#it was v difficult to make sure no repeat bands

[sensitiveseedling]

Music challenge thingy 🎶

rules: Spell out your URL using songs! I was tagged by @softdudebro. If you listen to any of the songs i picked and like them let me know  👀 (its the rules)

S: Swim Until You Can’t See Land by Frightened Rabbit

E: Every Man Has A Molly by Say Anything

N: No Children by The Mountain Goats

S: Someone New by Hozier

I: I Am Not a Robot by MARINA

T: The Dirty Glass by Dropkick Murphys

I: I Don’t Feel Like Dancing by Scissor Sisters

V: Verbatim by Mother Mother

E: Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles

S: Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood

E: Every Breath You Take by The Police

E: Everything to Everyone by Everclear

D: Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

L: Learning to Fly by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

I: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

N: No Glory in the West by Orville Peck

G: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by ABBA

Tagging: @potatophantom74 @ianvs @nelwynp ???

[httpsmica]

Long Live

“I had the time of my life with you.”

“Long Live” is the last track on Taylor Swift’s third studio album “Speak Now.” The singer-songwriter said, “This song is about my band, and my producer, and all the people who have helped us build this brick by brick. The fans, the people who I feel that we are all in this together, this song talks about the triumphant moments that we’ve had in the last two years.” The lyrical content of this song basically describes the moments when Taylor had her ups and downs, her losses and wins, and how she had the best people surrounding, helping, and supporting her to get through every challenge and milestone in her life. She is simply implying that no matter what happens along her journey, no matter how life turns out to be, she wants everyone she loves to remember the good moments they’ve shared and to remember her name.

This song is definitely one of my favorites. Whenever I want to look back on some memories that remain significant to me, this is the exact song I’ll play on repeat to make me feel nostalgic. Specifically, I would like to dedicate this song to my high school friends and batchmates. They are the ones who have witnessed my highs and lows, and they are also the ones who have always helped me overcome every obstacle that’s hindering me to step further into my journey of life. Now that we are onto our last step of our high school lives, and we are almost bidding our goodbyes to one another, I’d like to tell them to always remember every moment we’ve shared, no matter how wondrous or terrible it is. I want them to reminisce about our sleepless sleepovers, our difficult yet fulfilling presentations, and our countless random get-togethers that took too long to happen. I want each and every one of us to be remembered and to never be forgotten.

As this school year is passing by swiftly and college is getting near, I know that most of us will become too distant to each other. We’ll take different paths and plans towards our own goals, and our high school lives will just be a memory to look back on. It’s a bittersweet feeling to say goodbye to each other and to continue on with our lives in a new environment with new people we’d spend our lives with, but we all know that this end will take us to a new beginning that we will surely enjoy as well.

As Taylor Swift said, “It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age.”

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFglkZVPBY0

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/4ewAfHYpDTzpW1GKO44CVP?si=f1bd059e8b2a4ff2

[starshipsofstarlord]

Conference Room

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky gets a surprise when he realises that things that were looked down upon, and people were often disgusted by in his day and age, are wanted in this one.

Warnings | includes smut, blowjob, cum facial, Bucky being an insecure bb, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Everyone filed out of the meeting room, one by one disappearing into the maze of the compound. Bucky watched you with tender eyes, slowly following behind, as you headed for the door.

But instead of passing though the threshold, so that you could make your way on route to the kitchen, in order for you prepare yourself a well deserved drink after sitting through the small conference, you closed the door, and pushed down the latch.

The action itself made Bucky stop in his footsteps, and fix you with a confused expression. He wasn’t sure why you had locked the two of you in here. Only moments ago you had been on a group call with Fury, and now that he had signed off, all of you had been free to leave.

But that freedom that all the else had fled feebly towards, served a much different price to that for which you specifically had in mind for him. “Sergeant Barnes, I think the two of us need to have a little talk; our ears only.”

Bucky gulped, remaining upon the spot that he was stood in. He racked his mind for reasons that you would want to do this here, and not in one of your bedrooms. It would only make things more difficult for when he left the scene, heartbroken by you cutting him off, and finally pushing him away.

