#i might grab a pack of joints or something

[davepaste]

Didn't expect my next weed order to take like a week to ship, so I look at the local dispos to see if i can get something to fill the gap

the cheapest junk (pre-ground) starts at 75$ for a half ounce pretax

i immediately become very comfortable waiting the few extra days

[raccoon-in-the-danger-room]

Logan, Laura, Russell, and Wade are such a wild found family combo wombo.

Wade is the dad who's always wanted kids but doesn't know how to actually handle them and would gladly encourage the kids to disembowel or burn their high school bullies, no questions asked. He forgets to pick them up at school most of the time, but always shows up at PTA meetings because he remembers that one teacher they off handedly complain about. Whenever he packs them lunch, it's definitely not healthy, but he makes sure there's a lot of it so they never feel hungry. When he hears that they have a crush on someone for the first time, he pulls them aside to have the most insane and cringey but thorough sex ed class they've ever been in -- it ends with him giving them both condoms, dental dams, and a coupon to Adam and Eve. He absolutely loooooooooves being a Karen when it comes to school. Every staff member there thinks he's the worst parental figure they've ever met, but they can say whatever they want. Cause when he does manage to pick them up on time, Laura and Russell have the biggest smiles on their faces as they bum rush him into a big group hug.

Logan is the dad who never really wanted kids but is so good with them because he wants them to be better than him. Also helps that he was still a teacher in The Worst Timeline. Whenever they need genuine advice, they turn to him. Sometimes he rambles or tells a weird anecdote before getting to the point, but he gives his honest advice about whatever they're going through mixed with some wisdom from Charles. He's really good at observing his kids -- knows their tells when they're lying, knows the signs of when they're hangry instead of actually angry, can tell the difference when they're silent or when they've become nonverbal because something really bad happened -- and adjusts accordingly. When Laura starts speaking in rapid, rabid Spanish he'll grab her hand and squeeze it gently so she can calm down from an anxiety attack. When Russell starts impersonating Wade (more than usual) and deflecting questions about how school's going, he'll take him to their favorite burger joint to eventually talk about his bullies. He stays up late, wearing his old man glasses, to help the kids with their homework because he "has insomnia anyways" so he might as well double check their work. He's especially good at history.

I think they all really love each other so much. Don't even get me started on Laura and Russell's sibling relationship. I could write a whole separate post about them and how Russell has such a HUGE big brother complex, is always hyping Laura up at her sport matches, or how Laura always protects Russell at school and he doesn't even know about it.

Anyways, I love found family and I think they're the wackiest bunch of them all.

[cherryredcheol]

"pretty"

tldr: all the way chan uses your nickname a/n: he is my boyfriend (for real(not clickbait))

chants: when he needs you to slow down

“pretty, pretty, pretty” he rushes out, trying to get you to focus on him. you were pacing back and forth in the bedroom listing things off on your fingers, trying to remember if you forgot to pack something in your already overflowing suitcase. you were headed to busan for your anniversary and unlike him, you were a little stressed. 

“who knew it was so hard to pack for three days” he said under his breath as he got up from the bed stopping you in your tracks. you look up at him, face flushed from the stress and pout. he swears his heart skips a beat. he knew he shouldn’t think it was cute to see you so stressed but he was so endeared by the effort you’d put into this trip for the two of you. 

”this is going to be great because we’re celebrating us. let it be fun, pretty.” his shoulders shook as he saw you roll your eyes, pulling a deep laugh from him. you stepped around him and continued pacing, side-eyeing his empty bag in the closet. “it's our anniversary, you could forget your luggage entirely and it would actually make me happier.” 

slurs: when you open the door

“pretty~” he drawls, giving you a million-dollar smile. your eyes bulge as you take in the very drunk man before you. you were under the impression that he would be staying with the boys tonight since it was a “boy’s night”.  skincare complete, you thought you’d be alone for the evening and had your show already pulled up on the tv and your favorite snacks laid out on the coffee table. 

“let me in” he whines and you grab his hand, quickly pulling him into your apartment afraid your neighbors might come out to investigate the noise. you didn’t want anyone to catch you and your boyfriend in a less-than-desirable state. you had just moved into this building together. he beams at you, leaning down for a kiss, but you pull away, grossed out by the smell of liquor on his breath.

“you’re not even going to kiss me?” he was pouting now, disappointed he’d gotten a ride back to your apartment from the dorms and wasn’t even going to get a kiss for his efforts. you watched his pout deepen into a frown and gave in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, still repelled by the smell of his mouth. “if i shower will you kiss me for real?”

sniffles: after a fight

“hey, pretty?” he knocks on the bedroom door, peeking his head in. you’re flat on your back, eyes staring above you at nothing. he stands nervously at the door, unsure if he should enter. when you glance in his direction, he takes it as an invitation to come in. 

‘'i umm…” he pauses, standing next to the bed, your shared bed that now he wasn’t sure he was welcome in. you saw his hesitation and reached out a hand for him. the distance between you suddenly unbearable, fight seeming frivolous now reflecting upon it. you couldn’t even remember what you had been fighting about to begin with. all of it seemed so silly now after having spent the last few hours alone in this room when the person you wanted to be with most was in the living room, the only thing keeping you apart was your shared stubbornness. 

“i’m sorry, pretty,” he sat down at your side, grabbing your hand. your eyes had been trained on the slowly spinning fan above you but now turned to him, shocked to hear his voice so thick with emotion. you sat up, keeping your hands connected, sensing he needed some comfort in this moment. “i don’t like fighting with you, pretty.” 

grunts: when you land on top of him

“pretty–” it came out gruff, surprised by the sudden addition of your weight on his lap. the puff he’d been holding in his mouth came out with his words, making the already hazy living room even more so.  his eyes were lidded and rimmed red and you couldn’t help yourself when you saw him sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone with one hand, a joint balanced in the other. 

“is everything alright?” he was stoned, not fully coherent, but could still tell something was up. when you kissed him instead of providing an answer, he understood. you did always have a thing for him when he smokes. kissing you felt better than any joint had ever made him feel, the rush immediate and the high unmatched. 

“whoa,” he pulled back when you deepened the kiss, as far back as he could go pressed into a couch with you on his lap. the sting of rejection hurt but he soothed it immediately pressing smaller kisses sound your face, pulling a giggle from you, suddenly feeling a little high yourself, probably on him. “let’s get out of here and,” he held up the other half of his joint, “finish this somewhere more private?”

mumbles: when he wants something

“pretty?” you looked up at him from the floor of the practice room, setting your laptop aside to give him your attention. you’d recently gotten into the habit of bringing your work with you to hybe when you came to watch him practice. as much fun as it was, it got kind of old to watch him perfect the same five moves for hours on end. 

“would you dance with me?” he’s holding a hand out to you, a hopeful smile on his lips but words timid, rushed. you suddenly notice the dimmed lighting in the room and soft music playing from the speakers. you’d been so lost in your screen you hadn’t noticed anything. you blush and take his hand. he pulls you to your feet and into his chest. 

“you’re a good dancer,” he says after a few minutes of slowly swaying back and forth to a playlist full of romantic music he made with only you in mind, this moment was something he had hoped for when you’d started coming to the practice room at night. “i love you, pretty.”  

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[corvidae-00]

Joost Klein x drunk!reader in the club🎉🎉🥳 (but she’s like messy drunk and probably needs to be cut off)

A/n: MY FIRST REQUEST 😭😭 THANK YOU ANON! I had tons of fun writing this for you! I hope you like it 😭

CW: weed, drinking, throwing up, swearing, clubbing, LET ME KNOW IF I MISS ANYTHING!!!!!

Word count: 1,297

Getting drunk was something that wasn't the norm for you, not that you didn't drink but you always were lenient at getting DRUNK. But it was a good night, Your boyfriend and his group had just finished a concert that went super well and with adrenaline and energy still high everyone decided the night club was a good location to let loose and enjoy the rest of the night while its young. You of course decided to let loose a little- just a little tonight seeing as your boyfriend Joost was so ecstatic and you had so much energy from being in the crowd who was loud and very very expressive tonight. The club was surprisingly packed and that just added to the excitement even more. “We are going to have a good night, yes?’ your boyfriend whispered into your ear leaning down and kissing your cheek with a smile “of course” you reach back to run your fingers through his hair that was still damp from the many water bottles he had poured over himself to cool down. He shudders and sighs into your ear before standing up and stretching a little looking over at his friends and back over at you sliding you his card from his wallet “Get yourself something to drink- i might lay off the alcohol tonight-” he thinks to himself deciding a few cigarettes and maybe a joint or two sounded a lot better than getting drunk and dealing with a hangover ontop of exhaustion the next morning “then come meet us over there-” he points over at a little less crowded part of the club ���maybe me and you can test the dance floor” Joost winks leaning down to kiss both your cheeks which you accepted before catching his lips in a quick kiss “Ill be over in a second” You hummed “Save me a seat-” you requested stepping back towards the crowded bar. Joost smirks and pats his thigh with a wink “you always have one if you ask” He purrs and you can feel your face flush before waving him off “go sit down” You chuckle before turning on your heel going towards the bar ignoring the cat call your boyfriend sends your way but you cant ignore the small smile and a laugh making its way up your throat.

You dont actually know what happened. One drink turned into two before you could stop and then three- you knew you were supposed to go back to meet up with Joost and your friend but the drink you randomly picked out was just- so good- and before you could even step away you had finished the glass and got another. Clearly the alcohol in the drink was a lot stronger than what you were used too as you began to get fuzzy and eager for the next drink- the bartender not realizing how quickly your tolerance was dwindling- and you were also admittedly not aware of how quickly your once steady standing turned unsteady and how quickly vomiting sounded pretty nice, on your 8th glass you ended up leaning on the counter to support yourself drunkenly singing along to the fast paced dutch song blasting out of the stereos at the head of the club- the people around you joining in on your own little concert you didn't even realize was pretty loud. Ordering another drink unable to even lift your arm without feeling tingly or nauseous you felt a hand grab your shoulder “I have a boyfriend you fuck-” You whip your head around and look at the chest that greets you “Ugh men-” You slur and look up at concerned blue eyes “ shit schat- your fucking hammered” Joost mutters smelling the sweet alcoholic drink on your breath “How much did you have?” he questions a little worried as you blink and then giggle a little “You are so hot-” you mutter falling into his arms a little “how did i bag a beauty like youuuu~” you giggle running your fingers over his shoulders and Joost wraps his arms around your waist to support your unsteady weight “so warm” You flutter your eyelashes at him closing your eyes and humming in content “You are drunk” Joost hums smiling down at you a little “How did you get so drunk- i leave you alone for a few minutes” He raises a brow not an ounce of anger or disappointment in his voice- if anything he is amused- you dont ever get drunk so what was different today? Joost reaches behind you grabbing your half drank beverage and taking a swig surprised at the intensity of the Alcohol count “Holy shit-” He blinks and looks down at you “i didnt know you were that hardcore” He laughs dodging your hands which are now trying to touch his face in sheer admiration “it’s nuuthing” you giggle out running your fingers through his hair “mmsoft” you chuckle letting Joost gently pull you away from the bar after confirming with the tender the bill was payed not worried about the expenses. Joost tugs you along letting you drag your feet every now and again not too worried about how heavy you were as you werent heavy at all to him, just a cute bundle of drunken mumblings and yelling at women who even look at Joost- threatening to fight them outside even if you couldnt stand by yourself- your threats or reasonings for being mad not even making sense and thus causing your blonde boyfriend to sheepishly wave and look down at you with slight amusement. Once outside Joost lets you get some fresh air, the club too stuffy and heavy to even think straight let alone feel better after getting hammered. “I dont feel good” you finally slur out hanging your head in defeat “i dont doubt it mijn liefje” he whispers to you rubbing your back before quickly pulling your hair up letting you throw up the insane amount of alcohol in your body. Joost winces and rubs your back with his free hand. You blink slowly once you are able to stand up straight, “Ugh” you groan out holding your head and Joost takes out some napkins he had in his back pocket to wipe your mouth and shake his head “we should get you back to the apartment” Joost offers and you pout “But the night is still younggg” you whine and joost takes your arm wrapping it over his shoulders careful to lean down so he doesnt hurt or stretch your arm out “theres always another night” He hums to you and starts leading you away towards your shared home careful and slow listening to your slurred complaints and compliments mixed in always something about how wonderful his hair looks or how special he is to her.

When they get home Joost is quick to lay you down in the bed and get your shoes off and changing your flimsy drunk figure into a pair of soft pajamas. He kisses your cheek and laughs softly “you are so cute” He admits standing up straight “No you are” You retaliate looking up at him and giggling. Joost quickly leaves the room and comes back with a glass of cold water and sets it down on the night stand before climbing into bed with you discarding his shirt and scooping you towards him. “Feeling any better?” he questions running his fingers through your hair “jus a lil” you mumble snuggling yourself into him the room spinning slightly “Thats okay, ill take care of you tomorrow” Joost hums leaning over and turning the lamp off “Just take it easy” He kisses your forehead “and next time there is alcohol im monitoring you” He jokes laughing at your groans of disagreement

Dutch meaning: schat- babe. Mijn liefje- my darling

A/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST JOOST FIC!!! Keep the requests coming!!! I love writing for this man

[elllisaaa]

SUGARCOAT - L. JIHOON

KINKTOBER DAY 7 - ORAL FIXATION

SUMMARY : one of the first thing jihoon noticed about you was that you always needed to have something in your mouth - be that candies, cigarettes or joints, lollipops... he just didn't think that your obsession extended to him and his fingers too.

-> pairing : friend!jihoon x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.9k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : oral fixation (obviously), dry humping, finger sucking, kind of a hand kink, riding, dirty talk, swearing, unprotected sex, oral (m. receinving), cum eating

+ the way i'm depicting jihoon does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- Do you have candy Jihoon ?

- Uh… Yeah, there should be some in one of these drawers.

- Thanks !”

You hopped from your spot on the couch of the studio and went to rummage through the drawers he indicated, immediately stuffing a piece of candy into your mouth when you finally found them. It was a habit of yours that Jihoon observed pretty quickly - the way you always needed to chew on something. You always had lollipops or gum in your bag, and when he noticed the nicotine patches you carried with you too, he guessed that it was to conceal your consumption of cigarettes. You never mentioned it though, so Jihoon never did either, not wanting to make you feel uneasy. 

However, he couldn’t deny that he had sometimes watched you a little too closely when you were sucking on a lollipop, that he had stared a little too long at your lips when they were coated in sugar from the popsicle you just ate. Jihoon tried to focus back on his work and not let himself be troubled by his dirty thoughts again. 

“- Jihoon, could you help me with this ?”

You had come closer to him, placing your laptop on his desk to show him the question of your assignment that you were struggling with. You made your studies into musicology, and having a talented producer and singer like him as your friend was very helpful. While Jihoon tried to clarify what you hadn’t understood, you were unable to listen to him, hypnotized by the way his hands moved around on your keyboard. 

“- Are you even listening to me ?

