#i want to either walk into a hairdressers to see if they have space or call up to make an appointment and then have my hair cut and then pay

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

Hi, why does Supercuts want me to make an account with them? You're a hairdresser's, why on earth would I need an account with you?

[olsenmyolsen]

Hey!!! So im finally gonna send a request from that prompt list lol.

May i please request. absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

I dont mind either elizabeth or wanda, but can I ask that yn has a buzz cut on her sides back back of her head. And as she just had it redone yn makes a comment about her feeling like a sheared sheep lol

Just got my hair redone and I always say that after touching the back. I just wish I had someone who would stroke my hair also;_; id melt if wanda/elizabeth did.

If that's not too much trouble ;_; please and thank you

A Sheared Sheep

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

No Powers AU - (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You got a haircut without telling your girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, Meet-Cute, Baking, Haircuts, Fluff

You had met Wanda Maximoff only a few months prior. It was a classic meet-cute moment.

A lapse in thinking had led your iced latte to go from your hand to her shirt. An exchange of apologies, small talk, quick glances, some light flirting, and a dinner to make up for it all led to the two of you dating.

It's been bliss and wonderful. You two have only grown stronger and more comfortable. Sharing details about your lives and what you want for the future.

Wanda was very upfront in talking about kids, and she said she didn't care how it happened but that this was something she wanted. That made you feel better when you pointed out through some laughter that you didn't have the parts to help her in the department.

Wanda shook her head and hugged you tightly before running her fingers through your long hair.

An action that always made you smile.

And yeah, sure, talking about kids a few months into a relationship might seem forward, but within the last year, Wanda had recently called it off with her fiancé. Plus, she was older than you. Not significantly, but enough to where you needed another hand to count the years separating you two.

Anyways, like I was saying.

What you and Wanda have is clearly special. And you know she loves you for you. Not a whole lot could change that as of right now.

Well, that's what you keep telling yourself as you close your eyes in the hairdresser's chair. "We really don't have to do it Y/n." Your favorite hairdresser and good friend Natasha pointed out for the hundredth time.

You see, every once in a while, once your hair grows past the point of driving you crazy, you usually just buzz it. Well, at least most of it. Normally, Natasha styles it or just trims one side. Today, the two of you were talking about buzzing the sides and back of your head, but then Wanda popped into your mind and stopped everything.

No, she didn't telepathically communicate with you. As cool as that sounds.

No, the thought of her popped into your mind.

She has only ever known you with your long hair. Would she even like you if you didn't look like... like you?

You shook your head and told yourself that, of course, she would still like you. Hell, she loves you!

Thus, the thought cycle repeats.

"Y/n, why don't you just tell her you want to get it done?" Natasha asks as she watches you look over yourself in the mirror. "Because I want it to be a surprise." You answer back with conviction. "Okay, so then why aren't we doing it?" Natasha asks another question, making you close your mouth.

You sigh.

And after a few moments, you tell Natasha to start cutting.

As your hair fell to the tile floor, your stomach began doing flips and tangling itself up, waiting to be in front of Wanda.

"Wanda?" You called out into her condo as you closed the front door behind you. "I'm in the kitchen!" Wanda yelled. You smiled at her voice and kicked off your shoes by the front door before making your way through her space.

It was just as soft and cozy as she was.

The smell of cinnamon and apple pie filled your nose as you walked closer and closer to her green-tiled kitchen. That backsplash was the first thing she did to make this place her own.

You loved the color.

"Smells amazing!" You said as you appeared around the corner of the kitchen as Wanda pulled out a second pie and set it on a stand to cool.

Wanda briefly glanced your way with a big smile. "Thank you!" She turned back and turned off the oven as she started moving around to put some dirty dishes into the sink. "I made two pies. One for us and the other for Agatha. I think she and Ralph are having some trouble, so I thought I would bake her a pie, too." You leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a warm smile, watching as your girlfriend.

She really was beautiful inside and out.

"It took me forever to find the specific brand of apples I wanted. You know, I didn't want it to be too sweet or sour, and then-" Wanda shook her head after wiping her counter down. She let go of the rag and chuckled. "Sorry." She glanced towards you again.

Still not noticing the WestView Witches baseball cap you're wearing to cover up your haircut.

"I'm rambling." Wanda brushes her apron and quickly unties it before fast walking to you with a spring in her step. She quickly kisses your lips and pulls away as she hangs up the apron. "How was your day?!" She looks towards you, and then that's when you see her notice in her eyes. Her mouth goes from a smile to a shocked look. She takes a step back and looks over your face before she reaches out and gently takes your chin, moving your face from side to side. "Y/n- I- when-" She can't form a sentence as she lifts her hand to the baseball cap. "Can I?" She asks after a beat.

You nod, afraid saying anything will spook her.

Slowly, Wanda grabs the end of the cap and lifts it off your head. You hear her breath hitch as she looks over your very short hair. Her fingers slowly run through your hair before she brings them down along the backside of your skull, where the buzz is prominent, making you shiver slightly at the contact of her nails brushing you.

Wanda notices as her eyes move to meet yours. "Does that hurt?" She asks carefully. You laugh through your nose and shake your head. "It feels good. Really great, actually." You say in the same tone as her. Wanda nods, glad that she isn't hurting you.

She brings her hand back up and runs through it again with more pressure. "How does that feel?" Wanda asks.

"Good. Touching the back is the best part." You say before making a joke. "I feel like sheared sheep." Wanda can't help but smile and laugh quietly before she removes her hand and brings it down to yours. Holding you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." You say, looking to Wanda, who looks to you, waiting for more. "It's just something I've always done. Do you hate it?" You then question, and just as quick as you ask, Wanda shakes her head, giving you an answer. "I don't hate it. I just wish I would've known." She squeezes your hand.

You nod.

After a few seconds, Wanda grips your hand. "How about while we let the pies cool, we can go sit and relax," Wanda says, making you nod and following her to the living room, sitting next to her on the couch in your usual spots.

Wanda flips through some channels before coming across a marathon of her favorite sitcom.

The two of you relax and cuddle into one another. Letting the surprise of your haircut fall into the back of everyone's mind.

After an episode of the show, you feel Wanda's hand move from scratching your back to up your neck and through the back of your head, stroking your buzz. You smile and let out a satisfied sigh that makes Wanda look over at you with her own smile. "I like it." She states making you feel warm and happy with your choice.

You turn to her. "I'm glad." Wanda leans into you and kisses you as her fingers scratch your head. "My little sheep." She jokes as you two part, making you roll your eyes. Playfully.

All in all, that joke wasn't as bad as when you brought Agatha her pie, and she turned to Wanda and said: "So how many Y/n's do you have to count in your sleep to you fall asleep?"

dividers by @/benkeibear

[wordsinhaled]

transmasc haircut woes ahead...

so i was growing out my hair again but it is starting to become annoying/a sensory nightmare this summer/doesn't feel like me/kinda gives me some dysphoria.

so i wanna give it the chop (again).

but the thing is i am. like. very intimidated by barber shops??? i live in a significantly queerer and more progressive city now than i used to which helps. but i'm still a tiny 4'10 pre-T transmasc person and i do not feel like i look like someone who "belongs" in a barber shop, if there is such a thing (i'm sure there isn't but the anxiety tells me there is).

i am sure i am overthinking it but being in like... a Designated Male Space feels quite scary. i struggle to even walk past florsheim's in the mall or have other men see me in the men's section of stores, if that gives you context on how scary all of this is for me. i have no idea what i think is gonna happen if i walk in there - like, anxiety brain says i'm gonna be gatekept out, people are gonna be like, "what are you doing here?" or "you're not masc enough to be in here," or whatever, i have LITERALLY no idea - and i'm sure i'm making a mountain out of a molehill and no one will actually be mean to me or bully me in a barber shop!

but the thing is i have like, no idea what goes on in there? and that's part of the anxiety, i guess. mind you, i know queer cis women go and get their hair cut in barber shops as well, so i guess... i also don't want to be read as that either?

i have gotten my hair cut before by a male hairdresser at a hair salon and it was a person my parents picked, a hair style my mom picked, and then he would dye my hair a Different Shade of Brown and my mom would give me frosted highlights or whatever at home, because she told me my natural hair color was boring and lacked depth. i had more or less zero control over the experience in terms of what i came out looking like. i was like... 23, 24 when this was still happening.

at one point, she took me to a consultation to get my hair chemically straightened (keratin, i think it was going to be) which would have gotten rid of my natural wavy texture, because i was "too lazy to put in the work" to do anything with my hair (because i wanted it to be short, most of the time, if anyone asked me). that was like, the one thing i brought myself to be able to say no to because. i didn't want to do that.

it took a while for my hair not to be processed to shit and to grow back in nice. but i fucking LOVE my natural hair color and texture and volume actually, it's beautiful, in my opinion, if i do say so myself. it's a lovely shade of brown and it's got amber/chestnut highlights in it in the sunshine and it has nice texture and it's soft. come pet my hair, basically.

anyway, sorry for the detour about Hair Styling Trauma but maybe this will help explain why the fuck i feel like i can't go and just Get My Hair Cut. lol, gotta love finally getting out from under the thumb of a narcissist and still having Shit Going On years later.

even up until the most recent time my hair was short, i have been going to hair salons (not barber shops) and i have been in that weird limbo of "girl asking for pixie cut," which is NOT the experience i want this time. every hairdresser i've ever had is always like, are you sure you want it this short? the last person who cut my hair was a pretty chill italian guy (like, came recently from italy, spoke italian in his shop, not like long-time italian-american type italian) who felt... probably the safest i've found because he was sort of relaxed about the whole thing and didn't get weird about it. but even with him, as close as i managed to verbalize what i want was to ask for something "gender neutral" because it felt like. incredibly scary to be like, "i do not want to look like girl. please do not make me look like girl."

he understood the assignment and is probably the one who would give me the best haircuts i've had. but even then it still sort of felt like i was... asking for it in a sort of weird adjacent-to-what-i-really-meant way and getting there by sheer coincidence of a person understanding the assignment vs like. please make me look more like boy. am not girl trying to look like boy. am not edgy girl with pixie cut. you feel me???

edit: also. i don't think that hair is inherently gendered one way or another, it's just like... the way that people tend to gender the process/different types and styles of hair that makes me uncomfortable and makes me feel misgendered. and like the perceptions of you that people have. and that a lot of the vibe is going to depend on how whatever individual haircut works with my face. and that when i go on T these things may also change. so i'm not trying to like... binary the hair but also... it's the dysphoria of how people talk to you/look at you/etc. at personal care places, you know?

i don't even necessarily want something with zero length, because my hair tends to look good when there's something there to style, but i just ... i don't want a Women's Short Haircut, you know??? at the same time i know that i have a Lot of Hair and people have fucked up my short haircuts before so i don't want a Bad Haircut either. i don't feel like i can do the same shit i always do again where i come in and sit there silently and slightly embarrassedly while i secretly hack my way into gender euphoria while the person thinks they're cutting a girl's hair.

anyway, what the fuck do i do and how do i not feel like dysphoria central during this whole process? what is a barber shop like? what do people talk about in there? can i just be quiet? is everything going to clock that i have not socialized with men like ever but want to? idk, do i lead with being transmasc? do i just bring sample photos of men's haircuts only and have a conversation about how they will work with my face shape? do i just say i am trying to look Not Like a Girl? that seems. incredibly terrifying. i would bring a queer friend to chill me out, but i haven't made any here yet to be able to bring.

asdjdjfj if u have read this far thank you and sorry for being a hot mess !!!

[kinsey3furry300]

While this is very cool, the big problem with this is, sometimes the traditional crafters are dead wrong because they don't realise just how new most traditional crafts are over an archaeological timescale. This is why achedemics should reach out to other communities to see if they have insight, but also why those communities should listen to what the achedemics say in return.

I remember reading archaeological text books where it said pre Colombian Mexicans kept knives in the rafters of buildings, and we didn't know why so it must be religious. Turns out if you don't have shelves that where you put them to stop your kids playing with them, no one had ever asked a mother with toddlers where they would keep them if they lived in this space. But I also remember reading a 2000+ word essay by a modern potter on how a lot of Greek pottery must be ornamental or ritual because its unglazed and as a result porous and won't hold fluids. Yeah, you cook with it once and the fat clogs the pores, and it holds fluid after that. That's been known archaeologically basically forever, and confirmed once the scanning electron microscope was invented, but to someone who's never cooked with the pots they make, they would never see it. We thought some hairdoos on roman staues must be wigs as no one could figer out how to do it, until they asked a hairdresser, who was able to re-create it by sewing hair in place. We ignored indigenous Easter Islanders when they said they walked thier statues into place, we forgot roman concrete, Lost the recipefor greek fire... but sometimes the acedemics spot clear problems in simple solutions offered by laypeople, and it causes wild misinformation about the past to spread if not countered. Knowledge has to be a two-way street.

Its like that weird roman dodecahedron, the idea that some granny solved it and knitted glove fingers using it is really really cool...

... its just a pity that knitting as a technology wasn't known until the 11tc century AD. Its a medieval Egyptian Arab technology to make more breathable cotton, and wasn't known in Europe until after the crusades. Nålebinding, or knottless knitting, may have been known in Scandinavia as early as the 5th century, but doesn't seem to have spread south and was unknown entirely in classical antiquity. We have a lot of well preserved fabrics from Greece and the roman empire, and while corse loose-knit wool fabrics are known, they are either made on a loom or basket-woven together by hand (with one late roman helmet liner that may be Nålebinding from a danish bog and one from an alpine salt mine but that's controversial). Knitting, historically speaking, is a new technology we've not yet found the boundaries for. Crochet is white-hot bleeding edge tech, being 18th century. It will be millenia before we understand the limitations of Crochet, and that's awesome.

Sometimes the nerds in their ivory towers need to listen to some wisdom from outside their comfort zone, and Sometimes traditional craftspeople need to be gently sat down and told that there are living tortoises older than their "traditional" craft. The experts are often wrong, and arrogant about it. The same unfortunately, its also true of the non experts. If an old mystery has a clear, simple, obvious solution that appeared online in the past ten years, give it a good hard look to see if that solution actually fits the evidence. Just becaues its a logical solution to us today, doest means its the logical solution people in the past would have picked. The world isn't usually simple enough to provide us with the satisfying answer we want, and that's okay.

Edit: quite funnily since posting this I have received an article on Roman Nålebinding, and it appears that while knitting with needles was indeed unknown in classical Greece and Rome, Nålebinding was in fact known and used in both Greece and Rome, but remained a niche thing only used in certain local areas. Fiber crafts really are the academic fronteer that never rests. As Ursula Vernon said "In historical accuracy there are two groups who will always spot if you're wrong by a single year and call you out: the gun people and the textiles people, and I fear the textiles people more."

Something I find incredibly cool is that they’ve found neandertal bone tools made from polished rib bones, and they couldn’t figure out what they were for for the life of them. 

Until, of course, they showed it to a traditional leatherworker and she took one look at it and said “Oh yeah sure that’s a leather burnisher, you use it to close the pores of leather and work oil into the hide to make it waterproof. Mine looks just the same.” 

“Wait you’re still using the exact same fucking thing 50,000 years later???”

“Well, yeah. We’ve tried other things. Metal scratches up and damages the hide. Wood splinters and wears out. Bone lasts forever and gives the best polish. There are new, cheaper plastic ones, but they crack and break after a couple years. A bone polisher is nearly indestructible, and only gets better with age. The more you use a bone polisher the better it works.”

It’s just. 

50,000 years. 50,000. And over that huge arc of time, we’ve been quietly using the exact same thing, unchanged, because we simply haven’t found anything better to do the job. 

[whumpurr]

Adrien and Sawdust part 8

cw: non sexual nudity, brief references to past non-con, pet whump, conditioned whumpee, self harm aftermath, ear whump aftermath, bathing

masterlist

Adrien blinked, almost pulling back when Sawdust held onto his wrist. Sawdust still seemed to be a bit out of it, but the pet looked Adrien in the eye,

“M… Master, please don’t get rid of me.” He squeaked out, pleading. “Please, please, Master!”

“Huh?” Adrien looked at Sawdust, confused. The pet shifted, and tried to get down from the couch. Dropping onto his knees in front of Adrien, Sawdust trained his eyes on the ground,

“Please, Master! I’m sorry!” He cried. Adrien was confused, he wasn’t sure what Sawdust was apologizing for.

“Okay, wait, wait,” Adrien inched back away from Sawdust to give the pet some more space. “I understand that your previous uh, Master wasn’t especially good to you. I don’t want to hurt you, okay? Can you tell me what you’re sorry for?” Adrien kept his voice as soft and nonthreatening as he could. Sawdust flinched, and kept his head down, but he spoke.

“I-I’m your property and- and I damaged your property.” Sawdust whimpered.

“Hey, that’s alright, I’m not mad at you. I just would prefer you don’t uh, do that, because I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Adrien kept his hands firmly in his lap, not wanting to spook Sawdust any further. “Can you tell me why you did that?”

Sawdust fiddled with his hands, squeezing his fingers.

“I- you- my ears… I w- if you couldn’t see my second ears you- you might give me real ones back.” His voice grew quieter and quieter, and Adrien figured that he shouldn’t push him too much more.

Adrien thought for a moment on what Sawdust could’ve meant by ‘second ears’. He looked over at Sawdust, eyes tracking over his body. It all clicked into place; the false ears that were originally on top of Sawdust’s head weren’t there. Adrien had taken them off when Sawdust collapsed in the hallway.

“Oh… Oh, my god, Sawdust I’m so, so sorry. Wait here, I’ll go get your things.” Adrien was quick to turn and leave, running upstairs. He soon returned with Sawdust’s duffel bag, putting it down between him and the pet, unzipping it. “Here, here take your- anything, this is all your stuff.”

Sawdust kept hurriedly glancing between his own hands and back up at Adrien as he reached in, looking like he expected Adrien to rip the bag away at the last second. Sawdust didn’t bother searching, he just grabbed the first pair of ears that was on top of the pile, hardly even looking at them before putting them on.

“Okay, I know now that I should’ve done this way before now, but we gotta establish some ground rules.” Adrien kept his expression neutral, trying not to appear too stern, “One: you eat with me, every day. I need to see that you’re eating. Two, uh, you have to tell me if you want something. I’m not going to punish you for asking for anything. And, um… Three is that you can talk whenever you want. You won’t get punished for that either. You understand?”

Sawdust nodded his head and Adrien just had to hope that the pet actually took in what he was saying.

“Okay, right, and uh- from now on, you need to stay with me in my office while I’m working. I can’t just… I can’t let you roam around the house and risk something like this happening again.” It felt like he was taking away Sawdust’s privacy, his freedom, but he couldn’t allow the pet to injure himself again. “Those are the rules for now. If they change, I’ll tell you.”

Sawdust gave a shaky nod, bottom lip still wobbling and eyes still wet.

“Y-...” Sawdust started before falling silent. Adrien waited patiently and when Sawdust realized that he wasn’t going to be told to keep quiet, he continued, “You won’t get rid of me?”

“If you don’t want me to, no.” The words came out with a sigh. “I wouldn’t just throw you out onto the street, you know. I was talking about finding someone better for you to live with.”

“But-! But I like it h-here.” Sawdust lurched forward, “Please, Master!”

“I won’t! I won’t get rid of you or give you up, okay?”

Sated by that answer, Sawdust fell quiet once more.

“You’re covered in blood, Sawdust. We need to clean you up. And…” With a gentle, careful hand, Adrien reached out and took one of the mats in Sawdust’s hair in his fingers, “We can cut these out, if you want. Give me a second.”

Adrien stood and disappeared into the kitchen, returning and urging Sawdust to follow him, which he did. Sawdust climbed up the steps with Adrien, following him into the bathroom.

“Alright, stand up.”

--

Sawdust stood on his shaky, unused legs. Pets weren’t meant to walk on two legs, that was reserved for humans. Being so far from the floor made him feel unsteady, he felt like he was going to fall over. He wondered briefly if Master was making him stand just so that he could throw him down again.

“You’ve got all kinds of tangles in your hair.” Master said behind him. Sawdust glanced up into the mirror, finally seeing what Adrien had gotten from the kitchen. A pair od black handled, sharp scissors. Sawdust tensed, shoulders rising and a whine building in the back of his throat. Was Master going to take his other second ear, too?

“This might pinch a little bit, alright?” Master said. Sawdust squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he couldn’t possibly bear watching in the mirror.

The pain he anticipated never came. All he felt were a few tugs on his hair. The cool air around him was suddenly hitting his neck. Briefly, his ears were removed and there were some tugs at the top of his head before the ears returned. Then Master put something crinkly over his hurt second ear.

“It’s a little patchy, I’m no hairdresser, but it should work for now. What do you think?”

Sawdust cracked his eyes open and looked at himself in the mirror. His shoulder length hair had been cut short, the mats that were clumped in it were gone. It felt strange, so he looked away from the mirror, slumping back down onto his knees.

“I’m going to go get some towels and stuff, come with me.” Master stepped out of the bathroom, heavy footsteps tracking around the house as he visited the small door in the hallway for some towels, then his bedroom for clothing, before coming back to the bathroom.

Next, the rushing sound of water filled the room as Master began allowing the white bath tub to fill. Sawdust didn’t quite understand what was going on. Master poured something into the tub and it began to bubble.

“We’re gonna get you all nice and clean,” Master said, rolling up his sleeves and dipping his hand into the filling tub. Sawdust stared at the bubbly water. This was for him, right? He’d never been bathed anywhere except with a quick splash from the hose outside. He waited for his master to pour bleach or something into the water before forcing him under it. Maybe that was what that bubbly stuff was. Sawdust couldn’t stop himself from whining from the stress.

“Shh, it’ll be alright. Water’s not too hot, come feel.”

Sawdust crept over next to his master and dangled his hand over the water. He froze for a moment before allowing his fingertips to dip below the surface. The water was warm and, much to his surprise, it didn’t burn or hurt. He swished his hand around in the water, looking up to his grinning Master.

