitching slightly as your movements teared away at his sanity. His other hand held the edge of the couch, gripping so tight that veins popped all the way up to his forearm. He was slowly losing himself in the sloppy pleasure of having your mouth around his cock.

Your name spills out of his mouth in a strained mutter, Kenny struggling to keep his eyes focused as the erotic wet noises you were making brought him ever closer to the edge of madness. You bobbed your head up and down, dragging his cock on your tongue and the soft walls of your mouth. The coil in his core tightened even more as he watched you working him so perfectly that he almost couldn’t believe it, lips coming closer and closer to the base of his erection. Kenny groaned, feeling his whole body shivering, fighting the instinctual desire of his hips to just buck into your mouth. He was pretty sure you could feel it too, feel the way his body tensed, feel how his muscles twitched even under his clothes, feel the way you drove him to madness, body and mind.

Kenny almost whimpered as you slid further down, gagging slightly around his cock as it got so damn close to the back of your throat. He gasped, heart racing in his chest as he cradled your face in his large hands, fingertips gently caressing the skin of your nape. It felt so fucking good, his consciousness almost slipping away from him, mouth whispering praises that his brain didn’t even register. You were moving slower now, working your way to the place where he wanted you to be, deliberately pushing him deeper down. Your wet mouth felt heavenly on him, making sloppy, almost pornographic sounds as you slid down, and Kenny wanted so much more. But he could wait for it, let you set the pace, he knew you’d find your way to the base of his cock, he was sure of it.

The sound of Kenny’s muttered praises and desperate grunts reached your ears like a wave of pleasure, lighting your body even further aflame. He felt so hot under you, powerful body twitching and tensing at your touch, his thick erection throbbing against your lips as you felt the stuttering of his hips again. In contrast to the rest of his body, the hand on your face remained gentle, caressing your jaw and neck before his fingers delved into your hair, holding it firmly but still letting you set the pace. Slowly you worked more of him into your mouth - a hefty task that you hadn’t done in years, and Kenny was even longer and thicker than you remembered. But, fuck, he was so delicious, there was no way you wouldn’t take the whole thing in your mouth again.

A groan rumbles through Kenny’s body, his hips almost shaking under you. His thick cock twitched between your lips and you could already taste the precum spilling from the slit, flooding your mouth. God, he felt so good, the swollen head of his cock dragging over your tongue down past the back of your mouth every time you pulled up and then swallowed him again. You get close to taking all of him and Kenny grunts, the sound shaking your body and reaching into your core. He is moaning loud now, precum leaking vigorously as you suck almost all of him. When your lips finally kiss his base, he shudders, cock throbbing intensely as he groans your name like a prayer.

Kenny has to fight the urge to scream when he feels your lips touch his hips, feel his entire cock sheathed balls deep in your mouth. Instead, he mutters your name, dirty praises laced in desire falling from his lips. His brain barely even registers what he says, too focused on the feeling of your mouth around him. Kenny caresses your head with the hand in your hair, words failing him when you start to move again, pulling up to the tip then diving all the way to the base. Shit, you felt so soft and wet, taking his whole fucking cock, so god damn perfect. He could feel his erection throbbing as you picked up the pace, the coil in his core tightening fast, a shudder wrecking through his body.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Kenny groans in a broken plea, voice husky and deep and dripping with something sinful. “Fuck, taking me so good. Looking so pretty, too,” he whispers, half lidded eyes following your movement.

His praises turn to curses as the feeling of your mouth dragging along his sensitive dick has him delirious. It’s like his whole body is being taken to the edge of pleasure, winding so tight that he can’t help the bucking of his hips anymore, his muscles moving on their own. Kenny watches you bobbing your head, taking him all the way again and again, the flat of your tongue dragging along the vein on the underside of his shaft and driving him mad. He feels his cock throbbing more and more as his orgasm draws ever closer, coating the inside of your mouth in his salty precum, making your movements even easier as it mixes with your saliva.  

The grip he has on your hair tightens, but Kenny doesn’t try to control your movements, already going crazy as he just watches you slobbering up and down his cock. His fingers on the edge of the couch grip even harder, knuckles turning white. You look so fucking pretty sucking his cock, feel so damn good, and that’s all he can think about. All he can feel is you, and the way his length throbbed on your tongue, the wet warmth of your mouth as you took all of him. It was too much, driving Kenny to the edge until he felt the coil in his core snapping, white flooding his vision as a deep shudder shakes his whole body.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts, his deep voice almost breaking, “I’m gonna cum, I’m g-”

Kenny loses himself before he can finish his words and you stop your movement, keeping his cock all the way in as it twitches and throbs with abandon. He makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a roar as his release spills deep inside. You can feel his body trembling under you, thick thighs shaking as they frame your form. He is shooting rope after rope of his cum, it floods your mouth and throat as you start to swallow. That task is made harder by just how thick it is and how much he shoots, the strong taste taking over your tongue and it feels so damn good. You milk Kenny through his orgasm before pulling him out of your mouth, a bit of his cum still spilling from the head of his cock and landing on your lip. 

Relaxing back against the couch, Kenny grunts, the rumble coming from deep within him as he watches his cum dripping down your lips. He releases his hand from your hair, caressing your face with his knuckles before his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, spreading the cum that had spilled on it. You suck on his thumb and Kenny shudders, a long groan escaping his lips as his blue eyes get lost in the sight before him. Shit, you looked too sinfully good like that, a beauty that his words could never do justice - and one he had been almost sure he had lost forever. You smile and his heart warms, his own lips curling up in response as he puts his cock in his pants and then helps you back up on his lap.

“Holy shit,” Kenny mutters under his breath, eyes closed as he tries to calm his erratic breathing.

“Everything okay there, Kenny?” you ask with a laugh.

Hearing his name in your voice sends a shiver down his spine, a feeling not helped by how your warm hands caressed his face. Kenny laughs along with you, hands rubbing your clothed thighs in slow movements as he lazily opens his eyes. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face as he sees you, hair tousled and lips reddened from the abuse, your skin glowing beautifully under the colorful lights from the TV. To him, you looked perfect, the most gorgeous sight he had ever seen. Without thinking, Kenny leans forward, pulling your body against his as his mouth captures your own in a slow but passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and tasting the remnants of his cum.

“Oh yeah, more than ok,” he responds with a laugh as he finally breaks from the kiss, face still hovering close to your own. “Shit, I had almost forgotten just how fucking good you are at that.”

“Ouch, I take offense in being forgotten,” you snicker, your warm laughter ringing in his ears as he kisses his way from your jaw to your neck.

“I said almost,” he grunts, looking up at you from where his face was buried in your heated skin.

You catch sight of his eyes as he speaks, their beautiful blue having returned, like a fragment of the ocean in reach of your hands. Kenny nips at the skin below your collarbone and you shudder, a small whine leaving your lips. His body feels almost searing hot against yours, stubble scratching your chest as he lays lazy kisses and bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your hands roam over his broad back, finding the rim of shirt to bunch up the fabric and let your fingers touch the warm skin below, feel the way his thick muscles ripple under your palms. His massive frame almost engulfs you fully, large hands holding your hips in place with a strong grip. He felt so big, so powerful - and yet, nowhere near as dangerous as he did back in Japan.

Kenny bites at your neck again and you moan, nails digging into his flesh. You feel him groan more than you hear it, the sound muffled by your skin as his mouth never leaves it, his tongue making a hot wet mess of whatever it touches. One of his hands moves to your ass, groping you hard again as the other slips under your shirt, thick arm circling your waist and keeping you pinned against him. He sucks at your sensitive flesh and you moan again, burying your face in his soft curls. Kenny’s teeth digs into your skin and you almost scream, trying desperately to squirm against him, but it’s to no avail. He does it again, biting harder this time as he sucks on your neck and you force your mind to work, one hand tugging on his hair to pull his mouth away from you.

“Kenny!”

You cry out his name and he immediately pulls away, bright blue eyes finding your own, worry tinging their gentle waters. The cool air of the room meets the wet trail he left on your neck, leaving a chill touch on the area. Kenny’s large hands don’t let go of your body, but his grip loosens, allowing you more room to move, his fingers gently caressing your skin. The softness in his touch echoes the worry in his eyes and you almost feel bad for him - but you really don’t need a hickey on display for your next match.

“Hey, careful not to mark me,” you say with a laugh, trying to ease his worries as your fingers brush his hair away from his face. “I got a show in two days.”

“Shit, shit,” Kenny mutters under his breath, eyes falling away from your gaze. “Did I hurt you?” There is worry still laced in his voice as his hand comes up to your neck, touch so very gentle as he inspects it.

“It’s ok, Kenny, I’m just being a bit cautious,” the words leave your lips with a warm laugh, your hands brushing over Kenny’s large shoulders as you shrug before pushing him back against the couch. “I mean, you’ve always been a pretty intense person, no criticism, I mean, but the last thing I need is a huge purple bite mark on my neck on show night. Just watch out for the visible places and we are good,” you chuckle again before your lips meet his in a kiss.

Kenny welcomes the touch of your skin against his, but it still doesn’t fully clear him of the tightness in his gut. You had put it lightly by using the word intense, he knew he used to be downright aggressive during sex when you were together. On one hand, that was part of a person he wasn’t anymore. He had changed from that rush and aggression from his youth to someone who was passionate, hard but not violent, just different from what you had last experienced. But on the other hand, that was something that scared him too - the possibility that what you wanted he’d fail at offering you.

When your lips slowly pull away from his, Kenny opens his eyes again, hoping you can’t see the turmoil in him. He caresses your skin, giving you a smile as one of his hands rubs your thigh, the other flat against your back, keeping your body close to his as your mouths part. Your fingers delve into his hair and Kenny groans again, feeling your other hand roam from his shoulder to his bicep. When he meets your gaze again Kenny gives you his best laugh, trying to ease himself more so than you.

“I think the word you were looking for there was aggressive. But yeah, I’ll keep away from the visible spots,” he responds with a chuckle, eyes drawn by the smile you give him. “Though, it has been a long time since we last had sex, and I’m not that same guy anymore. So if you are looking for that, well, I’m afraid you’re not gonna like what I’ve got to give you now.”

As Kenny talks, he buries his nose in your neck, words spoken against your warm skin as he tries to hide his anxieties from you by drowning in the scent of your body. Your moan reaches his ears as he kisses the exposed part of your shoulder, his large hands bringing you ever closer - as if praying you wouldn’t get away, silently begging for you to stay. When he feels you pull at his hair he looks up again, blue eyes finding you looking back at him, an inviting smile painted on your face as your hand moves to hold him by the jaw.

“Why don’t you let me know that new you, then?”

sponsored by: @xladyxfatex @wanderbreadsworld @madds-97 @morgan-bucks @tahiri-veyla @slut4kennyomega @of-twilight-and-moonshadow @himbos-hotline @moondust-imagines @madqueenpartna @adriswrld

[starry-night-author]

I'm gonna request something kinda specific, so if you want to change things up or not do it, its fine of course! <3

So, the idea is- two heroes (hero and other hero) basically raised by the agency (that is kinda morally gray) and a hero that joins later ("outside hero"). They are basically best friends.

Outside Hero and Hero get in a relationship, then Outside Hero betrays the agency to become Supervillain. This leaves everyone shook, especially Hero whom becomes paranoic and Other Hero that becomes more stand off-ish and mean.

Well, I'd like to see your twist on this!! You can use any part of the timeline, take all the time you need, literally shape it to your liking!! Add stuff and remove stuff, I'm just very excited🥺

OH MY GOD this looks so fun- Okay! So this one came out extremely long, so I'm deciding to cut it. Here's the first part (not exactly half, the second part is already longer), the second one should be out soon, I'm almost done with it!

Prompt #19

(Part 2)

Hero would never forget the night of the tipping point. In the moment, it seemed so small an inconsequential, and they wished they'd realized how much it really meant.

How serious Outside Hero was.

Hero remembered them ranting as Hero cleaned them up, going on and on about the agency and how they were failing to protect both the citizens and the heroes themselves.

Hero remembered just quietly nodding, hardly paying attention. Ranting was normal. This was routine.

Outside Hero had been a part of a team investigating a small team of villains in a mostly deserted part of the city, which had turned out to be a much larger group than they'd thought. Part way through the raid to capture the villains the agency had decided to pull out, abandoning the team there to be captured.

It was only until Hero got off their shift hours later that they were able to sneak over and free the other heroes.

And Outside Hero was not happy about it. They hardly seemed to notice their various cuts and bruises from the fight, all they could think about was how terrible the agency was for leaving them there.

Hero agreed of course, they were shocked that the agency had just left them there with no help, but they were too used to this. When the agency did something, you just put your head down and went along with it. It was something to be accepted, and not questioned.

So they were quiet as they bandaged Outside Hero's wounds, zoning out as Outside Hero fumed angrily.

By the time they were done, Outside Hero had gone quiet. And when Hero looked up, they saw their partner biting their lip, glaring off into the distance with tears in their eyes.

Ranting was normal, tears weren't. Hero leaned up, kissing their cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm upset too. That was sick of them to do that to you. Is there anything else I can help with?"

Outside Hero just shook their head.

Little did Hero know, that night would be the last time they saw Outside Hero as their partner.

On the other hand, Other Hero would never forget the panic in Hero's face as they told them Outside Hero had been missing for three days. They hadn't come into work, they weren't answering their phone. Other Hero had noticed this as well, but they knew Hero would let them know if anything serious was going on.

Well now they had, and it didn't look good.

By the fifth day Hero officially reported Outside Hero as missing- after stopping by their house Hero and Other Hero had deduced that they hadn't been home all week- but the agency didn't do a thing about it. They were just one of the hundreds of heroes employed, they didn't have time to look for them.

Other Hero would never forget that night either, spent holding an inconsolable Hero. Neither had any idea of what to do.

And both of them would never forget the seventh day, when the city's new villain stormed into the scene. Literally.

This new villain came with all the theatrics of the villains portrayed on tv, over the top, wicked smart, with a dramatic outfit and crazy weapons. Their first encounter with the agency came when the villain launched an attack on their headquarters, consisting of dozens of remote controlled mechs all used to try and tear the place to the ground.

They'd been stopped, but only barely. It was clear that they were going to be a serious threat.

It didn't take them long to earn a reputation. They became known as Supervillain, a villain who based their entire personality off of the silly dramatic villains in fiction but unlike them, was a real threat. They were relentless in their attacks against the agency, and Hero and Other Hero found themselves stretched thin trying to stop them.

That, on top of their recent loss of their respective partner and best friend, was enough to leave them both miserable.

Hero was the first to figure it out.

During Supervillain's most recent attack, a news team had managed to get some close up footage of them as their huge mech ripped into the side of the agency's headquarters. They were leaned back, laughing, hand held to their mouth in a fist as if to partially stifle it.

Outside Hero always used to laugh like that.

Whether it was a full body-shaking laugh or the quietest of snorts, they always instinctively covered their laughs like that. A fist, with their thumb on the inside.

And once Hero noticed that, the similarities began to become more obvious. Their voice. Small fashion choices. The design of their weapons. And when they'd managed to stand still enough for the press to finally get a clear picture of their face, it became incredibly evident.

It just so happened that the day Hero was certain in this that the agency sent them out on a mission to find Supervillain. They'd been given a tip-off about the general location of Supervillain's lair, and were now instructed to find it and bring them in.

"It's Outside Hero." Hero whispered as they were getting ready. Still trying to process the realization.

"What?" Other Hero asked, looking up.

"Supervillain," Hero took a step towards them, past the other heroes who were preparing for the mission. "They're Outside Hero."

Other Hero dropped the knife they were strapping away into the holster on their arm. Thankfully it didn't hit their foot, but they barely seemed to notice.

"Oh my god," they breathed. Eyes wide as they put it together. "You're right."

"What are we supposed to do?" Hero whispered. "We have to go face them now, I-I don't-"

Other Hero still looked numb.

"Other Hero?"

Other Hero blinked, still processing the news. However they reached out, pulling their friend into a hug. "We'll figure it out." They whispered.

"You're not going to leave me to become a villain too?" Hero murmured against Other Hero's shoulder, doing their best to hold in tears. Now wasn't the time. They had a job to focus on.

"Of course not," Other Hero held them tighter. "Never."

[binaural-histolog]

Good evening!

I have a couple questions for you if you would be so willing.

First is dealing with imposter syndrome/not feeling ready. I've been very interested in hypnosis for over a decade now and have kept tabs/read books on/ even taken Wiseguy's class on the topic, but I never feel quite there. Have you/do you deal with this feeling as well, and if so what works for you in combating it?

