#it just began to start playing with very sensible and right reasons

[neselibirmelankolik]

Uzun süre sonra aklımda çok haklı sebeplerle çalmaya başladı ve iyi geldi. Belki ihtiyacı olan başka birileri de vardır :')

[average-mako-enjoyer]

I keep seeing these posts about puriteens on my dash and I think I have a story to tell.

Back in the mid-2000s, I played this massive MMO. I was part of a large guild, made some friends there, and got involved in some very weird drama. All in all, I had a good time, but there was this one incident involving two weirdos that somehow changed my outlook on life (yes, that can happen through something as mundane as an MMORPG; epiphanies are a truly unpredictable thing).

Weirdo number one was an actual incel. Only back then we didn't have a term to describe his behavior (which included constantly harassing women in the game and on the game-related forum), so we just called him a "weirdo" and tried to avoid him at all costs.

Weirdo number two was a vice president of our guild. A guy in his late 20s who really wanted to be seen as a smart, sensible and righteous (of course, he was neither).

The incident began with Weirdo Number One posting on the game's forum a list of afab players titled "Top 5 Server Sluts," which included yours truly. In second place, mind you, I wasn't even a top slut! Shame! I was 17 at the time and it was my first experience of being called that. It was shocking and of course very upsetting (undeserved, I thought; I was very naive at the time and thought that people needed an actual reason to call you such a slur), but since the guy who did it was already known to be a massive weirdo, myself and two girls who were on the list and were members of our guild decided not to lash out or complain. Instead, we appropriated that slur.

We started jokingly calling each other sluts, arguing about our rankings on the list, and changed our statuses in group chat to Top Slut #2, #4, and #5. And it felt good. Empowering. The incel weirdo tried to degrade us, but we just said "no" to him and others like him in the most blatant way possible. We turned this humiliating, painful experience into a joke.

But then The Weirdo Number Two, the vice president, decided to pop up in the chat and tell us that since we didn't vocally object to this guy calling us sluts, we must really be slutty. He then continued to shame us in the chat to the glee of his then 16-year-old girlfriend. He was 27.

A few months later, he left the guild in a massive scandal and continued to call me a slut for another 4 years until the game servers were finally shut down.

That weirdo taught me some very important life lessons. Here they are:

Once you have done something the purist thinks is wrong, they stop seeing you as a person. It's perfectly fine to harass and threaten you

Purists don't really have the brains and empathy to understand that you have the right to process your trauma in ways they deem offensive

Purists are not okay with you doing the things they find repulsive, but they can do no wrong themselves. All their actions are justified

There's really nothing you can do to avoid the attention of such people

I am absolutely convinced that purist culture is vile and breeds the worst kind of people.

[runawaymun]

🪩🎧✅🥀❌🎬💿🎤 any and all of these for whichever of your original fiction WIPs you want!

*h e a v y b r e a t h i n g*

okay I am not going to do Thol babe that would take way to long. Let's do We That Remain!

(disco ball emoji) Would you want a movie adaption, TV, or something else? Animated or live action?

I think it'd make a movie best tbh. Or maybe a limited series but that almost feels too long.

🎧—What would the soundtrack be like?

soundtrack playlist coming right up

✅—Which character/plot point/etc would be your favorite to see on screen?

ULTANA AND RORY ULTANA AND RORY

“Do...do you remember the first time we met?” he asked. It was daft, but it was the only thing he could think of. It was worth it to hear that broken laugh from her lips at the memory.  She looked back at him, blinking back the tears with a shaky smile. “You were using my favorite tree as target practice.” “It was my tree,” he pointed out, a grin whispering over his face. “—And you missed and shot a notch right through my poetry book,” she retorted. “Anyway, it can’t be your tree. It was on my land. I was there first.” She was trying very hard to sound mad at him. He knew she wasn’t, and couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “That book is my favorite now.” “Nick and all?”  She looked straight at him, a gaze that seemed to fill him up until he might burst.  “Especially with the nick.” 

just. them. their everything. The whole quiet blooming of the romance aAAAAAaaaAAAAaaaAAUGH I want to peel my skin off every time I think about them!!!!

🥀—Which character/plot point/etc is most important for an adaption to get right?

Hugh. 100% Hugh. If Hugh's wrong the whole thing is off. Like Hugh makes actually one of the most objectively rational, sensible, and reasonable decisions in the book. Is it the right decision? No, not really, but it's the smart decision and he was doing it out of a misguided attempt to save everyone -- and it might have worked if, you know, it wasn't Queen Elizabeth and Charles Blount that he was making that bargain with.

And he does care about Ultana in his own really messed up way. He doesn't love her, but there is a level of respect and care there that I got wrong in the early drafts that emerged in the most recent draft -- you know how it is--- and that's really integral to understanding the book and their interactions and arcs.

❌—What’s the worst thing an adaption of your WIP could do? Your absolute worst nightmare?

Erinea x Thomas

or Erinea x anyone, really.

OR, or or, like let Mountjoy actually finish what he set out to do in that scene where Ultana stabs him in the hand with her hair pin. I could see some studio wanting to let him succeed for The Drama(tm) and I'd burn the place to the ground before I let that happen tbh.

🎬—Who would you cast as your characters?

So, in a perfect world:

Ultana O'Neill - Alex Kingston Hugh O'Neill - Daniel Day Lewis Erinea O'Neill - Amybeth McNulty Rory O'Donnell - Liam Neeson Baron Mountjoy - Jason Isaacs

like unfortunately most of these actors are no longer the correct ages to be playing these characters as they would have been when I started writing the thing, but that's who I cast and by god that's who they look like/sound like in my brain now tbh.

🎤—Describe the opening scene

I unfortunately have A Thing for starting out stories hot with a battle scene. But I like this one because it has a very particular spooky vibe to it. I would want to set the stage to make sure we get some very clear visuals on the state of the Irish army at the time. They're not doing well. Unforms are ragged/old. Pretty much everybody's wounded. We're cold, wet, exhausted, etc. etc. And then we get the English standing army -- and these guys emerge from the fog and they're almost inhuman tbh.

And of course you've got Mountjoy up on a hill above it all like a spectre.

Shapes began to glide through the trees, forming a line, then a circle, a slow deathwalk around the huddled ragtag army. Horses. Men on them. They stood at the edge of the trees, faces locked behind their helmets, armor and lances catching the cold morning sun. A single rider on a white horse made his way to the crest of the southern hill. His face was set with confidence, and his clothes were deadly red.

That's a scene I have so firmly affixed in my brain -- that first standoff between Rory, Hugh, and Mountjoy -- there really isn't much I would change about the visuals tbh. Like if there was ONE frame that I would want to make sure gets in the opening sequence it's that one, because that's the thing: Mountjoy's up there presiding. He's at the point of upmost advantage and confidence. He has nothing to lose. The odds are stacked overwhelmingly in his favor in this battle and he never stoops to join it, vs Rory and Hugh who are right down there in the thick of the fray. Also something-something 'i saw a rider on a pale horse and his name was death' heavy-handed symbolism y'know.

💿—Free space for anything I didn’t mention! Talk about things you would add, things that are important to you, or even lay out the plot of every episode of your Netflix Original if it suits you!!

Ultimately there are always scenes that get cut from adaptations, but one I'll fight tooth and nail for is the foaling scene. I feel in my soul that it would be on the chopping block and no. That's the first glimpse we get of Ultana commanding a room in her element and using a bit of authority -- especially around Hugh. And Hugh lets her. The foaling scene is crucial to understanding their relationship and that's a hill I'm willing to die on.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Frog (maining Bard back then) was secretly very amused by G'raha's routine in the forest, to the point of giving him credit for being plausibly a mysterious forest trickster spirit and she was just sad she already knew some other guy had been sent to do this task and had taken so long that Rammbroes had sent her to do it instead/as well, so she already knew exactly who would be after the exact same thing as her. So when it came to work ethic/teamwork/just explaining yourself and admitting a failure she gave him a D- on his report card for causing problems. And continuing to try to be cool on introduction. Like, the trying too hard vibes of this guy. Wowww.

Once his actual purpose and backstory came out she forgave him some more of that and stopped pitying him quite so hard and gave him a second chance, because he was actually quite similar to her and maybe that was what caused some more of her initial kneejerk "please stop" response to his antics... She can't help being earnest and heroic and neither can he, but at least she wasn't a nerd about it, you know?

She also rolled a critical social failure which levelled them out a bit when they were discussing the whole Allagan eye thing. She has a mysterious pink-bleached eye and patches in her hair, but her natural colour for both is dark red. Wires crossed as he angsted about his eye, she said "I have an odd magic red eye too!" (which is blatantly wrong) and her attempt to comfort him/relate to him ended up with them laughing together, and G'raha swearing he'd help her uncover the secrets of her (again, totally normal) red eye some day after her help here.

So she was just warming up to him as a friend when he went and sealed himself away >:(

In a moment of narrative parallels to their first meeting she immediately saw right through him as soon as she clapped eyes on the Crystal Exarch in that first vision. Like, oho, we're playing another game, are we G'raha? So when he sent her to the Syrcus Trench she was just excited to see what G'raha was up to. She was trusting him on the spot without question to the point where she assumed things like knocking her friends' souls out of their bodies was part of the plan, and also that she might be dealing with current timeline G'raha, so the time travel and chaotic vast scope of it all was the only real surprise once she began to get to grips with what was going on in the First.

When he lied and said that he had no idea who G'raha was or that he'd ever existed, she knew she had to play along, because that lie was so blatantly incorrect to her, never mind the waist-height catboy with G'raha's lower face visible was telling her these things, that she had to assume this was all part of the Grand Plan and the game they'd be playing. It also meant she trusted him fully even when the plan started unravelling, or the aether began to make her sick and she knew she had to grin and bear it and this was part of the struggle and she was willingly signing up to it for G'raha's sake. And to the point that overhearing Y'shtola grilling Urianger, she assumed that without question Urianger was being mysterious again for good reasons and Y'shtola had taken the wrong direction here, which she hated because Y'shtola had been such a guide to her and she felt bad that Y'shtola was too realistic and smart to FALL for the game, but had been left out of it and was also way too sensible to play it, which should have made Frog doubt why SHE was playing it, but everything she saw of the Exarch made her realise what an incredible person G'raha had become and she was rapidly falling down the rabbit hole of thinking he was a total badass and could do no wrong. Belated apologies were made to Y'shtola for just being a good friend and looking out for her.

Like, eventually, ShB is a lesson in "okay I have notes on how EVERYONE handled that situation" and as the player I was more sceptical of many things, but in character the only things that ever surprised Frog were moments when the Exarch was not actually perfectly in control or on top of things because she just assumed he'd achieved the pinnacle of wizardly awesomeness and was 3D-chess-ing way harder than he actually was, which, given the plot of Shadowbringers, was quite a leap of imagination to add MORE to that... Bless her. To be fair, no one could have anticipated Emet-Selch just having a gun.

Post ShB-MSQ after all the tearful reveals and drama and catboy rescuing, she realised maaaaaybe she had overreacted in certain ways herself because she had fallen a liiiittle bit in love with the catboy, and maaaaybe that had coloured her judgement but also he HAD been right and good, even if this was all a huge weird mess. Like is it actually wrong to wholeheartedly go along with some nonsense if it does actually end up saving multiple worlds at the end of the day? We literally did a whole side emotional arc about Urianger reconciling with the Minfilia problem he caused and how he and Thancred fell in love and became dads over it.

So in the chunk of the story where he's wandering around hood down but still firmly going by "Crystal Exarch" she cautiously began trying to scope out how he actually felt about her, except now he was doubling down on being all cool and mysterious even AFTER his face reveal and pretending like her yelling his name hadn't reduced him to tearful goo. Like maybe he'd just changed so much as a person that he wasn't actually relationship material or interested, and this was all some sort of weird nostalgia from who The Exarch had once been and she was willing things into existence - but nope, he sure was slipping up and acting gooey about her or wanting to go on adventures with her and that was definitely him letting his guard down... Before she ever came up with a plan for how to get him truly to drop the act and let her in emotionally, he went and did that and turned into a useless lump of rock in front of her, and that made her more annoyed at him than she'd ever been about any of his previous antics.

Er, which meant that when she finally got his soul back to the Source after gingerly carrying it around and not being shy talking loudly in front of it about how much she'd cared for him, she immediately kissed him on returning him to his body, once she was sure it had worked and she wasn't giving ARR!G'raha the shock of his life, because while he was fun and all, it was his Exarch-y behaviour that had won her over. Though she does have to reconcile that she'd taken a room in the Rising Stones with a view of the tower and been wishing G'raha goodnight every time she slept there, for example. Like, maybe this had been going on a little longer than she'd thought. Who knows!

Most of their relationship after that going into EW is just G'raha being stunned that he's allowed good things, and Frog mourning the fact that after all the annoying Tias she met, and how she ranked him right at the top of the top 10 of Most Annoying Tias, he still somehow won her over, and then reverted right back to being an annoying Tia with flashes of brilliance whenever she starts thinking about investing in a spray bottle, but it's too late. He's her annoying Tia and now she has a literal pocket sized boyfriend and knows the lengths they'd go to for each other, so no amount of complaining about the petty everyday stuff will ever overcome their big epic romance. Also she can pick him up by the scruff of the neck and shake him if he's too weird about something, and to his credit he IS calming down and getting more comfortable in his skin by the end of EW and the lessons learned therein :') I feel like a lot of UT's plot with him was quite wearisome for Frog who had already experienced this entire range of emotions but G'raha had been a step behind and actually needed that more than her, because sometimes living multiple lifetimes you still don't get a hint, and Frog is like. 21. And has already figured it all out on that front before him.

Sometimes you go on an epic character arc from "bully the catboy" to "bully the catboyfriend"

I have a Very Important question for all the wolgraha folks out there

What kind of relationship did your wol have with g'raha during CT, and how did that develop through shb and ew?

Please tell me your wolgraha stories, I am holding up the microphone and I'm very excited to hear y'all's stuff

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Night Drive (Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa) Rated

Pairing: Dilf!/College Professor! Kim Hongjoong × Younger College Student! Reader (Female) × Dilf/College Professor! Park Seonghwa

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Dilf AU.

Summary: Being picked up by her boyfriend for a date, Y/N has no idea about Hongjoong's plans nor about the surprise guest joining them in their little night drive.

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: Aged up/Older Ateez (but age differences are still within legal boundaries), exhibitionism, voyeurism, breast play, fingering, tiny allusion to infidelity (which I do not condone nor justify), breeding/pregnancy kink, slight creampie kink, katoptronophilia (mirror kink basically), daddy word, degradation, manhandling, unprotected penetrative sex (always use protection), Dom! SeongJoong, Sub! Reader

Taglist: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @brie02 @deja-vux @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @mingismoon @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02

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Rolling down the darkly tinted window of his midnight black Buick Regal, Hongjoong greeted the young and beautiful student that was standing by the curbside of the entrance to his college dormitories, her face lighting up instantly when she saw him. Wasting no second, she quickly opened the door and fitted her frame inside the passenger seat of the car.

"I was supposed to get the door for you." His lips curled up slightly into a pout.

"I know, but..... I just couldn't wait to see you." Leaning over, she boldly pressed her lips against that of the older male's, a soft and content hum being breathed out by him, soon turning into an annoyed whine when she pulled back too soon for his liking.

"Professor." Her tone changed slightly, a suggestive giggle escaping her lips as she leaned back in, this time the kiss turning more heated with her tongue attempting to slide inside his mouth, which he would have allowed had he not had on the back of his mind the other plans he had for the night.

"Naughty naughty girl, wanting to get frisky not even a minute into our date." He snorted softly as one of his hands came up to lightly pat her cheek with his palm in a chastising manner.

Switching the gear shift to drive, Hongjoong pulled out of the entrance and onto the main road to take both of them to the place he had chosen for their nightly getaway. The girl beside him was clearly anxious and he didn't blame her. It had been a grueling time the past weeks due to the semester being over and everyone, students and teachers were stressing over final exams. Hongjoong's hand still ached somewhat from grading too many papers and reports, his head pulsing endlessly with a killer migraine. But at last, that was all over and he was finally able to take his younger lover out properly, spend time with her after missing her voice, touch, body, and all of her in general. He had the entire evening planned out, unlike anything she would have expected. It was hard for him to suppress the smirk creeping into his features as he thought about how the night would end if his plans succeeded how he wanted them to.

He often took a small glance to see her pretty face looking out the window, tediously watching all the shops and cars they passed on the drive to whatever destination he was taking to her, which he adamantly refused to say, keeping his lips sealed. Every once in a while, he'd notice the way she squirmed in her seat, her fingers occasionally playing around with the hem of the white skirt she decided to wear or her palm straight on rubbing the side of her thigh.

"Oh so you are indeed horny my little kitten. Absolutely perfect." Hongjoong thought to himself. It was exactly how he wanted her: wet, horny and desperate by the time they made their first stop.

"Honey, I hope you don't mind, but I have to stop here for a second."

The girl didn't protest, simply nodded and didn't think too much about him pulling up and parking in front a luxurious building. Parking the car, Hongjoong waited patiently until a familiar figure finally came out and made their way over to his car, waving a hand in his direction. Not knowing there already was an occupant in the front seat, the stranger hastily opened the door, taking a step back when he saw who was sitting next to Hongjoong.

"Y/N?" He questioned in shock.

"Professor Park?" She exclaimed just as he, her head whipping over to demand an explanation from Hongjoong as to why one of the other professors from the university was currently there, especially when their relationship was to remain a secret from the school. Hongjoong however kept his grin plastered on, as if nothing was the matter.

"Sorry Hwa, looks like someone already took your seat."