- Uh, yeah, sorry, I just got distracted.”

Jihoon huffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, throwing a dark glance your way that made you gulp down and want to take his pretty fingers in your mouth even more. 

“- What’s the point of teaching you all this if you’re more focused on drooling on my hands ?”

Your cheeks heat up at his words, trying to come up with something to defend yourself but nothing coherent was going to come out of your mouth and you knew it. He had caught you red handed, might as well tell him the truth. 

“- It’s just… This is so embarrassing… You see, I love to… Have something in my mouth. And well, your hands are pretty, and I’m sorry this is really weird.”

You sighed as you looked back at your laptop, ready to pack all your things and leave him alone to come to terms with what you had just revealed, but Jihoon didn’t let you go too far as he grabbed one of your wrists to stop you. He forced you to turn back to him, finding you so cute with your red cheeks and your shifty eyes. 

“- I don’t think it’s weird Y/N, it’s… Kinda hot actually.”

You snapped your head back at him, watching him with your widened eyes, and Jihoon couldn’t help but giggle at your reaction. His own cheeks were starting to grow hotter with the way your gaze shifted from shock to something much more darker.

“- You do ?

- Yeah.”

Slowly, you got closer to him again, until you could sit on his lap. Jihoon’s breath was caught in his throat as you reached for his hand and brought it up to your lips. You closed your eyes as you kissed the pad of every one of his fingers softly, missing the way Jihoon was looking at you - amazed, and so fucking excited. You opened your eyes to dive into his intense gaze as you parted your lips and pushed one of his fingers into your mouth. Jihoon was surprised by the contented sigh you let out as you started to suck around his finger. You had told him you loved it, but he didn’t think that it was going to turn you on that much. He could already feel his shorts growing tighter as you took a second finger into your mouth, this time moaning as you coated them in your saliva. 

“- D-Do you like it ? Is it what you wanted ?”

You let another noise escape you as a response, involuntarily rolling your hips against him and making you both gasp at the feeling of a friction that felt good, but not quite good enough. Quickly, Jihoon’s other hand found your hips and pulled you closer to him, until you could sit directly on his clothed cock. Your sounds of pleasure were muffled by his fingers, but Jihoon still drank every one of them as he helped you grind against him. You ultimately let go of his fingers, cheeks burning up and arousal dripping into your panties as you moved against him faster. 

“- F-Fuck… Feels so good Jihoon, I love your fingers… 

- Good, I want to make you feel good. This… This was so hot, you’re so fucking hot.”

You locked eyes with him again as you stilled your hips, trying to catch your breath, but the way Jihoon was looking up at you with such adoration, with such lust, made you even more hungry, made you crave more and more of him. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for a second too long, and soon enough, Jihoon crashed his mouth against yours, your tongues finding each other as he helped you resume your moves against him. You whined into his mouth, and you swallowed his own moans as you humped his clothed cock like a dog, your dignity long forgotten by now. 

“- Can I… Let me fuck you Y/N, I need to be inside you.

- Yes, fuck yes, please.”

The way you were so quick to answer and help him get out of his sweatpants made his cock throb. You looked so pretty like that - on top of him, pushing your underwear away to take him whole into your wet cunt. Jihoon couldn’t see the way he was filling you up because of your skirt that you hadn’t had enough care to take off, but the feeling was way more than enough to make him groan out your name and buck his hips up. 

“- You’re so tight around me… Is this what having my fingers in your mouth does to you ?”

You moaned against his mouth in agreement as you started to roll your hips on top of him, eyes glued to his face, watching intently as Jihoon threw his head back, lips parted and letting out pants and sighs to your every move. You slowly build up a rhythmic pace, deep and sensual, allowing you to feel every inch of his cock dragging against your walls. His hands were holding your waist, but he made no efforts to help you ride him, too lost in the pleasure you were giving him to care. 

“- Jihoon…”

His name coming out of your mouth in an airy whine forced him to open his eyes and look at you again, his breath hitching in his throat at the way you were staring at him - in adoration, like you desperately needed him, like you needed him more than anything. 

“- I want your fingers in my mouth.

- Take them, take them baby.”

You didn’t need more than that to grab his hand and bring it to your lips, letting Jihoon push his fingers into your mouth. His eyes stayed glued to the way your lips were wrapping around his digits, to the way you were sucking them just like your favorite lollipops. You unconsciously sped up the pace of your bouncing as you closed your eyes and let your tongue run along his pretty fingers. 

Jihoon’s free hand strengthened its hold on your waist, helping you move up and down quicker, the new rhythm and the slight change of angle making you both moan. Some drips of your saliva had started to run down his hand and his wrist but he didn’t seem to care, going as far as pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, making you whine around them. And Jihoon couldn’t help but wonder if it would feel just as good to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, if you would be just as warm and wet around him, if you would take him just as nicely as his fingers. 

“- S-Shit, Y/N…”

You moaned around his fingers again, swirling your tongue around his digits again before getting them out of your mouth. They were dripping in your saliva, and the fucked out look in your eyes as you watched the mess you made pushed him to quicken his pace, the both of you gasping in harmony, the low and needy moans coming out of Jihoon’s lips tightening the knot forming in your stomach. 

“- Love your fingers… Couldn’t stop thinking about them.”

If Jihoon would have felt a little cocky about the revelation usually, now he just squeezed his eyes shut, his two hands grabbing your hips to help you move on top of him. The way your cunt was clenching around him rendered him unable to think straight, the only thing going through his mind in that moment being you. 

“- You love my cock too, don’t you ? 

- Y-Yes, love it so much… Jihoon, I’m close…”

His eyes met yours again, and you stared at each other as you felt your orgasm built quickly. His cock was hitting the perfect spot inside of you, your whines growing high-pitched as you felt closer and closer to the edge with each new thrust of his hips up to match your rhythm. Jihoon didn’t fare any better, his gaze unfocused and filled up with lust, fingers digging into the skin of your waist under the intensity of the pleasure coursing through his veins, and he wasn’t even ashamed of the way he was moaning out loud now. 

“- C-Cum on my cock… Please….

- O-Oh my god !”

The force of your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, your eyes rolling back and pussy clenching down on him as your uncontrolled moans echoed in the room. Jihoon watched you, fascinated, as you fell apart on his dick. He was almost there too, but before he could even ask you to let him cum too, you got off his lap and down on your knees, settling between his thighs without a word. 

“- W-What are you d- Ah ! Fuck… You… You feel so good.”

Your mouth wrapping around his still hard cock had Jihoon trembling in his desk chair. The view he was craving for now in front of his eyes, and the feeling of your tongue licking your own slick from his length made it impossible for him to hold back anymore. He wanted to last longer, to enjoy the sight a little longer, but seeing you look at him through your lashes, with your eyes wide and filled with desire was too much for him. Though, it was the way you whined around his cock that made him swear under his breath as he released in your mouth, throwing his head back as you gulped down every last drop of his cum. 

Your hand brushing against his cheek was what made Jihoon reconnect with reality, as he was still struggling to catch his breath. The sight of your lips still covered in a mix of his cum, your own wetness and saliva could have made him hard all over again. But instead, Jihoon pulled you into a passionate kiss, tasting himself on your tongue as he wrapped his arms around you. He broke the kiss to press his forehead against yours, an action maybe a bit too sweet and loving for two friends but you didn’t care. 

“- Next time you need to suck on something, call me.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[silentglassbreak]

ok bestie I have a request for my delulu self mwuah

my scenario:

Noah’s your hot neighbor, lives in the apartment across the hall. you’ve really only spoken in passing— to exchange pleasantries and phone numbers, just in case— but you did have takeout with him and his rowdy group of guy friends (Folio, Ruffilo, and Jolly, who else?) when he was first moving in. a thank you for moving one single box (that’s all they let you touch before one of them was grabbing it out of your hands). Noah mumbles something about him not about to let “his pretty new neighbor carry his shit.”

one night you touch yourself to the thought of him, you might moan his name 🤭— he’s not even home half the time, what are the chances he’d hear you? except he does. because he’s home and the walls are thin. and your phone dings with his text.

want some help, sweetheart? ft. Noah sleeping over please!!!

preferably anonymous other than x fem!reader but I like pet names!!! sweetheart, baby, angel are my favorites <33

I know it’s a lot of details, you don’t have to include them all, it’s more so to give you an idea of the vibe 💖💖 utterly filthy but still he’s still a softie and a sweetheart

thank you this is actually so cool of you mwuah

Mmmm we love a good hot neighbor trope, yeah? What a cutie patootie he is, eh?

Mkay, let’s get into this.

After Writing Notes: This man will be the death of me…

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, Noah being an absolute munch 😜

Skin

“Good morning, Angel.” His deep voice rings in my ears, and there he is, as he always is, sitting on his balcony, joint in his hand, guitar perched against the rail. He’s likely writing again, but Christ, does he have to always be out there at 7AM? I hate being up this early, and am never in the mood to speak to anyone.

I just want to sip my coffee, clear my cobwebs, and mentally prepare for my workday. The shop is packed, and my books are completely full, my first session starting at 9AM. I don’t have time for his early-bird antics today, nor the patience.

“Morning.” I grumble between sips of steaming hot coffee.

“Sleep well?” He pushes his joint out in the ashtray, careful not to damage it, obviously saving it for later.

“Mmph.” Is all I can muster while leaning back in my chair, pulling my sweater tighter around me. The crisp October morning has brought about hues of orange and amber in the trees surrounding the building. My favorite time of year.

“Busy day today? Must be if you’re up at this hour.”

I sigh heavily, eyes darting to him. His pale yellow hoodie and black beanie look so perfectly placed.

Noah is attractive, there is no arguing it, but he’s annoying. He’s always so positive and chipper. His friends are always over, as upbeat as he is. They’re in a band, and to be fair, they aren’t bad. They just like to start practicing at 10AM, on Sundays, which are the only days I get to sleep in.

I like them. On occasion, they’ll invite me over for pizza and to watch hockey, which I usually accept. None of them have ever been creepy or made a pass at me, which is so refreshing.

Noah does some mild flirting, using pet names instead of my actual name. Nick let it slip once that it’s because his ex has the same middle name as my first name, and that bugs him. He would rather not associate me with someone like her. I suppose that’s fair, so I’ve let it go. They’re all sweet, non-provocative names anyway.

“All booked today.” I slipped out.

He nodded. “I plan to schedule with you soon.”

I rolled my eyes. “You say that every week, Noah.”

His guitar was now dutifully placed on his lap, his fingers strumming a slow melody. “True, but the struggling musician lifestyle doesn’t exactly come with a wad of cash.”

I smirked. “Told you I’d discount you.”

“Discount as in…free?” I chuckled.

Despite hating his early routine, he usually did manage to perk me up in the mornings.

I stood up, opening the sliding door and slipping inside. “Keep dreamin’, champ.”

-

The day had been absolutely brutal. My wrists were still vibrating from holding my machine the entire day. I had hoped my last client would be done two hours earlier, but he had to keep taking breaks. Because of that fact, my hands were extra tired, and there was no way I could finish my sketch in preparation for tomorrow’s client, so I had to wake up early again.

Slinging my bag over the back of the couch, I huffed out a groan as I slumped down onto it. Days like today were becoming more and more frequent, and I was exhausted. I needed to clear my books for a week and have a staycation. Do nothing and see no one.

Heaving myself up, I made my way to the bathroom, taking my hair out of the tight bun it had been kept in all day. My fingers scrubbed at my scalp before I turned the water of the shower on.

I let my wrists and hands sit under the scalding spray for what felt like hours, just trying to loosen the joints. Afterwards, I massaged a brutal amount of lidocaine cream on them to ease the tension.

Pouring myself a glass of red wine, I stepped out onto my balcony with my favorite sweatshirt and the latest book my sister had recommended to me. It was a love story with very light smut, so she figured I’d enjoy it. If only she had known the types of stories I read regularly.

Still, I humored her.

Flipping on my porch light, I leaned back on my chair and pulled a blanket from my basket over me, covering my bare legs.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I startled, nearly spilling wine all over the pages.

“Jesus Christ, Noah!”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me.”

“No, gosh you almost gave me a stroke.”

His eyes peered over the separating railing at me. “Whatcha reading?”

I snorted, taking a gulp of my wine. “Some romance novel my sister keeps bugging me to read.”

He nodded his chin at this, not verbally responding. I noted the beer in his hand, and his eyes peering out at the city below.

I didn’t know Noah well at all. In fact, I knew so little that it was almost freaky, given that I saw him all the time. That’s the price I pay for being closed off. I do, however, know that he doesn’t drink much at all, and typically only does when something is bothering him.

“You okay?” I closed my book around my fingers so as to not lose my place.

He didn’t look up at me or respond, just took a pull from his beer.

No quips or witty remarks? This was even more unlike him.

“Bad day?”

He nodded.

“Want to talk about it?” He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say anything. He just sighed heavily. I pursed my lips, watching as his eyes stayed trained on the lights flickering off in the distance of Los Angeles, entranced in his own mind.

Then an idea sparked. “Oh! I know!” I set my book down, and stood up. He looked at me, finally. “Stay there! I know what you need!”

He quirked an eyebrow and took another swig from his bottle. I ran inside, grabbing the grocery bag inside my work tote, the goodies still untouched from my way home. When I came back out, I reached in the bag, pulling out the yellow package.

“Catch.” I chucked it at him, which he caught one handed. He scanned the bag, and smiled.

“All pink and red Starburst.” He looked back up at me. “You know what I needed.”

I smirked, pulling my other candy out of the bag, Sweettart Ropes, and began munching. He popped the bag of his own candy open and began unwrapping the tiny cubes.

“Now do you want to talk about it?”

Looking down at the wrapper balled up in his hand, he sighed hard, chewing the soft candy.

“We met with our label today.” His beanie from earlier was still on his head, perfectly placed. “They want us to join a tour.”

I chewed my ropes, speaking around the candy in my mouth. “And that’s bad? I thought that was part of being a band? Isn’t that how you make good money?”

He nodded, drinking more of his beer. “It can be, but I’m nervous. And they’re pressuring us.”

“What do you have to be nervous for? You’re super talented.”

He looked over, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “When have you ever heard our music?”

I scoffed. “Every Sunday morning through the paper thin walls.”

This made him laugh, which was a nice sound in comparison to his previously somber tone.

“I just recently started working on my vocals. Our early stuff was mostly all screaming. This last album has singing, though. I don’t feel ready to perform that live.”

I nodded. “Well, you practice, I know that.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that simple. I’ve got to know I can do it. I can’t second guess myself or I fuck up. I know it.” He sighed hard, setting the candy and beer on his table, and pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes.

“Mm,” I swallowed my candy. “is it a crowd thing?”

“I’m not really sure.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “I feel like it’s a being put on the spot, thing? I don’t know.”

I mulled this around. “I see.” I played with the idea in my brain before speaking. “So sing to me.”

His eyes shot up. “What?”

“Sing to me, Noah. Right here, right now.”

“The fuck? I can’t just do that.” He looked bewildered.