“Nice, right? We can get you in there as soon as you’re ready.” Master flicked some water off his hand and stood up, “I can face this way while you get undressed.” He said, turning to face the door.

Sawdust didn’t know why exactly he was looking away. As the pet began to pull his tattered shirt over his head, he pondered. Master probably didn’t like his body anyways, it was all beat up and ugly. His pants came off next and then, hesitantly, his ears, which he set on top of the pile of clothes outside the tub. Then he kneeled outside the tub, waiting for Master’s next instructions. After a little bit, Master turned around and quickly looked away.

Master not wanting to see Sawdust hurt even more than if he did stare at him. Sawdust was at least used to people looking at him like this, he had nothing to hide anyways- pets had no dignity, after all.

“Okay, come on, let’s get you in here.” Master stood up next to the tub and offered a hand to Sawdust. Sawdust shakily put his paw in his master’s hand and climbed into the tub, trying his hardest not to tip over on his stupid mutt legs.

--

“That good?” Adrien asked once Sawdust got seated in the water. Sawdust contemplated for a moment before nodding slowly. Adrien took a plastic cup that he brought from the kitchen and began to scoop water into it. “I’m gonna… I’ll pour some water on your back now, okay?”

It felt like he was taking care of a child. He tried to think of it that way, it was more preferable than imagining he was bathing a dog. The soapy water cascaded down Sawdust’s back and Adrien realized that this was the first time he was seeing such expanses of his pet’s skin.

Sawdust’s back was littered with marks, many of them looked like scratches from animals, many more looked like cigarette burns. Some were newer than others. Dividing them were the mountainous peaks of his spine, nearly poking through the skin.

“I have some soap here, it smells nice, I think you’ll like it.” Adrien picks up the washcloth and adds some of the body wash. “I’m going to rub this on your back, it shouldn’t hurt, I don’t think you have any open wounds here.”

Adrien cleaned Sawdust’s back slowly and carefully, the white washcloth getting smudged with dirty brown before Adrien would dunk it into the water. By the time he was rinsing off Sawdust’s back from the soap, the pet had relaxed, chest no longer tight with held breaths, and spine no longer strung taut.

“Here,” Adrien handed the cloth to Sawdust, “I put some more soap on it, you can do the rest of your body.”

Sawdust simply held the sopping cloth in his hand, fingers curled around it like a claw. He looked up at Adrien with a confused look.

“Like- uh, like this,” Adrien made a rubbing motion over his own forearm, and Sawdust mimicked it. Gradually and slowly, Sawdust managed to wash his own body, but he looked… Out of it.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Adrien asked from where he knelt outside of the tub. Sawdust flinched and looked away. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me.”

Sawdust’s jaw was set and his whole body was all tensed up.

“Master didn’t- didn’t want to l-look at- at me,” His voice was wobbly and full of unspilled tears, “Pet is ugly.” Those words came out as a squeak, but more certain than anything else he’d said.

“Oh,” Adrien didn’t know what to say to that, “I don’t- that’s not why I didn’t look at you, I just thought you’d uh, you’d like some privacy. Trust me I don’t think that you’re ugly or anything, okay?”

Sawdust gave a warbled little ‘mmh’ in response, and Adrien wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

“Do you want me to wash your face?” Adrien held up a bottle of his own face wash, “I’ll be gentle, and next time you can do it on your own.”

Sawdust agreed and Adrien wet his hands and began washing Sawdust’s face, the pads of his thumbs gentle against his pet’s hollow, pale face. Sawdust shivered the whole time.

Adrien washed Sawdust’s hair next. He’d put some plastic wrap and extra gauze over Sawdust’s injury, so it remained relatively dry. He was as gentle as he could be with Sawdust’s hair, washing it a couple of times until the suds were white, rather than a murky gray-brown.

The rest of the bath passed in near silence, with Adrien making the occasional remark and Sawdust never truly responding. Afterwards, Adrien helped him dry off, and gave him some of his own clothing to wear for the time being. Even though the items were the smallest things he owned, they were still grossly oversized on Sawdust.

Finally, Sawdust’s ears were put back on top of his head, and Adrien tied his tail around his waist for him.

“We can go shopping tomorrow and get you some clothes and stuff.” Adrien said. “I think we should eat some breakfast- lunch? Is it lunch time? No matter, come on, I’ll get you fed.”

--

Sawdust moved to follow his master out of the bathroom, but he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. He simply stood there for a moment, looking at himself.

He was all clean. His wound was bandaged. He was wearing his master’s clothing. Pets like him didn’t deserve such things. They didn’t deserve proper grooming, but there he was with a new hair cut. It made him feel disgusting in comparison to the care that’d been given to his body.

He’d have to make it up to his master somehow.

taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @whumpcreations @dancinglifeboat @pinkraindropsfell @looptheloup @cowboy-anon @meetmeinhellcroutons @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @it-will-all-whump-out

[ace-of-sspades]

Trans masc tips.

just because I’ve been researching and figuring a lot out and I wanted to share.

Disclaimer for this whole thing. You’re identity is valid regardless of how you present and really masculine and feminine things don’t even exists. Gender is a social construct. But here are tips to present more traditionally masculine, at least in my experience and for my body. Also I am non-binary so I don’t really try to pass as a man, just as not a girl, and I am 17 and not out to my family so I’m sure that will effect my advice.

Clothing

- Cloths that are tight around your arms/wrists or ankles at the cuff. It makes your limbs look bigger. Like sinched pants or rolling your sleeves.

- In general stuff that’s tight on the shoulders and baggy around your waist

- Tucking your shirt in can help make your figure look more square

- Darker shirts are sliming and help eliminate any shadow from your chest. Also they hide binders better

- Baggy pants, especially around the thighs. Try to avoid skinny jeans.

- In general layers!! And things with high collars.

- Wearing stuff across your brow line!!!!! Like a hat worn flat across your forehead or a bandana. It makes your face look more angular. This is a saving grace.

Make up

- Okay I know it sounds counter intuitive but it can really help. I suck at make up and these things have helped me so you don’t have to know what your doing. Also you can use a bronzer a darker foundation or even brown eyeshadow, all of it works.

- Contour your jaw!!! It’s barely every noticeable even if you use a lot of contour and it makes your jaw look so much sharper. If you have a butt chin even slightly, adding some there helps a lot, and at the corners of your jaw under your ears.

- Okay so these next tips take more subtlety. But contour your nose, just along the sides and under the tip. It helps give your face depth.

- Also put some in the crease of your eye near your nose, just a little because too much here will look like eyeshadow.

- You can also do your cheek bones and your temple but be careful because if you put too much it’s very noticeable.

- I have thick and dark eyebrows already so I don’t usually do anything to them but mascara does make them look thicker. I recommend using clear mascara or sometimes I’ll rub my black mascara on my arm to get the majority off and then use it on my eyebrows just to give them more volume. It can be tricky to do this without making it obvious. Also putting some darker eyeshadow over them can fill in any gaps and make them look thicker.

Voice

- This is tricky but sometimes I get dysphoria over having a too feminine voice, I really want an androgynous voice and here’s how I’ve at least made myself feel better about it. Idk if anyone else can tell a difference but still.

- I know nothing about singing or pitch or whatever but,,, singing in the car to songs with male vocalists really helps. It’s not even about harmonizing, and I suck at singing but even just talking the words helps. Plus if you feel weird practicing alone in your room or while you talk to someone this is a perfect fix because odds are you already sing when your alone in your car and no one will hear you.

- The most important thing is try to emulate the quality of the vocalists voice. Like say the words the way they do, over time this gives you more control over what your voice sounds like. A lot of male voices echo more or are heavier sounding and this is a way to get your voice to do that.

- Try to lower your voice if you can, it can help to say ahhh and then go deeper and try to speak at that level. But don’t try to lower your voice and scream because it h u r t s.

- Also trying your best to sit up straight and take a deep breath before you speak helps quite a bit.

- Your vocal cords are muscles, so the more you practice the easier it’ll be to control the quality and depth of your voice.

- Finally, don’t damage your voice to make it sound more masculine. I’ve done it before, I’d yell really loud to a song and be happy when my voice is horse after but it does damage your vocal cords so try not to.

Body language

- Take. Up. Space!!! Sit with your legs wider and your shoulders back. If you cross your legs do it with one shin over the other thigh not at the ankles.

- Walk in two lines not one. Like try not to put one foot directly in front of the other when you walk. Also your best to keep your shoulders and hips straight and even.

- Standing try to keep your weight even don’t lean on one foot.

- Keep your hand movements deliberate and try not to fidget.

- Also real quick, work out tips. Focus on your shoulders and arm!!! Tricep, pecs, lats, deltoids, biceps. Adding as much mass to these as possible will help immensely. Also working forearms will help make your veins more prominent.

Hair

- If you can’t cut it short that’s okay!! Tying it back in a messy low bun helps a lot. Before I cut my hair I did this all the time and I felt like hozier

- Also curtain bangs! If you’re closeted they still are perceived as totally feminine. But if you wear a beanie or a hood they give you the appearance of short hair.

- If you can cut your hair, try not to fall into the trap of “I must shave my head”. Some people can totally pull it off and obviously if you’ve always wanted too go for it! But it might not help you pass. Short hair exposes your jaw line a lot more. And AFAB jaws are normally a lot softer than AMAB jaws. I recommend cutting your hair in stages, just to see what looks best.

- Jaw length or mid ear length works as masculine too! And it can help add depth to your face. I have a pretty soft jaw and my hair currently looks kinda like JD from Heathers and it works pretty well.

- Hair is honestly very tricky and there’s really no way to get a completely masc hair cut. But in general longer on the top and shorter on the sides works well.

- Honestly my biggest tip for teenage trans masc folks is to find a hair dresser/barber that doesn’t cut your hair to look feminine. Like the family hairdresser you’ve been going too since you were 5? They definitely have an idea of what you should look like and will add their own touch. And if you’re not out to your parents it’s hard to come out to a family hairdresser. My recommendation is do some research and find a place nearby that cuts men and women’s hair, that way you don’t have to worry about passing enough to get into an only men’s barbershop, but they’ll still know how to cut men’s hair. Either way definitely go to someone new, and if you can ask specifically for a men’s hair cut.

Anyway there’s my tips. Feel free to add, and sorry this is kinda a long post lol. I’ve been compiling this for months and I hope it can help someone.

[onlyherefortheshowmances]

So I saw someone else get an anon message that said: “I hate to admit this, but I really can't shake the feeling that Benji loves Victor more than Victor loves Benji at this point.” I wanted to respond as well, because I think this is something people are probably seeing a lot and I really want to explain how I’m looking at it (from personal experience and just from looking at and examining the characters).

CW/TW: Mental Health, suicidal ideation/action mention, Addiction, Emotional Trauma, sex mention, Predatory relationship mention, catholicism, homophobia, misunderstandings, lack of communication, spoilers for love victor seasons 1 & 2 [let me know if I missed anything please]

I want to be frank in saying that Benji is my favorite character and I project onto him a lot (along with seeing a lot of myself in him). I’m also white AF, so I’m sure some of you think that’s relevant, but I really don’t think it is in this particular case. I do also however identify with Victor in a number of ways and I am trying to see the characters both as complex individuals with deep personal histories. Both have suffered traumas and both are clearly dealing with a lot of their own shit on top of being sixteen/seventeen and dealing with junior year of high school and all the pressures and expectations that brings for everyone.

I think what people are interpreting at loving someone more/less is actually about prioritizing someone/a relationship more/less. In my mind, from what I see on screen and interpret, they both love each other beyond words. They are both very much in love with one another. It comes down to how they display that to each other and to the public as well as where on their list of priorities this relationship falls.

Let’s start with Victor, struggles and life:

He is dealing with internalized homophobia and associated thought-patterns stemming from his upbringing in the Catholic church as well from the vocalized homophobic remarks from his mother (toward himself and Benji as well as likely at other points in his life toward strangers), his father (stating that he hopes Adrian doesn’t turn out ‘like that’; the scene in S1 where they’re at the church in Texas and he calls the hairdresser ‘flojito’; etc.), and his grandparents (on his birthday and likely at other points in his life). As a result of this, Victor tried to make himself straight (or at least interested in a girl) by dating Mia because he did like her as a person and everyone was telling him that’s what he was supposed to do. He ended up hurting her and almost losing her friendship (temporarily, he did, but she does seem to have forgiven him now).

He is dealing with outside homophobia as well. That kid on the very first day he was Creekwood responding to Benji helping him up. Felix’s comment that same day of ‘you don’t want to give people the wrong idea.’ The basketball team/gym class guys roasting him about not hooking up with Mia on the ferris wheel. Felix saying he’d be crazy to not like Mia. Lake asking ‘are you gay or something’ when he brought Felix along to Mia’s house, etc., etc. Some of these things may seem innocent enough, but they weren’t. Not to Victor who was already struggling to accept even the possibility that he might be gay. Once he managed to come out to his parents, obviously his father got better fairly quickly, but Isabel continued to struggle for six months which put even more pressure on Victor to try to lead this double life. Once he came out at school, the whole fiasco with the basketball team also occurred and that was a lot for him, because Basketball as always his safe-space. It’s where he went to get away from all the other pressure. It was something he didn’t have to think about and now suddenly, he did. Those pressure are also affecting his ability to think about what he may want and it seems affecting his ability to think (at all sometimes) about how any of that is also affecting Benji. It’s affecting him so much that he’s basically blind to how it’s also affecting Benji to see him suffer. He doesn’t even consider that possibility until Felix brings up how hard it is for him the night Felix breaks up with Lake and Venji get caught having sex.

Victor also has struggles away from just his coming out and accepting himself journey. He has the struggles associated with his parents separation. Until fairly recently, Victor always thought his parents had a perfect relationship. He saw that as the ideal. Get together in High School, get married right away, stay together for ever, happily ever after. That’s what he was raised to expect. And now he’s seeing their relationship fall apart before his eyes. Hell, his devoutly Catholic mother had an affair, and he’s wondering if it’s really possible for your first love to be your only love especially after he and Benji start butting heads, so he’s already vulnerable to that viewpoint when Rahim brings up the possibility. He gets so lost in what’s happening to his parents and what Rahim is saying about it not usually working out that he forgets how in love he is and he sort of loses his will to fight for what he wants, because maybe it’s just doomed to fail anyway (until he sees Benji at the wedding and it sort of hits again - and then Felix’s speech thereafter, obviously). He kind of loses his way by getting caught up in the statistic improbability of your first love being the one and watching his parents’ marriage potentially fall apart and he wonders for a moment if it might be easier, if it might be better to just walk away and go toward Rahim who he seem to get along with and seems to understand the things Benji doesn’t about him, but what he fails to examine in that moment is that he’s only barely scratched the surface with Rahim and that Rahim doesn’t know him like Benji does and that every relationship has it’s ups and downs and what it always comes down to is how willing both parties are to work to make things right. How much you’re willing to step into the other person’s shoes and try to understand. In my opinion, even if he were to walk away from Benji and go to Rahim, that bubble of understanding isn’t going to last forever either. He’s failing to remember that when he got together with Benji (and for most of the summer it seems) that’s exactly what it was like and failing to remember that they have grown beyond that into a deep soul-altering love for one another that deserves his time, energy, and effort and NEEDS those things to keep it going.

Now let’s talk about Victor’s priorities in life:

Victor has always been close with his family, especially his mother. The strain on that relationship is very taxing on his mental well-being. He has a hard time ‘standing up to’ her or talking back to her, etc. because he loves her and he just wants their easy, close relationship back. He already overcame his own anger at her affair to get her back, but now she’s the one pulling away because of his sexuality and it’s hurting him because if he was able to forgive her for something that was actually wrong, why can’t she forgive him for something that he has no control over. So he loves his mother and his family and he hates disappointing them. He has spent most of his life fixing his family’s issues (as he explains to Simon in S1), but now he is the issue and he doesn’t know how to handle it. When in 2x1 he decides to just bring Benji over and try exposure therapy with his mom, it backfires in a big way. Even though they barely touch each other. Even though Benji just says the word boyfriend once, it’s too much for Isabel and Victor desperately wants to please. He desperately wants to not lose his mother (who has always been the person he is closest to), so that causes him to take a step back from going against her and the steps he still takes (telling her he wants her to call Benji his boyfriend not just his friend, the whole conversation outside the church, the conversation with Adrian, etc.) are things that Benji doesn’t get to see happening and it frustrated Victor that Benji won’t even listen to him when he tries to say that his mom is making progress at all, because she is so important to him and yet it seems like Benji just doesn’t even recognize or care about that. This leads him to say the thing he does at Brasstown before Benji runs out, because he assumes that it has to do with Benji being white and of course, that is part of it, but I think Victor in that moment is so overwhelmed by the rejection of his mother and now the refusal of his boyfriend to even try to understand that he snaps. He forgets all the struggles Benji has told him from his own past and he just lashes out which causes Benji to leave [more on Benji’s viewpoint of this whole thing later].

Victor also loves basketball. It’s true that in some case LGBTQIA+ individual participate in certain activities to make them seem more ‘normal’. Gay men participating in sports to seem more macho is a common one, so Benji thinking that’s why Victor plays basketball makes sense to an extend, but he never bothers to ask Victor about, only makes assumptions, and Victor feels like the fact that he actually likes sports makes him ‘not gay enough’ (see conversation with Andrew). What he’s forgetting entirely is his encounter with Bram and the gay basketball league in NYC from episode 1x8. There are many ways to be gay, and sports gays do exist and are perfectly valid. That’s not the type of gay Benji or his friends/bandmates are, but it is the type that Victor is and Benji failing to recognize that and failing to understand or even ask Victor about that drives one of many wrenches into their relationship. In episode 1x5 when Benji shows up to Victor’s first game back on the team and does the Go Grizzlies dance with the other basketball girlfriends, it definitely does a lot of help Victor realize this was just a miscommunication/misunderstanding rather than anything malicious. Basketball and his teammates continue to be a priority for him after this, but that seems to be something Benji is now capable of understanding.

Finally, Victor loves Benji. He wants to be with Benji; there is zero doubt about that. However, for Victor when he’s put on the spot (as in episode 2x8) and basically told he has to choose his mom (who has raised him and been his closest confidant and biggest supporter for his entire life) or his boyfriend (who he’s known for almost a year and been dating for six months and is helplessly in love with) it processes as an error message in his brain. He just wants everyone to get along. He’s not mad that Adrian knows that he’s gay (he’s wanted him to know for months), but he is upset that his mom is now even angrier. [see my section about Benji in this moment, for more about Isabel’s reactions as well] In his mind, telling Adrian could wait. In his mind, he was willing to go along with his mom’s requests for a while longer just to keep the peace so to speak. He didn’t want his whole life to fall apart and that’s what he thought was about to happen in that moment. That’s why he asked Benji to leave. He didn’t want to make his mom any angrier. Could he have chosen his words better? Yes. Could he have made Benji understand better? Yes. But he’s sixteen and his brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity because post-sex brain is definitely a thing and he was also looking at his mom who has already been horrible and barely able to look at him for six months, looking even angrier after he finally thought they’d made some progress after church the previous week.

So in conclusion, regarding Victor:

He loves his family (especially his mom). He loves Benji. He loves Basketball. Obviously, he’s not going to prioritize basketball over either of the human beings involved, but I think it’s important to at least note it’s importance in his life. As for Isabel vs. Benji. To Victor, these are the two most important people in his life. All he wants is to be able to love both of them and have both of them love him in return. When they are pit against each other, especially directly, it’s hard for him to make a choice. It’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to his mom and it’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to Benji, but in the moment (episode 2x8 specifically), he takes Isabel’s side, because he knows the ramifications of saying no to her and of making her even more angry that she already is are far worse than the ones for asking Benji to leave for the night. He failed to realize however, how close Benji already was to the edge and how upset he was going to be and how little he understood (or was willing to try to understand) about the situation. This is something he really needs to communicate with Benji (even though it’s not quite as important now that Isabel’s apparently come around). I think it’s important for Benji to understand that Victor values his relationship with his mother enough that it’s difficult for him to go against her without a lot of preparation and having a fully fledged reason, etc.

Now for Benji - Struggles and Life:

The obvious of course is that Benji is a sixteen/seventeen year old that’s barely a year sober and attending AA meetings regularly. Recovering from Alcoholism is difficult at any age let alone for a teenager. One of the most important factors in recovery is looking at the things that led you to drink in the first place. Looking at things that may be considered triggers and either learning to avoid those people/situations or learning healthy alternatives in those situations. I have multiple family members who are both actively drinking alcoholics as well as those in recovery. I also lost my best friend/ex-fiancé to alcoholism a few years ago, so to say I have some personal experience in this arena is putting it lightly. Benji admits to Victor in 1x7 that he used to drink a lot because he knew he was gay, but didn’t want to be. To me that whole story screamed, I’m an alcoholic and while a lot of others agreed with that opinion. I was not shocked that Victor didn’t understand that underlying truth. Those that don’t have intimate familiarity with alcoholism often do not recognize the signs (either as they happen when when they are not directly told). It is made clear in episodes 2x7 & 2x8 that Benji hates this part of himself, in fact he says as much to Victor when he arrives at his apartment late the night of his birthday. Benji has still not fully accepted that the alcoholic part of himself that attends AA meetings and drinks orange juice while his friends are drinking vodka is one and the same with the part of himself that loves Victor with all his heart. This is something I’d really like to see him reconcile and work on in season 3 and beyond. Understand that you can’t compartmentalize yourself. You are but one whole person and all facets of yourself are in fact part of the singular you. [Not accounting for those with dissociative identity disorder.] It’s not directly mentioned if he’s still struggling with urges to drink, but most if not all alcoholics do, especially when experiencing those aforementioned triggers. Seeing Benji meeting with his sponsor after the incident with Isabel/Victor is not shocking to me and if anything, that was the healthy and correct response on his part. The reason he was drinking in the first place was that he was gay and didn’t want to be (internalized and probably external homophobia) and he just experience some really intense homophobia at the hands of his boyfriend’s mom (and partially said boyfriend himself). Benji’s lack of understanding of where Isabel was coming from in episode 1x8 speaks volumes to just how traumatize Benji still is about his own experiences with homophobia. The only thing he can think about in that moment is that this woman hates me for being gay. She hates her son for being gay. Being gay isn’t okay, etc. What he doesn’t factor in is that Isabel is also devoutly Catholic. I honestly don’t think it’s the gay part of the sex that horrified her the most. The Catholic faith is also very clear on the practice of abstinence from sex (at all) prior to marriage. She would’ve responded the same way had she walked in on Victor having sex with a girl, in my opinion, but in the moment Benji’s own trauma is overriding his ability to understand that because all he can see is the homophobia. This is especially true after she calls him Victor’s friend rather than his boyfriend and that in my opinion, is why he snaps. Could he have phrased it better? Yes. Could he have said it without shouting? Yes. But he is a freshly seventeen-year-old whose brain is not functioning on all cylinders in that moment.

