#i really hate summer. the only good part about summer is things grow. unless it doesn't rain and in that case the world is on fire

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

I'm not okay with October slipping into July temps. Nope. We may be seeing 80 F/27 C this weekend. After two weeks of cold enough to turn on the heat, we gave this shit moving in. This is unacceptable. Summer is over. Go away.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 27 DAENERYS II (pages 383-392)

Dany arrives in Qarth, and finally gets caught up on the gossip from Westeros re: Bobby B vs The Boar.

If the reader had a penny for every time someone claiming to be a Dany fan decided to deliberately bad faith read one of their Dany-chapter-posts and leave hate, the reader would have two pennies, which isn't a lot but is still making the reader wonder if they should just skip Dany chapters in the future. The reader remains "not here for that shit," and would like to remind folks that shit gets auto-blocks.

-

On the walls of Qarth, men beat gongs to herald her coming, while others blew curious horns that encircled their bodies like great bronze snakes. A column of camelry emerged from the city as her honor guards.

This opening paragraph really drives home just how much complexity D&D stripped away to make make Dany a "cool underdog fighting for her every scrap." Like yes, she had to fight for everything, (although she also has a lot of luck and inherent power and status from just having dragons,) but they removed the entire Vaes Tolorro thing, which, yeah okay, only lasted a single chapter, but it also was an important breathing moment that showed Dany's willingness to build, to grow things, to regain her footing in the wake of what was a huge shift in her mentality from leader('s wife) of the khalasar to having almost nothing. (Also, on the subject: D&D making Doreah a self-interested betrayer because they think women have very few settings (bitch, plot device, meek, one of the guys) was absolute garbage. just like them.)

"Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or will be, (...) ancient beyond memory of man and so magnificent that Saathos the wise put out his eyes after gazing upon Qarth for the first time, because he knew that all he saw thereafter should look squalid and ugly by comparison."

Qarth is the Taj Mahal!? I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke about real human suffering. (It's also not a one-to-one but my brain knee-jerk connected.)

The women wore gowns of that left one breast bare,

Why though? Is there a specific reason? Or did GRRM just decide to half-ass the tits out look? I have questions about support, and whether its up-from-under or a wedge-cut from over, like Jane Foster's one-tit armour in Thor. The second one. Also: Qarth sounds so cool. (I hope those sandals the kids were wearing were only golden coloured though, or if not, at least it means they'll never be able to skip leg day.

"A honor as rare as summer snows."

I don't know why but this made me snort. I think it's partly because summer snows aren't rare at all in the north of Westeros, so this changes his sentence for context, but I know he means locally. I think it's also in part because my brain is going "wrong grammar is wrong" because 'honor' is one of those silent(ish) 'h' words that sound like it starts with a vowel, so my brain's like, "it's either "an 'onor" or you're pronouncing the 'h'. "a HHhhhhhhonor."" I might just be very tired.

"We have seen only the parts of Qarth that Pyat Pree wished us to see," she went on. "Rakharo, go forth and look on the rest, and tell me what you find. Take good men with you - and women, to go places where men are forbidden."

Yes, good. Trust but verify, except don't trust these people. Good thinking to send the ladies, way too often authors just ignore female spaces (... unless they're brothels.)

Dany had no wish to reduce King's Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped on enough tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father. But before she could do that she must conquer.

Well now I'm sad. ... *pushes season 8 off the table like a cat with a vase*

Beneath Dany's gentle fingers, green Rhaegal stared at the stranger with eyes of molten gold. When his mouth opened, his teeth gleamed like black needles.

Ahhhh, so their teeth are black like their bones! I had wondered about that. Like I got the vibe with the skelies, but living dragons also: check!

"Dragons die." She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on an unshaven cheek. "But so do dragonslayers."

oh now there's a raw-ass line. It has like an... almost inverse energy of that quote about dragons and stories... what was it...

Fairy tales do not tell children dragons exist. Children already know the dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed. - G.K. Chesterton

What's interesting about Dany's line is her acknowledgment that dragons die, when previously she's mentioned them as being powerful and nigh on indestructible creatures. Usually though she's using the references in metaphor for herself and those around her as a kind of mental housekeeping and protective adjustment, like Arya and her 'fear cuts deeper than swords' mantra.

Coming close on the heels of her talk with Jorah and captain Quhuru Mo of the Cinnamon Wind, it's kind of a blend of her previous imagery and "I understand that I am not in the best position of power, that I can still fail if I'm not careful, but so could my enemy, because they've lost their balance too."

[masongrizchel]

Day 331 of 365

WHAT PHYSICS HAVE TAUGHT ME

When I was in high school, the science that I liked most (especially during my first year) was biology. We were one of the few people who experienced the last part of the old curriculum (Science I, GenSci, Science II, Biology, Science III, Chemistry, and Science IV, Physics). I have been really fascinated by science since I was a kid. When I was asked by my kindergarten teacher, 'What do you want to become when you grow up? '. I answered, I want to become an astronaut. I am really into astronomy and earth science. Whenever this becomes a topic, I have so much information to share.

I really do love to read. At the age of ten, I was reading entomology books. There is so much to learn about the world, but this motivation or dream fades when reality slaps you. When I reached my teenage years, due to uncontrollable circumstances, life taught me how to be tough. Life will beat you up to the point where you have no other choice; refusing is not part of the choice. But accept it as it is. This is reflected in my academic performance. And the consequence of this is that I'm still bearing it even now. Especially whenever I look at my academic records from high school.

My interest in biology faded when I encountered chemistry. I hate chemistry more than biology. What the hell is this balancing of equations that I will not use in my life? All I balanced back then was a mixture of alcohol and other substances that I used to escape the harsh truth of life. Well, of course, I failed these subjects, and I have no other choice but to take them during the summer.

When I encountered physics, I hated it further. I didn't have a calculator before. I have to solve it manually. As a teen, whenever you fail academically, other aspects of your life fall apart. Your only means of survival is to find a suitable support group. Where to hang out, where to feel that you belong, where to abuse yourself, going beyond the means of your physical capacity Cell consumes. Life itself is bad and bitter, while death is always right. But never did death cross my mind (which is a good thing). But the personal hate about life is always part of my system (especially before).

So when the quarterly test came (the physics test), I held onto the test paper. answered confidently and surprisingly when the score returned. The reason I am confident is because I took the exam while drunk and had a hangover. I put a smile on my face as I wrote my answers. And to my surprise, when the results came, I received a mark of 6/50.

Then there was a topic that I have read in physics: (1) Newton's Laws of Motion. "A body at rest maintains its state of rest, and a body in motion maintains its state of uniform motion, until and unless a net external force acts on it." This made me realize I needed to rethink what I wanted to be. Our dream will not be achieved until and unless we apply a net external action.

Then, (2) superposition of forces: "When multiple forces are acting on an object, then each force will create the same effect as it would have if no other force were acting on it." Performing work or exerting effort with full dedication and hard work doesn't matter if there is anyone else trying for the same thing.

Since physics is my last science subject (in high school), this served as my trigger point to go back into STEM. Physics, or STEM in general, taught me a lot of things. And this means that we in STEM are problem solvers. We place emphasis on the solutions and not on the problem itself. We are also trained to think critically. There are several approaches or solutions to one problem. By knowing the right conditions (by means of critical thinking), we can use what we have. We can know what we can do; this can also serve as our tool to advance in what we want or what we dream to become.

And whatever we intend to do with life, it's all part of the process. a process by which we discover who we want to be. And what we do, with whom we wanted to.

This is what physics has taught me, not just the solving and theory parts. But its extension is in real life. a guide to reality.

[loveandscience]

my anxiety's been really bad lately, even before my parent was dealing with health stuff. I think I need someone to talk to, but finding someone who is affirming in the ways I need them to be is hard. Maybe I should just write on here for the time being, because it's not been good keeping so much of it in my head.

Work is probably the biggest current anxiety running through my head, and a big part of it is I think not having enough downtime in comparison to work plus other responsibilities. The only thing that truly allows me to recharge is being home alone for many hours at a time-- not a practical thing to really have, tbh, especially in the summer.

I'm kind of thinking about not taking on more clients, and part of that is also anxiety related to wondering if I'm good enough or helpful enough. Some clients I just don't click with, which is a normal thing and not a judgment on either party. I do think there's something about my neurodivergence that turns people off, though. Like, I think about that study a while back that said people seem to not like autistic people, even other autistic people, and like I can't even seek a diagnosis because who knows how that would be used against me, and at the same time it's scary to even openly wonder about it online like this bc what if that's used against me, too?

Like I just don't feel safe to be openly me. And I am only openly trans with a few clients, while others make judgments about me because they think I'm a cis man. I like passing but I also hate having to be in the closet like that, and also when trained I was told to not share about that part of my life unless it's helpful to the client. But like other therapists are openly themselves, growing up my therapist upon meeting me talked about how much he loved his wife and kids, and I'm anxious to even mention having a husband most of the time.

But the biggest issue is the self-doubt that I'm even helpful, it's something that's hard to tell in this kind of profession, and you don't usually get feedback on specific things that were helpful or unhelpful. I already struggle to tell if people like me or not, and learning one way or the other always blindsides me, so I try not to assume on that. And most people, even autistic people, don't share what's working or not working for them a lot of the time or if I end up saying something that offends them somehow. Like, I want to be better, and also many clients struggle with that kind of open communication for valid reasons, so I have to be better at self-care regarding my own anxiety because it's unfair to rely on them to be clear.

Idk. I just really want to help people and I wonder if my possible autism gets in the way of that and how to be better.

[bylightofdawn]

I COULD call this chapter good at like 4K. Or I could push the hand of fate and have a random-ass Jango asked Mij how close they really came to losing Jaster and Mij gets to try and pussy-foot around trying to comfort a prickly 14 year old shithead Jango.

And potentially add another 2K onto this chapter because that's how I roll apparently.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I've also decided tomorrow I will go to the store, I will buy a bottle of wine and as an homage to Thrawn I will get tipsy and read all this Thranto fic I've been talking a big game about reading the past two days. It just feels right, yanno?

Except I'm not drinking red wine because fuck that sophisticated shit. I have terrible tastes, as I'm sure I've made abundantly clear so the only stuff I drink is like 12 dollars a bottle moscato. The sweeter, the better because I'm also a 12 year old child at heart and hate dry wine.. Or much of a wine-drinker in general.

I'm just trying to get the vibes right. And if I am SMART. I will actually do my taxes before I get buzzed on shitty wine. Honestly, shitty wine + thranto fic sounds like the perfect reward for me doing the adult thing and actually filing my taxes finally.

I might also go get a haircut off. Debating being a real shitbird of a child and swinging by my mother's house before I do it and be all "Get your last look at my hair cause I'm chopping it all off" Which tickles a part of me that lives for petty bullshit with my mother but also knows I shouldn't because one of us has to be a responsible adult and it sure as fuck ain't going to be her.

We shall see if wake up on the "I choose chaos" side of the bed or not.

Damn I just got the thought about whether or not my hair was long enough to donate and I don't think it's going to be. Not unless I'm gonna fucking buzz it off which...I'm not that brave. I'll talk to the stylist tomorrow and get their opinion on it. It seems almost a shame to let it go to waste, yanno? I just measured a strand from like the back of my head and it's around 14 inches. But I don't know how short that's going to translate to. I think it's going to be super close. I know some people will accept shorter than the standard 10-14 inches. I might need to investigate that further.

Not that locks of love is gonna want my heavily salt and pepper hair. LOL. I've been going gray since I was like 16 to be fair. I don't think I'll have the patience to grow it out again. Long hair is such a pain in the ass. And it's heavy and hot in Texas summers. Give me my short hair back, plz.

Depending on how the job hunt goes, maybe I will finally follow my crazy wild fantasy want of bleaching it completely and then coloring it a fun color and crazy color. I've always kinda wanted to try going blonde once in my life but that upkeep sounds like soooooo much work. For reference, my hair is naturally a pretty dark level 3/4 brown. So no blonde fantasies for me. And all the times I've highlighted my hair and gone crazy colors it's been such a pain.

[sidecharacter-chan]

Just A Teenage Dirtbag (Roy Mustang x Femme reader)

(Featuring 19yr old F*boy Roy! Oh no

*Super long

*Lots of smut💀)

1904, a remarkable time in Amestris wherein the country was prosperous from the vanquishment of neighbouring nations and everything was constantly in the air. The country was in a constant state of panic and excitement, fear and elation, opposing its own energy on a daily basis. (Basically picture the post-war phase of the 50s).

The music was bopping and the summer was rad, teens across the nation were growing into the hype of the teen rock phase. But not you.

No, 18yr old (y/n)(l/n), you weren't out having fun. You were in the military academy, to become a great asset to your nation and fight for-! Ohhh, who were you kidding? Ya didn't care about all that, ya just didn't know what to do after high school considering your options were so limited for work. Only thing in Amestris that you could guarantee was that if you could hold a gun steady, you had a job.

You were pretty damn good though. You held up well during physical training and were grasping tactics and theory like it was nothing. You weren't a prodigy though, not like that bastard Roy Mustang.

The high-performing 19 year old fellow was in the class above yours. A tall glass of toilet water; you don't want to drink it unless you were really thirsty. You had admit he was attractive, however. He had an inkling of the foreign boy charm because he looked like he might have been Xingese but you weren't sure. He spoke with an Amestrian accent and you didn't question it; after all, this country had a "foreigners cause cancer" kind of attitude. You despised it but here you were, learning to protect these disgusting ideals. We're off topic. Mustang. Mustang, yes.

He'd been hitting on you, a lot.

But he hit on every girl at the academy (and a guy once👀) so it wasn't exactly special.

Despite that though, you found yourself on a date with the aforementioned toilet water. Just burgers at a diner, nothing fancy but the place had its charm.

For the past month, Mustang had been hounding you to go out with him and each time you'd given a ridiculous excuse. You finally accepted, with the agreement that after this he wasn't to bother you again. Geez it pissed you off. Did he think you were excited to go out with him? When on a daily basis you saw him chasing after every other girl, only to come back to you end of the day because you were the only one that ever said no to him? Fuck off, man.

Well...you said all that at first but you...you were actually having such a good time! Ohh you hated yourself for it but you couldn't help it.

He picked you up in his old obviously 2nd or 3rd hand car, your favourite song came on the radio and did the bastard not know every syllable just as perfectly as you did. You screamed the song and the song that came after and the next too all the way to the little eatery. You were both in a good humour. He made a couple jokes you couldn't stop yourself from laughing at. Ugh, you from a week ago would've been disgusted with you right then.

He was charming, yes. He complimented you a lot and your face reacted on its own, smiling and tinting at the cheeks. Damn it, stop. You were actually enjoying the toilet water's company. Damn it, damn it, damn it! You were starting to like him and you could feel it brewing. Oh, Mustang, you cute bastard.

But you didn't forget that he was just a skirt-chaser. That never left your mind. This was probably something he did with other girls all the time and you weren't special beyond your resistance to his advances; and now that you had surrendered to his charms you were the same as his other discarded muses. It sucked. Part of you kind of...wished you could've mattered to him, just a little.

"I know what you think of me, (y/n)," His wonderful voice said, making you forget what you were even thinking about. "You think I'm some kind of hoe, don't you?!" Was that a joke?

"Well yeah, Mustang-san." You responded, laughing at the bizarre way he asked the question.

"Ouch." He laughed.

"Ya can't blame me, can you?" Your voice darkened. "You've gone after every girl on campus. It's only natural I'd refuse you as much as I did; what would be the point of going out with someone who just wants to use me?"

Oops, you didn't mean to say that. Oops. Oops. Oops.

But you weren't taking it back either.

"Use you..? (Y/n), I wouldn't dare. I'll admit I've gone out with a lotta girls but that's just for kicks...you're the only girl I've actually had genuine interest in. You're really cool, I...I like you (y/n), a lot."

Your world froze as the man laid his hand on yours and looked unto you with a soft yet focused gaze. D-did he expect you t-t-o believe that b-bullshit? Coz if he did then he...was right! You bought into it, you fool.

You weren't stupid, not naïve either, but the lack of romance you had experienced till then made you easy to be swept away by pretty words.

"M-Mustang-san," you mumbled in response, words failing you.

"Don't worry," he smiled. "Even if you don't feel the same way now, I'm not gonna stop showing you until you do."

Aahhhhh, butterfliiiieeeessss.

The following 2 months or so were a blurry bliss. You two went out a bunch of times, but discreetly since it was against protocol for two cadets to date. You learnt a lot about him in that time. For starters, he was adopted (that worsened your theories on him being Xingese), he studied alchemy under a fire specialist type, super cool. And, you learnt that, unlike you, he genuinely wanted be a soldier. He wanted to "shape the country for the future", "make it a peaceful and safe place", "protect those who showed him so much kindness in his youth".

Roy was a good man. Oh yeah, you dropped the -san by the way. He was just Roy now. Your Roy.

Dating him was awesome. He was attentive but didn't overdo it in front of others, and he was protective. You were falling for him, badly. And surely he could tell.

Things in your relationship were progressing pretty quickly, and you had let go of the reigns gladly, letting the train go on whichever track it wished. You felt comfortable enough to do so. Ah but, there was one thing you maintained some control over. You two hadn't been intimate. He'd gotten close once but you stopped things before they got too heated. It wasn't that you didn't want to, it was just that-

"Roy, I...I'm still a vir-, chaste. I'm still chaste."

You assumed he'd be really turned off. Guys were like that. Taking a girl's first was too much responsibility.

"Well, nothing wrong with that, baby." He said with a knowing smile.

Oh. Okay. Interesting reaction.

"I get it if...I'm not the person you'd want that to go to, it's a big de-"

"No, no, it's not that! I'm just a bit...nervous, I guess." You said with some embarrassment.

He cupped your face in his palms (his hands were really rough honestly) and kissed you.

"Then let me promise...to make it special for you," he whispered in your ear lowly.

Oohhhhh, you almost died right there and then. You loved h-, don't say it...

The following weekend, he took you out just as he always did but there was lingering tension in the air. You knew his intentions, it was in his eyes. They were darker than usual. His smirk was more villainous than usual, too. Your stomach was in knots. Was it excitement or fear? Something in between. But does prey usually get excited when they feel their predator waiting to pounce and devour them? Well, that's the thing that makes humans different from other animals: confusion between the basic feelings to form new ones; lust is what it was.

On the drive back to the barracks, he made a detour. Ah, here we go.

Roy drove on a road you didn't quite recognise to a location you didn't know, stating it was a surprise when you asked him where to. Eventually you arrived at a pricey looking hotel. The knots in your stomach tightened. He parked the car without saying a word, just his smirk speaking for him. He opened the door for you, holding his arm out for you to take. You walked in together. Oh God, it was a beautiful place.

A waterfall adorned with ceramic fish figurines was in the centre of the reception, billowing clear water out its top. There was a massive chandelier up above, hanging from the high ceiling, its crystals bouncing the candlelight all around the hall. The walls were a classy off-white, the floor, off-white tiles with black and red patterns of dragons. Grand paintings covered the high walls, couches lined the room, occupied by rich-looking fellows in expensive suits.

"Welcome to The Ruby Dragon Hotel."

You and Roy took the elevator to the room he booked for you two. He held your hand the whole way. All the way to the door. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you didn't know why. Calm down, calm down, breathe.

"Sorry this is all I could afford," Roy said quietly, opening the door for you.

It was bloody romantic.

Red rose petals covered the floor and bed. The blinds were half closed, letting in thin strips of the afternoon sun in. Ohh this was so cheesy but you loved it.

"Roy, it's perfect," you whispered, hugging him. He was glad you were happy with this.

The two of you entered and locked the door behind you.

Ahh, the knots, the knots.

Roy held you by the waist from behind, brushing your (h/t) hair away from your ear.

"I have a promise to keep, little lady." He whispered.

Your knees gave in to his words. He chuckled a little, noticing that you'd suddenly gone weak.