Secondly, where can I find people interested in both topping and subbing? I've been on multiple discords/hypnohookup/fetlife, but I feel they are too overtly/explicitly sexual from where I want to start off. I feel like that is done after having had a session or two to figure each other out and having a healthy discussion, since trust is at the very core of hypnokink.

Thank you for your time!

Have you/do you deal with this feeling as well, and if so what works for you in combating it?

Imposter syndrome is a feeling. It won't go away because you work hard or work past it or try to think the right thoughts at it any more than the rain will go away because you're wearing a raincoat and rain pants. It's not about solving imposter syndrome. You just get to a point where you accept that sometimes that feeling will happen, and it's okay.

The reason it's okay, for me, is that hypnosis is play. Mistakes happen in play, but if you're having fun and finding joy in stupid shit, you're doing it right, even if you still have that imposter syndrome feeling all the way through.

It took me a year to tell my partner I had a hypnosis fetish. I had a full on panic attack when I told them I wanted to hypnotize them. I was terrified that all the fantasies I had about brainwashing and controlling people were going to inevitably corrode my ethics and turn me into the monster I always knew I was. I knew it was bullshit, but I'd had a lifetime of the shadow talking to me.

And yet... the first time I hypnotized my partner I felt like a five year old given five espressos and a new puppy. Did I screw up the induction? Yes. Did I lose track of my notes and forget half the suggestion? Yes. Was my voice trembling? Also yes. Did I feel like an imposter? Yes. Did it matter? No. Because we set up a schedule and we were going to do it again next weekend, and the goal wasn't to be perfect, it was to play and have fun.

My partner doesn't care about any of the authority or magic involved in hypnosis, so I didn't have to live up to any built-up images of hypnotism. What made a difference to my partner was that hypnosis helped with anxiety and rumination, and it gave us a chance to sit and be close and intimate together. One of the best things in the world is seeing my partner's face relaxed, stroking their cheeks, and tell them things that make them smile even if they don't remember them after the session. The actual experience of hypnosis was completely and utterly different from my fears.

The same goes for writing and presenting. I wrote An Alternate History of Hypnotism not because I want academic or community recognition. It'd be nice to have those things, but I did it because it was fun. Presenting the slides at Mindquake took all my social energy and left me unable to move for a good hour, but I got to show people the links between rhetoric and suggestion and work Mr Rogers into an erotic hypnosis conference. Did I fuck up bits? Yes. Did it matter? No. It was fun.

Your imposter syndrome is a feeling. That feeling may go away or it may not. But the feeling of having fun and enjoying yourself will still be around, and no-one is there to look at the bits that don't work, they are there to look at the bits that do.

Secondly, where can I find people interested in both topping and subbing?

I'm only barely part of the scene, so this is going to be mostly from what I've heard other people say.

Trust and a healthy discussion of kinks should be the first thing that happens. Starting from fetlife/discords/hypnohookup is going to get you people who are "horny on main" so they will most probably not hang back and talk.

Go outside. Go to fetlife munches and hang out and meet people. Look for general openminded kink people, hypnokink is still enough of a niche that the potential pool is much larger than the actual one.

Once you know roughly who people are, then go on a low-effort date to see if they're a top/bottom, how they got into kink, and what their interests are. Then they ask about you, and you explain your hypnosis kink, what you like about it. Depending on how the date is going, you might give some examples of hypnotic suggestions that just so happen to align with their interests and kinks.

If it works out, great! If not, you keep going. Dating is like interviewing, it's not personal and there will be ten or twenty dates that don't work for every one that does. As long as you treat people like people and also feel like you're being treated as a person, you're doing it right.

[illfoandillfie]

2023 Advent: Day 15

This idea was partially inspired by an episode of Neighbours lmao. I was checking out the revival and in one scene Toadie was making breakfast for his new wife and something about it made me want to write newly married Ben.

Warnings: Again, nothing more than minimal editing, it's another sweet one.

It was closer to midday than you were accustomed to waking, but you had a good excuse. The wedding reception had continued late into the night. Though not for all your guests. The first to leave the party were the older members of the crowd, picking a much more reasonable hour to call it a night. Then, not long after, those who had young kids and couldn’t burden babysitters all night said their last congratulations and goodbyes. There were a handful of others, those who had early starts and other responsibilities, who trickled out reluctantly. But most of your closest friends stayed, as well as a handful of family members close to your age, celebrating long into the night. You’d drunk as much as the bartender would serve, danced to every song the DJ had and, all in all, felt you’d done all you could to celebrate your marriage.  

Ben’s parents had, kind-heartedly, warned you not to overdo it before they left, but neither you nor Ben paid them much mind. You didn’t have any plans for the next day – it was a Sunday for one thing, and those were usually fairly relaxed, but your honeymoon also wasn’t starting for another half a week, so there was no need to worry about over sleeping or anything like that. But the slight delay also meant you had no intentions of holding off having sex until you were away. So, still amped up from the night of partying and more than a little horny from the sheer amazement that you and Ben were really, actually, married now, you and Ben ended up fooling around once you finally got home. Not that you were in a fit state to do too much. Mostly you just clumsily made out, giggling a lot, until you fell asleep. 

Ben was still asleep when you woke and stumbled to the bathroom, snoring a little louder than you thought necessary, and completely oblivious to your getting up. It wasn’t until you headed to the kitchen looking for water and perhaps some pain killers for your headache, that you even noticed how long you’d slept in. And then you realised how long it had been since you had eaten anything. If you were at all worried about waking Ben as you pottered about the kitchen, you needn’t have been. There wasn’t so much as a sound from his part of the house, even when you accidentally banged a cupboard door shut. You ended up pulling out so much from the fridge and pantry that you figured you might as well make a full English. It wasn’t something you had often, so it felt sort of special, perfect for the morning after your wedding. There was something about the idea of making your new husband breakfast that felt kind of cute, like you were playing grown up. Plus, keeping so many things from burning helped keep you alert while you waited for the coffee to brew. Ben didn’t surface until you were practically finished cooking, which was something of a relief since you’d been weighing up whether or not to wake him or let him keep sleeping it off. He stumbled into the kitchen, still looking half asleep, groaning at how bright it was.   “I made breakfast, or lunch I guess” you said, pressing a glass of water into his hands, “coffee too if you want it.”  Ben downed the water and wiping his mouth said, “best wife ever.”  The word made you feel warm and happy as you turned back to the various frying pans you had on the stove top, dolling everything out onto two plates.   As you went, Ben made a coffee, becoming more himself with each sip, eventually awake enough to add, “It smells so good babe,” and then more jokingly, “I could get used to this.”  “But you won’t,” you laughed back, “tomorrow it’s back to making your own toast.”  “Maybe I’ll make us something nicer tomorrow. Crepes or something fancy like that.”  “Since when have you known how to make crepes?” you asked, turning around with a full plate in each hand.   Ben shrugged, “can’t be that difficult. Here, let me,” he swooped in to take the plates from you, sneaking in a quick kiss at the same time.  “Best husband ever,” you giggled, following him out to the table. 

[th3sp4rr0w]

Day Seventeen

A03 Link <- Starts at Chapter/Day One for those just joining us :))

Prompts For Day Seventeen Hypothermia/Heat Stroke/”You Look a Little Pale” 

Alt. Prompt For Day Seventeen Memory Loss 

Prompts Used for Day Seventeen Hypothermia, Heat Stroke, "You Look a Little Pale"

Tw's; Medical Experimentation, Past Injury Mention, Past Child Abuse, Mentioned Vomit, Mentioned Gross Behavior Towards Children, PTSD/Flashbacks *Note; There will be no actual sexual assault, especially towards minors, in this fic. It is strictly gross comments made in his past. The scene with the agents touching his cheek is not meant to portray sexual assault. I do understand that it sounds that way, which is why I added the comparison to other creepy adults in his past. It is just Jason's PTSD being triggered and sending him spiraling.

Chapter Seventeen under the cut :)

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

They were left alone for a while.

Agents, mostly Agent A and Agent J, would periodically flitter into the room to check on Phantom’s wound, see how it was healing, give them bathroom breaks, etc. Agent A had even pulled a few strings and got them showers. She’d even gotten them fresh clothing but promised they could keep whatever pieces they wanted, and she’d wash the rest. Cardinal kept his masks, belt, and gloves, and Phantom kept his hoodie. They, of course, kept their shoes as well.

When Agent A started making comments on their greasy hair and the way they smelled, Cardinal got an inkling he knew what was going on. He’d managed to shove all the contents of his belt into the hiding place without breaking the tile. He put a few things he knew he probably wasn’t going to be allowed to keep into the belt, to check if they’d search it. They were missing when he got it back. He was suddenly glad he’d thought of the ceiling as a hiding spot.

Cardinal had helped to shampoo Phantom’s hair when he was asked, rinsing it gently. He’d helped him get dressed again after he got stuck in his shirt and asked for it. He’d had to step up a lot for his twin recently, but he didn’t mind.

The bastards had gotten their answers results at his brother’s expense; blood blossoms did affect them negatively in human form, and their limbs...

It hadn’t grown back fully yet. They weren’t sure what kind of scarring there’d be, what the functionality level would be like, if it would cause any pain, but Phantom’s hand had started growing back. It would be fascinating if it didn’t send rolls of nausea careening down his body every time he thought about it.

He’d started exercising again. They still weren’t sure how to tell time, but he figured it was about every twelve hours or so Agent A and Agent J would switch off. That’s how most places would handle shift change, right? As far as he could tell it was as close to making sense as he could get it.

He did one set of exercises the first time he saw Agent A and the other the first time he saw Agent J. Phantom joined in where he could, having to be careful of his injury and mindful of his human half’s limitations. He also tried to keep up with the collar training; it worked fairly well most of the time.

One day he’d started moving slightly... sluggishly. He couldn’t figure out why, no matter how hard he’d tried. It was like his body had decided to just... stop working. Until he started exercising, at least.

As soon as he’d started to sweat a little bit, he felt infinitely better. It was so much worse after he was done with his sets and started cooling down. It was like someone was actively trying to freeze his joints together using his own body water.

The worst part about it was that Phantom wasn’t anywhere close to dealing with what he was. He swore the room was colder, but Phantom didn’t know what he was talking about.

Cardinal wasn’t stupid. If this had been just about any other person in the building, he would’ve thought they were fucking with him. But Phantom? It didn’t make sense.

What was (probably) the day after that was better, for him at least. He felt warm, like he could actually retain the heat he generated and use it for something. The frozen joints had thawed out and he could move freely; it was like he was some little creature, coming out of hibernation new again.

But Phantom was sweating like he was in a sauna. Beads of it dripped down his face and back; he took his shirt off just to try and cool down again.

It was odd. Neither of them could make sense of it.

The temperatures in their room kept getting more extreme. Phantom would thrive on days Cardinal was too stiff and cold to think, let alone move, and Cardinal would absolutely love the days Phantom was too hot to speak.

Then came the day the agents finally decided Phantom was healed enough to begin testing again.

He had about half of his hand and thumb regrown. The first joint was moving on its own. It was, apparently, enough for the agents to deem him fit. Cardinal almost asked if they could wait but he decided not to get too cocky. They had it decent in there right now; neither of them had been physically hurt in days, they had snacks, neither had gotten caught journaling yet, and they’d even had a shower. As far as kidnapping scenarios went, they were doing pretty good for themselves.

Agent J marched them down to the medical room. They still didn’t know why they’d started having experiments in there instead of their room.

They were directed to sit on the cots. Cardinal could tell Phantom didn’t exactly feel comfortable; in his defense, neither did he.

“Alright,” Agent J was holding the tape recorder again, “Log 51 on subjects T and F. This is Agent J, by myself. I have gotten the greenlight for further testing on the temperature experiment.”

Cardinal looked at Phantom. He looked back. They knew they weren’t going nuts. How rude, truly; all the other times they’d at least warned them they were being tested on.

“I’m going to start the experiment out at 68 degrees, then lower it slowly. Afterwards we will climb back up.”

They set the temperature and waited. At first, both boys were fine; he had a slight chill, but it was bearable.

When it was lowered, Cardinal reacted, squirming to try and get warm. Phantom looked at him like he was nuts.

The lower they went, the more it became obvious that he wasn’t doing very well. His teeth chattered; his body shivered. He pulled his knees up to his chest to try and preserve some of his heat.

It was odd. Cardinal had been through harsher temperature changes than this before; why did he feel like a frog slowly getting boiled alive, or more accurately, slowly frozen to death?

It felt as though everything had slowed down to an unbearable level. It was like his brain had been set on fire and he was trying to stay afloat.

The temperature dropped.

His hands were bright red. He couldn’t feel any warmth in his cheeks.

The temperature dropped.

It was like someone had taped pillows to his joints. Moving them felt stiff and uncomfortable; it almost hurt a little bit.

They were pale. That wouldn’t have been concerning if the temperature had risen at all, but given the trend of dropping it that didn’t seem likely. He felt like he was slowly being syphoned of all of his energy. The longer he stayed cold, the more he felt the effects of being that way.

“Hey, Cardinal? You doing okay?” Phantom asked.

The thought of opening his mouth to say anything filled him with dread. He did it anyways.

“I dunno,” he slurred.

Phantom winced. “You really don’t do well in the cold, do you, buddy?”

On the outside, he shrugged, but internally he was slightly freaking out as much as he could. It, at least, was in the 20’s; It’s not like he was in the negative temperatures without any gear. This shouldn’t have been possible.

The temperature dropped. And dropped. And dropped.

He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this. It was like he was in hell, except hell was a frozen tundra. It felt like he should have frost on his eye lashes. He wasn’t sure if he was hypothermic yet, but with the way he was shivering as though it was his full-time job he wouldn’t be surprised.

Phantom gave him his warm hoodie. He, without thinking much about it, had pressed his face into the fabric. He breathed in Phantom’s scent; something minty with an undercut of... huh. It almost smelled like one of Nightwing’s zesty’s. He looked like he wanted to go over to the other boy; they had been lucky to even get away with giving him the hoodie. Something about skewed results.

He looked over to his twin often. He was... doing just about as well as Cardinal had been in the beginning. He couldn't help the flash of jealousy; he’d never had the temperature training Cardinal had back when he was Robin. How was he doing better in the cold than he was? He didn’t feel like it was fair.

Then again, fair was never in the equation in this place. It was a luxury they’d never been able to afford, and frankly he’d be suspicious they were gearing up to something if suddenly it ever was. He was having a hard enough time trying to remind himself that being given access to things like food, water, and a toilet was considered a human right and not a kindness.

Being in the room was not pleasant. He put the hoodie on over his t-shirt and sweats. They’d been surprisingly comfortable considering he didn’t think that the facility would bother providing clothes at all; they were hesitant enough to allow them to shower.

He wondered if Agent A convinced them by telling them it’d skew the results too much if they continued to ferment in their own juices. These people really only listened if you pointed out it could potentially skew results of the experiments they were conducting. That was a depressing thought.

The temperature continued dropping, even as he began to feel worse. What else was new? Once they started one of these ‘experiments’, they rarely stopped unless one of them was really hurt. He could feel himself starting to nod off.

He tried to keep himself awake as best as he could. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he fell unconscious during one of these torture sessions.

He closed his eyes again. He thought of when Batman took him to see the Al Ghul’s one week when they were being extra weird and cagey about what they were up to. It’d been hot; he’d sweat into his eyes and could hardly move in his suit. The bat had lathered his exposed skin in sunscreen whenever he even thought about going outside and he’d still gotten sunburnt.

He tried to convince himself he was warm. The Bat had always told him mind over matter; Nightwing had said the same thing, though, and he’d trusted it way less.

He loved Nightwing and trusted him with a lot of things; psychology, or anything having to do with decision making, he did not trust. This was the same man who ate cereal with his sugar instead of the other way around and drank zesti, like, at least three times a day. It was absolutely ridiculous and he still maintained they needed to stage an intervention for him. Alf usually agreed. He’d also decided the Discowing suit was an acceptable thing to fight crime in, so again, he did not have the best track record.

Though, thinking of his family back home had helped. He’d stopped shivering. He thought back to his lessons with the bat. Wasn’t that a big sign of hypothermia?

He looked down to the rest of his body. He tried to move his toes, which barely cooperated with him. He began to wonder if it was too late to try and beg not to do the experiment, or to at least start raising the temperature and seeing how they do.

He felt something in his chest trying to take shape. Phantom looked at him.

Questioning-Concern-Reassurance

Cardinal tried to focus on sending a response, but there was really only one feeling he had to share.

Cold

Somewhere in him, he recognized that Phantom raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t have the energy to send anything else and he sure wasn’t going to be trying to verbally respond anytime soon.