Sort of coupled with his alcoholism and recovery therefrom is the allusion his mother makes to ‘dark times’ following his accident. I do have suspicions that perhaps he was also struggling with mental illness, and likely continues to. Depression to the point of suicidal ideation or actions (possibly only in the form of drinking, but possibly in other forms as well). Anxiety is pretty obvious from his actions and reactions throughout the series as well. I also think he is dealing with some sort of trauma-based disorder stemming from the homophobia he experienced (especially the instance of his father taking him to strip-club). It may go as far as C-PTSD (which I myself am diagnosed with) or it maybe something less (or even more). I’m not in the habit of sticking mental health diagnoses of people (fictional or otherwise though). Dealing with these things on top of what in his eyes feels like rejection from not only Isabel, but in a way from Victor as well likely causes some very unpleasant thought patterns and the potential for thought spirals and the likely. I also see indications that he could suffer from co-dependency (whish I also have dealt with in the past), but I’m honestly not sure if that’s me projecting or if it’s actually there.

Then on top of all of that, his boyfriend who he loves more than anything in the world, tells his deepest darkest secret to someone he’s literally never met or spoken to and that said boyfriend has only known for maybe a week at best and thinks it’s no big deal. In that moment, I can 110% see why Benji requests to take a break and I feel that choice is 110% the right one to make. What is a relationship built on if not trust? Victor just destroyed most if not all of the trust Benji had in him. That doesn’t mean he stopped loving him, just that he doesn’t trust him. Love isn’t something you can turn off and on like a light switch especially not the kind these two share. I definitely think Victor has a lot of explaining to do and a lot of apologies to make. I do also think they both need to have a really long, really honest and open conversation. Benji needs to be willing to get a little vulnerable and explain why certain things are causing him so much distress, but he also needs to be willing to listen to Victor explain why he can’t simply go against his mother as Benji seems to think he should. They both really demonstrated a degree of selfishness this season along with an lack of communication and a lack of willingness to understand or even try to understand each other’s points of view and that is a recipe for disaster in any relationship.

There also exists the issue of Benji’s parents. His mother especially seems to overstep quite frequently and insert herself into his life where she was not invited or expected. I do wonder if this was always her personality or if this is something that started after Benji’s accident. I have a hunch it was likely the latter. I see indications that perhaps there was some neglect or just general indifference on his parents part as he was growing up. They clearly missed that he had started drinking heavily and that he stole his dad’s car that night. He was also evidently dating Derek for quite a while before the accident. (Derek is another section by himself though.) This not to mention the fact that his father took him to a strip club and paid for a lap dance when he was no more than sixteen if he was even that old, in an effort to turn him straight. Benji tells Victor in episode 1x7 that he and his dad used to be close and that they used to go to Dollywood on road trips and other such things, but that he’s been distant since he came out. We see from the scene where he walks in on Benji and Victor making out that he’s not vocally/outwardly homophobic, but I would not doubt that he still harbors some of those viewpoints in himself. It’s evident to me that Benji is not close to his parents (he may once have been, but at this point it’s pretty clear that he’s not anymore). Benji doesn’t have siblings to the best of our knowledge. It’s also mentioned that his nana (like a paternal grandmother) is deceased, so it’s really not clear how much contact he even has with his extended family or how much of one exists. For these reasons, in his mind, there is no circumstance where his family (especially not his parents) would take precedence of his own happiness or Victor’s. That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him that Victor doesn’t stand up to Isabel, because if the roles were reversed, he would have no problem at all telling his own mother (or father) off. He doesn’t seem to comprehend Victor’s need to keep his relationship with his mother intact. I’m very glad Isabel pointed out to him that Victor has stood up to her and risked their relationship for him, but the disconnect still lies in that Benji isn’t a fan of the fact that he didn't’ do that in his presence and that he didn’t do more.

Then there’s Derek. Derek is at least a sophomore in college in season 2 as he was clearly in college in season 1 as well. Meaning he is at least 19/20 when Benji is 16/17. They had been together for a year the previous spring (episode 1x6) which means they started dating when Benji was 15 and Derek was no younger than 18 (I think he is like at least a year older than the youngest possibility). Georgia’s age of consent is 16, and there are no ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in place in the state meaning it is categorically illegal for anyone 18 years of age or older to engage in sexual acts with anyone 15 years of age or younger unless they are legally wed, meaning until Benji’s 16th birthday, this relationship was illegal in general not to mention the predatory nature of someone in college dating a high school sophomore to begin with. They generally don’t prosecute if the people involved are within 4 years of each other though (which coincides with ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in other states) which they could’ve been within depending on Derek’s actual age and birthday. It doesn’t seem like charges were filed either way which is questionable on Benji’s parents part. Benji also tells Victor in 1x10 that Derek made him feel bad a lot of the time about the things he like and about being a romantic, we also see Derek crap all over Benji’s special anniversary date in 1x6. The toxicity of that relationship is sure to have left it’s mark on Benji and carried over into his new relationship with Victor. I also find it questionable that knowing that, Benji was shitting all over Victor’s love for basketball at one point (isn’t that exactly what he complained about Derek doing to him about his interests?), though as you see in my earlier comments, I do understand that perhaps Benji wasn't’ fully aware that Victor actually liked basketball and wasn’t just doing it to seem straight/make his dad happy/etc. I also think it’s quite confusing that Victor managed to come up with that date idea for Benji in 1x6 and then the best he could do for Benji’s birthday was champagne and sex? I’d be more than marginally hurt over that if I was Benji, to be completely fair. It is also worth it to note that Benji stayed with Derek for over a year despite all of their problems (which goes back to the possibility of co-dependency issues) and yet he was willing to break up with him just to chase after the possibility of Victor. They had already connected on so many levels even prior to that night that even the possibility of that relationship made Benji willing to leave someone he’d been with for more than a year (obviously Victor’s little speech in the hallway played a part in that).

Benji’s Priorities:

In Benji’s world, he has a few things that could be considered priorities.

Maintaining his sobriety is obviously one, but he keeps that separate from everything else. I don’t see it being held above or below anyone or anything. It’s just a completely separate thing to him (which again I feel he needs to reconcile). He was able to do that while also appeasing his friends and Victor (see episode 2x4 where he switches out his cups).

His music/band is obviously a priority, but again that’s something basic that everyone knows about and accepts. He doesn’t have choose between that and anything or anyone else that we’re shown.

Victor is his primary priority however. To him, that is the most important relationship/person in his life. He doesn’t know what he’d do without him. He says he loves that part of his life which I take to mean, he loves who he is when they’re together and not so much when they’re apart. To him, there is no question of who he would choose if there was a choice in front of him between Victor and literally anyone else (including his parents). That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him when the choice isn’t so simple for Victor when he actually has to make one between Benji and Isabel. Benji isn’t close with his parents and he doesn’t seem to understand what it is like for someone that is. Even if his parents didn’t come around right away. Even if they still may not be fully on board with everything, it didn't’ matter that much to him, because he could stand up to them because he didn’t care about destroying a relationship, because there already wasn’t much of one to begin with. This leads to him not understanding that Victor is seriously conflicted in the moments where he is made to choose between his boyfriend and his mother, because to Benji that choice is crystal clear. Again, they could really do with an honest conversation about this where Benji actually listens and tries to understand where Victor’s coming from, because right now, I think he just doesn’t quite get it. It’s clear that Isabel’s speech at Brasstown helped him to understand or at least start to, and obviously now that Isabel isn’t so much of an obstacle everything becomes a little easier, but it is still something that I really feel they need to discuss and understand about each other.

In conclusion:

Both of these boys need therapy (individual, family, and couples), and they would really benefit from a lot more open and honest communication where they both are able to speak honestly about their needs and desires as well as both being able to listen to and understand (or try to at least) one another.

[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo 

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language 

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon. 

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe. 

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together. 

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red. 

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. 

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in. 

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote. 

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on. 

 “I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.” 

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words. 

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it. 

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands. 

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips. 

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing. 

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff. 

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!” 

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder. 

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building. 

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears. 

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you. 

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina. 

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed. 

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.” 

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you. 

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.” 

“I told her I was on my way here.” 

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine. 

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend. 

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.” 

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.” 

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?” 

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?” 

No, he couldn’t. 

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.” 

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” 

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you. 

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be. 

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop. 

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display. 

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché. 

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together. 

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren. 

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him. 

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.” 

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“ 

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. 

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs. 

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!” 

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground. 

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“ 

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way. 

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.” 

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again. 

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears. 

“Okay. One more chance.” 

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis. 

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction. 

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“ 

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice. 

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.” 

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes. 

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.” 

“Sure thing.” 

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek. 

“Get home safe, Kook.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

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if you aren’t tagged, it’s because tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for some reason. so sorry! :(

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Mark

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Mark met after you started working at Empire.

- Initially, he’d spotted you while you were in one of the music booths and immediately thought you were cute. Unbeknownst to him, you’d been filling out a resume while listening and would begin working alongside him in just a few days.

- You should have seen Marks face when you walked in and were introduced to everyone as a new employee. He was so excited. You caught him watching you a lot during the day, giving you a smile and that giggle of his anytime you caught him.

- If it we’re anyone else, you’d be freaked out, but even on your first day, you could tell that that was just how Mark was. He was dorky and you found that sort of cute.

- As you got to know everyone more and more, you found that you really started to like Mark, and while it was initially just platonically, your interest in him soon began to shift.

- So, upon realizing that you wanted to be more than friends with the boy, you started to try and test the waters. You started to flirt with him a little, subtly at first and then a little more obvious …and then what was probably blatantly obvious to everyone else in the store....

- Yeah ...Mark didn’t pick up on it. A part of you wondered if he just didn’t like you like that and if he was trying to let you down easy, but another part of you could see that he was just as interested as you were; he was just too nervous to ask you out and didn’t understand you were practically inviting him to do so in every conversation you had with him. 

- The conversation, the conversation between him and Lucas in the break room …god you should have heard it. Mark had mentioned to the boy how he was really into you and was asking if he thought you liked him too. Lucas stared at him for a moment in bewilderment before giving him a polite smile and saying “You know Mark, …something tells me she is”. 

“Really,” He asks excitedly before nodding and giggling “Aww great!”

- Later that day, he paced behind you for a while, stepping closer before retreating before repeating the cycle. Finally, he was right behind you and you just so happened to turn, nearly bumping into him as he stood there. 

- You laughed a bit awkwardly and greeted him, he giggled and greeted you back. You could tell that he wanted to say something so you hung around, watching as he fiddled with his hands and fidgeted in his place, fumbling over his words. 

“So I was uhhh-well like aha, I wanted to know if you maybe wanted to do something later. ..You know …like a, like a date! Heh heh!” 

- Feeling like a higher power had finally hard your prayers, you smiled and quickly agreed. He asked “really” and you’d assured him that yes, you really wanted to. 

- He giggled, said “cool” and said he’d see you later before going to tell the guys. 

- The two of you didn’t really go into your first date knowing what you wanted to do but neither of you really minded. You just started walking down the street together, asking the other person if they had something in mind before settling on walking until you found something.  

- You ended up only walking around town, him occasionally riding his skateboard slowly beside you before he asked if you wanted to give it a try. You spent a good hour holding his hand as he tried his best to teach you the basics. 

- The two of you share your first kiss during your first date. He’d had his hands on your waist while he was teaching you something, his eyes focusing on your face while you were distractedly listening. When you turned to look at him, you locked eyes for a quick moment before he’d quickly pecked your lips, giggled, and continued teaching you. 

-All and all, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

- Constant Pda. Mark is obsessed with touching you and getting loved on so it’s only natural.

- Mark loves attention and affection. He will never turn it down, no matter what kind of mood he’s in.

- Please kiss his forehead. Expect him to giggle happily and wiggle in place after you do

- Giggling into kisses.

- Long, drawn out kisses.

- Enjoyably sloppy makeout sessions.

- Mark has definitely licked the entire side of your face at least once; and for no reason at all!

- Hugs from behind.

- Handholding.

- Cuddlinggggg. Cuddlingggg! He loves it so much. He’ll always find a way to snuggle into you, usually by spooning you; he likes being the big spoon.

- The minute you approach him/get his attention it’s like he’s seeing the greatest thing in the world. You’ll seriously never feel more loved than when you’re around him.

- Occasionally, he’ll pretend like he’s in some kind of old Hollywood movie and act all dramatic towards you. He likes the way you look at him so fondly and laugh whenever he does.

- He likes to act like he’s a hairdresser and mess with your hair just to make you whine at him.

- Tickling and poking. He thinks it’s both funny and cute when you jolt in place and smack his arm.

- You’re sort of desensitized when it comes to weird/bewildering stuff. Mark is a ...strange boy, if anyone else were to kiss your foot or forget how to spell his own name, you’d think they were mental, but that’s ...just Mark.

- Exaggerated manners. He’ll open doors and pull out chairs for you with a flourish.

- Randomly being handed little flowers or cute things that he finds.

- Eyebrow raises, finger guns, kissy faces.

- Moshing together.

- Letting him teach you music video dances.

- Singing along to songs with each other. He’ll usually sing at you until you join in with him.

- Your name is babe now. Get used to it.

- Sweet compliments. You should see the way he reacts when you call him cute.

- He’ll let you rant/word vomit to him and nod along to what you’re saying but bless his little heart, he really doesn’t understand a single thing you’re talking about.

- He’s not much help when you’re not happy, he doesn’t understand subtleties nor does he know how to comfort you so just ask him for a hug and let his affection do the healing.

- Even though he doesn’t have any advice for you or a way to really comfort you, he tries his best to make you feel better and stays by your side when you’re really going through something.

- Letting him tell you about his dreams and ambitions. You support him, even if you don’t quite think he’ll actually make it, or is even being serious.

- Unexpected visits. If he has a really sudden idea, he will come over uninvited and excitedly/impatiently ask if you can talk.

- Helping him expand on what he’s trying to do. He’s always asking your opinion on things and looking for your approval.

- Debates and playful arguments about music.

- Getting high together; if you’re into that sort of thing.

- Convenience store runs.

- Sharing food.

- Pizza dates.

- Movie dates. You’ll usually rent a film and hang out at one of your houses.

- Spending your lunch breaks together. You’ll usually sit outside the shop on that little platform with him.

- As spaced out and sort of stupid as he can be, he’s actually pretty good at thinking on his feet and helping you out when you have a problem. He likes when you kiss his cheek in gratitude and call him a genius.

- Mark doesn’t always notice that people are flirting with or interested in you so he doesn’t get jealous very often. When he does, he’s sort of that insecure type of jealous where he’s not so subtly asking if you like them or asking what you’re going to be doing with them. You can usually reassure him and make him feel better pretty quickly.

- Mark is sort of a coward at times, he’s probably hidden behind you at some points so he’s not the best person to protect you. He also just trusts that you can take care of yourself but if it really came down to it, he’d run over and try his best to be tough for you.

- He’s better suited for putting on bandaids and giving boo boo kisses than anything else.

- The two of you rarely ever fight. You might bicker and he’ll walk away with a huff but thats about it.

- Things are resolved fairly quickly. You’ll usually just forget you were even arguing about something or just choose to forget and move on since it wasn’t about anything serious.

- Lots of I love yous. He likes saying and hearing it. He’s surprised you even want to be his girlfriend so he feels the need to let you know that he does whenever he can.

- Mark really loves you so he’s hoping that you’ll want to stick with him, even though you’re like totally out of his league. Either way, he’s going to enjoy the time he has with you.

[neonponders]

*sigh* catch me projecting on a Saturday.

I read this post ( @lazybakerart you wizard - ALSO IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹) and am now thinking about a sugardaddy!Billy with an ace!Steve. (*emphasis on grey ace*)

* Please nobody attack me for writing about leather fashion. I’m vegetarian and it’s fiction. Live a little. *

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve just kind of stared at the box on the restaurant table. It wasn’t a ring box, but it was velvet. Goodness knew how many of these he’d seen in his life.

Steve knew wealth. He knew money, and all of the material variations therein.

He’d gotten pedicures with his mother before his father declared such a thing unfit for a boy coming into puberty. If you look like a man, act like a man. As if men didn’t have feet, or something.

Then he went to the salon. That wasn’t so easy to take away. Ventures with her son seemed to be the only things keeping Mrs. Harrington from being connected to her husband’s hip, so Mr. Harrington let them both have this one. Steve, fresh out of graduation, being given a hairdresser’s chair to accomplish summer-fresh highlights.

Mrs. Harrington was also the type of woman to enjoy shoes. Everyone has a thing. For some, they had bags. Others, jewelry. Vintage furniture. Designer wallpaper. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed shoes. It was where Steve learned to carry a woman’s bags, but he didn’t stay outside of the store. He learned how to clean suede, the difference between a 130 So Kate and an ordinary heel. What fetish meant in terms of fashion. He can convert heels sizes in millimeters to inches faster than a cashier calculating change.

Tommy and Carol had joked about Steve’s father having a different kind of fetish. Nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with sex. Steve had foolishly let them into his mother’s bedroom and they were having a field day with a shoe closet that cost more than both of their houses combined. Still smelling of Nancy and pool chlorine, Steve as good as ended that friendship right there.

Because they didn’t get it.

Mr. Harrington certainly didn’t get it. Could never have such a sexual inclination because he didn’t understand pampering or indulgent interests.

He understood favors. Material apologies.

Mrs. Harrington had a collection of pearls and diamonds that she never wore.

Steve knew she liked opals and pink, pink rubies, because Steve liked opals too. Because he used his father’s money to buy ruby studs his mother actually wore. Because he gets her oldest, broken bracelet with green amber fixed, and she wears it until it breaks again. And then she presented Steve with a thin, gold chain to go around his ankle. With a gleaming, green amber stone flanked by two opals.

The green goes with our eyes, she said. Someone special will see the green in all that brown. It’s why we look good in reds.

Steve was still looking at the box on the table.

“It’s not going to catch fire, the longer you glare at it.”

His dark hazel, creek water eyes slanted up to the man sitting opposite him.

Billy Hargrove.

Stubborn to a fault. Gorgeous as Lucifer with wings freshly burnt off. And just as dangerous.

“I thought I said no more gifts.”

“And I ignored you. Open it.”

Steve went about it like ripping off a bandaid. He sighed at the window beside their booth, wrenching the thing open to see -

Diamonds.

He shut it with a loud clap and set it on Billy’s placemat. “No, thanks.”

The man’s features froze in tolerant stoicism, but he eased the box inside his suit jacket pocket. “You’re a hard one to shop for.”

Steve’s eyes widened dramatically over his wine glass of water. Not because he was sober - he’d willingly pay for an overpriced red, himself, if the handsome asshole weren’t trying to wave his wallet everywhere. “You can stop trying to buy your way into my pants any time you want.”

“If that’s all I wanted, I would’ve stopped three months ago.”

Three months ago,

When Billy breezed into Steve’s life as easily as he had senior year of high school. The two of them certainly deserved some kind of award for having a bizarre history.

Within a handful of months, Billy had arrived upon a turbulent time in Steve’s life, and then left nearly as quickly. Billy witnessed Steve and Nancy’s break-up, Steve’s fall from Hawkins High grace, and even beat his face a little bit. Because that’s what teenage men with bad emotional processing and even worse communication skills do.

Now, almost ten years later, Billy had some kind of empire behind him and Steve, well, didn’t. He had no idea what Billy’s job consisted of, but he got little hints. Mostly the negative space from Billy’s lack of discussing his job told Steve a whole lot.

Steve, who worked two jobs and occasional gigs wherever he was needed. During one such time, while Steve managed the cables and sound boards for Robin’s band, Billy Hargrove sauntered up to him with just as much charm mixed with hauteur as he’d ever displayed.

It wasn’t like meeting an old friend, because they had never been more than acquaintances, and roughly ten years was enough time for a personality to evolve ten different ways.

Steve couldn’t say how much he and Billy had evolved, really, but there was a point in there somewhere.

Maybe it lived in the, “I never expected to see you in a dyke club, pretty boy,” since it was all the coming out either of them needed.

Or the wanton kisses and fervent hands underneath the neon rainbow on the venue’s wall.

Maybe the point sat in the things Billy wanted, and what Steve was reticent to provide. Because Billy was a king who knew what he liked, and seemed particularly talented at walking into Steve’s personal crises like an anniversary.

Steve craved.

But he didn’t know what he craved. What he yearned for. He knew Billy’s kisses made his brain go molten and fuzzy. He knew Billy’s smell brought him just as much comfort, excitement, and anxiety. He knew finally being outside of sex-crazed high school had deflated something in him. The expectations to perform. He knew losing Robin’s stupid game of You Rule / You Suck gave him a secret gift of relief.

But he still craved. He wanted touch but he wanted to be alone. He wanted companionship but he didn’t want sex. But he did enjoy sex, except he didn’t want the expectation of it.

