#i half assed this but it was rattling around in my brain and i had 2 do sumn w it

[sawvhs]

saw (2004) dir. james wan // who are you? - ajj

[sturnsdarling]

teenage dirtbags, part two

Skater!Matt goes to overachiever!readers dorm so she can help him with his essay

vibe check: bickering, matt fancying the fuck out of reader but being unaware, reader being a snob, kind of flirting? idk if you can call it that lol.

1.7k words

A/N: this is so FUN. in my head, Matt has always secretly thought reader was gorgeous, but any and all good natured feelings were swallowed by an avalanche of irritation and borderline hatred

intro, part one

love and cigs, merc

You were sat on the floor of your dorm, clad in a big knit jumper, little shorts and fluffy socks, cross legged on the carpet with a pencil dangling from your mouth as you scanned the margins of some 19th century text about the French Revolution.

You were pulled from your focus by the sound of your door rattling, three short knocks sounding through your room over the low hum of your record playing in the back.

You looked to your watch, 7:03, Matt was actually on time.

You pushed yourself up off the floor and made your way over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open with a less than welcoming look on your face. You were met with Matt, board in hand and headphones hung round his neck, a flat grin on his face that quickly dropped.

Matt couldn't help but scan your figure, he'd never seen you in anything other than your clean cut outfits, so seeing you in a baggy jumper that hung off your bare shoulder and shorts that just covered your ass was, interesting.

"come in" you said, pulling Matt from his accidental objectifying gaze and stepping to the side to let him in.

"thanks" Matt said as he walked past you, taking in the sight of your room, it actually did smell like vanilla and academic over achievement.

You had more books than he had ever seen in his entire life, the walls covered by rows of bookshelves all packed to the brim with classic literature.

"this is a lot of books" Matt said, gawking at your collection.

You nodded, lips tucked between your teeth as you raised your brows slightly.

"have you read all of these?" Matt asked, pointing at the shelves.

you scoffed with a smile, "no" you shook your head, "just over half, probably"

"that's still impressive" Matt shrugged, dropping his stuff on the floor.

"should we get started?" You said, wanting to cut the small talk and get this over with.

"yeah, sure" Matt said, following your movement and sitting on the floor opposite you, pulling a bunch of crumpled up notes from his bag.

You looked at them in disgust as he tried to flatten them out on the floor, shaking your head as you got up, scanning over your shelves to find anything you had on existentialism. You pulled a few books out and returned to the floor, opening them and scanning over the pages. Your movement grabbed Matts attention, him watching you intently as you began to rip through all the possible approaches he could take, listing off essay summaries as if you knew them like the back of your hand.

Matt wasn't listening, mostly because he had no idea what you were talking about, but also because your hair was falling in your face slightly as you leaned down to scan the books, the strands framing your face perfectly as you spoke with your plump, glossy lips. Matt noticed the small constellation of freckles on your nose, how your eyes darted around the room as you spoke, as if you were literally searching your brain for information, how your brows knit together every time you said 'obviously' and how...what the fuck is going on

"are you even listening?" you snapped, pulling matt from his haze.

"huh?" he said, meeting your glaring eyes, "yeah, yeah, I'm listening" Matt said, shaking the thoughts from his brain.

"because I don't have to do this for you, you know that right? I have much better things to be doing with my time and you're honestly the last person I want to spent my evenings helping" you began to complain, your tone cocky and fed up

"charming" Matt scoffed, "trust me, y/l/n, you're not exactly someone I want to be spending my evenings with either" Matt quipped back, matching your cadence.

"right, well, maybe if you listen to me, this can go a lot faster, and we can go back to pretending we don't know each other" you said with finality.

"fine" Matt shrugged, holding your eye contact

"fine" you repeated, having to get the final word

Matt chuckled, shaking his head with a slight eye roll. You squinted at him, scrunching your face up as his attitude.

"what?" you spat.

Matt couldn't help but grin, "you haven't changed at all" He met your gaze once more.

"what are you talking about?" you said, your voice thick with attitude.

"you always have to have the last word" Matt shifted where he sat, bringing his knee up as a rest for his arm.

"no, I don't" you replied with a scoff.

"yeah, you do" Matt grinned, nodding.

"no, I don't" you pushed.

Matt didn't respond, only raised his eyebrows and tightened his smile, looking at you in an accusatory manner, as if you responding the way you did only proved his point.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and returning your attentions to the book in your lap, "lets just get this over and done with"

The rest of the night went...fine. There was some bickering, mostly started by Matt not listening or simply being himself. You ended up getting his introduction done before you decided it was time to take a break, needing to decompress from all the arguing.

You and Matt sat in silence, you fidgeting with your pen as you scanned over what Matt had written and Matt wandering around your room like a lost puppy, in his search through all your things, his attention was caught by the crates of records that looked as if they were holding up your mattress.

There were hundreds of them, all in alphabetical order, stacked on top of each other in the makeshift bed frame you had made with the crates. Matt scanned the names, in awe of the fact that not only did you collect music, but it was good music. Maybe you did have something in common.

"are these all yours?" Matt said, unable to take his eyes off your collection.

You looked up from the page, looking over to Matt who was crouched on the floor, peppering soft touches with his long, slender fingers over the spines of the records.

"who else's would they be?" you said, raising a brow at him as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"this is an impressive collection, y/l/n" Matt said, ignoring your attitude.

"thanks" you cocked your eyes to the side, generally irritated by him regardless of what he said.

"I didn't know you fucked with music like this" Matt returned his attention to the stacks, "maybe you're not as lame as I thought you were" he looked back to you with a boyish grin

You screwed your face up at him, giving him the biggest condescending smile you could muster up. Matt cheesed at your face, looking back to the music and scanning some titles.

"oh shit, Fleetwood Mac, I fuckin' love them" Matt said, pulling out the Rumours album and turning it over to read the track list, "still not as good as their self titled album from 75" Matt shook his head, putting the record back in its spot.

"are you serious?" you scoffed, "Rumours is easily their best album"

"absolutely not" Matt shook his head, sitting back down opposite you.

you simply stared at him for a moment, trying to process your bafflement, "In what universe is self titled better than Rumours?" you put the page in your hand down, leaning your palm on the floor so your body was towards Matt, your movement causing your jumper to fall down your shoulder slightly lower.

"In this universe?" Matt chuckled, "self titled has Rhiannon and Monday morning" He shifted, one leg tucked beneath him with the other acting as a perch for his arm, knee in the air with his foot on the carpet.

"and Rumours has the chain?" You pressed, "and dreams"

"okay, and?" Matt shrugged with a grin, drawing out his first word.

"you can't be serious?" you shook your head, "Rumours is incredible, you can literally feel the tension between the band with every sentence they sing, the energy is on a different level"

"so the album is good because everyone was beefing? how does that correlate to good music" Matt pushed, only slightly relishing in how worked up you we're getting.

"because?" you scoffed, "it's real, and raw, and the live shows were insane"

"you don't think self titled was real and raw?" Matt raised his brows at you.

"no, idiot, I didn't say that" you rolled your eyes, "rumours is just different, it was like all the anger from everything that happened was spilling out over the sheet music, it was...beautiful" your eyes wandered the ceiling as you explained your reasoning to Matt.

He couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, watching you speak so passionately about something other than how much you despised him was awe inducing, especially something like music, which he would have never have pegged you to care about this much.

You continued to argue your point, but the feeling of Matts eyes on you made your cheeks warm, and you stopped your rambling to look at him.

"what?" you deadpanned, cocking your eyes to the side quickly.

Your change in tone snapped Matt back into reality, and he was quickly reminded of who he was gawking at.

He cleared his throat, "nothing" he dropped his gaze from you, searching the floor for something to pay attention to other than the strange feeling in his stomach.

You furrowed your brows at him, watching the top of his head as he clearly tried to avoid eye contact with you at all costs. what the fuck was that about? you decided not to look into it too much.

"lets carry on, yeah?" Matt said, opening the book in his lap and clearing his throat once more.

"alright" you said, ignoring the tension in the air and returning your attention to the paper in your lap.

You spent the rest of the evening in silence, only talking if you really needed to and staying a good five feet apart at all times. Matt left once you had finished the outline for the body of his essay, still not looking at you for any longer than a second and hurrying out your room moments after you said that you could pick where you had left off tomorrow.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

[barcaatthemoon]

balancing act || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you struggle to find balance between school and playing for barcelona, and your teammates try to help you.

you were on the verge of tearing your hair out as you stared at the notebook in front of you. it was one of the last games of the season, and you were at the front of the bus studying for your finals. your parents had been on your ass since your last test had come back with a 76. that was better than most of your class, but your parents didn't care.

they wanted you to have something to fall back on, insistent that football wouldn't be there forever. you didn't want to believe them, you couldn't. they wanted you to go away to university and put all of the football stuff behind you within the next few years. it was one thing to do it while you were young, but they didn't see it as a full fledged career.

you hated hearing them try to convince you to look into other options. your team was fully supportive of what you wanted to do. they saw the way that you worked hard, not just relying on your talent. there was no question that you'd be a staple of barcelona football for years to come, possibly even decades. there were already news outlets calling you the future alexia putellas.

"chica, it is so boring in the back of the bus without you," mapi whined. she dropped into the seat next to you suddenly. you usually hated it whenever mapi interrupted your work, but now, she was a welcome distraction. you weren't going to understand your math any more when all of the numbers blended together. "what the hell is that?"

"calculus," you answered plainly. mapi pulled a face as she pushed it away from you, nearly knocking it onto the floor. she put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards her. mapi wouldn't be playing today, but she was so excited to get to come along after having had to stay behind for the past couple of games. "what are you doing up here? i thought alexia banished you away from me."

"oh, keira and tana thought that you looked like you needed a break. nothing helps clear the mind better than some quality mapi time!" mapi exclaimed. she rattled off about a million games that the two of you could play for her allotted half hour with you, but all you wanted to do was take a little nap. fortunately for you, mapi had great shoulders to rest against.

it barely took any time for you to fall asleep with mapi. you had more studying to do, but mapi shooed alexia away when she came up to remind you. alexia had a tendency to push, and if it wasn't for mapi, you definitely would have broken down much sooner than you actually did. the pressure from everything had been building up for a while, and everybody was waiting for you to blow up.

the only person who didn't seem to notice was alexia. she kept pushing and pushing, despite the warning from everybody else about pressure. alexia thrived under pressure, and you were so much like her that she assumed you did too. she failed to notice the way that your shoulders had begun to sag as you tried to go through the everyday motions of living.

…

"hola nena," sandra greeted as she sat down next to you. it was one of her last practices. you were definitely one of the saddest to see her go. she had been a staple in your life long before you had joined barcelona. the woman had lived on your street for as long as you could remember, having quickly become a family friend.

"hola sandy." your finals hadn't gone the way that you were hoping they would, so you had to do a couple of the optional end of the year assignments to make it up. you had been working on the last one whenever she walked over.

"you know that is important to rest your brain as well as your body," sandra said. she placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently to get you to look at her. you glanced up from your paper, and sandra felt her heart break a little at how exhausted you looked. "what are you working on?"

"it is my physics. and no, you're not allowed to help. after the disaster that was my study session with alexia and patri, none of the team is allowed to help," you told her. sandra laughed a little. she had heard all about that, alexia complaining that the school work these days was far too difficult for anybody to reasonably understand.

"don't worry, i wouldn't even know where to start if i did want to help you," sandra joked. "i just wanted to check on you. you've been working very hard, and i know that it can get tiring."

"i'm fine. it's what i have to do. i keep my grades up, i get to play. that's the deal." sandra frowned at the almost robotic way you repeated the words that your parents, alexia, and the coaches had been drilling into you. "i can't rely on football forever. one day, i'll have to do someting else, right?"

"what would you want to do if you couldn't play football?" sandra asked you. that wasn't a question that anybody had ever asked you. your parents were insistent that you'd have to have a good career after football to take care of your family, and alexia talked to you like football was always going to be all there was. nobody had ever stopped to ask what you wanted to do, so you never thought about it.

"well, i don't really know," you admitted.

"that's perfectly fine, you're young. just don't put too much thought into what everybody else wants for you," sandra reminded you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she got up to leave you alone. you let her words echo around in your head. it was a good thing to remember, even if it would be hard to undo the years of people pleasing you had grown accustomed to.

…

barcelona was full of motherly figures. sometimes, you found it to be a bit overbearing, but most of them knew when to back off. they had all sort of been alternating trying to check on you. usually, you were mature enough to realize that there had to be a reason for them to be so overbearing, but with the added stress of everything, you hadn't.

marta was one of your favorites. the woman had immediately taken you under her wing whenever you came up from the academy. she was one of the players that you looked up to the most. she had played at barcelona since you could remember, truly a club legend. it was surreal sometimes knowing that she was cheering you on.

whenever you had sprinted off after blowing up at marta's girlfriend, caroline, you had been terrified. marta had every reason to be mad at you. hell, you were pretty mad at yourself for getting so mean with someone who truly just wanted to make sure that you were okay. you swore that you saw caroline's eyes begin to tear up as you raced away from everybody and everything as fast as you could.

"(y/n), what is going on with you?" marta was the last person that you expected to come after you. much to your surprise, marta wasn't outwardly angry with you. if anything, you just saw concern in her eyes as she stared down at you.

"i don't really know," you mumbled. it was true, you had no idea why you were feeling the way that you were. it was normal for teenagers to get a bit angsty and angry, but this felt out of control. no matter what you did or who you spent time with, your mood never seemed to improve. "nothing helps, it's like i can't relax."

"can i tell you what i think?" marta asked cautiously. you trusted her, and knew that she wouldn't say anything if you didn't want her to. there wasn't any harm in hearing her out, so you nodded your head for her to continue. "i think that you're exhausted. it's been pretty obvious to most of us for a while. we've all tried to tell you to slow down, but we can't make that decision for you. have you tried talking to your parents about how you feel?"

"my mom says that i should look into summer classes, but i have to test into them. she's worried that i won't make it in. my finals didn't look good, and she says that she wants what's best for me, but i don't know if i believe that anymore," you said. it felt nice to get it off of your chest.

"would it be okay if some of us talked to her? maybe alexia or irene can lead the charge if you think that it would help. none of us want to see you like this anymore. we miss our little chica, the little ball of happiness and energy." marta caressed your cheek, and you leaned into her hand. you were absolutely exhausted, and it was like a weight was lifted off of your chest for having finally spoken about your feelings.

"thank you, marta." her heart broke a little at how defeated you sounded. she hated that they had let things get this bad. "i should go apologize to caro, she looked upset."

"do not worry about that right now. most of the girls are in the gym. i think that mapi left a blanket in the locker room for you. please just take a nap and then we can all have a big talk later, vale?" marta asked hopefully. she breathed out a sigh of relief when you got up and walked to the locker room. around an hour and a half later, she found you fast asleep on the bench in front of caroline's locker. there was a note with your apology written out on it, as well as one to each of the girls that you had already snapped at that week.

"she's a good kid," alexia said as she glanced down at your body. it was blocking her seat in front of her own locker, but alexia was happy to move around you for the time being. she believed that you needed your rest more than she needed to sit.

"she really is," sandra agreed. "i think that i'm going to take her home for a little while. she can sleep at my house while we talk to her parents."

"will they listen?" irene asked. she had heard a lot of things about your parents, whether from sandra or you in passing that made her question whether or not they really had your best interests at heart.

"if they don't, ingrid and i will take her in," mapi promised. for a moment, there were a couple of skeptical looks thrown around, but alexia shut each of them down quickly. alexia could see the seriousness in mapi's eyes well enough to know that the woman meant it. you were like her little sister, and mapi just wanted to make sure that you were properly taken care of. she already felt like she had failed you for letting you get so stressed.

…

you let out a heavy sigh as you flopped back against your bed. it felt weird to think about. this was your bed in your room in your home. your parents' place had been your home once, but it didn't feel nearly as warm and safe as mapi and ingrid's apartment did. this was a place where your best interests were truly at heart, with your input included.

it was definitely sad leaving your parents behind, but they had been all too happy to sign you away. they didn't want to keep you around if you weren't going to listen to them. somehow, they had tried to turn this all around on you for failing them, but your teammates were quick to shut that down. alexia and the others hadn't even walked out before mapi and ingrid were pulling up to take you away.

"that was the last box chica. i was going to suggest that we take a break because ingrid is on her way back with pizza. do you want some time alone or would you like to watch some tv with me and alexia?" mapi asked you. a part of you wanted to sit and sulk about your parents letting you go, but the part of you that wanted to enjoy your new family won out. you shot off of your bed and followed mapi into the living room.

alexia was curled up with a blanket on the bigger couch in the living room. you and mapi seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over to either side of alexia. the two of you played a little game of tug of war that alexia helped you win. you cuddled up against alexia's side, nearly falling asleep before ingrid got back with pizza. it was definitely different than the environment that you were used to, but it was a heartily welcomed changed.