“Why not? It’s about being put on the spot. So sing to me.”

Noah stared at me as if I was insane. “What do I even sing? I don’t know any Taylor Swift songs.”

I scrunched my nose up at that. “Gross. No thank you.” He chuckled at that. “Sing me something of yours.”

He shook his head. “You won’t like our music.”

“Sure I do! I know you sing one about lions? Sing me that one!”

He all out laughed then. “The one about lions? Are you kidding?!”

I joined in on his laughter. “It’s the only one I remember.”

He groaned. “You’re serious?”

I sat back in my chair, chewing my candy, silently making it clear I was dead serious. He rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Hang on.” He disappeared inside. I took a large gulp of my wine, and waited.

He returned a few minutes later with his acoustic guitar, the one he usually had in the mornings. He also had taken off his beanie and sweatshirt, his tattooed arms and freshly cut hair on display. Were his arms always so muscular? No, he had definitely been working out.

“Alright, I’ll play you the one about lions, but please don’t laugh if I go off-key?”

I leaned forward, glass in hand, giving him my full attention. “Never.”

He sighed, and strummed the opening riffs of the song. It was slower, and sadder than when I had heard him practice it.

“You set me up as a villain, but you never mentioned the root of the problem. Took what you wanted and flipped it, but you won’t be dragging my name to the bottom.”

Noah’s voice was melodic, perfectly on key.

“So much unsaid. Left me for dead. I won’t forget.”

The song sounded more powerful in this style.

“Well everyone’s listening. And they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses.”

His fingers stopped strumming for a beat.

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said, but I’m going to make you wish you did.”

I smiled at the chorus, now remembering why I remember the lions.

“Jump to conclusions, they fall for illusions, but you weren’t there trying to stop them. You’re going low at the end of the road, but that won’t be the path that I follow.”

I finished my wine, setting the glass down and intertwining my fingers.

“So much unsaid, left me for dead. I won’t forget.”

He stopped strumming again, and I noticed he had his eyes closed. He hadn’t opened them once.

“Well everyone’s listening. And they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses.”

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. But I’m going to make you wish you did.”

The chord progression changed leading into the bridge.

“I’m holding on to this until the scale’s untilted.”

He stopped, his pitch rising.

“Well everyone’s listening, and they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses, but you’re pushing my limits.”

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. Oh-whoa.”

I leaned back in my chair, thoroughly enjoying this private show I was receiving.

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should now I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. Oh God, I’ll make you wish you did.”

He strummed the final chord and opened his eyes. I was smiling from ear to ear. I clapped my hands together, which made him blush.

“Oh stop.” He set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair and grabbing his beer.

“That was fantastic, Noah!”

He shook his head. “It was okay. I wasn’t on key the entire second chorus.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you always this hard on yourself?”

He smirked. “Always.”

“Please tell me that song is called Lions.”

This made him genuinely laugh. He shook his head. “It’s called Limits.”

“Mm, close enough.” He smirked at me.

“You really liked it?”

I nodded in response. “I did. It was really beautiful.”

His eyebrow raised and his thumb traced the rim of the beer bottle.

“You’re really beautiful.”

My stomach dropped clean out of my body, and my expression stilled. He didn’t waver, however, staring at me with a stern expression.

“Thank you.” Was all I could manage to say.

He nodded in acknowledgement, throwing back the bottle and tossing it into the trash can next to his table.

“Well, it’s past my bedtime. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I smiled. “Bright and early.”

He grinned back. “Goodnight, Angel.”

“Goodnight, Noah.”

-

I tossed and turned in bed, sleep being the farthest thing from me. I had to get some rest, as I had to be up in less than eight hours, but even the wine hadn’t been able to wash the day off of me.

To be honest, the melody of the song kept ringing through my brain, the image of Noah strumming his guitar flashing past my eyelids.

His arms are so big. He’s actually kind of…buff? He didn’t look like that when he moved in. As much as I loved his long hair, the short hair was so fitting on him, falling loose by his ears.

Before I could stop myself, my hand was snaking down into the waistband of my shorts, fingers ghosting over the top of my clit. An orgasm should help me sleep, right?

As much as I know my rose would make quick work of this, the idea of having another vibrating object in my hand made my wrists ache. I opted to just take my time, fingers circling my sweet spot, and let myself indulge in the idea of my hot neighbor, fingers running over the string of the guitar. Arms flexing when he moved his hand up and down the neck. Throat constricting as the lyrics flowed out of his plump lips.

I could feel myself getting into the idea, my body sinking comfortably into the mattress. Lips parting, I pictured him on the other side of the walls. What did he look like shirtless? Was his chest as muscular as his arms? Did his tattoos spread all the way to his chest?

My fingers applied more pressure, making me squirm, and a soft breath left my lips. I wanted to be quiet, but I was alone. Did it matter?

Noah is likely sleeping, so I doubted that he would be able to hear anything.

I let a moan escape, letting one finger dip between my lips and feel how the moisture had built up at the thought of him. My pussy ached at the idea of his hands, long fingers pressing into me. I would bet he could hit my sweet spot with the first knuckle. I gasped hard, my hips bucking at the thought.

“Oh fuck.” I groaned, my mind drifting even further.

If his fingers were that long, how long was the rest of him? Did his cock size up to his gargantuan stature? What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Would it stretch? Likely, given I hadn’t been intimate with anyone for at least eight months. Would riding him be possible?

“Mmm,” I licked my lips at the image. “God, Noah.”

His name slipped out, and for a split second, I almost blushed, until I remembered it was just me.

That is, until I hard my phone chime on my nightstand.

I groaned, stilling my hand and growling. I was so close, and now it was gone. I snatched my phone, but my body froze when I saw the text on my screen.

Noah: Having fun over there, sweetheart?

My brain melted, completely mortified. Why was he awake?! He went to bed an hour ago!

I couldn’t respond, wishing I could sink into a hole in the mattress and disappear.

His type bubble appeared, and my heart rate sped up.

Noah: You’ve been at it a little while. Sounds like you may need a hand?

What do I even say to that? Am I okay with that? The heat between my legs screamed at me, telling me to take him up on his offer, but my brain put the brakes on.

We are neighbors. Did I want to change that dynamic? Did I want to tempt the fates?

I’m not, and have not been, in a place where I wanted to be in any kind of relationship/situationship/friends with benefits agreement right now. What did inviting him over mean?

Or was it that deep? Did I need to think about it that hard?

Me: Back door’s unlocked.

My finger hovered over the send button for a good 30 seconds before finally getting the nerve to press send. Once I had, I practically threw my phone across the room in hysteria.

What had I done?

After a moment, I heard a sound of a mattress creaking and shifting, and the sound of his sliding door.

Holy fuck.

My room was pitch black, so the light trailing in to the room from the moonlight was disrupted when his tall silhouette appeared. The door slid open smoothly, and he stepped in.

Instinctively, I reached over and tapped on the lamp on my bedside table, propping myself up on my elbows.

There he stood, hair just slightly messy from his pillow, shorts hanging low on his hips, and no tshirt.

Well, that answers my question. His chest and abdomen were covered in colorful, beautiful tattoos. Behind them, his muscles were chiseled and tight.

“You good, angel?”

He stood, and leaned his back against the wall, arms behind his back.

I guess my expression had been confusing, so I shook my head.

“Yeah, just a little embarrassed.”

This made him smile. “You shouldn’t be.”

“No? How much did you hear?”

With this, he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps to the bed, sinking down on the edge next to my leg.

“Oh, not too much.” His hand reached out and his palm ran over my duvet. “Just you moaning my name.”

His eyes flicked up at me from under his lashes.

That was it. I was dead. My face turned a deep crimson and I threw my head back, pulling the pillow over it, praying it would just suffocate me.

This made him chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s humiliating!”

He snorted. “I find it extremely flattering.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” My words were muffled by the pillow.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come over.”

I pulled the cover from my face and scoffed. “Oh sure.” I put my hand up to my ear to mimic a telephone. “Hey Noah! I know we’ve never had any kind of sexual contact - ever - but would you by chance come by and help me get off so I can get some sleep, since I can’t seem to quit thinking about you?”

“Sounds good to me, I don’t see the problem.” His smile was so mischievous. I couldn’t help but sheepishly grin.

“Noah-“

He cut me off. “How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

My mouth hung open. “This is the first time…”

He nodded, his hand sliding along the blanket and closer to my leg underneath.

“What changed?”

I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve lived next door for six months. Why are you attracted to me now, all of a sudden?”

“I’ve always found you attractive.”

He smirked, his hand slipping up over my calf, applying a small pressure. My skin tingled.

“Then the feeling is mutual.” He sighed, looking up at me. “But tonight was different?”

“I just…” I shrugged, rolling onto my side, which pushed my body closer to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you singing. Playing the guitar.”

His hand moved up, sliding to my hip and resting there. “Ah, okay. So I serenaded you, and you couldn’t resist?”

This made me giggle. “Gosh, you’re such a dork.”

He snickered, scooting himself closer to me. “Mm, maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that you were thinking about me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Suddenly, the air was thick, and he was leaning closer to me. I leaned my head back, giving him full view of my face. When he was close enough that I could feel his breath brushing across my lips, his eyes searched mine.

“This can just be a one-night thing if you want?”

I bit my bottom lip, and nodded gently.

I felt the skin of his lips press into me as my eyes closed, and I molded, form-fitting to him easily. He shifted, his body laying sideways next to me. Noah’s hand reached up and grasped the side of my face, pulling my body in closer to him.

I couldn’t feel or hear anything but the sound of his soft breathing against me, and the pressure of his hips pressing directly against mine.

His hand fell from my face and grabbed my leg by the back of the knee, hiking my leg up to hook on his hip, pulling my body into him even further. The press of his erection behind his shorts provided the sweetest friction against my pussy, still clothed by my shorts.

He groaned into my mouth, and I bucked my hips against him, begging for more contact.

Making out with Noah was more fun than I had imagined. He licked at my tongue, and I tasted the mint toothpaste he had used right before bed. His lips made the most delicious sounds when they sucked and pulled on mine, it had my head twirling in so many different directions.

All of my fantasies were replaying in my brain. His hands, his arms, his chest. My hands began wandering down his body, feeling every last ridge of muscle he had. I felt the ripple of his skin when he flexed, his body so warm and inviting.

He pulled his lips off of mine to look down at me, eyes dark and full of what had to be desire.

“What do you want me to do?”

What kind of question was that? Wasn’t it obvious?

“What?” I felt as though I was missing some hidden meaning.

He shifted, his body now looming over me, and I laid back flat on the bed so I could look directly at him.

“What…” He leaned down to kiss my lips. “do…” Kiss to my jaw. “you…” Kiss to my throat. “want me…” Kiss on my collarbone. “to do?”

I was panting, my need to feel him against my skin causing a hot burn everywhere I couldn’t.

“I, uh” His lips were attached to my neck, nipping and sucking on the skin of the tattoo etched there. “I don’t know. I just need to feel you.”

He pulled back, eyebrow raised, and smirked.

“Well,” He huffed a breath, running a finger down the skin of my chest above the tank top I wore. “I could pull this off of you.” His hand palmed over my breasts, his thumb tracing around my hard nipple. “Suck on these until you’re begging me for more.”

His eyes glanced up at me, and I just stared at him, eyes blown wide, trying to beg with my stare.

“Or…” His hand lifted off of my chest, and swiftly reached down, grabbing hold of the waistband of my shorts. “I could bury myself between those thighs,” My legs shook at the thought. “and lick you until you’re begging me to stop?”

My hand tightened on his sides, my hips pressing up toward him.

He leaned down again, licking a stripe up my throat. “Then, when you’re a hot, shaking, whining mess, I could fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

I moaned, his hand slipping down to tangle in the small patch of hair I had above on my pubic bone. “How’s that sound, baby girl?”

“So fucking good.” I felt his lips smile against my throat.

“You’ve made it easy for me. You’re not even wearing panties.”

I huffed out a small laugh, letting my eyes fall closed. “Yeah, well maybe I was hoping this would happen.”

“Is that right?” His kisses were moving down my body, his hand pulling my breasts free from my shirt. “Knowing you were over here thinking of me had me so fucking hard, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea.”

Noah’s tongue began circling around my left nipple while his hand massaged the other, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

He only focused on my chest for a moment before moving downward, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down my stomach, leaving a particularly hard one on my hipbone.

“So fucking sexy, angel. I won’t lie, I’ve thought about you before.” His fingers pulled my shorts down and off with no hesitation, his body settling between my legs.

“I’ve touched myself, dreaming about this gorgeous fucking pussy.” Noah placed a soft, gentle kiss on my inner thigh. “I can see how wet you are from thinking about me, baby. I hope you’re fucking ready.”

I didn’t have time to question what that meant, as his lips were now attached to my clit, the tip of his tongue circling it expertly while his lips sucked hard. My back arched off of the bed, the sensation nearly knocking me sideways.

“Fuck!” I screamed out, hand burying itself in his dark brunette hair. “Oh my God, Noah.”

“That’s it, gorgeous,” He licked at me, lapping up the fluid pooling between my lips. “fuck my face, pretty girl.”

My hips rutted forward, pressing myself into his lips harder. His arms circled my thighs, locking me into place while his mouth absolutely ravaged me at my core.

My entire body was vibrating, my eyes locked on his beautiful face, eyes closed and so focused.

I could feel myself beginning to crest on the edge of my orgasm, and his name came out as a string of prayers off my lips.

“Ugh, Noah…Noah…Noah…”

Without warning, he lifted me hips off of the bed, bringing himself to kneel on the mattress, so only my upper back and head were left on the pillows. The angle brought an entire new level of sensation. His tongue assaulted my clit, flipping back and forth from kitten licks to long, flat strokes, making me dizzier with each repetition.

“Noah, I’m going to come.” I breathed out, and his eyes opened, looking directly at me. His head began to move back and forth ever so slightly, him now locked onto my sweet spot. The ministrations sent me so far over the edge, I felt as though my entire body was floating.

“Oh fuck! Noah! Jesus fuck!”

He didn’t stop, however. Although he was licking me carefully through my climax, he didn’t show signs of slowing down…

“It’s sensitive. Please, I can’t take anymore.”

He disconnected from me for a second to smile deviously. “Sure you can.” And he continued.

“No, please, it’s too much.” I could feel tears welling in my eyes.

He pulled off of me, laying me back down, with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. “The safe word is lions. Use it if you need it.” And he was back to it, making my vision go white.

“Noah, oh God, I can’t handle it, please!”

“You can, and you will.” His voice was factual, leaving no room for argument.

Just as I was about to protest again, I felt his tongue stop, and a sinfully long finger pressed into me, bringing about an entirely new sensation.

“Jesus Christ.” I was struggling to breathe.

“That’s it, baby. You’re so good, taking it all the way in. You’re so fucking perfect.”

My walls tightened around him at his words.

“It’s so fucking tight, baby. I’m almost worried it’s going to hurt when I fuck my name out of your mouth…” He looked up again, pressing a second finger in, a burning sensation pulsing through me. “…almost.”