Well.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Billy Hargrove, who could have anyone he wanted plastered to his stupid, unbuttoned chest, had sought out Steve. Steve, king of mixed signals, Harrington. It was only a matter of time before he got his face beaten again. For wasting Billy’s time. For refusing Billy’s advances even though Steve clearly enjoyed Billy’s lips on his neck, and Billy’s hand on his inner thigh. For wanting Billy’s company and flirtation without the rules that finished in the bedroom.

So Steve refused the gifts. The material favors he could’ve sold for a better apartment. Fucked his way to owning a house that his mom would feel comfortable visiting. Be an unfeeling toy who could pay for his mother’s shoes and his own pedicures.

“Steve?”

He turned away from the window and the city’s electric constellations. “Hm?”

“Where’d you go?”

The back of Steve’s throat ached. He looked down at their appetizer plates and decided, “I think I’m going home.” After a second of them both hearing it out loud, Steve said with more conviction, “I need to be home right now. I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.”

He almost reached for his wallet to pay for his half of the artichoke dip, but reconsidered. He took his old prom tuxedo jacket off on the way to the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he pressed his face into the old fibers.

It would be easier if Steve didn’t know money. If wealth were a foreign pillow he had never slept on; could be spoiled into never giving it up again.

Like a true mother with a sixth sense, Steve withdrew a package from his mailbox when he returned to his apartment building. Mrs. Harrington’s versions of care packages were fashion magazines, a subscription to The New Yorker, polaroids of her latest closet pieces, and Steve’s favorite candy.

He loved it all. He didn’t need laminated recipes, bags of rice, or resupplied hair products. He went up to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, and fell into bed with the hefty parcel. Fruity hard candies fell out like confetti, and he stuck a green apple square inside his cheek while he looked through her baggie of polaroids.

Peach suede 130s. Steve felt a warm tickle in his belly at that. She only wore 130s if she was pissed at his father. A woman in 130s walked with the force of a storm, mostly because the damn things were nearly intolerable to wear without a platform.

Another pair of diamond earrings. One of these days, people were going to realize how boring clear rocks were.

Dark, amethyst Miu Mius with the heel and toe encrusted with pearls. Steve’s dad must’ve really pissed her off to warrant that apology.

The magazine subscription had piled up, so he had three New Yorkers to read, but he opened the tome of Vogue first. His mother dog-earred her favorite articles, scent samples, and spreads. She often favored the androgynous and male fragrances. Steve liked that a whole lot. He wasn’t sure if she did that for him because he liked them, or if he liked them because she did that.

He held the magazine to his face as he went to the kitchen, smelling the first fragrance sample while he reached for his cache of boxed cake mix. It was a funfetti kind of night. He rattled the package of sprinkles in his hand while reading about some summer collection where the runway happened in a Greek ampitheatre. Sounded fun. Sounded like a great vacation. Beach, wine, and then modern art fusing with ancient architecture.

Steve didn’t excel in chemistry, but he knew a different kind of magic.

Which didn’t actually include baking. The cake emerged a little dark, but he cut off the burnt top, iced it to glorious, sugar perfection, and took a slice to bed with him. He turned the parcel upside-down for the last of the candy to come out so he could throw the envelope away -

Two bottles of nail polish landed heavily on the bed. Steve lifted the darker bottle to see a purple so ebony he thought it was black until he opened it to see the paint up close.

Purple and peach. To match his mother’s shoes.

Not many people understood his parents’ methods of producing or avoiding affection. But Steve did. He shook up the poison violet and painted his toenails in between forkfuls of cake.

He didn’t hear from Billy the next day.

Or the next.

As bad as Steve felt, he couldn’t say he minded. Nor would he be surprised if Billy never called him again. The idea brought a lonely peace during the commute to work, reading his magazines on the train before keeping them safe in a folder that he stuffed inside his backpack. Even if Steve’s chest felt like a cold balloon, with its latex worn thin and tired, he had his little things to keep him warm.

Then a knock on his apartment door.

Steve answered it with a cheek full of cake, interrupted from making his grocery list of actual nutritional value - 

Billy had never visited before. Steve stared at him long enough for him to ask, “Are you going to let me in?”

Steve glanced at the box under his arm and turned into his apartment with a sigh. Billy closed the door behind him as he remarked, “You don’t know what’s in it yet.”

There wasn’t exactly anywhere for Steve to theatrically storm off to. His kitchen was also his living room, and a half-wall partitioned the bedroom off to the side. His apartment was one long rectangle, and Steve remained stuck in the middle of it.

“Billy, I don’t know what you want from me that you think you can get from expensive things.”

“I don’t recall asking for anything in return,” he drawled while removing his coat.

“Don’t take that off,” Steve retorted.

“I’m taking it off.”

“This isn’t going to be a long visit.”

“Would you at least open the damn thing first?” Billy presented the box on the flat of his hand like a waiter’s tray.

Steve knew a shoe box when he saw one. He swatted the lid off the box before he even meant to. He was so tired of this game. Of these rules. He doesn’t want to see some snotty designer sneaker that isn’t to his taste. Some item the rules would dictate he accept without complaint. Or some chunky, foamy plastic, glorified tennis shoe that is over hyped . . .

He sees the red first.

It’s not a sneaker.

Hot Chick heels. 100mm. Black suede on top, red bottom. The leather around the heel scallop-cut like minimalist flower petals.

Steve’s breath has stopped in his chest. The pad of his thumb moved across the soft, matte leather before he stops himself. He tries to look stern when he dares to peek up at Billy, but those water-turquoise eyes are steady on him, absorbing his every reaction.

“These don’t exist in suede.”

Because they didn’t. Hot Chicks came in patent leather only.

“They do now.”

“Louboutin sizes down.”

“Then we’ll have them stretched.”

Steve is losing. Billy knows he’s losing. Billy - he -

“How - ?” Steve begins but stops. He closed his eyes and swallowed, only to flinch a little when Billy grasped his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in to lick the corner of his mouth free of icing.

“Will you try them on for me?”

Steve feels a mixture of defeat mixed in with petulance and vulnerable glee as he warily takes the box to his humble couch. Billy looked at his bed, and then to the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. He strolled into it and lifted the knife for a slice.

Steve, meanwhile, took his time. He opened the paper from where it had floated back over the shoes. He lifted the box to inhale the leather. He took one shoe out just to...see it. Look at it. Read the number stamped on the red arch.

Steve had to remove his socks, revealing his lacquered toes as Billy sat next to him with a plate. He eased the coffee table out of the way, giving Steve room to wiggle his foot into the severe 100mm heel.

They were hardly glamorous under his old, cut-off sweats.

But.

He’d never actually seen his feet in heels before. Never bothered to try to find his size.

Billy handed him the other shoe, and stood up with a ready hand. Steve wiggled into it and accepted his hold as he stood up.

How do you walk in those? he’d once asked his mother.

Trust the heel, my love, she’d answered, strolling around her bedroom in her 130s. If you’ve paid enough for it, it better hold up your entire form, and your dating baggage.

Steve had laughed, but listened to her every word. Move like a wheel barrow. You pivot on your toes, like the wheel, and rest on the heels.

“I’ve got you,” Billy purred when Steve teetered. Just a little.

“Why did you get me these?” Steve had to ask while he began to ease his arm off of Billy’s shoulders.

“Might’ve had a look inside your mail,” he admitted shamelessly. “I thought you might’ve ordered something and I could finally see what you liked. Instead, it’s the one thing I’ve seen you accept.”

“You’re a creep,” Steve declared, but he couldn’t look away from his feet as he strolled around the coffee table.

Billy laughed and sat down to his cake. “This is good.”

“It’s from a box.”

“It’s still good.”

Things . . . changed, after that. Billy came over just to come over. And he pestered Steve with endless questions.

“Do you like these?” he asked with his nose against the magazine pages.

Steve towered over him in his heels, but he’d wash dishes in whatever he wanted, thanks very much. And leather needed to be worn, as his mother taught him. Plastic is trash. If it comes from a living creature, it lives on a creature.

Steve snorted beside him. “My mom crimps those pages.”

“But do you like them?”

“They’re fun in magazines, but perfumes were never really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Right now? You, elbows deep in here.”

Billy perked right out of the magazine only to lock onto the sink. “Because you’re having trouble reaching it now?”

Steve meant to have a witty come-back, but he got caught up in his own giggles. “Yeah.”

Then,

“Can I stay the night?”

Something must have flashed across his face, because Billy added, “Not for sex. I’ve taken the hint, all right?”

Steve slowly unfolded his socks where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Why do you want to?”

Billy wiped his hands on the dish towel and padded across the room to sit beside him. “Because I want to taste you before I sleep. And I wanna taste you when I wake up. I want your snark in my ears all the time - ”

“All the time?” Steve repeated, deadpan.

“Yeah, all the time. I can’t believe it either.”

Billy’s features were warm, unbelievably warm as he watched Steve laugh. “Of course I want to have sex with you. But I miss you when... I miss you all the time. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve rolled his eyes onto him, to which Billy defended, “I have things to do.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the big man in town,” Steve babied, pushing his chest so he toppled backward.

“I am, actually,” he crooned, his hands finding Steve’s legs easily when he straddled him. “I’d work better with you on my desk.”

“My hairy legs and scraped up heels?” Steve threatened breathily, holding Billy’s cheek and jaw in one hand while he leaned over him so all Billy could see was Steve.

“All of it,” he exhaled, and pulled Steve’s head the last inch for a kiss.

Billy’s next gift was a pair of slippers. Plush, soft, and perfect after an afternoon in 100s.

Then he gave Steve a massage. Steve could accept those with ease. The balls of his feet hurt and even blushed a faint indigo from being so unused to heels. The warm attention of Billy’s hands on the arches of his feet, heels, and ankles; as well as the cold tennis balls he stored in Steve’s freezer to roll along his feet.

By then, he’d seen Steve’s anklet. So the next shoe box Steve opened were dark green suede, as poisonously dark as his mother’s violet heels. The toe was bare, but the heel was encrusted with opals. The milky stones flashed green and orange as Steve walked in the 120mm heel.

“How do they feel?”

Steve, with far more mastery over heels now, pivoted on his toes and planted one on the couch in between Billy’s thighs. His warm hand cradled Steve’s ankle immediately.

“What if I shaved for these?”

“Then I’d never take my hands off you.”

“So nothing would change,” Steve giggled, teasing gone as he landed on Billy’s lap. The man underneath him hummed his mirth into Steve’s mouth, his other hand burying in Steve’s hair while he let Steve control the kiss, explore his mouth.

“I thought they’d go with your eyes,” he said when the kiss petered off and Steve kissed his nose. Billy touched the pad of his thumb high on Steve’s cheek. “There’s a little bit of green there.”

Steve let Billy fuck him in those shoes.

Because he finally craved all the way, beyond fear of rules. Beyond the existence of toys. He craved Billy deeper than skin, and Billy gave it to him.

And when Billy got him a pair of 130s . . . blood red and spiked with tiny, crimson points, he let Steve fuck him.

[crowtrinkets]

Wooden Brush

ty @alexaplaysgames for giving me this prompt idea 😏 Gender neutral MC, as always

Word Count: 1,824

MC goes to return a book to Felix but ends up doing more than just that.

---

I trudged the hallways of Fathom allowing a rather large yawn to catch me by surprise. I finally finished one book given to me by Felix. A history book nonetheless, it was interesting but about as dry as any Earth history book. The moon wasn’t too high in the sky so I figured Felix was awake and I could return his book. Oh, who am I kidding of course he's awake. I finally find the door to his office and softly knock.

“Felix? Can I come in?” No answer. I take that as a yes and gently push on the door, wincing when the hinges squeak. I look around the darkened study, barely illuminated by a few candles. No Felix. Not at his desk, not at the kitchenette. The only spot left is the couch. I approach the soundless mound on top and find it to be Felix, fast asleep, with Stella resting on his stomach. She must have hopped up after he fell asleep. I stand behind the couch leaning forward so I can pet behind Stella's ears, earning a trill from her.

“Stella, I don’t think Felix wants you sleeping on him,” I whisper. Felix stirs, moving to lay on his side causing Stella to jump off and find a better sleep spot. I round the couch placing the book on the desk and approach Felix. Crouching down so I'm at his eye level. I examine his face before waking him. His soft features are barely illuminated by candlelight, the warm yellow dancing on his face, contrasted by the cool moonlight poking through the window. His usually furrowed brows are still and relaxed, and his signature smug smile is nowhere to be seen. Replaced by a slightly opened mouth, drooling on his sleeve. Oh if I had a camera I would take so many pictures. But all I can do is stare and capture this moment to memory. I decide I’ve looked long enough. I place a hand on his shoulder and slightly shake him.

“Felix… Felix, wake up. Don’t you think you should be sleeping on in your bed?” He grunts a response and turns to face the other way, wrapping an arm around his face, attempting to continue his slumber. I huff in response and move to the other side of the couch. Leaning on the back so I can try to look Felix in the face.

“Felix! This cant be comfortable you may be short but this couch isn't that big,” He mumbles into his arm making it hard to understand what he's saying. “What?” This time he removes his arm, and looks up at me, eyes half-closed.

“I am perfectly comfortable where I lie, there is no need for insults,” he grimaces at me. I chuckle a little.

“You’re comfortable on the same couch as your skin book? Stella's favorite spot?” I question.

“Fair enough,” he remarks, sitting up. He attempts to run a hand through his hair but stops and winces. “Ah! My hair is a mess, Stella must have been trying to groom me again,” He looks around the room for her. I turn and spot her sitting in a loaf position on a chair. I give her a wink letting her know that I won't give away her position. I reach over and run a hand through his hair, but then my hand catches in a knot to which he winces.

“Sorry!”

“I have a comb somewhere around here, would you mind finding it for me? I’m afraid my eyes haven’t adjusted from being roused from my peaceful sleep,” Oh man he’s grumpy when he’s just woken up, I’ll humor him though I am the one that woke him. I scan the study, looking for anything that might resemble a comb or brush. I open various cabinets and draws. Only to find it being used as a bookmark in one of the many tomes piled in a stack. I turn the object in my hand, it’s wooden and has intricate carvings of flowers on the handle.

“Found it!” Felix is now standing, attempting to tidy his mess of books, but his idea of cleaning is just stacking them in a pile. I approach Felix and observe his absolutely destroyed hair. His hair is always a little messy. Maybe more like messy cute, but it’s especially bad at this moment.

“Can I brush your hair?” It comes out before I think about it. He whips around to gawk at me, cheeks flushed pink. "I-I'm sorry I didn't"

"Ok," Is all he manages to say.

"…Ok," is all I can manage to respond with. I walk over to the couch and sit, making space between my legs. "It would be easier if you sat on the floor," I say. All he can do is nod and move to place himself between my knees. My hands start to tremble. Is this actually happening? I take the comb and start at the bottom of Felix’s hair, untangling the knots as I go. The quiet sound of the wooden brush running through Felix’s soft hair acts as a metronome. Repetitive and almost hypnotic. I can feel his shoulders relax as either of my knees bump them while I work through his hair. I get caught on a knot which earns a pained groan from Felix.

“Sorry! You um, you have quite a lot of hair,” I attempt to make conversation.

“Well yes, I have not had the time to visit a hairdresser,” he deadpans.

“R-right,” I continue to brush through his hair, hands still shaking as my face warms with a blush. “Have you ever had your hair braided?” Felix cranes his neck to look up at me.

“You want to braid my hair?” He says, utter confusion twisting his features.

“Well, it might be fun,” I say. He gives me a nod and turns around.

“I don’t know if I would call it fun, but… it may be interesting,” I take that as a yes. I run the comb through his hair once again and set it aside. I run my fingers over his scalp from front to back, bringing his hair back so I can braid it. I can't tell if I imagined it but I think I can feel his body shiver as I do so. I run my index fingers from his temples and back, bringing his hair where I want it.

“You uh, don’t have as much hair as Sage so it might be a little tight,” I say leaning forward towards his right ear.

“N-no matter,” his voice hitches slightly. I can't tell who is more flustered at this point, but it is a bit of fun teasing him. I begin to section his hair accordingly, leaving his bangs out. I start to French braid his hair, being careful not to pull on it. His hair is soft in my fingers, almost too silky to keep a hold on, catching whiffs of morning dew and tea as I braid his locks together. I lean to the side slightly as I work, hoping to catch a glimpse of Felix’s face. I can see a tinge of pink in his ears that spread to his cheeks, his eyes closed, and brows relaxed. Is he enjoying this? I hope he is. He opens one eye to look at me, to which I sit up turning my attention back on his hair. Once I finish braiding down, I grab the trusty hair tie, that always sits on my wrist, and I tie off the end. Securing his braid. I clap my hands on his shoulders.

“All done!” Felix yelps slightly. He stands, stretching his legs after sitting on the floor. “Oh wait, actually sit here I need to fix your bangs,” I pat the spot of the couch next to me and Felix sits without protest or comment. I run my fingers through his bangs, adjusting them so they sit properly on his face. Framing it nicely. I find a stray strand and groan, I must have missed it. I take it and tuck it behind his ear with slow movements. I then spot Felix, staring at me intently. I keep my hand hovering by his ear, too scared to move. Up close I can see just how stormy his eyes are, they look like they carry the weight of a thousand burdens, his cheeks are flushed pink, and his mouth slightly agape. I then rest my hand on his cheek. His eyes flick down to my lips for a split second. I don’t even realize that I'm moving. Moving ever so closer to Felix’s perfectly, adorably flushed face. His half-lidded eyes drawing me in like some sort of spell.

“Felix,” I whisper, mere inches from his lips touching mine, and then-

*BOOM*

“Hey Felix have you seen-“ I jump away from Felix so fast, I'm surprised I didn’t open a wormhole that sent me back to Earth. Felix also lept back, but miscalculated and landed on the floor with an oof. I turn to see Sage, standing in the doorway. I try to cover my blush with my hand, hoping it’s too dark for Sage to see. Felix stands quickly, straightening his clothes, and clears his throat.

“Sage! Have you ever thought to knock for once in your life?” Felix’s voice waves slightly high as he scolds Sage. Avoiding eye contact with either of us.

“Oh my, was I interrupting something?” Sage leans on the doorway. Eyes shifting between us both, a shit-eating grin growing on his lips.

“I-I was returning Felix’s book,” I lean over and pick up a random book, lifting it in the air hoping a prop makes my story more convincing. I mean it was the truth. Was.

“U-Uhm, yes, MC came to return my book, yes, thank you, I will give you a new one tomorrow if you'd like,” Felix says to me, still avoiding my eyes. I nod in response. Standing from the couch handing his book back.

“Well, why is your hair braided? Trying to go for the sexy dangerous look I got going?” Sage says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Cause they don’t seem to be into it, trust me I tried,” Sage points to me as he speaks. I can feel the embarrassment bottle up inside me, threatening to explode.

“Goodnight!” I shout. I then stormed out of the room, trying to escape my embarrassment. Did that just happen?

The next morning Felix and I don’t bring up the, ahem, events from the previous night. However, he still wears the braid I did for him when I see him. He offers to return my hair tie but I tell him he can keep it, I have plenty. But really, I think the French braid is a good look for him, and I want him to keep it on longer. I should return his books late at night more often.

[yungidreamer]

Made Up

Summary: Our threesome is back again learning and growing. Yunho, Mingi, and their girl try their first day of being out and find the reactions of those around them to be difficult to anticipate.

Wordcount: 7.3k

Content warnings: Some cute moments and humor followed by some less happy moments. Angry sex that is a little rough, some coitus interruptus, and a little resolution.

They stepped through the doors to the third floor salon. It was the second place they had called yesterday, after deciding to move up their day of prissying themselves up, and had thankfully had space for both of the boys, and even her. It had been years since she had let anyone else do something to her hair. She took care of it, mostly kept it up and out of the way, so it was in decent condition. Still, she had some split ends and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a trim. In the end with all the changes the boys were thinking of making, maybe it was time for her to do a little something as well.

They checked in at the counter and waited for each of their names to be called. None of them had told the others what it was they had decided to get done, wanting it to be a surprise. Yunho was brought back first, then their girl, and finally Mingi.

“Mingi,” said the chipper lean man with well cared for skin and a stylish long undercut. Mingi nodded and stood up, following him back along the long but narrow area where the stylists worked. He could see their girl in the back at a sink getting her hair washed. Yunho was in his chair, chuckling and chatting with the woman foiling his hair to bleach it a little lighter, especially the roots. Yunho met his eyes as he passed, offering a little wave as he went by. They stopped a few seats down, and Mingi flopped himself in the chair, looking at the man behind him through the mirror.

“My name is Jonny,” the man greeted as he started to examine Mingi’s hair. “It’s lovely to meet you today Mingi. So tell me, what are we doing today?”

“I want to go lighter,” Mingi started, running his fingers through his hair noting the dark roots he had developed as it had grown out. “And want to clean up the undercut, but keep the top longer.”

“That is a great choice, hun,” Jonny complemented. “With your long face, it would look really good. Let’s start lightening the color and then we will work on the cut.”

“Okay,” Mingi nodded, letting him throw the apron around him and set the chair at the right height.

“So is this for an occasion or something special,” Jonny asked, not really looking at him as he started to get some things ready to get started on bleaching his hair.

“Yeah, kinda,” Mingi hedged for a moment, trying to decide how to answer. He doubted either Yunho or their girl were near enough to hear, but overcoming the fear of being judged wasn’t about them hearing it was it? “The three of us are having a late Christmas gift. Our girlfriend got us reservations at a nice restaurant in the city.”

“Our girlfriend?” Jonny asked, flashing a slightly confused look at him as he started mixing the toner.

“Ye-yeah,” Mingi cleared his throat and tried to put on the air of confidence he used to hide behind as a kid. “The pretty one over there,” he pointed at their girl who was currently having a section of hair on one side of her head bleached. “And the cute guy we walked by,” he pointed at Yunho a few seats away. “We’re all together. Almost two years now, actually.” The last sentence came almost as a realization to himself. Had they really been together that long? It didn’t seem like it, and yet, at the same time, it felt like they had already been together forever.