It was inevitable that it would happen somewhen; but it was too early. Things were finally running smoothly, he felt content and happy, and as though he were making a good difference to the world, which is all he ever wanted. However, it appeared that all of that was about to come tumbling down at his feet, in the same very moment.

The two of you hadn’t been dating too long, just short of three months. And during that time, the pair of you had never once gotten obscenely intimate. So in your case, as he viewed it, you really had nothing to lose. But he couldn’t pin point as to why you were dressed in a sly smile, and creeping ever so steadily towards him as though you had a surprise.

“Doll.” He spoke softly, thinking that it would be the last time he had the opportunity to describe you with that pet name. From the way that he addressed you, your expression quickly became more innocent and happy.

As you got closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his middle, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss upon his material covered chest. “Baby.” You greeted him, moving to his lips next, and pressing a fluid peck upon them.

“What are you doing?” He unsurely asked, his voice cracking in the meanwhile, and his face scrunching up into a confused frown. Your hands rubbed down his chest, and plucked the band of his trousers, over again in a repeated motion.

Sucking your lip into your mouth, you looked up into his sky blue eyes, reading them for any signs of him being affected by your actions. Rather than feeling aroused, it seemed to make him confused, which was not at all your intention.

“You seemed tense Buck.” Your hands raked their way back up to his shoulders, soothing any apparent tightness that were held within his muscles. “I thought maybe... I could help loosen you up.” Fluttering your eyelashes at him, Bucky lightly groaned, rubbing his lips together as he mulled over what the pair of you could possibly get up to in this room.

His hands went down to the button of your jeans, but lightly, you slapped his hands away, doing the same to him, and undoing them. As your fingers toyed with the zip that helped the denim be adjustable to his size, your other palmed him through the blue material. “This is about you James. I want to make you feel good.”

Again, he swallowed his own saliva, he paid the utmost attention to your every movement, completely compelled with how you tossed your hair to the side by simply moving your head. “You want me to suck your cock, I promise I’m good at it.” A giggle erupted from your mouth, and Bucky clasped your chin in the feather light grip of his vibranium hand.

He pulled your lips to his, warming them up before slipping his tongue inside. It had been a long time, though he hated to admit it, since he had done anything even slightly sexual, and a part of him was afraid that he wouldn’t last long.

But the other was excited, back in the forties , blowjobs weren’t often digressed. The idea had always appealed to hun, however no dame had ever wished to dirty their knees before him, and take his sufficient length down their throat. It pained him a little, knowing that like most people he had encountered through his life, that they would take from him, but never return it with an ounce of kindness.

He’d perceive it as a dream come true, the woman that owned his entire heart, independently wanting to pleasure him in such ways that were looked down upon in his day. “Are you sure?” He pulled away, desperate for some clarity on the matter.

“Yes, of course I am.” You smiled, drawing him in for another locked lip session. After a minute or two of tasting his tongue, you trailed your direction down, running down his chin, and then his neck, until you completely dropped to your knees, rutting your hand against his growing cock.

Right then, from that image alone, Bucky swore that he would die. That innocent expression that was entailed upon your face had him mentally cursing, and he couldn’t help but groan to himself in a relaxed manner as you pulled his jeans down to his ankles, leaving only his boxers as the final barrier.

Lightly, you pressed a kiss to where you guessed his tip to be through the cotton, gently running your tongue down the shaft, and lower down to where his balls were stationed. “Y/n, please stop teasing.”

“Tell me Bucky.” Your fingertips cascaded up and down his v line, warming him up to what was to come(pun intended). “Have you ever been sucked off before?” His heart rate picked up, as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“How did you- that punk!” He said in reference to Steve, realising that he must have let the detail slip to you. But he couldn’t be made really, if the captain hadn’t digressed his secret to you, then he may have waited longer to experience the enthralling and dirty, as it had been known to be, engagement.

Without any pressure, you pressed your teeth upon his cock, dragging his attention back towards you. “Now that is no way to talk about your dear friend, I’d say he did you a favour.” He was getting ready to grumble in his Bucky manner, but was hit with your gasp as you suddenly pulled his boxers down, his dick slapping upwards, having your entire focus.