My chest heaved, my breathing erratic and unstable. It was too good. It hurt so perfectly. His hand began pumping in and out of my body, causing loud, wet sounds.

“Going to make a mess, baby? I’d hope you’d wait until you were in my bed for that.” I couldn’t feel anything but his fingers inside me, driving me to insanity. “Thats alright, I’ll clean up. Go ahead and let go, honey. Come for me.”

An ear splitting screech ripped out of me, my body being rocked by another hard orgasm. His hand slowed, his fingers slipping out eventually.

“So fucking pretty. You got me all wet, I can’t tell you how fucking hot that was.”

I laid, eyes closed, working to bring myself back down to Earth. I wasn’t given much of a chance before I felt his tongue lapping at me again, making me squeal and jerk away from him.

“Nope.” His hands pulled me back to him. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The tears in my eyes were running. “Noah, please. Please!”

“I haven’t heard the safe word.” His face was buried in my folds, tongue pressing inside me. “You can do it baby, just one more, okay? I need one more.”

My head fell back on the pillows, savoring the soft, slow swipes of his tongue against me. It was almost…relaxing? He wa easing me through it, building me back up.

“Okay baby, you ready for another?”

I didn’t dare look at him, only nodded my head.

His fingers slipped back in, curling at the spot that makes my toes curl, and latched onto me again, his lips sucking hard on my clit.

This orgasm came quicker, washing over me like ocean waves hitting high tide. This time, I only managed to sigh hard when it hit me, feeling so wonderfully exhausted.

“That’s my girl. Perfect.”

I felt him lift up, but I still couldn’t make eye contact. My eyes were so heavy, and I couldn’t even fathom movement.

The bed dipped down next to me, and I cracked my lids to see him smiling. He reached down and kissed my cheek lovingly.

“Still there, Angel?”

I smiled a sleepy grin, and nodded. “That was…” There were no words. They didn’t exist.

“I’m glad you enjoyed.” I felt the blanket being pulled over me, and I opened my eyes in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

He chuckled lightly. “You need to get some sleep, beautiful. I know I talked a big game, but you’re exhausted. That was the goal.” He smoothed a hand over my stomach. “Help you get some rest.”

I rolled on my side, pouting slightly. “What about you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be just fine.”

His hand reached over and switched the light off on the nightstand. He moved to stand up, by my arm came out to grab his. He turned his head and looked at me.

“Could you…” I cleared my throat. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Even though it’s just one night?”

I smirked, lifting the blanket for him to crawl under. With his own grin, he did so, lifting his arm so I could tuck in, head laid on his chest and arm falling over his stomach.

“Maybe it's more than just one night.”

[princessmaybank]

Hearts At War : Part 1

Pairings: Dark!Rude!JJ x Kook!Fem!Reader, Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol, Weed, etc.

Summary: Sarah drags you to a kegger, where you see your old pal JJ.

Author's Note: My first series!!!

"Of course I'm sure! They'll love you!" Sarah exclaimed. She was dragging me to a kegger held by her pogue friends. I only knew a handful of pogues and they were all rude to me when I tried my hardest to be nice. Going into this I told her it's not a good idea but you can't really argue with Sarah Cameron.

We finally reached the boneyard and it was packed. I saw a bunch of people I knew. Friends would try to stop me to talk but Sarah kept pulling me until we reached a fire pit. I only knew one person at that fire.

"C'mon Sarah why'd you bring her?!" The hard-headed boy with blonde tousled hair complained. That was JJ Maybank, my sworn enemy since 5th grade when he pushed me on the playground. JJ has made every moment we spent together a living nightmare from then on. He was a little asshole then and an even bigger one now. "Get the fuck over it JJ! She's a nice girl!" Sarah stood up for me before introducing me to John B, Kie, Cleo, and Pope. None of them had a problem with me, we even had some great conversations so far, but the entire time someone kept quiet while their eyes dug into my soul.

"I'm gonna grab another drink." I whisper to Sarah before standing. "Oh no...leaving us so soon?" JJ's face and tone was covered in fake sadness. He pretended to pout when I stood. "Don't you worry Maybank, I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too much." I give him a fake smile and head to the keg to grab another beer. When I get there I notice the operator was even more intoxicated than most of the people here. I tried to pour it myself but he fought with me until he accidentally sprayed me with the booze. I had no choice but to walk back to Sarah and her friends. Hopefully someone had a spare shirt or something.

When I got back everyone looked at me concerned while JJ cackled at my appearance. "You're supposed to put the drink in your mouth." He continued laughing. At this point I was extremely annoyed and snapped. "You would know about shoving things in your mouth wouldn't you?" I practically shut him up and caused everyone around us to laugh. Sarah turned to me and asked what happened. Of course I explained what happened to everyone and they felt bad. I got a bunch of 'sorry's' and 'i don't have a spare shirt' comments. "Hey I think there might be a shirt in the Twinkie." John B announced. "Why would a shirt be in a dessert?" I asked confused and everyone laughed at me. "That's what he calls his van." Kie giggled. "Oh, well if you're okay with it-" I was cut off. "Wait- that's my shirt in there. Hell no!" JJ protested. "It's the property of the Twinkie now." Pope shrugs causing everyone to let out a small laugh. JJ looked like he was going to argue some more so I stopped him in his tracks. "I don't want your damn shirt Maybank. I'd rather reek of alcohol for the rest of my life." My eyes rolled as I crossed my arms. I meant what I said, I don't need his shirt.

I needed to get away from them for a little bit, so I went through the crowd and mingled with a few guys. Every one of them even more boring than the last. Even when I did find someone I was interested in, I got shot down. I wanna blame it on my alcohol stained clothes but I'm not sure. When I started walking back to the fire pit, I heard the most annoying voice call out to me. "Striking out?" JJ chuckled as he took a hit from his joint. He was leaned up against a tree, really trying his best to look like a bad boy. "You're stalking me now Maybank? Don't know if I should be scared or flattered." I cross my arms and give attitude. He rolls his eyes and takes another hit. "Oh shut up, why would I stalk you of all people?" He questioned. "You tell me. Why did you know I was 'striking out'?" I say with air quotes. "Oh you were? Lucky fuckin' guess." JJ took another hit then blew his smoke in my face.

"You're such a fucking dickhead!" I huff. JJ simply smiles at me. His fingers slowly brought the joint to his lips and before he could inhale, I stole it from his hand. It met my lips before he could complain and I walked away.

I found myself back at that fire pit where Sarah was now sitting on John B's lap with her tongue down his throat. Pope and Cleo were talking so I turned to Kie. "What is his problem?" I ask her while staring at the blonde who is currently shotgunning a beer with another Pogue. "Honestly? You. I don't know what you did to the boy, but he hates your guts. Always has." Kie spoke as she took the joint from my fingers.

"I didn't do anything. He's been a little dickhead for years and it just keeps getting worse." I say resting my elbows on my knees. "Maybe you should ask him why he acts like that." Kie shrugs. "He would rather spit in my face and toss me in the ocean." She laughed which caused my own to creep up on me. I look back over to the blonde who was already looking at me.

That's weird...

I could've sworn I just saw JJ Maybank staring at me..

[ghostgirl-22]

Spinning while falling down

18+ !NSFW!

Kinktober Day 2: Blow job

———————————————————-

If Art is honest with himself (and who needs that?) he’s more into this than he’s ever gonna let Patrick know. It’s 2 am Saturday night. They just finished watching some B rated horror film on the sci fi channel; they're both high, maybe Art’s a little more high than Patrick is, and he’s lying in Patricks bed (again). In between his thighs (again), kissing, licking, sucking, rubbing. Listening to the sound of Patrick moaning. Rubbing himself off simultaneously against the mattress as Patrick says nonsense words. Like “good boy”, “you’re so fucking good”, “I dont think I ever wanna let you go.”

Art barely hears it over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears… in his dick. He’ll probably come first. Come from blowing Patrick, like he always does. Patrick loves it. It makes all of Arts defenses sound weak, like whenever Art says he’s not really in the mood. Or when he acts like he doesn’t really like it as much as Patrick does. Patrick just smirks and says “okay, then let's just watch a movie for real this time.” And Patrick digs into his illegal (to Mark Reballato anyway) stash and they take turns smoking a joint or they finish a six pack. Patrick knows, he knows if Art gets drunk enough, or high enough they usually end up making out (practice kissing…you know… for girls) and the feeling of it makes Art’s mouth water. And next thing you know they're doing something like this.

Patrick pulls his hair and Art hums, his mouth is so full, so fucking full. His body is betraying him. He’s grinding harder against the bed. Filling his mouth as much as he can and it’s not easy… there’s so much of Patrick and Art loves it… if he’s being honest... which, of course, he’s not going to do.

Patrick’s playing in his hair, calling him baby, moaning his name. Art’s panting around it now and Patrick starts thrusting in and out, Art has to grab hold to keep from choking on it and suddenly he’s shivering, his orgasm spreading slowly at first… and then all at once he’s breathlessly coming in his boxers, against Patrick’s mattress.

He barely gets the chance to breathe before his mouth is filling up with spurts of warm sticky liquid. He coughs but only a little bit spills from his mouth onto Patrick’s thighs and he licks his lips as Patrick sits back against the headboard. Art is breathless, shivering and Patrick’s looking at him all soft while trying to steady his own breathing.

Art bites his lip and gets to his knees, suddenly feeling hot all over. “I’m a mess, I’m gonna…” he gestures vaguely

Patrick shrugs, grinning, always grinning like he knows so much that Art doesn’t know. “Sure but for the record I think you look so fucking pretty just like that.”

”Shut up,” Art mumbles, climbing out of the bed.

Patrick doesn’t have to say anything else his smirk says it all.

Art cleans up, in the bathroom, and when he’s had a chance to recover from whatever this is… he comes back to find Patrick as nonchalant as ever… smoking another joint, the window cracked and the tv back on with the volume low.

Art gets in his own bed and Patrick looks at him. “Really?”

“What?”

”Isn’t that the game supposed to be if you can blame it on a substance you sleep in my bed?” Patrick says.

Art feels himself heating up again, Patrick just says whatever he’s thinking (whatever’s true) like it doesn’t matter. “That’s not… I have a game tomorrow and I only got high to calm my nerves.”

“Okay Donaldson, whatever you say.”

“Okay,” Art says, he takes a deep breath to relax. “Besides,” he smiles at Patrick, “if I play well, maybe Dana will notice me.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows, his expression flitting momentarily to something melancholy that Art might have missed if he blinked— but as quickly as it appears it’s gone and he’s back to just smirking at Art with his trademarked amused boredom. “Oh sure, you get her attention and I’ll actually have to start playing the lottery.” He says jokingly as he puts the joint out. “Good night,” He turns off the light.

“Good night,” Art says and he presses his lips together as Patrick turns off the television.

If he’s being honest with himself he’d probably do this all differently but it’s just Patrick, and whatever this is he can fix it tomorrow.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Can I get sunflower for Frank, reader gives Frank a massage?

Frank Castle was one stubborn bastard. You were starting to think he might be playing it up, giving you an ulcer just for the hell of it. Usually, you’d force him to sit the fuck down and shut his big mouth until you’d treated whatever ailment he refused to admit to. But you’d had a long week, and Frank had been monumentally grouchy the past few days, brushing off all of your questions and refusing to obey your commands–so it hadn’t quite happened that way. 

Instead, the bastard kept groaning when he thought you weren’t listening; releasing this barely audible rumble from the back of his throat, a cross between a hiss and a growl, while he rolled his right shoulder three times. Always three times. 

About a week ago, Frank had disappeared for two days–returning with blood-covered clothes, an obviously strained muscle, and a contagiously bad attitude. Since then, he’d been favoring that same shoulder, and driving you crazy while doing it. 

Currently, you were sitting on the couch, curled beneath a blanket while you did sudoku puzzles in a well-worn booklet. Frank was seated in an armchair across the room, clearly annoyed that you had been cold to him today, yet unwilling to go back to his own place. Ridiculous man. The TV buzzed quietly, the dialogue of some single camera sitcom rasping through the speakers. It was calming..but not enough to cover the aggravating noise Frank made when he raised his arm to stretch it again. 

“Alright, that’s it!” You snapped, tossing your book to the edge of the couch and lurching toward him, accusing finger outstretched. “You have two options, Frank. You can let me see what the fuck is going on with your shoulder, or you can get out of my goddamn apartment so I don’t have to listen to you moan about it. What’s it gonna be?”

Frank’s dark eyes widened, his mouth falling agape at your icy tone. His arm was frozen an inch from his head, slightly bent so he could roll the irritated joint. Scoffing as you crossed your arms expectantly, Frank scowled at you. 

“I’m–”

You squawked out a laugh. “Don’t you fucking start.” Rounding the armchair and taking the hand attached to his good arm, you yanked him toward the couch. “The decision has been made for you, tough guy. Shirt off. Get your ass over here.” 

“You ain’t givin’ me a say anymore?” He snorted, tugging his shirt off with one hand as he trailing after you–finally finally letting you force him onto his stomach on the couch. 

“Nope! Honestly, you should’ve lost that right three ‘I’m fines’ ago.” Kneeling before his torso, you gently placed your hands around his bicep, straightening his bulky limb so you could take a proper look. As you pulled at his arm, Frank grimaced, drawing a breath through his teeth. “Sorry, Frankie.”

He gave a shrug with his other shoulder, eyes drifting down as you worked. Your fingertips brushed over his tan skin, admiring the faint splash of freckles dotting his skin. “No bruising, that’s good. Does it hurt if I put pressure on it?”

As you asked, you let the pads of your fingers dive into his skin with a touch more force, ready to withdraw if it caused him pain. Thankfully, he shook his head. “Nah, feels nice.” 

“Probably a strained muscle then. I’ll grab you an ice pack in a second, I have something else I want to try first.” 

“What’s that?” Frank asked, slowly peeling himself off the cushions and into a seated position as you bustled about the apartment. 

“I’m not telling you, because you’d fight me.” You called from the bedroom, between the clatter of you looking through drawers for some unknown item. 

Staring at your ceiling with a knowing smirk, Frank shook his head noiselessly, fighting the urge to mess with his sore muscle. Rolling his head from side to side, he mustered all the patience he had in his body, lingering on the couch until you returned…with a bottle of lotion?

With a smug grin, you slid behind him, slipping your leg into the curve of his waist bordering the back of the couch. Lotion squelched through the pump and into your hand as you wriggled your way around Frank, tilting him forward slightly. “If it starts to hurt, tell me and I’ll stop. But you’re getting a massage, Castle.”

Before he could protest, cool hands dug into his aching shoulder, drawing a relieved moan from his lips as they worked at the giant knot beneath his skin. He could practically hear your self-satisfied smile. “Yah, feels nice, doesn’t it? Could’ve done this for you days ago if you’d admitted to the pain, tough guy.” 