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Ppppft!!! Elliot casually entering in Judd's room at the worst possible moments, yes please!! I like to think that Judd put all those signs in his door mainly because of his dad 🤣 Elliot and Diane embarrassing Judd is everything i need in this life, hopefully in front of his crush lol 😈

This has been stuck in my head literally the whole week— it’s too good not to write seriously 🤭

Tags: fem! Reader, mentions of sex? Like a lot of mentions, also masturbation, also cockblocking lol, but as I keep saying this is big mouth fanfic what do you expect, Nick and Jessi being jealous boggles my brain, it’s too funny, Elliot Birch is an actual menace, he also has no regards for privacy, it’s his house so he can enter whatever room he wants ig, author had way too much fun writing this

I based this on my first big mouth story, read it HERE

Author’s note: I’m cackling. I loved writing this so much omg— why is it funny tormenting the characters so much 🧍🏻‍♀️anyways, I did my best with Diane and Elliot’s dialogue,, but it’s hard lol. I hope you find it as funny to read as I did to write, and also, ig I kinda lied bc the third and fourth reason technically doesn’t have anything to do with people barging into Judd’s room. But he does get embarrassed, and I needed a good title, sue me. No but seriously, I hope you like this haha

Four (4) reasons why Judd has ‘keep out’ signs on his door

Word count; 4,7K

Reason one (1)

The air in Judd’s room was warm, and humid, and seemed to have stilled once the two of you collapsed on the bed, worn out from an intense round of fucking. 

He barely bothered covering himself, instead he threw you a somewhat sweaty shirt he had been wearing beforehand and pulled the covers up enough to just barely cover his hips. You accepted it with shaky hands and a worn out smile, almost purring as you slipped into the garment and burrowed yourself under his covers as well.

Between your legs, now resided a slowly cooling and increasingly sticky mess, still leaking from you as you turned in the bed. However, your boyfriend never made a move to get up and fetch a towel. He did reach out an inviting arm, though, urging you to scoot closer to him. You did so with a hazy look on your face, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling. 

You listened to his heart beat wildly, his blood bump and felt so, so content. You heard him relax as well, a deep, low, grunt of a sigh as he settled in, clearly as ready for a nap as you were. 

With the humidity and the stillness of everything, it was too easy to close your eyes and bask in the feeling of sleepiness. You were right there, on the sweet, blurry edge between sleep and consciousness when a series of rapid knocks broke through the silence.

Judd groaned, clearly on the cusp of sleep himself— voice even raspier than usual. Besides mumbling a few threatening words under his breath, he didn’t move to open the door or even care to call out to whoever was knocking. It would most likely be Nick, anyway, coming to bother you and he would set the world aflame before he let his stinky little brother see his girlfriend half naked. 

None of you even had time to register it, before the door rattled, opened and a much too cheery Dr. Birch stepped through. 

You froze— wide eyes searching Judd as the crease between his eyebrows became deeper and a murderous expression overtook his sleepy face. 

“Dad.” He rasped. “Get the hell out.”  He was quick to tuck the covers around you, especially your still very wet crotch and ass, completely disregarding the fact that he was butt naked himself. You shrieked as he suddenly rolled you in the sheets— grateful nonetheless as you came to face Elliot Birch, the man completely indifferent to the two of you and your nakedness. 

“Oh, my sweet Judd!” Mr. Birch exclaimed, ignoring how you both looked very much like you wanted him to leave. “How magnificent is it, that you feel comfortable sharing your nude self with me and Y/n?” 

He clasped both hands over his heart, dramatically, and Judd somehow turned even paler than he already was. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like; “I am going to fucking murder you.” And darted for the floor where he had thrown his jeans. 

“Oh noo! No need to feel ashamed, Judd, I’ll take my pants off too!—“

“— no!” A choked out yell escaped you too quickly. Your face felt hot, and you didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that you were beat red by now. You did not need to see Judd’s dads bare ass after already already being embarrassed beyond belief. 

Dr. Birch chuckled and smiled warmly at you. “Setting your boundaries, I see. I’m so proud of you Y/n— my son has such a strong willed girlfriend!” 

Your cheeks burned. “Uh, right. Thank you, Dr. Birch,” 

“Call me Elliot!” 

Judd scoffed behind you, finally getting his pantless situation under control. “Fuck off, dad. Now. I mean it.” Even he was a bit too stunned to come up with a proper threat. 

Elliot sighed, smiling. “Oh, I will, I will! I’ll leave you two lovers alone in just a minute! I do have a little favour to ask you first, though, Juddy,” 

“What.” Judd deadpanned, the tips of his ears colouring slightly at the horrific nickname. 

“I have this tag still on the back of my shirt, you see, I would have taken it off before trying the shirt on, but now I appreciate it so much I didn’t want to take it off myself— Ah, it holds such good memories of this morning!” 

This morning in particular, Nick tried to hit on you and Judd threw a milk carton at him. 

Judd sighed, deeply, and looked a bit like a feral bull. “You are such a fucking pussy, dad.” He growled, but still walked towards his dad with intend to help. 

“Thank you! That is such a beautiful organ,” You kinda wanted to snicker, at the absurdity of the whole situation, but kept your mouth shut. Judd worked quickly, ripping out the tag and throwing it at his dad. 

“Why the hell didn’t you ask Nick?” Judd grit out, coming to sit on the edge of his bed by your feet. He put a protective, soothing hand on your leg under the covers. 

Dr. Birch laughed. “Because you’re so strong! And I love you, son,” 

Judd visibly clenched his jaw, you had no doubt that if this continued a vein would pop on his forehead. “I hate you.” He countered.

“And I validate that feeling! You have such a way with words, you should think about being a writer, don’t you think so too, Y/n?”

“Get the fuck out.” Judd snarled before you had to respond— thankfully. You smiled awkwardly at Mr. Birch, as if trying to confirm Judd’s words but in a much politer way. 

He smiled. “Alright, alright! Have fun, you two, and be safe!” He said over his shoulder, as if it wasn’t obvious that the two of you had just very much had your fun, and sauntered towards the door, closing it gently behind him.

Reason two (2)

Unfortunately for Judd, he didn’t have his own bathroom in the house, having to share two between his family.

Around the shower, was carefully placed a plethora of different pastel coloured shampoo and body washes— all of which belonged to Leah and smelled like a candy crush fever dream. Judd sorted through them roughly, pushing most of them over in his search to find the all-in-one and shampoo for dyed hair he usually used. 

As he showered, working the shampoo into his hair and revelling in the warm, steamy water spray, Maury appeared; ‘You’re taking a shower for Y/n, huh?’ The hormone monster drawled. He was bored; checking his nails as he made himself comfortable on the toilet outside the shower. 

Judd grunted. It was true, you would be over in a bit and he didn’t want to smell like the raccoons.  “Why are you here?” He demanded. 

The monster chuckled and held up his hands in defence. ‘It’s not my fault you can’t stop thinking about Y/n.. Ahh, remember last week when she sucked you off in the shower? Why’s she not doing that right now? Let’s call her,’ Suddenly Maury had Judd’s phone, and was waving it around. 

“Fuck you. Let me shower.” 

‘No, let’s fuck Y/n!’ Maury countered enthusiastically. ‘And besides, y’know that’s not how it works,’ He grinned mirthfully, slithering around the glass wall of the shower to point a long, clawed finger at Judd’s cock— sure enough it was rising to attention. ‘You gotta jerk off. C’mon, give me a good show!’ 

Judd could have punched Maury— and he had actually tried that before, just for the monster to disappear and reappear behind him with a smug look. So instead of drop kicking his hormone monster, he promptly ignored him and turned around to face the water spray. 

‘Nuh-uh,’ Maury grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around— he shook the monster off with a deep growl. ‘Think about Y/n’s nice, biiig tits, ah~’ Maury shuddered, but continued. ‘Remember how they looked all wet, uhhh I bet she’d let you blow your load all over them next time,’ Maury was unrelenting, an increasingly deepening blush spread over Judd’s face and ears and he let out a strangled groan. 

“Shit, fine!” He hissed and the monster whooped in victory. 

Judd was quick to tip his head back and grab his dick with a closed fist. He sighed through gritted teeth as he got to work— swiftly and quite roughly pumping himself as Maury cheered him on. He closed his eyes and let his jaw go slack, imagining it was your hand around him and recalling the alluring noises you made whenever he was pleasuring you. 

His release build steadily, hand movements getting more frantic and his breath sped up. The spray of water only seemed to get hotter, and the steam in the room became more dense. He leaned forward— spreading his hand out on the wall in front of him to get a better angle, and keep his balance. Now his head hung low, and he panted open-mouthed as he tightened the grip around his cock and sped up his movements again. He was so close, just a few more pumps and— 

The bathroom door flew open and Judd all but jumped out of his own skin. He had locked the door when he first entered, right? 

‘Nooo..! Elliot, get the hell out!’ Maury yowled— appearing on the other side of the shower and trying to push out the intruder, who unfortunately was Judd’s dad. Elliot could neither see nor hear or feel the monster, so Maury’s punching and shaking left him completely unfazed as he continued further into the room.

Judd’s eyes shot open, slack mouth turning into a frightening scowl as he heard his dad sing to himself. Elliot sauntered about the bathroom— humming a song about lotion and browsing through the cabinets. 

“Don’t mind me, Juddy!” He yelled over the water, as if it was a most normal occurrence to walk in on your 18-year-old son taking a shower. 

Maury slithered back into the shower. ‘Let’s kill him. Now. And then we can tend to your little.. problem after,’ He suggested, glaring at Elliot’s shadow through the shower window. Luckily, it was steamy enough to only show silhouettes, so Judd could at least maintain a bit of dignity. 

Judd grunted and nodded in agreement, turning off the shower. “Get the fuck out,” He rumbled, low and threatening. 

“I can’t find my lotion anywhere! It makes my skin so soft— just the way your mother likes it,” Elliot tutted, completely ignoring Judd’s orders. 

“I’ll fucking skin you alive. Get out.” Judd repeated, this time raspier, raising his voice. The steam from the warm water was slowly dissolving— leaving the glass in the shower clear enough to reveal most of Elliot to Judd and vice versa. 

Elliot chuckled warmly. “You have such a poetic soul, son. It’s such a shame you don’t write more,” 

A cross between a deep growl and sigh escaped Elliot’s oldest son. “What the hell are you talking about.” Judd said, and though it sounded like a question he didn’t actually want to know the answer. 

Dr. Birch turned to his oldest, now fully visible behind the shower glass and said; “Your creative potential! Ohhh! You should write Y/n a love letter, she would love it—“ 

“— Fuck no.” 

Elliot’s eyebrows creased, and his facial expression turned earnest. “I know you’re very good at pleasing Y/n with your body—“

“—Dad, shut up—” Now Judd was really embarrassed, he had both hands covering his privates, but was still very much butt naked in front of his dad, a reality that didn’t fail to make a blush creep over his ears and cheeks. The fact that he was also still rock hard, didn’t help at all. 

“— But!” Elliot continued, pointedly ignoring Judd. “You should do something romantic for her! Something with your heart! You should always show a woman how much you love her, Judd,” He reminded, a gentle smile on his face as he watched his son grow increasingly embarrassed. 

“Okay. I don’t care. Get the fuck out.” Judd deadpanned. He had let his facade slip for just a brief moment— before covering his appalled expression up with a vicious glare. 

“Oh, but I still need my lotion—“

“— I’ll gut you and fill you with your fucking lotion if you don’t get out.” He snarled, strained and deep and his look made it clear it was definitely not up for debate. 

‘Boo! Get the fuck out, Elliot!’ Maury added in the background, throwing a shampoo bottle at the man. 

All he did was chuckle at the threat— shrugging his shoulders. “Alright, Juddy, I respect your boundaries. It’s important to acknowledge such things,” He smiled and relented his search for lotion. He continued humming obnoxiously, however, as he left and softly closed the door behind him. 

Reason three (3)

You gasped, puffy lips parting to make way for the eager sound. Judd had roughly thrown you on the couch, slotting himself between your legs and ferociously attacked your neck as soon as you had walked in the door.

Finally, finally, the two of you were alone— in fact, you had the whole house to yourself. Leah was out, Mr and Mrs Birch had taken Nick out for dinner which left you and Judd the perfect opportunity to fuck on the living room couch. And you barely got a saying (not that you minded) before Judd was putting that plan into action. 

Scrambling to put your hands under his shirt, you clumsily felt him up— lightly scratching at his abs just how you knew he liked it. He growled, heavy and husky and bit hard on your neck in retaliation. 

A strangled whine escaped you and you pulled at his shirt— you needed it off. You felt him grin against your throat, just the slightest twist of his mouth as he scraped his teeth against you. 

“Use your words, baby,” He breathed, cruelly dragging his teeth so slowly against your sensitive neck and grinding into you— so you could properly feel him. 

It was so unfair, he knew you’d have no chance of responding when he started palming at your tits, squeezing one in each hand. 

You tugged harder, pulling Judd closer to you in the process. “Off.” Was the only thing you were able to whine.

He licked a long stripe up your neck— tasting you to the best of his ability before he obeyed you. He sat on his knees between your legs, and you watched him with a flushed face as he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor somewhere. 

Connie, who previously had been banned to the floor where she sat and watched the two of you intensely, stood up— her mouth dropped cartoonishly, hanging on the floor as her tongue lolled out. 

‘Sweet mother of jeebus! Look at those strong, delicious abs..! Lick them— c’mon lick them, hurry! Lick them till he’s all you can taste, sugarplum!’ She cried, and it wasn’t a question, it was a demand. 

You couldn’t help but oblige. You sat up, the way your legs were placed allowing you to straddle him and push him backwards on the couch. To your utter bamboozlement he let you, allowing you control for just a moment as a self-satisfied eyebrow-raise came to his face. 

Half sitting up, he now had the perfect position to ground up into you and you immediately lost what little control you had. Two large hands enclosed around your hips in a lock tight hold—starting a rhythm in which he could press your hips down on his. 

He kissed you then, a tingling feeling erupting in your lower stomach as you tasted the Jack Daniel’s on his tongue. He licked into your mouth with newfound fever, swallowing your desperate yelps and moans— one hand wandering from your hip to your shoulder where he started to push the strap of your tank-top down.

You arched your back, pressing into him, and he took the opportunity to roughly squeeze your ass. In retaliation, you reached a hand down— roughly squeezing his cock through his jeans. 

He groaned, a throaty, baritone sound. “You bitch..!” He cursed and then he was pulling your hair— suddenly pulling you back from his mouth with a harsh tug so he could position you in a way that allowed him to abuse your neck some more. 

He bit you so hard it was sure to leave marks, red and swollen bite marks that would sit on your neck for weeks like an obnoxious neon sign. You sighed and started working his belt—fighting to get it off so you could get your price quicker.

However, just as you were done popping the button on his jeans, the front door clicked and swung open. 

“No, dad! You’re embarrassing me—“

“— You used to love your father’s hugs, Nick, what’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, mom, but I’m a man now. I don’t want hugs.”

“Awww, please, Nicky. Let me give my little man a hug,” 

“No, dad, leave me a— Judd?” Nick walked further into the room, in an attempt to escape being coddled by his dad— but came face to face with you on top of his older brother instead. 

Judd’s grip on your hair immediately loosened, Connie cursed and tried to close the front door before Elliot and Diane could enter— you sat up, mortified and corrected the strap of your top back to your shoulder. 

“Nick.” Judd stated, barely bothering lifting his head to look at his brother. You, however, stared the tween down wide-eyed. “Fuck off, we’re busy.” He grunted. The very same sentence he said whenever Nick would brother the two of you in his room.

You watched as Nick’s fists clenched, his face going through multiple shades of red till it landed on an angry glare directed at his brother. “Judd, you're such a slut!” He yelled, voice crack audible and was that.. tears in his eyes?  

“Are you going to cry, you little prick?” Judd cackled— sitting upright all the way so his chest was pressed to yours. 

“Now, Nicky, what are you slut-shaming your brother for?” Dr. Birch waltzed through the front door along with his wife— as if this moment couldn’t get any worse. You moved to get off Judd, but when he grunted and held your hips down, you noticed he was indeed still incredibly hard and you would need to sit still, so as to not expose his boner to his family. 

You felt hot, too clammy as red colour spread from your chest all the way to your ears— like a kettle heating. 

‘Yeah, fuck this. Sorry, sweetheart, but I cannot deal with this today! You’re on your own!’ Connie patted your head, slowly backing away and into a portal that would take her to god-knows-where and throwing you a ‘peace out’ sign. Wow. Such support. 

“Look at what he’s doing to Y/n!” Nick accused, waving his arms at the two of you. 

You didn’t know it was possible, but Dr. Birch frowned, looking down at his son. “Now, Nicky, it’s never okay to slut-shame someone, especially not when you’re witnessing such a beautiful moment! Judd is just sharing an intimate moment with Y/n, nothing to be ashamed off,” 

Judd stiffened under you, he was tense, you were tense, both of you embarrassed beyond belief. Your ears burned bright red, horrified. 

Your boyfriend let out a warning growl. “Shut the hell up, dad—“ 

“— Oh, Y/n! It’s so good to see you!” Then it was Diane talking, she walked towards the two of you on the couch with a warm smile. You couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes— not when you were literally sitting on Judd’s boner, so instead you buried your head in his shoulder.

“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Birch..” You muttered, feeling Judd’s hands tighten around you. 

Diane tutted. “Oh, Y/n, no need to be embarrassed. I’m glad you both feel comfortable having sex under our roof, and you are more than welcome to,” 

It was an attempt to soothe you, yet it sounded so warped coming from your boyfriend's mom’s mouth. 

Judd heaved a long sigh. “We have.. shit to do. Leave.” He said, sounding equally as mortified as you felt. 