Pointing over at the backseat, his friend let out a soft huff as he began closing the door.

"Wait! Seonghwa, don't close that door yet."

Reaching his hand over, Hongjoong unbuckled Y/N's seatbelt before telling her:

"Honey, go ride in the back with him."

Her eyes bulged out, her mouth muttering softly to him if he was insane, yet Hongjoong was still calm as he reached a hand up and caressed her cheek.

"Trust me baby." He whispered before placing a soft peck on her lips.

Reddening significantly, Y/N got out of the car, thanking the other male when he was kind enough to open the door for her to let her inside first before he himself took his place right next to her. Both of them looked over at each awkwardly, wondering what on earth was Hongjoong thinking. Y/N averted her gaze and stared at the floor mat, desperately hoping that afterwards, the witness to hers and Hongjoong's relationship wouldn't go directly to the school board and cause problems for them. Seonghwa on the other hand had so many questions spiraling in his head, mainly his friend's relationship with the student next to him, and more importantly, why he had kept that secret from him. The car ride now felt even more long and brooding with the tension in the air, the music playing from the stereo not helping at all and just making the environment more unpleasant.

Looking back at them through the rearview mirror, Hongjoong let out a small chuckle.

"I'm sure you're both wondering why I brought you here without telling you the reasons."

Seonghwa and Y/N glanced briefly at one another, the older male shrugging softly, just as lost as she was. Sighing softly, Hongjoong continued.

"Well to start off, I think it's very clear that all those rumors about a teacher and student sleeping together are indeed true my friend."

Seonghwa widened his eyes at Hongjoong, his lips parting as he let out an astonished scoff. Although more than once he heard a few whispers every now and then about his colleague getting too friendly with one of his students, he always believed them to be lies, knowing Hongjoong to be a sensible and well respected professor that would never risk his career over something like that. As if reading his friend's thoughts, Hongjoong piped up once more.

"What can I say? I couldn't resist myself when I saw her, especially when you see what's underneath those clothes of hers."

Peeking his head over, Hongjoong sweetly smiled at the quiet girl.

"Baby, do me a favor and unbutton your blouse for me. Let Seonghwa see those pretty tits of yours."

Y/N was taken aback by his sudden order, her voice getting caught in her throat and stammering out a bit of gibberish as she tried to remind herself to form proper words.

"Hong- Hongjoong!" She whisper yelled at him, embarrassed about being asked to do such a dirty request in front of another teacher. Seonghwa himself shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still saying absolutely nothing as he tried to look somewhere else.

"Oh come on kitten, don't be shy. You have the cutest set of tits a man could see. Besides...." Y/N could clearly see the smug grin on he was donning through the rearview mirror, his eyes also looking at her direction.

"I know very well you want Seonghwa to touch you. I heard you the other day talking with your friends, and if I remember correctly, you said you wouldn't mind having him play with your body and be his little toy."

Y/N lowered her head in shame. She didn't believe Hongjoong would have heard her when she said that. She didn't even dare lift her eyes to the man next to her, afraid of seeing whatever expression he had in his face. She did however, hear him chuckle amusedly, his voice finally being heard.

"Oh my. Hongjoong, is she really that much of a whore that she's fantasizing about fucking other men even when she has you?"

Taking off his seatbelt, Seonghwa scooted over towards her, his face coming so dangerously close she could feel his breath against her ear.

"What darling? Does he not fuck you enough? Is he not treating you properly? Or do you perhaps just want a more......endowed cock?"

Y/N couldn't help but shudder when his hand lifted up to cup her chin, turning her face so he could look her directly in the eye. Seonghwa couldn't deny that her startled look turned him on extremely.

"Now I'm extremely curious to find out just how cute you really are without those clothes on. Is Hongjoong just talking you up or am I really going to have to restrain myself from eating you up if I tear those clothes off one by one?" He hummed softly as he brushed his lips against hers, causing Y/N's breath to hitch slightly.

"Kitten, I believe I gave you an order a few minutes ago and you know I hate repeating myself. Undo your shirt so Seonghwa can look at your chest."

Y/N bit her lip as her hands reached up and began to pop each of the buttons of her grey cardigan. The pair of eyes on her right were burning a hole right through her and it only served to deepen the intense wanting she was feeling in between her legs. After undoing enough buttons to expose her black bra, Y/N pulled the material down enough so her breasts could pop out of them. The soft groan her teacher emitted helped fuel her pride, especially after looking up and seeing him nearly drool at the sight, tongue coming out to moisten his luscious and pink lips.

"Fuck Joong....you weren't kidding when you said she has a pretty rack." His hand clenched and unclenched itself in an effort to meet from reaching out to cup one of her tits in his palm.

Knowing exactly the lustful thoughts running through his friend's mind, Hongjoong was more than willing to grant them without any grudges.

"Now kitten, I want you to be a good girl and let Seonghwa play with you as he wants. Tonight, you're going to be his personal toy and you have to do everything he tells you to do. Am I making myself clear?"

Y/N quickly nodded, too aroused and turned on that she wouldn't have cared if it was Seonghwa touching her and Hongjoong watching or Hongjoong touching her and Seonghwa watching. She just wanted someone to help the emptiness she was feeling.

"You're serious about this Joong? I can really use her as my personal sex toy?" He questioned with a wicked grin, hand coming up to clasp around Y/N's jaw.

"She's all yours Hwa. We have a couple minutes before we reach the hotel that I booked a room in. Think you can get her wet enough by the time we get there?"

Seonghwa let out a hearty laugh at Hongjoong's challenge.

"I'll get her drenched without making her cum, don't worry about it."

Tilting her face towards him, Seonghwa winked at her before crashing his lips onto hers. Just as she suspected, Seonghwa's lips were soft and plump, and they seemed to be avid fans of nibbling playfully against her own lips. The hand that was on her chin swooped itself down and pressed itself against her sternum, fingers delicately caressing the skin around it. Sweeping his hand with feather light strokes, Seonghwa moved his fingers across the top of her breasts and then to the sides, caressing each and every inch of her skin, being careful not to directly touch her nipples. He wanted to tease her, rile her up, have her writhe and whine about the lack of contact on the parts of her body where she most needed him. He was enjoying himself, enjoying as he silently tortured the girl by merely touching the outer parts of her soft mounds. It didn't take long for her to notice this cruel pattern of his, the frustrated groan she poured out as his tongue devoured her mouth being a tell tale sign.

"Such an impatient one." Seonghwa chuckled, dragging his tongue down the side of her neck.

He then surprised her by cupping one of her breasts into his large hand, tenderly massaging the spongy like flesh while his thumb worked to harden the nipple even more. Y/N threw her head back, giving Seonghwa more access to press tiny love bites across her neck and collarbone. His other hand, being bored with nothing to do, came up and proceeded to give the same treatment its twin was receiving, groping it and fondling it until she was releasing the cutest noises to bless his ears.

"If you're already like this with me just touching your breasts, how will you be when I play with that pussy of yours?"

Y/N couldn't help but let an embarrassingly loud moan escape when she heard him say that, her walls tightening and clenching around nothing as she thought about having Park Seonghwa sliding his hand in between her folds. Even Hongjoong was surprised by the effect his friend was having on her, making him slightly jealous and yet not so as he was enjoying glancing over every now and then to watch his beloved girl be used in such a way by another man. He couldn't quite explain why, but offering up his prized possession as nothing more than an object of pleasure to someone else, his closest friend nonetheless, made him get unbelievably hard. If he could, he would have whipped himself out and would have started to beat his meat, but unfortunately he had to pay attention to the road in front of him, going slightly above the speed limit in an effort to reach the hotel as fast as possible, all while occasionally sparing a glance or two through the mirror to look at Y/N's lust filled state of mind.

"Spread your legs for me young lady. Let me see just how wet you are."

Obeying without hesitation, Y/N made sure to pull up her skirt, revealing the skimpy choice of lace underwear she had chosen for the evening. Seonghwa sucked in a deep breath when he saw it.

"Did you come here knowing you were gonna get fucked?"

"More like hoping she would get fucked." Hongjoong spoke up with a lighthearted teasing tone.

Hooking his fingers on the top of her panties, Seonghwa practically ripped the material off her body, sliding it down her legs before bringing it up to his face and inhaling deeply.

"Oh god you smell so delicious." He grunted as his nostrils basked in the scent of her arousal.

"Why don't you keep them as a memoir? Cause after tonight, I'm not letting you touch her again."

Hongjoong's statement made Seonghwa remember that he still had a task at hand. Making sure to tuck her panties inside his pant pocket, Seonghwa turned his attention back to her glistening folds. They were practically inviting him to shove his hand as far as it could possibly reach inside, he was very tempted to even fist her tiny hole right then and there. But he would much rather prefer to work her up even further, tease her until she was begging him to fuck her. When she saw his hands come down, Y/N instinctively parted her knees even further, adjusting herself on the seat so he could reach every part of her exposed womanhood.

"You've trained the slut well Hongjoong." Both the trainer and his trainee lit up at the praise from their guest.

"Yes, my girl is the best." Hongjoong proudly added, as he reached a hand back to squeeze one of Y/N's legs in a loving manner.

Seonghwa's thumbs slid themselves right up to her groin, massaging the tendons at either side of her pussy, only briefly allowing them to brush against her lips. Y/N couldn't help but gasp as he pulled the flesh at either side, stretching out her wet entrance slightly, the cool air from the air conditioning hitting right at her slopping mound. Seonghwa continued this pattern of pressing her swelling lips apart and then rubbing his fingers down the sides, frustrating the recipient as he didn't actually touch the parts where she needed him most. He was toying around with her again, no doubt trying to get her to beg.

"Please daddy-" Being so frustrated by the slow, shallow movements of the fingers that refused to budge and stimulate her clit, Y/N called out for the person in front.

"Babygirl, you're asking the wrong person. I told you that for now you're Seonghwa's little plaything. So if you think I'm going to intervene, you're absolutely wrong." One corner of Hongjoong's lips curled up when they heard her pleading whines, yet he still did nothing.

"Why don't you ask him yourself what you want? No.... beg him. I know for a fact he likes girls who beg."

When she looked up at him with a pout, Seonghwa let out an amused chortle.

"What is it you want darling? Hmm? Tell me." He encouraged her as his fingertips faintly brushed against her clit, causing her legs to tremble and her hole to secrete more juices out her body.

"That... please...touch me there." She groaned as she tried to take hold of Seonghwa's hand and place it right on top of her heat, but he kept it firmly away, lightly laughing at the state she was in.

"Where darling? You're going to have to be specific."

He was making her feel more and more frustrated to the point of losing all timidity and decorum.

"Park Seonghwa fucking pound my pussy with your fingers!"

Hongjoong widened his eyes in amazement at her use of his colleague's name, but he wasn't mad. On the contrary, he wanted to see how her tiny show of disrespect for the older male, who was also her professor, would play out. Seonghwa stayed still momentarily, making Y/N believe that she might have gone too far. Just as she was about to apologize, a half strangled yelp was pulled out of her body when two fingers dove inside her drenched hole with no warning, aggressively starting a pace of deep strokes, burying themselves as far as they could reach. While his 2 longest fingers were busy working her open, his thumb decided to occupy itself by rubbing against her clit, its rhythm matching that of the other members.

"This what you wanted?" Seonghwa asked, lips attaching themselves onto her neck once more.

"Oh God yes! Yes! Fuck! You're gonna make me cum..you're going to.."

Y/N panted loudly, hips practically humping themselves against Seonghwa's hand, trying to reach that peak that was just within her reach. Just as she felt herself about to spill over, Seonghwa stopped all movements inside her pussy and against her clit, hindering her desire to cum.

"No! Please!" She cried out, eyes scrunching with tears as her head dropped back on the head rest of the car. When her own hand tried to reach down to her groin, Seonghwa was quick to catch it, nearly crushing it in his own.

"No darling, we're having none of that. I told you I was going to get you wet without letting you cum. We could have taken this the easy way but you chose to disrespect me and therefore I had to punish you. Now..."

Releasing her hand, he dropped his fingers and stuffed them back inside her pussy, her walls pulsing against them, screaming to be allowed to release into his palms.

"Let's try this again."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she felt the delicious sensation of Seonghwa slipping his fingers in and out of her, this time setting a more slow and sensual pace. Being edged by him for what seemed like hours and having been dangerously close to her high just minutes ago, it didn't take long for Y/N to start producing those endearing moans of hers again, her high building up once again rather fast. She melted into his touch, hips once again grinding up as if they had a mind of their own. Just as her walls clenched up once again, Hongjoong made his presence known.

"We're here."

Letting out a disappointed sigh at being denied her orgasm again, Y/N began to quickly fasten the buttons of her top while Seonghwa helped out by adjusting her skirt and pulling it down to cover up her lower half. Helping her out of the car, Hongjoong gestured for them to follow him as he led them through the reception desk and towards the elevators. As if it was fate, the elevator they got in was completed alone, leaving the three of them inside as it climbed up towards the respective floor they were assigned to. Looking over and seeing was currently distracted by watching the numbers on the screen change, Seonghwa took the opportunity to continue his fun, fingers snaking under her skirt to cup her ass. Being startled by the sudden touch, Y/N let out a soft whimper that was heard by Hongjoong. Looking over, his eyes immediately spotted what was the cause of her reaction.

"Seriously, couldn't even wait til we were behind closed doors?" Hongjoong let out a disappointed click of his tongue.

"Hey, you did say I was free to play with her as I liked. Besides, wanna make sure she stays as wet as possible cause as soon as the door is locked, I'm stuffing her full of cock."

Y/N's thighs squeezed themselves together after hearing him say that, the action not going unnoticed by both men at her sides.

"Just wait a little longer doll and I'll make sure you cum like you want to."

It seemed like forever until the doors finally opened to let them onto their floor. Knowing just how antsy the other two were about fucking each other, Hongjoong went up ahead of them and quickly slid the key in. Opening the door, he let them both inside first, a suspicious smile still on his face that confused his friend.

"You're enjoying this a little too much aren't you?" Seonghwa quirked an eyebrow up at him, his hands making a quick work of his shirt.

"Oh trust me when I say I'll enjoy it even more by the end of it." Hongjoong answered as he took a seat on one of the beds.

"I don't want you complaining later though if your little slut prefers my cock over yours." Seonghwa's little taunt had absolutely no effect on Hongjoong, he knew very well where his sweet heart's love resided with.

Turning around, Seonghwa was surprised yet also not surprised to see Y/N already naked on the bed, her legs spread out and inviting him to take advantage of her. Her facial expression seemed restless, eyes begging him to come over and end her torture already. Coming over to the front and seeing her more clearly, Seonghwa felt his cock twitch when he saw her full nude body, the light in the room letting him fully see all the details he couldn't quite clearly make out back in the car.

"Oh lord, she is absolute stunning Joong." Seonghwa complimented as he finished undressing himself, his cock already leaking at the tip.

"I did tell you once that younger babes were extremely hot and better. Well now you get to fuck my babe." Hongjoong's face proudly donned a satisfied expression at someone else appreciating his girlfriend.

Looking over at the dresser that had complementary goodies left for them, Seonghwa went and grabbed the pack of condoms since he hadn't planned on getting lucky that night.

"Ummm actually Seonghwa, I want you to fuck her raw, and be sure to spill your cum inside her."

His friend wasn't the only one who looked at him as if he was insane, Y/N was shocked by his request.

"N-no Daddy......" Her voice called out.

"Hmm? Why not princess?" Hongjoong smoked at her.

"My birth control ran out 2 weeks ago. If he cums inside me, I could....." She didn't even dare finish that sentence, but she knew they understand what she meant. Hongjoong however continued to look unfazed, in fact, his smile grew wider, almost to the point of being mischievous, which slightly worried her.

"Even better if I ask me princess, you see..... I want you to be bred." His confession both scared and aroused both of the other two participants.

"You've really lost your mind."

Giggling at his friend's words, Hongjoong looked at him with an assuring gaze.

"No I haven't. But trust me Seonghwa, I won't say anything, no one will know. Just do me this favor and fill my baby's pussy up with your cum."

When Seonghwa still hesitated, Hongjoong decided to persuade him even further.

"Look at her and tell me you don't want to stuff her young cunt full of your cum. And if you do knock her up, think of how cute she'll look with a swollen belly, carrying your child."

Unable to resist looking over after Hongjoong painted that image in his head, Seonghwa's gaze dropped towards Y/N's stomach. He unconsciously bit his lip as he thought about how fertile she probably was, and the thought of impregnating her with a baby of his own was driving him wild. Tearing down anymore hesitations he had, Seonghwa went back over to where she was. Y/N gasped when he pulled her towards the edge of the bed, hands keeping her legs open as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her folds.

"You ready to get knocked up with one of my babies?" He chaffed at her, smirking when a loud moan was drawled out by her as she pressed herself against his shaft even more.

"Cause I know I can't wait."

Letting out a piercing grunt when the cock of her professor penetrated deep inside her, Y/N's hands clutched at the sheets underneath her, whimpers already being poured out as Seonghwa's hips snapped roughly against hers. She shut her eyes as she sunk deeper and deeper into a blissful, euphoric haze, feeling nothing but how deep the cock inside her was being driven in, the head brushing against her cervix. That thought alone had her inner flesh pulsing and squeezing against the girthy shady tearing her apart, making her dizzy and blind with nothing but lust. She couldn't even register or hear all the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

"Such a nice and tight pussy. Keep clenching around me like that and it won't take long for me to fill you up with my seed." Seonghwa hissed, a hand dropping to rest on top of her stomach.

Y/N's back arched upwards, mouth fully agape as the most earth shattering wails were produced even heard by the rooms next to theirs.