Somewhere on the outside, he thought he heard something. He felt the change somewhere deep within him. It was like something had built up in his chest and was telling him of all the things he would normally miss out on.

The temperature had risen, just a little.

He whined, bringing his legs up and tucking them into the hoodie. He pulled the hood up, fumbling with it and nearly being unable to do it at all. He pulled the strings and put his hands in the pockets.

The temperature continued to rise, and Cardinal felt more human with every degree. That’s not to say that he wasn’t cold. He was still freezing; it felt like he was Thanksgiving’s turkey thawing in Alf’s sink, but days before the actual event; the man wouldn’t add water until the day before, saying it was bad luck or something. He didn’t know much about thawing... anything, really? He’d always taken the elderly man’s word on it. He had to know a little bit about what he was doing at least, his food was always delicious.

He shifted slightly to look at Phantom from his makeshift cocoon.

“Subject T,” he heard Agent J’s sharp voice.

He slowly moved his head to the agent. “Yes?”

“Are you done with the dramatics? We have an experiment going.”

He resisted the urge to twitch. He took a deep breath. “Play the long game,” he reminded himself. “You can turn this place into a big campfire later.”

He vaguely wondered if the bat would let him bring marshmallows. At the very least, Nightwing would indulge him. He was certain of it.

“I’m sorry,” he grit out. “I was uh, I’m. God it’s cold,” he said, burrowing back into the hoodie.

“Stop being dramatic,” the agent said simply. “You cannot be that sensitive to temperature.”

He almost pointed out the whole point of this experiment seemed to be how sensitive they were to temperature. He bit his tongue. He could make fun of these people with Phantom later; for now, he needed to be the perfect little captive. He couldn’t wait to tear these people apart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, attempting not to sound bored or sarcastic. Nightwing said when he wasn’t feeling good his tone just naturally took that route. He didn’t think the agent would appreciate it.

Phantom was right; these people had to have been living in their moms’ basements before this. He couldn’t see a single well-adjusted person ever wanting this job, even if you took away the genocide and other things.

Plus, if a single one of them had ever been even mildly interested in science ever, they’d know this was incredibly unscientific. Cardinal had never been able to puzzle out a single hypothesis. It was like watching a child with a magnifying glass on a sidewalk full of ants.

The temperature slowly rose in the room. His temperature rose with it; eventually, he was able to slightly uncurl himself. He still wasn’t brave enough to take the hoodie off, but he was feeling somewhat better. He looked over to Phantom.

He almost wanted to reach out. He also didn’t want to be separated. He had a feeling that these people weren’t into empty threats, given what happened the last time they were here.

The mark, even being scraped out, hadn’t healed completely right. He had a huge divot in his arm where the mark was, digging into his skin and marring it forever. There were a few scars he wanted to see if they could do something about when he got older; that was one of them.

Phantom looked at him and smiled. Calm-Reassurance-Okay

Cardinal smiled back. Okay-Reassurance-Cold

He could see Phantom almost laugh before he caught himself.

The experiment, like so many others, involved a lot of waiting to see what would happen. It truly was nothing new; these people got paid to basically sit around and watch two teenagers obsessively. Except for Agent A; he wasn’t sure what the hell she was supposed to do. He was pretty sure she was stealing company property with the food and water, and she had yet to conduct an experiment on them. He was pretty sure she was deadweight to the agency; so why did they keep her around?

He might have to conduct a few experiments of his own.

He stretched, finally feeling the frost around his joints loosen. He flexed his hands; they still had the ‘pillow’ quality to them, but at least he could move his fingers without little pinpricks of pain dotting his hands. He didn’t want to imagine how Phantom would feel trying to do this.

His brother looked like he was beginning to feel the heat starting to build in the room.

He yawned and stretched; being in here was so boring sometimes. He didn’t think he wanted to see it get interesting though; it seemed like every time it did, they came away with some new oddly specific trauma. He took off the hoodie, beginning to fold it so he could put it at his feet.

He tried not to think about how the feeling that being experimented on was just another part of their life now.

Phantom stretched out, starfish style. As the temperature rose, he was doing worse. He already looked somewhat worse off than Cardinal felt; he wondered if he’d had enough water today.

The warmth that spread around the room felt nice. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket with hot cocoa after crushing Nightwing in a snowball fight. The other boy had claimed all through the winter that he’d let him win, but considering how much he complained coming in, he seriously doubted that was the case.

Phantom’s skin had a flushed quality to it. When Cardinal looked him over, combing his eyes over his face, he looked dry. He tried not to worry about it, but if he remembered right from his training days, that wasn’t exactly a good sign.

He knew better than to act alarmed. If it got worse, he might try to get him some help. Didn’t they have the data they needed by now anyways?

It kept rising.

He thought it felt nice. It felt like a nice summer day, or a pleasant winter day spent by the fire, or when he used to enter the library on a cold rainy day to find it warm and dry. He’d find a book, probably either an Austen or some other classic, and he’d spend the day reading until they closed.

He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he got the feeling the exact opposite was true for Phantom. As he watched his twin on the bed next to him, he could tell he was struggling; his chest rose and fell rapidly and he sounded like he was barely getting any air in.

He felt the urge to go help. It was just how he was; he may not be Robin, but Cardinal wasn’t willing to let it go, either.

He opened his mouth. “Um, not to be a pain or anything, but his breathing is pretty heavy, don’t you think he should get checked out or something?

Agent J rolled her eyes. “He’s just faking it so he can get out of a bit of discomfort, the way you did, subject T. He’s fine; don’t bother me again.”

He inhaled. He couldn’t protest it; they wouldn’t listen unless they decided they wanted to be cruel and punish them for very little reason again. He wasn’t about to make things worse for them... on purpose, at least.

Phantom seemed to be trying to say something lost to the movements of his mouth. It was like he couldn’t get comfortable; he wondered if it was similar to what he went through with the cold.

A few agents entered the room, glaring at the children as they came in. They had icepacks and hand warmers.

“Ah, good,” Agent J mumbled. “Right on time. Icepacks go to... that one-” they pointed to Cardinal, “Give the warmers to the other one.”

He twitched. Visibly, physically twitched. Who did these people think they were?

He didn’t say anything as the ice packs were pressed onto his neck, hands, and feet. Already, the skin there ached- it's like they were trying to make sure they both came out of there with physical and psychological damage.

Seeing someone in distress for that long would do it for sure.

Reassurance-Protection-Okay?

Hot

… He supposed that was fair, considering he did the same to him earlier.

He watched as the heat packs were applied to Phantom’s flesh. The boy squirmed and tried to fight off the oppressive heat; it did not do much.

The agents were bigger. They didn’t seem bothered by the heat of the room. They seemed to be just fine in their cheap suits as they forced a teenager to undergo heinous torture. He’s pretty sure the UN put this on the list of things you cannot do while interrogating enemy soldiers. He could see why.

He tried to keep breathing. Just because Phantom was likely out of the game for a while, doesn’t mean he had to be.

… They had to have been there for hours now. He couldn’t help but wonder if Agent A would come rushing in to be the savior again. Suspicious or not, playing the long game meant that they were out of options. They had to cooperate with whatever batshit insane plot these people had come up with this time; they couldn’t afford to protest. If the wanted this to end before they were ready to end it, they had to rely on other people in power. Even if you were pretty sure those other people in power weren’t going to be your allies for long.

Beggars can’t be choosers, and all that. They were aiming for survival. And who knows? Maybe his mommy issues leftover from Sheila had translated into a hard mistrust of women in his life that would follow him for years to come and Agent A really was a good person.

He didn’t rule out that both scenarios could be true. Maybe he should listen to Alf and get therapy.

He began to rock back and forth, trying to maintain his core temperature. He could feel his hands and feet going numb. He took a deep breath.

He tried to close his eyes and focus on happier times. Throwing sticky pancake chunks at Nightwing during breakfast, when he and the baby bird played video games, his mom reading him a Jane Austen novel for the first time-

He heard something being dragged in. He almost didn’t want anything to do with it; the whole “seeing what’s coming” thing hadn’t been great for his morale as of yet, and avoiding thinking of their next move was kind of working out for him right now. Maybe if he had his belt stocked when they got captured, or maybe if he didn’t know very well that apparently nothing was off the table to these people, he could think about it.

As it was, he didn’t want to. It would just make the situation worse. He could be tense and ready when the time came.

Although he hated it, he had a feeling that time was now.

Against his better judgment, he cracked an eye open. He didn’t want to know where they got a tub from. He had a feeling he knew what it was for as the ice packs dripped down his neck.

“We want to see how you do when exposed to cold temperatures for longer periods of time, since you seem to be ‘sensitive’ to it,” Agent J said when they caught him looking.

He tried not to sigh. This was going to suck.

He looked back over to Phantom, who looked to be on the verge of passing out. At this point, who’s to say if it wasn’t going to get worse just to get worse?

He looked around. It, apparently, took three agents staring into the same tub to slowly fill it with undoubtedly freezing water using a hose. One looked like they were actually doing their job and monitoring it until they could go get ice to shove into it, the others were doing... he wasn’t sure what they were doing. Probably screwing around. He could relate.

Agent J wasn’t staring at them anymore. They had gotten up to do... something, he guessed, over by the door. He peaked.

He didn’t know what was happening. There was nobody there. That would normally set off all of his instincts, but this place seemed to be more sadistic than intelligent. He took one more look around before grabbing the icepacks and moving over to Phantom.

He swapped their torture devices silently and quickly, looking to make certain nobody was watching. Even if they caught him, he was prepared to take the punishment. He’d rather get in trouble for doing something rather than for little to no reason, anyways.

He slid back onto the cot without a sound. He was getting better at that these days; moving swiftly, silently. Sure, he’d done so as Robin, and he’d done it well, but normally he could at least hear something when he did. The ruffle of his clothing, a swoosh of his cape. He was almost glad he’d lost it in the van that day.

As he watched the tub fill and the agents begin to shove ice into the water, he resigned himself to his fate. He’d known for a while that he’d changed after Ethiopia, emotionally anyway. He’d known he’d changed physically. Being forced to strip to his underwear in what was supposed to be a hot room judging from the beads of sweat dripping down the agent’s foreheads, while he himself was perfectly fine was...

Well. It wasn’t an easy thing to come to terms with.

He could avoid it all he wanted, but one day he’d have to face that these people have changed him irreversibly. The Joker when he blew him up in a warehouse, the GIW when they kidnapped him and are currently still torturing him. Sometimes it felt like his body was just a roadmap of hardships.

Getting into the tub reminded him of something he’d thought he’d forgotten.

He’d been little, maybe five. Before Catherine had gotten addicted, she’d been sick. He wasn’t sure what it was; she’d hidden it from him for a long time, never really addressing it. She had once just been his mom, trying her best in a shit situation.

She’d been really sick that day. She’d been vomiting; he thinks she might’ve had a migraine. She used to get those a lot when he was older. Willis had come home for the first time in days and had been berating her for not cooking dinner. She’d tried to explain, but he’d only yelled at her.

He was five. All he’d seen was someone yelling at mommy when she already didn’t feel good. He didn’t know monsters were a thing that existed outside of underneath the bed and in the closets. How could he?

He was five.

He’d said... something. His memory was fuzzy after all these years. He was nearly certain the word ‘poopy-head’ had been involved, since that was the strongest cuss word he’d known at the time. Instead of taking a step back and wondering why a five-year-old felt the need to call him a poopy-head, or better yet, asking himself why the child calling him an insult hurt his feelings so much, Willis had dragged him into the bathroom.

The electricity had been shut off again that month. It was winter. He vaguely remembered going to the neighbor’s sometimes to bathe with their kid and cook dinner. It didn’t matter. What mattered is there was no hot water in their apartment, and it was winter.

Willis made him watch the tub fill, like he did now. He’d made him get in.

He remembered his lips turning blue. He’d remembered the way it made his body feel. The pain, the cold. Willis had threatened to put him outside in the grey snow after, just to teach him a lesson.

He’s still not sure what the lesson was. Don’t back talk? Don’t call people poopy-head? Didn’t matter.

It’s funny that something that seems so insignificant now still has the power to take his breath away. He settled into the cold water as he tried to ground himself in this moment instead of living in that one. He wasn’t about to let these people see him cry, but it felt like he was five years old again, in the freezing bathtub as the man who was supposed to be his dad berated him. His mom had been so, so mad.

She’d packed him up and taken him to the neighbors, blue-lipped and barely responsive, he’d been told. They ran him a warm bath. They bundled him up in all the blankets either household could spare and put him right next to the heater. They hadn’t known if he would survive the night; a hospital trip had been out of the question for several reasons.

He was pretty sure he had been hallucinating by that point, but after he was supposed to have lost consciousness after the blast in the warehouse, he could’ve sworn he'd felt like he was freezing. He’d just been burnt by an explosion; his skin was probably still burning itself. He’d felt so cold.

He knows if it was real, it was probably just the brain’s way of trying to convince him he wasn’t dying. He wished he could do it now to feel some semblance of warmth after this.

Whatever they were trying to accomplish by doing this, he wished it would just happen already. He could feel his skin burn as he stayed there. Someone dunked his head underneath.

He felt the water soak into his masks, making them stick to his skin. When he was pulled back up by his hair, he reached a shaking hand up.

He clawed at his ear where it looped around. The fabric made it feel like he couldn’t breathe; his hands were so cold that he couldn’t get the thing off for several moments.

It finally caught on one of his fingers. He could barely hear some of the agents mocking him as he tried to catch his breath. One of them caught him by his jaw, forcing him to look up at them. “Look at it, man,” he said, caressing his cheek.

“It almost looks like a real kid, but look at that scar!” Said a different one. He felt another hand poke him on the ‘J’. He resisted the urge to bite them; he didn’t know where they’d been.

He wished they’d get their ogling over with. They were starting to uncomfortably remind him of the grown men and women who’d ghost over his shoulder and ask when he’d be joining the working girls of the alley. If he came with a discount. Where he’d gotten his long lashes and baby blues from. It made his stomach twist.

He thought about closing his eyes and pretending it was Batman, checking over him and making sure he was alright after a hard night out, but quickly shut down the idea. The thought of the man he considered to be his papa acting anything like these disgusting pigs made him want to vomit more, if that was even possible.

He tried to pull himself out of his head as they kept making comments about the scars on his body. Openly wondering if they were death marks. Making bets on how he died as if that wasn’t one of the worst days of his life they were chatting animatedly about. He wondered how these people could go home and sleep at night with the way they acted. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping very well when he finally got out of this fucking thing.

They dipped him under again. He tried not to think about their tiny apartment in the alley with the mold on the windowsills. He tried to pretend he didn’t think of the blast that had left him in this mess.

More memories fluttered to the surface. The group of men that tried to stiff him while he was selling tires chasing him when he pickpocketed one of them to compensate for the missing money. Falling into Gotham harbor when he first started out as Robin while trying to dodge a bullet from some goon that didn’t know how to shoot. Throwing up water for 30 minutes after Batman fished him out and stripped him of the costume. When the bat took his cape off to wrap around him. Peeking his head at Commissioner Gordon when he asked what happened and him asking if they needed clothes for him.

He didn’t like these memories. He tried to remember his mom’s face when they caught the first snow fall together, before the plows could come through and ruin the pure white snow. The way the snow looked when first falling over the rooftops, covering Gotham in a layer of gorgeous ice. He tried to remember the face the baby bird made when he convinced him to go outside after school and threw a snowball at him, causing them to have a war like he did with Nightwing at home.

Any time he tried to remember the more delicate details, something horrible would come up. In a way, this was worse than it was days ago with the blood blossoms.

These people really should wear masks. He hated feeling weak; he swore to himself he was going to make every single one of these people feel this way one day.

Playing the long game sucked. It got you dunked in a tub of ice water while grown adults laughed at you. It got you memories that mocked you during your lowest moments. Here’s what it also gave you.

Patience. Cardinal had been playing the long game his whole life. When he was a child being abused by Willis, assuming he had come home that night. While he was Robin, staking out criminals and waiting for the day Batman would let him go out alone. With the Joker. While he was here. People assume playing the long game got you nowhere. That it was only good for making memories you didn’t want to keep.

Holding onto things can make you bitter. Sure, the occasional bout of melancholy was to be expected from someone in his position. Mostly, however, he was angry.  

How many other kids had to go through this before anything was done? How many other kids had to die before something was done? Starting out as Robin had mostly been for the long game of helping the alley. The game sucked, but it kept him alive long enough to do something about it.

When you’ve been playing the long game as long as Cardinal has, you get the pleasure of seeing who’s been eliminated. What makes your opponent tick. How their brain works. It gives you the ability to predict what happens next, should you choose to.