Mrs. Birch chuckled lightly. “We’ll be upstairs, Juddy. You two just enjoy yourself, and Y/n, please stay for dinner!” She hummed— you wanted to cry. 

You kept your head burrowed into Judd, listening as Mr and Mrs. Birch’s footsteps resounded towards the stairs, yet one pair of feet remained. 

“Get the fuck out, shitface.” Judd deadpanned. 

“I’m allowed to be here, it’s my house too!” Nick was defiant, pouting at his brother.

Judd’s jaw clenched— Nick would definitely come to regret this later. “You have a second to leave before I come over there and rip your beady eyes out, you fucking creep.” His voice was low and carnal and it was clear he meant business— that was no empty threat. 

Nick paled slightly, but before he could even begin to find the right response, Diane called from upstairs; “Nicholas Birch! Go to your room and leave your brother alone, now!”

At that, Nick complied immediately, secretly relieved to get a free ticket out of the situation before Judd would beat him to a pulp as he flew up the stairs.

Reason four (4)

You were sprawled out on Judd’s bed, a raccoon curled on your lap and Connie laying on her back by your feet. She was watching Judd intensely as he worked out— occasionally commenting on his grunts or groans as he lifted the heavy weights. 

You didn’t bother entertaining her, gently stroking the raccoon while scrolling on your phone. The animal chatted to you, small hands wavering about as it chittered. You thoroughly enjoyed moments like this, when you and your boyfriend could co-exist quietly and in peace. Judd was lying on the floor somewhere, having moved on from the weights to instead practise his pushups. The two of you would probably go out later, after the rather excruciating last few interactions you had with Judd’s parents, the two of you decided to skip dinner with them for the time being.

Your phone was hooked to Judd’s speaker, as he had graciously allowed you to play music for him while he worked out. The raccoon in your lap seemed to enjoy your taste in music as well- tail swaying softly to the baseline.

Catching your hormone monster from the corner of your eye, you saw how she stiffened and suddenly sat up. Her hairs stood up, ears turning down as she surveyed the room— she turned to say something to you, but right before the sounds escaped her, three shy knocks came to the door. 

Judd, who was now doing crunches, sat up fully to fix you a blank stare. He gestured towards the door with his head and raised eyebrows, you pouted but got up. The raccoon in your lap protested as you softly shooed it off— it scurried off under the bed to hide from whoever came to disturb you. Connie followed closely behind you, slinking after you like a shadow as you approached the door. 

Opening the door, you were already quite ready to fight off Nick or Mr. Birch, but what you didn’t expect, however, was your sister standing there and wringing her hands with a nervous expression.

“Uh, Jessi?” You didn’t even know she was here, actually you hadn’t seen her since yesterday evening when Judd picked you up from your dad’s.

Connie raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Oh sweet child..’  She muttered, studying your sister from over your shoulder.

Jessi took a step back, startled, when instead of her crush she came face to face with you in pyjama shorts and one of Judd’s shirts. You bend over a little, to be more on level with her. “What are you doing here? Do you need a lift home, or something?” 

She gaped at you, clearly losing track of whatever she was going to say. You watched, a bit concerned, as gears turned in her head. Then, you felt something, someone, else at your side. You wrinkled your nose as Judd came up besides you— his sweaty palm enclosing around your waist as he pulled you to him. 

You wanted to comment on it— tell him to shower before he got his sweat all over you, but he beat you to it; “Hey Y/n’s sister Jessi.” He grumbled, granting the tween a downwards glance. 

Jessi looked positively constipated, and also a bit like she was going to puke. You freed yourself from Judd— dropping to your knees and gently holding Jessi’s shoulder. “Jessi-bear, are you sick?” 

Connie followed you closely again, this time appearing behind your sister, clutching her closely and spreading a palm over her forehead to feel her temperature. ‘She’s down with a baaad case of Judd fever!’ The monster exclaimed, slightly shaking Jessi, whose blush had now risen from her neck all the way to her ears— colouring her face completely red. 

You sighed as your sister seemed to boot up again from her temporary lockdown. She quickly stepped back from you, and you realised she was holding something behind her hands. Connie noticed it too; ‘Aw Jessi.. So cute, but sad. Very, very sad. Actually kinda pathetic, you better let her down easy, Y/n, sugar.’ 

“I am not Jessi-bear! And I’m not sick! Just.. Just regular, old, fun, Jessi..” She waved you off, and you stood back up— slightly surprised by her outburst.

You tried, and failed, to hide your grin. Apparently, Judd thought your sister's awkward demeanour was funny as well. “Okay, regular, old, fun Jessi. What do you want?” He said, raising a brow at the flustered tween. 

She swallowed thickly, and you fixed Judd a glance that meant ‘don’t be mean’. He retaliated by shrugging and wrapping his arm around you again. Jessi’s blush somehow grew more vivid— she looked a bit like a cat on edge as she dared a glance up at your boyfriend. 

“I was just, y’know, strolling by–” Connie clasped a large paw over her mouth, shaking her again. ‘–Stop talking, baby! Stop talking!’ She howled, though Jessi didn’t seem to hear or even feel her. 

“This hallway has such interesting architecture, did you notice that?” She finished off, fiddling with whatever she had behind her back and making a point of staring at the ceiling instead of Judd. Your boyfriend in question only grunted, keeping his intense glare on Jessi. 

Sighing, you said; “It doesn’t. It’s a hallway. Look, if you need a lift home I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, but shouldn’t you hang out with your friends or something instead? I’m sure Nick is looking for you,” You hinted, but all you got from Jessi was a vivid glare. 

“Yeah. Actually, you’re right. I was just dropping by, but I’m actually really, really busy, so..” She shifted on her feet, turning to leave and accidentally exposing you to the thing she had been holding. 

Judd’s eyebrows drew closer together, in a full on scowl. “Is that my shirt?”

You snorted. “Oh my god!” You stared at your sister in bewilderment, trying to decide whether it was funny, gross or awkward beyond belief; You settled on a good mix of both.

Immediately, the garment slipped from Jessi’s hands and she paled. “I-I-I found it like this! I just wanted to return it!” She could have puked, breathing speeding up as she fought off the hyperventilation and stared at the two of you with a horrified look that meant you had definitely caught her red-handed. 

“Are you stealing Judd’s shirts? I knew I had a bunch of them, did you seriously take them?” You asked, now mortified. Judd let out a series of low, cackling laughs as you watched your sister tear up. She opened and closed her mouth, fighting to say something but ultimately gave up— running off down the hall as you watched her retreating form with bewilderment. 

You’ve reached the bottom🧍🏻‍♀️thank you for reading this far, haha, I hope you enjoyed it. The last one was heavily inspired by that scene in the new season were Jessie walk in on Judd and his girlfriend(?), I just saw that and needed to write something similar

I’m now on my winter break, and I’ve got a lots of idea for Judd content for y’all this week so look out for that!

With this story, I literally need to add this meme; reblogged to me by @raccoon66

Thank you so much lol, it’s literally the best thing ever 🙏🙏

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Guilty As Sin

Batter Up Chapter 6

!!! This takes place After Chapter 2, when reader and Joel's relationship was still a secret. !!!

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: What if Joel did in fact write MINE on your upper thigh when the two of you sneak away from your friend's wedding? Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, bondage, a singular ass slap, neck tie turning into a gag, Joel's got a dirty mouth,spot the Taylor Swift lyrics in my writing, panties are getting ripped off. Words: 3,030

A/N: Baseball Joel is back. Thank you for being so patient with me during my hiatus. I've had this fic rattling in my brain since I heard "Guilty As Sin" by Taylor... and I may have been in feral mode while writing this. This can be read alone, without knowing most of the story of Batter Up.

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Blake Velasco, the Capitals’ celebrated third baseman is finally marrying his longtime partner, and your friend, Gemma. You tell yourself you flew in for her, but really you’re here to see one of Blake’s groomsmen… Joel. You’ve been dreading today, your first official outing as a couple and nobody knows.

The two lovebirds really went all out for their December wedding. Crystal covered snowflakes hang from the rafters glitter in the flickering candle light, urns of white roses fill every extra space, golden and white tones fill the opulent mansion. 

Soft orchestral music begins, your skin instantly heats at the realization you’ll soon see Joel. Internally fighting and cursing every urge to turn in your seat and wait for the first sight of your boyfriend, you’re finding it hard to keep your cool. The procession begins, heartbeats begin skipping beats once you spot the same curls you like to tug hanging low against his neck. His longer offseason hair is slicked back, wide shoulders hugged perfectly by his form fitting black tuxedo. You can’t look away from his broadness walking down the aisle. 

Joel takes his place at the altar, the whole room dissolves around him. He searches for you, a perfunctory nod sent your parents' way turns into a smug smile once he spots you. His eyes crinkle in the corners, the same creases that show themselves whenever he’s closing his eyes in bliss appearing. He’s so debonair, all dressed up in his tuxedo, you want to wrap the silk black tie around your hand and pull him closer.

You’re sure he can tell how he’s affecting you. Helplessly trying to focus elsewhere, your eyes attempt to roam the room before staring at the chandelier above and bracing yourself for the next half hour of trying not to look at Joel standing tall and striking only three rows away. You look towards him, he’s still staring at you, a whimper chokes out. You brush a pretend piece of lint off your dress trying to cover your audible slip up catching your mom’s attention. She leans over and asks if you’re okay, you give her a weak smile and nod. Joel’s eyes still watch you, an imperceptible wink sent your way. Relief soothes your tenseness once the bridal procession begins. This is going to be awful. 

___

Swaying trees twinkle in the wind, fairy lights cascade down the branches, the shining orbs glow all around you, you wish they could warm you. It’s too damn cold. You just had to choose the tight gold dress only held together in the back by thin straps? You really had to forget your shawl in the reception? Sure, you wanted Joel to untie and unwrap you tonight, but now you wonder if it was all worth it... stuck shrouded in darkness behind the gazebo. Your teeth chitter, hands trying to rub warmth into your limbs while waiting for Joel to finally meet you far away from the picturesque mansion. 

You can just make out the loud music playing mostly drowned out by the raucous shouting of the party attendees. Your phone buzzes in your hand. Sorry, stuck talking, be out ASAP. You thumbs up Joel’s text and roll your eyes. Since when did he like talking? It’s been ten minutes and you’re freezing and frustrated. Joel’s teammates, your parents, and your friends are all in that far away house. Nobody has any clue about your tryst.

He’s been in your proximity all day, the two of you trading as many quick glances you can afford, a rush sent to your heart every time your eyes meet. Looking at him’s like playing with fire, you just can’t help yourself even though you burn yourself each time. He’s ridiculously handsome and he’s been driving you insane all day. 

Your wet core aches and you haven’t even touched him.

Joel Miller in a suit consumes your thoughts all day. Conversations flow around you, contrition and lust warring in your brain. It’s impossible pretending to listen to whatever story or joke people keep droning on about while he stands only a few feet away. Your nerves work overtime thinking everyone can plainly see all the fantasies in your head. Propriety in these situations always came easy to you, but today you’re suffering, longing for your boyfriend.

Looking up at the stars twinkling above you, you sigh, at least it’s a clear night.

A warm weight pushes against your back, Joel’s arms wrap around you, a large hand splaying against your stomach while the other rests across your breast bone. You’re instantly warmed. 

“Sorry baby, got caught up ‘n had to sneak out without anybody seeing,” he inhales your scent. “You look fucking amazing, it’s been so hard to stay away from you.” 

He pushes you harder against him, the shape of his half hard cock rubs against your ass.  

“Been having to adjust myself all fuckin’ night because of you in that dress, feel like I’m being haunted.”

His hands cup the weight of your silk draped breasts, his breath is hot against your neck when he kisses it. 

“We should probably find a safer place, anyone who looks hard enough could probably see us,” you groan.

“I know a place, slipped an usher a couple hundred.”

___

Joel leads you down a path back towards the house staying in the shadows of the outskirts of the yard, he confidently navigates the maze of hedges ahead of you. A dark building stands alone and quiet, perfect for the two of you.

Joel punches in a code on the door lock and opens it. Trepidation enters when you realize exactly what you’re doing. Sneaking into the guest house of the rented mega mansion your friends got married in to fuck your boyfriend that they, and everyone else, have no clue about. You’ve never been religious, but you feel like a sinner. 

“Is this okay to do?” the contrition begins to rear its head.

“It is baby, paid off a couple more members of the staff too. Cost me a couple grand.”

He leers at you like he’s a wolf and you’re the prey, he wants this. 

“Jesus Joel!”

“It’ll be worth it.”

He crowds and pushes you in before kicking the door shut. 

“Lock it,” you breathe. 

You’ve been caged up all night, now he’s here with you, his mouth on your neck. It’s time to crack the locks. You turn, crashing against him, hiking up your dress and wrapping a leg around him to rub your core against the soft fabric of his suit.

Your kisses are rushed and messy, moans floating in between your already labored breaths. 

“Fuck,” Joel pulls away, his eyes blown out with lust. “Turn back around baby, once I saw the straps of your dress, I had an idea.”

You follow his directions, turning quickly, heels wobbling on your shaky knees as he runs his fingers up your exposed spine. 

“This dress is something baby, love these delicate little strings all over your back.” He begins to untie the threads criss-crossing your back. “S’like you’re my own little present.” His fingers are quick and precise, chills shoot up your spine at his touch. “Turn back around baby.” You face him, dress falling to your hips. A mischievous glint in his eyes sparkles as he holds up two thin strips of silk. 

“What’s your plan?” Your heart shatters against your chest when he arches his eyebrows and licks his lips.

“M’gonna tie you up ’n take you right here in this guest house while everyone we know is just across the yard. You good with that?”

Your mouth drops, uttering a pathetic yes, your cunt aching with anticipation. 

“That’s my good girl,” Joel grabs a marker off the counter top. “Now, they told me there’s a bedroom to the left.” 

___

“Well, would you look at that? Gold sheets to match your pretty silk dress,” Joel chuckles. “Of course they have a four poster bed in their guest house, some people are too rich for their own good.” 

A light push lands you amongst the soft sheets. Joel takes in your flushed cheeks, parted lips, and gold dress sitting askew definitely too wrinkled for its own good. 

He hangs his jacket on the chair back, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt. The sheets feel velvety smooth, you can’t keep still. 

Joel grabs your foot, easily turning your body around, the silk of your dress slides across the satin sheets. 

“Stretch your arms like this, baby,” Joel makes a T-pose to demonstrate.

You follow his direction. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

He straddles you, a bit of his weight placed against your stomach, his thick thighs strain in the black pants, your mouth waters at his closeness. He picks up a wrist, tying the string around you and the bed poster before doing the same for your other wrist. He tugs on both, smiling when they barely move. 

“They feel good baby?”

“Perfect. I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Me neither, but I think we’re going to like it.” 

He runs a hand down to your bra, effortlessly snapping the front hooks open. You blink in awe at the size of him taking up so much space on this king sized bed. 

He runs a hand down your face, pausing at your lips, dipping his thumb in to cover it in saliva. His thumb leaves a trail of wet down your chin and neck to your breast, circling your nipple before pinching it. You attempt to buck your hips at the sensation but you’re met with resistance from his weight. Both of Joel’s hands grab your tits, deep brown eyes getting darker when he watches himself push them together. 

“Look how perfect your tits fit in my hands. Perfect fucking size, so fucking smooth and pretty. It’s like they were made for me.”

Joel scoots back, now straddling your legs and pushes your dress up to rest against your stomach. He whistles a low note, taking in your soaked panties. 

“Baby, you’ve made a mess down here, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and nod.

“I’ll clean you up because this is my pussy and I gotta keep it in good shape, don’t I darlin’?”

“Yes,” you coo, another gush releases against the silk of your panties. 

“Because this pussy is mine, right baby?”

“Fuck,” you howl, body begining to quiver under his attention. “Yes Joel, all yours.”

“You’re mine, aren’t you baby? Just because all those people in that house can’t see it, everyone knows, right baby? You’ll always be mine.”

“Oh my god, yes, I’m only yours.” “Perfect.”

Joel reaches into his pocket, pulling a black Sharpie out and uncapping it. He looks up for approval, you frantically nod wanting to find out the mystery. 

The marker tip is placed against your upper thigh, the ink is cool against your searing skin. You lift your head up to watch Joel. 

M-I-N-E is written on your upper thigh. 

Your head slips back down against the pillows overwhelmed by the way Joel licks his lips while staring at his inscription against your skin. He caps the marker, placing it back in his pocket before laying down between your legs, stretching your thighs wide to fit him. 

Nuzzling his head in between your thighs, his mouth rests against your drenched panties. The sight must look so depraved, Joel’s almost fully dressed inhaling your scent with his nose nestled in between the divide of your folds as you writhe underneath him, your hands tied to a stranger’s bed. He grabs the seam of your flimsy silk underwear and tears them off, you’d chastise him if you weren’t so fucking ready to feel his mouth against you right now.

“You’re mine baby, forever,” his fudgy brown eyes gaze into yours when his tongue darts out and licks a long stripe up your aching pussy.  

He groans against your drenched cunt, lapping up all of the slick you’ve spilled out through the day. Your hands tighten against the restraints when he sucks your clit in the perfect way he always does. A thick finger circles your entrance, his tongue slowly teases your clit, both cause you to drown in satisfaction. You love how he looks in between your legs, his strong nose bumping against your skin, dark eyes focused on your face.