"You enjoying this darling? Don't worry. You're certainly not the only one."

Clasping his fingers around her jaw, Seonghwa tilted Y/N's face so she could look over at the bed next to where they were. She spasmed violently when she took in the image of Hongjoong, sitting there shirtless, pants and briefs pulled down enough so he'd be able to pump his cock in his hand. When he had undressed, she didn't know, but she couldn't take her eyes off him, watching as he jerked himself off to the scene of his friend fucking her into the bed, the pace of his hand matching the pace set by Seonghwa's thrusts.

"Oh trust me she's enjoying this just fine. She's absolutely loving being treated as nothing more than a fuck toy, being lent to another man as her owner gets off on the sight of her being bred." Hongjoong's words were not helping as she started to tense up, feeling ready to explode and cum all over the thick cock inside of her.

"Please, please Mr. Park..." She muttered out, face turning towards him once again.

"Please what toy? Speak up." He commanded her as he started grinding his hips harder into her, the movements of his pelvis rubbing against her engorged clit and heightening her pleasure.

"Please let me cum. Wanna cum." She begged him, whine after whine being forced out of her each time Seonghwa pushed back into her body.

Feeling merciful, especially after edging her so much in the car, and more so because he felt himself about to shoot his load in her as well, Seonghwa moved his hand that was on her stomach so it could come down and rub aggressively at her clit.

"Go on baby. Cum for me so I can breed you like the little bitch you are."

Y/N toppled over the edge after hearing those dirty words, strangled cries and unintelligible words slipping out of her throat. She couldn't stop shaking underneath the older man that was fucking her, body out of control as it twisted and writhed from the sensuous oblivion she fell into. Desperate gasps scrambled for air as liquid gushed out of her to coat the dick that was still being driven in her.

"Oh fuck fuck! I'm going to cum inside your little hole now."

She barely registered the grunts being said by the person in front of her, her body only feeling and paying attention to the hot fluids being impelled to her womb. Knowing she was full of cum and it was extremely probable she'd be pregnant thrilled and excited her, while simultaneously making her anxious and nervous.

After finally catching his breath, Seonghwa pulled out of her, the cum that was leaking out of her threatening to make him hard again and fuck her once more just to see it all over again.

"Don't get any ideas." The warning voice of his friend brought him back to the reality that the young woman on the bed was only borrowed for the moment, and mostly due to the sick amusement of said friend.

Dressing himself up in his clothes, Seonghwa went over where Hongjoong was.

"Satisfied?"

Hongjoong snorted as he looked down at the tiny splatter of cum that had dripped into the carpet.

"Very much so."

Rolling his eyes, Seonghwa finished putting on the last of his clothes before picking up his phone. Seeing the time, he apologized and told Hongjoong he needed to get home right away.

"I'll take a cab. I'm sure you probably want some more time with her."

Hongjoong blushed a little at his friend's insinuation. Before Seonghwa could walk out the door, Hongjoong called out to him.

"Hey....say hi to your wife and kids for me."

Seonghwa couldn't help the laugh that bursted out his lips.

"I will. See you soon."

Closing the door, Hongjoong was finally left alone with his girl, who was currently sitting up, staring at him intently. Getting up from his seat, he came over to where she was and helped her stand up. Smoothing out some of her disheveled hair, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his free hand tilting her face up as he pressed his body closer to hers. Pulling away to soon for her liking, Y/N pouted at him as she wrapped her hands around his waist.

"Come on. We gotta get you cleaned up."

Taking her hand, he guided her inside the bathroom, where he sat her against the vanity counter. Noticing that she was still looking at him funny, Hongjoong tilted his head to the side and cupped her cheeks.

"What's wrong babygirl?" He mimicked her tiny pout, a feat he often did that tended to annoy her, making her feel as if she was a little child.

"Funny how you care so much about getting me pregnant, yet you get someone else to do the job for you."

Huffing loudly, she brushed past him to be able to get inside the shower, but she was quickly pulled back by one of his hands that slammed her back against the counter. Looking up, she was expecting to see an angry expression, but instead Hongjoong had a smirk that told her he was up to no good.

"Is that what's bothering you princess? The fact it wasn't me the one breeding you? Oh baby.."

Turning her around abruptly, Y/N gasped when he pried her legs open and pressed her chest against the cold marble counter. When she felt his dick come to live and poke at her ass, she immediately pressed her lower half out towards him, the action making Hongjoong get a smug expression.

"You really are the best girl kitten, offering yourself to me like the little slut you are."

Y/N felt her body getting hot once again when on of Hongjoong's hands caressed in between her thighs, running up dangerously close to her heat until he reached her entrance.

"Ok then kitten. Let's fill you up with my cum now, since you want it so much."

Being stuffed with a cock once more, Y/N clung onto the counter underneath her as Hongjoong was showing no mercy as he rammed into her from behind. He always did enjoy brutally fucking her until she was left sore and limping, something no one would have ever guessed given his stature being more on the shorter side. But he definitely made up for it with his experience in making a woman numb to everything except the feeling of his dick being pounded into their pussies, precisely the feeling Y/N was going through at the moment. Her head rested itself against the counter, unable to bear the overwhelming pleasure the man behind her was putting her through.

"Oh no no kitten. I'm having none of that."

Wrapping his hand around her hair and twisting it to a makeshift ponytail, Hongjoong forced her to look up into the mirror in front of her. The ravenous and almost beast like way his eyes stared at her made her weak, pussy contracting around his length as her legs started to wobble.

"Look at you, I want you to watch as I fuck you full of my cum. Look at how I'm going to knock you up with my kids."

Strangled panting was the only audible sounds Y/N could make out, through the mirror she could see that Hongjoong was falling into the same haze she was in. Releasing her hair, he wrapped his hand around so it could rest on the top of her belly button, gently caressing the soft skin there.

"You're such a good girl for letting me do this. You know I'll take care of you right?" His loving reassurance, followed by the light presses his lips made on the nape of her neck were making her go insane. Her mind was running wild with thoughts of Hongjoong getting her pregnant, such a risky and dangerous situation but she was ready for it.

"Hongjoong fill me up! Fuck a baby into me! I want it, I want your cum!"

Her desperate pleas had an immediate effect as Hongjoong pistoned his cock deeper in her, a few last powerful jolt of hips and he was filling her to the brim, her tight pussy making sure to milk him out of every last drop of cum he had in him. Feeling him spill inside her and seeing him throw his head back in pleasure through the mirror, Y/N followed not long afterwards, shockwaves rippling through her body in another intense orgasm. It was a miracle Hongjoong still had his hands around her hips to keep her from falling down to the ground due to the violent shake of her legs. Even after they had both calmed down, Hongjoong still stayed nestled inside of her, nose brushing against the back of her head, inhaling her scent passionately. He let out a tired hum as he buried his face into her neck.

"I love you so much." He admitted, which made Y/N smile.

"I love you too." She responded, turning her head to press a kiss on his temple.

"And I can't wait to carry your baby."

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,947

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

Cillian’s POV

Shortly after Denise got home from her rather miserable date with Jeremy, Cillian went to bed. It was only 9 o’clock but he thought that he would spend some time finishing reading the book he had started to read two nights ago.

The problem was that, even when he tried hard to focus on the content of the book, he couldn’t.

His mind was overrun with guilt about what had happened between you all so suddenly and unexpectedly and he still wasn’t so sure why he had given into you so easily. It was almost like he had lost all of his self-control in that moment.

This kind of behaviour was unusual for him. Usually, he would have been more sensible than this. After all, he was 45 and never had a one-night stand in his entire life.

Would you share this with anyone?

Probably not, he thought. He had known you for a while and you weren’t the type of woman who was actively seeking attention. You were always somewhat nerdy and a bit of loner. For years, he had known you to be sensible and he always liked that you were looking out for his daughter Denise. You were more mature than her and were always somewhat shy and reserved.

With this in mind, he was even more surprised by your actions. You seducing him the way you did seemed out of character for you which made him nervous.

Did you have feelings for him?

He certainly hoped that you didn’t. For him, this was nothing but sex and he would hate to give you the feeling that it was something more. He didn’t want to hurt you.

He should never have given into you. He knew that it was wrong and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he acted so selfishly because, in his mind, this was exactly what it was. An act of selfishness.

You were young and clearly inexperienced which made this whole thing even worse. It was obvious to Cillian that you hadn’t been with many men before and he felt as though he took advantage of you even despite the fact that you were the one who made a move on him. He should have stopped you.

The fact that he is seeing someone else in Manchester didn’t help either and, whilst it wasn’t anything serious or exclusive, it felt wrong to him to be intimate with you which, in his own mind, brought him to another dilemma all together.

Why didn’t he use protection when he slept with you?

He knew that he could have simply walked into his son’s bedroom and find what he needed. But he didn’t. Instead, he was so consumed by lust that he forgot all about the need to be play it safe. Of course, he always reminded his adult children about the importance of protection and yet, he failed to adhere to his own rules.

Whilst he knew that you didn’t have many sexual partners and any risk associated with contracting STDs was somewhat low, he worried that you weren’t on birth control.

Why on earth didn’t he at least ask you about it? Was it too late to ask you now? Why did you make him pull out?

WHAT THE FUCK HAD HE DONE???

He panicked and he knew he had to talk to you in order to ease his mind.

YOUR POV

After you listened to Denise about her date gone wrong and what an asshole Jeremy actually was, you also made your way to bed. You felt terrible for her but knew that she would meet someone else who would make her happy and treat her well.

But her date with Jeremy wasn’t the only thing you felt terrible about. Even more so, you felt terrible about sleeping with her father which you knew was wrong and yet, you tried to justify it in your head.

Why did you act so selfishly and gave into your sexual needs?

This was something you had never done before. You were rather careful when it came to getting yourself involved with guys.

You had taken a liking in your friend’s father several years ago when you were 19. But then, it was just a silly crush you thought.

When you heard about his divorce however, you began to fantasise about him in your sleep and this was simply a fantasy you had finally acted upon.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that he was your friend’s father.

Would she mind if she knew?

Maybe she wouldn’t. She might just think that you are disgusting for sleeping with her dad but, in the end of the day, you are two consenting adults.

Why couldn’t you stop even when you realised that what you were doing was wrong?

When you made the first move it was almost like you were in a trance. You were overwhelmed. You wanted every bit of it but you never experienced sex quite like this. It was intense and he certainly knew what he was doing.

Whilst Cillian was much older than you, you were extremely attracted to him. Everything about him was perfect in your mind and he felt incredible when he was inside you.

You wanted so much more and thought that, perhaps, if it was just sex, it wasn’t wrong after all.

Together Again

Just as those thoughts raced through your mind, you heard a quite knock on the door.

Thinking that it was Denise, you didn’t bother to cover up as you were sitting on the guest bed in black cotton panties and a tight cotton singlet.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t Denise who walked into the guestroom when you called out ‘come in’. It was Cillian.

His chin dropped as soon as he saw you. For some reason, he took a liking in your rather simple but yet revealing outfit, your messy hair and your black framed reading glasses.

‘Hey’ you simply said shyly as he was standing there speechless.

‘Hey’ he responded, swallowing harshly before telling you that he needed to talk to you.

‘Sure’ you said, putting the magazine down which you were reading along with your reading glasses. Then, you scooted over on the bed and indicated to him to sit down next to you.

His scent was intoxicating. He was freshly showered and his hair was still wet but you could still smell a hint of his aftershave on him.

‘So, what do you want to talk about?’ you asked without bothering to cover up your naked skin and you could see Cillian’s mind working overtime while the tension was building.

‘About what happened between us’ he then stammered while he observed your eyes wandering towards where they shouldn’t. But, you couldn’t help it and, when you noticed that he was reacting to your presence, you bit your lips seductively.

‘What happened between us was just sex. It’s not a big deal. People have sex all the time and you can trust me Cillian. It will remain our little secret’ you said in a seductive voice while moving your hand over Cillian’s upper thigh, through the hairs on his exposed skin and then all the way towards the rim of his boxers.

‘Y/N’ he barely managed to stammer, swallowing harshly.

‘Yes Cillian?’ you then smirked, noticing the effect you were having on him and moving your hand farther up his legs and beneath his boxers where you began to stroke his cock.

‘You are so hard’ you then whispered as you received no response from him other than a groan and, just as you did, Cillian took hold of you and pushed you beneath him in one swift movement.

Without words, Cillian’s warm lips met yours in a passionate kiss. The kiss was more urgent than before and you loved the way he asserted his dominance as his tongue circled around yours.

He felt such desire for you that he thought he would explode and, whilst he was normally quite vocal, every word he tried to say and every question he was going to ask you, were caught in his throat.

Wrapping your arms round him you ran your hands up and down his firm back as your mouths ground together. Sucking on each other's lips and plunging your tongues into each other’s mouth.

You couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to be kissed in such an experienced, almost sophisticated way and Cillian was marvelling at how someone so young could have learned to kiss so well.

Within split seconds and in between heated kisses, Cillian’s t-shirt and your singlet landed on the floor.

It wasn’t long until Cillian’s mouth left yours and began to wander over your firm breasts and then all the way down to your stomach which is where they came to a halt.

He interlocked his fingers with your panties and pulled them down, letting them join the other clothes on the floor before his head gracefully disappeared in between your legs.

‘It goes without saying, but you need to be quiet’ Cillian chuckled and you barely managed to nod before you covered your own mouth with the palm of your hand as Cillian dipped his tongue straight into your wetness.

‘Oh god yes’ you whimpered quietly as the rasping roughness of his tongue slid along your velvety wetness and sent enormous tremors through you.

You had little experience of either, receiving or, giving oral sex. In your world of mainly inexperienced boys, it was hardly on the agenda as they were generally too keen to get their rocks off to worry overly about your pleasure. In any case in the usually rushed episodes in the back of cars or downstairs with parents in bed there was hardly the time let alone the opportunity for languid pussy licking or sensual cock sucking. In the world of the forty-five year-old man lying between your opened legs, however, it very much was on the agenda and he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

You moaned loudly as you were holding Cillian’s head in both hands as he licked the length of your pussy. He did it slowly with just the right amount of pressure making sure that the tip of his tongue fully anointed both lips and licked just inside them on that especially sensitive area.

When you moaned a little too loudly again, he reminded you to be quiet just before he sucked and kissed you again, covering every inch of the outside of your pussy before pushing the straightened tip of his tongue inside and probing upwards licking the insides as he started to tongue fuck you.

‘This feels so fucking good’ you stammered, legs shaking and quivering while Cillian held you tightly and it wasn’t long until you reached an orgasm which sent convulsions through your body.

You moaned a little too loud again as your whole body tingled and felt tender to the touch and tears of pleasure and relief, with a tinge of guilt, poured down your cheeks.

‘That was amazing’ you eventually huffed out as you slowly came down from your high and Cillian kissed his way back up your body until his lips reached yours.

‘You taste so fucking good’ he then whispered into your ear after your lips drifted apart and, just as he did, you reached in between his legs and began stroking his cock which was still rock hard.

‘I want to feel you inside me again…please…just once more’ you begged and the sound of you begging alone made Cillian groan.

‘Fuck Y/N…I want you so much’ he whispered as he pulled down his boxers and his wiggling body urged your legs to open so that his cock lay between your thighs with the bulbous end of it pressed against your lips.

‘Then take me’ you groaned marvelling at the fact your friend's dad was about to fuck you.

With the tip of his cock just slightly parting the lips of your pussy and his arms round your body with his hands gripping your taught bum he muttered something you couldn’t understand. It was obvious to you that his mind was hardly able to accept what was happening. Nonetheless, he wanted it so badly and, with a shrug of his hips, he sank his cock deep into your gorgeously tight and wonderfully welcoming pussy.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you groaned as your fingernails were digging into his back.

He pushed himself in as far as it would go, eliciting more groans from you which he had to quickly silence with his lips.

You felt light-headed and deliriously happy. You also felt very filled. Cillian was bigger than the other guys you had been with and you loved the feeling of being stretched. The folds of skin that guard your clit seemed to be open and that so sensitive place felt to be exposed, so as Cillian started moving slowly up and down it was as though his cock was rubbing on it. You had never felt anything like it before. Just as you had never felt like cumming when a man's cock had only been inside you for a few moments.

Somehow, however, you managed to delay your release just a little bit longer, enjoying as Cillian thrusted into you hard and deep until, eventually, the inevitable happened.

‘Let go, there is no need to hold back’ Cillian reassured you and, just as he did, you allowed your orgasm to wash over you.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you shouted out and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand as he continued to thrust into and watched you lose control.

Your legs were shaking once again as you gave in and, when you finally came down, Cillian pulled out of you.

Thinking that he was done and that he wanted you to proceed as before, you scooted up but, to your surprise, Cillian pulled you on top of him instead.

‘Your turn to take what you need Y/N’ Cillian whispered and you couldn’t help but shiver at his words. He wanted you on top and that was yet another first for you.

‘You can cum again’ he then said but you couldn’t help but shake your head.

‘I don’t think I can, but I am willing to try’ you smirked. He had already given you four orgasms that day which were four more orgasms than anyone else before him had given you.

‘I bet you can’ he then winked and you nodded shyly before taking his hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance.

‘I will be sore tomorrow I think’ you whispered as, with a moan, you sank down on his hard cock.

‘Yes, you will be’ Cillian chuckled as, all of a sudden, he thrusted upwards and deep into your mound, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Once again, he covered your mouth with his hand as you began to ride him.

‘You feel so fucking good, you know that?’ Cillian groaned as you began to move up and down on his hard shaft. He certainly had become vocal now and you loved it.

‘So tight around my cock’ he then groaned as he met your thrusts and he could hear you starting to whimper.