He spun you round to face him and kissed you with passion you'd never felt before. You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He pulled you in closer by your hips, crashing your body into his. Your heart stopped for just a second when you felt his bulge press against your abdomen. He did that on purpose, the bastard. He placed one hand on your back to keep you in place, the other roamed about your side. You felt that hand slip into your shirt which had already been untucked. You twitched just slightly. He found that cute, he chuckled just a little. Your face became red.

"So sensitive." Roy said with a smirk.

He began unbuttoning the (f/c) shirt, still kissing you but more tenderly. You felt the chill of the air against your bare chest, save for the brassiere you still had on. His face grew dark with lust at the sight. You dared to undo his first button, and with no objections, undid the rest. You loved how muscular his body was, despite the fact his soft face wouldn't forewarn that he was so ripped. He made quick work of your (skirt/pants, whichever you prefer), dropping it/them to floor. You shifted your feet away from the garment. There you stood before him, nothing but a bra and panties. You felt shyness as his gaze pierced you, and fear as his smirk returned. He viciously tore off his belt.

"Sit." He ordered.

You obeyed without thought. You sat on your knees in the middle of the bed, unsure of what to do next. He came over to you, his pants now removed, the tent in his boxers spiking your heart rate. He sat on his knees too and took your hands.

"You can still tell me no, okay? We don't have to if you're not ready yet." He said kindly, though the darkness in his eyes didn't fade for even a second.

"Mh mh, Roy. I'm ready." You smiled.

He flashed a devious smile in return.

Your lover pushed you into the bed by your shoulders, and planted little kisses along your neck; soft ones, no marks no bruises. Little moans escaped your lips, encouraging him further. He kissed down to the centre of your chest. The man angrily unclasped and removed your bra and tossed it somewhere on the floor. He licked the space between your breasts, savouring the taste of your skin. Ohh, your face was so red, it was adorable. He mapped your body with kisses down to your waist, tugging at your underwear to remove it. You instinctively clasped your legs, he shot you look, like a silent order for you to let him go on. You relaxed a little and he roughly tore of the obstructive panties. He sat up to look down at you. The curves of every part of your naked body enticed him so badly, but he knew better than to attack when it was your first. You looked away from him, you suddenly felt so conscious of your body.

"Hey, look at me." He said lowly. You didn't oblige. He roughly turned your face to his. "I said, look at me."

You looked into his eyes, they weren't his anymore.

"Don't be so shy. All of you is beautiful (y/n), every bit of you." You nodded, he smiled.

With haste, he opened your legs to him. He dipped down between them. He left soft pecks on your sensitive inner thighs, making you moan unintentionally. It tickled a little though. His face came closer to your rose. You got shy again; feeling conscious of the small bit of hair you hadn't thought to shave, the fact that no man had ever seen you naked, let alone touched you like this. But you tried to calm down. He placed his hand on one of yours to reassure you, like he knew what you were thinking. You were calm, you were calm. He looked up at you as he went down on you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Ohhh, that felt good.

He licked your clit slowly. You threw your head back, tangling your fingers in his hair. You moaned out his name like Hail Mary's. He quickened his pace, using his hand to spread your labia open to give him more room to work. You felt your body tensing up. Oh, what was this feeling? It was making your body hotter than it already was, it felt like your soul was being torn from you. Roy pushed a finger in you, making the unknown feeling intensify. Your moans became hitched, air refusing to enter or leave your chest. He forced a second finger in, but it hurt a bit. You gripped on to his hair tighter as a way of telling him but he went on. Roughly, forcing in and withdrawing his digits from you. He looked up at you for just a moment, amused to see the state you were in. You were completely at his mercy, weakened to the point you couldn't utter a word but his name. He growled a little and fingered you harder, stroking your inners, making you twitch and squirm under his touch. You lifted your legs higher and moved your hips to his vicious rhythm. The man was an excellent conductor, truly. You felt the mystery feeling well up stronger in your loins.

"Roy, I think I'm...nnnh!" Words failed you, terribly. He chuckled, sending vibrations unto your rose.

"Gonna cum for me, beautiful?" He said, his voice deep and rich.

You screamed out at the words, as he got harsher with his manipulations. He removed his fingers, and pushed your legs even further apart with both hands and ate you out mercilessly. With a final cry, your body released all its tension; shaking and twitching in every muscle. You cried his name, reaching out for something to hold, finding only the bedsheets to grab on to. He let go of your legs, laughing maniacally.

Roy got on top of you, pinning your arms beside your head. He kissed you and smiled. He guided your hand to his still clothed erection, not even giving you a moment to breathe. Every touch he made caused you to moan, this was so terribly amusing to him. He took your hand into his undergarments as he shimmied them off, your cheeks flushed as your hand came into contact with his hard member.

"Here, like this," he said lowly, as he lead your hand to stroking him. He let out a huff from you touching him.

You were happy to please him. You simp. Ahem.

He had his hands beside your head, his breathing becoming laboured the more you ran your hand along his length. He smiled with furrowed brows, cupping your face in one of his hands. He had a look that left hickeys on your soul. You looked up at him, unable to control your facial expression, it was just lewd in ways words can't explain and he loved it.

"That's good, (y/n)," his voice strained, removing your hand.

He kissed you on your neck, opening your legs again.

"You ready?" He whispered.

"Y-yes," you responded.

He kissed you on the cheek. He sat up and lined himself with your entrance. Your heart nearly jumped out your ribcage as you felt him tease you with his tip, pressing it against you. He could see your frustration and anticipation, laughing at what he had reduced you to.

"Please...Roy!" You eventually screamed.

He leaned to your ear.

"Want it that badly, huh?" Roy bit down on your ear and plunged into you.

You howled out.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt, damn it!

You grabbed on his shoulders, digging your nails into his back. He hushed you with a kiss.

He slowly began to rock against you, pushing and pulling in and out of you. He kept his body close to yours, enveloping you with his larger stature. "I know it hurts, I know it hurts," he kept whispering as little pearls of tears fell from your (e/c) eyes. He balanced himself with one hand beside your head, the other wiping your tears away. He smiled at you, bringing your hysteria down. As you calmed down, he sat up then down on his lifted ankles. He spread your legs wide. Nfh, the sight of you below him, weakened with each thrust, was driving him crazy. It took all his strength to keep himself from utterly destroying you. He slowly thrust into you, deep and slow, deep and slow. You were panting and moaning breathlessly, unable to move nor speak. Your eyes were half-closed but you could clearly see him, the man before you, the man tearing your insides with motions that were barely any effort for him. The pain began to subside. It was starting to feel so good. You started to smile just a little. Roy growled.

"And what's that smile for?"

"It...it feels good, Roy...!" You answered honestly.

He chuckled with an evilness in it. He bent down to you, pinning your hands beside you again. He thrust into you much, much harder but still slow. He grunted with each motion. Your moans became sharp gasps; each snap of his hips into yours felt like he was breaking something in you. He began to speed up. The bed was shifting with how hard he was ramming into you. Despite all the training you'd endured till then, you'd never experienced anything this intense before. His presence was surrounding you, filling you, your whole being was being consumed by this man and you never wanted it to end but you wanted that strange release just one more time. And surely he wanted his too.

Roy kissed you bitterly, biting your lip. You howled into the kiss as you felt something stir in you, ah that feeling again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him in deeper into you. He chuckled gruffly again. You didn't know what made him laugh at a time like this but whatever it was, you didn't wanna know the joke.

With each plunge, he pressed against your clit, the feeling was pure bliss.

He finally let go if your arms and grabbed on to the back of your shoulders. You latched onto his. He rocked against you with so much fervour. It felt like he loved you with how much passion he was giving you. The idea of him loving you sent you flying. Your hips bucked forward, feeling the heat in your body reach its peak. You strenuously called Roy's name as your inners contracted around his hard length.

"Again, (y/n)?," He laughed, sweat rolling down his skin. "Hn hn hn, you're really sensitive, aren't you?"

You didn't bother responding. Him continuing to fuck you after you just came was too much stimulation for you. You turned your face away from his but he forced you to keep your gaze on him. Your eyes were threatening to shut, you almost passed out. You didn't remember your name, only his. You didn't why you were calling for him like he wasn't right there but he seemed to get it.

"I know, I know. Bare with me just a little longer, baby, just a little bit." He said to you gruffly.

He began to lose his rhythm but kept his rampant pace. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, holding you so very tightly to him.

He let out a rough grunt before pulling out of you. You let out a sound, neither a scream nor a wimper, just something strangled. He came all over your stomach, heaving. A second or so passed, he slumped over beside you. He let out another one of his chuckles. You panted, your hands just laying by your head.

Roy turned to you and smiled.

"Was I able to fulfill my promise, Beautiful?"

You tilted your head to him.

"I can't walk."

He laughed. Oh, you were the cutest. He laid on his side and brought you closer to him. He propped himself up on his elbow and kissed you.

"So good, Roy," you wimpered.

"You too, (y/n), real good."

He carried you bridal style to the shower after you both caught your breath. He waited for the water to be hot and the two of you got in. He poured the free hotel body wash all over you.

"You dirty girl," he chuckled.

You playfully smacked him on the chest accompanied by a sarcastic "ha ha".

Ah, this was so nice. You wished this moment would last forever. You wished you could've been with him forever. You wished-

"Yeah man, I hit it, ha ha."

You froze behind the wall.

"Wait, she actually let you?"

Hughes-san.

"She fell for the ol' "you're the only girl I actually like" routine. Took a lil longer than I expected but I guess coz she was virgin and all."

Roy.

"Dude, come on, you kept going even when you knew?"

"Oh please, don't say it like I didn't just give her what she already wanted. She was practically begging for it."

Wait...no...come on...

"Yeah coz she thought you cared about her. Your disgusting ya know that?"

"Geez Hughes, lighten up man, it's not that serious."

Yes it is.

"You gotta cut this fuckboy behaviour out. What was the point of wasting all that time if you don't even wanna be with her?"

"Tactics, Hughes. The more persistent army vanquishes the enemy, and trust me the enemy was vanquished thoroughly!"

Stop laughing, damn it.

"'Sides, all these girls are just for practice for when I can lay it down on Riza~".

Who..?

"Dude, she's ne~ver gonna sleep with you if she finds out about the nonsense you've been up to. Listen, momma always told me to be careful what I do, don't go around breaking young girls' hearts. It's gonna bite you in the ass one day."

"Oh shut it, you're just jealous you're not getting any since you and Gracia decided to be abstinent or whatever."

"That was my choice, Roy. I wanted her to understand that I didn't just want sex from her, I love her, I can hold off until the time is right."

"Oh my God, shut uuuup!"

The rest of the conversation was a blur. You stood behind the wall, clutching your chest to keep your heart inside.

How could he...? Surely he was talking about you, you didn't have a doubt.

How could he?!

How could he?!

You felt hot tears stream down your face. You'd been made a fool when you already knew it was coming. You knew then how did you...get fooled like this? Wh-...? Why? Did he really...?!

H...HOW COULD HE?!

"(Y/n) said she'd be around here a little later, guess I'll break things off."

"How're you even gonna do that?"

"Nhh, I'll see. Thinking of going with "you need someone better who deserves you". Sounds g-"

He stopped.

_The Alchemist stared at the broken figure in the doorway of his dorm. Its eyes were brewing with anger, anger that could only come from hate. The broken figure was shaking. The alchemist's companion turned, but he didn't see the broken figure, he saw a blur._

"(Y/n)-!"

You ran off to stop yourself from tearing his throat open. He hesitated but proceeded to chase after you. Roy flew through the hallway, down the stairs and out the dorm building. He looked around until he spotted you marching hastily down the courtyard. He checked no one was around before running up to you. He called out to you, trying to grab your hand. You spun round and punched him in the face in one swift motion. He stumbled back, covering his bleeding mouth with his hand.

"STaY awAY fRom ME!" You growled.

"I...deserve that," he spat out the blood. "(Y/n), please I'm-"

"What? Sorry?!" You cut him off. "Why didn't you just leave me alone?! I said no so many times, you had so many chances to just drop it but you went on with it anyway! You're disgusting!"

Rage filled your every vein and artery, your heart wasn't pumping blood it was pumping hatred through your body.

"I know..." He said quietly. "I was wrong for what I did, (y/n)."

"Don't fucking apologise when you don't even bloody mean it! You knew exactly what you were doing; don't talk like you just made a small mistake unintentionally, damn it!"

"..."

"But you know what really pisses me off the most..!?" Your voice became a low growl. "The fact that I knowww...I know you're actually a pretty decent person and you had the nerve to let me see some of the real you..! The you that actually gives a crap about things..! What the hell are you putting up this fuckboy façade for?!"

He sighed and smiled with resignation.

"Sorry (y/n), but I have no idea what you're talking about. No façade, I really am just a bastard."

"You're...still lying..." You whispered in disbelief.

"Nah, Sugar." He lifted your face by the chin. You saw something breaking in his eyes, it was so sad. "At least we had fun right?"

You couldn't respond. Why was he still pretending? Ah, okay. Let it go. He was sticking with it. You calmed down, furrowed your brows just a little, like saying 'I hear you'.

"Have a nice life, Roy Mustang-san."

"And to you, (y/n)".

...

He shuffled back to his room, flopped over on his bed and buried his face in his pillow. Hughes stayed on his side of the room, trying not to comment on the muffled crying sounds he heard.

"I think I'm...gonna take a break from girls for a while..."

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[whatifyoulivelikethat]

weird, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: Your roommate and best friend, Kim Seokjin, forgot to double-check the autofill information and shipped his package from the online sex shop with your name on it. Naturally, this ends with you tying him up and sucking his dick, and him tying you up with you riding him like a wild animal. Wait, what?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends with benefits; crack (sorry, I can't be serious for more than two seconds when writing Seokjin); yes, reader usually fucks younger dudes XD; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics (both switches), bondage, m-receiving oral, thigh riding, cowgirl, spanking); non-idol!BTS - just two best friends fucking for sexual exploration, don't mind them

technically a prequel to love roulette, m | myg yes, this is the explanation to that mysterious package, but is it really an explanation or rather an excuse to fuck WWH, you decide

--

“Seokjin, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

When Kim Seokjin looked at you, it was a bit like looking into the eyes someone much younger than you even though he wasn’t. He had that youth about him, the ‘here’s-to-never-growing-up’ sparkle in his large brown eyes, complete with parted lips in a small ‘o’ and, alright, yes, his Nintendo Switch in his hands.

“A long time ago, I asked you which way you think you lean, more dominant or more submissive, no?”

His handsome face flushed pink, slowly scooting away from you.

“Er… yeah, I remember…”

“What?”

“Huh?”

You poked him and he squeaked, slapping a hand over his side even though he was wearing a brown sweatshirt. Seokjin was always cold, even during the summer.

Your best friend was an odd character.

You chuckled. “Why are you being so awkward? I thought we were over this phase.”

Well, he should be. You had known Seokjin since elementary school and seen him, er, date was a strong word for what you both were doing in middle and high school, more like being bumbling messes and walking in on each other bonking classmates, but, hey, what mattered is that you both got better at it over the years.

It being sex.

Not romance.

You both still had only sketchy ideas about what romance was supposed to be.

“We are,” your best friend coughed, clearing his throat for absolutely no reason. “We are, I just…”

“Used my name for purchasing goods from an online sex shop?”

He choked and nearly flung his Switch. You caught it, swiftly placing it on the coffee table as you procured the cardboard box from behind your back, already open, address and name circled in thick black permanent marker on the rather inconspicuous package.

“W-What, that’s absurd, why would I ever–?”

You hummed pleasantly, sweeping the box away from his lanky limbs and his flailing hands. For someone who didn’t purchase goods from an online sex shop, he sure was interested in getting the box. He tumbled into your lap, and quickly scrambled back, black hair suddenly fluffed and wild from the movement.

“Something tells me you didn’t check the autocomplete form before clicking submit.”

You saw Seokjin choke on air.

He jerked away from you and fumbled with his phone beside him. You peeked over his broad shoulder and saw that he was scrolling through his emails like a madman, except Seokjin had a bad habit of never deleting any. He had maybe fifteen thousand unread emails to sort though.

“You don’t have to check. I am sure I didn’t order red cotton bondage rope and a leather flogger.”

Seokjin whipped his head around, face redder than a tomato, looking halfway between fainting and screaming.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is it for you or a mysterious imaginary girl that you’re dating?”

Now your best friend seemed to be contemplating holding his own breath until he passed out to avoid your questioning.

“I-It’s not for me!”

“Oooh, then who? You’re not an internet hookup kind of guy though… unless she was dumb enough to put her full name as her username, then she’s too airheaded to be a catfish–”

Seokjin flapped his hands, smacking you in your pajama-covered chest, sputtering. “No one! There’s no one! I just…!”

You caught one of his wrists, raising an eyebrow.

“Just?”

He froze.

Silence.

“… Seokjin?”

You left go of his hand. It stayed there, frozen in the air.

Ah, it seemed as if his soul left his body.

Rest in peace Kim Seokjin. You were the handsomest best friend one could ask for.

You prodded him in the side again and Seokjin doubled over, trying to cover his face with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt, long legs in black sweatpants curling up as if he could cocoon himself away from the conversation.

“Seokjin, you can be interested in whatever you want,” you snickered, placing the package next to his fetal positioned body. “I simply thought it was funny that you accidentally used my name. Although I wouldn’t use that flogger on a real person, only for posing in pictures. In any case, have fun being freaky by yourself and not for some mysterious woman you refuse to tell me about.”

You stood up, about to leave and give your best friend some space. You shouldn’t go too far teasing him after all.

“What do you mean?”

You stopped, looking back. Seokjin’s large brown eyes were peeking out of his splayed fingers, shifting awkwardly when you made eye contact. He cleared his throat. He was doing that a lot for someone who seemed perfectly healthy ten minutes ago, shrieking at himself for missing the ledge in his game and dying.

It had seemed like a good time to interrupt and embarrass him so you could save your eardrums.

He coughed and pointed to the box. “About the… um… whip… thingmabob…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You marched over and opened the box, making Seokjin jolt and cover his red ears instinctively, but you ignored him, pulling out the black pleather flogger you had already unwrapped from the plastic – purely from thinking it was your own package, by the way, no other reason, surely not because you were mildly curious about what your best friend was into, nope – and you slapped the short three tails into your hand, wincing.

“This kind of cheap material is too plastic-like. If you use this on bare skin and hit too hard, you’re going to cut someone and I know you’re squeamish around blood, unless you secretly have a blood fetish too and have been a really good actor all this time–”

“How do you know that?”

You blinked at his question.

“What?”

Seokjin sat up, giving you a confused pout. “Why do you know something like that?”

Now it was your turn to shift your eyes around.

“Uh…”

Er… how to tell your best friend that the younger guy you were casually fucking for the past couple of weeks was, ah, rather knowledgeable about certain things, was, um, interested in teaching, uh, yeah, teaching…

Seokjin squinted at you suspiciously. “Is it that idol trainee that was here two nights ago when I was out drinking with Hose–”

You waved your hands very quickly, tossing the flog aside carelessly and slapping your thigh to silence Seokjin and his far too invasive questions. “Look. I just don’t want you to hurt anybody on accident, okay? Your rope choice was good though. You should always use an organic material for shibari, cotton, hemp, linen if you’re rich, but you’re a cheapskate, so–”

Your best friend narrowed his eyes into slits. “How much younger is that guy compared to you again? Hm? And what was his name? Ye–”

You slapped a hand over Seokjin’s mouth, smiling sweetly and dangerously, reaching into the box and pulling out the red cotton rope.

“I know a lot of knots now and I can tie a noose just for you, Seokjinnie.”

Your best friend, rightfully so, looked terrified.

“Now. Let’s talk about you, okay? Okay.”

You removed your hand and held onto the rope.

Seokjin gulped, but then shook his head vigorously, frowning. “What did you call it?” He was already moving past your death threat. Smart man.

“Call what?”

“Shi-something?”

“Shibari? Japanese rope tying?” You lifted the cotton cord in your hand. “Is that not what this is for?”

Seokjin blinked very rapidly.

You blinked back at him. Then it dawned onto you. “The diamond-y rope patterns where they’re all tied up and stuff.”

“Ah! Yeah! That!”

“You want that done to you?”

Seokjin jerked to one side. “What? No! To someone else. Maybe. No. What?”