Your hips begin grinding against his face when he sticks another finger in, his biceps stretch across the white dress shirt with his movements. In, out, in, out, his two thick fingers fuck you, his lush mouth still adoring your clit with every lick and suck.

The silk ties pull at your wrists, your fingers dig into your palm, the buildup of watching handsome Joel Miller at a wedding made you ache all day, and now he’s here eating your pussy. You’re so overwhelmed by him, his love, his adoration, his fucking perfect mouth. Your orgasm rolls through you, your cunt rides the wave of pleasure against his mouth, grinding into his gorgeous face. 

He doesn’t let up, a third finger is pushed inside, his tongue traverses every dip, fold, and nerve. He pulls his fingers out and rests them against your aching entrance before burying them right back in. You shout his name over and over, chants of Joel screams across the room.

He pulls away.

“Baby, you gotta quiet down,” Joel’s face covered in your juices pulls a raucous moan out of you. “Baaaaaby,” he chastises, hand flying up to pull his tie apart. He balls the tie in his hand before stuffing it into your mouth. “Quiet.” 

You moan around the tie, biting down on it hard, shaking and aching as another climax splinters you. Your vision turns just as black as the tie currently packed in your mouth. Your arms burn as they strain against the ties, your legs locking straight.

“That’s it, baby, I’m fucking drowning in you,” Joel’s voice brings you back down. Your eyes open to him licking his top lip, tasting and savoring you. 

He pulls the tie from your mouth.

“I love you,” you weakly whisper, shattered by him yet again.

“Love you too baby,” Joel places a kiss against your makeshift MINE tattoo before climbing up your body and untying your restraints. 

__

He kisses each wrist as you shake them out. 

“You good baby?” 

“Of course I am,” you smile.

His thumb rubs your cheek, a doting look sits across his features. He still resembles the perfect picture of a formal man, shirt still buttoned, hair still perfectly placed, the only sign of any mischief being his missing suit jacket and sleeves pulled up to his elbows… until you notice his erection bulging his zipper out.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know what.”

“Oh,” Joel clutches his crotch in his large hand. “This, baby? Well, since you’re mine, I’m going to fill you with my cum and make you even more mine. Now, turn over.” 

__

Your head rests against the silk pillow, heart beginning to race hearing the unzip of Joel’s dress pants. Your legs are pulled apart before he covers you in his weight, the cool cotton of his shirt brushes against your overheated skin. 

His cock nudges between your legs, you adjust to allow him full entrance. Joel slowly pushes in, his arms framing your head settling fully above you. His deep exhale hits the back of your neck. 

“Fuuuuuuck baby,” sprawls from him.

“Hmph– oooooh,” a conceited retort is interrupted when Joel buries himself in you. 

“You feel so fucking good, been needing to fuck you since I saw you, sitting all pretty at the ceremony then watching you twirl on that dance floor, you’re so fucking gorgeous, still can’t believe you’re mine.”

Your bodies rock together, his big cock filling you, you’re engulfed by Joel. It’s delightful. 

“Mine,” his hoarse whisper ghosts against your ear before he tugs against it with his teeth. 

The tempo of his thrusts rises, your cunt gladly accepting the volume. 

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re mine, aren’t you? Only mine. Tell me,” he grunts.

“I’m… I-I’m yours, all yours,” squeals pathetically from your mouth, muffled by the pillow. 

Each snap of his hips against your ass sears so heatedly, you fear the bed sheets will be set ablaze. 

He rolls against the exact spot that amplifies your soul, a chorus of bliss strums through you. Symphonic ecstasy ripples overwhelming you, eyes squeezing shut, mouth screaming into the fluffy pillow. Your pussy flutters against his cock cramming your hole, the two of you entwined in a duet you’ll never tire of. 

Your head turns, lungs panting for air, whimpers yelping across the room as he rides your orgasming pussy, composing the melody of his own burgeoning orgasm. 

His hips stutter, the rhythm getting lost at the crescendo of his climax. 

Your name is moaned out, large hands gripping into your shoulders, his broad body collapses against you, briefly smothering you before rolling off.  

A quick smack stamps against your ass.

“Mine,” Joel growls. 

___

The mirror reflects someone who looks freshly fucked, Joel, on the other hand still looks flawless, his suit jacket already applied. He winks at your reflection while he efficiently knots his tie. 

“I get to go back now with no underwear, my hair’s a mess, and your cum is still leaking out of me, thanks. Hope everyone just thinks I’m drunk.”

He laughs a booming laugh, before kissing the top of your hair. “Anytime baby.”

Joel throws a stack of cash from his jacket on to the table before adjusting his tie, the smooth texture so obviously disfigured by your bite marks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you hug him tightly. 

“Tomorrow. I love you.” He sandwiches your chin between his fingers, placing one last kiss against your mouth. “Go have fun, I’ll be watching.”

“Love you too,” you breathily sigh, adjusting your wrinkled dress and heading for the door, with the final obstacle ahead… convincing all of your loved ones inebriated by the open bar that you’ve been there the whole time. 

“Miiiine,” he sing songs through the closing door. 

Guilty as sin.

[deadmarygolds]

Knock

A/n: Yerrrr we’re back at it again with another toxic Sukuna fic! I can’t help it, the guy is stuck in my brain and I’ve gotta ride the wave.

Content Warning: Abuse mentioned, abusive relationships, stalking, home invasion, lots of cursing on the reader’s part, not proofread. Sukuna being himself, non-curse AU

You awake suddenly with a gasp, eyes instinctively darting around your dark room, searching all corners for whatever it was that roused you. Cool satin sheets are trapped in your tight, startled grip, the textile straining so hard against your nails that you swore it would rip. Slowly, to the tune of your heartbeat returning to its normal rhythm, you unwind your fingers and will your body to relax. It must’ve been a dream, one forgotten the moment you opened your eyes.

That had to be it.

Knock Knock

The blunt, loud thunk of flesh against glass grabbed your attention by the hair and dragged it towards the large floor to ceiling windows to the right of you. Windows that were the sole reason you’d chosen this apartment. The bounty of natural light seemingly too good to pass up influenced your signature to glide onto the lease with barely a second thought.

Knock Knock Knock

Whoever it was, or whatever it was didn’t seem too concerned with the noise, like being caught trying to break into a single young woman’s apartment was the very last thing they had to worry about. You squint, eyes studying the thin barrier between you and whatever the fuck that was, but you can barely see. Like the darkness outside somehow became denser, concentrated right in front of your window during the one time you really, really needed to be able to peer out. You frown, annoyed, and crawl out of the cool embrace of your bedding before cautiously padding across the soft white carpet.

You don’t bother turning on any lights, it would only introduce reflections to further hinder your ability to see outside. Instead, you lean against the glass with your hands cupped around your eyes, hoping to spot something mundane to explain the sound away. Maybe that fat, suspiciously intelligent raccoon finally figured out how to get your attention. The idea nudged the corners of your full lips upwards into the tiniest of smirks, a meager laugh beginning to bubble up from your belly-

BAM BAM BAM BAM

“Shit!,” you squeal as you jump back and stumble, landing haphazardly on your ass. The deafening hammering on the window doesn’t stop, though really you’d never even be able to tell the difference between that and the hammering of your heart as you finally got a good look at who the fuck was pounding on it. Pale pink strands shadowing darker ones underneath were plastered to his wet forehead as Sukuna stared back at you with nothing short of pure malice glinting in his brown eyes. Brown eyes that looked more like neon crimson paired with the grin that unfurled on his devastatingly handsome face.

He was soaked, like he’d been lurking outside your home in the torrential downpour all damn night.

“What the fuck?!” Again you’re shocked into action, scuttling across the floor until your back hits the bookshelf behind you. Somewhere far off you can feel the thrum of books being rattled in their shelves and hear the soft thump of something, probably a rogue manga, hitting the floor beside you. You pay it no mind though, not when your orbs are locked in the stare down of your life.

Sukuna, who’d been savoring the very evident fear painting your expressions with a bit too much enthusiasm, lifted his fist and rapped against the glass again, though this time with his scarred knuckles. “Open up,” he mouths and repeats the motion. You don’t move a muscle, instead choosing to sit in avid terror at the impossible situation playing out before you.

Sukuna was supposed to be in prison. He was supposed to be in a prison across the fucking country. He was supposed to never be able to find you, you’d made sure of it. Hell, your half assed parents had even went out of their way to fund your move, promising that they’d help keep you safe. You’ve changed your name, your identity. New socials, new ID, even a new birthday. His ex girlfriend didn’t even exist anymore.

So how the fuck was he staring at you right now?

Your phone. The police. You need to call the fucking cops right fucking now.

Urging your body to move, you scramble to your bed again, your hands searching the sheets frantically for the device. But just as your fingers brush the cool surface of the screen, the sound of straining and then breaking metal reverberates through the air. You bolt, running past him just as Sukuna managed to slide the now broken window up. It’s like your limbs know the grave danger they’re in as you barrel down the short hallway towards the only other locking door in the place; the bathroom. The decision to put off actually decorating your home turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

There was nothing to impede you, but that also meant there’s nothing to impede the man who now casually strolled out into the hallway behind you, either.

You slam the bathroom door hard enough that you’re more than certain every neighbor around you heard it, and twist the lock firmly. You resist the urge to press your body against the wood in an attempt to keep him out, instead choosing to wrench open the bottom drawer of your counter and fish out one of the few things you’d acquired for protection. A hunting knife with jagged, razor sharp edges that fit snugly in your palm. Gripping it tightly in hand, you back into the wall opposite of the door, pushing yourself against the plaster and tile so hard you could meld into it and become one.

Father God you wish you could just melt into that wall.

Sukuna spares you his usual taunting, instead going straight for the kill and battering the door open with just one powerful kick with his combat boot.

And there he was, six foot something and massive. Looking every bit of the God he and his complex thought he was, the pinkette flexed his hands as he stepped over the broken bits of door and lock that now lay scattered to dust and rubble on the cool linoleum. His grin hadn’t wavered even the tiniest bit, not even when he spotted the knife in your hand.

“Long time no see, Poppy.” You physically cringe at the nickname as it rolls off his tongue, the sound assaulting your ears like nails on a chalkboard. Poppy like the flower, the flower that produces opium but way stronger.

“Like heroin,” he’d mused one night after maybe the third or fourth time he’d bloodied his knuckles and your face, “I can’t quit you, and I can’t get enough.”

Your phone clatters forgotten to the floor and you desperately grip the handle with both hands. You’re shaking so hard that you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stab anything effectively, and tears begin to blur your vision and streak your cheeks in their wake. Sukuna’s grin widens into a full on snarl.

“When did you turn into such a weak little bitch?” He steps forward and you press back harder, “Running to the fucking pigs, ratting me out over one little fucking fight?” A little fucking fight that left you with three broken ribs and a punctured lung. One look in the mirror would confirm that your nose hadn’t healed right, either.

“We could’ve worked things out, talked like adults, but you ran away like a fucking pussy, tail tucked between your legs and all.”

He’s on you now, so close that the very tip of your knife is buried snug into the cotton of his still wet band tee, threatening to puncture skin and delve into his stomach. Your hands itch to push it in further, but you’re frozen. You are unhappily reminded of just how big he is as Sukuna bends over you, caging you in with arms corded in taunt muscles thicker than your calves.

“What do you say we try this again?” He whispers softly, lips brushing the skin and tasting the tears on your cheek. His breath smells like mint and tobacco.

He’s sober.

He’s never been sober when he’s angry like this.

“Tell me why you want to leave me, Poppy?”

[thriftingfreak]

Nothing Lasts Forever

Pairing: Luke Castellan x female ares!reader

Summary: Some moments in time where Luke and you can’t seem to figure out how you feel about one another. Part 1??? Maybe more if y’all like it!

Warnings: Yearning. Pretty much a yearning page at this point. Also a lot of background building. My bad yall. This is so long i’m sorry _____________________________________

the very first night

The day you rolled into camp is a day that will go down in infamy.

At least, for Luke it would.

There was no day he would ever remember more clearly.

The sun rose among the clouds beating down upon the plethora of kids and teenagers. He could remember helping some of the younger Demeter and Dionysus kids in the fields with their different crops ranging from strawberries to the beloved camp grapes. Luke wasn’t the biggest fan of grapes himself but he never turned down one from a Dionysus kid.

“Yes, those look perfect Courtney” A grin spread wide across his face as he watched the girl pluck a perfectly ripe strawberry from the plant. If anyone knew how to grow good fruit, it was a Demeter kid.

As he stood up, he brushed his khaki shorts clear of dirt. A flash of a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye. As he turned around, he came eye to eye with a very bewildered face.

“Where am I?” You muttered out. You bent over, placing your hands on your knees. He could tell that you had been running from something terrifying enough to prompt the expression.

“Camp Half-Blood” was all Luke could muster up.

“What?” Oh, this poor girl had no idea how her life was about to change.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking you up and down. Your jean shorts were slashed and your right elbow looked like it had been burned.

You looked up after catching your breath, you shook your head. It was a dumb question, because anyone could see you clearly weren’t doing too great. To this day Luke still felt embarrassment from it.

But even with your confusion and aloofness, you followed him to the infirmary and get the cuts and gashes cleaned up.

Your feet dragged along the path, a couple feet behind him. When Luke turned around, your eyes were pointed toward the ground to the mud stained tennis shoes.

He wanted to explain Camp Half-Blood and every single thing that came with it, the good and the bad. Although now definitely wasn’t the best time. He was afraid you would burst into tears or worse, start hitting him. Luke learned that some of the campers react in that manor, the hard way. Thoughts rattled his brain trying to figure out the best decision.

“Why are you staring at me? Never seen a girl been chased by a big ass bear before?” you snipped at him. At least she wasn’t crying, he thought.

“Uh, actually I have” Luke smiled at you, hoping you would appreciate the sentiment.

You did not. A scowl festered on your face. Maybe from all this anger you’d end up being an Ares kid.

This thought process would prove him to be correct.

Entering the infirmary, he guided you over to a room with several beds. Collapsing on one of them, you shoved your shoes off. You brought your knees to your chest, staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to comprehend the sudden and profound change in your life. Luke knew the feeling all too well.

Luke sat down in the chair across from you. He watched you, almost with care. You seemed to notice though because you immediately sat up.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?” He noticed the sudden quietness in your voice.

Taking a deep breath Luke started the same speech he gave every new camper, with some exceptions. He left out minor details usually directed toward young campers. You clearly weren’t young, at least 16 or 17. Pretty old for a new camper but hey, Luke didn’t discriminate. A part of him didn’t want to scare you away with all of the knew information, leading to little white lies.

“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow morning of camp but I think you should just rest up for now” Luke stood up, walking toward the door. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew the Apollo kids had to do their job.

“Oh by the way” He turned around to face you, “I’m Luke.”

You gave him a curt nod before shutting the door in his face. __________________________________________

a place in this world

It took a couple of months but it finally seemed like you were settling in. Even though your mom had told you about the Gods and Goddesses and how your father was a God, you didn’t have the heart to believe her. That was, until a hairy brown creature was chasing after you.

For the first time in weeks you noticed you didn’t wake up with a heavy heart, missing home.

Someone else noticed it too.

Luke, very slowly, had built up your trust. He really was a good guy, even though he annoyed the piss out of you at first. Countless lonely nights in the Hermes cabin had been made better by him. He would listen to you complain about everything and cry over missing your mom.

That was until an intense game of flag football concluded in being claimed.

After Chris had thrown the ball to some poor Athena kid, you chased after him. Yanking the strap around his waist so hard it sent him flying into the ground. When the ball launched up in the air, you had caught it, sprinting so hard you thought you were going to throw up. In the end, it didn’t end up counting as a point for your team, to your disappointment. Although when a red holographic boar appeared over your head, peace finally seemed to settle in your heart.

The Athena kid did end up in the infirmary after the game but in your defense no one had explained the rules of flag football to you.

On the other hand being claimed meant moving out of the Hermes cabin. In some ways, this was an upside. No more blue dye in your shampoo or whip cream on your face. You wouldn’t feel like you wanted to drown the Stoll brother.

The one who was affected by your claiming the most though was no other than Luke. So many warm nights of your body heat radiating off of his own were no longer. He couldn’t reach out to you in the dark anymore. Now it’s for the better, he thought.

Even with these bubbling feelings, he couldn’t force himself to come to terms with them. They would sit in the back of his throat, burning and itching. But maybe the pain was worth it.

That night he helped you pack your things up to move in with your newfound siblings.

“I wonder why it took so long to get claimed” You wondered out loud, shoving your childhood teddy bear into your backpack.

“The Gods do everything on their own time” Luke’s face fell into a solemn stare. You knew it was a touchy subject for him, specifically his own father. Ares may not have been the best shoulder to lean on but in his own ways he still managed to beat out Hermes by a mile.

Doing your best to shake his mind from it you said, “Did you see Bryce though? I really didn’t mean to yank him so hard” You smiled at Luke and in return you were granted the smallest laugh.

The next morning, you were itching to hang out with your friends (and distance yourself a tad from your brand new siblings). It was a group Luke got along with, but didn’t care much for. Gods knows why. Of course, however, your new found sister Clarisse remained a part of the friend group and Luke never really liked her. She was soft with you and some of your other siblings but rarely anyone else.