‘Oh god…yes, fuck my pussy’ you moaned quietly, holding his hand and keeping it near your mouth while sucking on his fingers.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel it. Fill me with your cum’ you then demanded as you began to ride his cock harder and faster and, by this point, Cillian had lost all self-control.

The dirty talk, the tightness of your pussy and the way your lips played with his fingers was too much for him.

‘Cum with me Cillian’ you then moaned as you let go and so did he.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes…fuck’ you groaned as such amazing feelings flooded your body and you felt him push into you as far as he could go.

‘Fuck Y/N’ grunted as you both climaxed simultaneously and you soared to a height of pleasure you had never previously experienced when Cillian’s cock exploded sending streams of his cum into you.

‘Oh god that was amazing’ you eventually huffed out when you both stopped moving.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian grunted almost at the same time before his eyes shot open and he saw your satisfied smile.

Carefully, you climbed off him, releasing his cock from your tight pussy before you sat down on the bed next to him.

You spread your legs and, with curious eyes, you looked down on yourself and watched some of Cillian’s cum leak from your core.

‘That feels so fucking good…so warm and wet’ you observed as you collected some of his cum with your finger and brought it to your mouth while Cillian cocked an eyebrow, wondering what you were doing.

‘Uhm…?’ Cillian chuckled, watching you almost speechlessly but yet somewhat turned on.

‘I never had a guy cum inside me but this is so fucking sexy’ you observed with a laugh before reshuffling yourself and collapsing into his arms.

‘Yeah, about that…’ Cillian went on to say…

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[raggaraddy]

hello, so if you still take requests i want to request yandere reaction where the reader is as possesive as them, or like she willingly do anything for them and obey them. its totally okay if you dont feel like writing it or maybe you dont take request.. its just im craving reading something like that and youre a great writer :)

A/N: Hi, I am still new to writing reactions, so I hope that this is what you wanted or you at least like it.  Thank you for your sweet comments. Enjoy!

Mine

Summary: When another girl gets a little too comfortable with Jungkook your reaction's a surprise to the both of you.

Trigger warnings: Fighting, mentions of abuse, violence.

Jungkook

You had begged Jungkook to take you with him tonight. He'd been so busy with work lately and you'd found yourself missing him too much when he was gone. So when he said he wasn't staying home tonight, but he was instead going out to a bar with some of his friends, you were enthusiastic for him to take you with him. It had used to be the complete opposite. Every time he left you alone, gave you some time to breathe on your own, you were thrilled. But more and more you'd started noticing him in a new light.

Sure he's rough and demanding sometimes. And yeah, he can lose his temper every now and then. But you're not perfect either, and you know it must be hard for him, especially when you behaved so insensitively at first. However, despite your flaws or his, he deeply loves you. He accepts you for who you are and he wants nothing more than to keep you safe. How could you ever find anyone else who cared for you as much as your Kookie did?

The night started as every night out with Jungkook did. He listed out the same rules over that he had said dozens of times before.

You have to listen to everything he says and do everything he says. You don't talk to anyone unless he's with you, and most importantly, you never leave his sight. You had tried to run off a few times in the past, so you knew how deathly serious he was about that last one.

After thoroughly prepping you, and dressing you, and warning you one last time to mind the rules, the both of you finally went to meet his friends.

"Sit. Here." Jungkook pointed to the booth table at the back of the bar. You slid in and he right away pushed in alongside you, nudging you in further and further until you were all but barricaded against the wall. As his friends began to come in one by one, they all joined in a large group. While the night went on, you talked among his friends and their girlfriends. A few people got food, but most people were just drinking to excess. You of course got the choice of soda or water. Every now and then throughout the evening, you could feel JK's attention on you, and you would hug his arm a little tighter to let him know you were paying attention to him too.

At some point, it was Jungkooks turn to buy the next round.

"Y/n." He whispered lowly. Even in the middle of a conversation and with the music playing in the background, his voice caught your focus right away. You looked up to him, a small smile and big eyes. "I'll be back in a few minutes." His lips pressed to your ear, his warm breath blowing along your neck spiking tingles down your side. "If you even try to move while I'm gone, I'm going to pin you to the table by putting this butter knife through your hand." He twirls the point of the dull knife into the table, scratching the wood.

Your smile grows a little bit bigger at his threat. Not because you think he wouldn't do it, but because you know there is no way he would ever need to do it. You're not going anywhere.

Your fingers linger with his, holding on for a few seconds extra as he gets up. While the conversations go on, your concentration keeps flicking to Kookie. Watching every now and then to make sure he hasn't left your sight either.

On one momentary glance, you catch sight of some random woman standing too close to him. They're at the bar, and it's quite crowded so it could be nothing, but she doesn't look like she is ordering drinks. She's completely facing him. Talking to him.

Slowly your frustration starts to build as a few minutes pass and they stay in the same position. You don't know who she is, you've never seen her before. Jungkook's body language expresses that he doesn't know her as well. She, however, is acting way too familiar. Laughing, smiling, flicking her hair and pushing her chest out like some kind of desperate slut.

You're trying to let it pass. But after only about 10 minutes of silent stewing, that's all you can tolerate. You know your Kookie has no interest in any other girls. He's just too innocent to realize that this girl is flirting with him. That, or he is only trying to be polite.

She crosses the line though when she decides to put her hand on his arm.

He might have told you to stay in your seat, and you know he is going to at the very least slap you for willingly going against his rules, but you have had enough and you're not going to allow this bitch to paw all over him anymore.

Shuffling out of the booth, you take heavy, furious steps towards them. The second you're in reach you draw against Jungkooks side, wrapping your arm around his. At the same time, you roughly and forcefully shove the heel of your palm into this girls shoulder, knocking her back and off of him. She stumbles looking shocked and fleetingly frightened. You're not done sending a message yet.

"The next part of you that tries to touch him is going to get stabbed!" You growl. Jungkook leans back a little to look at you. A mix of intrigue and surprise coming together to form a smirk on his face. It's not just from the forceful action you made, but also the confident, ruthless way you spoke to intimidate her.

This woman is dumb though. She either doesn't see or doesn't understand how sincerely you made that threat. "Wow," she scoffs. Yelling, trying to be louder than the music, "Is this your girlfriend? She's a psycho." she mocks, stepping forward, speaking directly to Jungkook. You pull yourself in front of him, dragging his hand around your waist to wrap on your hip, your fingers lacing over the top of his. Even with you standing between them, eyes burning with hostility she still doesn't back down. "If you want a cool girlfriend, you can come home with me, baby." She propositions him, with the cherry on top of calling him baby. Calling your Kookie baby! Who the fuck does this bitch think she is?!

You snap forward and slam your curled up fist into her face as hard as you can. She mustn't have been expecting that at all because she falls like a ton of bricks. Knocking into two or three other people behind her before she ultimately falls on to the floor.

Honestly, you've never hit someone before, and you didn't realize it would hurt so much. So you have to quickly shake your hand feeling the bones bruised and jarred. You regain your composure by the time she can gain hers and looks back up to you. You step over the top of her getting into her personal space. "Go find someone else to be a pathetic whore with." You snap. "He's mine!"

She scrambles out from under you and back to her feet, sensibly darting away. Over your shoulder, you can see Jungkook taking control of the consequences of your interaction, assuaging the bartender's concerns. JK knows them all, so if they know that it's him, they're not going to make a fuss over it, they'll just let it go and assume there was a good reason.

You latch onto him again as he focuses back on you. Grabbing your hands into his shirt, you hold him closer. "Don't let other girls touch you."  You whine, taking the aggression out of your voice when you talk with him, but not the seriousness.

"Why? Because I'm yours?" He looks down with a smug smile, and a salacious glimmer in his gaze. His tongue running over the inside of his cheek.

You're still so pent up and frustrated, you just want to be as close to him as you can be for comfort. You press your whole body flat to him, feeling warmed by the firm shape of his arms and chest. "Yes, you're mine."

He insists on a small amount of space between you two, gripping onto your upper arms harshly he pushes you back. His free hand comes up and his fingers cling into your jaw keeping you still.

This is it. You knew he was going to hurt you for disobeying. But honestly, it was worth it to keep her off of him.

Looking down at you so intensely, he isn't reacting the way you had expected. His eyes are instead filled with an infatuated allure that's making your stomach tingle and your cheeks feel warm. He rests his mouth next to your ear like he had earlier. "That was so fucking hot Kitten." His teeth nip at your ear lobe, making you shiver. "We're leaving. Just wait until I get you alone. I'm gonna prove I'm yours."   

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :( 

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong. 

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D. 

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

 He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry. 

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere? 

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him. 

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today. 

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine. 

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT! 

[acris-kerd]

For the @sidlinkgiftexchange !! My giftee was @the-puny-pichu !

“Link, that looks revolting.”

Sidon leaned away from the dubious concoction his companion had pulled from his shiekah slate, meeting the Hylian’s doe eyed stare with barely concealed nausea.

Link looked down at the bowl of teeth soup in his hands. Teeth soup.

“…Yeah. It tastes about as good as it looks.”

He stared at it for a moment more and then shrugged, tossing the foul dish into the fire before them. Sidon flinched as the flames cracked and glowed a sickly green before consuming the foul fuel. Link had already moved on to the next entree of stored food in his slate, this time pulling out a cake.

“The variety of dishes in your possession is both amusing and alarming.” Sidon observed, squinting at the slice Link shared with him as though looking for hidden molars or perhaps a bit of moblin guts.

He’d seen the offensive concoctions Link cooked up now. Nothing was safe.

Link shrugged again, inhaling the food.

“I usually cook with what I have. Sometimes I have a lot, sometimes I don’t.”

“I see…and what happens to be the status of your inventory tonight, then?”

Sidon tried to hide the nervousness in his voice. Link pulled out another dish of food, the delectable smell of braised fish paring well with his broad grin.

“A lot.”

The odd pair settled into a warm, summer night. They did this now and again, when Link decided the strange slate on his hip was stuffed with as much as it could carry.. Sidon had long assumed whatever hoarding tendencies Link possessed had been grossly enabled by the sheikah technology, but he wasn’t one to complain. Especially when it meant spending time with Link.

“Here. I found a bunch of silverscale spears and some Zora swords.”

He proceeded to unload a small armory on the ground beside Sidon, who started waving his hands frantically.

“Link! Good gracious, my friend, thank you, but I can’t carry all of this back to the domain myself!”

“Oh,” The little Hylian looked at the half-materialized hilt in his hand, shoving it back into the nether regions of whatever void was contained on his hip. “Good point. I’ll just drop it off with Bazz before I head out.”

Sidon smiled weakly, shaking his head.

“I don’t know how or where you find all of these weapons…I think it’s fair to say half our army is supplied by you alone.”

“Nah,” Link laughed bashfully, throwing another dubious concoction into the fire. The flames turned purple this time. “I just collect a lot of things. No sense in keeping it if I don’t use it.”

“Oh? Are Zora weapons not up to your standards then?” Sidon raised a brow, privately enjoying the fluster that washed over Link’s expression.

“Wha-No! No, it’s not that! I mean—I just have a lot of weapons and—“

Sidon laughed, absently resting an assuaging hand at Link’s back. The champion was so small he could nearly wrap his clawed fingers around him. The thought did something strange to Sidon’s stomach, but many strange feelings tended to permeate his sensibilities around Link, so he tried to ignore it.

He also ignored the way it seemed Link was leaning into his hand.

“I’m merely giving you a hard time, my friend. I know you travel far and wide, and there are undoubtedly more suitable weapons for your cause.”

He eyed the legendary blue hilt that rested close to Link, the previously lightened sensation in his chest taking a turn. Link had been openly carrying the Master Sword much more frequently as of late. Sidon wasn’t sure what it meant, but it left him nervous. Afraid, even.

Link seemed to sense what he was looking at, not meeting his eyes. They were equally quiet for a long time.

“…I’m going to face him soon. Very soon.” Link finally spoke, his voice weighted and somber.

A cold feeling began to spread through Sidon’s chest. It wasn’t a mystery who—or rather what—Link was talking about. Very suddenly, Sidon wanted to pull Link closer. The temptation was so strong he had to remove his hand from where it rested against his back. Link looked somehow smaller without it there.

“…I suppose you won’t be needing a silverscale spear then.” Sidon attempted to lighten the mood, a weak smile playing at his lips.

Link didn’t react for a moment, staring hard into the fire before relenting with a snort, resuming the task of cleaning out his slate.

“Probably not.”

An owl hooted somewhere overhead. The river nearby rushed quietly in the darkness. Sidon let himself stare at Link, at the lean muscles that had been honed around an abused frame, hardened from experience and trauma. His fingers twitched in his lap, claws ticking together mutely. Link was quite fierce when he wanted to be, determined and resolute in a way that bordered on obsessed. Very little seemed to phase his most treasured friend. Even the prospect of facing Calamity Ganon didn’t seem to shake him, not like it did Sidon.

Every time he thought about his small, wild Hylian facing up against such an ancient evil, he wanted to pull him close and protect him from his own destiny. Sidon was a shamefully selfish Prince, it seemed. At least where Link was concerned.

The larger Zora shifted uneasily on the grass, appreciating the way Link spread the fuel of the fire so the flames stayed low and less stressful to his scales.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, eyeing Sidon with undue concern. That feeling in his chest swelled full once again.

“Of course, my friend. No need to worry. I can easily take a quick dip in the river if necessary.”

“Want to right now?” Link very confidently stood up.

“What—now?” Sidon looked at the surrounding darkness, a little taken aback by Link’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Sure.” Link looked like he’d already decided for the both of them, packing his shield, bow, and the sword that seals the darkness into his slate before pulling off his tunic.

Sidon felt a blush flood his face, trying very hard not to appreciate how the firelight cast the musculature of Link’s body into sharp relief and failing miserably. Without inhibition, Link kicked off his boots and pants, driving home how very serious he was.

“Wait, Link, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Why not? You just said you could take quick dip.”

“Yes, but I’m a Zora. That river is hardly calm and there’s no light out.”

“The moon is out.” Link argued, a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

“That’s hardly sufficient for avoiding underwater currents!” Sidon quickly stood and chased after his stubborn companion, who was already heading for the river.

Link turned around, walking backwards towards the water and wearing an expression that left Sidon gaping like a newly hatched guppy.

“Guess you’ll have to make sure I don’t find any. You wouldn’t let me drown, would you Sidon?”

Thank goodness the depth of night concealed how deeply Sidon was blushing. Link was being especially disarming tonight.

“O-of course not!”

“Then it’s fine. Come on.”

Link waved him closer. The pearly light of the moon cast a gentle glow over his features, brightening his eyes. Against the deep blue surroundings, he stood out like a candle, confident as ever and heedless to any apparent danger. Sidon eyed the swift moving water nervously, looking back to Link’s comparatively tiny body.

This was a bad idea.

Without an ounce of fear, Link walked into the closest current, stumbling slightly and quickly regaining his footing. Sidon splashed in after him, throwing any reservations to the wind and bracing a hand at his back.

“Honestly Link, there are other places—safer places—to swim.” He muttered, eyes scanning the dark waters and zeroing in on a plethora of dangers.

“Then take us there.”

He spoke so simply, as if it was the most logical and reasonable choice in the world, which it was. Sidon couldn’t figure out why he was so flustered with it all. Maybe it was the suddenness of the late night swim. Maybe it was the strange position of having to protect this small, ferocious servant of the Goddess from a mundane death. Maybe it was the fact that it was Link, who’d always had an uncanny knack for throwing off his princely confidence, asking to share a relatively normal experience that for some reason felt anything but normal to Sidon.

“Of course!” He agreed gallantly, hoping he succeeded in hiding the wild swirl of thoughts running rampant in his head.

Link smiled at him, and he felt like a floundering guppy all over again.

Sidon carefully maneuvered them into deeper waters. Link was quickly picked up by the current, holding tight to Sidon’s arm and then sliding himself against his back. It was almost reminiscent of when they took on Vah Ruta together, but without the pressure of a cataclysmic flood weighing them down. The closeness this time seemed much more…intimate.

Perhaps Sidon was just over thinking things. Muzu often said he tended to over think things.

“Ready when you are.” Link spoke into his ear, his voice perfectly calm.

Sidon worked really hard to hide the electric shiver that raced to the farthest end of his dorsal fin, rapidly making himself think of the nearest and safest destination.

“Ah, right! Hold tight then!”

Link most certainly did hold tight, which was good, because Sidon knew the Hylian wasn’t exactly the strongest swimmer. He carefully kept them away from more dangerous rapids, following the river downstream to a small backwater pool he used to visit as a child. It wasn’t particularly deep, by his own standards, but had served as an excellent retreat during his lonely adolescence. It was a place he knew Link would be perfectly safe, no matter how unpredictable he apparently aimed to be.

“Almost there!” Sidon called, feeling Link give him a firm squeeze in response.

The water was already noticeably calmer as he took a nearly hidden channel that branched off the main river. It led to a wide pool with a thick bank of overgrowth. There was hardly anywhere comfortable for a Hylian to sit, but it couldn’t be helped. At least there wasn’t a deadly current.

“This is nice.” Link observed, craning his neck to take in all the details.

The moon shone directly above, highlighting a heavy knot work of local grapevines that had rooted in the silt. They draped across most of the surrounding trees, thick with age. A few boulders broke up the tree growth, heavy with moss and various mushrooms. Sidon caught Link eyeing them with keen interest, though he made no move to collect them.

“I used to come here in my younger days.” Sidon revealed, feeling a touch nostalgic now that he was in the once familiar pool. “It was a good place to escape Muzu…or anything else that happened to be upsetting me.”