You slowly placed the rope on his lap and scooted away.

“Uh… huh. Okay. Enjoy.”

“Wait,” he blurted.

“What?”

“CanIpracticeonyou?”

“Can you WHAT?” you echoed shrilly.

“Right, yeah, okay, never mind–”

-

“Seokjin.”

Your best friend choked on his own toothbrush and threw himself into the bathroom wall, colliding into the towel bar and howling in pain while simultaneously hacking up a lung.

“I’ve decided I am going to teach you some simple knots to prevent me from having to pick your naked ass up from the police station or hospital,” you said calmly as Seokjin half-died on the floor tangled in your mint green and his navy-blue bath towels. “And because I don’t want to have to cut some poor girl off your bedframe because you’ve blacked out running onto your door trying to find me.”

“I’ve never–” he wheezed.

“But you will if I don’t take precautions,” you cut in, grabbing your purple toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it as Seokjin attempted to collect himself off the ground. “Like that one time you ran into the window when that wasp was in the apartment.”

“That was a fucking wasp, you freaked out too!”

You started brushing your teeth. “Yeah, but I didn’t knock myself out and wake up with a fat bump on my forehead. That was you,” you gargled.

“Ack…”

“Anyway, I know a few things and I figured I would do a good deed and enlighten you.”

“Who taught you? Was it Ye–”

You jabbed Seokjin forcefully in the ribs and he immediately shut up because he choked on his toothbrush again.

-

“Why do you have scissors?”

“For cutting the rope.”

“Yeah, but why are they so big?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Cool, now I’m gonna tie you up. Give me your hands.”

You unwound the end from the bolt and frowned, nudging his knee with yours. You were both sitting on his bed, him cross legged and you on your knees because he was wearing black sweatpants and you were wearing no pants, just your usual large lavender pajama shirt with a pattern of yellow stars.

“Take off your sweatshirt. It’ll get in the way.”

“But I’m cold.”

“You won’t be because apparently this shit turns you on,” you snickered.

“Shut up, it does not. It’s the other way around,” Seokjin grumbled, yanking his chocolate brown sweatshirt over his head.

You paused.

“I thought you were more sub.”

Seokjin froze, head half-out of his sweatshirt. You waited. He didn’t move. You waited some more. He coughed and chucked the article of clothing aside, yanking his white t-shirt down and smoothing his hair, not looking at you.

You waited.

He smoothed his hair for a full two minutes.

“Um, anyway–”

You planted a hand on his knee and Seokjin tried to chop your hand away, only for you to snatch his wrist, so his other hand came up to stop you, but you wound the end of the rope around his wrist and bounced off his mattress, pinning your knees on top of his knees and making him squeak as he tumbled back into his pillows, bringing you with him. You had to jerk your head out of the way to avoid collision.

“My nuts!”

“I didn’t hit your precious nuts, you numbsku–”

Hang on.

You locked eyes with Seokjin under you, who gawked back at you, absolutely terrified.

“… You are still a sub.”

Seokjin winced. “Ugh, it’s just… I’m getting older, alright? I can change my mind…”

You could get off him. You could let it be. You totally could.

But were you going to?

No.

You straddled his abdomen and brought his hands to his chest with a big grin. Seokjin’s eyes turned into giant brown saucers. He looked ready to pass out and not from your weight because you weren’t putting much weight on him.

“W-W-What are y-you d-doing?!” he shrieked.

You rapped him in the forehead. “Teaching. Pay attention. Hands up.”

“You aren’t taking your rings off?”

He was referring to the three silver rings you wore on a daily basis – an onyx stone on your left middle finger, a goat-head shaped ring on your right thumb, and a skull with a jester hat on your right ring finger.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do I need to take them off?”

He lifted his hands and gave you an exaggerated shrug in between your thighs. Come to think of it, Seokjin had a rather broad chest so you had to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate and hover over him.

Precarious.

“Ah, perfect.”

Your best friend yelped as you wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving the end sticking out between them, first focusing on loosely binding. He tried to break away, but you harshly squeezed his sides with your thighs, narrowing your eyes.

“Stop squirming.”

He froze at your cold tone, shifting his eyes awkwardly.

“Watch. Now.”

His eyes immediately snapped to your hands.

“Wrists together.” You nudged them so the inner parts of the wrists were touching. “A little space in the center,” you added, looping out the end of the rope. “I’m just teaching you how I learned it, there are a few ways, but the details are important so you don’t prevent loss of circulation,” you added seriously, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “So, wind it around a couple times, but don’t overlap. Four or five?”

“But I can still get out.”

You glared at him. Seokjin shut up and jammed his plush pink lips together, shaking his head rapidly as if to say, who me? I wasn’t talking!

“Turn it ninety degrees like this,” you demonstrated. “And start going perpendicular to and in between the wrists to create the binding. Line up each coil side by side. Mind the starting end here. Then…” You reached for the scissors and snipped the excess away, dropping the rope and scissors beside you on the bed. “You tie it off on the outside. I use a square knot, so this end over this end, and then retie it the opposite way. Try to break free.”

Seokjin frowned at the red rope around his wrists, twisting it this way and that, squirming underneath your legs. You put your hands on your waist triumphantly, nodding to yourself in pride. You did a good job! It looked neat and it was inescapable without tightening on any blood vessels to cause any dangerous loss of circulation.

Hang on.

Seokjin froze.

You froze.

You both looked down.

You smacked him in the cheek.

“Ow!”

“What are you looking there for?!”

“Why did you hit me? Why do you always resort to violence?!” Seokjin accused, jabbing you underneath your breasts with his bound hands. “What is going on down there?”

“Nothing! Stop moving!”

“No!”

“You–”

You closed your thighs around Seokjin’s waist and sat down on him, causing him to gasp, wind knocked out of him as his diaphragm was pushed up into his lungs, struggling with the rope between his wrists and resorting to slamming them down on the bed above his head. You growled as you towered over him. He started yelling, as he always did.

“Yah!”

You slapped your free hand over his mouth.

“Silence.”

He glared at you behind your palm, breathing hard. You sat on top of him, breathing just as hard. He was bigger, strong, yes, but not in the position of power and – being honest, after all – your best friend was never really out to fight you and win. He was more of a ‘I’m-going-to-be-stupidly-annoying-until-you-do-what-I-want’ type, which made him rather childish in some ways. You were more of the ‘I’m-gonna-beat-your-ass’ type.

In conclusion, it was a healthy friendship.

Seokjin started licking your palm and making crazy eyes at you.

Your eye twitched.

“Stop it.”

Unsurprisingly, he did not, in fact, stop it.

“I said, stop it.”

And you slid down, past the wet spot now on his t-shirt, planting your soaked panties on top of his crotch, grinding down, and, yup, Seokjin bucked and yelped, immediately stopping and seizing up as if he could hide the massive erection that you had been willing to ignore but he was being a little – nah, actually, an extra-large, supersized – shit and it was getting on your last nerve, so what better way to resolve a wordless argument (on his part, heh) then humping his hard-on?

You removed your hand and Seokjin had a brief moment to gasp your name before you slid the pads of your fingers onto his tongue, rubbing it roughly and making his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“I told you to stop, but you aren’t listening,” you snarled.

Seokjin whimpered, brown orbs glassy, pupils blown out.

You stilled.

Hold on a second.

You had a brief epiphany where you realized you were grinding on your best friend’s dick with him tied up and you were wetter than the Yellow Sea. This wasn’t some guy you picked up at the night market that won you that sleeping Pikachu at the claw machines, only to chat him up and end up with bed with a guy who was – ack, never mind his age – anyway, this was your best friend.

Kim Seokjin.

Oh shit, I’ve gone too far.

You let go, backing up. “S… Sorry, I–”

But then Seokjin’s plush lips closed around your fingers, sucking hard and you choked slightly, feeling his hips roll and the tip of his clothed erection hit your covered clit. He was glaring at you. You gasped as his teeth gently but firmly caught your two fingers. It did hurt, but only a little. Mostly it sent a rush of rather uncomfortable and mind-boggling arousal racing from your knuckles to your core, drenching your panties further.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled around your fingers.

Don’t stop?

DON’T STOP?

His teeth let go, panting, staring into your eyes.

“Don’t make this weird,” Seokjin muttered, shifting his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay?”

His brown eyes flickered back to you. His bound hands were still over his head, black hair flaring out of his pillows, white t-shirt messed up, still trapped between your thighs. You paused, fingers slipping out of his lips, the pads trailing on his lower lip, turning it glossy with his saliva.

Your heart was racing fast.

He furrowed his dark brows and, for the first time, his serious expression made you think that perhaps, maybe, there was a side of him down there, the other side to the coin.

“I just…” Seokjin exhaled slowly, not looking away from you. “I trust you to do this. You’re capable and knowledgeable. I know you are. Word gets around with your, er, habits with younger guys…”

You felt your cheeks heat and you scratched your head awkwardly.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you wanna… er… get off. With me. Because I’m so handsome and all.”

You were thiiiiiiis close to leaving out of sheer embarrassment that instantly dissipated at Seokjin’s sudden unexpected self-compliment. Instead, your eye twitched and you squinted in annoyance.

Seokjin coughed, ears singeing bright red. “Unless you can’t, of course. Because it’s easy to fall in love with me, and that would be very bad considering I don’t want to marry you–”

“I don’t want to marry you either,” you snapped. “You’re ugly.”

Seokjin gasped dramatically, highly offended. “How dare you–!”

He abruptly sat up and you twisted back, only for his arms to swing over your head and sandwich you between his tied wrists and his chest, ramming you back onto his lap and his hard dick. You hissed and bit down your moan, not willing to admit it was mildly turning you on, because of course neither you or Seokjin hated each other – only in that classic way best friends hate and love each other at the same time – and, yeah, sure, you could admit Seokjin was handsome and cute and fun to be around, but he wasn’t the one, not that you knew what the one was supposed to feel like or knew if you would ever feel such an intense, romantic love, but you had this strange idea that the one for you would be someone who could understand you on a different level, and you didn’t have that with Seokjin even if you did talk all the time. You were quite sure the feeling was mutual and now, looking into his brown eyes with a scowl, you saw that the feeling was indeed mutual.

Also, Seokjin was an immature shithead.

A loveable, worldwide handsome, immature shithead. Redeemable.

Still.

You were horny.

And Seokjin was horny.

You weren’t going to date Seokjin ever, but your best friend was hot as hell and you could definitely bang him without any regrets.

“Let’s fuck,” he breathed into your face.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Don’t make it weird, yeah, okaaay dude–

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when Seokjin kissed you.

His forearms closed in behind your back and he pressed his bound wrists into your shoulder blades, pushing you into his solid chest and his embrace, taking your breath away. He always had good hugs, even if they were just to comfort you when your favorite flavor of ice lollys stopped being stocked at your local grocery store – still tragic to this day – and even when he was clinging onto you like a howling monkey because a cockroach was in the bathroom and he was screaming at you to kill it and nearly blowing out your eardrums, even then…

Now.

You closed your legs in around his hips and rolled your crotch into him, suddenly kissing him back.

He gasped into your mouth, your eyes half-opening, him gazing back at you, long lashes and dark eyebrows and glowing tan skin, holy shit, your best friend was handsome as fuck, why did other men even try when Kim Seokjin existed?

“Are you falling in love with me because I’m so handsome?” Seokjin teased, nipping at your lower lip.

Your eye twitched. Oh, yes, that’s right, because you’re annoying.

You shoved him and he yelped, clutching your back as you both fell onto the bed with a flump! You slid out from under his arms, skin prickling at Seokjin’s involuntary whine at your departure. Don’t make this weird, yeah, okay, don’t turn me on this much, dumbass, you are reminding me of… You pushed the thought away.

You didn’t want to think about other people when the person you were touching was right in front of you.

“What are you – yah!”

You gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked down, exposing his underwear – bright blue, nice, nice – and his clothed erection, leaning in, hot breath ghosting over it, Seokjin jerking his arms about because he seemed undecided on either if he wanted to see or not see, but you let him deal with that in his own time, lowering your mouth, tongue extended, fingers splayed over his hips, silver rings glinting in his bedroom lights.

“You look like a demon,” you heard from above you.

You planted your tongue on the spot where the head of his cock would be and soaked it with saliva.

“F-Fuck!”

That shut him up real quick.

Your eyes drifted up, lapping slowly, barely stimulating the sensitive head through his underwear, closing your lips around it so the fabric clung wetly to the taut skin underneath. His cock swelled and twitched under your mouth; the action was mirrored by Seokjin’s jaw. He was clenching it along with his hands balled into fists, gasping for breath.

“O-Oh, f-fuck…!”

You were beginning to get the hint with each passing second of working your tongue around his rapidly hardening cock. Seokjin had put himself in the sub category when you asked back then because he liked to things being done for him. It was less about the mental aspect and more of the physical acts of service in his case. However, he wasn’t very good at articulating what he wanted and thus the natural pattern of someone just doing it led to, ah, exhibit A.

You currently parting your lips and letting your tongue snake out, coating the length with saliva.

But.

You could see it in his eyes, that burning intensity.

Maybe part of it was because it was you. He probably didn’t have those butterfly jitters of trying to woo a stranger or the nervousness of looking bad in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. There was already a level of comfort – and the ability to readily shit-talk each other at any moment – and so Seokjin was free to relax, even if it was a bizarre situation of sexual discovery.

“Take it off,” he growled.

Your fingers creeped up his sides, hooking over his boxer briefs. Slow, deliberate, kissing up his length, on the tightrope, dominant in your control, submissive in the action, raising your head so Seokjin could lift his hips, feathering kisses on the exposed skin and making him hiss and shudder, eyelids fluttering, slipping into subservience a little.

At the end of the day, who killed the unwanted bugs in your shared apartment?

Yeah, you.

“Oh, f… fucking shit…”

You tilted your head and ran your tongue up and down the length, licking up the sides and circling around the thick head, bordering on frustratingly soft, switching to wet, sloppy kisses when his hands raised, making him pause, gazing down at you curiously and attentively, entranced by the action. You ducked down, tongue slurping around his balls, lifting his cock, kissing, sucking, eyes closing, tip of your wet muscle drawing zig-zag patterns that soft skin.

Seokjin moaned your name.

A shiver of electricity went up your spine.

Alright, fine, you were getting turned on.

You wrapped your lips around his balls and enveloped them both with your mouth.

“Whoa!”

You opened your eyes to see Seokjin staring wide-eyed at you, hands straight up to stare at you between his upper arms. You almost laughed at the hilarious triangular-looking pose, but your mouth was currently full, so you restrained yourself.

“That’s possible?! You can put both nuts in your mouth at the same time?!”

Uh.

Where you supposed to respond with your cheeks stuffed with his nutties?

You hummed casually in response.

“A-Ah…!”

Seokjin gasped at the vibrations and the movement of your tongue slapping all over them, short, rapid licks all over his skin, watching him with a cocked eyebrow, but he didn’t even notice, hands dropping and moaning to the ceiling, his eyes closing and savoring the hot wet warmth and the power of your mouth, shivering as your hand slowly stroked his length in time with your tongue.

You let him bask in it before detaching and swallowing his cock.

“Gah!”

Seokjiinie, you thought wryly, we gotta work on your repertoire of sex sounds.

You spied him looking down at you, so you paused around the swollen head and slid your tongue out, circling and wrapping around his length while sucking on the tip and rubbing the back of your tongue along the underside.

Seokjin made a bunch of weird croaking noises that were, strangely, rather attractive. Okay, you could admit it. You were kind of a sucker for your best friend in the most platonic way possible… while in the middle of sucking his dick.

What?

He was handsome!

You began to bob your head up and down, tongue and lips descending, taking him deep so you kissed the base of his cock, head buried in your throat, waiting for him to glance down at you, hazy brown orbs under lush lashes, and you would peek your tongue out and lap at his balls, interrupting the tightness, causing him to swear and jerk his hips up, urging you to keep consistent speed and pace, all the while watching every single movement of your tongue. You kept this irregular pace, slow, then fast, then slow again when he looked at you, then fast when the ecstasy was too much and he closed his eyes, over and over. You could see that a battle was being waged Seokjin’s pretty head, between wanting to observe the lewdness of you licking his balls with his hard cock buried in your throat while also desperately needing to get to the fuck off.

“You… bitch… suck me off properly, fuck…”

You raised all the way so only the head was in your mouth and sucked, rubbing up and around it, swirling all over, teasing the slit and soaking the sensitive skin, rutting it against the roof of your mouth and Seokjin groaned, pressing his head back into the pillows, black hair covering his eyes, fists pressed to his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, let me cum!”

His hips rammed up and you dug your nails into them, wincing as the head hit the top of your throat and slid down, cutting off your air, and then he began to thrust erratically, the position, inability to use his hands as leverage, and your resistance not letting him set up a good rhythm. You had to force him back down, popping your mouth off, snarling.

“I’m gonna gag if you do that! You want me to vomit on your dick or what?”

But all of a sudden Seokjin sat up again, grabbing your pajama shirt and yanking you to him, saliva dripping down your chin and then it was on his chin, a messy, savage kiss, ravenous need in his actions, pulling you to him, close, closer, you twisting and then gasping as he pushed one of your thighs down, planting your soaked panties on the exposed part of his thigh.

“Ah, Seok–”

He attacked your lips again with a light growl, sparks shooting across your skin, his thigh rising and bouncing you both on the bed, his legs still tangled in his pants and underwear but the effect was undeniable.

Seokjin was making you ride his thigh.

Whoa.

He bit your lower lip and sucked hard, your eyes fluttering closed, hips rocking, heat turning hotter, wet turning wetter, your sticky, sweet juices clinging to his upper thigh, your own pressed against his saliva-covered cock, wrapping your arms around him, close, closer, you thrusting your tongue in his mouth and him moaning before he did the same to you, starting a tug of war, rubbing harder against his skin, his muscle tensing against your covered clit, friction and wetness everywhere, too many clothes and no eye contact, one of your hands slipping into his black locks and tilting his head, deepening the kiss and inhaling his exhale, shuddering at the erotic nature of the moment.

He mumbled your name against your lips, still clutching your pajamas, stars bunched in his hands, fingertips pressed into the curve of your breasts.

“Can I try the rope tying now?” Seokjin whispered, voice gravelly and low.

-

“Excuse me?”

There was a ripped-open condom wrapper sitting on the bed.

“What?”

Your pajama shirt, bra, and panties were on the floor, along with Seokjin’s shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.

“Why are you – gah!”

You sucked in a breath as you sank down on his cock. Fuck, it was tight, tight as you lowered yourself onto his hips, Seokjin gasping and clutching the long length of red cotton rope that you had carefully untied from his wrists. You had even taken the extra step to massage them afterward, not that he needed it because of your careful work – good job, past you – but he appreciated it all the same, because deep down Kim Seokjin was a prince.

“Oh my God, you’re so tight, shit, shit, shit…”

You neglected to tell your best friend that you were both low-key proud of and turned on by your own ability to take dick without much foreplay. That little edge of tightness added just the right amount of spice of pain that amplified to the pleasure.

Okay.

And yes, you felt a special kind of glee as you witnessed Seokjin’s stunned shock and near passed-out expression from being inside you.

You held out your wrists and grinned. “Go ahead. Tie me up.”

Seokjin gawked at you like you had three heads.

You squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, tilting your head with a devilish grin.

“God, you’re so hot, but you look crazy,” he wheezed.

Your grin dropped and your eye twitched. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or…?”

Seokjin shrugged, and moved your hands so they were in the better position for him. Much to your annoyance, he didn’t elaborate.

“Um, let’s see, you left a bit out to use as a tie and…”

You began to rock your hips.

“H-Hey!”

The side of your lips curved upward. “What? We’re multitasking.”

“We–?” Seokjin choked, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around his hard length, rolling your hips gently, adjusting until you found a comfortable spot so the head hit you in just the right spot, ah, yes, right there, spreading your fingers out over his chest, leaning your forehead against his, not quite going full force but a slow, deliberate rhythm that wasn’t going to make either of you cum, but, damn, did it feel good.

Seokjin shuddered, gasping your name.