The rocky path crumbled under your shoes as you made your way to dinner. You swung your water bottle around your hands before spotting a warm and familiar face.

“Hey Poppy” a smile broached your face. You linked arms with the daughter of Athena. Even though you loved your friendship with Luke, Poppy was your number one. She had only been here for a month before your arrival, causing a very tight knitted bond between the two of you.

“How was the first night in the Ares cabin?” Sharing a look, you both knew the answer. You shrugged. There wasn’t much to share. Your brothers and sisters didn’t seem to hold their rage as well as you thought they might. Arguments ended in screaming matches. Or a dagger being thrown.

“Listen, I’m hot-headed but they really take it to the next level” You both giggled.

Right before you stepped up to the pavilion, Poppy unhooked your arms, turning to face you. “Are you sitting with us today or,” she paused and in air quotes she said “Lukie Pookie?”

Ah yes, the nickname everyone around camp designated upon him. You knew Poppy meant no harm by it but even just by the mention of him, it felt like a pillow smashed your stomach.

Brushing it off you quickly looked around for him, “I was planning on sitting with you guys and I don’t even think he’s here yet.”

Poppy raised an eyebrow and pointed to the curly haired boy across the pavilion. Shrugging once more, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the opposite side of the benches.

Your friends, a cluster of kids from different cabin, were gathered in their usual spot. Before you could even sit down, someone called out your name. Whipping around, it seemed as if the curly haired boy teleported.

“Speak of the devil” Poppy muttered. You lightly smacked her shoulder.

“Hey” A soft smile graced Luke’s lips, “Mind if I sit?”

Interesting.

His eyes lingered in yours for a moment before you shook yourself out of it.

“Of course!” You patted the spot next to you. You mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to the group, just incase.

A flash of hesitation crossed his eyes but he plopped down anyway.

“Mhm! I’ve been meaning to ask you Luke” your friend Ben started “I was wondering if you could help me with my swordsmanship?”

Luke nodded quickly before turning to face you. It was the signal that he wasn’t interested in the conversation. Although you knew Ben would pry about it later as Ben was also a child of Hermes.

But he didn’t see things in the way you did. Instead Luke focused on how your hair fell in front of your eyes. It took everything he had in him to not move it. Others around him could talk and talk and talk but he was only ever focused on you. Over and over again he chose you. But what were best friends for, right? __________________________________________

snow on the beach

The sound of footsteps against a shallow pier never particularly bothered Luke. That was if they weren’t disturbing his peace.

The humming of the trees blowing in the wind, soothed his mind over. His eyes followed the way the fish swam with air bubbles peeking over the surface.

Watching the water helped slow everything down. His particularly dense relationship with his father was starting to wear down on him. Luke knew how even the scar on his face didn’t do his hatred justice.

Too clouded by his thoughts, he didn’t notice a familiar giggle breezing behind him.

You placed your fingers over Luke’s eyes and he immediately reached up to touch your hands.

He turned around and peered up, meeting your gaze. Luke’s breathe slowed when he met your eyes. There was a mutual sense of warmth between the two of you. Shared between little moments of laughter and light. And just by looking up at you, he knew he was in a little too deep.

Luke could, of course, fess up. But even the thought of that made him want to hurl his cookies. It’s not like he wanted these feelings and trust, he’s tried to get rid of them. They were more painful than awkward. The flutter in his stomach when you stood just a little to close to him. The way he caught his breath anytime you looked up at him and smiled. Or the shakiness in his throat and on his tongue whenever you quipped a snarky comment.

He quickly stood up reveling how he towered over you so easily.

His eyes glanced down to your hands which had been pulling something out of your jean pocket. A small string bracelet was cupped between your hands.

He snatched it from you, looking it over. It was covered in red and blue zig zags. His favorite colors.

“Hey” you whined, “I worked hard on that.”

A grin broke out on his face, “Is it for me?”

You frowned, “Well it was supposed to be but since you don’t seem to have much patience, I’ll be taking it right back!”

Before you could seize the gift back, Luke’s arm shot up in the air, holding the bracelet overhead. It was a trick he pulled on you plenty of times. Of course it did nothing but annoy you yet that was the fun of it.

Many could not dupe a child of Hermes. Even so, if there is one thing you inherited from your father it was the fight response in oppose to flight.

Your hands wrapped around the front of Luke’s orange t shirt, bunching it into a fist. Swiftly you yanked him back just enough before you efficiently shoved him backwards.

In the blink of an eye, he performed a large flop into the lake. Although the water that had skyrocketed upwards, dunked you clean with water. Worth it.

Now soaking wet, his mane of dark curly hair, bobbed up and down in the water.

“Not cool” He sputtered out. He pulled his upper body on the dock, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You sighed, knowing what was about to happen. In order to escape future prank endeavors, you had to let him do it.

Before you knew it, you were handing over your right to dry clothes.

Head hitting the water first, you tumbled off the deck. Your entire body, including the dry clothes, plunged into the inhospitable water. How on earth could fish swim in water this cold?

As soon as you breached the water, Luke shoved your head down. Well played.

“Was that necessary?” you groaned, water stuck in your ears and nose. Luckily it was pretty shallow otherwise you would have been way more upset.

“I have bad news” Luke paused, running a hand through his hair, “I think I lost your bracelet” He hesitantly waited for the backlash he was about to receive.

As soon as your mouth started to curl into a frown he knew it was over.

You dove headfirst into Luke. He tumbled back and you pushed him so far under he hit the sand. Although it wasn’t that deep, he managed to grab onto you, pulling you underwater with him.

Your laugh threw bubbles all around. His brown eyes shot open. For a minute he seemed like he was searching yours for something.

In just a couple of moments, it felt like the world stopped moving. You could feel the air in your lungs start to sting. Maybe it was time to resurface.

You mentally clocked all of the seconds you could spend underwater without passing out.

But when Luke smiled, all of your thoughts went muddy. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up.

You gasped for air, feeling the sharpness. It quickened when you realized Luke’s shirt cling to his body.

Look away look away look away look away.

A hint of rose rushed to your cheeks. You cursed yourself for thinking anything different.

After you two had burned every ounce of energy you had, you found yourself laying on the deck, eyes closed.

You could hear Luke breathe as his chest fell up and down.

The sun started to set in the distance, and the buzz of grasshoppers with Luke laying next to you is all you needed.

It’s all you ever wanted.

Almost as if he read your mind, Luke mumbled “I could lay here for hours.”

You hummed in response, simply glad he appreciated the sentiment as much as you did.

Something tickled your cheek with its moisture. You opened your eyes to find small snowflakes falling from the clouds. Snow, specifically snow at Camp Half Blood was rare.

It was weird, but it was fucking beautiful.

It crossed your mind that maybe it was Zeus’s doing, a little reward. You were reminded that even though the Gods had failed you time after time, there were small moments where none of it seemed to matter.

Like laying next to the boy who pulled at your heart strings when snow fell.

You glanced at Luke and caught a glimpse of his smile. The way his lips tugged at each other, you knew he felt the exact same way. It was provoking the way you both knew the ins and outs of one another.

In the back of your mind, you knew the snow wouldn’t last long as it was the start of summer. But oh how you enjoyed it so.

As some would say, nothing lasts forever.

———————————————————————

Authors note: I definitely meant to put this out sooner however I have been booked and busy! Now that it’s summer, I should definitely have more time to write because I love writing this stuff. Lemme know if you guys want more pieces in time of Luke and reader! Also if you have any requests or recommendations send them in!!!!

-Bee

[jacksprostate]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The five days Tyler's stolen my voice from me, I spend watching. The commons, group therapy. I visit my cave with my eyes open. Mills should get used to the cold. I've heard if it drops below 50 while your respiration is this depressed, you go to sleep and never wake up.

Valley of the Dogs.

An orderly with fresh bruises peppering his temple lets me take my walk in the same time Mills is carted around. This is how I must've looked for months. Glazed. Drooling. At this point they probably have to use elephant tranquilizers on me, the tolerance I've built.

God, his petty ass, we meet up for one on one and he says he has to give me some bad news.

No, it's not about Mills.

Tyler, whatever.

He is giving me the bad news, of the passing of one Marla Singer. Everyone seems to think this is bad news. Found dead in her apartment because she didn't pick up any Meals on Wheels for her neighbors for three weeks, and they worried about those little old ladies, up there all starving alone since their angel in black stopped showing up.

Her corpse was found, instead. I imagine it all waxy, tits rotted off just like she said, at some point you're so sick even the bacteria in your gut won't bother decomposing you. I imagine Marla's skin pulling back, fleeing, away from her eyes, her teeth, like a mummy. Dried out as all her collagen rots.

Paper clutched in her hand. A will, sort of hasty and half-assed.

Marla's many worldly possessions all fit on a hotel notepad.

Many other worthless things go to a small number of worthless people Marla has mentioned leaving behind in her life, and god says, Marla Singer has left me something.

That's the entire reason I get to know all of this.

If not, I would've never known.

The world could blow up, and you'd never know in here unless it was in someone's will to tell you.

Marla Singer left me her dildo.

Oh, Marla.

Addressed me in the will half the time as Tyler.

I wonder, did the cancer spread from her tits to her brain, like the cancer I didn't have. It's everywhere now. God says they're working out treatment. I wonder if it matters.

Without Tyler between us, I don't really know what connected me and Marla.

What kept her calling.

I liked her. Another psycho boyfriend in her stories. There will never be another, unless she's gone to Heaven, the real one, and they've got some sort of exchange program going on for her to have fun with.

I think Marla might deserve that. She deserved better than this.

I wonder if it was pills. There was no Tyler to save her, this time. No one to listen to her death rattle. I don't have the voice to ask.

I won't be getting her dildo, because you don't get possessions in a psych ward. It'll get dumped in some other landfill to persist for time immemorial with all the other plastic iconography of our stupid, stupid lives.

Released back out to pasture, I watch Mills. His wife was murdered. Murdered, you see, it's an action, and it's solvable. Mills solved it.

You can't solve the slow death. Not really.

I think about how empty Mills is.

Am I empty?

An unidentifiable amount of time ago, Marla called me again, and she told me all about what happens at the new support groups she goes to, since I ruined the old ones for her. They were willing to rally behind her for the whole blowing my brains out show, and she only would've had to wait them out for six months or so, but she decided to just find new ones. A new church, with new temptations like Living With Angels, a group for those caring for severe dementia patients, and Recovery Road: a program for those trying to rebuild their lives after a loved one blew them up. She said, when I got out, we could both go to that one, and I could talk about Tyler, and she could talk about me, and we could have fun getting kicked out together.

Marla was always talking about that. When I got out.

I wasn't ever hearing any of it.

Mills, they've let up on him, finally, you can see his eyeballs aren't floating with all they've juiced him up on. He's watching me, back.

I wonder if he knows about Marla.

Would Tyler care?

Tyler had said, don't call this love.

Does it need to be?

When I get my voice back, I bury my thoughts on the subject and Marla and everything in a relentless campaign to needle Mills until he looks like a voodoo doll in a shitty tourist trap.

[n30n-le0n]

“Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay.”

"Leo, you gotta stop--"

"Stop saying--agh--"

Leo hunkered in on himself as the bolt of pain went through his shell at the sudden movement, gritting his teeth around a pained hiss as his entire body seized up. Why did it hurt so much, why did it feel like every single nerve in his body was on fire, how badly was his shell even cracked? He'd only woken up a few days ago--and he was still reeling from the knowledge that he'd apparently been asleep for months, that he'd missed out on a huge chunk of his life--but surely his injuries couldn't be that bad. Donnie was carefully dancing around the subject nearly every time he asked, his eyes flitting around like a nervous hummingbird to land anywhere but on his twin's gaze in turn, but....they couldn't be that bad. Right? He couldn't have--

He couldn't have.....fucked himself up irreparably when he had been trying to fix everything. Right?

"Leo, just stop movin' around, alright? Yer gonna make it worse an' then Donnie's gonna get on my ass-"

"Ooooh. Raph said a no-no word." He tried for a lop-sided smile, though he was almost certain it came across as more of a pained grimace than anything.

"Oh, shut it, will ya," Raph snapped half-heartedly, reaching over to gently push at Leo, and even though it was a friendly gesture, he knew it was, Leo still froze, his breath rattling in his throat as his brain conjured up the images--

Raph pushing him away before the flesh over his eye bubbled, before the pink growth spread across his shell and arm, and then he looked over at them and his eyes were a sickly yellow and pink instead of the warm brown that Leo was used to--

Raph coming after him like a bat out of hell, and it was all he could do to keep doing defensive moves just to keep him away, his katanas vibrating like they were going to shatter under the force with every blow, realizing with a sickening feeling that his older brother had been holding back every single time they sparred--

Being lifted by that tentacle, looking into Raph's eyes and seeing only blind, murderous hatred where there had once been love and care and understanding, and those hands that had only ever been used to hold him close, to shelter him from the world, to soothe his hurts, those hands were now rearing back to stab and maim and kill, and all that he could think of was that he deserved this, he deserved whatever Raph was about to do to him, he should have just told Raph that he didn't mean to annoy him so much before it was too late, and now Raph was going to kill him--

And he flinched away, arms instinctively going up to protect himself--

And then Raph looked at him like a kicked puppy, expression turning into something heartbreakingly vulnerable, and Leo realized what he'd done with a gut-wrenching feeling of guilt.

Raph would never, ever willingly hurt any of them. Leo knew that, he knew that, he knew that the only reason Raph had even been taken and Krangified in the first place was because he had been trying to keep them all safe, but the knowledge had made his heart leap into his throat and made him just react without thinking anyway, and now Raph was going to think it was his fault, and things would just be even more fucked up than they already were--

He started babbling before he was even aware he was doing it, voice choked. "Raph--Raph, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I know you wouldn't hurt me, it's not your fault, I just reacted, I'm sorry, I know it wasn't you, I know, I know you'd never hurt me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't be mad please don't hate me--"

An arm gently reached out to touch his shoulder, feather-light, like its owner was worried about how it would be perceived, and that just made him sob even harder even as Raph spoke up softly. "Leo. Hey, lookit me. Why d'you think I hate you?"

"B-because I messed up!" he wailed, the tears not being able to stop now. "I w-was a little shit and I didn't--you got hurt because of me--a-and I didn't tell you--and now you think it's your fault--and I almost--and--and I didn't act like a hero, I didn't act like a leader, you should be mad at me, I messed everything up, that's all I ever do, I should've just told you I didn't wanna be the leader and I just made you mad at me and I'm sorry--"

"Oh, Lee. Raph's not mad. I was never mad, okay? We both should've been better, I--I'm just sorry I made you feel like you couldn't.....couldn't talk t' me. I'm sorry I just assumed stuff 'stead of talking it out, an' I'm sorry that.....if I hadn't gotten taken you'd be fine, I'd still do it all again but I should've--I should've been better, I--"

"No, n-no, it's not your fault, I'm the one who--AAGH--" Moving towards Raph made another bolt of pain go up his spine, made him curl into himself again, and before he knew what was happening he was writhing and tears were leaking from his eyes and then Raph was scooping him gently into an embrace, surrounding him with that old familiar warmth.

"Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You're okay. Raph's got ya."

Leo let out another silent wail then, burying his snout into Raph's arms even as the comforting rumble started sounding from deep within his brother's chest. "R-raphie.....it h-hurts, Raphie--"

"I know. I know it does, I know. I'm so, so sorry, Lee. For everythin'. If I coulda kept this from happenin'--I didn' want any of you to get hurt. I didn' want this to get so bad."

"....h-how bad is it. Donnie w-won't tell me--"

"We kinda had to.....staple your shell back together, a couple places. It's.....it'll heal, it just. 'S gonna take a while." Even with his snout pressed into Raph's arm, Leo could somehow feel the guilt and shame rolling off of his oldest brother as a snout was gently laid onto his head. "Don said that yer.....kinda lucky t' not be paralyzed right now, t' be honest."

Leo's breath rattled in his chest at that, his heart stuttering in its rhythm for a few moments before he was able to get it back under control again. To think that he'd been that close to permanently fucking himself up, all in the name of trying to fix things, of trying to make up for this colossal fuck-up that he'd found himself at the center of....that was a fact that was surely going to haunt him for the rest of the days, and judging by the way his entire frame was vibrating as he huddled into Raph's touch, it was already taking a toll on his mental state. Even though his tongue felt like molasses in that moment, he forced himself to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat and speak anyway, wanting so desperately to hear Raph's reassurance in that moment. "B-but it'll g-get better. Right? We can fix it?"

A pause. And then Raph nuzzled the top of his head gently, exhaling softly. "Yeah. We'll fix it. No matter what, okay? I've got ya."

Leo couldn't quite bring himself to believe that. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe that his brothers weren't furious with him for screwing up so badly, or that he hadn't irreparably damaged his relationship with Raph somehow, or even that he'd ever get out of this fucking hospital bed and get back to some semblance of a normal life. He'd suddenly been burdened with the knowledge that the mortality of his entire family hung by nothing but a gossamer thread even at the best of times, that even the tiniest decision could spell doom for them all, and he didn't quite know how to handle finding himself hanging over that new and terrifying precipice.

But at least Raph's hugs still felt the same. At least all of that seemed a little further away, now that his big brother was holding him close again.

And he would just have to be content with that much.

[galaxyedging]

HAPPY NEW YEAR, Liv!!!!!