Neither of them needed to voice what it was that likely pushed Sidon to seek such solitude. With Link’s help, the grief of his dear sister had been laid to rest, and Sidon reflected, as he observed new chains of vine growth and unfamiliar carpets of moss, that he’d outgrown the solitude of this place as well. It was a strange feeling, to feel the ache of both nostalgia and loss and still be okay.

Link silently slipped off his back, using Sidon’s larger body as an anchoring point to pull himself around front. He had a careful expression on his face, one that turned into a soft smile as he observed Sidon’s comforted ease.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” He said quietly, and he was close, much closer than Sidon realized.

A breath of space was held between them for an impossibly long moment. Link’s gentle face took up Sidon’s field of vision,lips quirked into a small smile and eyes full of a chaotic mixture. There was the firmness of resolve and a shadow of something more harrowing, but above all, tender warmth emanated from twin blue pools. It was like staring at a midsummer sky.

“Sidon.” Link spoke his name quietly, and with an uncommon reverence.

The sound of it put a blush back on the Zora Prince’s face. It must have been dark enough for Link to see it, even in the poor light, because his smile broadened slightly. He stared directly into Sidon’s wide eyes, holding his shoulders with such small, powerful hands, his knees bumping lightly against his chest under the water.

Then Link kissed him.

He kissed him selfishly, indulgently, taking advantage of Sidon’s frozen state and even placing those small, powerful hands against his face. It was a touch that felt like desperation. Through the shock of it all and with a horrible flip in his gut, Sidon realized Link was kissing him like it was goodbye.

When the Hero pulled away, he wasted no time to speak, the previous tenderness in his expression extinguished as if he’d given all of his warmth to Sidon.

“I’m going to face the calamity tomorrow.” He spoke softly, too softly for such devastating news, and the flip in Sidon’s gut turned into a punch. “I probably wont survive. I barely survived the first time. …So I guess there’s no need to worry about this making things awkward between us.”

A hundred years worth of emotions were blowing through Sidon with the force of a hurricane. For once, he had so much to say, so many different feelings that wanted to pour forth, that he had no idea how to formulate any of them. They all demanded near equal attention.

Except for one.

“Please come back.” He whispered, eyes wide with fear, heartbreak, and something entirely too close to love. “Link, please come back.”

Link stared with a slow blooming shock, the previously dead expression washing away with each passing second that made clear the seriousness of Sidon’s request. His eyes progressively opened wide, betraying a rare vulnerability, and his mouth hung slightly agape. Sidon soon realized he was clutching at Link’s hips with the same ferocity that Link held his face.

“You have to come back.” He whispered again, feeling like an idiot who couldn’t string together the words to say much else.

“…You…you want me to come back?” Link breathed out, looking like he hardly dared believe it.

Sidon felt his brain short circuit again.

“Do I want you to-?! Yes! Yes, I want you to come back! I always want you to come back!”

“Always?” Link quirked his lips into an adorable half-smile. Sidon could decide if he wanted to kiss him again or smack him.

“Do you realize the highlight of my life right now is waiting for you to walk through the Ne’ez Yohma shrine so I can watch you throw dubious food into a fire?”

Link’s smile widened with every word, all of the shadows leaving even the darkest corners of his face.

“That’s the highlight, huh?”

Sidon was going to say something about Link being a smart ass, but then his brain caught up with all that was happening. Link had kissed him. And he was going to fight Calamity Ganon in a matter of hours. For the life of him, Sidon couldn’t decide which event shocked him more.

“Come here.” Sidon whispered, and he pulled Link into a second, much less fatalistic kiss.

It was Link’s turn to startle with surprise. Sidon held nothing back, moved by Link’s brazen selfishness to take some of his own. He pulled Link closer, tracing a hand up the smooth expanse of his back and feeling him tremble. Link gasped, opening his mouth and allowing them to explore each other more deeply. This kiss did not feel like a goodbye. This kiss was quite clearly the start of something with absolute longevity, Calamity be damned.

“Please say you’ll come back.” Sidon whispered against Link’s mouth.

Link didn’t speak, but he nodded all the same, pulling Sidon back in for a kiss that felt like hope and a promise all wrapped into one.

[deceasedanddesist]

stuck in detention ( james potter )

this is for @ladyvesuvia’s 400 follower writing challenge! although she has 700 now :)

pairing: james potter x ravenclaw!reader

gender neutral!reader: if you see any mistakes let me know and i’ll fix it

warnings: none

notes: if you saw this when i accidentally posted it unfinished….. no you didn’t. also this is unedited and i wrote it on my phone so my grammar is going to be shit.

word count:

heres the thing;

you never actually meant to get detention, you swore to merlin himself that breaking your boyfriends ( who, conveniently, is now your ex boyfriend ) nose was a completely an accident. 

it seems as though saying your “hand slipped” didn’t really sell it to professor flitwick, and to ashton davies, who now has an undeserved vendetta against you. 

so what? in case he forgot, he was the one who cheated on you, and didn’t even seem the tiniest bit remorseful about it! but it didn't bother you, if anything, you knew it was coming. after months of him telling you how you were too intense, and making you suppress your personality because it was “too suffocating for him to be around”. you just got so sick of it, rightfully bloody so in your opinion. but because professor flitwick didn’t agree, you were stuck in detention during the first quidditch game of the year! your team, out on the pitch, without their captain, against gryffindor of all houses.

curse james potter and his stunningly good training regimen, you figured he was basking in the glory of not having to deal with you. he’s probably gloating to his team right now, and you could picture the frustratingly fit face that is going to be haunting your brain after ravenclaw looses.

its not that you are not confident in your team, because, you were very proud of their progress and you were very sure they are capable of kicking gryffindors arse. but at the end of the day, at team is like a puzzle, if one piece is missing, there is no way for it to become cohesive. and without their team captain, you really couldn’t predict the fate of your team.

thats why, you were in a pretty glum mood on your way to the library. you figured flitwick took pity on you when he gave you library duty, after all, it probably was the only thing he could see you enjoy doing for detention. not that you were always reading or something, that was the most hated stereotype among most ravenclaws. most of you guys don’t even read, but you can find a certain kind of solace in a good book that you don’t get with anything else.

walking in, you greeted madam pince with a small smile before continuing to the back where you knew a giant stack of books were waiting for you to organize.

as you made your way through the shelves, you heard a loud yelp, but when you looked back at madam pince she was just staring at you with a watchful eye.

you cautiously continued, but you speed up into a jog when a groan followed. you whipped around the corner to come face to face with james potter himself, flailing his limbs under a pile of books.

“potter?” you questioned, “you’re supposed to be on the pitch acting like an idiot, why are you doing it here?”

the boy on the floor scoffed in reply, holding his and out to you.

you stared at it awkwardly, brows furrowed.

“mind giving me a hand here, (l/n)?”

“oh!” your hand shot out to help haul his body up, you were pretty much half of his size so you didn’t know why he reached out to you.

“so, what are you in for?” he joked, but looked as if he was expecting an answer, so you gave him one.

“slept in.” you shrugged.

hey, you didn’t say you would tell him the truth!

“i find that hard to believe,” james huffed, “(y/n)(l/n), sleeping in? right before the first quidditch game of your seventh year?”

you wanted to be mad at him, but for as much of an airhead he is, the boy read you like a book. there was no way, rhyme, or reason you would be sleeping instead of going over quidditch plays or berating your team.

perhaps intense was the correct way to describe you after all, and fuck ashton davies for making you realize it after he cheated on you. you honestly wouldn’t of had a problem with it if he had decided to man up and actually break up with you before he slept with someone else.

you must have been lost in your thoughts for a minute, because james was snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“hello? earth to (y/n).”

“sorry. but enough about me,” first you lie, and if that doesn’t work ( it usually does) you evade further questioning. “how did you get in here, don’t act like i’m tougher on my team than you.”

“yeah, we’re both hard-asses.” he agrees, “i accidentally set someones hair on fire in transfiguration.”

you opened your mouth to ask, but ultimately ended up keeping it yourself, james seemed to approve.

“you don’t want to know.” you nodded, and that was that.

you began to pick up the books from the floor and place them back into the boxes that james seemed to have knocked over. they were labeled and you probably would have thought it was fairly easy at first glance, but judging by the amount of boxes and your clumsy detention partner, you estimated it would keep you for at least a few hours, if not the whole day.

after you filled the potions box with the correlating textbooks, you made your way to the designated section of the library. you started to place the books in alphabetical order by author, and just when you placed ‘advanced potion making’ by libatius borage on the shelf, it immediately flung off the shelf and straight into what would have been your face if you hadn’t moved at the last minute.

after you got over the shock of an almost broken nose ( which you found very ironic ), your head whipped around to a very shocked james at the end of the isle you were standing in.

he visibly got paler once the realization of what happened set in, but before you could confront him, he had set of into a run.

so, you did what any sensible and composed person would do, and you chased after him.

although he has longer legs, your endurance was unmatched. and this was proven when he started to slow down after five minutes, but without realizing you were right on his tail, he stopped. you sucked in a breath to brace yourself before you collided with him, and the next thing you knew the both of you were toppling to the floor.

james groaned as you rolled off of his chest and onto the floor beside him as madam pince rushed over to find out where the commotion was coming from.

“its actually surprisingly clean down here.” you noted as madam pince stared down at you and james with upmost displeasure.

she muttered something along the lines of “why did i take this job” and “i hate children” as she walked back to her desk, still shaking her head.

james waited until she was out of sight before bursting out into laughter.

““its actually surprisingly clean down here”? really?” the boy was practically crying now, a great contradiction to your pure confusion. you had never made someone laugh like this before, your friends only ever giggling out of pity at your odd observations.

when his fit was over, he cocked his head at you and made a face. albeit, you were probably looking at him weird, but who wouldn’t be. you only ever knew him as an opponent, as the two of you shared the same position in quidditch. chasers were a pertinent part of the game, and you and james potter were both the only second years accepted onto the house teams. it made you wonder if you were just imagining all of competitiveness, and now, in the midst of your very last year, just realizing it.

“what?” he looked more confused than you at this point, so you decided to let him in on your thought process.

apparently, your mouth had other plans, because what came out of it was “i punched ashton davies in the face.”

“what!” he yelled, resulting in a ‘shhhhhhh’ in reply from pince.

“thats why i’m in detention, i broke his nose.”

to your surprise, he smiled “i knew you didn’t sleep in, you wouldn’t let down your team like that.”

you scoffed, “it doesn’t matter james, i still let them down. i should have controlled my anger.”

he shook his head, “look, i don’t know much about you, but i do know you’re a reasonable person.” you sighed, so he continued, “let me rephrase: if you broke someones nose, there has to be a good reason, because theres no way you’d miss your last first game.”

“yeah, you’re right.” you said as you got up, brushing yourself off before holding out a hand to him, “he deserved it.”

another laugh from the boy behind you, “i’m sure he did.”

you smiled, checked the time, told james your time was up, and headed back to the front of the library. though, when you guys turned the corner both of you were faced with flitwick and mcgonagall, who told you that fooling around wasn’t to be tolerated and the two of you would be spending your weekend in detention to finish the job.

as you left, you found yourself in the best mood you’ve been in all year, and to your surprise, you found yourself actually some what excited for this weekend’s detention.

[persephone-plasmids]

The Funhouse

Deacon and Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The Funhouse

“I take it finding Danse and MacCready is now our second priority?” Deacon asked as he followed Sole from the junkyard outside of Nuka-World to the Kiddie Kingdom.”Because you know they’re investigating Dry Rock Gulch, right?”

“They’re big boys, they can take care of themselves,” Sole answered dismissively with a wave of her hand. “And I already told you, we’ve got more important things to do.”

“More important than finding the kidnapped Synth?” Deacon asked, a grin on his lips as he trotted to catch up with Sole.

Their hands brushed accidentally as he walked beside her and he quickly pulled away. Deacon was finally starting to learn to keep his physical distance from Sole. He needed as many safeguards from whatever spell she had over him as he could get. The sunglasses were a start, but avoiding their regular casual contact was starting to be a necessity.

Trying to ignore his attraction to Sole had become a losing battle, so Deacon was playing the defense game.

“Obviously nothing is more important than finding the kidnapped Synth,” Sole said. “But there’s no reason they might not be in the funhouse at Kiddie Kingdom.”

Deacon gave Sole a skeptical raise of his eyebrows. “I mean, while we’re at it, the kidnapped synth could very well be on the roller coaster in the Galactic Zone. We should probably check there too.”

“We probably should.” Sole nudged Deacon with her shoulder, giving him a cheeky smile.

He laughed nervously but took a tiny step away from Sole to discourage any further touching. It wasn’t because he didn’t want Sole to touch him. It was because he did.

“Listen, Charmer, I’m all for having a good time, but isn’t this place… kinda creepy?” Deacon asked, glancing at the derelict theme park over the top of his sunglasses.

Sole stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel to face him, the apples of her cheeks round with glee. “Are you scared?” She dragged out the last word in a taunting way, poking her finger into his chest as she said it.

Again with the touching.

He wished he didn’t love it so much.

“Obviously I’m a big strong man. I’m not scared of anything,” Deacon began. “I’m just worried about your poor feminine sensibilities. I’m not sure they can handle this place. Women’s brains just aren’t wired for this sort of thing.”

Sole narrowed her eyes at Deacon, sizing him up. She knew he was joking, but she still took the opportunity to take a step closer to him, her voice low. “I think we both know who the brave one is in this partnership.”

She was much too close to him. He swallowed hard and tried to play off his discomfort with a laugh, but it sounded wrong.

“If you’re so brave then why don’t you go into the funhouse first?” It was a lame dare, but he needed any excuse to get her away from him. All he wanted to do was crush his lips to hers.

“”Watch and learn, stealth boy,” she said, using her favorite nickname for him.

Sole walked confidently through the funhouse doors, swaying her hips as she did so. Deacon hated the way his eyes automatically roamed over her curves when she wasn’t looking, but he couldn’t deny that the view was impeccable.

“Are you coming?” Sole asked over her shoulder.

Deacon gave himself a little shake and ran into the funhouse after her. “You know, if you wanted to die, there are much quicker and less terrifying ways to do that.”

“But where would be the fun in that?” Sole asked, taking Deacon’s hand in hers and leading him through the first set of doors they found.

The two were immediately set off balance by a black and white room with a spinning floor. Sole collapsed into Deacon’s arms, knocking him against the wall as he held her up with his arms around her waist.

His plan to limit their physical contact wasn’t off to a great start.

Carnival music played in the spinning room and when Sole regained her footing, she didn’t pull away from Deacon like he thought she would. Instead, she leaned her weight against him, pushing his back more firmly against the wall.

“Thanks for the assist,” she said, wrinkling her nose up at him in a smile.

Why did she have to be so adorable?

“Any time, Charmer,” he answered, his voice as unsteady as he felt. “You need help getting back on your feet?”

He was trying to get her away from him again. But she didn’t move. Instead, she only leaned against him more firmly with a devilish grin on her angelic features. “I actually like where I am right now.”

Deacon tried as hard as he could to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I can’t say I blame you. I tend to have that effect on women.”

When in doubt, default to joking.

“I spend most of my life breaking hearts. It’s a gift and a curse.”

Sole bit her lip as she looked up at Deacon through her eyelashes. “More gift than curse I’d say.”

Deacon was incredibly grateful for the sunglasses that hid the fact that he was openly staring at Sole’s lips now. They had a cherry tint to them from the lipstick she’d been rationing since leaving the vault. And they looked even fuller when she took her bottom lip between her teeth.

It took Deacon a moment to regain his senses and when he did, he desperately thought of some way he could joke his way out of this. “Just imagine how hard it is for the people who don’t get to see this beauty up close? All they can do is fantasize. But you? You’ve got a front row seat to this walking piece of art.”

“A front row seat?” Sole said with a challenging raise of her eyebrows. “Is this an interactive show?”

The room was still spinning, though Deacon wasn’t sure how much of that was the actual funhouse anymore.

“It could be,” he said.

Why had he said that? He was trying to keep his distance.

Sole let a tiny grin tug at the corner of her mouth as she stared at Deacon in the spinning room. She almost looked like she might pull away from him and at the mere thought, panic rose in his chest.

He didn’t care how complicated it would make things. He didn’t care that he had sworn off personal relationships. He wanted to be close to her.

Without another thought, Deacon pulled Sole tightly against his chest and pressed his lips to hers. She instantly melted into the kiss, moving her lips over his softly at first. Her softness, however, was quickly replaced by more desperate kisses as she pressed herself against him. Sole took a handful of Deacon’s Cappy shirt to pull him closer, even though they were already incredibly close. She tangled her hands in his hair that he’d grown out and dyed dark, just because he knew Sole liked it that way.

She inhaled him as they both moved together, fitting like puzzle pieces. Deacon didn’t even care that the room was still spinning and that there were probably ferals nearby. All he cared about was this moment with Sole. This perfect moment where he was finally taking what he’d wanted for so long.

When Sole moaned into his mouth, he got chills all over his body. He’d thought making Sole laugh would always be his favorite accomplishment, but this sound he’d just elicited from her had just topped the list. It only encouraged him to deepen the kiss, hungrily moving his hands over her hips, across her waist, up her back, and into her hair.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but that was the last thing he cared about right at that moment. He’d happily die like this. Sole continued to kiss him like she’d wanted this as much as he did, even though he had a hard time believing that.

Deacon wasn’t sure they’d ever break apart, until a raspy voice rang out over a scratchy loudspeaker in the room, instantly causing Sole to jump away from him. “While I appreciate the show, I’m usually the one providing the entertainment here.”

Even though Sole had broken the kiss at the sound of the mysterious voice, she still held Deacon close, her arms around his waist.