“Tie me up, Seokjin,” you murmured back, caressing his skin.

His eyes darted up, saturated with lust, searching your eyes, and you gazed back.

You could be a real jerk right now.

His hot exhale washed over your lips, a shudder of nervousness.

But this was your best friend, and he was trusting you.

You tilted your head and kissed him softly, flush against his plush lips.

“Come on,” you nudged his nose lightly. “Do it.”

You viewed him from under your lashes. He shivered. Almost.

He needed only one more little push.

“Want you, Seokjinnie,” you breathed against his skin, hints of need and desperation in your voice.

A small smile danced on his lips, staring into your eyes.

You might have fallen for him a little bit in that moment.

“Okay.”

He kissed the side of your mouth, a teasing little peck, and you smirked, turning your head so you wouldn’t break the image you had created for him, but he was already looking down, busily occupied with your wrists, so you drew back, focusing instead on riding him, closing your eyes. You built a leisurely, pleasurable pace, leaning forward a bit to rub your clit against the base of his cock, sighing contentedly at the way he filled you, a wonderful, thick, satisfying girth that you could get used to, other than the fact that most of the time Seokjin drove you up the wall, but, hey, maybe if both of you reached a certain age and you were still single, maybe you could marry your best friend solely for having accessible dick…

“Ah! Perfect.”

You cracked open one eye.

And tried not to burst out laughing.

“Erm… well…” you coughed, tugging at the rope a little. It looked messy and rather hideous, parts overlapping and twisting awkwardly, but he had the… basic idea? It wasn’t like you were going to do anything dumb anyway, so it was pretty good for a first time.

Seokjin frowned. “I don’t know how you did it so neatly…”

“You line up the coils next to each other – ah!”

He seemed to think that was good enough and grabbed handfuls of your ass, causing you to tip forward and brace your hands against his chest, gasping as his hips thrust up into you, abrupt pleasure blooming up your core, sudden squelch of wetness between your joined hips.

“Come on,” he grunted, clenching his jaw, tone getting deeper and more dangerous with each word. “I have to get off, and now.”

He smacked his hands down on your ass and you almost whimpered.

Almost.

Seokjin drew back a little, giving you a strange look.

“W… What?” you managed to get out.

He tilted his head. “Do you like that?”

You almost said, no, of course not, but you stopped yourself, looking down at the red rope tied around your wrists, heat flaring in your cheeks, ass stinging slightly from his slap.

His cock twitched inside you.

Your eyes flickered up to him. A sly smirk danced on your lips.

“Yeah. I like the things you do to me.”

You saw Seokjin pause, brown eyes widening a little, black hair over his forehead.

You pushed him down on the bed. He gasped, but he was used to it now, gripping your ass and tipping his head back as you began to really ride him, waving your hips to ram his cock into your pussy, not even noticing the moan seeping from your lips, fuck, it was good, fulfilling and deep, your bound hands on his chest, fingers spread out and nails digging into his skin a little, but Seokjin seemed to be into it, his own nails sinking into your ass, pushing you down with every descent, hitting you harder, rougher, intensifying the pleasure, building onto it. Hot breath, warm skin, joined hips, loud slaps, rocking bedframe, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes, not quite seeing each other but drowning in the gratification, the roughness, gasping sharply as his open palm smacked down on your ass again, making it bounce and jiggle in his hands, your core and thighs squeezing tighter, witnessing his tight hiss of desire, mesmerized by your sound so he did it again, spanking the other cheek, and you did it again, whimper creeping out, arousal consuming his handsome features, intoxicated by your reaction to his action so he did it again and again, hard, stinging slaps as you rode his stiff, quivering cock harder and faster, fuck, Seokjin must be incredibly turned on because he was so fucking hard, just so incredibly sexy how hard he was right now, even the pain was nothing but an injection of added carnal pleasure, throwing your head back and sinking your nails into his skin, fucking him recklessly, forgetting about hiding your moans, who the fuck cared, not you and not him because Seokjin too was crying out, the sinful sound of sex echoing off his bedroom walls, except instead of you in your bedroom putting headphones on to drown him out, you were in his bedroom, doing it, fucking the daylights out of him.

Alright.

You could see why girls wanted to date your best friend now.

Seokjin was a loud dork, but he had a great dick.

“F-Fuck, Seokjin, fuck!”

He had a similar response, although it was more a choked garble of your name mixed with, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You must really be drunk on his dick because even that turned you on and tipped you over the edge.

Your thighs tensed and you moaned deeply, tucking your chin down and spreading your palms onto his pecs, wrists straining against the cotton rope, a rapid torrent of adrenaline soaring through you and then you smacked your ass down onto Seokjin’s crotch, whining as you came in vicious pulses of pleasure, clenching around his jerking length and you realized Seokjin was clutching your ass, pinning it down so you couldn’t move, shooting his release into the condom, so much that you felt his cock shudder and throb inside you, head buried in your deepest, most pleasurable spot, you feeling all of him and him feeling all of you.

Holy shit.

You almost saw stars.

“Hah… wow… I guess I can’t blame younger dudes for wanting this pussy…”

Your eyes weren’t open but your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Shut up, Seokjin.”

-

“Come on, man! Look what you did!” Seokjin barked accusingly, pointing to his chest with red indents of your rings.

“Excuse me? I’m the one who has scratches and a bruised ass!”

“You’ve marred my beautiful skin! I should fine you!”

“Where’s that fuckin’ whip – get your naked ass back here, Kim Seokjin!”

-

Hm, well, maybe you would find your true love some other time. Maybe try gambling?

--

masterpost

[get-shiggy-with-it]

collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

“I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you’ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.

[candygrlsworld]

Guide to my Style🍭🎀

Intro ♡

One thing about me is am the ultimate girly girl. Tomboy styles and insta baddie styles are cute but not me at all. I love lace, , frilly things, dresses, the color pink, rhinestones etc. Everything soft & girly I love!!! Now let’s start:

I love Pastel colors. But my signature color is Baby pink. And I love recreating or wearing fashions from the 70s 90s & Y2K. But recently I have been obsessed with nymphet fashions which is more remeniscent of the 50s.

As for motifs I love flowers (like daises but I hate floral print, it gives grandma vibes, ew.) I love hearts. Argyle print & plaid. (It’s very Cher Horowitz cute & preppy.) I love ruffle and frilly things & bows too.

My style icons are:

Cher Horowitz & Dionne Davenport from clueless (duh!)

Maddy Perez from euphoria season 1 (another duh)

Lolita from the 1997 film (I just like the fashion the contents of the film make me🤢)

Ashley banks

Chanel #1 and 2 in scream queens

Bratz dolls

Doja cat (sometimes)

Saweetie

& here are is a tik Tok I made that shows pictures of my style

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Hair ♡

I have been through a lot with my hair. When I was younger I permed it & a lot of my hair fell out so I wore braids & weaves for a really long time, to grow it back. Up until recently I have permed my hair again & have started wearing wigs.

I have never been a natural hair girl because my hair had fell out & it just wasn’t long enough to. Now of course my hair goes almost an inch to my shoulders. So as to my preference I love perm, ponytails & weave. It’s not that I want to be white or anything. It’s just that:

1. I get bored with braids. I do ponytail & buns etc. & once I run out of updos. I’m done with it.

And

2.I have never worn my hair natural. Idk how to take care of it. Idk how to style it. And idk what styles I would be able to do with my length. (But for the summer I wanna get clips ins and wear my natural hair out so well see how that works out)

So as for hairstyles. My signature would be two ponytails (long or short). And always swoop bangs and my baby hairs layed. And any hairstyle I wear has the swoop bangs & edges layed. Whether it’s one ponytail. Long or short and straight. If my hair is curled I usually just go for a middle part with my edges done. And if it is curled it’s body waves, or just curled on the ends. And the only hair colors I have done/would do are blonde and baby pink. Otherwise I like my hair black. I usually don’t like to wear my hair down unless it is body wave. I have always had a thing about hair in my face.

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Fashion ♡

My colors are white, baby blue, baby pink, lavender or pastel purple and black but I don’t really like black all that much but it is just an essential color.

I want to wear only skirts and dresses. But alas that is not possible for everyday (especially in NY winter.) So when I do wear pants I like them to be bell bottoms. Because I like the brats dolls silhouette. And the rest of my style goes along the lines of keeping that brats doll silhouette.

Essentials:

Bell bottoms

Graphic and/or plain baby tees/crop tops

Tennis skirts

Baby doll dress

Platform shoes

Matching sets

Tracksuits

Brands I shop at

Dollskill ( I buy second off Mercari & depop, because I don’t want to support them)

SHEIN

Amazon

AliExpress

Rainbow (it’s a store in NY some locations are better than others though)

Mandee (another store in NY)

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Nails ♡

For nails as much as I’d like to wear long ass nails. I simply cannot. I do a lot of sewing & art & I haven’t figured out how to do those things with long nails yet.

When my nails are long i love the decora type look. And I only like Patel colors. But really only wear baby pink & white. I like French nails (who doesn’t?) or just having them plain baby pink and short, same thing for my toes.

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Accessories ♡

Accessories are literally the key to a good outfit. They elevate the look so much. You could have the simplest outfit but if you accessorize it will look so put together!

I personally like y2k accessories

Hoop earrings

Little mini initial necklaces

Name plate necklace

90s hair clips

Butterfly clips

Belts (chain belts, black ones with the silver rings)

Knee high socks

Short ruffle socks ( I like to wear these with sneakers)

Statement jackets ( furs, leather, denim etc.)

[forever-rogue]

Sprinkle of Cinnamon

Summary | Another dull day at your coffee shop turns much better when an unexpected visitor becomes your favorite regular. 

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4k

Warnings | none

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sound of muffled voices - disjointed laughter, a few groans. The ticking of the aging clock on the wall above the front counter. Tick tock tick tock. The sound of the oven timer in the back of the shop. The scrape of pastry knives on cutting boards. The sip of coffee through a to-go cup lid. 

It had all become such a stable part of your life that you could have cried from boredom. Before your regularly scheduled 3:02pm sigh, the door opened, the bell above it twinkling merrily. Your eyes peeled up from your book in surprise at the sudden break in monotony. Casting a furtive glance at the door and stashing your book away, you tried to see who the surprise intruder was. 

Your breath immediately hitched in your throat as you peeked through the pastry case and noticed that it was a man - a very handsome one at that. He was tall and lithe, dressed in dark jeans, topped off with a black shirt and leather jacket. He whipped off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket as he looked around the small coffee shop. His eyes were a striking cerulean, contrasting nicely to his dark hair. Classically handsome and modernly well-dressed. 

Shit, shit, shit. Were you really just staring at him pathetically, hiding behind pastries instead of greeting him and welcoming him into your humble little shop?

“H-hi,” your voice. It actually cracked on a one-syllable little word. You wished the ground would swallow you up whole then and there. Rolling your eyes, you cleared your throat and tried again, “hi.”

“Hello,” he shot you a quick glance, a smile gracing his features as he held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. Was everything he did, or at least the two things you’d seen him do - pulling off his sunglasses and greeting you - attractive? Or was he just the first person under fifty you’d had come through in days? 

“Hi,” you repeated, already internally groaning as he laughed lightly and came over to you. He approached the counter slowly, taking everything in stride as he looked around the homely little shop. He looked like a god in this small space, making everything seem old and worn, “what can I get you?”

“Hi again,” he smiled lightly as he leaned against the counter, watching you with keen eyes. You felt a flush of warmth well up in your cheeks as you bit on your lip and stared at the top of the counter, “I don’t take anything special - but you do have a strong dark roast?”

“We do,” that much you could happily offer him. Making a cup of coffee should be an easy and simple thing, “do you take anything in it? A little bit of sugar? Some syrup or creamer?”

“No, thank you,” a little half smile, half smirk combo pulled on the corners of his mouth, “but whatever you have that’s strongest, I’ll take it black.”

“Black? N-no creamer or sugar? Why do you hate yourself that much?” you couldn’t help but blurt it out. As soon as you did, your hands flew to your face in embarrassment as he immediately broke into a fit of laughter. Oh no. This man was going to think you were an absolute clown - whatever chance you had of him thinking anything to the contrary was now long gone, “I-I-I didn’t mean it! I’m so sorry...I should haven’t-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted as he calmed himself down, “it’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, I’ve been asked that. You know, you just grow up with it a certain way, you get used to it.”

“Did your mother never let you try different creamers?”

“Something like that,” there was a huff of laughter as his tongue darted and wet his lips. You tried not to stare. It was a herculean task, “I’ll just take that - the largest cup. Ummm...any pastries you recommend?”

“I like the bear claws,” you shrugged lightly, still embarrassed by your earlier guffaw, “they’re always a good go-to. Do you like them?”

“Tolerable,” he admitted as you giggled lightly, “well then, I’ll take your largest and strongest coffee and a bear claw.”

“I thought you said they were tolerable?”

“I did,” he agreed, “but you recommended it and you look like someone I can trust. And besides that, they do actually look pretty good.”

“I do? They do??”

“You do," he nodded, “unless you’re doubting your own recommendations?”

“Not at all,” you offered up a confident smile of your own, “I’ll have it right up.”

"How much do I owe ya?" he pulled out his wallet but you quickly shook your head, playfully swatting his hand away.

"Its on the house," you insisted softly, feeling shy and nervous suddenly, "for bringing me the most amusement I've had in hours...probably days."

“I’ll get you back,” he grinned as he walked over to one of the empty tables facing the window. You tried to calm your inner squealing down as you watched him walk away, quickly facing the other way when once he sat down facing you. As you got to work on making his coffee, you could swear you could feel his eyes glued to you. But every time you sneaked a glance at him, you found him looking down at his phone, a little smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth. 

It wasn’t long before you finished his coffee and grabbed a fresh pastry from the back and slowly walked it over to him, a new flood of nerves welling up in your tummy. He was handsome - more so than should be allowed - and he looked slightly familiar. It was almost like you were positive you had seen him before, but just couldn’t place where. 

“Here you are,” you set everything in front of him with a flourish as he looked up at you and grinned, “if it’s good, I made it all, if it’s terrible, I wasn’t here.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” he promised, shooting you a wink as you offered a small wave and turned to go back to your station behind the counter. But before you could get more than a few feet away, you couldn’t help but spin on your heel as you faced him.

“Do I know you?” you blurted out, your face growing warm as soon as the words left your mouth. He seemed taken aback for a moment and his face flushed lightly as shook his head, “I’m so sorry, it’s just....you just look so familiar…”

“I think I’d remember if we’d met before. I wouldn’t forget seeing a face as pretty as yours,” he said softly. Completely turning the table as you tried not to completely melt into a puddle on the floor. You bit your lip before playfully rolling your eyes and walking away, “hey - what’s your name, coffee girl?”

You turned around and offered him your name before giving him a little mock bow, “but coffee girl works too, coffee purchaser - or do you happen to have a name?”

“Bu-James,” he quickly caught himself as you raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh too much. His face immediately turned a shade darker as he stared at his coffee.

“Well, Bu-James,” you teased with a wink, “it was nice meeting you. Enjoy your coffee!”

You darted away and to the back as you attended to the pastries that needed to be prepared for tomorrow. Your body was practically buzzing with exciting energy as you tried to focus on the dough and batters, rather than the nervous fluttering in your tummy. Funny how one stranger could turn your whole day around. 

“Silly girl,” you whispered to yourself, vainly attempting to ground yourself in reality. It was one stranger - albeit incredibly handsome and funny - and that was all. Nothing more and nothing less. As soon as he left he wouldn’t even remember the fool that brought him his coffee, Meanwhile, you knew he would be lingering in your mind for some time. A heavy sigh escaped your lips before you finally focused on your work. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a rainy afternoon, a completely out of the blue summer storm that had caused everyone to revel in the coolness while you were stuck working. It was even more boring than normal - if that was even possible. You cleaned over the same spot on the counter for the tenth time, glaring at it as you tried to eliminate it for good. 

“Hey coffee girl,” your heart practically did somersaults in your chest at the sound of the familiar voice. Be cool, be cool, you repeated to yourself several times before slowly turning to face the door. There he was - in all his golden glory, pulling sunglasses off and sticking them in jacket pocket as he approached, “just who I was hoping to see.”

“H-hey James,” you stammered nervously, dropping the rag to the side as you offered him a small smile. He strolled over at a leisurely pace before leaning on his elbows on the counter and resting his face in his hands. He watched you with a lazy little smile, “what are you doing here?”

“At a coffee shop?” he quirked an eyebrow at you in amusement, causing you to groan before the two of you shared a laugh, “I was thinking a coffee sounded good.”

“And does it?” you turned and gestured to the grinder as he nodded lightly, “coming right up. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be outside enjoying the nice summer rain?”

“I’ve seen enough rain,” he shrugged as he watched you work, admiring your deft hands and the concentrated  look on your face, “besides, there’s something I wanted to enjoy even more.”

“Oh? And what could that be?” you topped his coffee off with just a sprinkle of cinnamon, “it was the bear claw, wasn’t it?”

“That was pretty good, but that’s not it,” he promised as you handed him the coffee. He gratefully took the coffee and held it to his nose, taking a moment to smell and inhale the delicious scent, “maybe it’s the coffee girl.”

“Stop,” you grabbed the rag and playfully swatted his arm with it, “you don’t have to pretend to be all nice and what not to get the coffee. As far as I’m concerned, it’s on the house.”

“Even if that was the only reason I was here, what’s the reason for it being on the house today?” he leaned in even closer and you could practically feel the warmth of his body radiating onto you. Where his eyes even bluer up close? Was his smile really that magical? Shit. You were in deep and you’d barely even spoken to the man. 

“I highly doubt the shop will dismantle because of one cup of coffee-”

“Two.”

“Fine - two cups of coffee I’ve given away,” you mirrored his position and the two of you watched each other closely, “and besides, maybe the company isn’t too bad at all, James.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” he grinned as the tips of his ears flushed red, “I-”

Just before he could say anything else, the bell above the door twinkled and a small group of people clambered in. You wanted to groan and wished you could tell them to leave, but instead you tore your gaze away from James and to the new arrivals. 

“Sorry,” you murmured softly as he nodded in understanding. You straightened up and reluctantly made your way to the other side of the counter. Before he could leave, you stole another glance at your newly anointed favorite customer and shot him a shy smile. 

Bucky watched you for a few moments before taking his coffee and heading for the door. He caught your eye briefly before raising his arm and giving you a quick wave. You timidly raised a hand in response and crooked your fingers, reluctant to see him go. This had to be the one time you’d had a sudden influx of customers.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been several weeks since you’d last seen James. Fifteen days to be exact. Not that you were counting or anything. Things just hadn’t been quite the same since. Days seemed to drag on and no matter how many customers you had been getting, both old and new, no one was quite the same as him. Everyone was so average. 

Before the break in his regularity, he was making it a habit of coming every other day or so, even if it was just for a few moments to say hi and grab a coffee before heading out for work. You come to enjoy his presence, and getting to know little bits and pieces of him. You should have known better than to slowly fall for a regular customer. Sigh. 

It was a slow evening, and you’d made your rounds and checked on the few customers that were lingering in the shop, doing things such as studying or reading. You’d cleaned the bar and counters down a couple of times by now, and decided if you cleaned any further you’d wipe them away altogether. You pulled out a book you’d been wanting to get to forever, deciding you might as well make some use of your time.

“Slacking on the job?” you almost jumped out of your stool at the sound of the familiar voice, slamming your book shut in surprise, “sorry, coffee girl, didn’t mean to scare you!”

“James,” you immediately knew who it was from his warm chuckle as you clutched at your racing heart, “y-you didn’t scare me…”

“Hmm,” he was leaning against the counter, watching intently as you put your book away, “is that why you jumped out of your seat and almost threw the book at me?”

“Yup,” you agreed with a shy smile, mirroring his position, “definitely why.”

“You can admit you were scared,” he insisted, “you’re pretty cute when you’re scared.”

“Shut up,” you bit your lip as you studied the wood grain in the seemingly ancient counter. He nudged his elbow lightly with yours, causing you to turn your attention back to him. The two of you stared at each other quietly for a few moments, “you came back.”