“All three of you?” Jonny asked, looking between all of them, a little surprise filling his eyes. “Pfft, so unfair. Even at your age all the cute ones are taken.” Relief flooded Mingi. He had been a little surprised but nothing more, and his comment that all the cute ones were taken, yeah, that felt good to hear. They continued their chitchat, talking about a lot of nothing, with lots of laughter, making the time pass like a flash. Honestly, he had been so caught up in chatting with Jonny, and watching him do his work, that he hadn’t even remembered to try and sneak a peek at either Yunho or their girl.

When he finally remembered to try, the hairdressers kept being in the way. He was impatient and curious, now that it had crossed his mind. Jonny laughed as he saw Mingi crane his neck as he turned to try and get a peek.

“Hun, we are almost done,” he gave a high nasally laugh. “Just don’t move while I have the clippers. We don’t want any accidents.”

“Sorry,” Mingi gave a chagrined smile and stayed looking in the direction the man guided his head. He dutifully sat as Jonny expertly buzzed around him, trimming and shaping the lower part of Mingi’s hair. He had really needed this cut. They had been so busy with school that both he and Yunho had let their hair just grow out over the last few months. He didn’t mind, but it had started to look more and more messy rather than, as he had told himself, carefree. But for the dinner, he wanted to look good, he wanted to look like someone they could be proud of.

Jonny turned him, giving him a few final checks to make sure that he had everything just right, before he brushed the last of the stray hairs off his neck and took off the apron. With a wink he told him, “Okay, hun, go see your loves.”

Mingi jumped off his seat and moved down the length of the room to see what everyone else looked like. He found their girl first getting some last instructions about how to keep the color in her hair and a few tips about keeping her hair up and healthy. Most of her hair didn’t look too different, pulled back in a braided bun at the back of her head with the silver comb. But a section on the right side of her forehead had been left down and was now a vibrant violet that flowed down one side of her face.

“Whaaa,” Mingi breathed, drawing up behind them. “You look so good, babe.”

“You like it?” She asked, smiling at him through the mirror. “It’s not too much?”

“It’s perfect,” Mingi grinned as he reached out to touch her shoulder. “You’re gorgeous with that color.”

“Thank you,” she held his hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You are looking pretty good yourself. I like the light color...actually...you look a little like a Viking. Hot.”

“Should I go and plunder something,” he straightened up and put on a tough face. “Bring you home some treasure from distant lands?” 

“Oh honey,” she giggled. “I’d love that, but you and boats are not always a great mix.”

“Hey now,” he protested, hands on hips. “I’ve only had a few chances with boats and like, at least 50% of them have not ended up with all of us in the water.”

“Let’s get that percentage up to like...90% before you take a boat off to war,” her voice quivered with a barely suppressed snicker.

“You gonna teach me?” Mingi pressed a kiss to her cheek, using his hand on her chest and neck to hold her there for it. Her eyes widened at the gesture but she recovered quickly, leaning into his soft lips.

“Anything you’d like, my love,” she agreed.

“What do we have here,” Yunho chuckled as he joined them, running his fingers through his shock of blue-green hair, somewhere between teal and turquoise. The color looked amazing on him, the cheery yet calm color matched his personality so well, it felt like he should have been born with it.

“Wow,” she breathed, starting to turn towards him as Mingi straightened up. “I love it.”

“You look… so good,” Mingi’s eyes went a little wide and he shook his head a little as if it would help clear the fuzz from his mind.

“You like it?” Yunho questioned, looking at both of them. Mingi nodded, his eyes falling to Yunho’s quirked, perfect Cupid’s bow lips. The other boy noticed, and butterflies burst to life in his chest in the second before Mingi leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Yunho froze, shock momentarily stopping his body from functioning. Mingi had made a move, reaching for Yunho while the eyes of strangers were on them. When the surprise had finished washing through him, Yunho happily leaned into the kiss, putting his hands on Mingi’s jean covered hips.

“Awww,” said the girl who had done their girls hair. “You two are super cute.”

“Aren’t they?” Their girl said, grinning up at them.

“They are all together,” Jonny said, coming up behind her to hang off the other stylists shoulder. “Isn’t it cute… and completely unfair. I can’t even find one person who will put up with me, and they all have two.”

“How do you… okay, I think I shouldn’t ask what almost came out of my mouth there,” the stylist said, her voice petering out as the sentence went on.

“I can’t promise we’ll answer but,” their girl shrugged as she stood up and joined her boys. “You can ask if you are curious.”

“Just… is it like everything all together?” She skirted, trying to be tactful as she asked.

“Pretty much,” their girl nodded. “It works out pretty well when you figure it out. And it really helps when it all sort of started that way. It’s always been the three of us with most everything.”

“And again, I weep,” Jonny said dramatically. “I can’t find that with even one person.”

“You will,” Mingi assured him. “You’re really nice and funny.” He smiled and gave him a reassuring thumbs up as he kept one arm around Yunho’s waist.

“You… are… so cute,” Jonny put a hand to his heart and giggled. “If you ever break up, come back and track me down. Not that I’m holding my breath, okay?”

“Mmm,” Yunho narrowed his eyes at Jonny mostly jokingly but somewhere behind his eyes was a little spark of he’s mine. “I definitely suggest not holding your breath on that.” Leaning in to kiss the side of Mingi’s neck, even as he kept his eyes on the other man. Mingi blushed and giggled, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t you ever, get jealous?” Her stylist asked, looking between her and the two boys. 

Their girl paused to think before answering. “No… well not really. I mean, sometimes I wonder if they really need me around, but I’m going to do better about saying something when I get those doubts.”

“She is the very best person,” Mingi said, going to her, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Our girl is the glue,” Yunho agreed, hugging the both of them with his long arms. “And the smartest.”

“Pfft,” she rolled her eyes. “Please. Liiiieeees!”

“No, it’s true,” Mingi nodded fervently. “You are so good to both of us. We probably don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” she assured him. “I’m lucky to have both of you.” 

“Come on loves,” Yunho said as he touched them both gently. “We have more to do today.” With a last few thanks, they headed to the front of the shop to pay and head off to their next stop. With their dinner upcoming Mingi wanted to get a new suit and she needed a dress. They’d had places in mind before coming, having found shops only a couple of blocks apart. She would slip into her shop to get a little something she could wear, keeping it a little surprise for the night of the reservation, while the boys went together to get a suit fitted for Mingi.

Yunho and Mingi dropped their girl off at her shop and made their way to the suit and tailoring shop Mingi had decided to get his suit at. When they stepped into the shop they were immediately greeted by a very well dressed man who came to ask, in a slightly obsequious voice, how he could help them today. Slightly startled, Mingi stepped a little closer to Yunho at the man’s sudden appearance.

“We need to get a suit for my friend here,” Yunho answered, putting a steadying hand on Mingi’s lower back. “We have a special event on Friday and we were hoping to get something that was at least fitted for him, if not made for him.”

“Oh wonderful,” he said with a nod. “We should be able to get something made for you in a couple of days if we get it off to the team soon. Let’s get started. Please follow me.”

Both the boys looked at each other, excited about getting something new and fancy for Mingi to wear for the dinner. They were led towards the back of the store where the man set Mingi on a round built in step in front of a set of mirrors. While Mingi took off his extra layers to let the man measure him, Yunho took a seat in a cushy leather armchair a little off to the side.

“What were you thinking of for looks?” The man asked as he expertly whipped his measuring tape around Mingi’s outstretched limbs.

“I don’t know,” Mingi admitted, watching the man through the mirror. “I think I want something in light grey since Yunho’s suit is light grey.”

“Yunho?” The man questioned, without looking up from his work.

“Me,” Yunho replied from his seat in the chair. The man only nodded, kneeling down to measure Mingi’s inseam.

“Alright,” he stood up and tucked his notebook into his pocket. “Let’s look at some fabric.” They wandered over to a wall of gray fabric all gathered together along one section of a wall. The number of options felt overwhelming. Yes, they were all grey, but there were so many different shades, patterns, and textures. He had never seen such a sea of gray.

“What looks good to you?” The man asked, clasping his hands in front of him with a smile.

“I think something simple,” Mingi began. “Ummm, maybe not a strong pattern at least.”

“Good, maybe something classic?” The man nodded,  touching the first knuckle of his finger to his chin before pulling a couple of choices off the shelf for a closer look. While the man and Mingi looked at a few more options in the light gray, some checked, some heathers, and a few that were almost solid, Yunho stepped over a few shelves, drawn to a charcoal gray fabric sitting among the darker colors. It was a sort of heather, almost solid, with a fine grain to the fabric which almost gave it a sheen when the light hit it.

“Hey Mingi,” Yunho called as he looked at it on the shelf. “What about this one, I really like it. I think the color would be really good on you.”

“You think so? More than the light gray like yours?” Mingi asked, coming up beside him. 

“I think this,” he tapped on the fabric as the man came near to see for himself. “Would be an amazing color on you.”

“You think it’s okay if we don’t, sort of match?” An insecurity tinged Mingi’s voice. He wanted to look like he was with both of them, he didn’t want to seem like he was standing apart anymore.

“I think this is the perfect color for you.” Yunho agreed. “Matching isn’t the only thing that will say you’re with us, you know.”

“I think this color would be great on you,” the man agreed as he pulled it off over the shelf. “It would be great on your skin. Maybe with something bold like red or dark blue?”

“Red,” Mingi said excitedly. “Like a dark red.”

“Come with me,” The man said with a satisfied grin. He led them to a part of the room with shelves and shelves of button down shirts. From one of the top shelves, he pulled down a shirt of deep red, somewhere near the shade of a garnet, deep and rich. “What do you think?”

“Yes, that, I want that.” Mingi nodded eagerly.

“Good, good,” the man nodded with a pleased face. “Now let’s build your suit.”

The three of them sat down and picked out all the customizable elements of Mingi’s suit. They chose notch lapels and minimal padding in his shoulders, given how broad and well shaped he was already. They kept the profile smooth, opting for a welted pocket at the chest and no flaps on his waist pockets. Mingi chose to have two vents on his back since it gave a little sleeker look for his shape. For his lining, he picked a red paisley that felt fun and classic, even if no one was going to see it. At the prompting of the man who had measured him, he chose to get a matching vest with tightly set buttons down the center and a slightly rounded neckline.

“You are going to look so good in this,” Yunho said eagerly as they finalized the details. “I’m even more excited for dinner now. You’re sure you can get this done in a few days?”

“Yes, absolutely, you can pick it up in the early afternoon Friday,” He nodded confidently. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Actually,” Yunho looked a little shy as he decided to bring it up. “Do you happen to have a tie and pocket square that is something close to my hair color?”

“Hmmm, let’s see what we have,” the man walked confidently to a back corner of the store where ties in more colors than either of the boys thought was possible. With a quick assessing glance at Yunho’s freshly colored head, he turned to the section filled with blues and greens and pulled out three or four in the turquoise to sea green section. Standing Yunho in front of a mirror, he draped them over his shoulders to let him see them on himself.

“Do you like this color?” He asked, holding up a tealish turquoise. 

Yunho nodded, then added, “Is there something like this but maybe not quite so bright?”

“How about this?” The man picked up one with a plaid pattern to it in shades of teal and very fine shots of black which accented the pattern. The mix of shades, leaning heavily towards teals and not overly saturated.

“Yes,” Yunho replied firmly. “I love this. It’s perfect. What about a pocket square?”

“I have just the thing to go with this,” the man grinned excitedly before leaning down to open one of the drawers below, pulling out a little box with a pleased flourish. He opened it revealing the same tie, a pocket square in the same pattern and a set of button cufflinks capped with the same material.

“Perfect,” Mingi grabbed his arm excitedly from beside him, giving him a quick kiss to his cheek and bouncing slightly. Yunho laughed and leaned his head towards the other boy. 

“What about for you, young man?” He directed the question to Mingi.

“Yes, maybe something that is the same color as the suit?” Mingi suggested, eyes scanning the wall. The man nodded and pulled out a few recommendations from the selection for them to look at. After a few tries, they settled on a dark grey tie with a barely there floral pattern woven into it, which was also a full set with a pocket square and cufflinks. The man cleared his throat and took the boxes with him to the register where Mingi’s shirt and suit order were waiting for them. He took a number for Mingi, to let him know when everything was done or to call if they had any issues, checked them out at the register and wished them a very good day before heading back to the employee only area behind a solid wooden door at the back of the shop.

Mingi and Yunho exited the shop and headed out on the street with their large paper bags hooked around their wrists. Just as Yunho was about to call their girl to check in on her, he noticed her relaxing against the brick wall of the building, entertaining herself by scrolling through her phone as she stood quietly, holding a bag of her own.

“Hey, love,” He greeted, coming close to her. “You should have said you were done, you could have joined us.”

“I know,” she smiled, tucking her phone into her bag. “I want Mingi’s look to be a surprise though.”

“Okay, as long as you know we would have been happy to have you,” Yunho told her, leaning in to kiss the top of her head before lifting her up into a big hug.

“What’s left?” Mingi asked, holding her and rocking slightly as her feet dangled off the ground.

“Makeup, sweetheart,” she replied, smiling into his shoulder.

“How are you doing that today?” Mingi asked, slightly confused.

“I have a look in mind and I need to buy some new makeup to do it with,” she explained. “Plus if we go to a proper counter, I can get some tips and see what the stuff looks like on me.”

“Can I get some too?” Mingi asked as the idea flitted through his mind that… he wanted to look pretty too.

“Do you want to?” She pulled back to look at him, a little surprise showing in the angle of her eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” Mingi suddenly felt a little self conscious. “Would it look bad on me?”

“No babe,” Yunho said, stepping in. “You’d look amazing. I think we should all get it done.”

“No that’s a good idea,” she agreed. “I haven’t done anything on someone else, but maybe I can watch when they do yours and help you with it on Friday.”

“Okay,” Mingi grinned. “Let’s go then.”

“Alright then, just a final touch,” the woman said as she leaned in to brush a last little bit of eye shadow on Mingi’s lid as their girl hovered nearby, taking mental notes. Yunho already had his look, a light natural one that really just made his eyes pop and with a light gloss that made his lips look just that shade more kissable.

When she pulled back, Mingi opened his eyes and gave a few blinks before turning to their girl for her approval. She gave him a smile and a big thumbs up as she looked at him and his finished look. Mingi felt relief even before he looked at himself in the mirror offered to him by the makeup artist. Looking at himself, he liked the way the eyeshadow accented his long smooth eyelids, making them feel a little deeper set. It wasn’t a lot but he felt like his eyes were a little brighter and a little prettier.

“Here are your things,” she passed him the shadow set and eyeliner pencil. “Em over there can help you get the brushes you need. You look so good. It’s so nice to see guys who are confident enough to try on some makeup.”

“My boys are really awesome,” she lifted her chin proudly as she looked at both of them.

“Aww, you’re a good friend,” the woman cooed, cleaning her brushes in the pause between them. Their girl didn’t really reply, just gave a smile as she took the seat, watching Mingi and Yunho get the last of the things they needed.

“Would you mind waiting to do my look until I can shoo them off?” She asked the makeup artist quietly.

“You don’t want them to see you?” She asked, giving her a slightly surprised flash as she looked up at her.

“I want to be able to surprise them for dinner on Friday,” their girl shrugged.

“Oh you’re all having a celebration dinner together?” The woman asked. “I somehow thought it was their anniversary or something.”

“Well, it sort of is,” their girl shrugged, giving Mingi a wave as he held up a bundle of brushes the other person was selling him. “But it’s all of ours.”

“Like…as friends?” She asked, looking between them.

“Like as lovers and friends and partners,” she filled in slowly. She could see a myriad of questions flicker behind her eyes.

“Hey, babe,” Mingi greeted, proudly holding his bag full of goodies along with his bag from the suit shop. “You haven’t started yet.”

“Nope, I want it to be a surprise still,” she gave him a chagrined smile. “Would you mind if I message you when I’m done?”

“Awww I want to see how you do it.” Mingi pinched his lips together and frowned. “Will you show me later at least?”

“Of course,” she rushed to promise him. “How about I promise to teach you how to put the look on me when we get home?”

“Really?” He was actually excited by the idea. “Okay, if you promise. I’ll take Yunho with me.”

“Thank you, my love,” she told him, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before practically skipping off to grab Yunho and take him to look around the store as they waited for her.

“Okay, let’s get started,” the woman said as she saw the two boys disappear around a corner. “First, tell me what you want, let’s get a good idea of what you are looking for.”

“I really want something sort of art deco.” Reaching for her shopping bag, she pulled out a little of her dress, revealing the color and texture of the fabric. “The cut is somewhere similar to something from the 1920s or 30s.”

“I think I have the perfect idea,” the woman nodded. “Something with gold accents and very 1920s and Gatsby-ish, without going in the vamp direction. Sound good?”

“That sounds like exactly what I want,” she replied eagerly.

“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of things?” The makeup artist asked, as she pulled a couple of things out of the drawer.

“Uh, why not… Meredith?” she said, reading the tag on the woman’s shirt.

“Call me Mer,” the woman laughed. “I’m going to start with some foundation, first.”

As Mer pulled out a couple of shades to test out the best one for her, the younger woman looked at her assessingly, wondering why it was she seemed so curious. She was pretty, maybe in her late 20s or her early 30s, with shoulder length blond hair, the top half of which was held back in a clip on the back of her head. Her eyes were a bright green leaning hazel and she had smattering of light freckles over her cheeks and nose that were barely visible under her expertly done makeup.

“Okay, chin up like this,” Mer said, lifting her chin with one finger to angle her face into the light.

“Right, yes,” she angled her face and closed her eyes with a sigh.

“So,” Mer said quietly as she began to use the sponge to put a layer of foundation on. “Two boyfriends, huh? How did that happen?”

“Uh, well we all met in high school,” she answered, purposely staying slightly vague. “We just sort of decided we all fit together and we’ve been together since then.”

“Really?” The older woman asked with interest. “So it wasn’t like two of you were dating and you just sort of integrated someone else?”

“No, it was always all of us together,” she shrugged. “Since the start.” They lapsed into silence minus Mer explaining what she was doing and making notes for her on the order and application of the makeup she was putting on her. The woman really was a good teacher, going through things in a very step by step way, including how things should feel when you are getting the placement correct.

Her lips were the very last thing they worked on, trying a couple of different colors before they settled on a deep bluish red that was just a shade more pigmented than her dress. Her eyes couldn’t help but watch the woman as she concentrated on lining her lips with the smooth pencil. Meredith bit her lip and her eyes flicked up to meet her eyes as she finished lining her lips. She would have sworn she saw a blush spread over the makeup artist's cheeks under the fine powder as she turned away to look for the lip brush she was going to use to apply the lovely new lipstick.

“Okay so when you do your lips,” Meredith explained as she brushed the first layer of color on. “Color your lips completely with a brush and then you want to blot with a tissue. After that, reapply and you can also put on a little powder over it if you really want it to stay. And here, let’s look at the final look.”

Turning the mirror toward her, Meredith let her look at herself. She felt beautiful and it was the perfect look for her dinner celebration with the boys. She turned and gave the woman who had done it a warm smile and caught that same faint pink on her cheeks as she smiled back. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she took a couple of pictures to help her remember and then send a message to the boys that she was done.

“I really hate to ruin your amazing work,” she gave the older woman an apologetic look. “But I still want this all to be a surprise for them.”

“Oh of course,” Meredith quickly nodded and reached for the makeup wipes she kept on the little counter. She packed up new versions of all the makeup she had used on the younger woman as she left her to clean off her face. Sealing them nicely in a bag, she gave her coworker the total so that she could ring the girl up as soon as she was done.

“These things really work well,” she commented when she noticed the makeup artist coming back towards her.

“I know, they are real lifesavers when you need them,” Meredith agreed with a smile as she looked at the other woman’s bare face. She really was just so pretty. “Hey, what if I just put the lipstick on? It is such a good color on you.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “I suppose that really isn’t a spoiler and the color makes me feel really cute.”

“You look beautiful in it,” Meredith admitted quietly as she pulled out the lip pencil again. She lined the lips and put on the first layer of lipstick before she had gathered up the courage to ask the question she had been wanting to ask for the past 45 minutes. “Umm, have you guys ever considered, you know… adding a fourth?”

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked up at the makeup artist who was very diligently swiping her lower lip with the brush. Now she was sure she had been seeing a blush just there under her makeup. Surprise flickered through her at the realization the older woman had a… crush, she couldn’t think of a better word for it, on her… on them. However, that surprise was nothing compared to the level of shock that spiked through her a moment later when, after a second’s hesitation, the woman cupped her cheeks and leaned in to press a very warm, close-mouthed kiss to the lips she had just finished coloring in for a second time.

For a brief moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, she froze. Even as the woman had asked if they had ever considered adding more people to their mix, she hadn’t thought she would be so forward. It could have been embarrassed curiosity, or that she had an interest in one of the boys. There were a million things that she might have guessed before she would have thought this would happen.

When she finally moved past the shock, she pushed the woman away with a gentle hand on her shoulder, still more surprised than angry. That, however, was not the case for Yunho who had rounded the corner of the area containing the shop just in time to see the woman lift their girls face into a kiss. Time froze and the din of people shopping and chatting was suddenly lost to a buzzing that filled his ears. That moment of their lips pressed together seemed to last forever until their girl finally, FINALLY, pushed her away, the dark lipstick now smudged on both their lips.

A hot anger prickled over his skin and he strode forward, grabbing their girl by the wrist and pulling her none too gently off the high chair she was perched on. He grabbed her shopping bag with his free hand and started to move out of the store.

“Mingi, pay for all her stuff and come outside,” he said to the other boy through gritted teeth. “I’m going to get a cab and then we are going back to the room.”