Playing the game with the GIW had sucked so far. However, the way he saw it, it was necessary. It gave him the incentive to make his revenge more... satisfying.

Batman doesn’t do revenge. Robin hadn’t either.

Nightwing did. He’d helped him a few times. He was pretty sure the baby bird also took revenge, if the way he’d been plotting getting his father divorced was any indication.

Robin had never been vengeful. Not that he didn’t have anything to be vengeful about; but he’d been happy. Taken care of. He’d believed that Batman would always be there to protect him; he knew now that, if he could, Batman would trade places with him in a heartbeat. That wasn’t what he was worried about.

He’d never understood why other heroes would say he was just a man. Sitting in the tub, he thought he understood now.

There were limits being human had. Robin had never been willing to admit that Batman had limits beyond those he self-imposed. Whether Robin had ever admitted it or not, it was something Cardinal had gotten to know intimately. He supposed it was fair. Robin was never supposed to shoulder that burden; it was, after all, the reason Cardinal was able to take flight. Cardinal was born because of the limitations Batman had.

He felt the hands leave him. He eventually found his grip on the side of the tub, hauling himself above water and looking at the scene in front of him.

Agent A was fussing over Phantom. He could hear her muttering about cooling him down. He saw her place a gentle hand on his cheek, muttering “You look a little pale,” as he watched him fight not to let his head lull to the side.

These people would pay for what they’ve done. However, patience was a virtue. He could be patient. He could play the game. He could wait his turn, bide his time.

He was willing to burn this place to the fucking ground if it meant he’d never be cold again.

[trollprincess]

Watched the Teen Wolf movie.

… well, that happened.

I read a spoiler-free review a couple of days ago that was like, “You have to have seen the show before to know what’s going on,” but I’ve seen every episode, like, ten times at this point and I was still asking myself what the fuck was going on multiple times.

This feels like something Jeff Davis wrote on a napkin when he got bored and then didn’t edit. Like, it’s one thing to be like “Lydia left Stiles and he’s off ‘fighting his own fires’, whatever the hell that means.” You can’t get Dylan back, you can’t get him back. Whatever. But why the hell is Derek saying so many very, very dim things? That “your eyes!” line is funny, but it makes him sound like they put a Stiles line in his mouth. Melissa and Argent are in multiple scenes together and I literally had to stop myself and try to remember if they even *spoke* to one another. Are they together? Who the fuck knows? “Did you tell your mom?” doesn’t tell me shit. Maybe they are, maybe they’re not. There’s just so, SO much of this.

Addendum: I mean … Adrian? Really? Seriously?! What, did he get picked out of a hat?

Addendum, part two: Does Eli have a personality? He has no mom so he only has Derek who talks to him like he just met Eli yesterday, he’s on the lacrosse team but in Beacon Hills which guys aren’t, he has no friends that we see, all he does is steal Stiles’s jeep. Oh, and he’s got past trauma from seeing Derek wolf out, but JD can’t write people dealing with past trauma to save his life. That ending is hilarious because “teen” and “wolf” are literally the only two things I know about Eli. At all. I mean, he seems very nice, but it’s not enough to make me want to watch a new show about him. At least Scott had Stiles and lacrosse within that first episode.

So much of a two-and-a-half hour movie had me going, “Okay, that could have been written better.”

I said, “Well, that was A Choice,” out loud twice during the movie, which is two times too many.

Okay, I want to preface this by saying it is NOT a criticism. Crystal Reed is 38. She has had a little work done, which there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with. *However*, these actors are all notably older than they were during the show, which makes sense given they AND THEIR CHARACTERS have aged. So are we just handwaving Allison’s aging? I mean, she’s clearly physically *not* a teenager, but is Allison supposed to have come back as one? Okay, fine, we dangled some keys over the Nemeton and now Allison’s back? I just …

The fact that there are at least two characters who are like, “I haven’t used my powers at all in the last fifteen years!” is annoying as balls. I just have a hard time believing that overachiever Lydia is really going to let her banshee abilities slide. I feel like the Lydia I know, over the course of fifteen years, would have been able to send a dart into the bullseye through an open bar door from a block away from absurd amounts of practice. She might not have been fighting monsters the same way she had in high school, but STILL.

Jackson could have not been there and the flimsy plot would have still worked, and yet Colton was enjoying himself immensely in a way everyone but maybe Ian was not. Also, Jackson and Ethan are still together! Awww. Wish we could have gotten two and a half hours of that.

NGL, I laughed when Derek died. It was mostly because I could see the strings. Which I probably shouldn’t be able to, but I could see “well, he’s Superman now and we can’t bring him back for more movies and episodes” tugging that little plot point into position. To be fair, you can’t really have the character walk that plot point into existence when you’re writing him from minute one as if he banged his head off something.

Scott and Allison … just … can we stop for a second and go back to that question of where she’s at when she comes back? Because I feel like we’re going back to the issues with Malia when she returned from being in coyote form for years, except in that instant she lived those years. And it was still problematic for her to be having sex with Stiles and going to regular high school classes. Allison hasn’t been *alive* for fifteen years. She hasn’t even been a CORPSE. She’s been ash in an urn. And now she’s back after dying when she was a teenager, and it’s just back with Scott and everything’s normal? Come on. Come ON.

Meanwhile, Malia and Parrish. I’m fine with that. Provide that man as many fitted uniforms and fireproof underwear as he needs to rip and/or burn off.

I’m mad about Hikari, because I’m sure she’s great, but also it feels like they wrote Kira in and then when Arden wouldn’t do it they erased Kira and drew Hikari in but without giving her much to do as a person instead of a kitsune. (And if she and Liam were together together, then let them be? I don’t fucking know at this point.)

I know this sounds like I didn’t like the movie, and that’s because I didn’t, but also I appreciate it being so badly written because watching badly written things makes me throw things and shout “I can write better than that!”, and in this case I have a first draft inspired by Teen Wolf crossed with Yellowjackets which I can direct my annoyance at.

[escargon]

the space jam 2 post (spoilers)

Tl;Dr: there should have actually been conflict with the toons so that bugs relationship with them as his family could have been better explored as a parallel to LeBron James’ character. What we got was a contrived mess that did nothign for anyone and weakens the whole movie, also wasting everyones time.

My biggest gripe with this movie is the disconnect between the way Bugs is written and portrayed and the motivation given as to why he was abandoned at all. The first time Bugs is introduced he is alone, having been abandoned by the rest of the Tunes leaving for greener pastures within the Warner Brothers serververse. Bugs is not shown to have done anything that would warrant being abandoned, nowhere does the film imply explicit, deliberate coercion on the part of the antagonist in separating his friends from him nor does it even use the visual medium of the pictures shown on the screen that they were unhappy in the Toon World and/or the “franchise worlds” they are gratuitously animated into.

According to Bugs, the messaging being given to them was that they were “wasting their time” living in the toon world. What that means is unclear, leading to a very weird scene where the entire cast sans Bugs is implied to have left of their own free will and on some level were nondescriptly dissatisfied with life in their own world. There are so many things to be said about the IP shoving garbage that is the entire runtime of this movie, but this is the part that makes the least sense to me. I think they were going for “representation of the future thinks the Looney Tunes are outdated,” but that comes across only after careful deliberation and is barely there in the actual text of the movie.

The audience and the characters themselves are given nothing other than “serververse cool” as a reason for these characters to leave Bugs, and also no indication anywhere that there is something stopping them from coming back. There is no barrier to entry in these words but transport, which historically has been very easy in Looney Tunes and from how easy it was to bait Marvin and steal his ship, easily could have been done at any time. And then, all the other characters do throughout the serververse is play “recognize the IP dress up.”

There was no reason for Bugs to stay there alone going mad unless it was some sort of self-imposed exile because he failed his friends, or there was the aforementioned barrier to entry to and from Toon world (which doesn’t seem to exist). Addressing the former, what would be the reason for that? Bugs has done literally nothing. He has done nothing wrong. Nothing worth cutting him off. Nothing.  All he did was choose not to leave his home. The actual presented stakes of this situation are so bizarrely void of any meaning when there is no reason for them to be separated or get back together at all other than “Warner Brothers is making a new Space Jam movie,” and even then they don’t make any sense at all, and the emotional stakes the co-lead to this movie could have had are so contrived and nonsensical they had to introduce a life-or-death element one hour in because none of the other characters or the story itself are actually responding to the emotional journey the performance (given by the combination of the voice actor and the animators, I know Bugs Bunny isn’t really there) is trying to convey.

This movie is fucking awful and confused and there’s not enough thought put into the emotional journey of Bugs Bunny, and this is mostly just a thought dump as to why. I genuinely believe I thought more about the plot of this movie than the writers did, and I watched it for the first time literally 26 hours ago. At least Back in Action had the decency to only be an hour and a half long and has interesting character moments with Bugs and Daffy (who was done. So fucking dirty by Space Jam 2) despite having a lot of the same problems as this movie, weirdly enough.

[clemelemelem]

Montana University Romance: Charlotte Can't Be A Bitch If She's Not Here

We arrived at my dorm. It was dark and silent, my roommates still being crazy at Charlotte’s party. I turned on the lights. “Sorry about the mess. It’s mostly not my fault.”

He chuckled. “It’s not that bad.” He sat down on our raggedy couch and I went to the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked. “We’ve got… actually, all we have is a shitload of butter. Would you like some water? Or… butter?”

“Water, please. Where did you get all the butter?”

“Clemcat used to eat butter noodles, but she has stopped eating the noodle part and now just eats whole sticks of butter. It’s honestly scary.”

“Your roommates are crazy.”

“Tell me about it!” I filled a glass with water and bought it to him. “Here you go.” I sat down next to him on the couch. He sipped his water.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re very welcome. It’s not warm, is it?” I replied.

“Only a little. I don’t mind.” He gave me that slug-smile I was starting to really like. Then he noticed a DVD I had by the TV. “Hey, is that-”

“Goat Story?” I finished.

“Yeah, Goat Story! That’s my favorite movie!” he exclaimed. “It’s just so bizarre!”

“Wanna watch it?” I asked.

“Oh, yes, absolutely,” he said. “If you want, that is.”

“I’m always up for Goat Story,” I agreed. “Do you mind setting it up? I’ll make popcorn.”

He put the DVD in the DVD player and I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. In a minute it was done, and by the time I returned the movie was already playing its first scenes. I sat down next to Emerson, and offered him the popcorn. “Want some?”

“...That might be a little salty.”

“Oh, sorry!” I cried. “I completely forgot. I’ll go get you something else. What would you like?”

“Do you have anything other than butter?”

“We have… ice cream? I think that’s it. Butter, ice cream, and popcorn. I’m sorry, we’re not very good at shopping.”

“Ice cream sounds perfect, actually. Thank you.”

I got him a bowl of strawberry ice cream and returned to the movie. We sat and watched the entire thing, Emerson eating ice cream and myself eating popcorn. Slowly we moved closer to each other as the film played, and by the end my head was resting on his slimy shoulder. After an hour and a half, the movie came to a close, and I stood to take the DVD out of the player. By that time it was nearly midnight, and Emerson said goodbye to me. He left, and I couldn’t wait to see him next.

[animeomegas]

Kinktober - Day 6

[V (Mystic Messenger) + Toys]

Summary: Somehow the existence of your rather extensive toy collection becomes known to a largely inexperienced V. Well, after tonight, he won’t be as inexperienced with toys. Dom!Alpha!reader.

Warnings: alcohol mention, abandonment issues mention.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older?”

You and V were attending Zen’s birthday party together and you’d only just now, several hours in, had a moment to congratulate Zen personally. He was always Mr. Popular, but tonight especially so.

Zen sighed dramatically at your question, just as you expected him to.

“I thought I’d have a girlfriend by now,” he pouted, hand over his heart. “But alas, another year with only my adoring fans to keep me going.”

You rolled your eyes while V gave a chuckle from his place standing next to you.

“Well then,” you glanced over towards the huge pile of presents sitting at the gift table. “You’d better hope one of them is a fleshlight if you’re that lonely.”

Zen choked on his beer, his eyes darting to V for automatically. Zen was normally very hesitant to use crude or dirty language around omegas (especially one he respected as much as V), but the alcohol induced relaxed state seemed to win and before long he was barking out a laugh and punching you lightly on the shoulder.

V remained silent while you and Zen bantered back and forth, and even after the conversation had wrapped up. You took that as a sign to excuse you both from the party to head home and rest. So, with one more ‘happy birthday’ thrown in Zen’s direction, you left to the car park.

V continued to remain silent on the drive home too and you figured he must be tired. Very large groups of people, loud music and drinking wasn’t really his scene.

But then, as you were about a minute from your house, V opened his mouth to share what had been on his mind.

“What’s a fleshlight?”

…

Which brought you up to now.

V was propped up against the headboard of your bed, naked and watching you rummage around in a box in your half of the wardrobe. He seemed mostly relaxed, nudity didn’t bother him, (as he’d told you once before, the human body was beautiful and nothing to feel uncomfortable about) but he was clearly curious about what you were doing.

Curiosity was what got him into this situation, so you weren’t particularly surprised.

“Does it hurt?” V broke the silence, eyes focused on the cylinder in your hand as you walked back to the bed.

“No,” you smiled, shaking your head. “It should feel really good, but I’ll use lots of lube to make doubly sure, okay?”

“Okay,” V nodded. “I trust you. I want you to be able to do something you enjoy. I didn’t know you liked things like this.”

You coughed awkwardly. His tone wasn’t accusatory at all, but you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you hadn’t disclosed the existence of your toy collection with him. You had just been embarrassed and sure that V wouldn’t be interested with how often he cited skin-on-skin contact and intimacy as his favourite part of sex.

“I may not be used to things like this, but I want to make you happy.”

“I want you to be happy too,” you countered, running a gentle hand down the side of his face. You were still working on getting V to value himself as much as he valued other people. “It’s just as important that you’re also having fun, and if you’re not, then it won’t be fun for me anyway.”

“I’m sure it’ll be good,” V smiled, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

You couldn’t help but marvel for a moment at how innocent V could be sometimes. He wasn’t a virgin when you’d met, but he’d done nothing but the most basic ‘five minutes under the covers, pitch black, missionary’ sex. Not long into your relationship, V had warned you that he wasn’t that interested in sex, nor did he have a high sex drive. But after your first time together, it quickly became apparent that, yes, his sex drive was fairly low, but that he actually enjoyed sex very much, he’d just never had good sex before.

Keeping in mind that the intimacy of sex was something he especially enjoyed, you leant in and gave him a small peck on the lips and a smile that was quickly returned.

“I’m going to get the fleshlight ready now,” you explained for his benefit before uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount in just as you’d promised and moving downwards on the bed to sit by his hips. “Ready?”

V nodded, and with one little kiss to the tip of his cock for luck, you slipped the fleshlight on, the lube allowing V to bottom out easily.

V gasped sharply at the new sensation and, watching his reactions closely, you slowly moved it up and down, twisting it around occasionally, being careful not to let him slip out.

“Hmm,” V closed his eyes, humming at the pleasant sensation. You could see his thighs tense and then relax periodically, head sinking into the pillow. “It does feel good.”

“It does,” you agreed, continuing the steady pace and pattern.

After a minute or two, you shifted little back up the bed so that you could stroke V’s hair while you continued using the fleshlight on him. V lived for softness and so of course you endeavoured to give him that in spades.

“Have you ever used this before?” V asked quietly, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Yes,” you admitted. “I’ve used lots of toys before… Would you be interested in trying another one tonight? I know you find it difficult to finish with just this kind of stimulation.”

“What sort of toy?” V asked, face open and non-judgemental. You loved him so much.

“It’s a vibrating dildo… but it’s really small, I promise! Excellent for beginners! And you don’t have to of course, it was just a suggest-“

“Okay,” V cut you off simply.

“’Okay?” you repeated. “Okay! Great, let me grab it.”

You slipped the fleshlight off him for a moment while you grabbed the dildo with speed you didn’t know you possessed.

The dildo was small enough that you could easily slip it inside him with the help of some more lube. V tensed when you first slipped it in, but he relaxed shortly afterward. Although, looking up at him, you could tell he wasn’t sold on the feeling yet. That didn’t surprise you much; he’d always enjoyed the skin-on-skin part of sex very much. Still, you figured his tune may change after you turned it on.

A few seconds later, you had the little vibrator pressed up lightly against V’s prostate, but just as you were about to turn it on, you paused. The vibrator only had one setting, and that setting was pretty intense… you didn’t want to overwhelm your mate.