“Of course I came back,” he said as if it were obvious he would. You had certainly had your doubts - after all, why would he waste his time coming back to a small little hole in the wall? He tilted his head to the side and gave you a curious look, “did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I...ummm...no, I didn’t,” you confessed quietly, “it’s just, you were gone for a few weeks and then...this place doesn’t exactly seem to fit your vibe is all.”

“I was...working,” he admitted, although judging by the use of the word working, you couldn’t help but wonder what he did, “and trust me, this place is much more my style than anything fancy or whatever you want to call it. I came back as soon as I could.”

“Whatever for?”

“Really?” he laughed as your face felt warm and you hid behind your hands, “maybe it was for the excellent coffee, maybe for the coffee girl.”

“You’re too much,” you said as you reluctantly met his eyes, “you want a cup? I can make you one…”

“I’d love some,” he nodded, “but only if it’s with whatever little thing you do to it.”

“A sprinkle of cinnamon,” you confessed as you pointed to the freshly ground cinnamon you’d prepped earlier in the day. A look of surprise crossed his face as he just grinned at you, “it’s my secret little go, if I didn’t tell you, you’d never know. But it just adds a little something.”

“It makes it-” he was quickly cut off by the loud vibrating of his phone. He rolled his eyes and sighed as you laughed before fishing it. As soon as he saw who was calling him, he sighed again and gave you an apologetic look before answering, “what?”

Your eyebrows shot up as you tried to hold back your giggles at his exasperation. You busied yourself with brewing him a fresh cup and tried not to listen in too much - you were curious but not nosy. Singing quietly under your breath, you had his brew ready in no time. When you turned around, James was looking at you with a guilty little expression. 

“Everything alright?” you set the coffee down in front of him as he gratefully took it.

“I have to go,” he confessed, and he actually seemed reluctant to do so, “it’s...work. It’s just...pretty important. I’m sorry...I wanted to stay.”

“Now you’re being crazy,” you insisted, although the idea that he actually came to see you, made your heart skip a few beats, “go and take care of something much more important! If you need a cup of coffee once in a while, you know where to find me.”

“Ahhh, I like you coffee girl,” he reached into his pocket to attempt to get his wallet out. As usual you shook your head and pushed his hand away, “fine. Alright. Let me give you something else instead.”

“Okay, now that sounds a little creepy,” you laughed as he realized his gaff. His face turned a light shade of pink as he reached for a napkin and the pen behind the counter. He quickly scribbled something down as you had a feeling you knew exactly what it was. But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself…that was for later.

“Here,” he said softly as he pushed the nap towards you, “that’s my number - obviously. I...umm...if you ever want to talk or whatever, you can...yeah.”

“I’m pretty sure I can figure out what a number is for,” you shot him a wink as you grabbed the napkin and pulled it closer. Your heart was practically hammering in your chest at this point, “I'll see you around, James.”

“See you around, coffee girl,” he said softly as he waved his coffee cup at you and started to head to the door, “have a good night.”

“You too,” you said softly as he left under the twinkling bell of the door. You watched him walk away through the windows, sighing wistfully. He came back. He gave you his number. Holy shit. 

You looked at the napkin and the number he wrote. It all seemed normal until you saw that he had written his name. Except it wasn’t his name. 

Instead of James, it said Bucky. 

Who the hell was Bucky? 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You paced around your apartment as you stole furtive glances at your phone. To text him or not to text him? That was the question. 

It had been almost four days since he’d given it to you. You wondered if he thought about you. If he was wondering why you hadn’t reached out to him. Your stomach churned with guilt.

After he gave you his phone number, you’d gone home and googled it, along with both the names you now knew him by - James and Bucky. With just those few bits of information, it wasn’t hard to figure out who he really was. You were almost positive that he didn’t tell you his real identity for fear of you freaking out or being afraid of him. But you weren’t afraid - you had no reason to be. You just wished he would have told you in the first place, but you understood his reasons. 

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you snatched up your phone and decided to just text him. Why not? There was literally nothing to lose. You might as well see where this went.

Hey James. Or do you prefer Bucky? It’s Coffee Girl. 

As soon as you sent the text, a sense of regret welled up in your belly and you groaned heavily. You tossed your phone onto the couch and headed into the kitchen to get a glass of wine. Anything to occupy your mind as you tried not to think about all the possibilities of what he could say in response. Or not. Perhaps he wouldn’t text you back at all. 

You weren’t sure which possibility was worse. 

Pouring the rosé with a heavy hand, you slowly filled your glass. Once you were satisfied with it, you took a long drink and refilled what you had just consumed. Your heart almost stopped when you heard your phone buzz from the couch cushion. 

You took another long drag from the wine and almost ran into the living room. You picked up the phone and excitedly saw that it was indeed from James...Bucky? You had saved him as James Bucky in your phone for the time being. 

Opening his message, you quickly read it, finding yourself grinning from ear to ear. 

Ahh, I gave myself away, didn’t I? Bucky. Call me Bucky.

You didn’t even bother to wait to send a message back: Okay Bucky. You did. Were you going to tell me or was I always going to have to figure it out on my own?

You wondered if you pushed him too far. Too much. But his reply suggested anything but.

I was going to tell you, believe it or not. I just wanted to make sure it was the right time. I didn’t want you to worry or hate me or be scared.

I’m not scared, I promise. Just wondering how I got to be lucky enough to be your coffee girl. 

Now you just felt like a stupid fool at your vain attempt at flirting. Cringe. You wanted to curl up and pretended that none of it ever happened. 

But to your continued surprise, he texted you back.

And then some more. Until the very late hours of the night where you reluctantly had to tell him goodnight for the time being before you fell asleep. 

It was okay, because somehow you’d managed to get a date out of it. You had an actual real life date with Bucky. Shit. How on earth were you going to survive that?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky was nervous. Gods, when was the last time he ever felt this nervous? He couldn’t even remember. He had a small bouquet of flowers in his hands as he waited for you in front of the small restaurant you’d picked for dinner. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he looked at the time. You’d be getting there any moment. He’d been there for fifteen minutes. Wanting to be early, and also because he was nervous. Mostly because he was nervous. Ugh. He was almost tempted to run away and head home, just because he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. But he also really wanted to see you again too. 

“Hey Bucky,” the sudden sound of your voice almost made him jump as he turned around to face you. A smile quickly spread on his face as he drank in the sight of you; you were wearing such a simple dress, nothing too fancy, but you still managed to take his breath away. You snorted lightly when you noticed his silence, “you alright there - cat got your tongue?”

“No, I-I...hi,” he held out the flowers to you and you eagerly told them, inhaling their sweet, saccharine scent, “these are for you.”

“Thank you,” you said softly as you offered him the sweetest eyes he had ever seen, “they’re beautiful. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before!”

“I think it’s time we change that,” he said softly as you tried to conceal some of the excitement off your face, “I’m glad you came...I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

“There was never a doubt,” you promised, “even if you had told me who you were right off the bat. See, I knew you looked familiar!”

“It’s a lot for people,” he admitted, “a lot of people just see the -”

“Bucky,” you interrupted him softly, “I just see Bucky. The handsome, funny man that made my day the instant he came in. That’s all.” 

“You’re something else, sweetheart,” he said softly as you reached for his hand, “you sure want to do this? You can still say no.”

“I want to Bucky,” you promised firmly, “how about we get inside before you change your mind and run off on me? Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“I’m all in,” he agreed softly, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“Me too. All in.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[thegardenandthegrave]

There is something so fucking special about growing up and claiming or reclaiming the parts of yourself that you shoved down because society expected you to.

I grew up in a strict religious setting, desperate to keep my parents happy and prove I was just as gifted as they said I was.

And I know a lot of people have grown up that way. And there are still people being raised that way.

I remember watching Avatar The Last Airbender the summer I turned 18 because it had been forbidden for religious reasons. That damned show had nothing evil in it but it felt so rebellious to watch that I had to wait until I was an adult before I did it. I felt so ashamed hiding behind my laptop with my headphones in, jumping at every creak in the house.

And I've been on the outskirts of DnD groups since I was 13 but I only started playing last summer at 29. That's 16 years of communal storytelling and community and joy I missed out on.

Not because I thought it was wrong, or evil, or something I wouldn't enjoy. Because I had held on so damn hard to the identity that I had formed in my formative years that I just assumed it 'wasnt for me' and completely ignoring how envious I was of those who did play.

And I almost dated my (female) best friend the year after graduation, but we were renting a room out if my mom's place in a new city neither of us knew enough about to really be independent. And my mom caught us holding hands one afternoon, actually the very first time we were holding hands and blushing at each other and working up the courage to talk about it. . We didn't get the chance before my mom found an excuse to get me alone and then furiouslydemanded to know what was going on and saying the kind of words that aren't commonly spoken unless they're being used in a reclaiming way these days.

I spent the rest of the summer basically overdosing on melatonin from the near constant panic attack, wishing I knew how to get something stronger to numb myself out, and pushing this kind and gorgeous girl away so much she moved back to our hometown and we haven't talked since.

And when I was fifteen I looked up to my uncle so much and wanted to hang out with him all the time because he's be playing video games and listening to black sabbath and metallica. But I knew that was a boy thing, that girls weren't supposed to be into that. Especially not well mannered, straight A, college bound kids like me. I remember hearing adults talk about how his music was garbage and he needed to grow out of it and I spent that summer reading books in my room and pretending I wasn't also listening to the music through the walls.

But today, a month out from turning 30, I started playing a black sabbath song I thought I remembered from back then and I started bawling my eyes out because I liked it SO MUCH and it was so different from everything else.

And I reminded me of the all the times I passed on hanging out with friends at a local concert or begged off early from a hangout because the music wasn't appropriate. Wasn't something I out to like and so of course I hated it.

And at the end here you might be thinking this post is about regret and nonconformity and the 'cult shelterd gifted kid' to 'twenty-something burnout' pipeline.

And maybe it is all about that. But it's also about how today I'm editing a paranormal lesbian romcom series, plotting a very queer centric high fantasy, and incredibly open to everyone in my life about my bisexuality.

It's about how fucking excited I am to be turning 30 and finally getting to jam out to these songs, share that love of music with my uncle.

How I can watch whatever I want and decide for myself if it's good for me or not.

How I can discover how boring I find playing a sorcerer and just multiclass into a rogue and my DM will just roll with it because it turns out I'm not entirely a sorcerer and I'm not entirely a rogue.

I'm a little bit of both, and I've finally got the confidence to explore those parts of myself without shame, without listening through a thin wall or watching a show in secret, or pushing anything away that brings me joy.

Turns out growing up isn't the worst thing in the world and maybe it's actually a little fun.

[imagine-that-100]

Why No Answer? | Part 2 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’re woken up in the middle of the night to find Alex drunk and high on your doorstep. Looking after him proves to be a tiring and revealing ordeal.

Word Count: 12.8k

Warnings: Angst (from the past) but lots of fluff.

A/N: So this was requested by the lovely @psychkunox​, really hope you enjoy this. I don’t know what happened, but I got very carried away with the word count yet again sorry about that ahha. I would recommend watching the Restaurant scene from When Harry Met Sally either before or after you read. It’s quite comical and will give you more context. Anyway though, Likes, Reblogs, and Feedback is always appreciated, but thank you all for reading, I really hope you all enjoy xx

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Read Part 1: | Here | 

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“Al stop.” You scorn him in a whisper as he once again kisses the back of your neck as you stand in the queue for Space Mountain.  

You really tried not to indulge in the feeling of his lips on your skin because it was an extremely addicting sensation. But you were in public, in Disney World of all places where everyone had their phones and cameras out, and the band were all standing in front of you in the queue.

“Alex.” You whisper shout again and pull yourself out of the hold he had on your hips when you felt him do it again.

You turn around and shake your head when you note the mischief in his eyes and the slight smirk gracing his pretty lips. You wanted nothing more to have them on your own in such a beautiful place but that couldn’t happen since you both decided you wanted to keep your relationship between yourselves for a while longer.

You were their photographer which meant that you didn’t want things to get weird with them on tour. And after you and Alex both decided to keep your relationship on the downlow when you initially started going out with each other, you sort of wanted to keep it that way, so nothing changed the dynamic of your group.  

You were only 2 years younger than Matt and Alex, 3 years younger than Jamie and Nick, so you’d always been pretty close with them all. You thought of them all as your brothers as you were growing up as Alex had gone to the same primary school as you and Matt and they had been best mates since the beginning.

They met Jamie and Nick in High School along with Andy who was obviously initially in the band, before he stepped down and Nick took over. They had always been your family who’d taken good care of you and you knew just how lucky you were to have them all.

But obviously to them you’d always been Matt’s little, and sometimes annoying, sister. When they were 14/15 they all wanted nothing to do with you and you were certain Alex had hated you once upon a time, but that might have been because you were a 12 year old who’d started growing up having crushes on all of your brothers friends.

Thankfully they didn’t disown you completely as when you reached the less annoying age of 15, they didn’t seem to push you out as much. You liked hanging out with all of them, and you saw them more because they always had to come to your house because Matt couldn’t move the drum kit unless it was for a gig.  

You’d always liked music as it had always been an escape for you. Like when the band were first starting out when you’d go up to your bedroom to escape the utter shit music they were making, and you’d have your Pulp and Blur records on.

There was a new band you actually introduced them too at the time which was The Strokes, which is comical in hindsight because if you’d never told Alex and Matt to listen to that record when they caught you humming along to Barely Legal, you weren’t sure Alex would have had the motivation to keep the band going and get it as big as they had become.

It wasn’t a secret that Alex’s hero was Julian Casablancas.

A few years later the band was getting bigger and the excitement in your household at them potentially making it big was intense. So much so that your Mum and Dad threw a party for them all when they got scouted and got the record deal.

It was at that party that Matt and Alex drunkenly agreed to let you be their photographer as soon as you were done with your photography apprenticeship. It was something they never forgot though and they did actually let you become their photographer.

So as soon as your apprenticeship finished in the summer of 2006, your 18-year-old self joined the lads on their tour. To say it was a dream come true would be an understatement.

Both you and Matt had loved photography your entire lives, stemming from when your Grandma bought you both a digital camera each one year for Christmas. Since then, it’d become your passion and your plan was to be a photographer anyway.

But being the photographer for Arctic Monkeys meant that you got to travel the world and see places you never thought you would, and you never got home sick because you already had your family around you.

You honestly adored your job.

In the breaks between their tours and them writing new material you would take other photography jobs in the years off, but that didn’t really happen for the first four years of them all being big.

Alex asked Domino if you could do their The Age of the Understatement tour too which you were surprised by, but of course you did it. A job was a job and you weren’t going to turn it down just because your brother wasn’t there.

Usually on the tours you’d stay in a separate bus from the lads because after the first week into the first tour you joined them on you saw what an absolute shit tip they all created. They were all revolting and all typical lads, being messy, every other sentence was a sex joke, and they were just revolting creatures.

To you it was genuinely a surprise they actually showered after every gig.

But thankfully with the years passing and being on tour busses became a constant for them instead of something new and exciting, they all got better. So, their Suck It And See tour was the first full tour you’d actually stayed in the bus with them.

Although sometimes you wished you hadn’t because that tour was where he met Breana and you definitely heard things you’d never want to hear again. You don’t know how the other lads weren’t scarred from the noises that came out of Matt’s bunk those nights.

All you had to say about it was thank god for earphones and ear defenders.

But you think it was on that tour that you started getting closer to Alex and the other lads. Mostly due to Matt being a love stuck puppy who spent most of his time with Breana but also because you didn’t want to burden him with your emotions.

About a month before the Suck It And See tour started in the February of 2011, your arsehole of a boyfriend texted you saying that he didn’t want to see you anymore. He was an arsehole for doing it over text and then not answering your calls afterwards, but he was an even bigger arsehole for getting with who you thought was your best friend as soon as the tour started.

Matt and the lads obviously knew about the breakup but due to them all having no social media none of them knew what your best friend had done to you. So, you cried about that betrayal in your bunk at night when you knew everyone else was asleep and you cried when you found moments of solitude.

They had enough going on with interviews and tours and you didn’t want them to burden them with your issues too. But that stopped when Alex walked in on your crying in the back lounge of the bus about a month into the tour.

Your ex best friend had just posted a picture of her and your ex who you still had the misfortune of having feelings for and you just crumbled. When you saw it you just couldn’t bear the thought of being around anyone else, so you slipped out of their presence and cried your way back to the tour bus.

Thankfully no one followed you in your time of crisis which meant that you got your uncontrollable sobs out of the way alone. But of course, someone came back to the bus and found you.

And that person was Alex.

He’d come back for another pack of fags needing the extra nicotine in the hours before a show. But all thoughts of that stopped when he heard crying come from the back end of the bus.

He walked past the bunks and opened the door into the back lounge to find you sat on the floor with your head buried into your knees and sobs were ringing in his ears. His heart dropped at the sight.

“Y/N what's wrong?” Alex asks, rushing over to you.

And when you didn't answer he called your name again. “Y/N?”

But you just shake your head and continue sobbing into your knees. So he begs, “Please talk to me, love”

He was kneeling down beside you, his hand coming to the back of your head as if to slowly coax you out of your hiding stop. And after stroking the back of your head for a minute, your head rises from your hiding spot but your eyes remain shut and you continue to sob.

Alex tries his best to coax you out of your sobs but you’re pretty much hyperventilating in front of him. After another one of the longest minutes of Alex’s life he manages to get you to slow your cries enough for words to fall from your lips.

“My life’s falling apart” You sob, still refusing to look at him. Your breathing is better but still erratic when you continue to tell him in a pain stricken voice, “I can’t carry on crying myself to sleep like this every night... I- I just want to feel normal again”

“What’s happened? Why are you upset?” Alex begs for you to tell him, ripping the tears from under your eyes.

The only thing that comes to mind is your previous relationship, so Alex asks, “Is it about your ex?”

You nod, tears still pouring down your eyes, “He’s taken everything Alex... My life is fucking ruined”

“No he hasn’t Y/N. You’re here, you’ve got us” He tries to assure you, but you just shake your head.

After a second you open your watery eyes and Alex can see how much pain they hold. They somehow contain even more when you speak the words out loud, “He’s going out with Y/B/F.”

Even Alex’s blood runs cold when he hears that. His words almost get caught in his throat when he asks, “What?”

You nod, sniffling a bit and wiping your own tears from your cheeks when you repeat, “He’s going out with Y/B/F.”

“Please tell me you’re joking” The words fall from his mouth before he can stop them.

You and your best friend had been together since day one, like you’d practically been friends since birth. You were practically sisters.

It was only the odd time Alex would come to yours and Matt’s house growing up and Y/B/F wasn’t there with you. You were the annoying girls he couldn’t escape.

Not that he still felt like that as you yourself had become a really good friend but back when you were 12 you were both so fucking annoying. But everyone knew that your and Y/B/F came as a pair.

You were the best of friends, and completely inseparable.  

“I don’t think I’d be on the floor crying if I was joking Alex.” You whine, trying your best to stop your tears now someone else was with you.  

You nod towards your phone that you threw on the sofa when you walked in the room and say, “Just look”

So Alex does. He takes your phone off the side and unlocks it knowing your password was your birthday and he quickly puts the numbers in and watches as it unlocks.

And his heart sinks at the proof that lays in his hands. There on the screen he can clearly see the picture of your best friend and your ex-boyfriend quite clearly together.

They were posed in the way couples typically posed for pictures and then there was another of them at the same party and they stood kissing, and Alex found it repulsive.

“This isn’t okay.” Alex looks up from the phone to see your head no leaning back against the settee, tears falling freely down your cheeks now.

You make no effort to look at him when you say, “I know.”

“Why didn’t Matt tell me?” Alex asks, a little confused.

Surely this was something that was to be at least hushedly whispered to the people closest to you.

“Because he doesn't know.” You say simply.

“Why?” He asks, locking the phone so you didn’t see the pictures again.

You told Matt everything these days. There was no point in secrets between you as you were adults and you cared for the other’s well-being.