Mingi nodded, eyes slightly wide at the barely contained venom in Yunho’s voice, moving quickly to pay for the bag of things already waiting at the counter. He had noticed what was happening only after Yunho, when the boy suddenly stopped in his tracks, standing silent as his eyes burned. Mingi turned to look in the direction of whatever had caused Yunho to react like that, wanting to know what he saw. He caught only the last of the kiss, that last half second before she pushed the other woman away. The sight had caused a knot in his stomach and pain lanced through him. But maybe I deserve it, the thought briefly whispered through his head just before Yunho stepped forward and grabbed their girl.

He paid for the makeup, barely looking up at either of the people working there, before he jogged out of the store after the other two. The woman, the one who had done their makeup, tried to apologize or explain, but Mingi just shrugged her off, wanting to get out of there more than anything. He found Yunho on the curb, holding open the door of a cab that already had their girl waiting inside. He met Yunho’s eyes and jogged around the other side of the car to get in as Yunho ducked inside the door he was standing at.

Yunho gave the driver the address of their bed and breakfast then fell into a tense silence. His hand came to rest on her thigh as she sat quietly between them. He couldn’t look at her right now, but he needed to touch her. His grip slowly tightened to an almost bruising level just above her knee as he kept his eyes out the window on the city as they passed it all by.

On the other side, Mingi held her hand in both of his, nervously squeezing and petting her much smaller hand. He didn’t say anything, instead offered her sad half smiles when their eyes happened to meet. Unable to bring herself to say anything, she leaned her head into his upper arm, half apology, half hoping to find some sympathy there.

Pulling up outside where they were staying, Yunho pulled out a few bills, more than enough to pay for the ride and got out without waiting for change. Their girl slipped out quickly behind him, accepting as he grabbed her wrist and led her up to the room without a word.

As soon as they were inside Yunho slammed the door closed behind them, the sound filling the silence like a gunshot. Both Mingi and their girl stood frozen as Yunho leaned against the wall, his head leaning against his balled fists.

“Yunho, I’m sorry,” she tried to start, only to have his eyes turn on her with a dark flash, catching the words in her throat.

“Are we not enough?” Yunho choked out.

“What? No, I mean, yes! Yunho I didn’t—” she started only to have his lips crash into hers. His hands were yanking at her clothes to pull them off. Her shirt was pulled off over her head carelessly, pulling her hair and smearing her lipstick even more, then her jeans as he backed her closer to the bed. He turned her to face the bed, his fingers fumbling with the clasp of her bra.

“Do you want me,” he asked from behind her, his voice a hoarse growl.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, holding her bra against the front of her body.

“Lie down,” Yunho ordered harshly. She crawled onto the bed and started to turn over only to be stopped by a sharp, “No,” from Yunho who was still stripping behind her. It took her a second to figure out that he didn’t want her on her back. Laying down on her stomach, she turned her face to the side and waited.

“Yunho,” Mingi touched his arm gently. “Don’t do this because you’re mad.”

“She needs to be reminded that she’s ours,” Yunho replied, a chill to his voice.

“It’s okay Mingi,” she said quietly from the bed. “Yuyu wouldn’t… he just needs to let it out.” Mingi let it drop and sat down on the foot of the bed. Crawling up over her on the bed Yunho spread her thighs before reaching for the lube and covering himself. Angling himself to enter her, he took her wrists and pinned them next to her shoulders.

“You love me, you love us,” he said as he slid his head inside and leaned more of his weight onto his hands that held her.

“I love both my boys,” she nodded, feeling the heat of his skin pressing against her. “They are the only ones for me.”

“I don’t believe you,” Yunho growled, his voice quavering as he made the accusation. “Convince me.” With a jerk he thrust into her completely and she stiffened beneath him, but didn’t protest. He was being rough and she hadn’t been completely ready for it, her body protesting at the stretch. Despite his anger and his need to punish her for the pain she had caused him, he paused, gripping her wrists as he waited to feel her relax under him.

“I love you, Yuyu,” she said, forcing herself to relax and turning her face more into the pillows beneath it.

“I don’t--” Yunho exhaled and clenched his jaw. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe either of you.” He closed his eyes and started moving inside her. She didn’t reply but moved to give him a better angle inside her. Letting go, Yunho moved with all the frustration that had pent up in him over the past few days.

Mingi turned to look at them over his shoulder more than a little conflicted as he felt a pang of arousal at seeing their girl nearly hidden beneath Yunho as he moved roughly in her. Needing a little more space, he moved to sit in the arm chair in the corner of the room. He couldn’t watch, but he couldn’t really bring himself not to at the same time. The bed creaked under his movements and he could hear both of their breathing increase, neither of them speaking.

Yunho pressed his face into the pillows near her head as he moved, taking the comfort of her body. His heart hurt and there didn’t seem to be any words that could explain the tempest of emotions moving through him. The doubts that had come up over the last few days… he had never had them gnawing at the edge of his mind like they were now. He was angry that they were making him doubt things he had never doubted before.

“Yuyu,” she said softly. “I’m not gonna leave. I don’t want anyone else. You’re it. I’m not going to go. It doesn’t matter what anyone else does. It’s only you.”

Yunho squeezed his eyes shut as a prickle of tears filled them. He let go of her wrists and lifted himself up. She didn’t move even when his weight lifted off her, just waiting for whatever he wanted, what he needed. With a far more gentle touch, he coaxed her to turn over and a wave of guilt and hurt hit him in the chest. Her hair was a mess and the lipstick was smeared across her cheek and chin and on the pillow that had been under her face. Even so, she still reached for him, pulled him back to her, wanting to comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, moving back to her.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, cradling him with her hips and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

He curled around her, sliding himself back inside her as he kissed her temple. “I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

“I’m always here,” she promised, leaning her forehead into his shoulder. “I’ll never turn you away.”

“You should have,” he shook his head.

“You needed me,” she replied softly.

“I always need you,” he admitted. “I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore if I don’t have you two.”

“You’re Yunho,” Mingi said, sitting on the bed beside them. “Best boy, reliable rock, and one of the loves of my life.”

Yunho reached out, taking Mingi’s hand and kissing his knuckles. He entwined his fingers with Mingi’s as the other boy lay down beside them, still wearing his clothes. Reaching out with his other hand, he pressed his palm against Yunho’s broad back. Yunho leaned over and kissed Mingi’s cheek before he looked down at their girl again.

“I like the color of the lipstick,” Yunho observed with a self deprecating laugh. “I just wish it didn’t remind me of…”

“I know,” she agreed, stroking his cheek. “But we can build new memories with it. Someday you won’t even think of it. Or I can just go buy another color.”

“No, I… it’s really pretty on you,” he shrugged and smiled down at her. “Do you mind if we stop? It… I’m not really in the right mood.”

“No, it’s okay,” she easily agreed. “Do you maybe just want us to hold you for a little?”

“Please,” he nodded, his eyes watering. “I just… I just want to be close.” When he rolled off her, she turned on her side, and cuddled up against him, one leg thrown over his hips.

“We’ve really been a fucking mess this trip, haven’t we?” She asked, resting her head against his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his chest.

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed. “Can we promise to do something actually fun tomorrow? No tears, no running away, no strangers?”

“Yes please,” she said, feeling a couple of tears leak out of the corner of her eye and onto Yunho’s warm chest.

“Can I ask what happened?” Mingi asked, putting a hand over hers as he cuddled closer along the other side of Yunho.

“I’m not completely sure,” she shook her head. “She mostly seemed really curious and then she asked if we had ever considered adding a fourth just before she kissed me. I should have pushed her away faster but I just never expected her to do that.”

“I never thought that would be a possible downside to being out,” Yunho admitted, staring up at the ceiling.

“Me neither,” she agreed. “Promise we can do everything together tomorrow. I’m tired of accidentally ending up alone on this trip.”

“Everything,” Yunho promised.

“Maybe not going to the bathroom,” Mingi added after a second. “But everything else.”

“Fair, yes,” she laughed. “I can generally pee on my own. But if that changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” Yunho kissed the top of her head. “I’m getting hungry, but I want to lay here just a little longer.”

Masterlist

[mollymauk-teafleak]

“don’t do that. don’t shut me out.” + Jupeter

I wrote this for @spiky-lesbian because she’s had a rough week so here’s some angst babe, go figure 

----------

“I’m getting too old for this.”

Juno was pretty sure PIs were supposed to think that sort of thing when they were doing something cool and dangerous, like leaping the gap between the cars of a moving train or ducking behind crates at a harbour to avoid laser fire.

Rather than crawling on their stomachs to get their pet sewer rabbit’s favourite ball out from behind the sofa. But hey, it was his day off.

Then again, Small Fry did look delighted when he straightened back up with a loud groan and the cracking of some vertebrae, whiffling her nose and hopping excitedly, shaking the floorboards of their little apartment. Smiling fondly, Juno threw the ball off down the hallway so she could chase it, squeaking happily.

“Next time that happens I’m not getting it out for you! You can go make goo goo eyes at your daddy for a change,” he called after her, brushing dust from his curls and his shirt. But the smile didn’t fade from his face, even after she had rounded the corner to go and cause mischief somewhere else. Anyone who said keeping a massive sewer rabbit in a modest Hyperion apartment was a bad idea was just too afraid of cleaning up the occasional broken lamp or gnaw marks on the walls.

He was about to straighten back up and go back to the book he’d been reading, he got so little time to do things like that these days but his husband was still at work, the boys were asleep and Bianca was happily playing in her room, giving him a rare hour or two to himself that he didn’t want to waste. He was mildly tempted to crack the lock on the drawer where Nureyev stowed away any case files he brought home so he couldn’t continue working himself ragged outside of his own office but, contrary to the size of the lock and the dedication with which his husband hid the key, he really was getting better at giving himself time off.

After all, it had been a hell of a long time since work was the only thing he had to keep him going.

He was about to do that when something else behind the sofa caught his eye, something that wasn’t just a toy of Bee Bee’s that she’d forgotten or one of Small Fry’s hordes of left socks that she liked to build nests out of. He was about to sigh and mutter something about the wonders of having three kids being that you’d find trash in the weirdest places but something wary ran its way down his spine. Something that was maybe instinct, maybe his detective brain putting pieces together and proving yet again that the years spent theoretically on the other side of law and order hadn’t dampened his skills.

Whatever it was, it made him reach out, once again feeling the twinge in the base of his spine, using his hip to nudge the couch further out so he could snag it and bring it out.

It was a small bag, something designed to be inconspicuously held at the waist or over the shoulder, dark in colour so it wouldn’t catch the eye. Juno frowned, the wariness growing stronger as he sat on the couch and opened it up.

He recognised the precision and fastidiousness immediately, like it was rolling off it in waves like too much perfume. It was in the way everything was crammed in so tight there wasn’t a spare inch of space, everything chosen for its shape and size so it would go in seamlessly like a game of tetris. It was in the items themselves, every possible scenario accounted for; dried rations, iodine pills to purify water, vouchers for shuttle tickets that would take you anywhere in the galaxy, tightly rolled stacks of genuine honest to god Earth currency to take you even further than that, no questions asked, clothes folded so tightly they looked like napkins at first. And, in an even more closely concealed pocket on the inside seam, fake documents, fake IDs, fake cards loaded up with fake creds.

And a knife. If Juno had been entertaining any doubts, any lingering threads of uncertainty, then seeing his tired reflection in that razor edge snipped them neatly away.

He sighed, long and low, filing through the emotions rising in his chest, sending away any that he knew weren’t helpful or were just offshoots of his anxiety, counting backwards from ten like Buddy had shown him until all the messiness sorted itself out.

He didn’t pick his book back up. He watched the clock and waited for his husband to come home.

Nureyev really enjoyed working at the salon. He kept waiting, expecting to get bored or frustrated with it all, but it hadn’t happened yet. He just laughed at the conversations with his colleagues more and more, got more familiar with the smell of hairspray on his clothes and felt a small spark of pride at the ache in his ankles at the end of a long day.

It was enough to make him feel something approaching hope.

He slid off his shoes, not wanting to track any dust from outside into the apartment. Living on Mars had meant needing to get used to the fine red silt clinging to his soles every day and turning up in the most inconvenient places, no matter how careful he tried to be. Juno, the Aurinkos and Rita barely even seemed to notice it. Nureyev assumed that came from growing up with the stuff.

The apartment was surprisingly quiet, enough that he was already getting ideas before he walked into the living room and saw his wife sitting on the sofa.

“What exactly have you done with our children, my love?” he grinned, “Bought us some alone time?”

Juno started a little at his voice, even though he should have heard him come in, the door closing, his keys rattling into the bowl. And when his eye lifted and met Nureyev’s, it was immediately clear that his ideas had been far off the mark.

“Yeah, Rita has them,” Juno’s voice was even, not full of scowls and snarls as usual, not in any way a ‘we’re in serious trouble’ voice but Nureyev’s veins still flooded with adrenaline as he rooted to the spot, a discordant clashing in his ears, “I did want to have some time with just you and me.”

“And yet you’re still dressed?” Nureyev was a little impressed with himself, how his tone came out still perfectly light and joking, like he wasn’t completely gripped by panic and his brain wasn’t scribbling blue prints behind his eyes.

It would seem hairdressing hadn’t lost him all of his skills.

“Babe, listen,” Juno sat forward, eye gentle, “Just come and sit with me, okay? Nothing’s wrong, nothing bad has happened or anything like that. I just want to talk.”

Nureyev frowned. Maybe he had lost his skills a little. Or maybe they’d just never worked on Juno.

But he did sit, stiffly, still braced for something awful in spite of his wife’s reassurance. And when Juno wordlessly produced one of his getaway bags and set it on the coffee table between them, he was ready to run.

But Juno didn’t let the moment build, he didn’t keep him hanging. He simply sighed and reached across the gap between them to take his hand.

“Peter, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Nureyev looked up, certain he must have misheard.

But Juno’s expression was firmly set in penance, mouth turned down, brow fallen across his eye which was soft and sad, “I never once asked you if you were struggling to adjust to the way our lives are now. I never thought to check in with you. I let you down in that and I’m sorry.”

“I...what?” Nureyev was well aware he was falling short of his usual articulation but no more words were coming in to fill the blank gap in his mind, “You’re not...you’re not upset with me?”

Juno frowned a little, shaking his head, “No. No, why would I be?”

“Because…” Laughter, of all things, raw edged and disbelieving bubbled up in his chest, “Because the only thing to take from this is that I’m insane or I was going to leave you?”

“Are either of those things why you’ve got these bags?” Juno asked evenly.

Nureyev winced, “You found the others?”

“No but I know you enough to assume.”

Nureyev took a shaky breath, “I’m not leaving you. And...and I don’t know whether I’m insane or not, honestly.”

The sadness in Juno's eye deepened and he squeezed his husband’s hand, “I don’t think you are but we need to talk about this. What exactly were you trying to prepare for with these?”

“I...I don’t know…” Nureyev didn’t like this one bit, this reversal of their usual roles, Juno being so calm and collected and even while he sat here struggling to leash his emotions, “Nothing! I...I wasn’t…”

Juno exhaled, something cracking through his calm, “Don’t do that. Nureyev, please, don’t shut me out. That’s the one thing I need you not to do right now.”

Nureyev felt his throat close and he couldn’t have said anything if his life depended on it. He didn’t want to shut his wife out, he really didn’t, but it was so hard to unlearn something that had been your first line of defence since childhood.

But if there was anyone who understood that, it was Juno.

“Listen, Nureyev, there’s no answer you can give me that will make me angry with you or upset me. I just want you to feel safe here with me and with the kids and...finding this, it’s just made me worry that you don’t?”

Nureyev forced his lungs to pull in air and turn it into words, determined to not be the man who had shut Juno out for years, the man who had packed those bags.

“I do feel safe here, I am happy here,” he promised, feeling the truth of it and drawing strength from that, “It’s just been so long since I stayed in one place, since...since I could feel safe. And sometimes it feels like another cover I’m wearing for a little while, like something’s going to change and I’ll have to run again. And I guess I just wanted to prepare for that, even if it isn’t what I want. Even if I’m praying it never happens, I just can’t let myself be unprepared. It’s not how I was raised. And having those bags...I can breathe a little easier. I can settle into this more because even if the absolute worst thing happens, I’ll survive.”

Juno nodded slowly, eye never leaving his husband’s face, “Nureyev, we both knew this was going to be a change. And change is hard, even if it’s for the better. And if this helps you settle down, I’m fine with that.”

“But I’m not,” Nureyev croaked, wanting to wipe his eyes so the tears there didn’t fall but also not wanting to let go of Juno’s hand, “I don’t want to live my life like it’s not mine. This isn’t a cover, it’s my family and my home and I want to feel like that.”

Juno squeezed his fingers, “This is yours, Nureyev. I’m your wife and they’re our kids and this is our home. No one is taking any of this from us, I promise. And if you need me to remind you of that, I will, every single damn day for the rest of our lives if that's what you need. And it fucking sucks that everything you’ve lived up until now is telling you different.”

“Yeah,” Nureyev mumbled, the tears falling and dripping off his nose now but they hit Juno’s hands before his own and he didn’t flinch, “It does.”

“Come here…” Juno murmured, pulling him close, wrapping his arms around him as their bodies fit themselves together, “You can cry, it’s okay.”

Nureyev did. Because he believed Juno when he told him it was.

They spent the rest of their rare evening alone pulling out all of the getaway bags Nureyev had stowed over the first week of their retirement from the Carte Blanche, all of the stockpiles of food as well, everything he’d hidden underneath their new life with Mag’s voice and the voice of a hungry child guiding his hands. They didn’t get rid of it, he wasn’t ready for that yet, but it went into a box under their bed instead.

And Juno still told him he was proud of him.

Nureyev thought there was always going to be that part of him that had Mag’s rules in it’s mind and a constant hunger in its belly. All he could ever do was fold it up as small as he could make it and find space for it in the back of his brain.

But with Juno’s arm around him and red dust on the soles of his shoes, that felt easier than it ever had before.

[temilyrights]

mother in hell

Summary: Jack Sloane x Reader. Your Mother comes to visit NCIS. The fallout is simultaneously what you expected and also everything but.

A/N: I've been working on this on and off for about a month? The ending is a little rushed and definitely less than perfect, but It's been nearly a month since I updated and I really wanted to give you something as for the next couple of months I'm definitely not going to be as active. I didn’t do a final read-through of this so apologies in advance. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :) Enjoy!

TW: Asshole mother, mild homophobia if you squint, and anxiety.

Read on AO3

“So, what did you think?” You ask cautiously, feet shifting beneath you as you try to keep the hope simmering in your chest from taking over.

Today had gone a lot better than you expected. Your mother had been almost charming? kind? You weren’t really sure how to describe it, but it was a complete one-eighty to what you were used to. You’d already been prepared for the worst when she had stepped off the elevator and the first words that left her lips were “Orange walls...How very bold.” Her mouth curled in clear disgust. However, apart from a couple of jabs in your direction (‘Really Y/N, that’s what you wear to work? No wonder you’re still single.’) your mother had seemed absolutely smitten with the team. Gibbs and Tim especially (and god, you never wanted to see your mother flirting with Gibbs ever again).  

“Agent Gibbs is lovely of course, and that Agent McGee is very smart. Did he mention he was married? If so that’s such a shame because I really do think the two of you-”

“He’s married.” You squirm, barely stopping your shiver of disgust as your eyes dart around to make sure none of the passing agents were listening. The last thing you needed was a rumour that you had a thing for Tim. No one seems to be paying you two any attention, so you return your focus to your mother, grateful for the semi-privacy being underneath the stairs had provided you. “So, you finally approve? You’re okay with my job?” You ask, not being able to resist the hope any longer.

“Oh god no.” She laughs, and your heart drops. Your smile instantly gone, as disappointment aches strongly in your chest. You really should be used to this by now. “I seriously think it’s time you stop running around playing action hero and get a proper job-”

You sigh, “This is a proper job.”

Your mother continues talking like she hasn’t heard you; “-Arthur is still looking for someone to fill that management position. You’d be perfect and the hours would be much more reasonable. You’d finally have time to start dating again, eventually settle down and have a family. It’s time, don’t you think? You’re getting too old for this.”

“But I’m happy where I am. Arthur’s business is dull, and I’d hate every second of working there. I love what I do, and I love the people I work with too.”

“Yes, that was very clear.” Your mother sniffs with distaste, her reproachful look enough to make you tense.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I noticed the way you were looking at that other woman. It’s completely inappropriate really, she’s got to be at least fifteen years older than you.” Your mouth drops open, cheeks flaming red. You quickly scan the space around to make sure she was nowhere to be seen.  “And anyway, she’s much too pretty for you. Didn’t she say she was a psychologist? A much more suitable job. But, oh there’s absolutely no way the two of you could be anything. Her and Gibbs on the other hand, now that would be a beautiful couple.”

“Gibbs is like fifteen years older than Jack.” You mumble petulantly, cheeks burning bright with humiliation. You hadn’t expected your mother to pick up on your feelings for Jack, you’d been doing everything to ignore them yourself. Of course, she would though, and now she was going to find every insecurity you had and use it to prove exactly why you were so goddamn unlovable.

“Yes, but it’s a completely different situation really. This explains why you’ve been avoiding the dates I went through the hard work to set up for you. It’s awfully hard to sell your job to people Y/N, men don’t want a woman that isn’t interested in settling down. Anyway, this is the perfect time for you to start dating. Get you off the ridiculous notion of a relationship with that woman. Now, it might take some convincing, but Ben, you remember Ben, right? well, he’s newly single and I think the two of you could totally hit it off.”