“Who was that?” she asked in a panic.

He wasn’t sure if she was panicked because some mysterious person  was apparently also in the funhouse with them, or because they’d been caught in a compromising position.

“Just thought we’d be an opening act,” Deacon said to the otherwise empty room. He was trying to play it cool when he was internally losing his mind over the kiss he and Sole had just shared. “What can we expect from the main attraction?”

Deacon kept a protective arm around Sole in the spinning room, his eyes darting all over to try to find the source of the voice.

“I am Oswald the Outrageous, and you two are trespassing in my territory.”

Spotting the loud speaker overhead, Deacon took Sole’s hand in his and pulled her through a nearby red door that led to a hallway full of spinning tunnels. If he hadn’t been dizzy enough from the kiss, this room was sure to do him in.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Deacon began, making sure to speak loudly enough for Oswald to hear him over the hum of machinery in the funhouse. “We were just looking for a friend of ours. Goes by the name of H3-56.”

“You weren’t looking very hard, were you?” Oswald asked, his voice sly and suggestive.

Had Deacon not been worried about how much of a threat this stranger posed, he might have been embarrassed by the man’s words.

“H3-56 wandered into my territory, much like you two did.”

“And did you give him the same warm greeting?” Deacon asked.

“We need to find out where this person is,” Sole whispered to him, her eyes full of concern in the green glow of the hallway.

Deacon nodded in understanding but didn’t respond.

“Turns out H3-56 is a freak like me,” Oswald said. “He understood what it’s like to be cast out by the rest of society… so I let him go.”

Sole gave Deacon a surprised look. “Well, we appreciate your hospitality,” Deacon began. “I guess we don’t need to keep searching. Thanks for doing our job for us. We’ll just be going, but don’t worry, we’ll visit your gift shop on the way out; pick something up for Dez.”

Deacon began walking back towards the spinning room with Sole’s hand in his, but the door instantly slammed in front of them, barricading them in the hallway.

“Not so fast,” Oswald said, his voice full of menace. “I let H3-56 go out of the goodness of my heart because they were a kindred spirit. As far as I can tell, you humans don’t have to deal with the same hardships as Synths and Ghouls. So I think it’s time we have a little fun.”

Sole inhaled sharply at Oswald’s words. “Listen, we came here to rescue H3-56, not hurt him. We’re sympathetic to Synths and Ghouls alike. One of my best friends, the mayor of Goodneighbor, is a Ghoul.”

“Oh, I see,” Oswald said. “So because you have one Ghoul friend, you’re sympathetic to my kind?” His voice sounded incredulous now.

“I’m not trying to say--.”

“Tell me, Vault Dweller, do you kill Ghouls out in the wasteland with that fancy gun of yours?”

Sole looked down at her holstered gun with a furrowed brow. “Only when they’re feral and I don’t have a choice.”

Deacon could see the regret in her eyes as she spoke. He knew Sole didn’t particularly like killing, even when someone deserved it. It was something she’d held onto from her pre-war days. Maybe because she’d seen the effect it had had on her former husband when he was in the military. Maybe just because she was a compassionate person. But the fact that this stranger was accusing her of being a heartless killer when Deacon knew she was anything but, set his teeth on edge.

“Listen, drama queen, Sole doesn’t need to defend her actions to you. Now either you let us go, or you can step out from behind your wall of protection and we can handle this one on one.”

“I think you’re forgetting about the third option,” Oswald said, his voice now much happier than it had been only a moment before; almost manic. “The one where I show you that anyone is capable of being a monster. Even your sweetheart.”

Deacon didn’t have time to ask what Oswald meant before the hallway filled with green noxious fumes. He let go of Sole’s hand to cover his mouth. At first he worried that it might be aerosol radiation, but the sweet smell of the gas only gave him a headache.

“HalluciGen?” he asked, coughing slightly as the gas continued to fill the room.

Deacon looked over to Sole to make sure she was okay but the look he saw in her eyes terrified him. Her wide green eyes were darting around the room in pure abject horror.

“Sole?” Deacon asked, stepping closer to her. But the second he moved towards her, she lunged at him, her hands finding his throat and squeezing tight. “Sole!” Deacon choked out, trying to wedge his fingers under her surprisingly strong, nimble grip.

“Amazing, isn’t it? What the HalluciGen gas can do to ‘good’ people.”

“Sole,” Deacon choked again, trying desperately to pry her fingers away from his throat.

Her eyes were crazed and watery and she tightened her grip on him. And while he had been reveling in their close contact only a moment before, this wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind.

“Sole, you have to let go,” he choked. “I’m on your side… always have been.”

At the familiar words he’d said to Sole a million times before, her grip loosened ever so slightly. Her brows were still knitted together in confusion and terror, but the moment of clarity was enough for Deacon to forcefully pull her hands away from his throat and pin them to her sides.

Sole almost immediately began fighting back against him again, trying to break free from his grasp. Deacon wrapped his arms around her middle, sure to keep her arms pinned in place as he lifted her off the ground and unceremoniously carried her to the opposite end of the hallway, where a door stood open, leading back out to the lobby.

Once they were away from the green HalluciGen gas, Sole’s fighting grew weaker. She still struggled against Deacon’s grip, but her heart wasn’t in it. Instead he held her tightly while she whimpered, her eyes opening and closing rapidly as she came back to herself.

“You back with me, Charmer?” Deacon asked. “Or are you still going to try to pop my head off with those tiny little hands of yours?”

Sole’s eyes met Deacon’s behind his sunglasses as she blinked a few more times. “Deacon?”

“There she is,” he said, his smile returning. “You must really be into some weird stuff in the bedroom,” Deacon joked.

“Deacon,” she warned, her voice low.

“No, I mean it. I enjoyed our kiss too, but that escalated quickly.” He puckered his lips at her as he smiled.

“It’s not funny,” she said. “I… I couldn’t tell it was you. I couldn’t even tell what I was doing. I just knew I was trapped and needed to get away.”

Deacon’s face fell at her words. Maybe joking wasn’t always the best default. “You’re safe now,” he said.

“Is she, though?” Oswald asked, though now his voice sounded clear; unchanged by the static of a loudspeaker.

Sole and Deacon turned to find the Ghoul standing near the entrance to the funhouse in all his dramatic glory.

His scarred skin glowed green between the cracks, only making his suit and top hot that much more impressive.

“Pleased to meet you both,” the Ghoul said with a deep bow and a grin.

Deacon didn’t know whether he should be furious at the Ghoul or impressed by his showmanship.

“Dude, I appreciate a dramatic entrance as much as the next egotistical narcissist, but you could have really caused some damage in there,” Deacon said. “Also, I totally love your hat and want to know where I can get one as soon as we sort all this out.”

Sole hit Deacon on the arm, but he simply looked over at her and shrugged.

“It’s a killer hat,” he said.

“I feel like my reception of you was more than fair, given that you trespassed in my territory in order to hurt a Synth,” Oswald said, his voice much more impressive in person.

It had a dramatic quality that reminded Deacon of the old Silver Shroud radio show.

“I already told you, we were trying to save the Synth,” Sole said, her voice heavy with annoyance. “We thought he’d been kidnapped.”

Oswald regarded them for a long moment, his green glowing eyes moving between the two. “I don’t suppose…” his words trailed off as he screwed his face up in concentration. “Do you have a geiger counter?”

At his words, Sole’s face lit up. “Mine’s in the shop,” she responded.

The instant those two sentences were spoken, the tension in the room seemed to melt away.

“H3-56 told me to use that phrase if someone came looking for him,” Oswald said. “He told me it would help me know who was a friend and who was an enemy.”

“He was right,” Deacon said. “Although I wish you would have used the phrase before you tried to poison us with your Hallucigen gas.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Oswald said. “It wouldn’t poison you. It would just make you two kill each other.”

Oswald waved his hand as if this were an important distinction.

“Why didn’t it make Deacon go crazy?” Sole asked, looking over at the spy in confusion.

“Extensive Railroad training,” Deacon said. And when Sole gave him a look like he was joking around with her again he pressed on. “I’m actually serious this time. After Dez and I found the HalluciGen Inc. lab, we knew this stuff would be dangerous if it got into the wrong hands.” Deacon gave Oswald an accusatory look as he said this.

The Ghoul just shrugged in an unconcerned way.

“Dez had the field agents work to build up an immunity to it,” Deacon went on. “It’s not easy to do, but it’s not impossible.”

Sole gave Deacon a guilty look at his words. “So you were totally lucid while I tried to kill you?”

“Like I said, if that’s the kind of thing you’re into, I’m not going to shame you. I’m an open-minded guy.” He gave Sole a grin that made her cheeks turn a dark shade of red.

He loved that he could make her blush.

“Okay, well this mission has been sufficiently awkward,” Sole said, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked over at Oswald. “Thank you for… not killing us… I guess.”

“My pleasure,” Oswald said with another deep bow.

“And thanks for the intel on the Synth. I’m happy he was able to get out of the Commonwealth safely.” Sole gave Oswald a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Deacon? You ready to go find Danse and MacCready?”

“Sure thing, boss” Deacon said, giving Oswald a nod.

Sole began walking towards the exit of the funhouse, careful to avoid Oswald’s eyes as she walked. When Deacon followed her, he stopped just short of the door and turned to the Ghoul with a grin.

“Okay, but seriously, where did you get that hat?”

[Part 5]

[musings-from-mars]

@pollinationweek 2021: Day 1 - Band AU

They had been stranded here on the side of the road for a while now, and Ruby was not handling the fact that their van was seemingly broken down well, all while they were still hours away from their gig. “What do we do?” She asked for perhaps the twentieth time as she paced, her boots thump-thumping against the asphalt.

“We buy a new van,” Weiss grumbled, content with just staring at her girlfriend’s butt as Yang draped herself over the front of the van to check under the hood.

“About a week too late with that idea,” Blake said, also content with staring at Yang’s butt.

“Hey now,” Yang’s voice echoed from inside the van’s inner workings, her feet kicking up behind her. Her jeans were getting caught on the metal, revealing the top few inches of her plaid boxer shorts. So attractive… “I can fix this, don’t worry. I know Big Berty inside and out.”

Big Berty was an early-2000s era transit van with two hundred thousand miles on the odometer and a chipping coat of black paint. It was practically held together by Yang’s very hopes and dreams, and a liberal amount of duct tape.

“Yang, we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Weiss said as she stepped closer, glanced down into the van skeptically, diligently avoiding getting any van dirt on her white runners jacket. “Unless you can do magic, we’re not getting anywhere. We should just call a tow truck.”

“How much will that cost,” Blake asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Weiss assured her, alluding to her ability to still access her rich family’s fortune despite being disinherited. It would require a couple calls to a sympathetic butler and a particularly tech-savvy groundskeeper at her family’s manor, but she could acquire funds in an emergency.

“Okay, but how long is it going to take?” Blake added, pulling out her phone. “Because wherever we are, it’s nowhere close to a cell tower, so I don’t think a tow trunk is nearby either.”

“Ye of such little faith,” Yang said, then she tried to shift her position, yelped with pain, fell backwards and bumped the top of her head on the hood of the van. “Fuck!”

Weiss was the one closest by and caught Yang in her arms. “Careful, you dunce!”

Yang gritted her teeth as she rubbed her head with her hand. Then she sighed as she looked at Weiss, their faces close. “Heheh…okay, I’ll admit it. I think Big Berty is taking an impromptu sabbatical.”

“You mean it finally clunked out and we can get a new van?” Blake asked hopefully.

“I didn’t say that!” Yang said defensively, then stared at Weiss a little more. She sniffed and started to feign tears. “Don’t make me give up my Big Berty Baby, Weiss.”

“Someone catch her, I’m about to drop her,” Weiss deadpanned.

Blake volunteered to assume Yang cradling duties as Weiss sighed dramatically and turned to Ruby. “Hey, we’ll be fine. This is why we leave for long trips a day early, remember?”

“But it’s almost nightfall,” Ruby said, looking up at the orange dusk. “Even if we make it in time, we’ll have so little sleep. Gods, this is gonna suck, we’re gonna suck, I’m gonna suck…”

Weiss stepped closer, taking Ruby by the shoulders. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.”

Ruby’s cheeks turned a faint pink, but she shook her head. “I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Weiss looked to the side and pressed her lips together. She remembered the last time they’d had a mishap. It wasn’t a big performance, just a local set at a club back home. But a combination of equipment mishaps, some rowdy club goers, and Ruby being on two hours of sleep at best made for a rough night. “This will be different, Ruby,” Weiss assured her. “We’re far better prepared now. We’ve got this.” She punctuated her point by leaning forward and giving her a light kiss. “Now come sit down while Blake calls the tow truck.”

“I just said I don’t have service,” Blake called while slowly lowering Yang to the ground since their drummer seemed to refuse to stand up.

Weiss pulled her phone from her pocket and threw it to Blake with a tremendous amount of trust that she would catch it. “I have service.”

Blake caught the phone with one hand and looked at her phone. “Full bars? How?”

Weiss didn’t answer, instead turning back to Ruby, who was calmer and more flushed-faced now. “Come sit on the tailgate with me. Maybe if you play something for fun that might help you settle a little more?”

Ruby’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, but she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

While Blake called a towing company, Yang stayed on the asphalt for a little floor time, and Weiss and Ruby sat on the back of the van. Ruby had her acoustic guitar in her lap, strumming random tunes and chords as Weiss sat with her, her head on her shoulder. She chuckled as she listened to Ruby play. “You know what would be funny?”

“Hmm?” Ruby turned her head toward Weiss, pausing her playing to listen.

“What if we recorded a song right here? Like, on our future album or something, just out in the middle of nowhere?”

Ruby blinked and looked where she was looking. Besides the road, there was nothing but grass and trees as far as the eye could see. “It is pretty quiet,” Ruby agreed.

“Once we hit it big time, you know?” Weiss continued. “It would be a cool way to remember moments like this, just us in Yang’s shitty van. But hopefully by that time, we’ll have a bus or something.”

“Aww, but then we wouldn’t have to sleep in a pile like we do in the back of the van,” Ruby said with a giggle.

“Says who?” Weiss joked, smiling and kissing Ruby’s cheek. Ruby smiled and leaned against her, then returned to strumming on her guitar, playing a few chords from one of their songs that sounded a bit odd on acoustic, but was nice to listen to either way. Weiss even joined in and sang softly, though it was nowhere near her performance level register, like a soft lullaby. By now, Ruby’s worries about arriving on time had faded. Sitting here while Weiss sang was just fine with her.

Soon, Blake rounded the back of the van and sighed. “Tow truck is coming, should be about an hour-and-a-half.”

“That long?” Ruby asked as she stopped playing abruptly. Weiss sat upright as she looked up at Blake.

“We really are in the middle of nowhere,” Blake said, taking Weiss’ phone from her button-up flannel’s breast pocket and handing it back to her. “I also called the hotel and told them we’d be in late.”

“Should we…cancel the hotel to pay for the tow truck?” Ruby asked like it pained her to say. She set her guitar aside and hopped to the gravel ground, straightening her plaid skirt.

“I told you, I’ve got it handled,” Weiss assured her.

“Sorry, I’m just…” Ruby took a deep breath. “I’m anxious about us missing our gig, or running out of money…”

“Yang,” Blake called out, cupping her mouth with her hand. “Stop taking a road nap and come comfort your sister.”

A few seconds later came the thump thump thump of Yang’s boots, followed by her capturing Ruby in a hug. “Don’t worry sis, it’ll be alright!”

“Egh…loosen up…” Ruby grunted as Yang proceeded to lift her up and crush her rib cage.

“Whoop, my bad.” She gently placed Ruby down and patted her head. “But seriously, though, we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the only gig we have lined up, we have savings, we have, erm, a rich girl.” She gestured at Weiss, who rolled her eyes at her. “We’re good, okay?”

Ruby sighed and looked down, shuffling her feet on the gravel shoulder of the road. “I guess you’re right. I just worry too much…”

Blake stepped up and hugged her from behind. “Hey, while we wait, what do you say we put on some music, raid our snack stash and have a chill sesh until the tow truck arrives?”

Ruby smiled and leaned back into Blake’s arms. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Yang grinned and pulled Weiss into a rough side hug. “Yeah, let’s have a chill sesh!”

Weiss grunted and tried shove herself away from Yang. “No sesh is chill if you’re involved, and you smell like the inside of Berty.”

“Aww come on, you love me,” Yang said as her strength overcame Weiss and pulled her into a proper hug.

“That’s irrelevant!” She claimed feebly, failing to hide the smile that was overtaking her face.

Blake hummed with amusement, then kissed the top of Ruby’s head. “How bout you pick that guitar back up. Maybe that’ll calm them down.”

“You think so?” Ruby asked with a giggle, watching as Weiss still flailed in Yang’s embrace.