I just wanted to stop by and bring you some cheer and a new year of smut!! Lol. Enjoy!

I was just thinking that this gave me dirty thoughts/idea of being on your knees and to conceal you, he wraps the fur coat over you. I was getting Dieter vibes here...but Rockstar Joel would also be good too.

Happy New Year Heather! I wholly approve of these smutty thoughts. You are so right.

I knew this would rattle something loose from my brain. I wasn't expecting this to come out.

Rockstar!Joel x f!reader.

Warnings: Smut. Angst. My attempt at song writing. I'm sorry.

Monkey's Paw

Becoming successful in later life has its perks. Having experience of the world made navigating fame a little easier. The years of hard work and yearning made it easier to keep your eyes on the prize and get what you want. It helped to steer clear of temptations and pitfalls that more naive people would fall for. On the flipside being so focused on one goal can allow life to slip you by. 

Watching your nimble fingers ghost over his guitar strings, Joel thought about everything he'd let fall by the wayside in his pursuit for success. Joel's fingers move on memory as if they are playing a well practised song as they dance up your bare arm. 

“Joel! We can't. Not here.” There's zero conviction in your scolding with Joel's warm hands smoothing over your stomach to pull you close. 

The soft, plush fur of his coat pushing into you provides a stark contrast to the hardness of his cock pressing the fly on his well fitted jeans into your ass. 

His lips are dry from being under the harsh spotlights as they skim the skin of your neck before he nibbles on your earlobe. The tug of his teeth sends a shiver of lust to your core. The door is firmly locked behind you. Joel has too many rabid fans to leave it open. Still you'd feel too exposed to do anything here. Joel had been watching your face in the mirror in front of you. He knows you so well he can read your expression with ease.

As his hands move to the fly of your skin tight jeans he drawls against your jaw. “Don't worry, Darlin’. I'll keep you hidden.”

While one hand slips into your flooded panties, the other wraps his coat around the two of you. Keeping your sinful activities, quite literally, under wraps. Calloused fingers trace tight circles on your swollen bud until you come for him. 

His hand holding his coat moves to keep your moans between the two of you. The sight in the mirror makes Joel's cock twitch. You with your head thrown back on his shoulder, his hand covering your mouth and the other down the front of your jeans cupping your still pulsing cunt.

The weakness in your knees works in your favour as you push Joel back to fall to them. Unusually Joel loves to watch those pretty eyes, lust blown and half lidded looking up at him as you take his cock in your mouth. Tonight guilt tugs at him so he tugs his coat around the two of you. Keeping the moment for just the two of you. The heavy fur heating his skin is nothing compared to the heat of your mouth taking his length. You lick and suck away happily humming at every groan you pull from him. Through the haze his impending orgams brings to his mind Joel thinks about how lucky he is to have you as his manager. He wouldn't be where he is now without you. He thinks he's even luckier to feel what it's like to be completely in love with someone. With that thought on his mind he bites his full lip to keep in your name and spills his load down your throat. 

Taking a moment to bask in the afterglow, you don't hurry as you pull each other's clothes back into place while you exchange kisses. Even a knock on the door doesn't hurry you. After the third louder knock, Joel gives you one final kiss before opening it.

“Joel! What, are you getting your dick wet….Mrs Miller! Sorry I didn't mean to imply….I thought Joel was otherwise occupied.” Joel's new assistant practically shakes in his thick soled boots as he sees you there.

“Thank you, Carl. We were just discussing tonight’s performance.” Carl visibly relaxes a little at your calm voice.

“I think Joel was amazing.” The younger man offers, sounding just a little starstruck. “Oh, your husband's here to pick you up.”

“Thank you, Carl. I'll see you tomorrow Joel.” You give Joel a tight smile.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow. Say ‘hey’ to Tommy for me. Tell him to drive you home safely.” Joel casually responds.

Once you and Carl are out of sight Joel shuts his dressing room door. Flopping down on his sofa he picks up his notepad and pen. 

Regret weighs heavy inside me.

Your gentle touch is heavier still.

It weighs down and brands me.

I'll never get my fill.

How did the bright lights blind me so?

How did I not see what was in front of me?

The spotlight dimmed the glow of your halo.

Their lure, so bright that I could not see.

I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

My wish was granted but I wanted more. 

You gave me almost everything. 

Oh, I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

A dream fulfilled with a twisted core.

You, to me, are everything.

I think about what we gave up, for me to chase my hollow gilded prize.

They'd be grown now.

Who's smile would they have?

Would they have your beautiful eyes?

The only thing that keeps me sane is that I know he treats you right, and now our stolen touches in the night.

I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

My wish was granted but I wanted more. 

You gave me almost everything. 

Oh, I made a wish on a monkey's paw.

A dream fulfilled with a twisted core.

I already had everything,

Without that crooked monkey's paw.

[starsuncounted]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for tagging me @bywayofmemory!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 82.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 128,198.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently, LOTR, Silmarillion, Narnia, and Timeless. I'd like to get back to writing Turn fics, though. I have a couple ideas for oneshots that have been rattling around in my brain.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

winter-touched, frost-bitten (Spinning Silver, T, Miryem/the Staryk Lord, 1.1k): A missing scene in which Miryem strikes a new bargain with the Staryk Lord.

As the Hare Flees Before the Wolf (Silmarillion, T, Eöl & Celegorm, 1.8k): Curufin is not the only son of Fëanor Eöl meets upon the plains of Himlad. Or, Eöl meets Celegorm while pursuing Aredhel and Maeglin, and things go very badly for him.

Here at Journey's End (LOTR, G, Frodo & Legolas, 1.6k): They stay for those they love.

West, West Away (LOTR, G, Sam & Thranduil, 3.6k): Sam meets an unlikely kindred spirit on the journey West.

and I will love with urgency, but not with haste (Silmarillion, T, Andreth/Aegnor, 3.1k): A summer evening spent in a glade near the shores of the Aeluin.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yep! It may take me a while, but I always do. The only exceptions are for cryptic comments that I don't understand and have no idea what to reply with.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Lol. Lmao, even. At least half of my fics are nothing but angst. So...*spins wheel* Let's go with darkness lies on the foaming waves between us (LOTR, G, Arwen & Celebrían & Elwing, 1k), in which Arwen shares the news of her choice with her mother.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I do actually have a couple fics that would qualify for this (shocking, I know), but I have a special place in my heart for And There Make a Garden (LOTR, G, Éowyn, <1k). Éowyn finally being happy and content is everything to me.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not since I returned to fandom in 2020 and started posting on AO3 (unless some of those aforementioned cryptic comments are badly worded hate). But I did get the occasional hateful comment back when I posted on FFN.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Occasionally and it's very vanilla.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Never written one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

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

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I must be loyal to my thirteen-year-old self and say Faramir/Éowyn, my forever OTP.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I really would like to finish And Every Winter Turn to Spring (Turn, Anna/Hewlett), but I don't think I can rekindle the same enthusiasm I had for it during the height of my Turn fixation in 2020/2021. That, and I'm sure that if I were to pick it up again, I'd want to tear it apart and fix it up because it was one of the first fics I started writing after a years-long break from fic writing, and I'm certain I'd be embarrassed by parts of it now. And doing heavy editing like that feels overwhelming right now.

16. What are your writing strengths? Usually characterization and description, but I've been having trouble with my descriptions lately, and in a very strange twist, dialogue has—for the first time ever—been easier for me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plots. You will be getting no 100k+ longfics from me. Sorry. Oneshots or bust.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I only use other languages when writing Tolkien fic and do so sparingly and always with translations in the author notes. All phrases are yoinked from RealElvish.net because I can't be assed to put Elvish sentences together myself. Sorry JRRT.

19. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR. A couple of ancient fics that have never and will never see the light of day.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? It changes by the day, but I am very fond of On These Hither Shores (LOTR, G, Frodo & Boromir, 3.2k). It took a while to come together, but I'm so happy with how it turned out and that I finally achieved my goal of writing Frodo and Boromir getting to know each other before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Tagging @tortoisesshells @boltlightning @aloveforjaneausten @dreamingthroughthenoise if you'd like to do this!

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 15: Braven, Second Time

I am really tired, so tired I legit fell asleep on my couch for a short period of time, but nevertheless I had the desire to write some more of the loftverse before bed. I don't even know. Like, yes, if I was going to write it probably should have been on Troped but... I don't have the brain for that. I just don't. I also haven't done anything else in a while and I think I need some variety.

This does not take place IN the loft but it's part of the same universe.

Braven, ~900 words, written in about 30-35 minutes, warnings for just a little bit of explicit content

Previous installments on the tag "loftverse"

*

The second time they sleep together, Raven tells him, "You're a romantic, aren't you?" out of nowhere into a slow-widening gray well of silence, and he almost has to laugh. She's sitting on top of him, and he'd been staring up at her tits, and the shape of her collar bone and the flow of her hair over her shoulders and her silhouette in the dreary winter gloom. But mostly her tits.

"What?" she asks, biting back a smile that's only an answer to his smile, pushing a confused half-bubble of laughter down. Slowly it softens. She touches his nose, the tip of her finger lingering there, then sliding down to bump against his lips. "I've figured that out about you," she says.

The first time was a one-off, the sort of thing good friends just don't discuss, but it opened the door to something that might become habit. He learned what she looked like naked because she brought him to her bedroom once and took her shirt off without warning--impatient as always, skipping over what she did not know how to do by using short cuts and fast tracks--knew the part of his brain that would say bad idea bad idea would be drowned out and shunted aside. And she was right. That was back in the fall after her boyfriend got caught cheating. Seems a lifetime ago now but she's not yet told him if she's over it, if she ever will be.

This one is on him. It's different in ways he can start to name, can't quite pin down. Maybe just that he didn't initiate by immediately stripping.

She'd come over early with this idea they'd go out to breakfast but the temperature had fallen overnight, the sky clouding up and dropping and that heavy, expectant hush in the air, like a storm gathering itself, so they'd stayed inside and eaten the rest of his cereal, then played video games on his couch. The whistle of the wind and the rattle of his windows in the blow and gust of it sounded of winter. He yawned, for real, stretched up his arm and let it rest around her shoulders.

She looked at him like, am I dumb? Do you think I don't notice it?

He gave her a smile that other women would find charming.

But she slid in against his side as she beat his ass six out of ten, threw the controller on the coffee table after and then just turned her face so her nose was crushed in against his t-shirt. He squeezed her arm, gathered her up close and listened to her inhale, and on the rattling long exhale, he slid his hand beneath her shirt.

None of it meant anything except that he was horny and cold and he knew if Raven minded, she'd just shove him away. Tell him to get over himself and shut up.

Now she's talking about romance and he's thinking about her tits, and wondering if she always takes her hair down to fuck.

The question (you're a romantic, aren't you?) is idle and content and hazy with sex, the bedroom small and square and the hour uncertain. His bed, a queen that he doesn't really need, came with the place and barely fits in the room. Around it is a thin border of floor, around and beneath it wall to wall carpet in an ugly gray-green color that always looks dirty, even when it's not. He's been planning to move out of the place for over a year now but hasn't found anything better, and because it was only supposed to be temporary, he never really decorated much: just a single framed painting on the bare white walls, a gift, which he's hung up over the dresser in the corner of the room.

He has two windows, though. That's the best feature of the place: the natural light. Right now they have the overhead light on and the floor lamp by the bed too, because the late afternoon light is the gray-white tone of a storm that just won't break, hazed out and cold. Occasional thin wisps of snow slant by, sometimes. Nothing that will stick; nothing that will stay.

Bellamy can see the snow, and the wintry light just on the verge of tipping into twilight, through the window just behind Raven, the window she's half-framed in. His palms are sliding up and down her legs, steady and warm, and his feet are still tangled up in the sheets of his unmade bed. He's thinking about Raven awash in his sheets and how she'd look if he flipped her right over and landed her on his pillows, and how he'll probably do just that, when he actually wants to come.

For now she's barely moving, only riding him slowly. As she watches him, the smile fades from her face, and she tilts her head and traces the curve of his cheekbone, wafts her fingertips across the freckles over his nose.

"Romantic?" he asks. He means himself, what she'd said, but for a moment she frowns down at him, confused.

Then: "You want a nice girl who will take you home to her parents," she explains, slow and quiet.

He squeezes her leg, feels the strong muscles there, the softness of her skin.

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugs. He wonders if this is the last time, if he should be taking in every detail now, before he tips over an edge, before the storm breaks.

"It's just something," Raven says, "I see in you."

[writtengalaxies]

Hey! Can i request a sick fic with engineer mark ? I know you already wrote one but idk i just love sick fics skksks

I'm just saying, my chronically ill ass loves some good comfort, so I feel that, anon!

So...why not pick up from that last sick fic?

"Captain, I know you joked about getting sick more often so I can take care of you, but..."

"Shush." You bat weakly at your head engineer. "It's just a cold this time."

"It was just a cold last time!" 

"I don't have a fever this time, I'm fine--" Your words were immediately broken up by a cough that rattled something loose and made you make a face in disgust at the feeling.

Mark sighed, fussing with your blankets. Honestly, you were thankful for him worrying. It felt like after the wormholes, your body threw a fit and decided you needed every lifetime of sickness to hit you. It'd be more frustrating if it didn't mean you had your own personal bedside attendant in the form of your favorite eye candy.

He had gone a step further from just keeping an eye on you and getting what you need to eschewing his crew uniform all together. The coveralls had been replaced with a t-shirt and sweatpants, something you'd honestly believe would be closer to pajamas for him. That is, you would, if he hadn't let it slip that he usually sleeps in just boxers when you pointed that out the first time. The immediate flustered response from him as he processed his own words was adorable, really. But still, the t-shirt let you trace the lines of muscle on his arms with your eyes, entranced by the tattoos of constellations, swirling galaxies, and peaks at schematics.

"Sorry I'm all gross," you muttered, feeling too self-conscious about all the mucus, the constant trail of tissues making your face feel raw, the rattling coughs. And sure, you didn't have a full-time fever, but the sweating overnight and feeling like an overcooked noodle as he had to help you get to and from the bathroom...at least your dignity was saved in that you could handle everything in there without help.

"Captain, you literally can never be gross enough for me. Wait. No. Too gross. You'll never be too gross for me." You laughed, another cough breaking through it, as Mark dropped his head into his hands. "I swear it's like my brain shuts off around you."

"All I have to do is exist for that to happen? I'm skilled."

The half-hearted glare through his fingers makes you laugh again. "I'm getting you the bad-tasting medicine from the medbay this time."

"No, don't!"

He smiles, watching you laugh again, already seeming brighter and better than the day before.

Maybe laughter really is the best medicine.

[writermask-0807]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART THREE - TEACHER GAKUHO X STUDENT READER

A/n: Hellooooo peoplesss. Writermask is back from the dead! Anyways, I'm finally finished with Forbidden Fruit, and once again, my sincerest of apologies for bad content, but do know that I try my best. I think I'll be lucky if I manage to get even one like to this post, cus I wrote it wayyyy too detailed and I'm pretty sure it's boring... I did try to fix it, and here we are. Hope you enjoy!

Keys: {} for his most prominent thoughts.

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, OOC Gakuho, cringe writing, (blame my sleep-deprived ass), and most words will be reused, since my vocabulary is painfully short, and English is my second language. Also, a lot here will not make complete sense, and sorta violent Gakuho???

Anyways, enough of my crap. Enjoy!

PERHAPS, at times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, Gakuho thought idly, lazily twirling the accursed picture between his long, slender digits, rich pools of dark hyacinth drenched with the distant, hazy mists of memories, as he disinterestedly studied the photograph flicking between the gaps of his nimble fingers.

Because earlier that evening, he had barely managed to compose himself at the sight of you, his precious darling, with the glassy glaze of unshed tears brimming thickly in your lustrous e/c hues, as they had swirled with a kaleidoscope of vivid, vibrant colors, rich with a wealth of emotions that unknowingly displayed the inner battle you'd been torn between, the boiling turmoil that he knew was tormenting your soul, coming in the bitter form of the hot, scalding tears forming in your eyes, the glitter of the salty remnants clinging insistently to your long lashes as they fluttered slowly, trying to blink the tears away, and he'd watched, half mesmerized and helpless, brain malfunctioning for a few short seconds, as the pearlescent liquid soaked the delicate porcelain of your reddened cheeks.

You'd looked so innocent then, doe eyes enlarged with the hot, stinging swell of unshed tears, your dainty palms curled around his much broader shoulders for support as you'd collapsed against him, petite, crumpled up form trembling with quaking tremors as you'd shuddered against him, the h/c shaded tips of your hair sticking out haphazardly at odd angles, your bottom lip, pink and dewy and irresistible, wobbling with a barely restrained sob, which he knew was clamping your throat, as shudders licked vehemently at your tender, supple flesh, so vulnerable and delicate, this fragile, fragile doll of a meek, timid girl, all pretty eyes and red lips, blanching flesh and ivory, unblemished complexion, crafted by the most flawless of porcelains, as though sculpted by the hands of Gods, and bred by forgotten deities.

And yet, you'd reeked of unbridled sorrow and misery, that reflected in a sharp flash of that aching, aching hurt that flickered painfully in your glimmering orbs of e/c, as you'd stolen a frightened glance at his impassive facade, and he'd felt guilt ram into him with the wrecking force of a freight train, the sweltering tip of a white-hot rod twisting his insides with a sharp feeling that left him slightly breathless, and in silent bafflement at the sheer amount of roaring emotion he felt, an ache he felt deep in the rattle of his bones, a resounding difference that made him feel as though something inside of him crumbled at the sight of your unwarranted despair.