“Mum, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m fine, I don’t-”

“Y/N, darling, you need to let that woman go. Don’t get offended, you are much too sensitive, and you know I only mean this in the best way possible, but this Jacqueline is really much too good for you. Now, maybe if you improve your wardrobe, and go to that hairdresser I’ve been recommending because honestly darling you’re looking a little drab.” Tears begin to ghost your eyes, but you make sure to hold them back as your mother stabs you with her words. “I always say the nurses must have swapped you at birth because there’s just no way any daughter of mine would leave the house looking like that. Your attempt at hiding those ugly dark circles under your eyes is dismal. Maybe if you just put more effort into your appearance then you’d stand a chance with Jacqueline, although then there’s the task of your personality because let us be honest, you are a little boring. You need to work on that, and then we could start on you being less guarded because how do you expect to find anyone if you don’t trust them. Honestly, Y/N, you are exhausting at times-”

“Hey! Don’t speak to her like that.” Your head snaps around to a very heated Jack who’s glaring daggers at your mother. Your cheeks burn even brighter with humiliation, and god, you’ve never wanted to disappear so much in your life.

“This is a private conversation, dear.” Your mother smiles, politeness not enough to hide her calculating gaze.

“That you’re having in a very public place. And for the record, I happen to think Y/N is pretty extraordinary.” Jack sends you a soft smile, and you know it’s meant to be comforting but it just makes everything so much worse because all you can think about is how your mother is going to make the next year of your life hell for this.

“Jack. It’s fine-”

“Y/N, shush,” your mother cuts you off, not even sparing you a glance as she glares at Jack. Your mouth clicks shut, and Jack sends you a look filled equally with concern and bewilderment which you have to quickly look away from. “Agent Sloane, was it?” She continues without waiting for a response. “You have somehow convinced my daughter that you care for her, adorable really, but I won’t have her gallivanting around after you. It’s fine time she settled down and started a family.”

Jack laughs. “Did we teleport back to the 1960s when I wasn’t looking? A woman can have goals other than getting married and having 2.5 children.”

“Spoken like a woman who’s spent her whole life alone. I’m assuming you’re not a mother?” Jack’s whole-body tenses. You still can’t look at her. Can’t stand to see her hurt, and no doubt a newfound hatred for you. You needed to get your mother as far away from Jack, and the Navy Yard, as quickly as possible.

“Mum. That’s enough.” Your voice is weaker than you’d like it to be, and your mother looks very unimpressed. “It’s time for you to go home.”

She laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Come on, we’ll finish this conversation later. I’ve got to get back to work anyway.”

“Fine.” She huffs, “but you are to meet Arthur for that interview.”

“Mum, I told you-”

“Y/N, this isn’t open for discussion.”

“Okay,” you sigh, head dropping with resignation “okay, fine.” From the corner of your eyes, you can see the incredulous look Jack is sending you, but you don’t dare turn your head. You wouldn’t take the job, there was no way, but you needed this all to be over. You needed to go home and pretend this day never happened.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Jack-” you sigh, but she just continues.

“No!” And now the passing agents were paying attention to your group. Your body shrinks in on itself, as your tears grow dangerously close to breaking free. Jack doesn’t notice, too consumed with her anger that’s completely directed at your mother. “You don’t get to tell her what to do. Y/N is a phenomenal agent. Her contribution to this team is crucial. She’s smart, compassionate, and beautiful. And, in spite of being brought up by you, is one of the kindest people I know. So, don’t you dare come in here and tell her she’s drab or boring or not good enough. You are a jealous, bitter old woman who brings your daughter down to make yourself feel better because you know you’ll never be as good as her.” Your mother's mouth drops open, cheeks flamed in humiliation. And if it weren’t for the fact your whole body was itching to run away, you’d have probably been captivated by the way Jack was defending you. “I suggest you leave, or I’ll have you dragged out by security.”

Your mother clicks her tongue, fingers tightening on her bag as she tries to keep herself composed. “Fine. Y/N, we will talk later.” And with one final reproachful look, she turns and walks away.

The other agents are all still watching you, faces contorted with either surprise or pity. Jack deflates, but you’re focused on Ellie, who’s standing just in your eye line, face full of sympathy, and the urge to throw up suddenly hits you.

“Hey,” Jack speaks softly, hand lighting brushing your forearm, and jolting you out of your eye contact with Ellie. Jack’s face is filled with concern, brows furrowed slightly in obvious confusion.

Swallowing roughly, you take a step away. “You shouldn’t have done that. I had it handled.” Your eyes flick back to the agents, most have now walked away but some were still looking with subtle interest. This was going to be the talk of the office for the next week. You needed to get the hell out of here.

The elevator dings, and you quickly jump into action, ducking your head to avoid watchful eyes as you briskly walk away.

“You had it handled?” Jack scoffs, falling in step beside you. You enter the elevator, and Jack follows, shooting a glare at the only other occupant in there who hastily exits. “She was berating you and you weren’t even trying to defend yourself!”

You sigh, hitting the button for Kasie’s lab, the best place to hide out for a while. “It was fine.” You lean against the wall of the elevator as it starts up and finally look back at Jack with a shrug. “It’s easier that way because now she’s going to mention this whole incident to everyone she knows, painting you as a villain, me as a coward, and her as the victim. I’m going to have to spend the next few months trying to do damage control.”

“I don’t care what she thinks or says about me,” Jack says, leaning over to flick the switch and bring the elevator to a standstill.

Sighing, you push yourself off the wall and make your way to the opposite side to put some space between the two of you, “Good for you, Jack, but I do.”

“Why? Because it’ll affect your new job opportunity?”

You roll your eyes. “Really? I’m not gonna take that stupid job. I meant what I said, I love it here.”

“Then why agree to an interview?”

“Because I needed her far away from you, and the Navy Yard and agreeing to the interview was the quickest way of making that happen.” You sigh, “Look, I appreciate what you were trying to do but I can fight my own battles and this one just wasn’t worth it.”

You catch Jack’s face contorting with pain before she can completely turn away. “Oh, okay. Good to know.” She flicks the switch, jolting the elevator back into action.

“Wait, Jack. I didn’t mean it like that.” You panic, quickly rushing to halt the elevator again. “I just meant,” you take a deep breath, blowing away your emotions before meeting Jack’s sad eyes. “What she said about me...it wasn’t completely off base. There was truth in it so there wasn’t any point in fighting her.”

Jack’s brows shoot up in disbelief, “Where was the truth? Because all I heard were cruel lies.”

“Jack,” You sigh, chuckling sadly as the tears you’d thought you’d warded off threaten to break free again. “Come on, She’s right. You’re too good for me. You’re this amazing, beautiful, talented woman and I’m just, well, me. And this isn’t some weird thing where I am looking for your pity or whatever. It’s fine, my mother was right-”

“Stop.”

“Jack, seriously, it’s fine-”

“No. Stop it.” Jack’s in front of you, invading your space in two steps.

“I-” You don’t get the chance to finish your sentence as Jack’s lips slam hard against yours. Your brain doesn’t fully comprehend what’s happening until she starts to pull away, the loss of her lips is what starts you back into action. You follow after them, capturing them with the same passion she had before she can form any words. Jack’s hand tightens in your hair as yours run down her arms before landing at her waist and pulling her closer into you.

“She was wrong,” Jack says between kisses “about everything.” You nod distractedly, your sole attention focused on her, on her mouth. You can’t quite believe this is happening.

You eventually separate, forehead’s rest against each other as your breath mixes together. Your thrashing heart begins to calm. Jack tucks a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, her fingers brushing your cheek before she steps back slightly. She speaks quietly, brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand why she’s still in your life. She makes you miserable.”

Shrugging, you sigh, not able to hold her eyes. “She’s my only family,” You don’t mention that the only reason that’s the case is that the rest of your family had cut your mother off years ago, and so, by extension you too. You swallow roughly, “And, I don’t want to be alone.”

Jack shakes her head, bringing a finger to your chin to guide you back to look at her, sadness shines bright in her eyes. “You aren’t alone. You have us, the team, we’re your family.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, it just is.” You sigh, stepping back from Jack’s grip. You miss the contact instantly. “My mother may be...difficult,”

“Y/N, your mother isn’t just difficult, she’s horrible. Cruel. She can’t say those things to you!”

“And I can’t just cut her off! I can take the things she says about me, really, I’m used to them.”

“That’s not normal. You know that’s not normal, right? The only time you really stood up out there was when she said those things to me-”

“I’m so sorry about that.” You hastily cut in, grabbing her hand, eyes pleading for her to believe you. “She had absolutely no right.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jack says softly, squeezing your hand back to ensure you it’s okay. “You deserve better than her. I’m not saying cut her off, I know that’s difficult, just think about setting some boundaries.” Jack definitely wants to tell you to cut her off, that if she had it her way the woman would never again come within ten feet of you. She couldn’t believe how quickly you drew in on yourself when your mother had started talking. If anyone else had tried that...well, you wouldn’t have even given them the opportunity to.

“I’ll think about it,” Jack looks at you like she doesn’t believe you. “I promise. I know things can’t stay the same.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” You nod, relief washing through you as you relax for the first time that day. Your eyes fall to your hand, still entangled with Jack’s and you can’t control the smile that tugs at your lips. “Guess my mother being here today did have one positive effect.”

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Guess so, although my plan to just ask you out for dinner would have been a lot less emotional.”

A grin takes over your face. “You were going to ask me out?”

“Actually, I still intend to. How about dinner, tonight?”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay then, it’s a date.” Jack leans in to press a kiss to your cheek but you turn your head at the last minute and capture her lips softly. Jack smiles but doesn’t pull away as her hand comes to stroke your cheek.

When you finally break apart, you’re a little breathless. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” She says, and you can only nod in agreement with a dorky smile. Jack looks at her watch, her own smile dropping slightly as she sighs. “We should probably get back to work.”

“Yeah…” You sigh, but you don’t make an attempt to move and neither does Jack. You don’t want this small moment of peace to end. The second you step out of the elevator there will be casework, and looks, and gossip.

“It’ll be okay. By tomorrow this will all be old news.” A smile tugs at your lips at her ability to always know where your mind has gone, and you nod.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do this.” Jack squeezes your hand one last time before dropping it and hitting the switch. You take a steadying breath as the elevator descends, focusing on the comfort of Jack standing next to you, and the excitement of the date tonight instead of the anxiety rushing through you.

“Relax.” Jack soothes, kissing your cheek. The elevator stops, doors opening, and she winks as she steps off. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“See you at seven.” You nod, watching her walk away. The second she leaves your eye line, you fall back into the elevator wall, no longer able to keep the wide smile from your face.

A date.

You were going on a date with Jacqueline Sloane.

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XVIII.

A/N: Harry meets Indie’s mum. Indie’s mum meets Harry. Indie is no longer Indie. 

INDIE’S POV

Harry and I lie on my bed as we both work on our laptops. He’s gathering some data from his patients’ record for some smart research of his and I’m trying to study Anaesthesiology. It’s very convenient to have him here really because he’s great at explaining and he kisses me after every explanation too.

I haven’t been keeping track of the time, so I didn’t know it was that late until my mum knocks on my door. I give Harry a terrified look but he just smiles and shrugs, letting me decide what to do with my Mum.

“¿Nena?” (Baby?)

“Sí.” (Yes.)

“¿Puedo pasar?” (Can I come in?)

“Eh… Sí, sí, pasa. Estoy con un amigo.” (Uh… Yes, yes, come on in. I’m with a guy friend.”

“Oh, is Jason with you?”

“No, no es Jason, mamá, pasa.” (No, it’s not Jason, mum, come on in.)

“Ah, ¿habla español?”

My mum finally opens the door and her dark eyes set on Harry and me on my bed. He’s sitting down with his back against my headboard and I’ve sat up next to him but there’s still lots of space between us. Nothings looks suspicious, especially for someone as innocent as my mum. She gives him a smile.

“No, no hablo español.” Harry says in a very awkward but very cute Spanish.

I give him an amused, surprised smile and he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, then.”

“No problem.” He smiles.

“I’m Alicia.”

My mum walks over to my bed and shakes Harry’s hand and I just stare at their interaction. This is so awkward. I’m going to kill her.

“I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” She smiles. “Are you staying over for dinner? I just came to ask you what you wanted for dinner and to say hi” she giggles “but I didn’t know you had visit, nena.”

Harry’s eyes set on me as if he was asking for permission. I don’t like that. I guess he’s just sending me an SOS because I don’t think he’s going to want to stay over and have dinner with the Fernandez girls but I like it when he’s his own person and takes his own decisions so I raise my eyebrows.

“Do you want to stay over for dinner?” I ask him.

“If you’re inviting me, then yes.”

“Of course she’s inviting you!” My mum horrifies.

She’s probably freaking out at how blunt I was to Harry. If she knew… Harry grins. There he is, he’s amused with this. He’s probably going to make fun of me for this dinner for ages.

“No se hable más. I’m cooking Spanish food” My mum giggles excitedly and I smile amused. “How do you feel about corvina con esparrágos trigeros?” She asks me for Harry doesn’t understand her.

I nod.

“Ask him.” My mum tells me. “I don’t remember how you say esparrágos trigeros… He pasado demasiado tiempo en España esta vez… Y dile que son españoles, ¿eh? Que son de tu abuelo.” She smiles.

“She asks if you feel like having Spanish wild asparagus.” I smile amused.

This is so Spanish and Harry is so British. I imagine him on my abuelos’ country house and can’t help but smile. They couldn’t talk to one another for my Abuelos don’t speak any English and he’d probably struggle to even introduce himself.

“They’re from my grandpa’s vegetable garden back in Spain.”

“I would love that. Grasias.” He adorably says.

My mum and I both giggle like smitten teenagers before she leaves and Harry gives her a charming smile. We keep silently working until about 45 minutes later, my Mum texts me that dinner is ready.

Harry smiles amused as we make our way downstairs.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you we’re just friends.”

He chuckles.

“Yes, friends who sleep with each other.”

“See? That’s the part my mum is not interested in.”

He smiles.

“Are you afraid I’m going to embarrass you?” He half jokes.

I think I am.

“No, I’m afraid my mum will.”

“I can’t wait for this to begin. Do you think she’ll show me your baby pictures?”

“Just friends.” I point a finger at him right before we make our presence known on the dining table.

Coco is setting empty wine glasses on the table. Oh, boy, she’s going all out. I really hope she at least hasn’t changed her clothes and appears with a red carpet dress and a hairdresser’s bun… She didn’t, thank God.

“Please, take a seat.” She tells us as she sets the corvina on the table.

It reminds me of the gilt-head bream I tried to cook for dinner the other night before Harry and I ended up having sex on my couch and my fish ended up burnt and the bits I could save part of Coco’s salad the next day. She didn’t mention how dry it was, but that was probably because of the amount of olive oil and vinegar I used to season it.

“This smells delicious.” Harry compliments my mum’s cooking playing Prince Charming and she smiles.

Good try, but my Mum already knows she’s a great cook. Still, it was polite.

“Hi, Coco. How are you?”

“Hi, Harry. I’m fine, and you?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

My mum sits down next to Coco leaving Harry a chair next to mine in front of them and tells us to help ourselves. I take Harry’s plate and serve him first under my mum’s attentive stare. This is probably surprising and amusing Harry. I bet he never imagined I would treat him like an actual guest but my family raised me to be a great host.

“Thank you, Blue.” He says.

A timid smirk takes over my lips that he can’t see and I shake my head before I grab my own plate and serve some fish and asparagus for myself.

“How did you call her?” My mum asks.

I tense up. I let him call me Blue because I know what it means to him. It’s that Elvis Presley’s song that he likes and I actually like it when he calls me that. I’d much rather have him calling me Blue than baby in front of my mother anyway. Harry stiffens on his chair though. I’ll let him be nervous for this one. That’s what happens when you overstep.

“Did you call her Blue?” My mum’s eyes widen.

“Isn’t that my name?” I smirk as I sit back down next to him.

“Yes, it is.” She smiles. “It’s just… You… People don’t usually call her that.”

Harry nods.

“I know. She doesn’t actually let me call her that but I knew she wouldn’t call me out in front of you.” He explains.

My mum laughs out loud before she also serves herself some dinner. I can’t believe he just said that. How can he be so shameless?

“Harry, why don’t you bless the table? You know, say thank you for this food.”

His green eyes widen as he stares at me. We’ve never done that in this house but I’ve had dinner with him times enough to know he doesn’t do that either. Coco giggles under her breath. My mum doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t know whether I asked him to do that because that’s something he normally does so I just wait for the fun to begin. He clears his throat.

“I… Uh, I’m sorry but I’ve never done that. I don’t want to like do something bad and be accidentally offensive but you can do it in Spanish if you want.”

“She’s just messing with you, Harry.” My mum swats my head and Coco laughs.

“¡Mamá!”

“De verdad, Blue, ¡qué vergüenza, por Dios! Compórtate.” (Seriously, Blue, that was embarrassing, for the love of God! Behave yourself.)

“Mamá, pero si a Harry le encantan las bromas. Isn’t that right, Harry? Don’t you love jokes?”

“I love a joke as much as the next guy.” He smiles.

“Oh, do you?” My mum smiles. “Then how would you like to hear a funny story about Blue?”

My eyes widen and my cheeks tinge red. Harry lowly chuckles next to me and Coco laughs and shakes her head.

“Eso te pasa por meterte con el invitado.” (That’s what you get for messing with Mum’s guest.)

“I remember this one time when Blue was over sixteen years old.”

“Mamá, no, no, la de la feria no.” (Mum, no, no, not the one on the fair.)

She nods and smiles mischievously.

“We were in Spain for the summer holidays and my family is from a small town in Spain and lots of small towns in Spain have these summer festivities where we have like a fair and free concerts and things like that so we were at the fair and there was this attraction that consisted on punching like a small punching bag that somehow quantifies the strength you have.”

I bring my hand to my face at the memory and Coco starts laughing.

“It was amazing.” She adds.

Harry glances at me with a teasing grin on his pretty face.

“So my son Rio challenged Blue and he hit it first. Blue’s very competitive so she got ready” my mum starts making gestures with her hands imitating me and I purse my lips trying not to smile “and she hit it so hard it effectively stick to the ceiling of the machine” my mum nods “for a few seconds and then when she was being all sassy to Rio because she had won, the punching bag came back and hit her on the back of her head.”

My sister holds her belly as she gives us a demonstration of her silent laughter and Harry laughs out loud too.

“That’s such a great story.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I nod.

“And this is delicious, Alizia. Did I pronounce it right?”

“More or less.” My mum giggles. “You can call me Allie, if that’s easier.”

Well, she really liked Harry. I understand, he’s being all charming and all smiles for my family. And he’s very handsome too. I’m both my mum and my sister are thinking that.

“So, Harry, do you study with Blue?”

His eyebrows raised on his forehead.

“Kind of.” He explains. “I’m a doctor but you know we study all our lives so yeah I study with her sometimes.” He smiles.

“Oh, you’re a doctor already?” My mum nods. “And do you also know Blue’s friends or just her?”

“No, I know them.”

My mum nods. I know that was her way of trying to find out how we met. I also know she probably doesn’t think we’re just friends anymore. I give her a smile and raise my eyebrows at her stare. Oh, no, she’s trying to figure it out.

“And where are you from? I hope you don’t mind me asking.” She smiles.

“I don’t. I’m from Bellamond.”

“Oh” Coco’s lips part as she looks at him as if he had just admit he was raised poor.

She’s so tactless I want to hit her on her head. I kick her under the table and she stiffens and frowns at me. I widen my eyes warningly at her and she just pouts and look away.

“That’s a very nice village.” My mum says. “You know I’ve painted quite a lot there. In that river that goes down the bridge to the train station.”

“Oh, yeah” Harry grins “My mum lives like seven minutes away from that bridge. I used to hang out on the river banks when I was growing up.”

“Oh, you did?” My mum smiles.

“Yes, I wish I could see one of your paintings. I bet they bring me nice memories.”

My mum loves that. He’s good.

“That’s what my paintings are all about.” She celebrates. “Maybe you could bring him to the next exhibit, nena.” She tells me.

“Sure.” I lie.

Of course not. I won’t just walk around with him on my mother’s gallery. That’s not what exclusive friends with benefits do.

“I would love that.” He explains. “Maybe it could be our next date.”

I choke on my corvina. My mum’s eyes widen and her lips part and Coco grins like she was in love. I’m going to press my hands down his throat and kill him.

“I’m kidding.” He explains. “I did say I like a joke.”

“I hate you.”

Coco laughs before she gets up from the table and starts picking it up.

“I’m going out.” She announces.

“With Chicco?”

Coco shakes her head. She waits until my mum is out of the room to tell us.

“Guido asked me out but don’t tell mum. You know how she gets.”

All excited and completely gone planning tacky weddings and doing ceramics. I chuckle.

“Don’t worry.”

“Guido Matteoti?” Harry asks her being the nosy soul he is.

She nods and Harry smiles.

“Well try not to break his heart, Coco.” He warns. “He’s one of the few decent ones of his kind.”

I chuckle while Coco takes both our empty plates and shakes her head.

“You guys are the perfect match.” She says.

I throw my head back and laugh while Harry just grins and raises his eyebrows.

“Too bad we’re just friends.” He shrugs.

This time it’s Coco who laughs before she walks away from the table. Harry slaps my thigh gently before moving his hand up and down grinning at me.

“I didn’t know you were so strong, baby.” He teases me.

I click my tongue and swat his arm.

“Stop it, you idiot.”

He chuckles and rests his left elbow on the table, tilting his body so he’s facing me and he raises his eyebrows as he wriggles his fingers.

“Come on. I’m a right-handed. I’m giving you a leg up.”

I roll my eyes and stare at his hand. He’s going to win. But I still please him and he grins when I hold his hand.

“Okay, ready, set, go.”

I push his hand as hard as I can but he’s not budging. At least he’s not pushing mine back either. I’m frowning and my entire face is wrinkled as I try to push his arm down but he just chuckles.

“Are you done?” He asks me.

I purse my lips and he chuckles.

“Careful, love” he pushes my arm back until it lays on the table easily “wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He chuckles.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Styles.”

“Styles?” He laughs. “You really are competitive, hey?”

“And you really are conceited.”

He chuckles. He’s about to say something when my mum walks towards the table with two bowls of natillas con galletas and she sets them in front of the two of us.