“Worth a shot.”

~~~

An hour later, Weiss had fallen asleep in Yang’s arms. The two had laid down in the back of the van on the mattress, and after Weiss got through with her complaining and Yang had pared back her teasing, they’d settled into a close cuddling position and were asleep soon after. Ruby’s soft playing probably helped, as did the gentle breeze that had begun to blow through. The sun was almost set by now, bathing the sky in a deep graying blue.

Blake sat behind Ruby, holding her around the waist she she played with her legs to the sides. She was playing a slow, light tune, low in pitch and a careful rhythm that came and went like a tree swaying in the wind. Blake had said it many times to her before and Ruby never believed her, but Ruby really was the best guitar player Blake had ever met. Even while casually playing while stranded on the side of a road, her music was masterful. Blake felt so lucky to just get to hear it. “I love you,” she whispered.

Ruby hummed and smiled, continuing to play as she spoke, “I love you, too.”

“Thank you,” Blake said, kissing Ruby just above the temple.

Ruby chuckled quietly. “For what?”

“I mean,” Blake said as she began to reminisce. “You’re kinda the reason this is all real. If you hadn’t been crazy enough to convince us all to abandon our sensible career choices and form a rock band, I never would have gotten the chance to fall in love with you three.”

“I did kinda ruin all of your lives, huh?” Ruby said with a giggle. Her playing was slowing and getting quieter.

“Hardly,” Blake said, tightening her embrace around Ruby a little. “Because of you, Weiss got away from her dickhole father, Yang escaped the fate of becoming some bored shop mechanic, and I, well…I’d be in a shitty apartment doing nothing.”

“You’d still be writing,” Ruby pointed out.

“Maybe. ADHD doesn’t do well without motivating factors,” Blake said and Ruby nodded knowingly. “This band, though? My girls? That’s all the motivation I need. I’ve never been this happy.”

Ruby smiled, now no longer playing, her hands frozen in playing position. She didn’t realize she had stopped. “We wouldn’t even get to be stranded here in who-knows-where if not for me, huh?”

Blake giggled and kissed her head again. “Exactly.”

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the wind blow. It was properly nighttime now, stars dotting the sky.

Ruby yawned, finally setting her guitar aside. “Honestly…I’d be okay just sleeping here tonight.”

Blake hummed, turning her girlfriend so she could cradle her sideways in her lap. “Sounds inviting. But a hotel room with a bathroom sounds even more inviting.”

Ruby shuddered. “Don’t say that, I’m trying not to think about needing to use one of those bushes for cover.”

Blake snorted, looking down at Ruby’s face. “You’re such a dork.” She leaned down and kissed her softly, cupping the back of Ruby’s head with her hand. Ruby hummed into the kiss, then placed a hand on Blake’s shoulder and pushed. Blake slowly leaned back until she was lying on the mattress as well, with Ruby parting from the kiss and adjusting to lie on her chest.

“So you’re really happy?” Ruby whispered, her hand resting in the center of Blake’s chest with Blake covering it with her own, she stared up at the Edison bulbs they had strung along the upper trim of the van’s interior, bathing them in warm light.

“Ruby, being in this band is a dream come true. Being in this polycule is a dream come true. Hell, being here right now is like a dream,” she smiled and tugged Ruby a little closer. “I’m more than happy.”

Ruby snickered. “Sappy.”

“I know.” She turned her head to look towards her other two girlfriends, Yang on her side and facing towards them, face partially obstructed by blonde hair, with Weiss held close to her chest, the girl’s back to Blake and Ruby and her face tucked against Yang’s shirt. For a pair who loved to bicker, they sure knew how to cuddle.

Ruby noticed Blake staring and smiled. “I’m happy, too. To get to do something like this with my sister and our girlfriends, I just…” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Dream come true, like you said.”

“Sappy,” Blake teased.

“You started it,” Ruby joked, tucking her nose closer to Blake.

They faded into a natural silence, and soon, Ruby was asleep on Blake’s chest. Blake figured she’d try to stay awake so she’d notice the tow truck arrive, but no way was she moving from this spot until then. The music, the performances, the travel was all fulfilling and exciting, but these moments with her girlfriends were what made it all truly worth it.

Even if Yang was kind of a snorer. And Ruby was kind of a drooler. And Weiss was…Weiss. They were her girls. She loved them with every inch of her sappy heart.

[vecnawrites]

Saphron knows that her brother has been participating in NNN, but she is really looking forward to having another child. So, she sets up Jaune to be locked in the se Room her Wife, Terra, is changing in, hoping for the Arc need to breed will be stronger than his will.

(Accidentally changed something and didn’t notice until it was done! Sorry, hope you still like it!)

Saphron loved her son Adrian, and kenw that she and Terra were in a financially stable enough position to have another baby, a sibling for their baby boy. She knew that she wanted this baby to be Terra’s as well, her core flooding with warmth at the memory of watching Terra’s belly swell, her breasts fill with milk...she squirmed in her seat, feeling her now slick panties pulling away from her core.

There was no problems on Terra’s end, either. She was more than happy to get pregnant again, and she was ovulating now, so her womb would be perfectly receptive to any sperm introduced. All they needed was the ‘donor’...who was on his way...but also didn’t know. That was the one issue.

Both women wanted Jaune to donate again, like he had done for Adrian, but they had heard that he was going through that ‘No Nut November’ thing that guys did. While it was good in one way, with him being so backed up that he would be sure to impregnate her, they couldn’t let him keep going through it. Terra’s fertile time would have passed by the time November was over.

So, the wives plotted and planned, coming up with an idea that both were sure that Jaune would be unable to resist. The plan was in place, the day of attack was set, and all that was left was ensnaring the prey…

Jaune sighed in discomfort as he walked off the train, holding his weekend bag. He was grateful Saphron and Terra had invited him for these few days, even if it was to talk about something. He had seized the chance to leave Beacon for a few days, where the girls were seemingly going out of their way to tease him, his own teammates easily being the worst three offenders.

Their sleepwear had gone from sensible (full t-shirts and sweatpants) to what had to be crop tops and booty shorts. Literally, he saw underboob and ass cheek on a daily basis anymore! It was driving him, and his aching balls, completely and utterly crazy! This weekend would be a great way to relax and unwind…

“Oooofff!” Jaune grunted as he was literally shoved into what he knew to be Saphron and Terra’s bedroom. “And don’t come out until my wife’s good and pregnant!” he heard Saphron yell as the door slammed behind him and clicked shut.

Looking up, Jaune paled, before flushing deeply as he saw his sister-in-law Terra, lying on their bed, naked and laying in a very provocative fashion, palming a breast with one hand and her other hand between her thighs, teasing her folds with slim fingers, spreading the dark lips to tease the pink insides to his view.

The blonde grunted as his cock swelled to full mast within seconds, straining painfully in his pants. He swallowed hard as Terra sat up, firm breasts jiggling slightly as she looked down at him, smiling softly. “Hello Jaune...sorry for the ambush...but we didn’t want you to say no on principle.” she said softly, making the blonde wince.

“We really want another baby…” Terra spread her pussy lips wide, exposing slick pink insides to her stunned brother-in-law. “We wanted you to donate again...it’s the perfect time…” her eyes hooded over as she looked down at his twitching cock. “Get me pregnant again, Jaune...please?”

Jaune didn’t know what happened. One moment he was on the floor, staring up at the naked form of his sister-in-law, then he seemed to blink, and then he was on top of her, just as naked as she was, thrusting hard and fast into her soaking core, Terra’s moans filling his ears as her arms and legs wrapped around him and locked together.

“Yes, yes, yes! Right there! Fuck me harder, Jaune!” the dark haired woman cried out, clenching tightly around the thick cock in her pussy. “Fuck, so thick, so big...fill me up! Every drop in your balls! Make me pregnant! Want your baby!”

Jaune groaned as he emptied himself into Terra’s fertile core, his balls pulsing and jumping, his thick cum filling his sister-in-law in large, heavy bursts. Part of him was slightly upset that he had given in so easily, but the rest was feeling pure relief at the lessened pressure in his balls.

Slowly, he began to move back, only for Terra’s legs to tighten around his waist. “And where do you think you’re going?” he glanced down at hearing Terra’s teasing voice to see her looking up at him playfully. “I know you have so much more than one shot in you...you haven’t cum once since November started, right? I want every drop in those balls in my womb…” Jaune’s cock twitched at her teasing words, and his hips began to move on their own, rocking back and forth in her slick, cum stuffed pussy, intent on filling her until she bloated round from his seed.

In the living room, Saphron smiled smugly as she played with Adrian. She loved it when a plan came together...all that was left was those girls on her brother’s team being blunt about what they wanted!

Jaune Arc:

Status: FAILED

Time Survived: 22 Days

Reason/Method For Failure: Saphron/Terra Wanting Second Baby

[tomhiddlestonfanfic]

Improvising

TITLE: Improvising CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One shot WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Actor Tom PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston/Reader GENRE: Romance sort of INSPIRATION: Hank Williams answers and Loki answers REQUEST: Tom Hiddleston x (non actress) reader where reader is a vlogger who does song covers and has a friend who does interviews, and is able to get a chance to interview Tom, but for some reason was unable to do so on the scheduled date due to some emergency and asked reader to do it,but left questions that reader thinks might be inappropriate to Tom so she improvises and thought of more sensible questions which piqued Tom's interest specially when he finds out of the questions that was prepared for him?

Improvising

You found yourself standing there in the hotel lobby waiting for Tom Hiddleston himself. Your friend, who was supposed to do the interview, got sick and for that reason couldn’t do the interview. So you had gotten called in just over an hour ago, and had no time to prepare. You trusted your friend to have everything ready for the interview, but as you stood there, skimming through the questions, your heart nearly stopped. Was this some sort of a joke? You couldn’t possibly ask him about those kinds of things without sinking through the floor in shame. With a rousing sense of panic, you went through the papers, trying to find the real questions or anything of substance, but you ended up empty handed. You almost felt like crying as you glanced down at your watch, realising that there was only five minutes left until your scheduled meeting. You rummaged through your purse for a pen and a paper and was just about to start writing new questions when the subject of the interview suddenly appeared in the lobby.

“Umm, excuse me mister Hiddleston, are you here for the interview? I mean, of course you are...” you greeted him nervously as he approached you with a warm smile.

“Hi, you must be Riley. Please, feel free to call me Tom,” Tom replied as he shook your hand.

“Actually, Riley is sick, so I’m standing in for her,” you informed him with a shy smile.

“Ah, I see. What’s your name then?” Tom asked with interest as he still held your hand in his.

“[Your name],” you replied.

“Nice to meet you, [your name],” Tom said with a smile

“It’s very nice to meet you too, Tom,” you replied blushingly, feeling a bit strange as you spoke his name so familiarly. “This way,” you added and led him to the room in which the interview was to be held. You both sat down on the chairs in front of the camera as soon as Tom had politely introduced himself to the man behind the camera and the man in control of the microphone hovering over your heads just out of line of sight for the camera.

“Are you ready?” the cameraman asked to which Tom answered ‘yes’ and you answered a truthful ‘not really’.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised flusteredly. “I’m ready.”

“Camera rolling,” the cameraman announced and you could feel yourself grow pale. You nervously glanced down at the papers, but quickly looked away as you struggled not to grimace at the questions on there.

“I’m sitting here with Tom Hiddleston. Welcome to the R and R show, Tom,” you said, grateful that you at least got the name of the show right. At least that was something.

“Thanks for having me,” Tom replied politely.

“The pleasure is all ours,” you said with a smile. “So, Tom… I personally think you really did a great job portraying Hank Williams in I Saw the Light.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Tom said and smiled at you. You couldn’t help but get caught up in his beautiful blue eyes as he looked at you.

“Um… One thing I found particularly interesting in the movie was the moment when Hank said that everybody has a little darkness inside of them, that he showed it to them and they heard it, but they didn’t have to take it home with them. I was wondering if you would like to elaborate what you think Hank Williams’s darkness consisted of,” you said as you mentally cursed your friend for not having come up with better questions herself so you wouldn’t have to improvise like this.

“Interesting question,” Tom commended and touched his chin thoughtfully before answering. “Ehm, as is well-known, Hank struggled with alcohol and drug addiction, and I suppose you could say that it’s a way of how the darkness portrayed itself. But what exactly this darkness consisted of is difficult to say. In the scene you’re referring to, Hank mentions anger, sorrow and shame. But I think it’s more complicated than just that when it comes to Hank. I think there was something in him that was addicted to the darkness and that it somehow felt more real to him than anything else. I think part of his darkness was his very addiction to it. Do I make any sense?”

“I think so...” you replied and decided to elaborate. “The attraction to the darkness itself was part of his darkness. His unwillingness to let go of it made it darker... Like staying in a dark corner of a room instead of coming out into the light.”

“Exactly,” Tom agreed and his face lit up as he looked at you. “It was like Hank felt more comfortable in his dark corner than out in the light. And I think as he went into the vortex of addiction, into the darkness, he couldn’t stay sober for long enough to see clearly, to come out into the light and see how many people actually cared about him.” 

“That’s tragic,” was your instinctive response.

“It is,” Tom agreed.

“Hank Williams isn’t the only character with darkness inside of him that you’ve played... I think you could say that Adam in Only Lovers Left Alive had a bit of darkness inside of him as well. Ehm… would you say that there are any similarities between Adam and Hank?” you asked, trying not to grimace at how far fetched your question felt.

“Interesting question,” Tom said again, causing you to blush. It made you glad to hear that he found your questions interesting, seeing as you got them at the top of your head. “Well, while Adam is obviously fictional and a vampire, I think there are similarities between him and Hank. They are both musicians,” he said grabbing his index finger as he began to count the similarities between the two characters. “They both have a darkness inside of them, like you said yourself,” he told you and grabbed his long finger as well. “They both seem lonely even though they have people around them who care…” he said and grabbed a third finger. “There are probably more things they have in common...”

“Well, how about the differences between Adam and Hank?” you asked.

“Adam is fictional whereas Hank is real. Adam’s a vampire and Hank is human. While Adam had a long life, Hank’s life was tragically short. He died of heart failure at only twenty nine years of age. He was one of those stars that shine brightly but burn out quickly, while Adam is more of a slow burning star,” Tom replied and you found yourself nodding in agreement at his answers.

“Yes... Another character with a long lifespan is the god of mischief himself. Loki. I heard you were working on a Loki TV show, is there anything you could tell us about that?” you asked curiously.

"Well, the series starts right after Loki grabs the tesseract in Avengers: Endgame. It'll be six hours of air time and it will be released on Disney plus in 2021. Sorry I can't tell you much more than that at this point," Tom said. 

"That's alright. So we have six more hours of Loki to look forward to, that's great. How did you feel about revisiting the part? You've been playing him for quite some years now," you wondered. 

"I've been playing him for ten years now and I really enjoyed revisiting the role as Loki. I feel like I know this character now, and the audience knows him. The most exciting aspect of playing him is to present him with new challenges, which change him in different ways," Tom replied, seemingly happy to talk about Loki. 

The cameraman motioned for you to wrap up the interview, leaving you disappointed that your meeting with Tom was already coming to an end.

"I really look forward to seeing what new challenges Loki's up against. Unfortunately it seems our time is up. Thank you so much Tom Hiddleston for coming here and joining us on the R and R show," you said, genuinely grateful to actually meet him in person. 

"Thanks for having me," Tom told you, his smile making your heart skip a beat. 

"Cut," said the cameraman. 

"Thank you for saving me with your interesting answers," you told Tom once the camera was off. 

"Saving you?" he asked surprisedly. "I hardly think you needed saving, you did great with the questions," he commended. 

"You really think so?" you said, feeling relieved as he nodded his head ‘yes’ in response. "Thank you. I was not at all prepared for this, so I had to improvise," you admitted. 

"You improvised? Then you're a natural at this," he praised, seemingly impressed. "Didn't your friend prepare the questions?" 

"In all honesty, her questions were not up to standard. Some were downright dreadful," you said truthfully. 

"Really? Dreadful you say?" he asked interestedly. "Would you let me see her questions?" Tom requested curiously and you reluctantly handed them over to him while blushing, as though you were somehow responsible for them. 

"Oh," he uttered understandingly as he skimmed through the questions about James Bond, Taylor Swift, what type of women he preferred and if he was feeling lonely now that he was single. "Thank you for not asking me about all this," he said with relief and kept reading the questions, grimacing at some and laughing at others.

"If your friend was seriously going to ask me those questions, I'm almost glad she was sick," Tom said jokingly, causing you to laugh. "It not just because I wish to avoid another awkward interview, but because it was a real delight to be interviewed by you." 

"Oh, thank you," you said feeling flattered. "I found it really nice talking to you too." 

“I still have some time left before my next interview, if you would like to grab a cup of coffee,” Tom offered.

“I would love to,” you answered, barely able to contain your excitement.

You continued talking to each other about different kinds of things. This time it was almost as though he was interviewing you, asking about your life. When he found out that you had a vlog where you posted song covers his face lit up. 

"I'll make sure to check it out," he promised and pulled out his phone to write down the name of your vlog. 

When it was time to finally part, Tom added, "feel free to contact me if you want to grab another coffee or something. It was really nice talking to you, [your name]." He handed you a piece of paper with what appeared to be his phone number on it before leaving. You stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Then you smiled to yourself thinking that sometimes improvising really pays off. You had never expected that you would be so glad that your friend had come down with a cold.

[mischiefthedreamerx]

The First Steps

Synopsis: Young Sylvie has kept this secret for far too long and now it's time to tell her Mother whether she is ready or not. Little Sylvie is taking her first small steps in becoming who she feels inside.

A/N: So Sylvie is probably the equivalent to a 10 year old here. It's basically Sylvie coming out as trans and wanting to change her name etc. This is just a simple sweet one shot.

Word Count: 2.2k

- - - - -