You’d always been open with each other, minus the time that you went out to a party when you were 16 and came back with a series of love bites on your neck. All of the lads had been really shocked when you walked in a little bit tipsy with those on your skin.

Matt had been furious and a little disgusted knowing someone had been touching you in a romantic sense. So, it was no surprise to the other lads that when you were questioned on if something more happened, you pressed your swollen lips together and slipped up to your room denying that anything else had happened.

It was comical because it was clear to everyone else that it had gone further than someone kissing your neck.

Everyone took the piss out of Matt that night saying that someone had just taken his sister's virginity and it left the drummer mortified. But you always denied it to the full band until about 6 months later when Alex had asked you in the kitchen if you were actually lying or not.

Of course, Alex didn’t actually tell any of the others when you confirmed what everyone already knew. But that was the last time you’d ever lied to your brother.

So, hearing that your brother didn’t know about this shocking and frankly disgusting news in your life was concerning.

You looked up towards your brothers’ best mate and told him the truth, “Because I can’t ruin his time with Breana…”

You had to trail off because the lump in your throat was getting too much. So you swallowed it away before continuing, your voice still pained, barely above a whisper, “He really likes her and he doesn’t need to be worrying about me... She could be the mother of his children for all we know... I’m not ruining that chance because my life has fallen apart.”

“He’d understand Y/N/N.” Alex told you, once again leaning forward to wipe away your tears.

You shake your head, “It’s not fair.”

“And you think what’s happened to you is fair?” Alex questions, knowing full well that it wasn’t.

No one deserved this type of betrayal. Especially you.

You just started weeping again then and Alex brought you into his arms, needing to console you in a hug. Thankfully you didn’t resist his hug and Alex let you cry into his shoulder as you clung to him.

After a while of him rubbing your back and whispering you sweet nothings, he had to tell you, “You could have told me Y/N/N.”

You shake your head into his neck then, Alex could still feel the tears falling onto his skin. He just about hears you say into his shoulder, “You’re happy with Arielle, I don’t want you dealing with my shit either.”

“Your family, what hurts you hurts me” Alex tells you, “You’ve always got me Y/N… Always.”

After another five minutes of you both on the floor, Arielle walks in and is immediately worried seeing you sat on the ground crying into Alex’s arms. Alex just politely asked her to go and get Matt though which she did, and you didn’t oppose it.

You couldn’t deal with that on your own any longer and you were thankful for Alex being so kind to you. Your heart just fully melted in your chest later on after everything had been explained to everyone and he pulled you aside and gave you another big hug.

He whispered to you, “You’re going to be okay Y/N/N.” before placing a kiss to the top of your head.

The rest of that tour was filled with him making sure you were always okay and so did the other lads. But maybe it felt more personal to you when Alex checked on you because he was the one that found you.

It was him that just told you to cut them from your life completely and block them on everything as ‘they weren’t good enough for you anyway’. After you did that you felt better about your life. You’d cleared them from your Instagram, leaving no trace on your page that they were ever in your life and it was a difficult purge, but it definitely helped you in the long run.

The years without them in your life were tough but it had proven to be for the best in the end.

Because once upon a time you thought you were going to marry your ex-boyfriend, but now you were standing in Disney World with your boyfriend trying to steal kisses from you. And you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You give your boyfriend of 4 months a warning look, but his eyes just held mischief. You had to remind him, “They are going to see.”

“Then let’s go somewhere else.” Alex says moving back towards you, and ushering you to move up the line a bit.  

“After this we’ll try and escape.” You promise, but he was really shit at turning you down and you wanted it to be believable. “But you have to actually pretend you don’t wanna go.”

He rolls his eyes but sighs, “Fine.”

After Space Mountain you announced to the lads that you wanted to go see the Disney characters next which they all groaned at. You first of all pleaded with Matt to come with you knowing he wouldn’t before the rest of the lads and one by one they all dismissed you.

The last person you asked was Alex and he surprisingly put up a good fight until you ‘wore him down’ and got your own way. You spent the rest of the afternoon going round with him and getting pictures of the both of you with the characters and you got a nice lady to take a  few pictures of you both outside the castle.

Those were your favourites, especially the one where he was kissing you.

As you were walking back to meet the others who were already back at the bus, you felt the need to tell him something which you’d yet to say. You didn’t think you’d find a better time than walking hand in hand in front of the Disney castle after one of the best days of your life.

So you pause your walk back for a moment to kiss him one last time before you make it back to the others. The kiss was sweet, just like the whole day had been, and you definitely felt like it was the right time to say, “I love you Alex.”

Immediately a smile found its way onto his lips, and he was practically beaming with joy. “You love me?” Alex asks you in a little disbelief.  

“Yeah…” You nod, a massive smile on your lips “A lot as well.”

Alex leant down and kissed you again then, this time though his arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off your feet, spinning you around in his arms. It caused you to giggle into the kiss a little but you loved it.

When your feet touched the ground again Alex told you, “I love you so much Y/N”

“I know.” You grin as he’d already told you once before.

Alex just chuckles at you, “Alright Han Solo” which made you giggle.

“I love you more than anything Al, thank you for making me happy.” You tell him wrapping your arms around him, needing a tight embrace just so he knew you meant every single word.

His arms obviously snake around you, making you feel secure in the warm hug. And your heart melts once more when he kisses your head and says, “I love you more Angel, thank you for letting me make you happy.”

~*~*~*~

“Al.” You said attempting and failing to pull away from the kiss he’d trapped you in.

If you were honest, you really weren’t really putting up much of a fight to stop the kisses. You were in one of their many tents that this festival they were performing at had given them.

There was one for chilling out in, one that was essentially a bar, and a few more you’d yet to explore. But Alex had pulled you into one with the mass of beanbags in it and he wasted no alone time to have his lips connect to yours.

“Yes baby?” He says in his low voice and you could hear his hunger for you in his voice before he kissed you again.

It made your stomach flip as you knew exactly what he was thinking as you’d heard his voice like that many times since you started seeing each other. You both had to show some restraint though as anyone could walk into the tent, there was only a flimsy curtain between inside and outside.

You pull on his hair to make him pull away as you couldn’t do it yourself as he’d trapped you between him and a beanbag. Once his soft lips parted from yours, you told him seriously,  “Wait until the hotel.”

“But I want you now.” Alex then pouts at you, confirming the explicit thoughts that were running through his head.

You tell him truthfully, finding his pout very cute, “And I want you, but I’m not shagging you in a tent.”

“Why?” Alex questions, looking around for a moment before his gorgeous brown eyes meet your Y/E/C ones again. He chuckles, “It's a really posh tent.”

You guess it was too post to actually call it a tent. It was huge for a start and looked very expensive. You definitely felt privileged to get to experience all of this with him and the band.  

“Hun you had me all last night...” You shake your head whilst smiling like an idiot, “You can retrain yourself until we get back.”

“Not easily.” He pouts again and it makes you giggle which he once again finds adorable.

Another kiss is exchanged then but you don't let it get to what it just had been like. You stop it after he tries to distract you and deepen it again but you’re having none of it.

“You need to go or there gunna be like ‘what’s he doing in there?’” You say knowing he’d be asked to drink with them sooner rather than later.

Alex smiles knowing you’re right, but he chuckles when he tells you, “You know we have to tell them at some point, right?”

“Yeah I know, I just want as much of this tour to be as normal as possible.” You say, aimlessly stroking your fingers up and down the short hair on the back of his hair. You grin when you say, “I’d like to escape Jamie’s jokes for as long as possible.”

Alex just laughs then before he pecks your lips once more. “I don’t blame you Angel… But you can handle yourself. We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” You smile, feeling very content in this moment that you had with him. “I love you Al.”

“I love you too.” He tells you before he steals another kiss and gets himself up. “Do you want a drink?”

You shake your head whilst you get yourself comfy on the beanbag, also reaching to the nearby blanket to cover yourself with. “Nah, I’m good thanks. I’m gunna have a nap before the show.”

Alex smiles at you then, turning back towards you when he gets near the curtain to leave. He just stops by the curtain that divides him from outside and when he sees you getting curled up under the blanket.

He can’t help but nod and say, “Yeah.”

“Yeah what?” You ask looking back up to him standing there grinning at you.  

Alex nods down at you in your cosy spot and continues, “Yeah, you were definitely meant for me.”

You grin like an idiot then before you tell him, “Love you baby.”

“Love you too.” Alex smiles and sends a wink your way before he heads out of the tent.  

You can’t help but shut your eyes and snuggle into your new ‘bed’ with a massive grin on your face. But when you hear Miles say, “Oi Al, you dickhead. Come and have a shot.” you just start giggling.

~*~*~*~

You were absolutely plastered, and it was really making Alex laugh. Even more so than it usually would because you were trying your best not to be obvious that you wanted his affection.

You were a clingy drunk which was absolutely fine, and all the lads knew that, but watching you slip up around him and having to make up for it with the other lads was really comical for Alex.

You’d just come over to Alex after you’d beaten him at pool and teased him for being shit. To which Alex was shooting digs back at you but all you did in response was laugh, call him a sore loser and ruffle his perfect hair up which you knew annoyed him.

So Alex had just forced your hands out of his hair by grabbing your wrists and stopping you from doing anything more. He gave you warning looks like he would have done any other time you annoyed him before you got together but you also noted the looks as a reminder of the secret that you’d set out.

That was what led you to sitting on Jamie’s lap and talking his ear off about Katie whilst playing with his wavy hair. He threatened you to get off it, saying he’d cut it all off which you at first drunkenly pleaded with him not too but then you changed your mind saying he could definitely pull off a Peaky Blinders cut.

Once off Jamie you went on to have some flirty banter with Miles as Nick and Jamie played pool. Alex was watching you with an amused look on his face as his best mate was teasing you about not being on the pull whilst being in a bar with everyone.

You came back with things like, “Aw Miles, I couldn’t do that to you. I know you’d cry yourself to sleep if I entertained anyone elses flirting besides yours.”

Alex also found your laugh adorable when Miles kissed you on your cheek and Matt told him to leave you alone and to stop flirting with you. It was times like that that made Alex glad his best mate didn’t know about the two of you yet.

But after Nick’s game of pool finished and Nick won, he was calling it a night, despite it being relatively early. It seemed that you knew your tolerance though and decided to head back to the bus with Nick.

So you then went around the other 4 lads who were staying and made a bit of an effort to kiss them all goodnight, Alex presumed so you could kiss him. Something which proved to be correct because you came to him last after kissing all the other lads, including your brother, on the cheek and came to give him one.

“Thank you for my drinks” You drunkenly smile at him and Alex grins down at you in an amused way.

“You’re welcome love” Alex chuckles at your tipsy state and you then force a hug upon him.

He obviously hugs you back but he’s aware of his mates looking so he doesn’t make it completely obvious that he’s enjoying the hug as much as he is despite him really wanting to. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your lips instead of you leaning in to kiss his cheek.

When you left his arms, he smiled at you and you moved back to your brother and made him give you a hug. Something which Matt did but not without a roll of his eyes, but Alex could tell it was a playful one.

“See you in the morning guys.” You say with a smile after linking your arm through Nick’s so he could help you walk back.

Everyone said bye to you then and their attention was on the new game of pool again. But whilst it was Matt’s go Alex let his eyes focus on you.

You were so cute, he wanted nothing more than to take you back to a hotel away from the others so he could just be with you all night. But Alex also understood why you wanted to keep it a secret for a while longer.

Tours were long, and he knew you’d both be bullied about it for a while from the others, which you were both prepared for. But you were due to be on the road for the next year with AM due out in September.

The plan was to tell them as soon as interviews back home started so you didn’t have to be around the joking for long. Alex was used to it after Alexa and Arielle, but he knew you weren’t, and he respected that.

So that was why he denied it when the lads began to question him on it about 5 minutes after you left.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks as Alex pots another ball into the pool table.  

Alex grins thinking Matt was just fuming he was losing. As Alex moves around the table to eye up another winning shot, he says, “I’m beating you at pool

“No.” Matt shakes his head, earning eye contact from his best mate. “I mean with Y/N/N.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asks as he leans over the table to play his next shot, “She’s just gone back with Nick.”

“Don’t think he means that.” Miles grinned at him after he missed the tricky shot he’d chosen.  

Alex raises his eyebrows in a questioning way, getting the feeling that people were catching on to how you were around each other.

And that suspicion is confirmed when Jamie says, “You’re very touchy with each other.”

“Touchy?” Alex laughs, as he watches your brother take another shot, “Jamie mate, she was on your lap earlier.”

“Yeah, but she keeps like teasing you and messing with your hair and shit.” Matt chips in with his observations after missing his shot on the stripped balls.  

Alex rolls his eyes, “Matt, you literally fucked with my hair earlier today and Jamie did it yesterday... You all like to fucking annoy me by doing that.”

Alex continues to defend the both of you even though he wishes he didn’t have to. “You know what she’s like when she’s drunk, she doesn’t leave anyone alone.”

“He has a point; she didn’t shy away from me kissing her.” Miles points out raising his pint to the drummer.

Matt fakes a gag then and says, “Leave her the fuck alone Kane.”

“But she loves me.” Miles pouts, resting a hand over his heart like Matt’s words had hurt him. “You definitely want me as your brother-in-law.”

Alex smiles to himself knowing that he was now 6 months ahead of Miles in that category. God, he loved you. He could definitely see a bright future with you, and he had every intention to marry you one day in the years to come.

“I’d rather go to a Radiohead gig.” Matt says which earns a laugh from everyone, knowing how the hatred between the bands still hadn’t died out.

~*~*~*~

A month later you thought you were doing well. You were very careful around everyone after Alex told you about the questioning he got after the bar.

You were just normal with each other throughout the days, not overly interacting with each other. But when Alex’s eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder.

And it definitely helped that it was your job to take pictures of him. You could stare at him all day that way, even if it was through a camera lens.

Moments alone came when you’d stay in the bus when they went on nights out and Alex would venture back early meaning on nights like that, he actually got to give you goodnight kisses like he loved doing. Other moments took place when he would wander off at the multitude of festivals they were doing.

You’d say you were going getting pictures of different acts that no one else wanted to go watch. Alex would say he was going for a walk about 20 minutes later. Purely coincidence that you met up with him on his walk after you’d taken a photo or two.

Other times you snuck into each other's hotel rooms about an hour after you’d all gone your separate ways. But it was your nights in the hotels that you loved the most.

You got your privacy, and it was secure. The same as it was when he came to your house before the tour or when you went to his.

You loved being alone with him.

And tonight, all the other lads had gone out to a party somewhere and Alex had been faking an illness all day so he could stay in and they wouldn’t ask questions. They wouldn’t think it was weird you not going because you rarely went out with them.

They knew you valued your sleep too much.

So that was why you were alone in the back lounge with Alex tonight. And you’d honestly had one of the best nights being your normal cuddly selves.

You’d just watched a film with each other whilst being cuddled up on the sofa and you very nearly fell asleep in his embrace, but you weren’t wasting a full night alone with him. After the film you both went out and got yourselves a takeout from a place just down the road.

You made it into a full date night which was fucking adorable. After food, you coexisted normally for a little while, Alex letting you lean back against him whilst you edited your photos on your night off.

You were a pro at it after so many years, so it took no longer than an hour for the ones promotion wanted of them all. Alex was quite happily watching you edit the pictures of him and his friends as he absentmindedly played with your hair, placed random little kisses on your neck or on the back of your head, and at one point he even sang.

It was a really beautiful song, one that you’d only heard once before when he let you listen to the album when it was finished.

You only knew the title because he said it often in the song but having your boyfriend softly sing Mad Sounds into your ear as you worked you wished you could freeze time and appreciate it. His voice was amazing as everyone knew, but hearing it so close and so soft, it was hard to keep shivers from running down your spine.

“Such a beautiful song Al.” You smile closing your laptop as you’d finished what you needed to do and he’d finished singing.

You turn to him a bit more and he smiles back at you, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Like you then.” Alex grins before pressing his lips to yours.

You smile into the kiss as the comment was very adorable of him, but when you pulled back bullying was in order, “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.” Alex grins as you get up and put your laptop away, but you grab your small Lumix camera and come to sit back down.

You grin as you come and sit back down, this time straddling his lap so you could get a few close ups of him looking cute. You bring the viewfinder up to your eye and once you see his adorable smile on the other side of the lens you capture the perfection.

“I do.” You grin back at him.

You like that Alex never shies away from you when you have a camera in your hand. You knew after this much time that he trusted you with what you were capturing, especially in these moments together they wouldn’t be seen by anyone else.

“However…” You say, putting the camera down for a moment, “Me and your music are nothing alike.”

Alex frowns at you a little then, his hands running up your thighs, pulling you a little closer, “I think a certain track and our text message history would claim otherwise.”

You roll your eyes then knowing he was talking about Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? But when he grins at your eye roll you quickly snap another picture of him.

“I guess I shouldn't have got involved with a lyricist if I didn't want songs about me, should I?” You ask with a knowing smirk as you pull the camera away from your face.

You don’t bother checking it on the screen as it pops up, you already knew it would be a good picture. Not because you took it, but because it was of him and he was happy.

“No, probably not.” Alex chuckles as he takes the camera from you before raising it to take one of you.

You give him a pointed look after the photograph and joke, “You better hope you get to release your B-sides before Matt catches on.”

“I’ll be murdered, I have no doubt.” Alex grins and you burst out laughing at him being dramatic.

Alex thinks you look gorgeous though, so he raises your camera back up and you let him, not having a problem with him taking your picture. You smile at first but after he gets the first picture, he keeps looking through the viewfinder so you then puff your cheeks out jokingly and move closer to the camera.

Alex chuckles from behind it and he moves the camera from his face so you can both giggle together. He steals a kiss from you which you gladly accept, and you can't help but bite your lip afterwards.

He just looked so good. His skin was flawless these days and the fact that all of his fair wasn’t around his face anymore made his stunning jawline stand out. His brown eyes that were usually always hidden by sunglasses were shining brightly and the smile on his lips really showed how happy he was.

And seeing him happy made you happy. You could safely say you truly loved him. You’d do anything to keep you both as happy as you are now.

Whilst you’re deep in thought, Alex raises your camera back up to his eye which breaks your daydreaming about his features and you playfully roll your eyes.

“Smile for me Angel.” He asks and you do for one shot because he is pretty cute and pretty impossible not to smile at.

“Beautiful.” Alex confirms when he quickly looks down at the screen seeing the picture, he just caught of you.

“Like you then.” You use his own words against him with a playful smile.

Alex then puts your camera down to the side and with his newly free hand he cups the back of your neck and mumbles a ‘very good’ before bringing you in for a kiss. Playful and sweet were the only ways to describe it.

You just adored this alone time with him, sitting on his lap at the back bus, which was usually a very crowded area for you all to use, and you were kissing each other like it was just yesterday you got together. Everything still felt just as exciting and new and you never wanted his lips off yours.

You loved that it was you who got to run your fingers through his hair and pull on it when you wanted a kiss to carry on longer, like you just did. You loved the way his large hands held your hips, keeping you close to him.

But mostly you loved that he was always wanting affection. You’d not been in a relationship for a very long time so it made you nervous initially but there was something about Alex that you craved, and his affection was definitely one of those things that you were addicted to now.

You never wanted moments like these to end. But of course, that wouldn’t be realistic.

“I fucking knew it!”

You both pull away from each other to see Jamie with his jaw agape by the door. And your heart dropped to the ground.

“Jamie.” Alex says before Jamie can run out of the room.

“Oh I can’t fucking believe it.” He says, still stood there with his jacket in his hand but he looks like his whole world has ended. “I’ve gotta go get Matt.”

The panic in you rises then and you practically just off Alex’s lap and grab your intruders’ arm before he can turn back, “Jamie no, don’t.” You plead, pulling on his arm to come into the room.  

He turns back towards you then and he lets himself be pulled into the room. His head is still baffled though which leads him to say rather loudly, “You’re shagging, aren’t you?”

Your eyes go wide at the volume of his voice and you scorn, “Jamie.” quietly as you pull him further into the room so you can shut the door once more.

His eyes go wide impossibly wider though and he gasps, “You are!” looking from you to Alex who was still sat down.