“Didn’t hurt then.” He retorted, lips twitching with amusement when you huffed in annoyance. In retaliation, you kneaded at the junction of his neck and shoulder, humming pridefully when his chin dropped to his chest with relief. 

The motions were soothing, repetitive. Your warm fingers circling the various points of tension along the corner of his upper back, slowly unraveling them with short, sharp movements. His body was becoming more pliable by the minute, melting into your lap as you lovingly rubbed at his injured arm. Once he was fully slumped against you, eyes closed and breaths heavy, you set the lotion aside, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

“Feeling better?” You murmured, brushing your nose over the shell of his ear. 

“If that helps ya sleep at night,” Frank teased, unable to hide the immense gratitude from his voice. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Anytime, love.” Planting a gentle kiss on his left shoulder, you resumed carding through his hair, leaning back against the arm of the couch with Frank supported by your torso.

[ddejavvu]

stepbrothercollege!Hotch sneaking back home every once in a while to come visit his favorite stepsis to make sure he’s still her favorite and not any of the gross high school boys

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni. (cw: stepcest; don't like, don't read).

You're not expecting Aaron back because your mom hadn't announced his return. Money comes out of her joint account with Aaron's dad to pay for everything, his gas money, his plane tickets, so if he was returning by either mode of transportation, they'd have gleefully announced their less-full bank balance.

Apparently, he'd used his own cash to buy a train ticket, though. You're three minutes from finishing the tail end of a movie, one you hadn't been paying full attention to. You'd run out of things to watch, but picking something at random from netflix's library only yielded boredom. Still, you're going to finish it out, or at least, you were, until a large hand hooked over your window sill from the outside, latching onto the wood to provide leverage.

You shriek, the sound straight out of a horror movie, while you consider you might be in one yourself. But the face that pops up through the window next is a familiar one, and you regret your outburst as you hear footsteps rush towards your bedroom.

"Honey?" It's your mom, probably in her nightgown and slippers, "Honey, what's the matter? Your- your door is locked," She jiggles the handle, and you're glad you're too paranoid to leave the door unlocked at night, "Let me in!"

You look back at Aaron who's waiting with one eyebrow raised for either a signal to run, or a signal to stay. You try fixing him with a reassuring grin, but it's probably shaky as your heart finally begins to slow, "Uh, nothing, mom. I saw a spider, that's all. But it was on the outside of the window, I'm okay."

She heaves a sigh, "Okay. I'm going back to sleep, honey."

"Keep it down," The gruff voice of Aaron's father follows after her, and you're not surprised the man is concerned more with the noise level of the house than your personal safety. Aaron's jaw tenses, the muscles in it tightening.

"Goodnight," You mutter tersely through the door, and Aaron's already begun lifting himself the rest of the way into your room. You let him grab your hand for leverage and you pull him onto your mattress, a sound that your mother will think is just you crawling back into bed after your spider scare.

"Hi," He murmurs with a lazy grin, keeping his voice low so that no one can hear him but you. He's instantly at home on your mattress, leaning back on his palms flat over your comforter.

"Hi," You breathe, equally dazed, "You're- you came back!"

"I did," He chuckles, an earring hooked through his right ear and glinting in the moonlight spilling through your window. His hair is longer now than when you'd seen him last, swooped loosely to one side of his face, "I heard some rumors from Eric, wanted to come back down and see you."

"Eric-?" You tilt your head neatly to one side at the mention of your coworker, and Aaron's old friend, "What did Eric say?"

"Just that some of the high school boys have been trying to get your attention," His lips tighten in another near-scowl, "High school boys are too confident."

"You used to be one," You laugh, reaching for his cheek and feeling a slight hint of stubble raised just over his skin, "Now I didn't know you then, but I have to assume you were just as overconfident as the idiots from the gas station are."

"I-" He chuckles, tilting his head into your hand, "I was never that bad, sweetheart, I was never stupid enough to think I could get with a college girl."

"Well I sent them packing," You promise, and he takes your hand off of his face only to squeeze it and lean in closer.

"Good," He hums, sharp, angled nose nearly prodding at your own skin, "I might have to beg my dad to pay for your transfer to my school if they don't get the message."

"I'm okay here," You promise, your voice a near-whisper with the hope that he'll finally close the gap and kiss you, "But I think you should keep coming to see me like this, Aaron."

"Yeah?" He inches impossibly closer, his breath warm over your lips, "You like it when I crawl through your window?"

"And get all protective of me," You confess, cheeks heating slightly at your admission, "What about you, Aaron? Any of the girls at law school caught your eye?"

"No, they're pretty boring," He muses, faking contemplation, "There's this one girl back home, though..."

"Oh, shut up," You gush, pressing your lips to his curving ones as he chooses to grin instead of make a move. You're fed up with his teasing, with having him inches apart and not having him at all, and you melt into the kiss that he reciprocates so quickly.

"I have to head back in a few hours," He laments, "It's a long train ride, and I have a class at 10."

"I have a class at 9," You nod solemnly, "But maybe this weekend I can take the train to visit you? I could just tell my mom I'm sleeping over with my friend."

"That sounds," He cuts himself off to press a firm kiss to your lips, "Perfect, sweetheart. Let's just-" Another kiss, "-enjoy the time we have now, and pretty soon we'll have the whole weekend to ourselves."

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 29

Word Count: 3.5K Warnings: bodily harm, self inflicted wounds, mentions of blood

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: um, I am so sorry for the trauma this chapter may cause 🫣 strap in, girlies. share it with everyone, if there is a chapter of this story you should read, it's this one

<- Previous | Next ->

Confusion overtook (Y/N) when she woke the next morning, the sun still hanging low in the horizon. The walls around her were foreign, the smells were overwhelming, the temperature was uncomfortable. She wasn’t home, and her body knew it.

She stretched the knots from her body, shaking off the sleep that had wound itself in her joints.  Yet, as much as she wanted to remain in the soft and warm bed, she knew the task at hand had to be done as soon as possible. She wanted it to be done as soon as possible.

The longer (Y/N) spent away from LaPush and Forks, the more her mind ruminated on her past. Images of her time with the Cullens bombarded her brain, reminding her of a life lived and lost. It made her heart ache and yearn—something she thought she had moved on from. It made her think of forgiveness, of reconciliation, of regression. She felt her judgment was held hostage and everything she had strived for was going down the drain.

Without giving it much thought, she got up from the bed and got ready, packing everything she brought back up. She wasn’t going to spend a second more in New York than she had to. Her goal was to get Carlisle back to Washington and then go home. That was her plan, and she would do nothing to stray from it.

Esme and Theo were already waiting when she came downstairs, talking in hushed tones until she was in their presence. Their conversation halted as she joined them, and they gifted her warm smiles.

“How’d you sleep?” Theo asked. “Haven’t slept in centuries, but those mattresses are great, huh.”

“Yeah, no, they’re amazing. Definitely not a mattress I could afford,” the girl commented, unsure as to why she had. “But, uh, we should get going. Got a long ride ahead of us.”

“Of course,” Esme smiled as she grabbed their bags. “You can eat your breakfast in the car, and just let us know if we need to make a stop.”

“Sure thing.”

“Let’s do this, then.”

The car ride went by faster than (Y/N) thought it would. Mostly because somewhere along the three-hour ride and the mindless conversation, she had drifted off to sleep. She couldn’t recall when her eyes had closed, but she awoke with a startle when the car rolled to a stop a couple of miles away from the parking lot of the Panama Rocks Scenic Park, deep enough in the forest. Her neck was tight, and her mouth felt dry, but once she saw the green and the grey mingling in an almost endless void, she knew her trip back home was closer than when the day had started.

The park was still closed to the public, and they needed to keep their presence hidden from any onlookers. There wasn’t a way to explain to people why three women were sneaking into the place, much less why Teo of them were glittering under the sun. Though they could have hidden better during the darkness of the night, (Y/N) didn’t have the supernatural ability to see well in the night, and flashlights would definitely give them away.

“Okay, I have a vague idea where Carlisle might be,” Theo said as she pulled a map of the area out. “If he wanted to be ironically poetic, he’d be in the caves in Devil’s Den, but that’s part of the more trafficked area, so I don’t think he would. To be as far away from civilization as he could here, I think he’d settle somewhere along the center—up sixty-foot rock formations.”

“Well, I don’t think my boots are good for a hike like that,” (Y/N) blurted. “It’s going to take me days to check everywhere, and I’m not good at climbing.”

“There is a way we could scavenge the area in maybe an hour or a bit more,” Esme added. “Theo and I can run through, pinpoint his location by his scent, and then carry you there. That way, you won’t have to overexert yourself, and we can get you home as soon as possible.”

“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“You’d stay with the car,” Theo said. “Be on the lookout for anyone that might come around. And if you have to, move the car away. We won’t take that long, I hope.”

“Great,” the girl muttered as she slumped onto the driver’s seat. “Guess I’ll just wait here, then.”

“You’ll be safer this way, (Y/N),” her friend offered. “The last thing you want is to be clinging onto me for dear life as we run and jump unnatural lengths. You need to save your strength for whatever is to come, okay?” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she smiled softly. “I’m being prissy for no reason.” 

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know. You’re literally going through a one-in-a-billion situation here, (Y/N). I honestly don’t know how you’re here, but you're still standing. You’re the best of us all.”

“I just can’t stand by while so many people keep hurting,” (Y/N) muttered. “Not anymore. There can’t be any more hate in my heart. I don’t like what it did to me.”

“There could never be anything that could ever dampen your light, (Y/N),” Theo said. “You are one of a kind, and everyone you meet knows it. Those who say they don’t are just lying.”

“Thank you, Theo,” she smiled as warmth spread through her cheeks. “Now, go. I’m not getting any younger here.”

“Lock the doors. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

The vampires disappeared from her sight in the blink of an eye, leaving her alone in the middle of the woods with nothing but the bags and the car to keep her company. She scrolled through the texts on her phone for a while, skipping through message after message of both Sam and Paul. They were begging her to come back home, apologizing for their outburst and their actions, pleading she at least give them a call back.

But she was angry. Not just at them, but at the entire situation. (Y/N) could understand their reason for what they did—her logical mind would not allow her not to see their side of things. They had been tasked with the extraordinary job of protecting the people of LaPush from vampires, stopping anything they deemed a threat to the reservation. They didn’t have a rulebook or many directions on how to fulfill their duties, and they were doing what they thought was best with what little knowledge they had.

Yet, she couldn’t understand why they would think they had any right to meddle in her life and sever ties with people she loved. It was one thing to think that she could be in danger because of the scent of a vampire, but it was another for them to destroy letters from her friend even when she didn’t know the supernatural existed. In their minds, they were protecting her, but the truth was they were cutting her off from the world—from the one person that had made her feel seen in a sea of blue and grey. They had decided (Y/N) would become a nobody in Theo’s life, leaving her wondering for the rest of her life what she had done wrong.

There weren’t many people she had ever connected with in her life—not in a deep and meaningful way. Of course, she had grown up surrounded by people who had loved and cared for her, but she always felt like there was a role she had to fulfill. She had to be strong, she had to be calm, she had to be the smartest in the room, and she was each and every thing people expected because everyone did.

Well, Sam had always seen her as more than intelligent. He’d seen her as his little sister, the girl he had sworn silently to always protect. Even if somewhere along the way, his lines had blurred, and his protections had turned into rules and demands, he had always tried to keep her safe. He could have cared less about the accolades and the academics. Sam simply wanted her happy. At least, for some time, that was all he had cared about.

There had also been Paul, of course. He didn’t care how smart she was or what had happened in her past. He had just wanted a friend. When he had felt the loneliest after the move to LaPush, she had appeared like an answer to a prayer, tripping in front of him with a stack of books from the library that she was taking home. After that fateful day, he had become her shadow while he found his footing in the reservation. And when he gained popularity amongst their peers, he took her under his wing and protected her from anyone that attempted to harm her. Paul had cared enough to see past the surface that everyone admired and had been interested to learn about the girl past the books and the absent dad.

Once (Y/N) had left for Greenfield and was alone again, she didn’t think she’d find someone like him. Someone who wouldn’t care about what she could do but who she was. And then she had found Theo—or Theo had found her. She had changed the trajectory of the girl’s life, helping her down the path of academic excellence and confident living. After Theo, she believed there was nothing she couldn’t do. As long as she invested her time wisely and stopped listening to what others thought, she would be capable of anything.

And, of course, there had been Carlisle. The man who had been able to transform the very fibers of her essence. The man who had not only seen her soul but also her heart. He had shown her all the things she hadn’t known she desired; he made her believe in a life she thought she deserved. What happened at the end… well, the jury was still out on that.

Finally, after a long bout of darkness and pain, Eden had come along. He’d been distant at first, being short and cold with her. But the second the gears had changed, and he saw her truly, he had been a breath of fresh air she didn’t know she needed. Eden was kind and patient, wise beyond his years and understanding. Somehow, he had begun to make her excited to meet someone new. She saw potential in him. She saw possible l…

As she debated getting on the phone and calling him, Theo’s sudden apparition startled the phone out of her hands. “We’ve found him,” she exclaimed. “We’ve finally found him.”

(Y/N) hadn’t noticed that she had let her mind wander for close to two hours. She had fallen down a thought spiral she would not have come out of had it not been for Theodora. The girl jumped out of the car, shaking away the shivers that started running through her veins. This was it. After almost eight months without him, she was about to face Carlisle once more—to save him and bring him home. “How do we do this?” she asked her friend, her voice trembling slightly under her nerves. “Do I just…?”

“Get on my back, (Y/N),” Theo chuckled. “And grab on really tight.”

Running wasn’t an activity (Y/N) partook in very often. As much as she wanted to incorporate the training into her daily life, it was too time-consuming for her already packed schedule. Now, speeding through trees and rock formations while clinging to the back of a vampire at a hundred miles an hour was not what she envisioned for a light run. The cold air of the morning bit at her skin alongside the branches that tried to snag her. Theo did avoid getting her hurt, but just the feeling of leaves smacking against her face was enough to have the girl thinking she’d been wounded.

What had felt like hours to her, where she prayed silently that her strength was enough to keep herself on Theo, had only been a few minutes. The vampire came to a stop at a particularly odd boulder that stood at a little over sixty feet of height and over twenty feet of width from what she could tell. The rocks seemed to mold into each other, creating the illusion of various black holes forming into its sediment. Even in the light of day, it looked tenebrous. The last thing anyone would say of the area was inviting.

“He is not well,” Esme said as she joined them, jumping out from one of the caves. “Wouldn’t even respond to me. No matter what I said, he just stared at the wall. (Y/N)…”

“I know,” the girl sighed defeatedly. “I’m the only one that he will answer to. I can… I can do it.”

“I was going to say you should be careful,” she replied. “We will be just a few feet away, but he’s still stronger and faster than us. Keep your distance.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) muttered in surprise. “I will. Thank you, Esme.”

“Of course,” the woman smiled. “Just give a shout if you need us.”

“Will do.”

“Alright, then,” Theo said. “Back on.”