Young Sylvie sat herself down in front of her mirror, golden coloured hairbrush in hand brushing her black silky locks. It had now grown a few inches past her shoulders, others had started asking when she was going to get it cut or simply made an innocent statement on its growing length. She liked it this long, though still preferred it to be longer. Sylvie looked down at the piece of jewellery she borrowed from her mother's dressing room. Well she took them without permission but she planned on returning them before her mother noticed...

Firstly she picked up some form of silver circular headpiece with silver metallic leafs around the band. She had also snuck out a silk white shawl. She knew very well that it wasn't right to steal the items but if she returned them without being caught then no harm was done. She traced her fingers over the headpiece before gently placed it above her forehead. Then added the white shawl over her shoulders. Seeing herself in the mirror, she knew she looked ridiculous with it on, especially over her green tunic. She adjusted a few strands of hair around the headpiece. This was one of the ways she could pretend to feel better, to distract herself but this void that was still burning inside her chest.

With a sigh, she slumped her shoulders in defeat.

Though an even worse distraction bombarded her when her brother practically threw himself into her room, the door whacking itself open.

"Thor!" Sylvie shouted in panic, quickly tearing off the headpiece and shawl, shoving them under her bed. Thor stood there, wide eyed.

"Have you heard of a such a thing called privacy?" She ragged.

Thor ignored the question and composed himself, holding a wooden sword in hand. "Well I was going to ask if you'd come out with me and Fandral in the woods but it seems you're rather busy playing... dress up." Thor teased.

"I am not! And besides Father forbid us to go into the woods." She said, desperate to change the subject.

"We won't go far, I promise." Thor smiled.

"Right. Of course." Sylvie returned her gaze to the mirror, hoping this would make Thor realise she did not wish to play with him but he didn't quite understand this hidden message.

"So..are you coming?"

Sylvie grumbled. "No. Go and play with your stupid little sword."

Thor crossed his arms. "Fine I will!" He stuck out his touch and left.

"Careful I don't cut your tongue off in your sleep..." Sylvie muttered to herself in a hushed voice. "Knock next time too!" She yelled. With a careless flicker of a hand, the door slammed shut. A part of Sylvie now regretted not taking up Thor's offer because now she was alone again in her miserable thoughts.

She placed her forehead against the mirror and sighed, clutching the silk shawl in her hands. Her eyes were closed as if praying, waiting for her reflection to magically change when she opened them but still she only saw some sad little 'boy' wishing she was anyone else but herself.

Sylvie then heard the sound of a door handle slowly being turned.

She was prepared this time. "I said knock next time—“

Her mother appeared in the doorway.

"Mother!" Sylvie scrambled, standing herself up. The shawl hiding behind her back.

Her mother cautiously entered the room. "Is everything alright, dear? I heard shouting."

A small sense of relief filled her knowing Thor had not told their mother on the 'borrowed' possessions or better yet her wearing them but her anxiety still held firm.

"Everything is quite alright, Mother." She stuttered, sweat appearing above her brows. Her mother took a few more steps closer.

"Loki, did you really think I would not have noticed." She raised an eyebrow, no anger in her features, only a sense of calmness but her presence still heavily filled the room. Sylvie looked down at the floor and unhid the shawl from behind her back. Sylvie may have been good at being sly but her Mother was proven to be a challenge to trick.

She wasn't sure if she should apologise or explain why she had them in the first place. Or maybe now was the right moment to explain everything.

"Mother, I'm sorry, I.." Her words fell apart.

"I think it's time you and I have a little talk. Shall we?" Her mother walked over to sit on her bed. The door quietly closing by itself. Sylvie sat herself down next to her mother, avoiding her mother's gaze.

"Why did you take those things? I'm not angry. I just wish to understand the reasoning behind this. Perhaps I can help you."

Sylvie nodded. She wasn't ready, but if not now, then when? She knew how she felt, it was explaining it out loud that was the struggle. Was something wrong with her? Was she sick? Or even a way to fix her to stop feeling like this.

Sylvie had succumb to silence, blinking away the tears. Her mother patiently waiting.

"I..I don't feel right." She met her mother's soft blue eyes, she nodded once to encourage Sylvie to continue. She only wished to recoil into herself and disappear.

"I look in the mirror and it hurts, Mother. It hurts." Sylvie turned to look up at her mother, the tears slipping themselves free.

Sylvie fell into the comfort of her mother's warm embrace, a hand wrapped around her. She clung to the fabric of her mother's dress, hoping it would stop the tears.

"Hush, my dear. I'm listening." Frigga whispered, threading her fingers through Sylvie's locks.

"Why does it hurt so much? There is nothing wrong with who you are, Loki." She said, Sylvie only shook her head, pulling herself away.

"No, you don't understand! I don't want—" She rubbed away her tears, taking a deep breath to take control of her steady breathing from the crying. She wasn't close to explaining it. She had once wrote down all the things she felt when she eventually told her parents, scripted it in her head, in front of the mirror and now all of that was useless.

Her mother stayed calm, though Sylvie could tell she was puzzled at the sudden raised voice. "If you could magically become anyone you wish, who would it be?" She asked. The question caught Sylvie of track.

"Anyone?" She asked. Her mother nodded. Sylvie knew a few people she wanted to look like. It was now or never. There might not be another chance like this for awhile. What’s the worse thing that could happen? She knew her family loved her regardless, even despite her being adopted, they never once treated her any differently.

Sylvie jumped off her head and walked towards her book shelf, picking out a book without hesitation. She pressed the book close to her chest, then showing it to her mother.

On the cover was a women with long blonde hair tied in a braid wearing gold and white armour, blue cape flowing behind her. Her arm was held out high holding a glowing light blue sword as she sat on a pegasus mid flight. In her eyes was the fearless look of warrior ready for battle. She was beautiful and power and strong.

It was a fictional story about the main character's journey to becoming a highly respected Valkyrie despite the hardships she went through, being born into a poor family and was looked down upon for how weak she was. Sylvie stood in front of her mother, holding her hands together in anticipation for her response.

Her mother's eyes scanned over the cover. "You wish to be a Valkyrie?" Frigga frowned slightly.

Becoming a Valkyrie was definitely a far away dream, a dream so impossible to reach that it would never become a reality.

"It's more than that." Sylvie replied.

"Loki..." Her mother placed the book down on the bed. "Tell me more. What are you so afraid of, my dear?"

"I'm afraid you'll no longer love me. That you'll think I'm pretending or confused..or..or.."

Her mother stood up and bent down in front of Sylvie to reach her level. "Sweetheart, we could never stop loving you. I trust that you know your own mind. You're a smart and sensible young boy."

Sylvie visible winced as if someone had injured her, chocking out a heavy sob and began to weep. Sylvie promised herself she would not cry, promised she'd be strong. The promises lay broken. She was weak.

"I don't want to be a boy, Mother. I don't want to look like this. I want to be pretty. I feel horrible. I...I feel disgusting." Sylvie held onto her mother for dear life. Frigga embraced her tightly.

"Oh, my dear." Frigga let Sylvie cry into her shoulder until the heavy sobs became only sniffles. Frigga wasn't exactly sure what to make of this sudden turn of events. She knew Sylvie was never like her brother or most young boys for that matter, always more quiet, never fitting in with Thor and his friends. She'd much rather play with her toys or interact with the girls from her classes.

Frigga was always considered wise, knowing what to say when comforting and support others or even explaining the complexity of different methods regarding magic. Though now, she had no right words on how to comfort her distressed child. She still very much believed her child knew their own mind and that every word Sylvie said was not some child wanting to play pretend but a child in so much pain from hiding her true self for far too long. Perhaps Frigga felt a sense of guilt from not realising her child's distress. What Sylvie was feeling wasn't something Frigga had not heard before but it was still new to her. It was not a choice. She would continue to love her child unconditional despite not understanding much.

"For how long have you been feeling this way?"

Sylvie sniffled and wiped her tears with a shrug. "A long time. It has only become much worse. I have tried, really tried to stop being this way. To be more like Thor and the others."

Frigga placed a strand of hair behind Sylvie's ear. "You do not have to be anything like your brother. You two are very special in your own ways. Thor.. he relies on brute strength, charging head first into battle without analysing the battle field in itself. Of course he has some remarkable strengths. But you, my child, you are very powerful, intelligent, pure at heart, cunning even. You have qualities that many dismiss, cast aside as if they were only weak but my dear, they are your hidden strengths to use to your advantage." Frigga's voice whispered softly. She continued;

"And.. if from within you feel.. you're trapped.." Frigga paused, searching for the right words.

"In the wrong body." Sylvie said, completing her mother's sentence.

Frigga nodded. "Yes. Then we shall do whatever we can to support you. You will encounter many who will not quite fathom all of this, or many will say that you are sick. Do not ever let other's perception of who you are change you. Only you truly understand who you are from within and that’s all that matter."

Sylvie stood there, giving herself some time to take in what her mother had said. She had not expected this sort of outcome. A small smile made it's way to Sylvie's lip.

"Thank you, Mother. Can we tell Father...together?"

"We will and he shall love his daughter all the same." Frigga placed a kiss upon her forehead. "This..is still very new to me but is there another name you one day wish to be called by?"

Sylvie's eyes sparkled with instant excitement. She picked up her story book and pointed to the Valkyrie on the front cover.

“Her!” She passed the book to her mother. Frigga turned to look at the back of the book to read the blurb.

"Sylvie?" She said, reading the main character’s name.

Sylvie nodded, the void becoming only but a distant ache. Right now she no longer thought about what her father or Thor would think of this or for the rest of Asgard for that matter. Sylvie wanted to live in this blissful moment and hoped for many more.

"Sounds very elegant and mystical." Her mother said. "It's perfect."

Sylvie struggled to hide her ever growing smile as she hugged her mother.

"Though you must understand it will take us all some time to adjust to this change. We may make mistakes along the way, but I can assure you that as a family, together, we will support you."

Sylvie understood that it would be a big adjustment for everyone, even for herself and mistakes will follow and many will not support her journey, she was well aware of the troubles she may face but right now, Sylvie had made her first steps into becoming the person she was on the inside

"I know, Mother." Sylvie said, she reached down picking up the shawl and silver headpiece. "Here. I'm sorry for taking them without your permission, Mother.”

Frigga took the headpiece and placed it on Sylvie's head.

"Keep them." She smiled. "They look much better on you, my little princess."

- - - - -

A/N: Omg I didn't think I'd make this so heartbreaking. Also please no comments about how I didn't explain being trans that well considering its coming from a distressed child

[scullydubois]

that terror that keeps me brave: a sex education fic

hi, hello, now that I am riding high off the excitement of season three, i am finally gonna start publishing the sex education fic that I began writing in uhh...february! it primarily follows jean, maureen, and jakob as they deal with the ramifications of the season two finale. again, i started this months ago so it is not influenced by season three, and you can read it without watching that. it will focus on jean's pregnancy and maureen exploring her sexuality in the wake of her separation.

chapter one is under the cut! 1.5k, rated T. read it on ao3 here.

I:

Jean taps her pen absentmindedly against her soft leather notebook, misery on the faces of the couple in front of her. It’s a classic story: the once-adoring wife who has seen the dream crumble in front of her and her unshaven husband. Jean’s eyes train on him as he squirms in his seat.

“So, to clarify, you experienced a nocturnal emission from a dream about your co-worker, and then when Cecelia asked what the dream was about, you told her the truth.”

The man nods. Jean shifts her focus to the woman.

“And now, Cecelia, you are mad at him because you believe that he cheated on you.”

“Yes,” the wife squeaks. “He got off on another woman! Am I supposed to be okay with that?”

Jean pulls her lips into a poorly drawn line. “But you don’t have any other evidence of his cheating, correct? You’re using this dream as the sole reason for your accusation?”

“The dream is the cheating, there doesn’t need to be nothing more.”

Jean glances at the woman over her glasses. “Let’s ask Brian, shall we?” She crosses her legs, turning her attention warmly toward the poor man. “Have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse or anything of the sort with this woman while you were awake?”

“No.” He shakes his head violently. “Never.”

“Would you ever do so?”

“No...Addison--that’s her name--is fine-looking, but I’m married and I love my wife. I would never do such a thing.”

Jean has seen her fair share of men who are bullshitting. Brian is not one. She closes her notebook. “See, Cecelia? You are the one he wants. Nocturnal emissions are involuntary physical responses to subconscious stimuli. Addison is Brian’s co-worker, which means he probably sees her quite often. This makes it more likely for her to turn up in his dreams. It’s neither an affront to you, nor a compliment to her.”

Cecelia pouts. “I just don’t feel right about it.”

Jean rests her glasses on the crown of her head. “This could easily have been you who had the dream about your co-worker, and what then? How would you feel if Brian were accusing you of something you couldn’t control?”

“I never have those nasty dreams,” Cecelia counters, scoffing. “Not even about my own husband.”

Jean can’t help but fight back a smirk. “Well, Cecelia, that may be an issue for another session.”

“Like hell it will be! I’m giving you money to tell me it’s okay for my husband to make love to another woman! What do I look like, a fool?”

Jean folds her hands over her lap. Nothing she hasn’t heard before.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Cecelia, but I’m glad you and Brian could come in and have this conversation today.” She exchanges a sympathetic look with Brian. “My ears are always open.”

“Thank you, Jean,” the man says, ushering his wife out of the office. “We’ll see you next time.”

And Jean’s sure they will, because they’ve had this exact session about five separate times. The only thing that ever changes is what woman features in Brian’s dream. Once, it was even Jean! Now that was a session. You’d think, by now, that Brian would just tell Cecelia that every dream is about her. The honest men are always the ones who can afford a little dishonesty.

This is what’s on Jean’s mind when she jaunts into the foyer and finds the most honest man she knows standing there like he’s waiting to be checked in. Grease streaks his clothes; he’s stopped by in between jobs.

“Jakob!” Her voice is taut and uncompromising.

“Jean!” His is cordial and languid. “That nice couple let me in, I hope it won’t be a problem.”

Jean shifts her weight onto one heel, stretching her free leg. “I have another session in a few minutes. You should go.”

“Such strict avoidance of an ex-partner is not healthy, you know. I’m sure they taught you that in therapy school.”

“And continuing to show up at your ex-partner’s home after they have indicated they do not wish to see you is called stalking.” Jean strides into the kitchen. His clunky footsteps follow her. “I didn’t need to go to ‘therapy school’ to learn that.”

“We didn’t have those kinds of laws in Sweden until very recently. It was viewed as an expression of fondness when I was growing up.”

“That’s a view universal to men around the world,” Jean retorts. “They can’t all be right.”

“I was let in here, remember?” Jakob points out. “I don’t believe that makes it possible to prosecute me for any crimes.”

“Well, if I see you grab a kitchen knife, I’m going to assume the worst.”

“If I touch a kitchen knife, you may arrest me.”

“Wonderful.” Jean starts the coffee pot and pulls her beloved honeycomb mug from the cabinet. Despite herself, she grabs another one and offers it to Jakob. “Coffee?”

“No thank you. I had my smoothie this morning.”

“Ah.” She should’ve known. She stands on her tip-toes to slide the rejected mug back on the shelf. When she turns around, her visitor is gone. This isn’t of particular concern to her, though it is rather strange.

She sets her mug beneath the coffee pot and lets it run. As the steamy liquid spews out, she surveys her kitchen. Following the trend of the day, curiosity gets the best of her. “Jakob?” she calls.

A familiar head pops out of the pantry. “You have not used your pan shelf.”

Jean takes her coffee and shuffles over. “No, I have not,” she confirms, mimicking his charmingly formal way of speaking.

“Is it not adequate?”

“I told you, I don’t need it.” She turns on her heel, gliding toward the table. “Now, can you get out of my pantry?”

With an amused smile on his face, Jakob slips out and shuts the door.

“How was the session?”

Jean casts a downward glance at him. “I’m not supposed to share--”

“My mistake.” Jakob sits down and settles his hands on the table, the epitome of patience. Jean feels a nagging tug in her stomach, and she can’t discern one potential cause from the other.

She sighs. Jakob’s eyes have always struck her as those belonging to a guard dog who’s sworn to protect. Their inability to deceive is a great comfort, and so different from most of the men she has known.

She presses the mug to her lips, drinking in the miracle roast that she has been meaning to cut back on. 200 milligrams per day, that’s the recommended maximum intake for expecting mothers. She’s keeping herself right at that.

It is hard to steel herself against Jakob when he looks at her with such genuine eyes, especially knowing that she can’t offer him the same.

She swallows her sip, sets the mug against the table. “Do you feel that a husband who’s having wet dreams about another woman is cheating?” She eyes Jakob like he’s one of her clients, someone she must pick apart.

Jakob eyes her in kind, deducing that this is not a trick, but an honest question. “Yes,” he responds in his frank tone. “That would be an emotional betrayal at least.”

Jean leans back in her chair. “Why do you say that?” She may as well have her notebook and pen in hand.

“Because he’s emotionally attached enough to this person to have those sorts of dreams.” It sounds completely sensible, Jean thinks, when he says it. And it makes her sound like a bitch for what she has to say, but a situation where she must leave her emotions out of the equation is exactly what she needs when it comes to him.

“Dreams occur in our subconscious, unbeknownst to our waking selves. We cannot plan them. And the physical response is involuntary. Nocturnal emissions happen without our intervention. He is neither choosing the subject of his dreams, nor is he choosing his sexual response to them. Therefore, no cheating is taking place.”

“So cheating is a choice then,” Jakob muses. The weight of this statement hangs between them. He searches Jean’s face for signs of apprehension.

She stiffens in her chair but holds firm. “Yes. It is.” She understands the implications of admitting this, and she hopes he does too. She has done him wrong, and the worst they can do is let it keep happening. Even this choice, though, does him wrong, and for that Jean is sorry.

The doorbell rings, no doubt the next sexual conundrum she must untangle. She slides her chair back, grabs her mug, and gives Jakob a look that’s almost apologetic.

He returns the look, his eyes both fire and ice. “Another pair whose relationship you will save.”

Jean breaks eye contact when she realizes he’s being serious, for that’s simply too sweet a thing for him to say. She walks him to the door, and it strikes her as all too familiar.

“Thank you for your help,” he utters when she opens the door to her clients. She sees what he’s doing and plays along.

“You’re welcome. See you next week.”

“Yes,” he says, fixated on her. “See you next week.”