“Matt is going to fucking murder you.” Jamie chuckles looking Alex dead in the eye as you ensure that no one else is on the bus by looking down through the bunks (thankfully all the curtains were still open) to the front lounge and you saw no one down the other end.

“Jamie please don’t start.” You hear Alex say, evidently not wanting this to get out of hand.

You close the door and turn around to the still very shocked man and say, “I’ll explain just please shut up and sit down.”

So you did explain that you’d been seeing each other for months. Jamie was shocked because he only started to suspect something a month into the tour.

But after he’d let the information sink in, it wasn’t really so shocking anymore. Which is why you’d got onto the conversation of why it was still a secret after you’d been going out for months.

“You know he’d be fine.” Jamie tells you, sitting down opposite you both, trying to persuade you to tell Matt. “He wouldn’t actually kick off, you can both do what you like.”

“It’s not really just about Matt.” You tell him honestly from your point of view. “It’s about all of you making jokes and shit for months. I didn’t want that.”

“Y/N we wouldn’t do that.” Jamie says leaning towards the both of you from the other sofa, but you’re having none of it.

“Cookie you’re the worst one for it.” You say with a pointed look.

You then point to Alex, who you were sitting beside now and say, “I remember what you were like with him and Arielle.”

And it was a lot. They joked about it all the time to start with, and it was annoying for you, let alone Alex and her.

“Him and Arielle were different.” Jamie states, a little on the defensive side, but then he follows it up with, “You don’t make funny videos for a living, I actually respect you a hell of a lot for putting up with us.”

You shake your head and tell the tipsy, but now definitely more sober man, “You’re not that bad.”

“Oh, we are.” Jamie says and you laugh because you were just being polite.

They could be a handful sometimes if you were telling the truth. But you wouldn’t change anything about any of them. You loved them all because of who and how they were, and they were all your family.

Jamie follows up with, “I'm genuinely surprised you actually want to go out with him after knowing what he’s like.”

You giggle at that and just pout as you joke, “I know, but you’re taken Cookie, so I went for the next best thing.”

“Hey” Alex scoffs, looking towards you, pretending to be offended.

You and Jamie just laugh at him though, and you intertwine your fingers when you grab Alex’s hand to hold as a little apology. You’d be sure to actually swear to him that you were joking later though.

Jamie notes the gesture and he can see the little knowing smiles on your faces and his heart melts a bit for the both of you. You were both pretty cute with each other to be fair and the more that Jamie had been playing detective about it he thought that the two of you would be a pretty good match.

So he was genuinely happy for the both of you.

“And as for the jokes…” Jamie continues, causing the two of you to look back around at him. But Jamie looks at you as he says, “If it upset you, you know I wouldn't do it”

“I don’t mind the odd joke about me sucking his dick or whatever, but I’ll go crazy if that's all I hear about for the next year.” You tell him honestly.

You could handle jokes, it wasn’t anything new. They joked about your first boyfriend to Matt for the longest time and had done each time you got a new one.

You could take a joke. But not 24/7 like this tour would promise it would.

“Okay, never say that again.” Jamie pleads, the shocked look not coming off his face, but you and Alex just laugh at his reaction.

His head goes into his hands for a moment but afterwards he looks at you both and says, “Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about, joke wise, until I get comfortable with this dynamic because that was strange coming from your mouth.”

“You’ve heard me say worse than that, surely?” You ask, very amused by his discomfort.

Jamie just blankly says, “Not about Alex… And you’re practically my sister.”

“Sorry Cookie. I’ve got a right to say rude jokes about my boyfriend when I want to. He can say ones about me but from your reaction I don’t think you want him to.”

He then looks Alex dead in the eye and begs, “Please don’t.”

You both just end up laughing.

~*~*~*~

You decided after that night that you would think about being more open to telling Matt about everything that was going on. Thankfully Jamie was quite respectful of the whole thing and actually kept your secret.

He didn’t make things awkward for you both either, if anything he helped you both out a lot. Sometimes when you were out with them Jamie would keep the others entertained so you could escape with Alex for a little bit on a ‘fag break’ which would consist of stolen kisses.

Other times when you were all out, Jamie would lowkey guilt trip Alex into going back with you early so no one asked questions which you loved him even more for.

During this month that Jamie knew though, you’d been trying to come up with a way to tell Matt. Because you weren’t stupid, you knew this couldn’t go on for much longer.

Each time you tried to tell him though something would happen which meant that you didn’t. Once you froze, unable to tell him because you just genuinely didn’t know how to.

It wasn’t exactly something that you could drop on him and expect him to be fine with. Your nerves probably didn’t help but other times when you worked up the courage to do it, other things would go wrong.

Matt was in a foul mood one of the times, so that was a no go. Miles and Nick came in and interrupted another time before you got the words out and it was like a never ending series of unfortunate events that stopped you.

Alex had politely offered to do it after a few failed attempts but you said that you’d be more comfortable doing it. Partly because you thought that you should be the one to tell your brother and partly because you knew Matt wouldn’t hit you.

But there had been multiple failed attempts since then so you thought that you may actually make it to the end of the summer festivals at this rate.

It was nearing the end of August now and you were all staying in a hotel again tonight as you’d got to the city they were performing in the day before the show. You were pleased because it meant another night in with Alex so after you’d all had your dinner downstairs you’d given him your spare key card for your room so he could come to you whenever he liked.

Alex told you that he was looking forward to using it and he was excited to spend another night with you. It warmed your heart hearing that and when he rang you at 9:30 saying he was just running to the shop to grab the both of you some snacks, he said he’d let himself in about 20 minutes when he got back.

And that is why you were a little surprised when there was knocking on the door about 10 minutes later. You thought that was fast for a start but you gave him the key card so you wouldn’t have to get up and answer the door.

“Come in!” You shout across the room hoping he would hear you.

It seems that he does but his muffled response is, “It’s locked.” when the handle doesn’t budge.

You roll your eyes and mumble, “That’s why I gave you a key.” under your breath as you get up off your bed and head to the door.

And you’re about to scorn him but when the door opens you don’t find your boyfriend. You find your brother.

“Hey.” Matt says, stepping into your room after the door opens.

You’re shocked by his presence but try and act as calm as possible when you say, “Hey, you alright?”

Thank fuck you were still dressed. And thank fuck Alex wasn’t already here because you didn’t want him to find out like that.

But then you realised he’d be here in 10 minutes or so. And that made you want to get Matt out as quickly as possible.

“I’m fine, are you?” Your brother asks once he picks up the complimentary chocolate that the hotel had put on your bed which you were saving for later.

Any other night you would have ripped the shit out of him for coming in and doing that but now was not the time. You were borderline panicking as you were about to be caught out. But you try and disguise that as best as possible.

“Yeah, great thanks.” But really you’re just thinking, Shit.

Your brother asks you, “What do you have planned for tonight?”

Thinking on your feet all you can come up with is, “Just editing more pictures.”

“Fancy blowing it off and watching Netflix with me?” Matt questions and you all of a sudden feel really guilty that you want him to leave as much as you do.

You pull a little bit of a face at his question and try to carry on your lie, “Oh, I would but I’m honestly not feeling all that great after tea, so I was just gunna get an early night after I’ve done a few more pictures.”

“Funny that.” Your brother states when you turn away from him to grab your laptop from your bag as he sits himself down at the end of your bed.

You move towards the little desk that was in the room though and ask, “What is?”

“Alex isn’t feeling too well either.”

Well shit. You were too alike for your own good, coming up with the same excuses without telling the other.

“Oh?” You question, shitting it at this point, so you just open up your MacBook to distract you. “Maybe it was something we ate downstairs?”

All your brother replied was, “Doubt that because I had the same thing as you both.”

You choose no response as your best response and just continue to pull up a picture of Matt you hadn’t finished editing on photoshop yet. Being creative always eased your nerves so hopefully him watching you edit a picture of him would distract him.

“Y/N.” Matt says, trying to gain your attention.  

You instead just carry-on messing with the photograph and suggest, “Maybe you should go check on our friend bro, could be being sick for all we know. Wouldn’t make for the prettiest show tomorrow”

“Y/N…” Matt says once more, and you know he wants you to look at him.

So you do and you see your brother sat on the end of your bed, looking at you. He asks in a serious yet calm tone, “Is Alex really ‘just a friend’ anymore?

Well. You guess you didn’t have to find a way to tell him anymore.

You sigh and shake your head, “No.” and as you close your laptop you tell the truth, “He’s a lot more.”

Matt can tell you’re serious straight away just by the way you were looking at him. And it makes him shake his head a bit in disbelief. He says calmly but in a tone that worries you, as he also runs a hand through his hair, “I knew it.”

“Please don’t be angry Matt.” You all but beg as you turn in your chair towards him more. “It’s my fault we didn't tell you sooner... I didn’t want things to be different with the group, so I was the one who wanted to keep it a secret.”

“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?” Matt has to ask you, feeling awful that you felt like you couldn’t tell him something. “I just want you to be happy... Al’s practically family so of course I want the same for him.”

“I know, I’m really sorry…” You trail off for a second, “It just got to a point where I didn’t know how to tell you and when I tried to things always got in the way.”

Matt nods completely understanding that. At least you wanted to tell him.

“When did it start?” Is the question Matt asks you next.

“New Year’s Day” You say quickly before wincing a little, hearing that it has been 8 months out loud.

You felt so bad.

Matt is shocked by that news too, “That long...? Really?”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling awful, “I’m sorry.”

Matt ends up asking you a few more questions after that which were pretty much big brother sort of questions, making sure Alex was treating you right and stuff like that. Thankfully this had all gone very plain sailing and Matt was happy for you like you both knew he would be.

And he had forgiven you for not telling him for so long too which was a big relief. It felt like a massive weight off your shoulders.

So much so that you had to get up off your seat and give him a hug. Matt stood up for the embrace, so you got to hug him properly and it was such a lovely warm hug that you felt like you hadn’t had in such a long time.

Halfway through that long hug though, both you and Matt hear the door to your room unlock. You press your lips together and wince a little knowing exactly what is about to happen.

“Hey Y/N/N.” You hear Alex say from somewhere behind you and you let go of Matt and both of you look towards Alex now closing the door, not yet noticing the situation.  

After he closes the door though, he begins to say before he turns towards you, “I got you thes- oh”

Matt smiles though seeing your favourite flowers in his best friend’s hand. You can’t help but smile at the sight of them too, and his face falling realising Matt was here was a little funny too.

He looked a little scared.

“I’m glad you’re treating her right Al.” Matt tells him, and Alex struggles with his words for a second and he looks to you for help.

“I just told him.” You nod confirming it out loud for him.  

Alex’s eyes go from you back to his best mate then and he starts, “Listen Matt, I’m sor-”

But Matt interrupts, “No no I don’t need an apology.” He shakes his head, “Just don’t fuck it up.” He then looks between the both of you, “Either of you... Because that would make for a really awkward tour.”

You smile at that and say, “I don’t plan on doing, and I know he doesn’t either.”

Matt grins at you then and he looks back to Alex and takes a few steps towards him. He points a finger to his chest and says very seriously, “Make her cry Turner, and I'll castrate you.”

Alex slowly nods, “Noted”

Matt must then break into a grin because Alex does too, and your brother then heads over to the door.

Matt turns back towards you and says, “Have a nice night love birds.” and walks out with a grin and he shuts the door behind him.

Both you and Alex stay silent for a second looking at the door almost in disbelief that the thing you’d both waited 8 months to do, was now over. Alex turns around to look at you and you’re both just awkwardly smiling at each other.

Alex puts the plastic bag filled with snacks down on the table he was standing beside and says, “Well you could have pre warned me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t know he was coming. But he asked me to watch Netflix with him and apparently I gave the same excuse as you.”

“Oh fuck. Clever, aren’t we?” Alex chuckles a little and you nod in response.

Alex holds up the flowers he got for you and you can’t help but smile, “Well, I was hoping to surprise you with these, but you definitely won on the surprise front tonight.”

You giggle at that and you lean up to kiss him after taking the flowers from him, “Thank you my love.”

You briefly put them down whilst you say, “At least we don’t have to stay away from each other anymore.”

“Never going to let you go now Darling.” Alex chuckles before picking you up in a hug and spinning you around. You can’t help but giggle.

The next morning you both ventured downstairs to have breakfast with the others and found that they were all there waiting for you at your table with knowing looks. You and Alex just had grins on your faces knowing Matt would have gone around and told them all before you even got the chance.

They were all of course happy for you but of course you got some jokes and some questions. Jamie had got a bit used to it now, so he was starting with his jokes in private to you but when you sat down, he asked the both of you, “Suck his dick last night?”

“Wow, you’ve been waiting for that one, haven’t you?” You laugh, sitting yourself down next to him, immediately reaching for the menu so you could see what was on offer for breakfast.

The table obviously all laughed, and it was all fun and playful as you imagined it would be. You were glad Matt wasn’t cringing at all the details that you were giving out, as it was things like how far back moments happened, like when Alex asked you out officially and stuff like that.

All of the lads seemed really happy for you and even some of your other friends that were a part of the crew were shocked but buzzing for you. Alex got loads of people saying, ‘You better treat her right’ which made you laugh a lot.

But thankfully it was business as usual, just with the addition of getting to hold his hand and kiss him the odd time when you wanted. You’d rather most of your affection be in private though so not much had really changed on the social front.

Even when you were trying to be discrete about it, you didn’t find it too hard because you were still just the same Y/N and Alex. You’d been friends for years, so the dynamic shift wasn’t all that drastic.

You both were just the same friends that you could walk next to each other and it just be normal. You didn’t have to be touching each other all the time, you’d go walk with Miles or Nick and just go spend time with Alex every now and then.

You were glad that things never felt too different.

You guess the only thing that marginally was different was the first night back on the bus after you’d been staying in the hotel. You were all heading to bed and when you came out of the bathroom after changing, you headed to your own bunk, but then realised you didn’t actually need to.

Alex’s bunk was the top bunk in the middle, so you walked right past your own and straight to his. He was just in his boxers like most of the lads usually were when they slept on this bus.

“Hey.” You say with a big smile.

“Hey.” Alex grins, his messy hair almost falling into his eyes. He makes you smile when he says, “Was just about to come kiss you”

“Vile.” You hear Miles gag from the bunk directly below and you look down at him and frown.

“Miles, he kisses you... What are you on about?” You question, not understanding.

They were literally always touchy feely with each other which you thought was cute and adorable. They’d always been great mates and were close enough to actually perform together using one microphone.

So it made you laugh when Alex lent down over his bunk to say, “Little offended there mate.” to his friend.

Nick bursts out laughing at your backchat and Alex’s hurt and you chuckle along before you glance back to your boyfriend. Once his head was the right way up again you smile at him.

“I can join you for the night now, right?” You ask him and you love the smile that comes to his lips.

He nods, “Course you can.”

So Alex shuffles back in the bunk, enough for you to comfortably jump up and once you lay beside him you can’t stop grinning. It definitely felt weird to be in a bunk with him for everyone to see but it definitely makes you happy, even if it was a tight squeeze.

“Hi” You grin at him as he’s on his side, his back pressed to the wall of the bunk, looking down on you.

“Hey beautiful.” Alex says before he leans down and kisses you.

You of course kiss him back but after a second you quickly part so you can reach down to the curtain and pull it closed. You doubt that Nick wanted to watch from the bunk opposite.

As soon as your lips were back attached to Alex’s though you hear Nick whisper shout to everyone, “It’s starting!”

If your eyes were open, you would have rolled when but you just try to keep the smile off your lips, so you don’t ruin the kiss. And thankfully you both controlled yourselves enough to hold your smiles so you could indulge in a very nice kiss.

“If I hear anything come from that bunk, you don’t want to know what will happen.” Matt calls out loudly and you break apart from the kiss to laugh.

It seems like everyone else found it comical too, but it was even funnier when Jamie asked him, “What are you gunna do? Cry?”

“Fuck off Cookie.” Your brother says back, and you chuckle at that too.

You and Alex keep your curtain closed as the rest of them chat away and you get yourselves comfortable in the bunk. You are basically cuddled together in the bunk, with the duvet over you both, you still on your back and Alex tucked into your neck as he lay on his side.

You were glad you didn’t feel like you were about to roll out of the bunk, so it definitely made sense you were that way around. That and Alex quite liked to pick his head up every few minutes and trap you in another kiss.

A trap you certainly didn’t mind.

Usually when you all got in your bunks, curtains would stay open as you would all chat to each other and one by one curtains would close until you were all knackered and pass out until the next day. So, it wasn’t a shock that tonight you were all talking for quite a while, you and Alex just chatting to each other quietly in your bunk, liking the privacy that the curtain provided.

But after about 15 minutes someone shouted your name, popping yours and Alex’s bubble.

“Y/N?” You hear Jamie call you.

You smile knowing a joke was bound to come your way and respond, “Yeah?”

“I’ve got a question for you.” He informs and you can practically hear him smiling.

You grin at Alex and shout back to Jamie, “Okay, go on.”

“You know because you’re a photographer... Does that mean you take pictures of you and Alex in the bedroom?” Jamie asks teasingly and your immediately roll your eyes, but it doesn’t stop you from playing along.

“Shit.” You say jokingly loud, “How do they know?” You scorn Alex jokingly and he’s just silently laughing.

“Matt.” You call and joke, “Maybe don’t go through that SD card tomorrow.”

Earlier on he asked to see some of the pictures after the gig tonight and you said he could look through them before you started editing them tomorrow.

“I’ll burn it” Matt says back, and you just start silently giggling.

“What are you both up to in there?” You both hear Nick ask.

Alex says in a teasing voice, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Both of you have another few kisses in the time between those jokes and the next time you were heckled. But you were just cuddled when they next started joking.

“They are very quiet up there.” You both hear Miles say.

You shake your head and Alex sighs a little as you hear the rest of them chuckle.

“You doing good? You getting it up, Al?” Miles asks and you both feel him punch the top of his bunk, subsequently the bottom of yours.

You aren’t surprised when Alex doesn’t grace him with an answer.

“Very quiet indeed.” Nick laughs, more than likely looking down at Miles so they could share a laugh.

Jamie seems to jump in then with, “They are definitely biting their tongues.”

“Fuck off all of you.” Matt gets defensive but that just makes it comical.

You decided to upset your brother then by pretending to be annoyed when you scorn them, “You’re all really ruining the mood.”

Alex chuckles at that then, even though you weren’t doing anything. That is what made it funnier to him though.

“Sorry, do you need silence for Alex to get you off.” Jamie asks and it makes you roll your eyes at the question.

You reply, “No.” as an idea comes to mind.

“So you don't mind us carrying on talking then?” Miles asks teasingly. You can practically hear the smirk.

You backchat with, “Not if yous don't mind some noises too?”

“Fire away Hun.”

You brother almost shouts in distress, “No don’t. Both of you stay very fucking quiet.”

Jamie defends you both then, “Oh right so it’s alright when you and Breana fuck but when it’s Alex and Y/N you’re suddenly a prude.”

An argument starts out then with Matt defending himself and then Jamie defending you and so on and then it becomes a big thing. But you find it quite funny that Matt is getting annoyed, so you decide to make your own joke too.

“Al” You whisper, and he looks up at you for you to ask him, “Have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?”

“Yeah, I watched it with you on the last tour.” He whispers back, reminding you.

You remember him doing now. You’d all had a movie night on the bus during the Suck It And See tour and because you were a little depressed they let you choose the film and you chose that one because it made you laugh.

“Okay, good.” You smirk knowing exactly what you were about to do.

Your boyfriend doesn’t yet get it though, so he asks in a whisper, “Why?”

“Alex” You say a bit louder, a smile you couldn’t hold back drawing to your face.

“What babe?” He asks you and you have to close your eyes, so you don’t break and start laughing.

You try to make your voice sound sultrier and you fake moan louder, “Oh god.”

At that though the boys arguing dies down as Alex whispers, “What are you doing?”

You hold your laugh and, “Alex.” falls from your lips in a breathy moan. And it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Y/N, fuck off.” You hear your brother shout, clearly not amused.

You however come straight back with a very load moan of, “Alex fuck.”