Theodora went a couple of yards back for a running start, kicking off the ground with a force (Y/N) had never witnessed. As they raised through the air, the girl’s fingers dug into her friend’s shirt, hiding her face in the crook of her neck to avoid looking down. They landed with a soft thud at the entrance of the cave, the heel of her boots echoing through the hollow space.

“Don’t get too close, okay?” Theo worried as she handed (Y/N) a flashlight. “Yell if you need us. And if you can’t, snap your fingers three times.”

“I thought Carlisle had unnatural resistance,” (Y/N) muttered, concern sinking into her veins. “Do you think he would really attack me?”

“He hasn’t fed correctly in far too long,” Esme sighed. “He has always been the strongest out of anyone I know, but paired with heartbreak… well, I just couldn’t tell you what he’s capable of.”

(Y/N) trembled at the thought of what awaited her. A voice in her head told her to turn around and say she wouldn’t help any longer. A voice warned her of the strength and unpredictability she could face. Yet, she couldn’t listen—not when her heart told her to keep moving her feet, one in front of the other. With shaky hands, she pointed the flashlight ahead of her, ignoring the smell of humidity and the cold eeriness that threatened to overtake her.

The girl knew Carlisle had not fed in some time. She also knew what vampires could look like after a prolonged time without blood. But nothing could prepare her from coming face to face with the shell of who her first love used to be.

Sitting against the cave’s walls, Carlisle stared into nothingness. His eyes were as black as coal, his cheekbones had sunken, and the bags under his eyes battled to take over the rest of his face. Long gone was the beautiful marble white of his skin, replaced instead with a putrid gray color. His hair had lost all life, flopping against his dampened skin in matted clumps. The man didn’t even care a drip had settled just above him, falling tauntingly on his head, over and over and over again.

Had (Y/N) not known if he was standing before her that he was alive, she would have been certain she was staring at a terrifying replica of Carlisle. He simply sat, unmoving, unblinking, unresponsive.

(Y/N) tried to speak, but the words seemed to get stuck in her mouth, tasting of bile and rancidness. They scratched the walls of her throat as though he had willed her not to mutter a single sound. Carlisle didn’t want to hear it. Carlisle couldn’t hear it.

But if one thing was clear to the girl, it was that he had to leave the cave. He needed to.

“C-Carlisle?” she managed to croak. His head snapped toward the sound of her voice, and she could have sworn that his neck had cracked like a dry hinge. His dark eyes bore into hers, analyzing the image in front of him. “It’s me, Carlisle. It’s (Y/N). I’ve come to take you home. ”

She wasn’t expecting a triumphant reunion. With all their unresolved feelings, she had prepared herself for a stern talk and flight back home. Instead, Carlisle had jumped from the place he seemed permanently planted in and sped toward her. His hand circled her throat as he pressed her against the cavern’s wall. The rock scratched at her skin through her shirt, and she had to stand on her tiptoes to keep him from being her only support.

“Is this where my delusions have driven me? You’re not real!” he laughed manically. “(Y/N) would never come to take me home. ME! After what I did to her, she would be more than happy to let me rot! I will say, brain, you were far more creative the last time.”

This wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. The crazed look in his eyes told her just how much he’d been suffering on his own, punishing himself for a situation he had not known how to handle. “Carlisle, it’s really me,” she muttered, straining against his hand. “Feel my heartbeat. I’m right here. I want to get you home.”

“I’ve felt and heard your heartbeat a million times. Do you really think you could fool me? ME?! AGAIN?! No. YOU CAN’T FOOL ME!” he continued. His eyes stared at her but could have been looking through her. Yet, something told her as strong as he wanted to appear, had he been human, tears would be streaming down his face. He wasn’t well. He wasn’t Carlisle. “Months and months of the same apparition. This is my way of the cross. I am cursed to live with the memory of the one person I regret ever breaking—the only person who will ever have my heart. You come, and you go; you hurt, and you save; you laugh, and you cry. And I can take it. I can take it all. But not this. Don’t talk about home. There is no home for me. For my home is only where I burnt my own heart to the ground. I torched the thread that held me together to my one reason for being. If God has ever forsaken me, it has been at this moment. If God had ever wanted to punish the abomination that I am, it is now. Don’t talk to me about home.”

Carlisle’s ramblings were nonsensical, but the threat around (Y/N)’s throat was very real. Without meaning to, the man cemented his every word by closing his hand just a little bit closer and closer. She tried to scratch at his arm, meeting the same hard skin she knew—unbreakable. “Car-li-sle,” she croaked. “Stop. It’s me.”

“STOP! SHE’S NOT HERE!” His anger rained upon her as he slammed a fist next to her, making shards of the cave scatter around them. “You’re not real. YOU’RE NOT REAL!”

He muttered the phrase over and over like a mantra as though he was trying to keep himself sane. But he had lost his sanity months before. He’d grown restless and delusional quickly, berating himself for everything he had and had not done. Carlisle blamed himself for the brokenness of his family, but most of all, he promised himself eternal damnation for letting go of (Y/N) in the most horrid way he could muster. He had not physically killed her, but he had done the second worst thing.  

A jagged piece of quartz grabbed (Y/N)’s attention then. It had landed perfectly at arm’s reach. She could feel her vision growing spotty from the lack of oxygen, but she couldn’t call the girls just yet—not until Carlisle had snapped back into reality.

She struggled against his grip slightly, reaching for the crystal, feeling its edge cut slightly into her palm. “If you don’t think I’m real, then you won’t care if I’m hurt,” she whispered. Carlisle watched with a look of concern as she raised the quartz to her wrist. “Come back, Carlisle. Come home.” 

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) ran the sharpest point of the quartz down her arm, flinching as blood pooled on her skin. Putting all trust in the vampires, the girl let the crystal fall to the ground and snapped her fingers three times. She mustered all the love and care she could in a simple gaze and stared into Carlisle’s black eyes as she raised her bloody hand onto his cheek and smiled.

Then, it all went black.

Next ->

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[simping4-2manyppl]

HIIIII I SAW YOUR POST ABOUT ASKING FOR REQUESTS AND HELP SO LMK ID U NEED ANY HELP AND ILL SEE IF I KNOW IT 😓😓😊😊 ALSO HERES A PLOT IF TOU WANNA WRITE ABOUT IT:

ok so it’s tom x fem reader and they’re on vacation with the band in hawaii on the beach, and tom and reader sneak away to smoke a joint (U DONT HAVE TO ADD THAT IF UR UNCOMFORTABLE BTW^^^) and find another side of the beach that had a lot of plants and hibiscus flowers so tom gives one and puts it in their hair then they get caught by one of the members and get teased. SORRY IF ITS KINDA BAD I HAD A BRAIN FART MID WAY BUT YEAHH JUST IF U WANNA WRITE IT I PUT IT OUT THERE JUST CASE😊😊 HAVE FUN WRITING AND HAVE A GOOD DAY OR NIGHT THANK YOU U IF U DO WRITE IT!😋❤️❤️❤️❤️

✮ Tom Kaulitz ✮

Flowers 🌺

Thats me right there btw!! AHH TYSM FOR THIS IDEA LITERALLY LOVE YOU SM!! ILL DEF DO MY BEST TO WRITE THIS GOOD!!

Warnings: smoking, teasing 😜 yk all that fun giggly stuff. There might be some bad spelling 😓

sorry if its bad, i tried my best, pls lmk if u liked it in the comments!

Tom Kaulitz x fem reader !!

When your friends invited you to go to Hawaii with them you immediately started packing all of your clothes. You were beyond excited to go since you have heard super nice things about Hawaii, you were especially excited to go to the beach.

You’ve heard how beautiful the ocean was and you couldn’t wait to go see it for yourself, not to mention you get to spend time with your best friends.

After about a week of being in Hawaii, they finally took you to the beach after begging and begging.

Bill was also pretty excited to go too, as you both have been talking about it ever since they invited you.

Once you got there you immediately took off your flip flops in the sand and walked closer to the water.

Feeling the cool water touch your feet made you shiver slightly, getting a bit cold.

You wore some shorts and a swim top since you were all going to go swimming but you didn’t expect the water to be a bit cold so you didnt bring a jacket. (Pretend its been rainy over there and not so hot.)

You jumped as you felt some arms wrap around you, “oh my god, you scared me!” You said as you turned around and saw tom, smiling.

He chuckled and pulled something out of his pocket, “wanna smoke this with me?” He said, with a grin on his face.

You looked around and saw the others talking, “Mm, sure.” You said grabbing his hand and walking around until you found a spot.

He lit it up and took a quick puff out of it before handing it to you, you grabbed it and put it up to your lips, taking a hit.

You blushed as his fingers would slightly graze yours while taking the joint from you as you both passed it back and fourth, until it was all finished.

“Hey, look at that flower!” You said, walking over to a small beautiful flower, that was all by its self.

Your eyes opened as your jaw dropped, seeing more than just one flower, there was multiple scattered all around.

Your eyes lit up as you saw all of the gorgeous hibiscus flowers and plants all around you.

You felt tom grab your chin, slowly moving your head to make eye contact with him as he moved some of your hair behind and placing a beautiful hibiscus flower behind your ear.

You face heated up quickly, as a bright shade of red spread across your face. A small smile appeared on toms face.

“A gorgeous flower for a gorgeous girl.” He said, winking at you, leaning in closer to your face.

Youve had a crush on tom for the longest time now and you were getting nervous, since you never expected him to go farther than just flirting with you.

You heard laughing from behind you, making you back away and turn around seeing everyone laughing at the both of you.

Now this time toms face turned red as they walked up to you both, “AWW TOM!” Bill said, teasing his twin, and laughing in his face.

“aww did we ruin your guy’s moment?” Gustav said, also laughing. “Poor tommy, he didnt get his kiss.” Georg said.

You blushed and turned away, embarrassed. “Be quiet, lets just go, i wanna swim.” Tom said, rolling his eyes.

“Arent you gonna kiss your gorgeous girl? Or are you gonna leave her waiting.” Bill said, raising his eyebrows up and down, smirking at him.

Tom was already far away, trying to ignore all the teasing that he was getting from his brother and friends.

“Cant hear you!” He said, walking away even faster, they all laughed at him, and you eventually let out a giggle or two.

The way his face turned into a shade of pink was adorable, although you wish they wouldnt have ruined the moment between you two but things happen.

you stared at him with a smile on your face, seeing how they tease him.

“Come on! Lets get in the water nowww!” Bill said walking over to the water.

You stayed behind and looked down at your feet, moving your toes in the warm sand.

arms wrapped around you, but this time you knew who it was, the scent was familiar. Making you smile to yourself.

“How come you keep coming up from behind me? Are you trying to scare me or something?” You said, laughing.

You heard him chuckle and turn you around to face him, “No, just really like hugging you from behind.” He said, smiling.

You laughed and smiled, as you held eye contact. He put his hand on your cheek placing his lips onto yours, you stood in shock, not knowing what to do, but just melted into the kiss.

He pulled away and had a big smile on his face, with a slight tint of pink of his cheeks.

“Race ya to the water!” He said running, “Hey! no fair! You got a head start!!” you said, yelling and pulling your shorts down quickly, running behind him into the water.

“Hey! Wait up!” You said going into the water, immediately splashing him. “Hey!” He said splashing you back.

I hope you guys liked it! Sorry if it was a bit rushed, i was just super excited!!

[faggotmox]

Well damn, now I want to see line cook Eddie in a dive dinner who’s crusty to everyone but who also adds extra food when he sees a messy skinny teen/young adult alone.

yeah i got this & wrote a little thing bc i love line cook eddie being a told bitch but also the best guy ever. so crusty diner au with eddie & mox under the cut, guest staring ruby. eddie kingston may have been an iron worker for real but he has the soul of a line cook baby.

"Eddie!" Ruby called out to the line cook standing half in the rain out the backdoor. "I'm off. You sure you're good to run the joint alone?"

"Yeah, yeah." Eddie stepped back into the diner without putting out his cigarette. "It's two twenty in the morning. I'll be fine until Willow gets here at 5." Ruby grimaced at the mention of one of her least favorite coworkers. To be honest, Ruby only really liked Eddie.

"I don't like leaving you here all to yourself. You might burn the place down." Ruby pulled her hood up.

"Nah. I'll just break the health codes. Go on, and get, kid. You've got classes tomorrow, huh?" Eddie gave her a look. "You always stall when you have classes tomorrow."

"Shut up. Gimme a hug before I leave?" Ruby walked through the kitchen to give the cook his nightly goodbye hug. "I locked the far door. Only one register is up. New coffee brewed, and your prep is done. Don't need a new pack or anything before I leave?"

"Stop." Eddie groaned, not about the hug but Ruby's constant need to help him out. "Go home, Ru. Get some rest. I'll text you when I'm off."

"Fine." Ruby stared him down for a moment before reaching into her backpack to pull out a fresh pack of cigarettes for Eddie anyways. "You're my big brother. I got to make sure you're taken care of too."

"Thanks, Ru." Eddie took the offered pack with a smile. He had been nearly out.

Most nights in their small crusty diner weren't busy. They catered to overnight workers, and all night college students. It was the first few days back from a school break so business hand't picked back up. Their few regulars at this time were out of town or cutting back expenses leaving Eddie with hours of nothing in the middle of the night. Plus the storm. At least it meant his supporting staff could fuck off, and he could smoke weed in the store instead of the rain.

Ten minutes after Ruby left Eddie laid down on the diner's bar top, his hoodie bunched up under his head and one of his Tims resting on the spinning bar stool. The diner had a Bluetooth stereo that Eddie would hijack to play something enjoyable.

The diner door rang about halfway through Eddie's blunt, making him sit up way too quick for his bad back. The door opening let in the loud thunder and heavy sound of rain, Eddie couldn't believe someone was out in the storm. Let alone this skinny kid in a huge Carhartt jacket.

"Y'all open?" The kid started at Eddie, half sat up on the counter and blunt still in his mouth.

"Well," Eddie sighed as he started to get down. "I guess we fuckin' are."

"Sorry." The kid's voice was raspy and quiet, but deep. When he lowered his hood Eddie took in the messy mop of strawberry blonde hair sticking to his forehead. "Don't have to put that out for me though."

"Don't worry about it." Eddie shrugged. "What're you havin'?"

"Ain't you the line cook?" The blue eyes sized Eddie up. "You a waiter too?"

"I let the others get home before the storm was too bad. What're you gonna have?" Eddie pushed the menu across the counter top. The kid looked at the menu awkwardly before speaking up.

"Just coffee." He shrugged, sitting down across from Eddie.

"You came out in a storm to get coffee. Fuckin' alright." Eddie shook his head as he started serving up the coffee. The blunt was put on the saucer with the cup and slid over to the kid. "Gotta name?"

"Just like coffee." The intense blue eyes flickered over to Eddie before picking up the blunt. "Mox."

"Mox. Alright." Eddie grabbed an apron from under the counter and tossed it at Mox. "I gotta go do some shit in the back. Anyone else come in and serve them some coffee and shout for me."