You decided to move back up the bed, remote in hand, so that you could hold V when you turn it on. He’d probably appreciate some support with how new this was to him.

“This… might be a lot, are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” V answered, voice steady. “I know I’ll be okay as long as you’re here with me.”

Your heart warmed at his words.

“I’ll always be here for you,” you promised, kissing him lightly on top of the head.

And, with V’s approval, you turned on the vibrator.

Immediately, the sounds of the vibrations filled the room, hardly muffled by its position inside V. V yelped, losing his composure and confidence immediately and reaching out to grab for you, fisting his hands in your top.

“You’re okay,” you hushed him. “I’m right here, try to relax.”

His toes curled and his legs spasmed out as if searching for something to grip on to.

“Don’t- don’t leave,” V begged between the harsh panting and whining. His face was flushed and hot to the touch as he writhed on the bed, untucking one corner of the sheet with his erratic jerking.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised firmly, keeping a solid grip on him in hopes that it would help ground him. He had given no indication that he wanted you to stop, but as it was his first time with such a toy, you figured you should end this sooner rather than later. “I’m going to use the fleshlight on you again, is that okay?”

V whined but nodded against your shoulder where he had currently buried his head.

“I’m close, though,” he mumbled against you.

“Don’t worry, my love, you can cum whenever you like.”

It took only five pumps for V to reach his climax.

You knew immediately when he reached his peak because all the little noises he had been making suddenly ceased, his breath being stolen by the wave of pleasure. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open in a silent scream as he filled the fleshlight. It was a little tricky to keep your hold on him as he spasmed, kicking his legs out and arching his back against you.

You opened your mouth to say something comforting or maybe sexy, but you couldn’t find the words, too entranced by V’s erotic performance.

Eventually, his movements calmed into shivers and you turned off the vibrator before he entered the territory of overstimulation. That would be too many new experiences in one night.

V let out a little whine as you shifted him from your shoulder to laying back on the bed, his eyes shooting open immediately. He tried to sit up when he saw that you were moving.

“Relax, Jihyun,” you whispered, pushing him gently back onto the bed. “I’m just going to remove the toys, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

With your reassurances in mind, he did indeed settle back down, but his eyes remained firmly fixed on you the whole time. V had some pretty bad abandonment issues, although he wouldn’t admit that or seek help for them, so he could get a bit antsy if you moved away from him in certain more vulnerable moments. For that reason, you removed the toys swiftly and placed them aside to be cleaned later.

You moved back to V, something he welcomed with a smile, and you pushed back his damp fringe from his forehead. You continued these calming ministrations until his forehead suddenly crinkled under your palm.

“You haven’t cum yet,” he said like he was offended by the very prospect. He pushed himself up and moved his hands to your crotch.

“Not tonight,” you denied, pushing his hands away and trying to get him to lay back down. “I’ll be fine.”

“But- 

“No buts, Jihyun, you’re exhausted, it’s time for cuddles.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you slid in next to him and covered you both with the duvet before he could properly protest. V reluctantly gave in and made himself comfy in your hold. Silence fell over the room for a moment.

“I love you,” V says sincerely.

You almost teared up at the surge of emotion that his words inspired in you. Everything about him was so passionate and sincere.

“I love you, too.”

[quicksilverrwrites]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.

Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.

Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.

You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?

Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.

You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.

And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.

What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.

Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—

Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.

As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:

Are you up? Can I come over?

Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.

You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.

When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—

An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.

You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—

Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.

You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—

But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.

His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.

Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”

You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.

Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.

“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”

“No.”

Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.

Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”

You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us."

Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.

You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”

Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”

You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.

“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”

“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”

Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”

“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”

Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”

Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”

You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”

Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”

He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”

His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”

It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.

Is this what he’s hiding deep down?

“Tell me about it,” you say softly.

Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”

Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”

Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”

He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”

“Start from the beginning."

So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—

“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."

Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.

You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”

“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”

Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”

You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”

Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”

Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.

“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”

“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”

Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.

He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.

Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.

“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”

[forcefullyawake]

Hello! This is for @ketslketslketsl claws and creampies collab.

Summary: It’s not every day a pretty girl gives you her number, or pursues you so much. Sure, it looks like Mikasa is hiding something, but how bad could it be?

Pairings: Mikasa x Reader, Monster! Eren x Reader

Warnings: non human sex, noncon, violence, tentacles, gaslighting

WC: 4.8k

You look like an idiot.

There’s really no way around it. The dress your friend had all but forced you into is a little too tight, the straps on it digging into your plump flesh a little too much. The color on your lips is a little too red, the makeup on your eyes a little heavier than you’d ever done before. All of this to stand out, to show to the party at large that not only were you available but you were looking- something you hadn’t gone out of your way to advertise before. Your friends say that you look hot before you leave, but you think you look like you’re trying to hard.

It’s especially obvious when you’re handed a red solo cup as soon as you walk into the door, and immediately find a place on the wall to people watch. Nobody gives you a second glance (well, maybe a couple do, but at the resting frown on your face nobody gives you a third or tries to strike up a conversation). All of the makeup in the world can’t overcome the fact that you just don’t like talking to new people. Hell, even the friends you came with tonight basically adopted you into their friend group your first week of college, instead of you engaging them.

People filter through the home all around you, some dancing where there’s open space, grinding on each other to a low thumping beat that reverberates through your chest. You have to shift on the uncomfortable heels you’re wearing, trying to subtly grind your thighs together. It’s not like you don’t want that- it’s not like you don’t want to throw caution to the wind and disappear upstairs with some pretty boy or gorgeous girl. It’s just that you don’t know how- it’s like you missed that lesson in school, too wrapped up in a book to learn to relate to people who didn’t exist on a page.

Your mother says it’s not too late to get out there and learn about these things, but it feels that way sometimes. In times like these, it’s hard to gather up the courage to strike up a conversation, even when you’re on your second drink. At least you think it’s your second drink- whatever is in your cup is red and fruity, and it doesn’t taste like there’s much alcohol in it, which even in your limited experience you know is a sure sign there’s probably a whole bottle or two of something in it. It makes your head swim a little, it’s nice in a way but it mostly makes you sleepy.

Maybe you can call an Uber. You can find one of your friends to let them know you’re leaving, call an Uber and go to sleep at an almost decent hour. Let them have all the fun, and the hangovers, while you get a solid eight hours of sleep. At least it’s the weekend, and you have two days of freedom before your job takes up your time again. Your eyes start slowly scanning the crowd, looking for anybody you know- Annie, maybe, she’s tall and her blonde hair sticks out. Or Reiner, the lone male in your group, but knowing him he’s snuck off with Bertolt the first chance they got. Lucky bastard.

“You look lonely,” Someone says to your right, and when you look over there’s a girl standing there. She’s a couple inches taller than you, slender but the sleeves on her shirt are short enough you can see her muscles too. Black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, a dainty gold chain resting on the pale skin of her neck with a little ‘M’ on it. Startling grey eyes that are doing their level best to bore into your skin. Definitely not the type to talk to you.

“Just trying to find my friends,” You say, but it mostly comes out as a whisper. She leans forward a little more, so you repeat yourself, a little louder. There’s a slight edge to her smile when she realizes you’re alone, you think, something about it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It must be a trick of the light, though, because the next moment it’s gone.

“It might be easier to find them if you’re in the crowd,” She says, murmuring right next to your ear, her breath dancing over your skin, “They could be upstairs, even. I could help you.”

You mean to say no, thanks but no thanks, you’ll be on your way. Your parents talked to you about stranger danger, and you’re on the wrong side of tipsy but what comes out of your mouth is, “Yes, please.” She smiles, victorious and promising.

“I’m Mikasa,” She tells you, putting her hand low on your back as you move away from the wall. The way the dress is designed, all wrapping layers, means there’s a gap in the fabric on your lower back, just enough that you can feel her hand on your skin, cool against you despite how warm it is in the room. You give her your name, watching as she repeats it to make sure she has it correct, eyes rapt on the way her lips move around it.

She doesn’t guide you upstairs, but closer into the makeshift dance floor. It feels like a scene out of one of the romance novels you have tucked away on your bookshelf at home. People seem to part around you, time stands still, all the cliche’s come to life. Her hands are on your hips as she moves behind you, steady and squeezing into you just enough to make your heart race. Mikasa isn’t especially broad but you feel remarkably safe with her right behind you.

“See anybody you know?” She has to lean down to speak in your ear, and between the alcohol and how close she is, you’re not sure you would even recognize your own face. You can feel her moving in time with the music, your own hips starting to sway with hers. Your eyes drift shut, letting her hands wander over your sides, skimming up to right under your breasts before the make a trail like fire back down to your hips. Maybe this isn’t so bad, you think, as you let yourself turn in her arms, her thigh moving between yours.

You’d think it’s a dream, that you did go home when you thought to, and your mind was wandering but the pleasure that courses through your when her jeans rub against your clothed cunt feels too good to be a dream.

“You do this often?” She asks, drawing you back to earth. All you can do is shake your head, arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She laughs at that, mouth forming words you can’t quite make out when you hear your name being called.

“I think your friends have found you,” Mikasa smiles, taking a step back as she eyes someone over your shoulder. Your hands drift back to yourself, helpless in the air before she catches one, grabbing a pen out of her back pocket to scribble something on the back of your hand. She presses a kiss on it when she’s done, giving you a warm smile.

“Call me,” She says, before being swallowed into the bodies behind her. On your hand there’s a phone number. You hold your hand close to your chest as your friends surround you.

“There you are!” Annie hisses at you, wrapping a protective arm around you, “What were you doing with her?”

“Mikasa?” You ask, glancing behind you like you would still be able to see her, “She was helping me look for you. You left me.”

“She looked like she wanted to eat you alive,” Reiner huffs, Bertolt nodding in agreement. You roll your eyes at them.

“Maybe you’re just seeing things,” You suggest, pulling away from them, “Either way I think I’m going to head out. You know this isn’t my scene.”

“I’ll drive you,” Annie says, looking over your shoulder, “Armin is ready to go too.”

“Thanks,” You walk with Annie and her boyfriend to her hatchback, stretching out your legs in the backseat. You ignore their hand holding and longing looks. Clearly, when Annie said Armin was ready to go, she didn’t just mean home. At least the drive home is short. You say your goodbyes and make your way into your apartment, locking the door behind you before getting ready for bed.

Normally you would be tired, but there’s a thrumming in your veins, an undercurrent of excitement at the number written on your skin. You enter it into your phone, debating on sending Mikasa a text, but you hold off, not wanting to seem overeager. Still, you toss and turn, your skin feeling overly sensitive, each brush of your sheets feeling like the brush of fingers.

With a sigh you give up on sleep, rolling onto your back, one hand trailing down your neck while the other pushes up your sleep shirt, fingers skimming up, cupping one breast. You let your eyes close, imaging someone else touching you, Mikasa’s fingers being the ones to curl around your neck, her fingers tweaking at your nipples until they’ve pebbled. You picture her lips, her tongue, when you spread your lips, fingers making tight circles around your clit. It’s not you touching yourself, but her, playing your body like a fiddle until you cum, quicker than you can remember in recent memory, hard and fast, one hand smothering down your moans from your neighbors.

Maybe it should concern you though- no matter how hard you concentrate on Mikasa, picturing her above you, or between your legs, you can seem to recall the color of her eyes.

They only look red in your memory.

Dawn rises bright and early, pulling you from your sleep. You wake up with your heart racing, pounding in your chest. You don’t remember much of your nightmare, only that something was chasing you, nipping at your heels as you ran for your life. With a shudder you roll out of bed, thoughtlessly grabbing your phone to take it with you to the bathroom.

You gather courage as you brush last night out of your teeth, compose a text while washing your face, and hit send right before you step into the shower. It’s nothing special, a quick text that lets Mikasa know it’s you. Your phone balances precariously too close to your shower, music playing steadily out of it when the sound cuts off- your ringtone starts to play. You’re getting a call.

Grabbing your towel from where it rests you dry your hand, half your body out of the shower as you take the call without checking who it is. Nobody calls anymore, you assume it’s an emergency.

“Hello?” You try not to sound too panicked. The voice on the other end laughs, low and throaty.

“I thought I said to call me?” Mikasa teases you, can you feel your skin heating up for a reason that has nothing to do with the shower. There’s no way to turn the water off from where you are now, not without getting your phone soaked, and you’re sure she can hear exactly where you are. “Though, maybe I should give you a call back.”

“Give me ten seconds, don’t hang up,” You say, not listening for her reply as you place the phone back onto the counter. Reaching over to twist the shower off, ignoring the soap left on your body to grab your towel and wrap it around you properly. It’s not enough but it’ll have to do.

“Still there?” You ask as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. Your sheets are gonna get wet but it’s worth it. Your skin is cold where the air hits it, but you don’t wanna hang up, not yet.

“Of course,” Mikasa breathes, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I know it’s a bit old fashioned to call people now, but I find it’s a much better way of communicating with people, don’t you?”

No, you don’t. You get flustered and stutter over your words, so you much prefer texting where you can make sure you say what you want to, but you certainly can’t tell Mikasa that and so- “Yeah, I think so too. It’s hard to read tone over text.”

That part isn’t a lie, at least. Mikasa’s laugh is like honey in your ears. “You don’t have to lie, I can put you out of your misery now, if you’d like. Send some texts with the letter u as you.” Her teasing doesn’t sting you, not even a little bit.

“Or we could just meet up?” You suggest, breath catching in your throat as you wait for her reply. It could be that you’ve completely misread the situation, maybe she’s just being nice, maybe she doesn’t like girls, maybe-

“Give me an address and I’ll pick you up tonight at 7,” Mikasa replies, so smooth and confident it makes your head swim a little. You rattle off your address and she tells you to dress casual before hanging up. You have all day to get ready but you start immediately, drying your hair and styling it before picking out what you hope is a casual enough outfit- a soft white sweater over a sundress patterned with strawberries. A few swipes of pink makeup later and you’re set.

Now all you have to do is wait.

It feels like the hours manage to double themselves, or even triple themselves. A whole lifetime of waiting in one day until you manage to lose track of time and doze off on the couch. Three sharp knocks on your door startle you awake, sending you flying towards the door.

“I’m awake!” You practically shout, throwing the door open. “I mean. Hello. Hi. Can we do that again?”

“No, it was cute,” Mikasa says, smiling at you. You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, trying to ignore it. You’re not sure if you should invite her in but she solves that problem for you. “Are you ready? The place I’m taking you isn’t that far away.”

“Just let me get my shoes on,” You say, quickly turning to slide your feet into the first pair of sandals you see, strappy ones that make you trip if you’re not careful. But it’s fine. You know you’ll be careful tonight.

Mikasa leads you to her car, a silver hatchback. The interior looks spotless, and there’s an almost overwhelming smell of cleaner permeating through the car. You buckle yourself in before looking at her.

“Got it detailed just for me?” You think your voice is teasing but Mikasa stiffens, inhaling sharply as she looks at you. Her reaction takes you aback. “Whoa. Sorry. Teasing!” Mikasa relaxes almost imperceptibly at that, but you can see her shoulders sag down a little.

“Sorry, normally nobody notices how clean a car is,” She says, “Took me off guard. You’re very perceptive.”

“A lifetime of being a wallflower,” You reply without thinking, “You get good at people watching, all that jazz.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” She teases you back now, bringing a smile to your face. She’s right, the place she takes you isn’t that far away and the drive passes smoothly as she pulls into the parking lot of your towns oldest diner. You sit up straighter in your seat- you haven’t been here since you were a kid.

“It’s a little old fashioned, I know,” Mikasa says as she gets out, and you must be distracted because the next thing you know she’s opening your door for you, and there’s no way she moved that fast. “But the ice cream floats here are to die for.”

“Oh no, this is great!” You exclaim, walking next to her into the diner. She asks for a booth in the corner, something you didn’t know people did outside of your romance novels.

“Order whatever you want,” Mikasa says, barely giving the menu a glance. “It’s my treat.” Your mother didn’t raise you to take advantage of someone’s generosity even on a date so you order a small combination meal- though you do opt to upgrade your drink to an ice cream float at Mikasa’s insistence you try one.

“What do you do for work?” You ask, trying not to cringe at your attempt at small talk while you wait for your food to come out.

“I’m.. uh,” Mikasa hesitates now, looking anywhere but your face. It takes her a fraction of a second too long to answer, just enough time to make you frown when she continues, “I’m a caregiver.” Even to you it sounds like a half truth, but you let it slide, not wanting to be too pushy on a first date.

“Oh?” You say, shifting in your seat, “How did you get started in that?”

“It just kind of.. picked me, I suppose.” Mikasa still isn’t meeting your eyes and you figure it’s time for a change of subject.