“Matt I’m not touching her.” Alex shouts and you open your eyes to see Alex propped up to the side of you, looking at you like he was scared.

You don’t give it a second thought before you gasp even louder, “Right there Al”

You can hear Miles cackling below you both and you don’t let up with the moans you’re making despite wanting to laugh too. Next you raise your hand up to the ceiling of the bunk as if you’re using it to brace yourself, “Fuck.”

“Oh my god, don’t stop.” You plead in a desperate way as you look to your mortified boyfriend.

“Y/N shut up.” Alex whispers, but it just makes you carry on more.

The fake moans fall from you lips, filling the bunks with your pleads and gasps. Alex is still mortified, but the laughter coming from Jamie, Nick, and Miles just fuels you on.

You go fully Sally Albright on them. A series of loud moans leave your lips like:

“Yes Alex yes!”

“Faster.”

“Oh god.”

“Don’t stop!”  

Alex shouts over your loud voice, “Matt, I fucking swear I’m not touching her!”

The way you moan, “Fuck Al” seems to just dismiss what Alex said straight away though.

“Stop!” Matt shouts back, obviously angry now.

You immediately contradict in a fake moan, “Don’t stop!”

“Alex!” You all but scream as you bang on the ceiling of the bunk again a few times.

You go to take it a step further, but you’re apparently not allowed, “Fuck, Alex plea-”

Your boyfriend puts his hand over your mouth so you can’t carry on. However, you just start dramatically fake moaning, and it sounds a lot dirtier because his hand is over your mouth.

You carry on until you get a rise out of Matt despite Alex pleading with you to stop with a scared look on his face. But you know your brother was about to stop so you just looked at your boyfriend’s gorgeous brown eyes and carried on.

And before you know it Matt is swearing getting himself out of his bunk and the curtain of yours is practically ripped open. As soon as you see sight of your brother you stop the fake moans completely as if it never happened.

Alex holds both his hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint. Matt can quite clearly see you're fully clothed and have a massive shit eating grin on your face.

“Damn that was good, thanks Al.” You joke to your boyfriend but you’re looking at your brother.

Matt holds up a finger at you and warns, “You’re on very thin ice right now.”

He looks angry and embarrassed all at once. He’s bright red but looks absolutely fuming so you can’t stop your laugh.

You giggle questioning, “Why because you know your best mate can fuck your sister?”

Jamie bursts out laughing at that and you crumble into a louder laugh.

“Stop it.” Alex gasps, playfully hitting your shoulder once again looking petrified as he glanced from you to your brother.

“I don’t need to hear whatever that was.” Matt scorns you and you’re very quick to give him some backchat.

“Did you just admit to us all that you’ve never given Bre an orgasm? Because if you don’t know what those sounds were then I feel sorry for her.” You joke back trying to be cocky.

Jamie’s laugh echoes through the bus and you can hear Miles cackling from below. You could see Nick gasping for breath in a fit of laughter and Alex gasps in shock from beside you.

“You need to fuck off Y/N.” Matt gives you one more death glare before he stalks back to his bunk.

“Oh pull the drum stick out your arse!” You say getting a little annoyed at how your brother couldn’t take a joke. “You better hope our hotel rooms are never next to each other.”

“Shut the fuck up. I won’t tell you again.” Matt says as he gets back into his bunk and shuts his curtain in a strop.

“Aw…” You pout turning back to Alex in your bunk. You give him a quick kiss and then joke, “Better save the next orgasm for the next hotel Darling.”

“I’m begging you to stop talking.” Alex shakes his head, still looking at you a little shocked that you’d actually done what you just had.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Matt.” You giggle, and you say louder so the bus can hear you, “He’s not that scary... Just gotta bring up the time he shat himself when we were in the bat house in Chester Zoo and he quietens right down.”

You all hear Matt shout, “Fuck off!”

You and everyone else on the bus, bar Matt, started laughing then and you were still giggling away when you cuddled yourself into your boyfriend's body. Jamie and Miles begin to applaud you during their continued laughter which just makes your giggles difficult to silence.

Alex is still half shocked as he cuddled you into him, loving your humour but not actually believing you just faked an orgasm that loud on a tour bus surrounded by all your mates and your brother. He shakes his head and kisses the top of yours before telling you, “You’re gunna be the death of me.”

“Least it’ll be a fun death.” You joke and Alex laughs.

“You’re right.” Alex chuckles when you look up at him. You're grinning like an idiot and Alex tells you, “I love you, you psycho.”

“Love you too, weirdo.” You grin and proceed to kiss him sweetly.

After the kiss though you actually want to go to sleep in your boyfriend's arms peacefully. So despite Nick, Miles, and Jamie all still chuckling away, you turn back towards the curtain to redraw it and as you do you catch Jamie’s eye.

You wink at him before drawing the curtain and Jamie wolf whistles, which has you and Alex giggling away together as you cuddle yourself into him once more. You kiss Alex once more before playfully calling out to the others who were still laughing, “Night boys”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thank you for reading x

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night. 

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow. 

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning. 

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl. 

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 

“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 

[tennessoui]

49!!!!!! Please

finally!!!! baby, finally!!!!

49. Boss/Intern (35yo!Boss!Anakin, 19yo!Intern!Obi-Wan)

(2.4k)

Obi-Wan rubs his hands rapidly down his face. He feels distinctly like he’s about to burst into tears, which would be a very bad thing to do here and now. His supervisor had come in fifteen minutes ago to tell him everyone was going to lunch. She’d invited him along, but he’d said no.

He always says no.

Lunch for the rest of the office means he gets to have a scheduled breakdown at his little cubicle.

He just. He just doesn’t know anything.

He’s only had this internship at Temple Tech for one week and already he’s floundered and fucked up more than anyone else probably has put together in their lifetimes.

He shouldn’t have ever applied, but he had been getting so desperate for summer employment, any sort of employment and, yes, this internship was out of his career field, and yes, he did have to lie at least five times on his resume, but it was an internship and it was paid.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. But then he actually got the job by some stroke of hellish luck, and he’s been learning every day since that it was actually probably a terrible idea. The learning curve is too steep. Obi-Wan is trying, but wow is he bad at it. Tech. Data stuff.

On his open computer, the sound of an email pinging rushes through his ears and he takes his hands off of his face to look. It’s from Anakin Skywalker. The boss.

Obi-Wan thinks he can feel his fingers grow numb. His heart feels like it’s stuttering in his chest, like it’s about to stop once and for all.

Temple Tech is a start-up company, still small but growing quickly. At its head is thirty-five year old Anakin Skywalker, which shouldn’t be any sort of a problem because Obi-Wan’s nineteen now and he can keep it in his pants, even if Anakin is hot as hell, smart as well, and so terribly kind whenever they run into each other.

Which happens a lot. Because it’s a small company, operating out of one renovated warehouse turned office. The floor plan is open enough that Obi-Wan’s able to see Anakin’s space--he gets a proper office, as part of being the boss, but he’s chosen to make the walls glass so it doesn’t feel as if he’s cut off from everyone else--from across the room. And Anakin is big on making everyone who works with him feel like family. A lot of companies say they do that or support that, but Anakin actually does. For one thing, he tells them to call him Anakin, not Mr. Skywalker. For another, he’s open about his personal life, but not so much that it makes anyone feel uncomfortable.

He’s quick with a smile and so understanding, and if he ever gets mad—and from his stories of his younger days, Obi-Wan knows he must have a temper—it’s never been in public.

And Anakin has never commented on how often Obi-Wan blushes around him, or how hard it is for him to focus on his work if Anakin sits on the edge of his desk to talk with him. Or any of the other employees, Obi-Wan has had to remind himself many times. Even though Obi-Wan feels hypersensitive and like a schoolgirl whenever Anakin is in his general vicinity, Anakin is a professional. He’s Obi-Wan’s boss. Nothing could ever happen between them. Not while Obi-Wan works under Anakin.

Even if Anakin is so nice and so kind and has asked to meet him now when everyone else is out of the building. It’s not suspicious and it’s definitely not cause for concern of any kind.

He thinks about shooting back an email, confirming it, but he’s never been good at the whole office environment thing. Instead, he logs off his computer and stands up.

It’s a short walk to Anakin’s office, hardly enough time for his palms to get sweaty.

Anakin’s typing something when Obi-Wan enters the room and he looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, aghast when he realizes he’s forgotten to knock. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Obi-Wan, come in, please,” Anakin gives him a slight smile and gestures for him to sit on the couch next to his desk. Obi-Wan takes a seat hesitantly. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

Anakin types for a few more seconds on his computer before pushing away from his desk all together and taking a seat next to Obi-Wan on the couch.

“I’ve noticed you never go out to lunch with your coworkers,” Anakin says, positioning himself so he’s facing Obi-Wan completely. His body language is open, like he’s read one of those business books on how to sit so everyone knows you’re nice but you have an agenda.

It puts Obi-Wan on edge, and he fidgets around on his seat.

“You’re not in trouble, b--Obi-Wan,” his boss murmurs. “I just want to know why. Do you not like them? Have they been mean to you?”

“No!” Obi-Wan denies immediately, looking up at Anakin and biting his lip when he sees that the man’s attention is fixed so squarely on him. “No, of course not. Everyone here has been amazing.” He widens his eyes and raises both eyebrows. “Really, sir.”

Anakin looks distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ve told you to call me Anakin,” he criticizes, and Obi-Wan blushes more.

He’s really messing this up.

“Sorry, sir, I mean. Anakin. Sorry. Anakin,” he coughs. His palms are sweaty. He’s sitting on his attractive boss’s couch when everyone’s gone on lunch, and his palms are sweaty.

He doesn’t even want anything to happen.

Alright, so that’s a lie. He definitely has spent a lot of late nights thinking about something happening between them, just like this, but those are fantasies and Anakin is his boss. More than that, Anakin is a good man. He’d never take advantage of an intern in that way, no matter how frequently Obi-Wan feels as if he’s walking around with a sign around his neck that says, Take Advantage of Me, Mr. Anakin, Sir!

“Why don’t you go to lunch with them, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks softly, gently.

Obi-Wan’s hands clench down on themselves. It’s really the moment of truth, now. He really can’t keep lying, not when Anakin sounds so concerned. He has no right to be concerned! He shouldn’t care about Obi-Wan at all; hell, he shouldn’t even know him!

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbles, staring down at the stretch of fabric on his knees.

Anakin hums. Obi-Wan wonders if he learned that from his fancy How to Run a Business books as well: don’t say anything, just let the other person talk until you know everything you need to know to crush them.

Damn if the silence doesn’t work to get Obi-Wan speaking again though.

“I...I’m behind on the work,” he admits. “I don’t have time to go to lunch because I need to figure out how to do my work.”

Anakin makes a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. “If...if your workload is too heavy, Obi-Wan, we can look into cutting it. I don’t want to be known as the company that runs its interns into the ground.”

Obi-Wan’s throat tightens too much and he shrugs. He can’t cry. He really shouldn’t cry. He did this to himself. “It wouldn’t help,” he whispers.

“What?” Anakin asks, leaning forward to hear him better.

“It wouldn’t help,” Obi-Wan says again, louder this time. Anakin blinks at him, and Obi-Wan finally tells him the truth. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I...I lied on my resume. I needed a job, for my student visa. I needed the money to keep it while not in school. And...and internships are supposed to look good on your resume, so I...I thought I could figure it out, I’m smart, sir, I’m so smart. I don’t know why I can’t figure it out.”

He drops his gaze to his hands again and breathes out shakily. He’d been carrying the weight of that secret for far longer than he should have been. It should have been a relief of the utmost degree to give it away. But instead he’s waiting for the punishment. Anakin will have to fire him now. Anakin might even get mad at him for lying.

When his boss doesn’t say anything for several long seconds, Obi-Wan chances a glance up at him through his lashes. Instead of anger on his face, there’s only a confused sort of sympathy.

“I’m...not sure I understand, Obi-Wan,” he says slowly. “You lied on your resume to get this internship, but...why couldn’t you have just applied to an internship in a different field? One you actually want to study? I know you like biology, you’ve told me more about biology in the past few weeks than you’ve told me about yourself.”

“None of them wanted me,” Obi-Wan sniffles and hates himself for it. “I tried, I promise. I promise I didn’t want to lie, but I needed the money, and this internship paid so much better than working at a coffeehouse would.”

Anakin puts his hand gently on his shoulder and Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from turning into the pressure of it. “It’s alright,” Anakin murmurs. “Oh no, please don’t--please don’t cry, b--Obi.”

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan wails.

Anakin hushs him. “Alright, Obi-Wan, alright. Let’s see what we can do.”

“You’re going to fire me,” he says with absolute certainty. He doesn’t even much like his job at Temple Tech, but how is he supposed to find another one on such short notice?

Anakin is quiet. He doesn’t say no.

“Look, I’ll try harder, I promise,” Obi-Wan stutters out, turning to look up at Anakin with wet eyes. What a picture he must make. Nothing professional about him at all. Nothing worth keeping around either. “I promise, please, don’t--I’ll--I’ll stay after hours, I’ll work late, come early. I need this job, sir.”

Anakin’s eyebrows furrow and he looks genuinely regretful, which is little comfort. “Obi-Wan, it’s not about...your work ethic. I promise, your work ethic is stronger and better than most of the people on my team.”

Obi-Wan wipes at his eyes hastily. He knows there’s a but coming soon.

“But I can’t...if you’ve lied on your resume, you can’t put Temple Tech there later. That’s not fair for anyone else who applied and was rejected in favor of you. The spot you have...I need someone there who knows what they’re doing with computers. Who wants to be there. Obi, it makes sense that you don’t know anything about tech. You never look like you really want to be here unless you’re talking to someone else.”

Obi-Wan’s bottom lip trembles and he can feel another wave of tears coming. “I understand, sir,” he mumbles, standing up and preparing to leave the office and Anakin Skywalker behind forever. He’s never been fired before. He doesn’t know what the decorum really is in this situation.

Being tugged back and into his boss’ arms doesn’t feel like how it normally goes, though.

But he can’t resist melting into Anakin’s tight hug, rubbing his cheek on the man’s nice shirt. He wants to give him something to remember him by, even if it’s just tear stains on expensive cotton.

“Lemme help you,” Anakin suddenly says, voice very gruff. Obi-Wan freezes in his arms and tilts his head to try and see Anakin’s face. Help him?

“I don’t understand,” he admits, biting his lip.

“I like you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin confesses. “I do. I’ll be sad to see you leave. I was already going to be sad to see you leave when your internship concluded, but this is much sooner. I…”

He trails off as if trying to make up his mind. It doesn’t take him long to nod to himself.

“Be honest,” he warns him, but there’s a joking lilt to his voice. Obi-Wan, personally, thinks that’s a little too soon. “Do you know how to clean house?”

Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin’s arms to stare at him.

“Or walk dogs,” Anakin adds.

Slowly, Obi-Wan nods. Cleaning up a house and walking dogs feels like something he can figure out how to do. Feels pretty self-explanatory for the most part. The only thing he’s confused by is why Anakin is asking this of him.

“Would you...that is, just for the rest of the summer, until your classes start again--how would you feel about cleaning my house? And walking my dogs?” Anakin seems to hold his breath.

Obi-Wan feels like he’s stepped into the Twilight Zone or something.

“You’re...firing me,” he says slowly. “But...you’re offering me a job? As your….maid?”

“‘We should call it housekeeper,” Anakin says quickly, a pained look flashing across his face. “Too...many connotations with maid.”

“Why?” he has to ask. “I mean. I lied to you, sir. I...you’re firing me.”

“Because I need someone in that position who knows what they’re doing,” Anakin explains slowly.

“Do you want me in another position, sir?” Obi-Wan asks. He blushes furiously as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Anakin’s eyes darken and he clears his throat. He doesn’t say no, and his silence, the double entendre of his silence, makes the breath catch in Obi-Wan’s throat.

“You said you needed money to keep your visa,” Anakin says. “I’m trying to offer you an honest means of employment. I need someone to keep up my house and walk my dogs. If you can do it, I’d hire you over anyone else in a second.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan whispers, suddenly so very aware of how close they’re still standing to each other, how nice Anakin smells, how handsome he looks with just the beginning of a silver streak at his temple.

Anakin sweeps his gaze over Obi-Wan’s face and chest, and Obi-Wan has to wonder what he sees there. Whatever he does, he must like because he smirks. “Work ethic,” he murmurs.

[afishlearningpoetry]

why are people willing to believe moffat is the worst person on earth? is he really that bad or is this just a huge telephone game and after each round the rumour worsens and no one cares about the truth anymore?

It’s difficult to describe unless you were deep into fandom on this website in 2012 and the way people turned on him so quickly. I mean first, he’s a man who’s said and written dumb things, he ran two of the some of most popular British shows on the planet at the same time and still gets to make whatever he wants (see dracula) so he’s doing fine.

But it was kind of a domino effect that started with doctor who. Series 5 was a big success, and the next one went overseas with a huge two part premiere set in america, capitalizing on the overseas effect that had been growing with David tennant’s era, so it naturally garnered a lot of new viewers. The issue comes with the River Song twist halfway through the season and the episode after the summer break, Let’s Kill Hitler, which admittedly is one of his weakest scripts, hampered by a rough production schedule. The previous show runner Davies also suffered a lot from the gruel of doctor who and it affected his scripts a lot too. So from what I remember the hitler episode in 2011 kind of hit on a couple nerves people had been dreading, 1. Making light of a serious historical event 2. The other twist of casting a black actress for a character retconned into Amy and Rory’s life only for her to turn into River less then ten minutes later, using race to obscure audience expectations 3. The script being messy - from the regeneration stuff, the robot replica solution which people felt was a cop out in the finale, and the “let’s find River Song” subplot being wrapped up in one episode which rushes everything, adding to the wound of 4. Amy being passive in a mystery pregnancy storyline, which resulted in 5. The biggest criticism of River being that her entire existence revolves around the doctor, and finally 6. Everything revolving around the doctor for no reason. I don’t entirely agree with these, especially the first and last one, but the second half of series 6 and first half of 7 is inconsistent. So after those two episodes people were writing a lot of posts explaining their issues with his take on the show, which would continue through series 7 (Asylum of the Daleks in particular and the finale also join his weakest scripts - 2012/2013 for doctor who was rough and seemed to be motivated again, by scheduling and production issues, he’s talked about it a lot, don’t forget the 50th anniversary was also happening at the time, which was good). The criticisms have merit, but they were overblown by other factors too.

On Sherlock the River Song issue kind of exploded again after ASIB with Irene aired in early 2012. The appearance of the story being Irene falling for a man after describing herself as gay upset people. We’ve been over this a lot. The atmosphere was very different on tumblr at the time… like it was hardcore 24/7 dedication. Everything that happened on our television screens was life or death. Ships getting together or characters getting fridged had mortal consequences. I think it’s easy to forget now but this place was often of miserable after series 2 lol. There was a lot of positive activity and creativity, but also lots of people complaining about everything. It was kind of a formative year for transformative work in fandom. Nearly every tv show I was watching at the time had a fandom that hated it and it’s writers in return, deeply and constantly. Supernatural, glee, teen wolf, so many things. So we’d write tag essays in our reblogs describing in explicit detail how we felt about story, characters, theme, characters arcs, and how we knew better (and tbh we were usually right), read and reblog people writing meta and callout posts like it was a job, and constantly trying to either break the fourth wall with our demands or catch the writers of the month in the act so we could add another bulletpoint to the list proving we were right. No one was ever calm. It was a battle of attrition. It wasn’t really about changing anything, though we hoped we could. Twitter’s a perfect place for that.

He also had the expectations of the old doctor who fans to keep up with on top of new viewers, even though the Davies era has most of the same problems. Running two super popular shows with mega fandoms magnified the exposure so much it was basically an ant against a magnifying glass in terms of numbers. So eventually he left twitter and kept show running, but a lot of people didn’t see series 8-10 of DW to see how the show changed, nevermind what’s going on with Sherlock lol. The scriptwriting process for the two is also so different there’s no comparing them but the callouts surrounding Sherlock are a different story. It started with doctor who coming to america, which no one should ever do.