“I’m taking Coco to her date.” She tells us. “She thinks I don’t know but she’s wearing lip gloss. Una madre sabe esas cosas. Those are natillas, Harry. It’s Blue’s favourite dessert.”

“Gracias, mamá.”

“Grasias, Allie.”

My mum smiles.

“See you, guys. It was very nice meeting you and having you for dinner, Harry. You can come anytime you want.”

“Thank you for having me. Well, it was really delicious so I’d gladly accept any future invites.” He smiles at me.

I roll my eyes. I get a spoonful of natillas so I don’t have to say anything but he’s smiling even if he’s trying not to as he tries my mum’s natillas aka the best dessert in the world.

“Fuck” he frowns but I know that face, that’s his appreciation face.

“I know, it’s the best dessert in the world.”

“It’s delicious” he agrees “but it’s not the best dessert in the world.” He smirks mischievously.

“Pancakes are breakfast, not dessert.”

“Wasn’t talking about pancakes.” His green eyes set on mine.

When I understand he’s talking about me, my cheeks tinge pink and I look away. He’s so dirty.

“You know” I change the topic “I’m a little worried about Marie and your friend.”

“Adam?” He sounds surprised. “Don’t worry about him. He’s harmless. He’s probably not the kind of person you think he is.”

“Why do you say that? Who do you think I think he is?”

He widens his eyes and shakes his head as if he was lost with my question and I chuckle. He’s got the sense of humour of an elderly man.

“You probably think he’s a womanizer selfish prick.” He shrugs. “Just like you think of me.”

I frown. That’s not what I think of him. I mean, it’s not all I think of him. I also think he’s smart and caring and affectionate and lovely but I won’t sweet talk to him.

“He’s not like you think.”

“How is he then?”

Harry shrugs.

“He’s kind.”

“Then how come he doesn’t have a girlfriend? How old is he?”

“He’s twenty-six.” He smirks.

“Why are you smiling? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?”

“No.” He laughs. “It’s just funny how judgy you’re being.”

That offends me. I’m not being judgy, I’m just protecting my friend. Marie goes all out when she’s in love and she falls in love so easily and I do not want this guy to hurt her because she’s one of the best people I know.

“I’m just asking because I care about Marie.”

Harry nods.

“I know.”

“Is he like you?”

“Meaning?” His green eyes set on mine.

“Meaning, does he not do girlfriends either?”

Because that’s not the kind of guy who can be with Marie. His eyes seem to be tremendously amused with this.

“Not at all.” He chuckles. “He had a girlfriend for several years but they broke up after the accident.”

“What accident?”

His green eyes turn darker and he coughs.

“He was in the car with Gemma. I thought you knew.”

“How would I know if you didn’t tell me?”

He shrugs.

“I thought you had put two and two together.”

I shake my head. He gives me a sad smile.

“What I’m worried about” he adds “is your friend.”

“Marie?” I all but yell. “She’s lovely!”

“As lovely as you are? Because in that case we have a problem.”

I roll my eyes. He thinks he’s so funny.

“Real lovely” I defend my friend “she really is lovely. She’s nothing like me.”

It’s true. She isn’t. She’s sweet and caring and affectionate and lovely and lovable. His green eyes study me for the longest minute. I wish I could know what he’s thinking. I give him a questioning look and he sighs and pushes his empty bowl of natillas away from him.

“He’s got erectile dysfunction.” He tells me.

My eyes widen. But he’s twenty-six years old! My lips part. Oh, oh.

“After the accident, he had a lot of internal bleeding and he had a surgery. Well, actually, a few. He’s actually lucky all he got as a repercussion from the accident was that.” Harry explains. “But it’s really hard for him to even open up about it and it’s also hard to find someone who doesn’t care about that.”

“But… Can he not have sex at all?”

Harry sighs.

“Well the penetration is just part of sex and it’s not even mandatory. I mean if anything, the one who has trouble having an orgasm is him but, yes, he can have sex. He just has a prosthesis.”

I nod. I’ll google that afterwards because I have no idea how that works and I’m not about to ask him and make the whole thing even more awkward.

“But it’s still complicated. He’s gone through hell, Blue and I wouldn’t like someone else hurting him.”

The way he worries about him makes my heart swells for him. Granted, nobody wants their friends to suffer but I’ve never heard Harry talk that way about anyone. He really cares about his friend and that’s fucking hot to me. Everything he does is hot to me. Except when he acts like a vain jackass.

“If Marie hurts her, I don’t give a fuck she’s your friend. I want you to know that.”

Is he threatening us?

“Well, the same holds true for you. Marie is not as superficial as you think us posh girls are and even then, Marie is a lot better than me. She’s a lot better than everyone. She would never put someone down because of something like that. And if Adam hurts her, I don’t give a fuck he’s your friend.”

Harry smiles and nods before he leans in and brings his mouth close to mine.

“Give me a kiss.” He demands.

I smile before I do as I’m told and feel him smile against my lips before I lick his and deepen our kiss. He hums on my mouth and his fingers find my ponytail and take it off.

“I love your hair down.” He whispers.

“I’ve noticed.” I giggle.

“You look like an angel.”

He presses his lips against mine again. His hands move down to my ass and he pulls me to him so I stand up and straddle him and he smiles.

“You have nothing on the oven, right?” He jokes.

I laugh but keep kissing him so our teeth collide more than once. He runs his hands down my hair and cups my cheeks as he deepens the kiss. He hums.

“I want you, Blue.”

“Have me then.”

My voice sounds almost adolescent but my pulse sped up and my lungs flap humidly. It’s that easy for him. He just has to say that. He smiles against my lips but his tongue licks mine and his hands caress my back.

“What do you want to do, baby? Or better, what do you want me to do to you?”

I’m already wet. He’s going to dry me like a grape under the sun.

“Don’t be shy, love. Not with me.” He licks my lips. “You asked me to take you bare and to go harder the other night. Are you going to get shy now?”

“That was the heat of the moment.” I joke.

He stiffens under my touch and I know he’s panicking a little but I let him feel my smile against his lips so he knows I’m joking. He squeezes my hips tight as a sweet form of punishment.

“You scared me.” He whimpers like a boy. “You don’t regret it, do you?”

I cup his cheeks with both hands and force him to look at me. I can’t believe he’s second-guessing what happened the other night.

“It was the best sex I’ve ever had.” I confess and he grins.

It was also the first time I had someone bare but I’m not going to tell him that. This is enough confidence boost for today. When I set his face free, he presses a kiss on my cheek.

“Tell me what you want.”

I don’t know why I’m being shy. He has never made me feel anything other than wanted and desired during sex but I have to look away from the intensity of his stare.

“How can you be so shy now if you were yelling for me to go faster just three nights ago?”

“I was very turned on then…”

“And you’re not turned on now?”

Of course I am. My sex is swollen and dripping under my underwear. He would giggle if he touched me now. He grips my hips and lifts me from his lap, sitting me down on the table before he stands between my legs. Pressing one hand on my low back, he pulls me close to him until there’s no air between our bodies.

“I know you are.” He cups my sex through my tights and presses a kiss on my jawline. “Being close to me turns you on. I know it does.”

I clench my teeth but my lustful eyes probably give me away. I hate that he’s so confident about his effect on me. It makes me feel weak that he’s so sure of the power he has over me.

“I know because it’s the same for me.”

His confession parts my lips and I stare at him as if he had just given me the solution to every problem in the world.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He whispers on my ear. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m already only yours, you know that.”

His words charm me and with all the confidence I was lacking minutes ago, I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer pressing my knuckles on the back of his thighs. I devour his mouth and he groans but pulls away.

“Talk to me.”

“I… I want you to… Fuck me on this table.”

His pink lips part and his pupils dilate. I don’t know if that was enough. Now that he agreed to have sex only with me, I’m afraid I won’t be enough. After all, I’m not very experienced and I’m afraid he’s afraid to hurt me, what with how careful he’s been with me and all that.

“Baby…” I croon.

His eyes grow darker as I use the pet name he uses with me all the time. I try to go about this in the sexiest way possible. As if I was the one with the situation under control. I press both hands on his chest and licks my lips staring deeply into his eyes.

“I want you to do to me whatever it is you want.” I whisper before I press a kiss on the corner of his mouth and then his cheek and his earlobe. “Whatever turns you on, love” I lick his earlobe “Make me yours…”

“Jesus Christ, Blue.” He gasps.

It’s working? I think it is.

“It’s you.” He says out of breath. “You turn me on all the fucking time, love. With these thighs” he squeezes them against his hips “and this body, love, and the sounds you make… You drive me crazy.”

His fingers caress the skin on the side of my exposed neck as his green eyes study mine.

“Take this off.” He whispers, pulling at my sweater.

“No.”

He panics but I smirk devilishly.

“You do it.”

“Fuck” he giggles “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

He takes my sweater off and doesn’t waste another second to cup my breasts and squeeze them on his hands. His mouth attacks my neck and I throw my head back and puff air out as he kisses my skin. His hands feel amazing on my breasts. I never thought having my breasts touched could feel this good but every where he places his hands seem to set on fire.

He pulls my skirt up my hips and holds it on my waist and grabs the hem of my tights pulling them harshly down my legs. When I kick them off me, his fingertips find my lace underwear and I hear his breath hitching on his throat. He looks down between my legs so as to see my underwear.

“This is fucking sexy.” He whispers, caressing my underwear with his fingertip.

I cup his cheeks and bring his face closer as my mouth attacks his neck. I kiss, suck and nibble his skin as my hands work on the button and the zipper of his jeans and he growls and squeezes my ass cheeks on his hands.

“You’re killing me, baby.” He groans.

He lets me kiss his neck as I please but when my hand finds his arousal, he growls and turns me around so my belly is against the table.

“I want to fuck you like this.” He whispers on my ear. “Take you from behind and ruin you.”

I moan as he squeezes my breast on his hand.

“So fucking pretty.”

His hand pulls down my undies harshly and he caresses my ass before he slaps me. I gasp and moan at the sudden contact.  

“I love your ass.” He squeezes the flushed skin on his hand. “It’s so perfect.”

“Harry, please, fuck me. I can’t take it anymore.”

I feel his chest rumbling as he laughs behind me.

“Glad to see you’re not shy anymore… Just minutes ago you couldn’t tell me what you wanted and now look at you, begging me to fuck you on your mum’s dining table. Such a dirty girl, Blue… My dirty girl.” With that he thrusts inside, all the way, and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

The feeling is exquisite. Having him inside me, warm and hard, as he holds my hips and move my body up and down against the wooden table. I wish we could stay forever like this, where there’s nothing but him and I’m nothing but the part of me he’s touching.

“Harder, love” I whisper “Fuck me as hard as you can. Ruin me.”

“Fuck, baby.”

He thrusts hard and fast in and out of me and I don’t even know how he can be so good at this. It’s ridiculous. He tangles his fingers on my hair and pull me up the table until my bare back hits his chest and his other hand finds my clit. He presses frenetic circles on my soaked bud of nerves.

“You like it like this?” He groans as he pushes inside me. “You like it when I fuck you hard and fast, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes…” I gasp “God, Harry…”

“I’m not gonna last long, baby. You drove me crazy.” He whimpers. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes.” I gasp. “Just keep… I’m so close… Fuck, love, you’re amazing.”

“So are you, my love.” He presses a kiss on my shoulder. “Baby, I can’t… Take it. Oh, fuck!”

He all but screams behind me as I come undone. My whole body shakes and my legs fail me so the hand that was on my hair wraps around my waist and keeps me in place. His thrusts become sloppier, slower and deeper as he unloads inside me.

If this isn’t what heaven feels like, I don’t know why the call it paradise.

[coconutheadfriend]

Fall of the sky

Todoroki Shoto x Reader

Genre: Romance I guess?

Warnings: Angst, Implied smut, fluff? (There will be smut eventually) 

Word count: 2500+

Summary:

Ah Arkridge city of laughter and full of rich, cocky assholes. Oh, and me, my name is (Y/N) and this is my story about the fall of the sky. It’s 2034 and the government declares the ground below us is inhabitable, broken, and destroyed. So people build a city, a sanctuary for the human race to keep on living. Although the one thing they chose to do wasn’t to send us to space no, it was to build a city. No normal city though, it flew. Like a plane, but looked way more magical than the human mind could ever imagine. Towering buildings and cute little homes waiting to be inhabited. Although there was a dark side to this solution, poor people were rarely seen on this island, but why may you ask? That will play a big part in my story and how I made the sky fall. I am (y/n) (l/n) and this is my story on how I made the sky fall.

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

I wake up to the sound of my alarm going off. I hit it so it turns off, the robotic voice speaks through the speaking. “Miss (y/n), it's time to get up and ready for the ball” you shot your head up and your hair goes all over your face. You huff pushing it out of your face. “Wait, that's today?” you question cocking your head to the side. “August 29th 3093” You smile“You have an appointment with the hairdressers and makeup artist today. Should I message them and say you're still coming?” the robotic voice questions. You shove the blankets off you and get up to start dancing and jumping around. “Uhm miss your heart rate has gone up substantially in the past few seconds is their reason to call an ambulance?” she asks and you stop your movements and laugh. “Oh sorry Nebula, I'm fine and yes I will still be at both of those appointments.” You straighten yourself out, you still have a stupid smile on your face but who can blame you? You were going to see Bakugou today at the ball. The love of your life was going to be there and you couldn't be anymore happier.

You walk into your bathroom and see how messed up your hair is spread out all over the place. Your eyes widen and you grab your brush quickly taking the knots out of your hair and brushing it down. You walk out of the bathroom and quickly get dressed into a tank top and some sweats. You hear the door downstairs open and close. You walk out of the room to see who has just come in. Looking over the railing to see Bakugou. “Babe!” You shout and run down the stairs almost falling as you do so. You wrap your arms around him pulling away only to kiss him. “Morning babe,” He says in his gruff voice. “You're coming tonight right?” you ask pulling away as you do so. “Wouldn't miss it for the world Babe” You untangle from him and make your way to the kitchen. “Did you eat before you came here, Suki?” You say to him. “Yeah I did but I want something else to eat” He smirks and traps you between the counters. He kisses you harshly and you pull away. “Babe, I already told you it's too early for us to be doing that stuff” You shrug and try to weave between his arms. “But baby~ We’ve been dating for so long, three months I think?” He thinks about it.

You steal a surprise kiss from him. “Yeah, I guess we've been dating for a while but I just want to make sure I lose it too,” You say turning around and opening your fridge grabbing some milk. He sighs “If I wasn’t the one I would’ve left long ago” He grumbles while you fetch some cereal pouring it in the bowl. You grab the milk and sit down eating your cereal. “Look, I know you're not happy about this situation, but I'm not ready and you said you’d respect that,” you say mouth half full of cereal. He makes his way towards you and takes a seat next to you. “Plus I already offered to please you but you weren’t interested so I don’t know what you want.” You shrug and eat more cereal. He comes close to your ear and whispers, “I want you bent overlooking all prett-” You start laughing “Me, bent over, for you?” You point your spoon at yourself. “God Bakugou, you are one horny bastard.” You finish your cereal and drink the milk. You put the bowl back down. Milk dripping from your mouth, he brings up his thumb to your mouth wiping it. You stare at him with wide eyes and feel your face get hot. Blush attacking your face and you get up rushing over to the sink turning the water on rinsing the bowl out. “Bakugou when I can trust you fully and know you want to be with me for real and not just because of my body, then we can do whatever you want. But I’m just not ready.” You sigh “So I have an appointment in about an hour so if you're still here while I’m at my appointment. Could you lock the door before you leave thanks, babe.” You say as you rush out of the house and into your car. You start it and back out of the driveway. Making your way to the hairdressers.

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

You arrive at the hairdressers and get out of your car. Grabbing your keys from your pocket you lock the doors. You walk up to the familiar doors of the hair business. You open the doors and walk up to the receptionist's desk and your hairdresser comes up. “Oh hey (y/n) just take a seat over there and I'll be with you in a second.” She smiles softly and you smile back. Walking over to the seat she pointed to. You saw her disappear into the back but to return with some new shampoo and towels. She walks over to your seat and props the items she was holding up on a shelf and grabs a cover to put around you. “So are you excited for the ball tonight? I heard it's the biggest one the city has thrown.” She smiles brightly “Of course! When have you ever seen me not at a ball” You smile back and she begins to do your hair giving it a trim before asking what you want to be done. “I was kind of thinking like a bun and then some braids around it? Will I have enough hair” You laugh and she nods fiddling with your hair. “Girl, you have hair for days I don't know what you mean” She giggles softly at your comment. She starts doing your hair wetting it slightly. “So I heard that some prince is going to be there. He's supposedly looking for a wife” You frown at the comment. “Yeah I heard about that, but you know already I have Bakugou. Plus it's not like I could catch a prince's attention” You sigh realizing Bakugou isn’t gonna let you around any other man this evening. “Yeah I know but you're so beautiful if anybody could do it, it would be you (y/n).” You laugh at her comment and shake your head slightly. “Me, no, how about you? You’re so pretty any guy would be lucky to have you.” You smile at her.

“Ok! How does that look?” She asked as she finished my hair. “Great! Also, could you maybe do my makeup here I don’t want to drive across town” You pout and bring out your phone canceling the appointment? “Yeah, sure what kind of look are you going for?” You think back to your dress and it's a deep blue with white stars all along with it. “Hm, so it should match my dress so how about a navy blue look with little specks of white glitter” You suggest and she nods going into the back room. She comes back with some makeup and brushes. She starts doing your makeup and before long it's done. You open your eyes and smile. “Wow, it looks amazing, thank you” You get up from the chair and grab your purse. You hold your wrist out and she scans it. “Have a great day don’t forget to book an appointment a week before you plan on coming.” She smiles and bows as you walk out of the shop. You check the time on your phone and realize you only have two hours to get ready.

You quickly drive home and when you arrive you check the time. “Damn I only have an hour and a half to get ready.” You sigh rushing into the house and unlocking it signaling that Bakugou had left, probably to get ready as well. You quickly run up the stairs to see the beautiful gown is displayed on the mannequin you had in the room.

It was a deep ocean blue that faded into a white on the bottom. It had started displayed all across it and on the top part it curved down right above your belly button. Covering just the right amount of breast but enough to show off how nice they looked. Bakugou wouldn’t be happy as the back was very flashy as well. You quickly put on the big dress and it took a while. You fix your hair and right after you're done you hear someone honk outside your house. Must be the limo you thought. You grab the black heels you were going to wear for the night and rush down the stairs. You leave your house and see the limo. You lock the doors and rush to the limo jumping inside making sure to grab all of your dress and not to get it caught in the door of the car. You realized you forgot your mask at home but remembered it was around your neck. You slipped it one when putting on the dress.

After about half an hour of driving, you ended up arriving at a big castle-like mansion. “Thanks!” You say to the driver and hop out of the car putting your mask on. You make your way to the entrance and flashes start going off. People were taking pictures of you so you started to pose. After a few minutes, you walk into the big palace and see everyone either talking or dancing. Some people looked up at you while some ignored you. You saw someone with green flowy hair offer a hand out to you. You take it and smile walking down the stairs with him. Bakugou wouldn’t be too mad right? It's just one dance. He places his hand in yours and one on your waist. You both started dancing to the instrumental music playing. “I haven’t seen you around here before, are you now?” You had curiosity getting the better of you. “Wouldn’t you like to know Doll.” He smirks at you and spins you around. “Yes I guess you could say that I’m new” He spins you around again and stops you bringing you close to his face. But before he can kiss you someone pulls you away from him bringing you to his chest. The scent was familiar, it was Bakugou. “Move along extra she's mine” You hear him say to the green-haired boy. “Calm down man we were just dancing” The green boy raised his hands like he was innocent. “Yeah what dancing do you mean because I think you mean you trying to get your lips to dance across hers” He groans and pulls you away with him to the center of the ballroom. He grabs your waist and starts dancing. You look into his crimson red eyes and smile blushing softly. “I’m sorry baby he offered to dance I di-” He cuts you off with a kiss and you pull back blushing even harder. “Uhm can we go get some fresh air.” He nods wrapping his arm around your waist. You make your way to the garden where you could see the edge of the city. You both walk around the garden and soon make it to the edge where you look down and see clouds. “Bakugou, I have something to tell you.” You fiddle with your fingers and look up at him. “I don’t think this is going to work out-” He groans and starts laughing. “Fuck- I’m so glad now I can get rid of you” He has an evil grin on his face. “Wh-what do you mean Bakugou?” Your eyes widen as you step away from the edge but he grabs you. “God, do you know how hard it is for me to be around you all the time. ‘Bakubaby’ really come up with something less annoying please” He rolls his eyes and tears prick your eyes. “I just wanted to hit it with the dip” He starts laughing and you struggle to get out of his grip. He brings your body closer to the edge of the city. “God, I've been wanting to do this for so long, a quick and easy way out and if people come looking for you I can just say you fell off the edge. Even better I can say it right after I throw you off. I’ll start crying and hyperventilating screaming. Saying ‘oh shit she fell’” He started imitating what he’ll do once you're plummeting to your death. “Please- no- don't please” You plead with him. He lightens his grip on you but just as you thought you got through to him he throws you off and you scream.

And there you were, falling. Watching what it felt like slow-mo. He had a devilish smile on his face and you had tears running down your face. You felt the wind flow through your hair and your dress move all around. It was kind of peaceful if you think about it. The sun was setting letting a pink tint fall onto them. But in reality, this was the scariest moment in your life “Fuck” You say right before you fall into some trees and blackout.

(Next chapter sneak peek)

You open your eyes slightly surrounded by trees. You see a blurry figure hovering over you. Hair tinted white and red “You lucky son of a bitch” He says in shock as you get picked up. You moan and he looks down at you while he's carrying you. “I know it hurts but I’ll make it go away” and with that, you close your eyes.

An: This is my first time writing in like two years so if it's not up to your standards I'm sorry. But if you wanna be tagged in the next part then comment! Also if you have some suggestions on how I can improve please tell me I'm always open to criticism

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