“How do you know Historia?” There, that should be a safe question. She was at Historia’s party last night, after all.

“We were friends way back in elementary school,” Mikasa explains, clearly relieved to have moved to something different. “I live one neighborhood over from her, so we’ve already just hung out together.” That makes sense to you- Annie has known Historia since high school, and Annie seemed to know of Mikasa.

“Got any embarrassing stories?” You know you probably shouldn’t ask but you can’t resist. The Historia you know is almost regal in nature, prim and perfect at all times. You can’t even imagine her as a child.

“Oh, do I ever,” Mikasa says, voice a little lower as she leans towards you, launching into a story from her childhood. You hardly notice your food appearing, and then barely taste it as you eat, hanging on Mikasa’s every word. She’s funny and engaging, and it’s not until you hear the pointed cough of the man behind the register that you realize it’s closing time for them.

“Yeah, Zeke, we’re going,” Mikasa says with a roll of her eyes as she pays him. He huffs at her a little bit but soon enough the two of you are sitting inside of her car, an awkward silence growing. What do you say now? You don’t want this date to end but would it be to forward to invite her over? Or will she invite you over? You don’t get too far into your thoughts when the car starts moving.

“Do you wanna come over?” She asks, the car sitting long at a stop sign. She’s looking dead ahead, fingers gripping the wheel so hard it turns white. She’s just as nervous as you are, you realize.

“Yes, please,” You manage to breathe out before continuing on, not wanting to sound rude, “If you want me to, that is.”

“Trust me, I want you to,” Mikasa replies, something laced in her voice but she doesn’t relax at all on the drive to her place. The drive is quiet, tense in a way you don’t understand, but there’s still an electric current in your veins as her house comes into view. It’s one neighborhood over from where you were last night, just like she said, a small place that looks like a two bedroom.

“I got it from my parents,” She explains as she leads you inside, locking the door behind you. “When they passed.” You’re not sure what to say at that but the moment passes. Mikasa leads you to the couch.

Now what?

“So,” You start, barely getting the word out before her lips are pressed against yours, pushing you back onto the couch. Her mouth is firm on yours, insistent. Her hands are on you, sliding down your sides, teasing your thighs under the hem of your dress. Her mouth moves to your neck, biting and kissing and sucking her way down.

It’s a lot, almost too much. You want to tell her to stop, to slow down a little but Mikasa presses forward, your dress sliding up as she slides down between your legs. The shadows on the wall dance in a weird way, that doesn’t seem to move with the way the lights are. You can’t voice anything as Mikasa’s mouth covers your pussy, mouthing at it over your underwear. Her spit wets the fabric, her tongue dragging over your clit, making your eyes roll back. Your fingers curl into fists at your side, legs spreading wider to accommodate her shoulders- which you realize seem too wide now.

You’re so close when your eyes finally open and you look down.

Mikasa isn’t between your legs.

Whatever’s taken her place isn’t human, the face looks human enough but his body (and he’s definitely a him- you think you almost recognize him) blends in with the shadow, tentacles sliding up behind him, reaching out for you.

“Hello,” The monster says, ignoring the way you scream. You manage to twist free, catching him by surprise as your hand shoots out to scratch right at his eyes. You’re on your feet, running as you hear two voices call out your name.

But your shoes, your stupid strappy sandals- your ankle rolls in them and then something grabs you before you fall completely, your head slamming against the front door as everything does dark.

“Wake up,” A harsh voice commands you. It’s a growl, in human and it seems to be inside of your head. You ignore it, trying to roll over, thinking you’re dreaming but you can’t move. That makes your eyes shoot open.

“You’re up!” The monster is looming over you, using it’s many tentacles to hold you down. Your clothes are gone, the cold air biting at your skin. You’re not even sure how it’s this cold inside of a bedroom, one that looks to be incredibly decorated as well. There’s a chair in the corner, a plush blanket under you. It almost looks like a hotel room.

“Mikasa brought you just for me,” It tells you , leaning in close, his tongue coming out to lick at your throat. “You’re so sweet, I can’t wait to play with you, can’t wait to eat you right up!”

“Let- let go of me!” You shout, trying to make your voice as loud as possible. Maybe a neighbor will hear you. Maybe the monster doesn’t like loud noises. “Mikasa!”

“You can scream all you want, nobody is coming to save you,” The monster seems to delight in the way his cruel words make you cry. “It’s just me and you.” It pauses. “Maybe I’ll let Mikasa play with you a little too, before I kill you. She really liked you, she almost didn’t want to give you to me.”

He leans closer, speaking into your ear, rancid breath sweeping over you, “But I insisted. And she won’t ever deny me.”

“Eren,” Mikasa’s voice comes from the door way, “There’s no need to be cruel.” She’s not looking at you at all, looking rapturously at the monster on top of you. She looks in awe, in love even.

And not even slightly afraid of him.

“You know they taste better when they’re afraid, Mikasa, how many times do I have to tell you that?” The monster, Eren, snaps at her, hardly giving her a second glance. A tentacle creeps up your leg, twisting around it, the tip grazing over your cunt. A shudder of revulsion runs through you when it taps your clit, sending a spark of pleasure through you. “It’s better when they fight it. It always is.”

“Whatever you say, Eren,” Mikasa gives a sigh, taking up the seat you saw before. She’s wearing sweat pants now, a sports bra, looking like she’s just came in from working out. There’s a light sweat on her skin.

“Going to watch this time?” Eren asks, shifting so he’s to your side now, his tentacles holding you open, putting you on display. You try to close your legs but he’s too strong, his grip too tight. “Normally you don’t. Is this one special?”

“You know as well as I do that she’s just like the rest of them,” Mikasa says, and that, more than anything is what breaks you. A sob tears from your throat, as reality comes crashing in. You’re nothing more than a mark- she was never really into you at all.

Of course, you think, why would anybody like her be into someone like you?

More of his tentacles come up, holding your pussy open to their gazes. Despite her harsh words Mikasa has a hard time looking away from it. Eren’s tentacles are softer than they look as one circles your clit, drawing wetness from you no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t want this.

The tip of the tentacle is insistent though, circling your clit with more pressure until your hips jump up, chasing after it when Eren moves it back. He laughs, mocking and mean, before returning to his ministrations. He’s not soft in the way he touches you, one tentacle coming up to start to slowly push it’s way inside of you. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before and it hurts.

“Stop,” You whine, hips twisting away from him as much as you can, “It hurts, please, stop!”

“I’ll stop when I’ve had my fill,” Eren replies, his voice mockingly sweet as the tentacle rams into you, splitting you open. The one circling your clit has left, leaving you reeling as your mind focuses in on the pain. The pace he sets is brutal, and his tentacle doesn’t feel like a cock or any of your toys. It squirms inside of you, pushing upwards along your front wall until-

“Fuck!” You wail now, thrashing on the bed. Eren smiles, and Mikasa gives a little whimper. You manage to look at her only to see her sat low in the chair, her own legs spread, with one of her hands down the front of her sweats, clearly touching herself while the other works at one of her nipples. “Please!”

“I knew you would beg,” Eren sounds delighted, “They always beg!” Your words seem to be what he was waiting for- the tentacle returns to your clit while the other attacks that spongy spot inside of you. You’re crying outright now, absolutely sobbing with- with everything, really. Your cries are of pleasure, of pain, of fear, of ecstasy. You cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

But Eren doesn’t stop.

He keeps going, now moving to to lap up your juices with his tongue, cleaning you as one orgasm trips into the next, and then another. You can’t tell if you ever really come down from one. It’s too much, it hurts again, and you don’t want this- you know you don’t want this, you want him to stop and-

You pass out, somewhere after what you think is an hour, if not more. Your mind blissfully goes blank, locking you away behind a door, away from your fractured reality.

People are talking above you, in quiet, hushed tones.

“We can’t keep her.”

“You said you just wanted a snack tonight, Eren. Not.. not that.”

“She’ll go to the police.”

“They won’t believe her, you know that. They didn’t believe Historia.”

“Historia was a child.”

“I’ll convince her she fell asleep or something, you know I can.”

“Fine. But Mikasa?”

“Yes?”

“Next time she’s mine.”

You don’t hear anything after that.

“Hey,” Mikasa is by your side. You’re back on her couch, clothes in place. You jerk up, away from her, looking for signs of what happened but there’s nothing. You don’t see any bruising. You feel sore between your legs, but nothing that would match what you went through. “You fell asleep. After we fucked.”

That’s not true, you know it isn’t true but the only other explanation doesn’t make sense. Monsters aren’t real. You weren’t… assaulted by one. Mikasa has to be right.

“Oh,” You struggle to sit up, feeling sluggish. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not like that.” The smile on Mikasa’s face is warm, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think I need to go home. I don’t feel so good. Can you take me?”

“Sure, of course,” Mikasa sounds relieved. That’s good, you think, she’s not mad at you. It must have been awkward for her when you fell asleep, had that nightmare. It felt so real. She helps you gather up your things. One of the straps on your sandal is broken. You’re not sure how but it’s a short walk to her car, you can go barefoot.

She starts it up, already talking to you about meeting up again, maybe next week if you want? You tell her it sounds nice, that you had a really good time tonight. You can’t tell how she’s lying through her teeth.

You give her home one last look as she pulls the car away.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the shadow in the window had a face, that it waved at you.

But you know better.

Monsters aren’t real.

[aggressivelyclueless]

ouija board

in which it gets out of hand. . . but only a little

warnings: v spooky

(heads up this one’s kinda long, whoops lol)

(@qoinq-qhost u were looking for more danny being a lil shit? vvvv)

Sam was just about ready to get the seance rolling.  Thundery and weeping outside, candlelight inside - it seemed like a good night for it.  This time around, there were four of them: her, of course; Felicity, from third-hour, had brought the board; her bestie Star (who Sam had almost uninvited, as she hadn't been deemed goth enough, but she owed Felicity a favour and letting this slip was it); and Star's boyfriend-of-the-week, Jake (also not goth, and very much on thin ice).

They sat clustered together on the full-moon rug in Sam's room, a jumbo bag of Chex Mix forgotten on the floor by Jake's backpack.  Only the little brown bits were left.  "You're host," Felicity was saying, scooting up into a proper cross-legged sitting position and centering the board on the carpet between them.  She produced the most important piece - the polished wooden planchet - and dropped it into Sam's waiting palm.  "You start."

Star opened her mouth, almost thought better of it, and then asked, "Are we going to get a demon?"

"That's not how this works," said Felicity, shooting Sam a look to keep her quiet.  Felicity had the tolerance for questions like those, and the patience not to be cross.  "We're not summoning demons.  We're communing with the dead.  There's a difference."

"Is it still going to be scary?"

Sam bit her tongue.  With luck, it would be, and she wouldn't have to deal with Star's antics next time, whether they were at her house or not.

"I don't know," said Felicity, "Maybe.  We've never done one at this house before.  We might not get a ghost at all."

Sam shrugged, setting the puck down in the center of the board and keeping her first two fingers on it.  The others scooted closer, getting comfortable, and followed suit.  The candleflames throughout the room were perfectly still.

"Is there anyone here with us tonight?"

For a moment: nothing.  She glanced up into the empty air, as if she could spot a slinking shadow on the wall or a flickering shape hovering by the ceiling.  She couldn't, even though she wanted to.

Then the slight pull of the token under their collective fingers, and the drawn scraping sound as it crawled slowly across the board: YES.

So they weren't going to come up empty tonight.  She glanced over at Star, wondering how intense things would get before she'd bail.  Sam was certain that, at some point, she would, or maybe she was getting her hopes up.  Star didn't exactly look like goth material.  All things considered, this was probably the wrong scene for her.

But she had owed Felicity that favour.

"Why are you here, spirit?" Felicity asked, shifting a little in place.  Right to the point.

The planchet under their fingers was still.  Sam knew the rules better than anyone: if the ghost chose to answer, it would have to tell the truth.

The ghost chose not to.

Star's eyes darted to Felicity, but there was a hesitation before she spoke.  When she did, the words were wrung-out and barely there.  "Ask him if he's friendly."

"You ask him," said Jake, nudging her with an elbow.  Between the four of them, he was the least invested in the endeavor, seeming more bored than anything.  He shrugged, trying to scoot his letter jacket a little higher on his shoulders without having to take his fingers off the puck.  The jacket refused.

"Okay."  Star took a deep breath, turning her eyes back to the board.  The planchet, for the time being, rested on YES.  "Ghost," she said, somewhat uncomfortable at directly addressing the dead, "Do you mean us harm?"

Immediately, she could feel the wooden puck go cold under her touch.  It slid off YES, veered partway across the board, and went still again.  The chill at her fingertips vanished.

"Don't like the looks of that," muttered Felicity.  "Sam, you think we should call this one off?"

Sam gave it a moment of consideration.  "I don't know.  Maybe, but not yet.  Let me try once."  She cleared her throat.  "Spirit - will you tell us your name?"

The planchet didn't have to think about it this time.  Star could feel the cold tingling in her fingers again as it moved, slowly but deliberately, and spelled out: JAMES.  She frowned.

"What's your purpose here, James?" Felicity ventured, but the ghost revealed nothing.  The silence stretched on; finally, she sighed.  "Doesn't like me much, does he?"

"I don't know," said Star, which she thought sounded better than a flat-out no.  It didn't do any good; Felicity was already looking a little put-out, and Star reached up with her free hand and patted her on the shoulder.  "Don't feel bad.  We still like you plenty, even if that silly ghost doesn't."

Sam fought back a groan of distaste.  Whatever Felicity saw in Star, Sam was seeing none of it.  She wanted to tune Star out, didn't want to see her so distracted as if communing with the dead was a mere game.

If things started to hit the fan, Sam was sure she'd never want to come again.  In fact, she was starting to count on it.

But would provoking the ghost be worth it?  "James," she said, still contemplating it, "Why are you here?  What is it you're seeking?"

The puck meandered for a moment, as if conflicted.  It rested on the empty part of the board between F and S, turned around, and aimed mostly toward H.

That was when Star jerked her hand back, as if the planchet had burned her.  All of a sudden she seemed to be paying attention; Sam wondered if she had finally realized what, exactly, they were dealing with.  Whether she did or not, it was too late.  She'd disrupted the connection.

Sam had never seen it, but she'd heard the stories of what happened at sessions when someone did that.

Every single candle around the room went out at once.

"Star, what the hell," said Felicity, "Remember how earlier I said you couldn't do that - "

Star's already-high-pitched voice was pinched.  "Sorry, sorry!  It's just it got cold all of a sudden, I thought he wanted me to - "

Sam scowled in the dark.  "What are you talking about, no it didn't - "

"It did so!  Just now!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I knew we shouldn't have invited you - "

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

The flash of lightning through the window made the ghost into a spindly and angular silhouette, floating in the air by the glass and jolting Star and Sam both out of their argument.  The planchet on the board, still under six fingers but by now forgotten, shot out from under them and flew across the room, bouncing off the side of the desk and skittering somewhere under the bed.

Oh, it was hitting the fan now, all right.  "This is your fault," Sam hissed through her teeth, glowering in Star's direction, but already her mind was racing to find a way to appease the disturbed spirit.  She'd held plenty of seances before, but generally found audience with lesser or fragmented dead.  Only twice had she been forced to close a session early.

Never had she met such an angry spirit before - and not only was it angry, it was in her room.

"Ideas," Felicity snapped, in an effort to keep Sam from boiling over, and in the same effort to keep Star from tears, "What do we do?"

"Run, maybe?" said Jake, but the sharp and thunderous BANG from the walls around them cut him off.  His eyes darted to the door, but it slammed itself shut before he could get up to his feet and make his escape.

"Hold on a sec, guys," said Sam, "Jake, sit down, we're not done yet - hang on, I said!  I got a flashlight."  She groped for her backpack, brushed over one of eight plushy spider feet, and yanked it unceremoniously into her lap.  Half-unzipping it, she produced the promised flashlight and clicked it once, twice, a handful of times in quick succession as nothing happened.  "Shit.  Shit shit shit - "

"There," Star whispered, her eyes fixed on the shadowy side of the room behind the bed.  She pointed with one manicured finger, making the rest of them turn to look.

The ghost was only there for an instant, hanging in the air as a smoky and ill-defined shadow against the hazy grey light from the window, but flickered away an instant later.  The pounding rain outside almost masked the haunt's staticky and echoing laughter.

Felicity put a hand over Sam's and tried not to squeeze it too hard.  Her fingernails dug in a little anyhow.  "Do you think we can still close this out?"  She didn't sound too hopeful.

"No," said Star, with a sudden and bone-chilling certainty.  "He's staying."