"The fuck?" Mox frowned as he caught the apron. "Serious?" But he got no answer as Eddie went into the back.

Almost everything in the kitchen was turned off except one grill top and fryer that were on low. The kid wasn't too old, and if he was walking into this shit hole in the middle of a storm it meant he didn't have anywhere to go to keep safe.

A lot of folks that had nowhere to go ended up in the diner. This kid Mox probably couldn't even pay for his coffee. It didn't take long for him to get a double burger with cheese and fries going. Every so often Eddie peaked out the window to see the kid just napping on the counter top. Eddie was an asshole but he was also a big softy.

"Ay yo, no sleeping on the job, kid!" Eddie shouted as he came out of the double doors to set the burger down in front of him.

"Uh..." Mox sat up, his eyes on the food with a deep frown. "I didn't want nothin'." He said defensively.

"Nah? Well, I guess I just gotta toss this out, huh?" Eddie went to take the plate back but Mox grabbed his hand. "You don't gotta pay for it, kid. It's on the house for curing my boredom."

"Sure?" Mox looked untrusting but was pulling the plate closer to him. "No one gives me food."

"I ain't no one. I'm Eddie." He snatched the last of the blunt back from Mox. "Eat before I steal it from you. Wanna cigarette?"

[weresilver]

Can you feel it?

What is this? A brand new fic for @eddiemonth? And so soon after?? (shut up this feels soon)

This is day 06, crush, and is in the same continuity as day 5. Named after Mansionair's Astronaut (Something About Your Love), that like. Please listen to them. They are a whole vibe, I love their music.

Warnings: None, this is just even more fluff. Extremely sappy get together. Steddie. I should start calling this section, like. tags or smth.

Wordcount: 2968

If he were to be honest with himself, Eddie hadn't expected to keep this monster hunting party in his life, not for long. He expected everyone to go on their way, while he was fumbling just to get out of the town.

Well, some people did go their own way. Older Byers was off to college in California with Argyle, after some extensive talk with his family and with Nancy, and Nancy herself was off in Boston.

But everyone else? Well, the kids had to finish high school before going anywhere, and Robin had decided to take a gap year that was about to end. And Steve…

Between joint recoveries and sharing almost the same group of people (and eventually truly having all the same friends), they had spent a lot of time together. They had become friends, good friends, not necessarily by choice, but the truth was that Eddie wouldn't change it for the world.

But sometimes, it was nice to just… exist. To be able to not think about the feelings he’d realized that were growing not too long ago. About how, even though he’d only noticed them recently, the feelings hadn’t been really new. About how it looked reciprocated, sometimes.

Eddie expected to hear about Steve’s plans to get out of town any day now, maybe tag along with Robin, so why do anything about the something that was brewing, right?

Deep down, Eddie knew Steve wouldn’t leave before the kids’ senior year started. At the earliest. Eddie felt pretty much the same already, after knowing them for only a little over a year. According to Robin, they did have that effect somehow.

(Something about how young they all were to have been at the whole supernatural thing for years.)

After dropping El and Will back home, he’d driven himself to a secluded little clearing, having to go the long way around so he’d actually be able to drive his van into it. But it was worth it, it’d always been worth it.

Eddie grabbed a few of the blankets stashed at the back of his van and threw them on top of it before climbing up himself. Setting up his little makeshift bed up there was a quick process; a couple of blankets to make the roof a little more comfortable, and the rest bunched together into a pillow.

It wasn’t particularly good, but it was part of his summer routine at this point, so he settled down, lying on the roof of his van. He watched the clear, evening summer sky fade into night, watching the stars come out slowly and then all at once as the animal sounds faded and changed to accompany the sky.

Some birds — owls, if he had to guess — and bats were flying overheard, occasionally cutting his vision of the stars and changing the tracks of his thoughts; the song he’d been working on, the campaign Will wanted to run for Hellfire next, Robin’s entirely too chaotic packing process, and how that girl might have surpassed him in terms of organizational chaos. At least Eddie could find his shit in half the time it had taken her to find the shoes she was taking with her.

The crunch of steps on fallen branches drew him out of his thoughts, making him turn in its direction.

“Jesus, how far is this place,” Eddie heard in a very familiar grumble. Steve was closer than he probably expected to be, and it didn’t take long before Eddie could see him on the treeline. “Uh… Hi.”

“Hi,” Eddie returned, waving at him from where he lay with a grin. “Funny seeing you here.”

Steve rolled his eyes and walked closer. He was wearing some ridiculous yellow shorts and what looked like an old NASCAR shirt, color and design faded with time. It was a little different from what Eddie was used to; more relaxed, like he didn’t have anyone to impress. Which was good, Eddie didn’t need to be impressed by style.

(Eddie knew, objectively, that Steve genuinely enjoyed the polos and all that, but it was still nice to see him in something else. Something softer.)

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asked once he was close to the van, just enough to still be able to see Eddie.

“Looking for Scorpius,” he stated simply, gesturing for Steve to come up. While Steve climbed to the roof of the van, Eddie adjusted the pillow of blankets so they could lie side by side. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was expecting to find you in the trailer,” Steve started, leaning back on top of the blankets on his elbows with a frown on his face. “Wayne directed me over here.” Steve looked around, frowning even harder when he glanced at the ground. “You said you’re looking for scorpions?”

“Scorpius, not scorpions,” Eddie corrected softly, turning back to the stars. “The constellation.”

Steve let out a soft “Oh,” turning to glance at the sky before lying down and making himself comfortable.

Eddie had the vague knowledge that Scorpius was closer to the horizon line, but he’d have to drive up to Hop’s old cabin and the nearby hill to actually look for it, and he just… didn’t want to go that far.

(Didn't really want to be looking over all of Hawkins.)

“What’s the story?” Steve asked after a couple of minutes spent in silence. When Eddie turned to look, Steve was already watching him, his little smile illuminated by the moon. After a beat, he added, “Constellations have those, don’t they?”

Eddie nodded, struggling a little to find his words with the way Steve was looking at him. “It’s uh…” He cleared his throat and turned back to the sky. “It’s the scorpion that killed Orion.”

He could still feel Steve’s eyes on him, waiting for more.

“Orion was a hunter, the best one humanity had to offer,” Eddie started, gesturing to their surroundings as if it could encompass every person in the world. “But he was just a human, you know? And if even the gods of ancient Greece were flawed, imagine how bad a human could be.”

He glanced at Steve, finding all of his attention still focused on him.

“His flaws are not really the point, though.” He shook his head, continuing the story. “At some point in his life, Orion was hunting with Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and wild animals, and… Well,” he grimaced, “He claimed to be able to hunt every animal on Earth.”

“To the goddess of the hunt?” Steve questioned with that particular tone he had when he thought something was stupid. “Rather arrogant of him.”

“Yeah, but Artemis was fond of him.” Steve raised an eyebrow at that, but it took Eddie a moment to realize how his words could be taken. “Not like that,” he added, chuckling. “Artemis was a virgin goddess, none of that.”

Steve hummed, his expression betraying his surprise. “Good for her.”

Eddie blinked at Steve, at this tone of awe that he had.

“Where does the scorpion come in?” Steve asked, a little furrow appearing between his brow that Eddie wanted smooth out, though he had a story to finish.

“Right,” Eddie sighed out, turning once again to the stars. “Gaia, the personification of the Earth itself, didn’t like Orion’s claim.” He paused, then added, “She’s the mother of all life, so.” He gestured nonsensically upwards, finishing his story with as much a deadpan tone as he could muster. “She sent a giant scorpion to kill him.”

“A giant—” Steve burst out laughing, shaking his head in some kind of attempt to regain his composure. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—”

“It’s kind of a silly conclusion?” Eddie asked with a smile on his face as well as in his voice. Steve nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Greek mythology is kind of… Dramatic, like that,” he explained with a shrug. “Orion’s hubris got him killed by a giant scorpion—” Steve snorted, but reined himself in quickly— “And they were both raised to the sky as constellations as a warning against humanity’s arrogance.”

Steve hummed, gaze unfocused when Eddie looked at him. “Where are they, then?”

“Uh…” Eddie blinked and turned to the sky to blink some more. “Orion is not visible this time of the year, and Scorpius is closer to the horizon,” he said, raising his arm to point in the general direction he remembered the constellation being.

Steve hummed, but didn’t say anything, letting the silence and the warm evening air envelop them. Eddie expected it to grow awkward, for Steve to say something, for himself to end up fidgeting. Instead, it was easy to just exist together like this, lying side by side and watching the night sky.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, some indeterminate time later. Eddie could feel Steve move about, slowly as to not risk falling off the side, and settle on his side, holding himself up on his elbow. “El was all…” He gestured toward his face. “All frowny, and she only does that when she’s worried. Dustin also said you seemed down.”

Eddie sighed, wishing those kids paid just a little less attention. “I’m good,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Just thinking, you know?”

“About?”

“What happens now, I guess?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question. “We got a couple more practice sessions before Jeff and Arnie are going back to college.”

“Gareth’s not going anywhere out of state, though, right?” Steve asked with a thoughtful little frown that Eddie couldn’t resist smoothing out with a finger this time. It earned him a soft laugh and a smack to his hand. “You guys can keep Corroded Coffin going?”

Eddie shrugged as much as he could while lying down. He tried that once, making it on his own, but it didn’t seem as worth it now.

“Think I’d rather not split the band,” he said, grimacing and knowing that Steve would pick up the story he wasn’t telling.

“So,” Steve drawled, eyes narrowed at Eddie like he’d be able to figure out whatever was going on in his head. “The plan is just to wait?”

Honestly, Eddie hated that idea, but what else could Corroded Coffin do? “Sure.” Steve eyes narrowed further, going unfocused again. “What?”

“The kids will be starting their junior year,” he stated.

Eddie hummed to let Steve know he was listening, but he had no idea where the guy was going with this.

“You should come to Indianapolis with me,” he announced.

Eddie blinked at Steve, processing his words for a moment. The offer seemed to come out of nowhere. He expected Steve to leave Hawkins at some point, he’d been preparing for that news, and now it came with an offer to tag along?

“I don’t really have any plans yet,” Steve continued, probably taking Eddie’s silence as hesitation. “We’d have to look into places, and Indianapolis is just an hour away, but it should be enough for a fresh start, right?”

Eddie nodded, a little numbly. “You, uh…” He shook his head to dislodge his surprise. “I think Gareth’s going to community college in the city, actually.”

“Is he, now?” Steve raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed and not surprised.

“Right, you two talk a lot now.” It was still rather amusing that the two of them hung out so much, even without Eddie. “Will?”

“Of course it’s about Will,” Steve scoffed, waving a hand in a flourish. “It’s why he picked Indianapolis. But don’t change the subject,” he added with a smack to Eddie’s arm.

“Alright, alright!” Eddie laughed, rubbing his arm. He’d have rolled away from Steve if it didn’t mean rolling off the roof of the van. “I guess Indianapolis is pretty good…”

Steve beamed at him, a smile he’d been seeing more often as the time passed. Usually, Steve was being a little shit when he smiled like that, but sometimes, he just seemed… happy.

“You could, I don’t know, teach kids how to play the guitar.”

That made Eddie laugh, surprised at the suggestion. Not that he necessarily disliked it.

“Who’d even let me?” He asked. “Maybe I’ll find work at a record store, that seems more likely.”

“If you want to, I’m sure you could find something.” Steve shrugged, that grin not fading from his expression. “Who says you can’t do both, anyway?”

And… Well, Steve had a point. Maybe he could find a store that offered lessons?

“Why are you asking me to go to Indianapolis with you?” The question was asked before Eddie even processed that it was something he wanted to know. He grimaced as soon as it was out. “Not that I don’t want to, god knows I wanted to be out of this town three years ago now, but just— I thought you might tag along with Robin?”

Steve’s expression softened, a serene smile replacing the wide grin. “I thought about it. Robin’s going to Indianapolis University anyway, though, and…” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I think I’d like you there too.”

“You think?” Eddie questioned with a raised brow. It was easier to tease and joke than really look into that sparkle of mirth in Steve’s eyes and hope it meant what he wanted it to mean.

Steve shook his head, sending his hair all over the place. “I know. Got used to your noise, Munson.”

“Well, I’m making your life interesting, so you’re welcome.”

They were both smiling when Eddie finally let himself look Steve in the eye, finally relaxed enough even though he hadn’t escaped thinking about Steve, or his actual presence. It was fine. There some tentative plans to get out of Hawkins, together, and maybe Corroded Coffin would forever be a high school band that didn’t really go anywhere — Eddie was only starting to be okay with that idea, though — but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something else with music.

Steve laid back down on the van after a moment of silence, turning his gaze to the sky. Like this, they were touching pretty much from shoulder to knee, and Eddie was trying not to move too much, conscious of the warmth radiating from Steve.

Steve, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have the same hang-ups, nudging Eddie’s hand until he could take it in his own.

“This okay?” He asked softly, not turning his head and not seeing Eddie already looking at him. Eddie squeezed his hand and intertwined their fingers as response. “I wasn’t planning on talking to you about Indianapolis tonight, you know?” His admission was soft, barely above the ambiance of the woods at night. “I was just gonna keep you company.”

“I’m glad you did.” Eddie let himself take in Steve’s face and what freckles he could see in the dark before turning away. “Easier to think I can actually get out of here when I have a tentative plan.”

“You can, Eddie,” Steve said, firmly squeezing his hand. “I meant it, I’d really like if you came to Indianapolis with me.”

He could feel Steve’s eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, and he refused to loosen the hold on his hand. Eddie sighed, turning to face Steve’s small, determined frown.

“Sometimes,” he started, hesitating before pulling their joined hands closer. “I kinda wish you were still some degree of asshole.” Steve frowned, ready to interject, but Eddie continued before he could. “‘Cause it would make getting over this ridiculous crush so much easier.”

Steve pulled their hands closer to himself this time, and Eddie could see him pursing his lips. He’d been paying too much attention, enough to know this was Steve trying to rein in one of those rare, goofy grins that had been one of the things that made Eddie fall in the first place.

“What if,” Steve started, slowly letting the grin take hold, as he started absently playing with the one ring Eddie forgot to take off before climbing up the van. “I don’t want you getting over this ridiculous crush?”

Eddie blinked at him — he felt like he’d done that a lot tonight, almost constantly surprised by Steve despite how close they’d gotten. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t seen this coming, too close to see what, eventually, might become obvious in hindsight.

“You mean that?”

Steve’s grin came out, full force, in the face of Eddie’s soft tone. He slowly brought Eddie’s hand closer and pressed an oh so soft kiss to his knuckles.

“I mean it.”

Eddie didn’t really know what to say to all that, the smooth jerk knew it and could probably see the blush undoubtedly rising on his cheeks. But there was one thing that he needed to double check.

“You know I’m—”

“Asexual?” He filled in after Eddie cut himself short. “Yeah, I do.” Steve was back to messing with the ring on his hand, looking at it with an expression Eddie still hadn’t figured out. “And I think…” He paused, frowning a little. Eddie kind of wanted to bite him. “It might apply to me too?”