Guilt pulled at his heartstrings, plucking at the delicate cords of his sanity and twisting and writhing a different sort of hurt within him, one that was foreign in his psyche, but agonizing nonetheless, the painful, albeit bizarre sensation feeling as though someone were sifting a roiling, pulsating mass of what felt like shards of broken glass beneath his flesh, making knots form in the pit of his stomach, rare anxiety twisting them with twinges of nauseating unease, and the guilt ate him alive, slowly but surely, gnawing at the frayed seams of his patience. Guilt at knowing he'd smeared your purity, staining what'd once been the very essence of innocence with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wake, colored your empty canvas with the morbid, dark shades of his own existence, had taken advantage of your naivety.

{And yet, there was that dark, dark part of him that did not regret anything, a fragment of his twisted, bitter soul that, despite the harsh consequences of dappling in the forbidden, and tasting your ripe, untouched innocence and tainting it for himself, that yearned for more, more…}

And yet, despite all superior pretences and sophisticated masquerades, in the end, he was still unfortunately human, and he was selfish, and addicted to the sugary sweetness in his bitter life that was you. And if he were an anchor for you to remain rooted, you were his salvation, the flicker of hope and the spark of light in the eternal, everlasting darkness his unfortunate existence was doused within.

So, resolve steeling with a rekindled firmness, he'd coiled his arms around your slim waist wordlessly, movements almost mechanical and stiff with abrupt shock, controlled by mere muscle memory and absent will, as his mind reeled at the sight of your beautiful, tear-stained face -{your pained expression had been so raw, so painful to behold and the odd coil of emotion inside his chest tightened, making it hard for him to breathe, and he'd felt cold fury coursing poisonously through his bloodstream, surging like molten lava and threatening to explode. No-one had the audacity harm you, his precious darling, no-one, damnit-!}-, as he'd pressed you tighter against him, steadying your quivering, small form against his larger frame, a broad palm coming to rest at the rigid column of your spine as he'd coaxed you into his firm, but gentle embrace, magenta hues glittering garnet with the heavy promise of impending doom, that he would definitely, and swiftly deliver mercilessly when he would deal with that yellow-hued menace.

{How could it have gone wrong? How could it all have gone to waste, all of his careful planning, all of his efforts rendered useless… How did it all unravel at the hands of someone as- as despicable as him? How did it still end up hurting you?!} And then, a more quiet, melancholy voice chiming in, {Despite all of his wealth and power and intellect, how did he fail to protect you…?} But he knew the answer, felt it deep within the rattle of his bones, and the ache in his thudding heart. {Because he was selfish, because of his terrible craving for your ripe, untasted innocence, and he knew it had been his fault, his fault for staining your untouched, fragile perfection, for tilting your world and painting your reality in a film of darkness. And yet, he was still unwilling to let you go, to have mercy and rid you of his dark presence. But then, it would have hurt him more than you. Indeed, he truly was selfsh, and undeserving of you, an angel in the cruel purgatory he suffered.}

"It isn't your fault. It was never your fault." He'd murmured with a firm finality, voice low and raw as he allowed a thin stream, a fraction of his raging emotions to seep into his velvety tone as he'd assured you, sultry and private and only for you to hear as he'd pressed himself closer to you, arms wound securely around your petite, frail form, breathing in the naturally sweet fragrance you secreted, alllowing the chorus of his drumming heartbeat and fluttering pulse to mingle with yours, as you'd exchanged soft, warm breaths. It wasn't your fault, because he knew it was his.

But he was selfish, and he would continue to keep you close to his aching heart.

And he'd marveled at the fact that you reciprocated his selfish desires with a burning need of your own, the thin nails of your fingers biting sharply into the bone of his shoulder blades as your arms curled tighter around his torso, face, still wet with the shimmer of tears, buried into the crook of his neck as you rested your weary head on his shoulder, mind undoubtedly clouded by a haze, and despite the occasional hitch in your stuttering breath, and sniffle catching in your throat, you'd allowed him to soothe your tears, lull your withering despair away, even after all the torture you'd soldiered through because of him, like the brave, brave girl you were. And despite everything, you'd remained happy and content nestled in his arms and swaddled in his scent, and it baffled him, baffled him just how willing you were to offer yourself up to him despite crumbling away, bit by bit, just how eager you were to please, to expose even the most intimate, personal values you held dear to your heart, show vulnerability when he could so easily twist it and turn it against you, dig blades under your flesh and watch you bleed.

But, for some incomprehensible reason, he chose to kiss instead, lips gently grazing across your soft, alabaster skin in a tender, loving reward, watching the heat bloom in a delicate dusting of crimson across your cheeks and crawling down your neck, and the shimmer of relief glistening wet and bright in your luminous eyes.

And then the air had shifted, and unspoken vows had been exchanged with your breathless gasps, and his deep, calming inhales as his mouth met yours, fervent but gentle, delicate and promising, and filled with so many emotions and words that he couldn't quite decipher. The words had streamed soundless and silent, threading unsaid in the atmosphere, hovering slight on your quivering mouth, and his sharp, silver tongue, and though Gakuho knew that neither of you were quite ready to share the words that would bind you both to a proper relationship from this awkward, abstract situation-ship you were hopelessly tangled within, he'd mouthed the shape of a soft, intimate promise against your tender flesh as he'd kissed you in silent reverence, voice inaudible even to his own ears, more of an oath to himself than you- to never let you be hurt ever again, and he intended to fulfill it.

So yes, at specific times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, as it had been his saving grace, for he'd nearly lost his glacial composure, Gakuho thought, and his jaw clenched at the memory of your e/c orbs glimmering with the delicate coating of tears, soaking your cheeks wet, and the whirl of insecurity and fear and despair he spied within those lustrous, glittering irises.

It had elicted a reaction unexpected from both you and himself, his mouth thinning into a wan, grim line, the sharp slope of his sharp, charming features painted cold with a stinging, forced indifference, bereft of any emotions, a slight twitch marring his furrowed brow, faux calm aura melting into something more sinister, murderous in its stiflingly dark presence even, an unpleasant sensation of scorching beginning to bubble inside his chest, hands clenching into tight fists as the sharp edges of his nails sunk into the flat of his palm, threatening to draw blood, the soft hyacinth of his eyes slowly bleeding into swirls of wrathful crimson and scarlet, spinning with the deepening shade of freshly split blood.

It had stirred an emotion within the deepest core of his very being, the incomprehensible simmer of raw anger pulsing beneath his marble, collected facade, a feeling he'd long since considered futile, the familiar but forgotten surge of molten lava coursing violently through his veins, the coil of anger twisting his guts and boiling his insides with a bloodlust he could not satiate, a roaring, aching hunger scalding his throat with the bitter, bleeding taste of unadulterated fury as it gnawed restlessly at his frayed nerves, rage, an ugly beast rearing it's head, talons digging into the shuddering arch of his spine, making his shoulders quake with barely restrained tremors, though they were from burning anger rather than the despair that reflected from your face.

But despite the abstract whirl of emotions shifting a roiling, contorting storm of twisting turmoil within him, festering restlessly like a plague, and feasting on his frayed nerves, and the bitter remembrance of once cherished memories and the absence of a precious person -{Ikeda, Ikeda, Ikeda, you were still a child, only a child, a child… so why did you do it? Why did you leave, why would you hurt me like this-?!}- the sight of your tears had brought him, and in spite of the yawning rift of anger tearing the fabric of his soul apart, Gakuho lifted the deep, glimmering wine of his gaze to meet the the sight of the yellow-tinted creature before him with a faux, deadly calm that he did not feel.

"Ah, Koro-sensei, how nice of you to finally show up."

He addressed the creature coolly, unfazed by the strong gust of wind that accompanied its sudden presence, the fierce gale rattling the bare insides of his bleak, colorlessly cordial office, as it whipped the brushes of ember-hued hair with a harsh, invisible force. The scalding rage that flooded his mind tightened its grasp upon the sight of the original perpetrator whom he'd stemmed back from all the rumors and photographs, the reason for this hopelessly tangled mess, and your precious, unwarranted tears. The unadulterated fury coiling and snaking around his ribs constricted his stuttering breath at this harsh reminder, and the wild thumping of his frantic, angry heart palpitated stubbornly underneath his ribs, cold fury simmering violently underneath the flawless marble of his flesh, as he felt his boiling wrath pulsing like the undiluted, steady flow of poisonous power through his veins, itching and crawling like the scuttle of insects beneath his skin, a power begging to be released and wrought for ruination and destruction.

Once he'd realized that he'd allowed a trickle of stiflingly dark hostility to stream through the false, composed aura surrounding him, Gakuho hastened to guard his reaction, quickly smoothing out the scathing expression to a blank mask, regaining his bearings. It wouldn't do him well to lose his cool so early on.

However, it didn't mean that he couldn't control it, sharpen and harness it, aim to kill, and the odd, almost feral glint that this sudden dark thought elicited from him glittering uncloaked, and molten garnet in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his rival.

It was with this intention that he spoke, voice as smooth and deceptively unperturbed as always, a honeyed, sultry caress of dark velvet tumbling off of soft lips, sunny tones sounding warm and perhaps even touched by a tinge of invitation, but it was only a well-constructed, honey-coated lie spilling forth from his mouth like the richest of wines, a sickly sweet venom laced with stinging mockery dripping from cold, twisted lips. And though his voice gave nothing away, there was a certain frigidness to his eyes that did not meet his false smile and cheerful tones. Gakuho knew that the creature had detected the sharp, cold accusing undertone coloring his faux cheery voice, poised taut and more than ready to stab and poison, but as polite as always, it didn't let it show, the usually stupid, wide smile stretching from its yellow, bulbous head, showing the rows of pearly white teeth, a thoughtless grin smearing and stretching the yellow flesh taut, as though its head was full of candy and rainbows, utterly remorseless and shamelessly so.

{As though it held no inkling whatsoever to the hurt it caused you, the pain and the chaos it inflicted and injected within your innocent mind, the ache and the world-weariness that clung onto your withering bones, the ghost of the tears that'd pooled in your eyes, the anxiety and the pain and the despair, as though your feelings hadn't mattered at all-!}

It irked him beyond reason, and Gakuho couldn't quite snuff the annoyed twitch marring his brow despite the sickeningly sweet saccharine of the unwavering, false smile twisting his lips.

"My sincerest of apologies, Chairman. I was caught up in a new assassina - " It began with the stirrings of a new excuse, but he interjected calmly, amethyst hues bleeding with the dusty brilliance of the shifting cosmos, painfully sharp and glinting calculatively in the light of the weeping dusk, tone colored with a dark, cold undertone, as he coated the sentence in a carefully constructed rich, baritone timbre, a deliberate bitterness souring each and every word that fell effortlessly from cold, curved lips, dripping acid enough to melt and sear and burn.

"As much as I would love to hear about Class E's most recent efforts on your assassination, I'm afraid I have summoned you here for another reason entirely, Koro-sensei."

Lifting the photograph he'd been absentmindedly flicking earlier between the gaps of his fingers, Gakuho leveled the creature with a blank, scorching stare that would make hell freeze over, with a smile so sickly sweet that it felt bitter plastered on his curled mouth, unadulterated poison gleaming sharp in his piercing gaze as he looked expectantly at the creature, the violet glare of his cosmic-tinted irises glittering molten carmine with the cold, murderous glow of the plaguing rage festering deep within him, and with his head tilted precariously, allowing the light of the dying sun to illuminate one side of his sloped face, drenching the other with a velvety darkness, Gakuho knew he must've looked unhinged, because he saw it recoil a bit, flinching, embarrassment staining a rosy pink to the yellow of its flesh.

"It has come to my attention that a certain person has been spreading rumors about myself and a student, going so far as leaking false photographs… You wouldn't happen to know anyone who is the original perpetrator, yes?" He inquired quietly, voice deceptively calm and soft, but there was a certain frosty chill to his tone that rippled with a silent, compelling authority, as he pinned the creature in place with a frigid, scalding stare that was not quite hostile- not yet anyway, but neither was it very calm. In a way, Gakuho mused, he held a vague semblance dimly reminiscent to glass, because there was a certain layer of fragility to his patience, and it could could break at any given moment.

{But that's the thing with glass. You break it, and you're the one that's bleeding.}

Gakuho assessed the creature with a sharp, almost feral glint burning in the darkening muave of his blood-drenched, moon-kissed eyes, the column of his spine arched rigid, and the sturdy, broad planes of his shoulders hunched taut and tense, posture poised with a deadly elegance, as though he were a predator ready to strike at any given moment, as the yellow-skinned creature recoiled a step back, wincing as his twisted barb hit the nail on the head, and rubbing two of its tentacles together in a sheepish manner as a slight coating of delicate primrose dusted the sunny tone of its skin.

His smile sharpened and tugged taut at his mouth and clenched jaw.

"N-no! Why would you think that?! It's not like I spied on you two on that romantically forbidden evening and took photos and spread them all around the school, and saved extra copies just in case and gossiped with other students while in disguise-...!" It rambled on senselessly, stuttering and stumbling over words, so painfully obvious, apparently paired with the inability to lie, and had Gakuho been another insignificant person in another circumstance, he would've burst out laughing, except he wasn't and knew better, for he didn't find your current predicament a laughing matter, or one to be amusement inducing.

Instead, there was a barely veiled glance of skepticism, and the surge of incredulity, before the familiar upsurge of thinly jaded anger invading through his senses.

The hot simmer of pulsing rage quickened beneath his glacial facade, and Gakuho felt the hairline cracks spidering the surface of his marble mask beginning to deepen, a twisted sensation of murderous wrath worming in through the dark crevices, poisoning his senses and clouding his vision an angry red. The tendrils of poisonous, cold fury creeping through his veins stifled his senses with the sheer intensity of its fierce, white-hot power, twisting and scraping his insides like a red-hot rod, wrenching and churning his gut, squeezing his racing heart with the sharp bite of its clawed talons, each gaunt digit of explosive fury digging deeper into the wild, pounding organ, threatening to make it burst from his contricted chest.

Instead of displaying this surprising myriad of emotions, however, Gakuho simply hummed a noncommittal sound, curling his nimble digits around the photograph, studying the scene playing within it (his lips pressed against yours, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer, and your eyes, shining bright with the kaleidoscopic glitter of surprise) disinteredly before crumpling it into a ball.

"Is that so?" Gakuho crooned softly, sarcasm lacing every rich, ambrosia dipped word as they rolled off of his sharp tongue, venomous and ready to stab and twist the bleeding wound for good measure, sugar-coated lies spilling easily from honeyed lips, though they were strangely hollow, and flat. The thread, the delicate gossamer string quilting his fraying patience together, was beginning to waver and threatening to snap, and he turned cold. And as Gakuho raised the frigid, uncaring carmine of his gaze to meet the creature's, cosmic-lidded hues exotic and cold in their magnificent, violet glory, their gazes clashed and collided with enough intensity to produce sparks.

Steepling and threading his fingers together in a calculative gesture, he casually leaned back into the lavish fabric of the chair, though his muscles stretched taut upon his wary bones, refusing to relax in the presence of a being that he knew was intelligent (just stubborn and perhaps even smart enough not to show its sharp intellect), marble mask guarded and unrelenting, as though he were a serpent, coiled and fast and cunning, ready to spring and strike at any given moment, fangs dripping with venom.

Gakuho stared at the creature with a purely predatorial knife edge to his vermilion gaze, honed sharp by the ripple of thick tension charging the air with the violent presence of electricity, his eyes blood-drenched rubies dripping with rich, liquid sangria, as he clashed gazes with the yellow menace, whirling with lost swirls of buried, gentle hyacinth, and the faint glitter of stardust as something dark, and terribly dangerous flickered behind the frame of his lashes.

He stared vehemently, gaze blade-edged and challenging, and this time, the mellow-skinned creature stared back, perhaps even a tad defiantly as it met his gaze head on, no longer drooping and shriveling underneath the chilly frost of his blank stare like a wilting flower, and he absently noted that the pink hue of embarrassment had receded its sunny skin.

No words were exchanged in the heavy, deafening silence that ensued, and both parties refused to acknowledge the killing intent rolling off of him in crushing, nauseating waves of pure, unfiltered darkness, crackling the atmosphere frigid and stifling it with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wakr. The clear, heavy threat of impending doom descended on the pregnant silence like a vulture to carcass, indescribably hungry and intent upon feasting.

A battle without words, though just as fierce, between two formidable rivals.

There was a heavy, stifling silence that would've knocked the breath out of a lesser mortal's lungs, laced with the poisonous, violent presence of killing intent rolling through the thickening tension, and then, a gentle knife buttering through, persuasive but bracing, - "I can't say I can tell you who is responsible for Y/N's plight, " The creature began carefully, thoughtfully, even, "but I do have a question, regarding the… rumors, if you will. "

"Oh? Do elaborate." Gakuho curtly prompted it to continue, arching a sleek, perfectly manicured brow in question, slowly urging the roiling, sifting mass of darkness to thin, a certain layer of velvet interest veiling his tone, and this time, it was genuine.