Sam looked over at her, agape.  How can you know that? she wanted to say, but her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't force it to move.  Star's eyes were on her; just for a moment, Sam swore there was a glint of something behind their usual blue-grey, but it was there and gone before she could be sure.

"We're staying," she said again, and this time Sam heard the echo in it, and this time the glint of green in her eyes lingered.  The ghost had her, appearing as a dark and swaying wisp in the air behind her, hands on her shoulders, keeping her still and calm.  Her eyes - the ghost's seyes - were on Sam, and a sudden, absurd thought struck her:

Isn't James his middle name?

The knot of rising terror in Sam's gut broke, and cold tingling relief poured over her.  For a moment she let it, willing the adrenaline to fade and the pounding heartbeat in her ears to settle, and then shifted gears.

That sonofabitch, I'll kill him for this one.

"No, you're not."

Star's head and the shadow's head cocked to one side in unison.  "No?"

Sam was locked on the spirit but her voice was directed at Felicity (and Jake, but to a lesser extent).  "Come here."

Felicity hesitated.  "What, are you serious - ?"

"Come here," Sam snapped, setting her first two fingers on the center of the board, ignoring the fact that the planchet was still misplaced somewhere under the bed.

"I don't like this," Felicity whispered, but followed Sam's lead regardless.

Star's fingers came out and rested gingerly on top, and Sam was certain that, underneath the veneer of shadows, the ghost was smiling.

"You listen to me, James," Sam commanded, with a seriousness that made Felicity and Jake both flinch, "You'd better get out of here."

Star's mouth turned up in a smile.  "And why's that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll banish you into next week."

"Sam," Felicity breathed, "I don't think that's such a good idea - "

"I'll do it," Sam reiterated, cutting Felicity off.

The smils on Star's face widened.  "Promise?"

Then the fingers on the board were moving, overcome by a pins-and-needles sensation that turned the board to static beneath them, and came to rest solidly over GOOD-BYE.

"See you then. . . "

Sam looked over and Star looked back at her with those big blue eyes.  She didn't seem distraught but Sam had to wonder how much of what had happened she'd remember.  She'd heard on several occasions that those puppeteered by the dead didn't tend to recall the influence, and Star wasn't horribly upset.

Still - she felt that ghost had crossed a line somewhere.  Crashing a seance, fine.  Overshadowing at said seance, even if he'd picked the least-favourite attendee?

That didn't sit right.

"You okay, Star?"

Star blinked once, twice, then cocked her head to one side and smiled.  "Of course I'm okay," she said, as if she hadn't been overshadowed at all, but the next thing out of her mouth, spoken with the utmost certainty, sent a chill down Sam's spine.

"He wasn't really going to hurt me, you know.  He let you win."

- - - -

Sam shut the door as the others left and then rounded on the ghost.  "I know you're still here.  There's no way you'd dip after a stunt like that."

(Damn right I wouldn't) said the shadowy thing under the bed, hauling himself out of the darkness a moment later.  In the light from the ceiling fixture overhead, the shadows fell apart, relenting to his more human texture and shape, and he shook the dustbunnies off once he got up to his feet.  In his hand was the forgotten token that went with Felicity's board, and he held it out to her.  "This is yours?"

Sam grabbed it from him, and only then did he get the impression that she wasn't entirely happy with him.  "You could have given me a heads-up, y'know."

"Hey, I was in the area, thought you could use a hand.  For goth cool points, or whatever."  Danny shrugged, leaning back and half-sitting on the side of the bed.  "I mean they do think you can scare off a real ghost now."

"And what the hell was with you overshadowing Star?" Sam went on, and at last the dopish grin at the corner of Danny's mouth vanished.  "So, okay, maybe I didn't want her to come.  But that doesn't mean you get to - "

"Wait, wait, hold on," Danny put a hand up in concession, "I didn't - well, I mean I did, but.  Listen for a sec, okay?  You don't like her, fine.  But I think something's up."

"Something's up," said Sam, nonplussed.  She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly in the desk chair and making it creak.  "You overshadowing people as a joke is what.  And whatever you were telling her in there, guess what  She remembers it now."

"That's what's up," said Danny impatiently, "I didn't tell her anything."

That made Sam pause.  "What?"

"You heard me.  But that's not it, let me say something else too.  I swear I'm not making this up: she saw me the second I drifted in the window.  I'm invisible and she's looking right at me.  The whole time.  It was like she was watching me."

"Bullshit," said Sam, wanting to believe it was.

Danny shook his head.  "You heard what she said.  After you banished me into next week."

"That you let me win," Sam recalled slowly.  In the moment, it had struck her as dumb-chills naivety on Star's part, but the way that Danny talked made it sound like she was serious.  Perhaps she'd just wanted to think that Star was that stupid.

"She knew it, and I didn't tell her.  I'm dead serious, Sam, she practically invited me to overshadow her.  I didn't even have to go all the way in her.  You saw it."

Sam had most definitely seen it.  "And what does this mean for the rest of us?  Or for you?  You're gonna tell me - what, she's going to miraculously guess you're half-ghost too?"

"I don't know - but you saw her the same as I did.  She wasn't scared of me.  Hell, I gave you guys a name and she was the one that didn't call me by it.  Like she knew it wasn't quite right."

"I get it," said Sam, thinking that maybe she would have been just as well off not calling him that either, "But what are we supposed to do about it?  Are you saying we should invite her onto the team?  Or what?"

Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair and letting it come to rest on the back of his neck.  He shrugged helplessly, his gaze picking out dustbunnies and imperfections in the floorboards at his feet.  "I don't know yet.  Keep an eye on her, maybe.  See if she starts saying things.  She's not as stupid as she looks, Sam.  Low bar, I know, but the last thing I need right now is somebody else to have to watch out for.  I know you don't like her.  I'm not asking you to."

He met her eyes then,  and the earnestness in them struck her.

"Just, don't let that put her in the way, okay?"

[chuckbass-love]

Johnny smut#4

Hello lovely anon. Thank you so much for this request, again, i’m sorry for the long wait but i didn’t want to write this when i didn’t have much motivation and then have it turn out any less than perfect. I hope it’s worth the wait for you and that you enjoy it.

Also a lil A/N for everyone: To everyone who has requested, i’m gonna get back on it and try and get at least 2 or 3 out per week if possible. I lost motivation for a hot minute but i’m back. I love you all so much. Also, part 7 to only love can hurt like this will be up sometime in the next week or so. I’m still working on it but i already can’t wait for you all to read.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Prompt #4: “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught”

Warning: Smut, explicit content, sexual intercourse, hair pulling, choking, mouth covering and swearing. 18+

Word Count: 5,160

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @mcustarks go check them out❤️

Best Friends Brother

As your eyes glance around the beautiful garden filled with white chairs either side of the aisle with flower arrangements all the way to the alter. You can’t help but feel utterly enchanted by the scene, it’s stunning. However, you’re in the wrong place right now, Sue specifically asked you to meet her out back to help her get ready but as soon as you turnaround to head there, you bump into Johnny of all people.

To put it simply, Johnny isn’t exactly your favourite person and you’re not his either. Well, that’s a lie. When around others you don’t get along, you don’t hate each other you just don’t really have much to say since he’s always so cocky and you’re his older sisters best friend. But behind closed doors, the sexual chemistry is off the charts and you’ve spent too many nights tangled up in his sheets to count on two hands.

No one knows about your late night rendezvous though, especially Sue. And she can never find out. It would hurt her. You’re her best friend and Johnny is her little brother. So it’s a secret and it will always remain one.

“Wow” his lips curl up into a genuine smile as his eyes take in your figure in the floor length  dark purple bridesmaid dress you have on “you look, great” he says as he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, clearly unable to stop those dirty thoughts running wild in his head.

“Just great?” you ask, brow raising slightly before you chuckle and move to walk past him but he grabs your arm just in time to stop you from going anywhere “not just great, but gorgeous. In fact if this wasn’t my sisters wedding then i’d say you were the best looking one here” he turns his head in your direction, his dreamy blue eyes meeting yours, both filled with lust and need. But you can’t do this here. Today is Sue and Reed’s day.

“Johnny” you whisper lazily, the feel of his skin on yours makes you shiver with desire for him to fill you up, kiss you and make you cum around his cock multiple times but that will have to wait. You really need to snap out of this. So you do, you blink and look back up at him before slowly pulling away from “Sue needs me now, i have to go” and just like that he’s behind you, watching as you walk away. Mostly just to watch the way your ass moves in that dress. You can’t say you blame him though, your ass does look good.

The second you step foot indoors you hear Sue moaning about anything and everything to who sounds like Alicia.

“Your saviour is here” you announce and Sue turns around, beaming at you and you can’t help but stare at her. She looks absolutely breathtaking and her dress is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. She looks just like a princess.  Alicia then leaves to go and check on Ben, leaving you two to it.

“Sue, you look amazing” tears brim in your eyes, drowning out your vision, she spots it immediately, rushing to hand you a tissue “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup”

You take it from her, dabbing underneath your eyes before taking the eyeliner from her to re do what couldn’t be saved in time “i can’t believe you’re finally getting your big day” you finish zipping up her dress before helping her out with her veil.

“Well i’ve waited long enough” she laughs as you finish up and you turn her round so she can look at herself in the mirror.

“Now, i just need to finish my make-up. Help a girl out?”

You don’t even bother to respond, instead you start helping, picking up her bag of products. Her foundation is done so it’s just her eye makeup and lipstick that’s left to do. You go with a nice subtle smokey eye with a little silver glitter on top. Then to finish it off you apply some nude lip gloss to her lips before leaving her to do her own mascara, you would hate to mess it up after all.

“Oh i forgot to check with you, is Johnny outside?”

Even the mention of his name has an obvious effect on your body and it’s something you’ve never been able to control but instead of letting it show, you put your poker face on, clearing your throat and mumbling a quick “yes” and thank god she doesn’t catch on or say anything. You must have hid it well.

“Right, ladies the guests are arriving now and Reed is helping them all to their seats so are you ready?” Johnny pokes his head into the room and Sue nods, letting out a deep breath.

He glances at you before Sue walks over to him to make their way to the other room in which she’s going to be leaving out of to walk down the aisle, leaving you standing there sighing.

Guess it’s time for you to take your own place too. You follow closely behind them and then you and Alicia wait for your queue to go, she goes first, then you. Flowers in hand, smiling around at all of the guests, every one of them dressed up in bright colours, wedding hats galore. And as you take your place next to Alicia at the side of the alter, you watch your best friend walk down the aisle with pride. She means the world to you and if there’s one person who’s the most deserving of happiness, it’s her.

Reed wipes away tears as she stands next to him and you feel your heart melting, more tears forming. Johnny watches you from across the way, wiping your own tears of joy before his focus shifts to the vows.

Sometimes he gets urges to ask you out on a date but as quickly as those urges form, they fade. There’s not a chance in hell of you saying yes to him and he knows it. He’s just a hookup and he’s no stranger to half platonic relationships. He’s never particularly been one for commitment anyway but something about you changes his mind. Since you’ve been Sue’s best friend for god knows how long now, he’s watched many guys come and go in and out of your life. He’s watched and even listened to the many times Sue has held you whilst you cried and to tell the truth, he’s never been able to fathom why anyone would ever want to hurt you. Why anyone would ever cheat or leave you. He always had the biggest crush on you and it’s never left. 

Hence why one day he made a move, giving you his best cheesy pick up line at a party Sue threw one weekend. But you ignored him, it was only 2 hours into the party and you weren’t drunk enough to be taking him seriously. However, multiple drinks and shots later, he tried his luck again, and he hit the jackpot. You took him up on his offer. Whilst Sue was in the other room trying to clean up after her guests, you were in Johnny’s room, stripping off in-between heated open mouthed kisses.

It’s pretty obvious where that lead and the next day, you were so mad at yourself for letting it get that far. You cursed alcohol and your stupid brain as you quickly re dressed, repulsed at yourself and your actions. That’s when Johnny shot up, trying his best to make you stay, shutting the door as you tried to open it and standing in the way. You made eye contact with the player and he kissed you. You can’t recall anything else other than feeling captivated by him. His lips moved in sync with yours like they were always made to touch and you couldn’t control the way your body yearned for more.

And the rest is history. Since then you’ve been late night texting and meeting up whenever you could to hook up. Johnny eventually got his own apartment too which only lead to more often than not, the pair of you fucking like rabbits.

It hasn’t just been hookups though, as much as you’d love to lie and pretend that it doesn’t mean a thing, it does. You like Johnny, of course you do. He’s actually the only guy that’s ever been able to make you cum. The only guy who isn’t completely selfish in bed. He makes it all about you, every dam time and you feel torn when it comes to him. A huge part of you knows the two of you feel something deeper and more than just sex. You feel something more intimate. It’s definitely not love but it could be, one day.

Before you know it, you’re ripped from your Johnny themed thoughts as everyone starts cheering and clapping. You join in, watching Reed kiss Sue passionately before the two of them walk back up the aisle. You, Alicia, Johnny and Ben all follow behind with the guests joining in.

The reception is just inside and as soon as you all enter, the music begins. The real old school music. You’re The One That I Want from Grease. The DJ really has a way of luring everyone onto the dance floor right away. Usually at weddings, everyone sits down drinking and chilling before the buffet food comes out but not this wedding.

Sue grabs your hand and the two of you re enact the classic Sandy and Danny scene, overly dramatic though of course and unbeknownst to you, Johnny is watching your every move, unable to stop himself grinning like a cheshire cat. It’s very clear you’re having the time of your life and all he wants is to be able to dance with you.

Once the song is over, you walk around the room to look for the table that you’re going to be sitting at until you hear “over here” and you know that voice anywhere. You turn around to find Johnny sat down, a large glass of wine next to his beer. He ordered for you? Why?

“You’re next to me, hope that’s okay” he stands up, helping you into your chair and tucking it in for you before taking his seat again and sliding the glass of wine to you.

“White wine is still your favourite, right?” nerves fill his voice as he keeps his eyes locked on you “yes, it is. You remembered. Thank you” you waste no time in taking a big gulp of it, you can practically feel yourself getting aroused just by sitting next to the man and to think you’re going to have to deal with it the whole day is torture.

You press your thighs together, trying your hardest to stop whatever is happening in its tracks.

“You not going to dance some more?” he asks, sitting back in his chair, one arm draped round the back of yours “maybe in a minute, i’m still recovering from the first one” you giggle nervously, scared of being seen with him. Sure, you were put with him by Sue herself but what if your farce comes apart now, after all, he is being nice to you and the resting bitch face is missing instead a happy expression has taken its place.

Maybe no one will notice since it’s Sue’s big day, that could be the excuse you use if anyone says anything but then again, why should you care to make excuses? If you enjoy his company that shouldn’t be an issue. Maybe Sue won’t care. She’s always wanted Johnny to settle down with someone nice and you’re nice, right? She’s also wanted you to find someone too. But her best friend and brother getting together probably isn’t what she had in mind.

The song Crazy In Love by Beyonce comes on and Sue practically summons you to the dance floor, so you down the rest of your wine before you rush over to join her. Skipping the regular moves, you and Sue both start dancing like it’s just the two of you. No move off limits as you both grind your hips in circles, shaking your asses and laughing your heads off. She is the only person in this world that can make you laugh like that and you feel incredibly lucky to have her and to be here for her big day.

As your moves get more risqué you catch Johnny adjusting his cock in his dress trousers before drinking more of his beer.

The tension is building within you and you’ve never had to fight temptation so much in the whole year that you two have been doing this. You’re usually very good at waiting and making him wait for it but right now, it’s too hard. The next song that comes on is Check On It by Beyonce, again.

The more of the song that you dance to, you notice the lyrics surprisingly match your situation and a wave of confidence drenches you like rain.

If you got it flaunt it, boy I know you want it While I turn around you watch me check up on it Oh you watchin me shake it, I see it in ya face Ya can't take it, it's blazin’, you watch me in amazement

You continue to show off your best assets, making sure you tease and wind him up more before you make any kind of move which is what you usually do. Any time the two of you fool around, you make him wait and earn it, but it’s one of many reasons why he loves hooking up with you, you’re not easy, you know your worth and you’re 100% worth the wait.

The song finishes leaving yourself and Sue breathless almost. Reed stalks closer, handing his bride a drink and you head over to the bar to get another for yourself before sitting back down again. The buffet will be available soon and you’re desperate for something to eat. Peckish isn’t the word.

“Hello again” Johnny beams and you sip some more wine, a rather big sip yet again before you respond “hello. Are you gonna sit here the whole night?” you question with genuine curiosity, he only really danced a little when the Grease song was on but that’s about it and you aren’t oblivious to the other women checking him out.