Eddie rolled closer to Steve and pressed a kiss to cheek, feeling the heat rising the longer he stayed there.

“Thanks for telling me,” he mumbled against Steve’s cheek. He pressed another quick kiss before settling back down. “Feels good to know, doesn’t it?”

Steve’s laughter was light, giddy. He rolled onto Eddie this time, hugging him as close as possible.

“It really does.”

Eddie knew they would talk come morning, and they would define just what they wanted and were to each other. But for now, cuddling and laughing under the night sky with ridiculous Greek stories was all Eddie wanted to be doing.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 8: Not mine

After a couple of hours of talking, and mostly listening, to Rhoda and Chapman about dragon habits and needs, I promise to help look for a better place for me to live. Though my hope is that there aren’t any.

Dammit, even after my transformation I’m still fawning.

I think I need to talk to my counselor about having human grade C-PTSD as a dragon. I don’t think she’s qualified to assess that, but she can at least listen. Especially if I get another tablet, which, by the way, Kimberly says she might have for me.

She won’t be able to bring it to me until later tonight, or tomorrow morning, but that’s fine.

It’s her old one, though, and it has a shitty battery, which we’ll need to replace to make it actually useful for me. But Rhoda is the kind of person who knows who to go to for that, apparently.

It seems that Rhoda’s favorite thing to do is networking, and she networks with everyone.

It turns out that Chapman took the day off just to get that color booklet to me as soon as possible, and was able to because work was fortuitously so slow today. Hir boss almost suggested it before sie walked up and asked.

And now that we’ve had our meeting early, sie’s eager to go with Rhoda to the library. Any opportunity to research dragons further clearly excites the shit out of hir.

The two of them make quite the pair. Tall Rhoda with her purples and maroons, with long sleeves and stockings even in the summer heat, and a cane that’s basically too thick dowels nailed together with a miter joint, and short round Chapman’s ingenious mishmash of neon queer greaser roller derby 90’s ska punk perfection, walking side by side down the street. I feel like there’s some kind of power there. And if they were baubles, instead of people, they’d be the perfect start to a good hoard.

Watching them head toward the bus depot, I realize that what I’m about to do is very risky, all for the sake of something I don’t believe in.

I’d better do it right.

It’s about half past noon now, and the traffic has gotten heavier as people are on their lunch breaks. Which means I can’t really use any of the roads as a runway.

I step out from under the awning and look up at my building.

Time to climb it.

Oh, the police are going to love this if they see me doing it.

Whatever.

Using a stroke of my wings for assistance, I leap up to grab the edge of the awning, and then flapping them rapidly I work to pull myself up onto it. And I do much better than Whitman did in a similar situation. They must have been really stunned and scared.

There’s a fire escape around the corner of the building, and I could have just gone to that in the first place, actually. I do that now, to save myself a lot of effort. No need to scale a brick face where there are stairs. And those go up to the top floor!

At the top of those, I do a repeat of my hop and scrabble to get onto the roof.

It’s not the tallest building downtown, but it’s one of the few.

I’m going to head south, so jumping from the roof down over the street I usually use as a runway makes the most sense. But I’ve got something else I have to do first.

Determined to make it known that this place is mine, I pace around the full edge of the building, repeatedly making my signature challenge call.

Let it be known that if you can hear my voice, you are in my air! And you’d better turn away and find somewhere else to be.

After about halfway around the circumference of the building, I start hearing other cries echoing back, each one very different from the others. And I can actually visualize where I think they’re coming from.

I get sort of a map in my head of where some of the other dragons are in the city. I don’t think I could draw it, but I can see the only hole I can fly through without offending anyone. Jesus, we’re densely packed. And it’s not even all fifty that are supposed to be here. Maybe twelve others have answered.

This isn’t going to be good if we can’t make peace with each other somehow.

Even though I know it’s unreasonable, my feeling is that if they all recognize my superiority, we’ll be fine.

With this thought firmly in mind, just for the determination of it, I complete my circuit, and then position myself for take-off.

I’ve gotta give one more revving Harley squawk and air-ratchet chatter before I take off, so I do. And then I fall, spread my wings, and pull up to shoot out down the street just above tree level. Then, flapping laconically and heading for the strongest of the thermals in my path, I rebuild my altitude before heading out over the bay.

And the more distance I put between myself and my lair, the more I feel like I’m personally at risk and in danger. If someone takes my home, they take my hoard, such as it is, and they take my people. And I really can’t have that. I’d have to start all over again, of course. But also, it’d be like if someone kidnapped my parents and burned down their house, but worse.

I tell myself that my declaration has given me at least a couple hours of reprieve from challengers. Everyone has to know I’m in a mood, and maybe word of what I did to Whitman has started to get around. Though, Whitman’s yawp was not among the responses. I wonder where they live, or where they went after our fight.

They had headed south, on foot.

Hmm.

—

The cave I’m looking for is at the northern end of a trail that follows along the ridge of the foothill closest to the bay, south of the city. It’s technically inside city limits, but there’s no real development there. It’s officially a park on the east side of the ridge, with a smattering of housing developments on the west, facing the water and the sunsets. I’ve delivered pizza to a few of those houses before, during the three months I worked for a pizza place.

I didn’t hear any dragons here, which is either amazing or they just didn’t give a shit. Maybe my voice didn’t make it this far.

I go as far south as I dare and look for the parking lot at the trailhead there, and then follow the trail up and along the ridge. It’s not always visible from the air, but I know where it goes. I hiked it with my parents a couple times before my chronic fatigue set in.

The rocky outcrop that’s used as a viewpoint by hikers is easy to see, and I know it’s right near the end of the trail, so I land on that.

I take a moment to stand there and look out over the southern neighborhoods of the city, toward the arboretum where I humiliated Whitman.

I suspect I’m already in another dragon’s territory, so I’m quiet and alert.

I don’t even huff, though I want to.

Then I start following the trail toward the old mine, the one I’ve been thinking about for the past day. As quietly as I can move. Which is really amazingly quiet. I think. I’m not sure my ears work as well as they used to. They’re kind of hidden behind my head armor.

Whitman had parabolic bat-like ears. If this is Whitman’s territory, I’m going to have to assume they know I’m coming.

This is so stupid.

It’s also more of a hike down than I remember. Almost halfway back down the side of the mountain. And it is just tall enough to be registered as a mountain. Though, I think part of the onerous nature of my skulking exploration is that I’m walking on all fours and being as cautious as possible every inch of the way. 

And with each step, I’m afraid I’m going to be ambushed with napalm. Or teeth the size of my own horns and jaws designed to crush small boulders. Well, maybe two watermelons at the same time.

The thing is, though, I do think that this isn’t really Whitman’s kind of terrain. I’m probably more at home here than they are. If I see them coming, I should be able to dodge around trees so much more easily than they can follow.

But that doesn’t assuage my fear at all. Because if I don’t see them coming, I’m probably dead.

But, eventually I see the big mound of dirt jutting out from the side of the mountain that marks the opening of the mine.

I stop and listen. Then I taste the air.

I taste it repeatedly and a lot, moving my head back and forth.

I could actually sort of do this before my transformation. My tongue was always way more sensitive than my nose, and plugging my nose never made it so I couldn’t taste anything. But it’s nicer and more effective to have a longer tongue that’s split and more flexible, with a sort of hole in the center of my lips for it to slip out. And it is way more sensitive than it was before.

I don’t taste anything that I’d identify as another dragon.

And, also, the mouth of that man made cave isn’t any warmer than its surroundings.

I think that means that if there’s a dragon there it’s not Whitman. But I can’t bring myself to be sure that it’s vacant.

Maybe I should make a strategic noise. A call of challenge for this one only. Quiet, but not too quiet.

I’d rather call them out, bristling and ready to fight, than to stick my head into a gout of napalm.

Or maybe I should just leave, because this was a bad idea.

Experimentally, I rumble. And I stand there and rumble for quite a while, and nothing happens.

Realizing that it’s not working, I then make a squawk about the volume I’d use to call to someone across a crowded pub.

It sounds a lot louder than I’m comfortable with.

But there’s no response.

I stay still a while longer, still tasting the air and using my ears. My hearing might not be as good as it was, but I’m not not using it! I’m also keeping an eye out for any movement.

When I’m certain that there’s no dragon here that’s going to make themself known, I approach the cave.

But at the mouth of it, I taste the air again. Or, rather, I don’t stop tasting it the whole way, but I pause there to wave my head back and forth some more.

If anything, the air tastes like forest duff and vaguely of human urine.

Gross.

There is no heat in the cave. Even an endothermic dragon would likely be warmer than their surroundings. I think that once they got as cold as their surroundings, they’d need to warm them up somehow to not go into torpor, with how cool it is in there.

I’m just guessing. But it’s what I’m telling myself to get myself to go deeper in.

I move so slowly, one footstep at a time. Nothing.

Nobody.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can tell clearly that the cave is completely empty. It doesn’t even go that far back. Maybe thirty feet, just as I remember.

I also remember my parents telling me not to go all the way back, because in an abandoned mine that’s maybe a hundred years old, that’s really dangerous. Even though the walls and ceiling are solid rock. And, of course, it’s a square shaft.

Still, now I’m curious if I could even make it a comfortable home. It’s pretty small, with no room for even what I call a hoard. But I could put something in here and if I can turn around alright, maybe it’ll do while I work to assert my dominance over a larger region.

I want to know how it feels, and I just… I just…

It might be nice to sleep in here. Like, right now.

A Tumblr post I reblogged just last week comes to mind, and I’m sufficiently alarmed. No, no, no. I’ve got to get out of here quickly.

I’ll die.

I start backing up, scrunching up as I go, getting my head out of the back of this mine as fast as I can, when I hear, or rather feel, a powerful thump behind me.

In a horrific panic, without even really thinking, I scramble up the wall and across the ceiling like I’m trying to leave the bathroom in my apartment after using the toilet. And, wings held tightly against my ribs, tail scraping along the lower corner of the wall until it whips out behind me, I land facing the entrance without having advanced any further that way.

A quick breath gives me more oxygen than before, which is good.

Because there, right in front of me, are all the teeth of Whitman, coming right at me.

Two steps back, and another quick intake of air, this time not into my lungs, and I just barely avoid having my head snapped off.

We’re nose to nose, and I don’t even know if they can see me around their snout.

Their mouth opens quickly again to make another attack.

And I exhale.

The result is not good for either of us.

There is fire everywhere.

And even though my nictitating membranes have successfully protected my eyes from burning and from being hurt by the glare of heat, and my scaly hide seems to shrug off my own napalm just fine, the fire is eating up the oxygen in the mine extremely fast.

I have to get out as fast as I can. But to do that I have to go through an enormous flaming Whitman.

And they’re thrashing about in terror and pain, slamming their head against the sides, ceiling, and floor of the mine shaft, and I know better than to get any closer to that.

I can’t stop myself from taking another step back, despite that way being certain death. But I also can’t stop myself from making a noise.

At first it’s my ultra bass rumble, low enough that pebbles on the floor of the mine dance. Whitman’s got to feel it.

But they’re too distracted by napalm in their gullet to care.

I can’t even really see what’s going on. My eyes are cloudy with natural protection, and fire and chaotic movement is creating an unintelligibly blur of light and shadow. And I think I’m asphyxiating.

Needing as much oxygen and breath as I can get, I take a big breath of dangerous air, which might be a huge mistake, and start making the most humiliating sound I can think of. Humiliating for Whitman.

I fill the cave with a fire engine’s siren. No honks, no braps, just a constant, long warbling wail. And I start advancing, to make it get louder.

I want those ears to bleed.

Visually, I can’t tell if it’s working. My own snout is probably still aflame. But I do hear thumbs, scrapes, and yawps as Whitman continues to struggle and thrash.

They didn’t come very far into the cave, because I wasn’t all that far in there. They should be running out of walls to hit if they’re backing up. But I keep going, because I have no other choice. And I’ll know if I’ve misjudged when I get hit in the face with a hippo-dragon snout.

I lower my head, present my horns, and brace my neck to make a plunge, and then, convinced I’m committing suicide, I charge.

There’s a thump, a “Grawp”, and a big sliding sound as I move, but I don’t make impact.

Instead I come flying out of the mine through smoke and flames, and scrabble right over Whitman as they’re sliding down the far slope of the mine’s discarded rubble.

And I keep running. I’m not going to face that monster any longer than I have to.

I’m not on my own territory.

At some point I find a good place to take to the air, and I start heading home, out of breath and wobbling in the sky.

I notice when the fire on my snout goes out from the wind and exhaustion of fuel, because I can see again.

And I need to rest somewhere soon, but I’m headed straight for home over the territories of other dragons, and there’s nowhere safe between here and there.

—

The next morning falls with dew upon my head, and grows with a ravenous hunger in my belly. And I can hear seagulls crying out, begging me to eat them.

I’m on the roof of my building, where I collapsed after my flight home. And it seems I’ve slept unchallenged there for fifteen hours or so, if I’m reckoning time right.

Tentatively and gingerly licking my snout with my tongue, I find that I have not been burned by my own flame, but I can taste the traces of chaired fluids on my scales. My nictitating membranes flick into place as I lick my eyes, successfully cleaning them. And then I raise my head and look around.

I didn’t do any damage landing on the roof, so it seems I had a reasonable amount of control even then. Though I don’t fully remember that part.

I remember the flight as being longer than heading out to the cave, and filled with challenges from below. And I remember being quiet, because I needed my breath.

I remember gliding as much as I could to conserve energy and let oxygen build up in my blood.

And I remember deciding, no longer in lucid thought, that my building is my domain and determining to keep it, regardless of what any human says. It’s so fragile, and another dragon could knock it down or set it aflame. But it’s mine, and I’ve just got to do whatever I can to keep it safe.

And now I think about Whitman.

They’re in such a bad spot, with no shelter but a forest that doesn’t suit them, and hardly any people to call their own, unless they do have claim to the west side of the ridge.

I know it’s a bad spot, because they fell back to it after making the effort to drive into the heart of the city and try to take mine.

They must have been watching and tracking me, too. And used their infravision to pick out my apartment. Which speaks to a calculated scheme.

Do I, by chance, have a coveted spot? Or was I just the most vulnerable looking candidate in the downtown area. I am nearly in the center of it, and the nearest other dragons are in other neighborhoods. Which seems unlikely, by population densities. Statistically there should be another dragon or two nearer than that. I think.

Maybe Whitman was another downtown dragon, and that’s why they attacked so viciously and desperately.

I get up and stretch and raise my head to the sky.

After a long and loud challenging cry, I hear reports from my neighbors.

I almost feel reassured by them.

I do it again, and they repeat themselves.

Another.

It feels like they all enjoy this.

I wait.

Someone else calls out, and everyone else replies, including me.

I wonder what the rest of the city is thinking as we do this, joining the birds in the morning song.

And then when we’re done, I start looking out over my domain, looking for likely breakfasts.

I suspect that eating a seagull or two is going to be a confusing experience for me, but it’s going to happen.