"I do not mean to imply anything of the sort, but, do you by any chance," It tilted its bulbous head curiously, and for all the chaos and hell it thought would follow next, its voice was gentle, and soft as it spoke. "Care for Y/N?"

This time, Gakuho truly couldn't mask the ripple of shock crossing his aristocratic, sharp features and widening his plum hues with a distinct surprise at the unexpectance of its genuine question, unconsciously allowing a plethora of emotions to paint the empty canvas of his marble mask, before forcefully schooling his expression into that same emotionless, blank state once more. Ignoring the turmoil wreaking havoc within his mindscape, he weighed the importance of the sudden question imposed on him, guarding and planning his next action carefully.

But despite his rigid frame, the hunched shoulders and the frown dipping the corners of his lips, he knew he hadn't mistaken the sincerity of this genuine, curious inquiry, and he wondered whether or not to answer truthfully, to forgo the anger and the pent-up frustration, to face the creature with the sting of honesty.

And then, the image of your bright smile flickered into existence within his mindscape, the relieving freshness of your bubbly, meek personality, and the simple beauty of your somehow carefree yet timid, shy smile quirking the corners of your plump lips, the chime of melodious bells that accompanied your laughter, the h/c tufts of your rich hair dancing with the cool breeze, the fragments of your innocence, untainted and tempting, and the shimmer of that incomprehensible, tender emotion that flitted in your rich pools of e/c, and the soft, gentle gaze you blessed him with… and then the memory intertwined fingers, whispered promises, a mingled heartbeat beating as one - love, and Gakuho suddenly came to a grinding halt, an unsure decision somehow firm in its sincere honesty.

The words he'd not yet said to you, always hovering on the tip of the tongue, the shape of the intimate promise he'd whispered against your flesh, the tender press of his mouth against yours, the salt of your tears somehow sweet on his lips…

The solemn, magenta gleam of his eyes softened to a warm shimmer in a raw finality, as he raised his head to meet the creature's gaze, the harsh and hollow expression he wore fading into a soft, unconsciously gentle smile tilting his lips as Gakuho finally admitted, as he said in soft, reverent utterance, "I do."

And somehow, Gakuho felt as though such simple, yet meaningful words had made all the difference, and the victory marring the mellow-skinned creature and stretching its mouth into a satisfied grin was unmistakable.

He had planned this, Gakuho's mind echoed with a dawning realization, and before he could say anything else, Koro-sensei spoke first, interjecting. "I see. If it alleviates your worries, Chairman, I shall take care to erase the photographs and such," He turned his head back to face Gakuho's bewildered, questioning gaze, before finishing his sentence with a broad smile, flashing the rows of milky white teeth. "After all, it seems we both care deeply about our students. You more than me, it seems." He added cheekily before disappearing in another strong gust of wind, once again rattling the bare insides of his domain.

He heaved an incredulous sigh, before leaning back in the chair, but despite everything, he couldn't help the small, content smile tugging persistently the corners of his mouth.

"Forbidden fruit perhaps does taste the best, after all."

[stupid-and-cute-are-enough]

i've got brain rot for lovelock. wrote a lil thing that's been rattling around in my head

hee hee hoo hoo @get-rammed

Lovelock sighs, trekking down the long ass hallway. One of the Map Bots is literally holding people hostage, even if they already have maps, so it’s Lovelock’s job to go fix it. He finds the thing wandering around the prize counter, jumping into action when it sees him. It wheels over faster than Lovelock would like, grabs him by the arm (definitely way too tight), and shoves its face in his.

“Hi! Please take this map. Take a map.”

“Mm-hmm. Ok, buddy,” Lovelock says, wholly disinterested.

He pulls out his faz-wrench, promptly powering the thing down. He grabs it by the collar of its shirt, using its wheels to easily move it into one of the many dark corners of the arcade. Sure, he’s supposed to go into the maintenance corridor, but the place creeps him out, and it’s way too crowded to work in peace. He parks the Map Bot, locking its wheels, and flips open the tiny step stool he carries with him. It’s a pain to do all of his work standing, and the thing is barely even a pound, so it remains one of the best purchases of his adult life.

Taking a seat, Lovelock takes out his bun and ties up the rest of his hair to keep it out of his face. He leans in, inspecting the wire connections on the bot’s back (he’s always thought it was weird and a little stupid that Map Bots have free-hanging wires). The area isn’t too bad; no major damage that might’ve come from a kid pulling at the wires, but it’s not perfect by any means. It’s probably not the source of the malfunction. He’s guessing something is the eyes are off and not letting the bots see maps, but it’ll save Lovelock a run in the future, so he might as well do that first.

Lovelock slowly sinks into his work, letting himself run on autopilot. He’s fixed up these things so many times it’s basically second nature. Humming to himself, he opens maintenance panels and fixes small sections of exposed wire.

“What are you doing?”

The little voice scares Lovelock, making him jump. He looks over and sees a little girl, decked out in Fazbear merch, with blond, curly hair. She’s got a face full of freckles, just like him, with a missing front tooth. She has a big smile on her face, eagerly awaiting Lovelock’s response.

“Oh, um,” he starts, glancing back at the bot, trying to find the best way to explain robotic maintenance to a child. He’s helped plenty of kids in the past– lost kids, hurt kids, kids scared by the animatronics, but he’s never had one come up to him and ask him what he’s doing. “The, uh, S.T.A.F.F Bots work really hard all the time, so sometimes, they can get a little… sick. So, I’m fixing up a sick robot.”

The little girl gasps, bouncing on her feet. “So you’re, like, a robot doctor?”

A soft smile spreads across Lovelock’s face, pulling slightly at his cheeks. He doesn’t particularly like kids, but sometimes they say the cutest shit. “Yeah, ha, I’m a robot doctor.”

The girl chats at Lovelock while he works, which he actually doesn’t mind. The little girl thinks it’s very cool that he’s a robot doctor, so that must also mean he’s very cool. By the time she’s finished her little tangent, Lovelock has finished up with the back of the Map Bot. He looks over to the girl, smiling and gently shushing her.

“I gotta keep fixing the robot, but I have to take off the face plate, which might be a little scary.” He smiles. “If you’ll get freaked out, here’s your free pass to leave.”

“No way!” The girl pouts. “I’m big! I can handle scary!”

“Ok, then,” Lovelock chuckles.

He stands up, pushing his step stool back with his foot. He unlocks the wheels of the Map Bot, turning it around with practiced ease. He locks the wheels again just as easily, not even looking when he hits the tiny lever with his foot. He pockets his faz-wrench, reaching for the two tiny buttons on the underside of the Map Bot’s jaw. The lower half of the face plate pops off with a slight hiss. The girl jumps in the corner of Lovelock’s eye, so he takes his time lifting the faceplate, watching the girl subtly. He removes the faceplate, finally, and turns to the girl with it in his hand. He makes jazz hands toward the exposed face, which makes the girl laugh.

“Eww, that’s so gross!” She laughs.

“Just wait; I have to take out the eyes next. Wanna watch?”

“Ew! No!” The girl laughs and runs off, presumably back to her parents, stopping midway to turn around and wave at Lovelock. He waves back.

He goes back to his work, popping out an eye, and whaddya know he was right. It’s an easy fix with the faz-wrench, which he gets done in minutes (compared to the like, ten he spent with the girl), and he resets the bot for good measure. He wheels the bot back to the prize counter, turning it back on and seeing how it does. The bot takes a few seconds to activate properly, but as soon as it has, it wheels up to a guest, politely offers them a map, and happily wheels away when the guests take it. Nice.

Soon enough, it gets close to closing, and all of the handers are wrapping up in the locker room. One of Lovelock’s coworkers, Clara, bumps him on the shoulder, catching his attention.

“You’re in a good mood today,” she remarks.

“Oh! Uh,” Lovelock scratches his cheek. “A little girl called me a robot doctor today.”

“What? That’s so cute!” Clara claps her hands together.

“Right?” He smiles, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Anyway, drive safe, Clara; see you tomorrow.”

“Drive safe!” His coworker calls.

Lovelock can’t get the little girl out of his head for the entire drive home. He thinks he’ll wear ‘robot doctor’ as a badge of honor for the rest of his life. He’d scribble it onto his nametag if he had the space. It’s the little things that keep this job bearable, so he’ll take every moment he can get.

[crinkled-emotions]

(Are We) Fixin’ to Break

2006

The first night Dee and Bradley met, she kicked him off the piano at a bar.

-

February

-

The bar was already packed to the rafters when Dee walked in. Shoving her Blackberry into her pocket she rounded the corner, trying to spot her friends. “Dee, hey! Over here!” Dee grinned, making her way through the crowds of people to get to Jade and their little group. She threw her arms around Jade, hugging her best friend who she hadn’t seen in about three weeks. “You look so tan! How was Cali?” The pair settled into the stools around the table, Jade flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder. “It was so worth it, I needed the break. I didn’t think of a single term paper and I wasn’t reciting laws in my sleep,” she giggled, Dee nodding. “That sounds-“ She was interrupted by the music blaring in the bar coming to an abrupt stop, followed by someone warming up on the piano. Jade looked to Dee in question but Dee just shrugged. “Who is that?” She asked, glancing around. Dee shook her head. “I have... no idea.” The crowd cleared a little and she saw a man with dark hair sitting at the piano in the corner of the room, preparing himself for a performance. She kind of hoped he didn’t play something sad; that was what tended to happen when the bar tenders let people use the instrument. She heard the chords and smiled. “Hey, I think I know this song!” She exclaimed. Jade raised an eyebrow, then snorted. “You fucking would.” You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain! Dee got up, making her way over to the piano. To her surprise a majority of the people in the bar were catching on and as they sang along to this charming guy, she couldn’t help but watch the way he captured the audience with his cheeky smile. He was tall, and despite the beer sitting on top of the piano Dee doubted he was over 21 for half a second. He glanced up at one point and winked directly at her. Usually that made her scoff. At that moment, she blushed.

- With the song over, Bradley basked in the cheering for a moment, then reached for his beer. He stood, only to bump into a woman who he had seen singing along. “Jerry Lee Lewis!” She exclaimed. He grinned, nodding. “It’s always a crowd pleaser!” “Do you know anything more recent?” “I-“ “-I’m going to take that as a no. Scoot.” She bumped him away from the piano, stretching out her fingers. As she started the first few lyrics of Garth Brooks’ Friends in Low Places, Bradley couldn’t help but laugh. The rest of the bar faded into the background as he listened to her belt the country song, panting at the end. “Like that’s much better,” he teased. She crossed her arms. “That’s so rude. It’s a classic!” He sat on the piano seat beside her, shoulder to shoulder. “We can agree to disagree, that’s cool too,” she said. Bradley extended a hand to her. “Bradley Bradshaw.” “Deanne Taylor, but my friends call me Dee.” “What’s your major?” Bradley asked, thinking of a song he could play. “Pre-law. Let me guess; pre-med?” “Fuck no!” Bradley laughed, nudging her shoulder, “political science.” “I can respect that. It’s popular around here; what drew you to it?” Bradley stopped. Swallowed. Painted a cocky smile on his face. “It’s the best way to get into the career I want.” Dee glanced at him for a moment, and then smiled. “Determined.  That’s hot.” Her fingers danced over the piano keys and Bradley immediately realised what song she was playing. It appeared the rest of the bar had caught on too and they all raised their drinks in respect. Jessie is a friend, yeah I know he’s been a good friend of mine.

- With the song over, Bradley glanced at Dee, their chests heaving. “Can I buy you a beer?” She smiled. “I’d like that.” As he got up and went over to the bar, Dee walked back to her friends. Jade grabbed her hand, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “He’s so hot! Do I need to find somewhere else tonight?” “What- no! You know I don’t do that-“ “-January last year, that blonde with a great ass?” Jade smirked and Dee smacked her shoulder, both collapsing into laughter. A cold beer was placed on the table in front of them and Dee smiled at Bradley, reaching for his shoulder. “Bradley this is Jade!” “I’m the over protective best friend!” Jade exclaimed over the noise in the bar. She glanced between Dee and Bradley after shaking his hand, an eyebrow raised. “I’m gonna go get another drink,” she said, catching the context clues. Dee and Bradley took her spot at the table, leaning in together to talk with the loud crowd behind them. “How far into your degree are you?” Dee asked. “I’m graduating in the fall,” Bradley replied, “you?” “Same. Law school after though.”

- They fell into easy conversation, and without either of them realising the rest of the night slipped by. By the time it was closing time, Dee had laughed until tears streamed down her face and Bradley had settled a little more in his seat. Jade swung past the table, putting a hand on Dee’s shoulder. “C’mon Deesaster, let’s get you home. Say good night to the nice man, honey.” Dee smiled at her, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Hey, um, actually... I think I’m going to stay here a little longer.” “It’s nearly closing time, what are you- oh. Cool, uh, call me tomorrow morning, yeah?” Jade narrowed in on Bradley. “I’ll know if you’re a serial killer by then. I’ve got your face committed to my memory now.” He blinked, a little spooked, and the pair watched as Jade left the bar with her friends. “Well, she’s...” “Terrifying?” Dee offered, laughing sheepishly. Bradley shook his head. “No. She cares.” Dee paused. Bradley inhaled sharply when she touched his thigh, he didn’t think he was that sensitive but he definitely was now. “I know this great place nearby,” he started. Dee leaned in, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?” “It’s... it’s got four walls, a great view of the building next door, and it only smells like burnt pizza sometimes.” Dee snorted, tapping his thigh. “Just how close is this place? It sounds like somewhere a distinguished law student shouldn’t be.” “It’s a couple streets away, but we could take back roads.” “Good. I hate walking in heels.” Bradley frowned, glancing under the table. Sure enough, Dee was wearing these cute little converse on her feet. “You’re not... wearing heels?” “Made ya look though, didn’t I?” She teased. Dee hopped off her barstool, reaching for his hand. “Have you paid the tab?”

- Sweaty, sated (and admittedly a little surprised), Dee curled up against Bradley and kissed him once more, her heart slowly returning to a normal rhythm. She hadn’t been expecting much, not even an orgasm (men at college were not concerned with making her come, they tended to be more concerned with themselves) but Bradley had proven himself to be a gentleman. He’d gone above and beyond what she’d expected and she definitely wasn’t complaining about the warm feeling in her stomach. His chest was still moving, trying to catch his breath, but he reached for the blankets and pulled them up, glancing over at her. “So...” “So, what do your parents do for work?” Dee was expecting laughter; instead, she got a short sarcastic snort and Bradley moved on to his side. “My mom hasn’t worked since I was born, too busy running around after my ass. My dad died when I was little.” “I’m sorry, that must have been really hard for you,” Dee said immediately, reaching over to cup his cheek. Bradley shrugged, clearing his throat. “It was a long time ago, mom said I was only two. I don’t really remember him anymore.” He sighed, then glanced down at her. “What about you, huh? What about your family?” Dee hummed, a fond smile crossing her features. “My mom’s an architect and my dad’s a writer. They both work from home; it gets a little chaotic, especially when all six of us kids were still at home.” “Six?” Bradley’s eyebrows shot up and he looked floored. Dee laughed, flopping on to her back. “Yeah; I have three brothers and two sisters.” “And you’re the oldest?” “Second from the top. I have an older brother who’s twenty-three and then my younger siblings are twenty, eighteen, seventeen and twelve.” “Goddamn.” Dee leaned in and kissed him, brushing a hand over his cheek. “Hey, so, I was thinking...” Dee raised an eyebrow, smiling when Bradley reached for her. “Instead of doing a walk of shame- ow- instead of doing a walk of shame, how about you stay tonight? We can have breakfast in the morning; I make a mean frozen waffle.” Dee had whacked his shoulder, but then buried into him as she laughed. “Walk of shame? Excuse you, I am more of a stride of pride girl. And, well, as for tomorrow... frozen waffles, huh? That sounds... good.” “Maple flavoured syrup and all.” “You’re hilarious.” Dee reached for her underwear while Bradley scooted to the edge of the bed to clean up too. “Hey, can I borrow a shirt?” Dee called over her shoulder. There was one placed beside her and she turned. “What?” She asked, a smile on her face. “Nothin’.” He disappeared into the main living area and Dee got up to slip into the bathroom. When they reunited in the bedroom Dee pushed Bradley on to his back and curled up beside him, revelling in the warmth he was giving off. She traced the scar on his neck, glancing up when he flinched ever so slightly. “Sorry! Did that hurt?” “No, no; it’s an old one, doesn’t have a lot of feeling in the scar tissue. Just... people don’t usually like it.” “Yeah, well, I do. Makes you look rugged and handsome.” “Are you talking lawyer to me?” “Maybe I am.” Bradley laughed, running his hand down her back. “Sleep well.”

-

Dee woke first the next morning. Her pillow was soft, warm... and rattling. Hm. She reached up to scratch at her face but found it was heavier than she remembered it being, trapped by . “Morning.” Oh fuck, it talks too? “Hey, good morning. What time is it?” Bradley yawned, gently moving over to find his alarm clock. “Nearly eight. Do you have much to do today?” “I’m a law student, I always have a list of things to do.” Dee gently nudged his arm, rolling on top of him. Pressing their lips together, she felt Bradley’s hand trail down her body. “Am I on that list?” He asked. Dee cackled, shoulders shaking as she straddled his hips. “I guess you could say that.” “Sorry, I say dumb shit when there’s a beautiful woman sitting on me.” “I can tell.” -