“No i intend to dance i just need to be drunk enough for it first”

“I see, maybe then one of those lovely ladies will get a chance to dance with you” you say, observing one in particular who has been staring non stop.

“Please, i’d rather dance with you”

Your heart skips a beat and dare you say it, your vagina develops one. He’s such a sweet talker.

“You looked good out there, y’know” he motions towards the dance floor as if you didn’t already clock on to what he meant and you can’t deny the way your cheeks start to heat up as you thank him shyly.

That’s when he leans closer to your ear, his arm round the back of your chair again as he rasps “and that ass of yours in this dress, baby you got me so hard” his breath fans your neck as he returns to his normal sitting position but he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches at the dirty comment. He knows all too well the effect he has on you and you know the effect you have on him.

In the past all it’s taken for him is for you to bite your lip and stare him down for him to get hard before. You’re his weakness.

Before you can even go to respond to him though, he clears his throat, tapping away on his phone as he stands up “anyway, if you’ll excuse me, nature calls” he slips his phone back into his pocket, walking away towards the toilets which just so happens to be right behind the DJ.

Your phone buzzes and you check to see a message from him ‘You coming?’ the text reads.

And that alone is enough for you to choke on your own saliva. You quickly sip your drink before standing up yourself and making your way over to the mens toilets. Thank God no one saw you.

“Johnny” you whisper yell until one of the cubicle doors opens, the bigger one at the end. He winks at you as he appears in the doorway and you strut over to him, allowing him to pull you in and lock the door. Your body is flush against his as he starts to kiss your collarbone first. If Johnny is anything it’s a man who loves to savour the moment. He hates quickies and loves to take his time with you.

You’re obviously not the first woman to fall victim to his touch but you’re the only one right now and you’re glad that he’s had experience, it’s clearly made him all the more sensational  in the bedroom.

“Oh” you throw your head back on a quiet moan, hoping not to be too loud despite music blasting outside making it impossible for anyone to hear you.

“Every time you dance, you drive me crazy. Shaking that perfect ass of yours in this dress, making me want you so bad” his lips hover over your sweet spot, his breath fanning it just like it did before.

You wrap your arms loosely round his neck as your back arches and his lips attack your neck like a man possessed, everything about this moment should feel wrong and yet it feels so right. The thought crosses your mind that everyone is out there dancing and most likely eating now all while Johnny is playing with your dress, lifting it up to reveal the new panties that you brought for today. Purple lace to match your dress.

“Oh baby” he groans, tugging on his bottom lip at the sight as his fingers wonder down and slip inside. His cold palm cups your sex making you shiver in surprise before he makes you forget all about it by spinning you around so that you’re pressed against the wall. Caged in by his muscular body as he towers over you.

He presses a chaste kiss to the back of your neck and heat starts to rise to your cheeks, you can’t contain the flustered feeling that fills you. He’s always had a way of being so dominant and stealing all control from you in an instant, since you’re so used to the roles being reversed in your life, he was more than into changing that. And to tell the truth, it’s one of the many reasons that you keep coming back. He pushes you out of your comfort zone in more ways than one.

His fingers play with the flimsy material of your new panties, grazing over your clit multiple times until you’re poking your ass out into his hand. “Someones keen, huh?” his low, raspy and taunting chuckle fills your ear sending shivers up and down your spine and causing goosebumps to form all over your hungry body.

“Please, Johnny” you beg pathetically, once again pushing back against his hand in hopes that he’ll get a move on and touch your properly. Which of course he does. You know he can never resist your charm. All the more reason why he’s slipping your panties to the side now so that his fingers can circle your arousal covered hole, almost dipping into your honey pot but holding back.

“Beg for it” he growls, taking your right earlobe between his teeth and biting down lightly “beg like the good girl i know you are” he continues and you gasp before breathing out a quick plea “p-please touch me Johnny, i need it” as your hands find purchase on the wall.

The feel of his knee spreading your legs apart gets you all the more excited for what’s the come and that’s when he gives you all that you’ve been craving, slipping two thick digits inside of you, coating them in your juices as they hit that spongy spot. He’s never had much trouble when it comes to finding your weak spots, he knows your body inside and out at this point and there’s not a time where you don’t cum when you’re with him.

“That good baby? My fingers getting that little cunt ready for my cock”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head in reaction to the pure filth leaving his not so innocent mouth and just as you go to let out a near enough pornographic style moan, throwing your head back too, the restroom door opens making you stop yourself. Footsteps make their way to one of the cubicles that just so happens to be next to the one your in.

Johnny then takes it upon himself to pull his drenched fingers out of you, reaching his hand in front of your face and shoving them into your mouth for you to suck on, using his free hand to undo his belt and now you know that you’re done for. You know exactly what he’s about to do. His cock rests at your entrance, staying there for a second before he slides in. Your walls welcome him in the best way, wrapping around his cock as he splits you open, stretching you beautifully yet again just like he does every time. The all too familiar feeling consumes you.

“You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught” he mutters in hushed tones, switching it up so that his hand is fully covering your mouth, suffocating you as he drags his cock along your warm velvety walls deliciously. Obviously you don’t want to get caught but right now the anticipation of what could happen is enough to make you clamp down around him, earning a hiss.

A noise that obviously catches the attention of whomever is next door to your cubicle since the unsuspecting gentleman speaks up “are you okay in there, man?” shit. It’s Ben. You feel a wave of shame wash over you as Johnny picks his pace up slowly “yeah, everything's fine” he chirps, as if he has all the time in the world to converse when he’s buried balls deep inside of you.

“If you say so” Ben responds before flushing, washing his hands and then leaving the room. Now it’s just the two of you again. Johnny takes full advantage of the alone time by pushing you right up against the wall, your cheek squished against the tiles, his calloused hands splaying across your ass cheeks now and spreading them apart. Only so he can take a good look at the way he disappears into your tight chanel with ease.

“Doing so well baby, taking this cock like a fucking pro” he grunts, wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling your head back with the help of his other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair at the scalp but keeping your whole body pressed into the wall.

Sinful moans escape your mouth and at this point you’re way past the point of caring or trying to be quiet. Unless someone walks in then you’re going to let go and revel in the feel of him. The way his body traps you in makes your clit pulsate, you love being manhandled and you always have but only by him.

Anyone that takes even so much as a look at Johnny, they think ‘player’ and they’d be right but they’d also think he’d never be the type of man to be as filthy as he is in reality. Not only has he got a foul mouth on him but he’s kinky not to mention skilful in more areas than one. Dick and tongue game on point as well as those magical digits of his and the way they dance across your sex both delicately and brutally all at the same time.

You’re certainly not complaining though. 

“Fuck, Johnny” your back arches even more so than it was before as you shakily cry out his name with the kind of want that only he can spur on “what is it baby?”

“Don’t stop, i’m so close” you whimper desperately.

His pace is now rendering on animalistic as he fucks you into the wall with such vigor, wanting nothing more than to feel you come undone all over his cock, something he’ll never grow tired of.

“Come on then baby, give it to me” he eggs you on, keeping one hand wrapped around your neck still, tightening as the seconds tick by whilst his other hand smacks down on your exposed ass cheek, making it wobble a little which earns him a satisfied hum.

The two of you go crazy with you pushing back to meet his thrusts and him spanking your ass, both of you hungry for that release.

All of a sudden though the blaring music coming from outside stops. Making you panic. Johnny on the other hand is so close to reaching his peak and he knows you are too, so he doesn’t bother to stop.

But you hear the faint laughs of the wedding guests before what sounds like the DJ addressing everyone. Fuck. This better not be the speeches. You had one planned and so did Johnny.

He continues to fuck into you, grunting, growling and panting in your ear, driving you closer and closer to that edge. You can feel the coil twisting and turning in your stomach, on the verge of snapping at any second and you don’t think you’ll be able to hold back the noises when it happens.

“Gonna make you cream all over this cock baby and best believe i’ll be filling this sweet cunt up with my cum”

You rest your hand over his around your neck as your whole body starts to shake. You clench around his cock some more and just as you can taste the orgasm, the addition of his fingers pressing down on your clit push you off the edge and your head drops back onto his shoulder. The music starts up again, allowing you to really enjoy this. Your mouth hangs open whilst you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars as you fall into a pit of ecstasy. You can feel your legs shaking and threatening to give way but luckily for you Johnny moves his hands to your waist, wrapping around you so he can hold you up whilst he comes close to reaching his own end.

“Fuckkkkk, squeezing me so good baby”

You do it again for good measure and sure enough, he twitches inside of you, his hot cum painting your walls just like he said and a fucked out spent smile forms on your face making him laugh when he sees.

He rides the two of you through your highs before his thrusts come to a halt and he slowly pulls out. He then grabs some tissues, dropping to his knees and pressing yet another chaste kiss to your clit this time before cleaning you up. He can see that you’re struggling to stand so the second he’s done he rises to his feet, pulling you flush against him and then proceeding to push you up against the wall.

The two of you stare deep into each others eyes for a couple seconds, both of your chests rising and falling as you try to normalise your breathing. That was certainly an adventurous, dangerous and thrilling experience, one that you won’t be rushing to partake in again anytime soon. But it was amazing to say the least. The way he’s looking at you right now makes you want to throw caution to the wind and kiss him. So you do. You crash your lips to his, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and as expected, he kisses back. His grip tightens on your hips, pulling you even closer if that’s even possible.

“What was that for?” he asks as you come up for air and you shrug, not even sure of what it was yourself. But all you know is you like him and this isn’t just some fling to you, some form of messing around until the two of you get bored. There is a genuine connection there, one that you can’t wait to explore some more.

“I don’t even know” you giggle, pecking his lips again.

Silence falls upon the two of you before he finally blurts out “go out with me” as if he’s telling you rather than asking.

“What?” you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Go out with me, on a date”

“I thought Johnny Storm didn’t do dates” you quip back, raising your brows with a smirk to match “i don’t but i’d like to try if it’s with you” and that alone warms your heart. The same heart that’s been crushed and broken so many times before and it’s almost like he’s mending it. Not that you’re complaining.

You take no longer than a second to think before you’re agreeing and kissing him some more. That’s when the music stops and you both look at each other.

He quickly zips up his pants, doing his belt up again and shrugging his jacket back on before turning back to you. With you both now looking decent again, you get him to check your makeup, he wipes the stray bits of mascara that smudged before kissing your forehead.

He lets you leave first whilst he waits an appropriate 2 minutes before he heads out too. No one suspected a thing and now it’s time for the speeches.

This is definitely going to be a wedding to remember...

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

Me and all my hoe personalities after writing this one: 

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans 

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @whxre4cevans

LMK if you wanna be added to my tag list...

[hxneekyuu]

accidental kiss || tsukishima kei, ennoshita chikara, miya atsumu, lev haiba

request :  Hey Can I request a headcanon or one shot with Haikyuu characters (any of your choices) having an accidental kiss with their crush, you know, the cliché romance scene in drama's where the girl fell and male catches her and end ups kissing, or something when the girl turn around not noticing the close distance between the male, and their lips touches. Anything that is accidental

warnings : miya atsumu, Suna Gets a Haircut

a/n : so i did one of those random hq generator things bc i could only decide on one boi and that was tsukki,,, the results made me laugh so here you go -- btw these are all gonna be pre-dating bc thats just wonderful we love that

tsukishima kei

this is definitely all tsukkis fault

you two are at your house just vibing and at some point you head into the kitchen to make food

and hes leaning against the counter right in front of the cabinet you need to get to

but he has the audacity not to move the fuck outta the way when you tell him you need to get past 

so youre like ok fuck it and just reach around him to open it 

but the bowl you need is pretty high up so youre like on your tippy toes tryna get the damn thing and hes just sitting there watching you struggle 

instead of helping you like he isnt damn near 6′3″

but riiiiight as youve got the bowl, you end up grabbing it a little too forcefully and you bring like a million dishes down with it 

so ofc even though he definitely deserves it, youre not trying to concuss the poor guy with literal ceramic dishes raining down on him 

so you kinda lunge forward to stop them all from falling 

and, hearing the crash of dishes over his head, he naturally ducks because he doesnt want to die

honestly,,,, its more of a crash of your noses and foreheads but theres such chaos of like,,, trying not to die?? 

that at some point you just feel his mouth on yours and it deadass just stays there while you both are figuring out what the hell is happening 

eventually he kinda pulls back but only a little bc he knows youre struggling to hold onto the dishes and he doesnt wanna screw that up

and he doesnt even say anything he just reaches up awkwardly and helps you set the dishes back on the shelf

and then he grabs the bowl youd been trying the get the entire time and hands it to you with a completely blank face 

its a very awkward dinner im not gonna lie

mostly bc at some point he just starts cracking jokes about it and refuses to acknowledge it seriously bc he sucks

ennoshita chikara

ennoshita’s taking a break from studying with the second years on the team

mostly bc he never gets any studying done with them 

so youre studying together for a test at his house

and its just been many many hours of studying so ofc youre both exhausted

so its not surprising to him when you just pass out on your notes

but the thing is,,, your heads right on top of a sheet that he needs

and for a while he just kinda studies without it

he studies other stuff and tries to remember it on his own so he can fill in the gap in his notes

but eventually hes like fuck i really need these notes

so he just,,, tries to slide it out from under your head really carefully

and it involves a lot of him getting really close and trying to lift your head and a bunch of really soft cute things that would be super embarrassing for him to be caught doing

like,,, if you happened to wake up

which of course, you do

and youre really confused bc you can feel his breath fanning over your face and his eyes are really close but not focused on you, theyre focused on smth under your face

so you lift your head to see what hes doing

but he freaks out and moves his face when he notices youre awake

and its just a litto brush of your lips over his as your faces are passing each other

but the poor bub jumps back like you just shocked the crap out of him

and then he apologizes for like the next ten minutes and its impossible to get back to studying bc youre both just panicking internally

miya atsumu

this literally happens like it does in the movies

it all starts with a chase scene

that really you should never have been a part of

youre just minding your business walking down the hall after school on your way to get your stuff

and its pretty empty bc you had a club thing so its late afternoon and no ones around

and you just hear it

men screaming

and then he appears, barreling around the corner like his life depends on it

and youre like

this cant be good

and when he sees you hes yelling out for you like HELP ME 

but you somehow always manage to get caught in the miya twin antics so youre like

fuck no im out

but apparently youre not out bc atsumus grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him yelling smth about scissors and a haircut

and when you look back you just see suna rounding the corner, half of his little triangle haircut chopped off so he looks like a sad half onigiri,,,

but you know it was atsumu and that this man is definitely dead when suna catches him

so youre like okay fuck it i guess im helping him AGAIN 

and you get outside to a section of the school where theres still sports teams practicing and lots of people around so you hide in a corner together

but the Suna Energy is approaching so atsumu fuckin freaks and does that cheesy movie thing where he ducks his head down so he wont be seen 

but theres like a group of guys passing by and one of them just bumps into atsumus back and that shit just sends him right into you

and all he can think is “oops”

he only has one brain cell give him a break

but he just stalls completely and forgets about the whole suna thing

but ofc his hair is fucking piss yellow and suna has not forgotten

he ends up totally getting his ass beat  but after that little smooch atsumus definitely a bit keen to see you more often 

lev haiba

i fucking love this gif look at the litto shoyou go

this tall babie does not know the meaning of personal space he has no functional understanding of a Bubble

honestly he probably gets dangerously close to kissing you on a regular basis, considering you’re seatmates in class

he’s just ALWAYS in your space

at first he’s probably shy bc he doesn’t know you

but once you become friends he’s like THIS IS NOT YOUR DESK THIS IS JUST MY SECOND DESK

so every day there’s always one thing that’s super dangerous

last week it was him looking over your shoulder while you did work silently

yesterday it was him reaching across you to open the window on your left side

today he just really wants a bite of the bread you bought and are currently already eating

and when he wants smth, he gets Very Whiny

he’s so clingy and adorable that you can’t ever get mad

he’s like a little puppy how can you resist him

so when you’re finally like okay fine you can have a bite he’s like

MONCH

he doesn’t even wait for you to tear off a piece he just leans in for a bite

but you had said yes while in the middle of biting it so he essentially does that thing where you’re both biting it at the same time

but, again, he doesn’t know what personal space means

so he also doesn’t have the ability to gauge distances well

so he straight up just meets you halfway and presses his mouth to yours while he’s biting down

the boi probably doesn’t even notice

he just pulls back quickly once he has his bite and goes about his life

you literally are going to have to tell him he just kissed you

and after that he’s a total fucking mess

he doesn’t know what to do he never knows what to do

he’s just going to keep causing Chaos while he panics