Reaching forward with a hand, you wrapped it around the mid section of his shaft, your palm hardly fitting around his girth. “It’s so big.” You gaped at the sight, moving your hand up and down to gouge a reaction out of the super soldier above you. His head leant back, his eyes screwing shut as he realised just how sensitive he was. He felt like a virgin all over again.

An obscene and loud moan was pulled from his mouth as you ran your tongue up his shaft, humming at the taste of his intimate skin. With the encouragement of his lie noises, you directed his tip towards your lips, rubbing it upon the cushioned flesh, before sinking him halfway in your mouth.

“Holy fuck!” He exclaimed, reaching down and on instinct entangling his metal hand in your loose hair. As though you were doing nothing, you innocently looked up at him with wide doe eyes., although he could feel you hollowing your cheeks around him, as you began to bob your head.

Only then did he realise how experienced you must have been within this department, for he noticed how you didn’t struggle nor gag the slightest around him, and it appeared that you were enjoying it as much as he was.

One of your hands planted itself on the thickness of his thigh as your other found homage with fondling his balls. His chest rapidly moved as he felt every slither of your tongue around him, and as you pulled slightly back, you began dipping it in the line of his slit.

“Baby, slow down, or I’m going to cum.” With his words heard, you took him out of your mouth, wrapping your hand around his saliva soaked rod, and began pumping him rapidly. For a moment, he swore his head was going to explode as he saw you stick your tongue out, awaiting his load that was soon to be delicious.

“Cum Buck. Want you to cum for me.” It was impossible for him to hold back any longer, and thus, his seed flew over the expanse of your tongue, whilst the rest spurted over one side of your face. “Hmm.” You mumbled, swallowing that of it that you caught, and scooping a swipe into your mouth.

“I swear to god that I’m in love with you.” He spoke breathily as you stood up, both of your faces flushed from the activity. He pulled you in for a few pecks, to which you could do nothing more than stare into his oceanic pools.

“Well that’s encouraging.” You laughed, reaching down and tucking his softening cock back into his boxers and jeans, giving it a loving pat before pulling away. “I love you too Bucky Barnes; always.”

“The conference room though, really?” He asked with a bemused laugh, causing you to shrug. “You’ve got to walk out of here now.” He said, motioning to the mess on your face.

“That is something that I didn’t think of.” You responded, your eyes darting a around the room, until your eyes landed on the box of tissues that Tony had brought in at the start of the meeting. Thank Thor for his cold! “Grab me some paper towels from the corner would you babe?”

He sent you a pleased, and you’d say very satisfied smile, before stepping back, and heading in the direction of the desk, picking a few sheets out of the cube, and walking back to help you clean up. He felt like he at least owed you that much.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Superman's Dishcloth

A small cute headcannon thats been sitting on my tablet?

Summary: some people use pick up lines to get a womans number, henry uses a crochet lesson.

Warnings: Fluff?

Your fingers twisted the yarn around the hook automatically looping and pulling untill you made another double crochet stitch that the pattern required.

To be honest you wasnt paying that much attention as you worked your project, which was stupid really because you were making a new pattern, a bobble popcorn style head band.

You couldnt concentrate for two reasons

One. You were on a goddamned plane soaring across the Atlantic ocean. And if things went tits up you cant swim.

And two? You were seated next to none oher then mr henry cavill himself.

Not that you made a thing about it or even dared to look at him.

He he was watching you, eyes frowning as your fingers twisted the yarn into an intricate looking yet fairly simple pattern.

Youhad to stifle a laugh as his fingers twitched tryig to follow the moves and figure out what you were doing.

You growled missing count again. One, two, three three, skip three. A crochet, half double crochet, two double crochet in one stitch then skip three stitches and repeat untill the end.

Normally youd have no problems but your audience was putting you off.

You dropped the project in your lap as you miscounted again and realised you had to undo the last twelve stitches otherwise you'd be a set out on the end.

You closed your eyes grunting before slipping the hook out and began to tug the working yarn slowly before pinching it and slipping the hook into the loop catching it before it all unraveled.

"Why'd you undo it?" You jumped a little as the huge man beside you spoke up after watching you quietly since take off.

"Huh?... oh i misscounted i skipped four instead of three so it'd be out of line on the end and curl round..."

"How'd you know?" He frowned now leaning over even more curious then before.

You chewed your lip trying not to freak out as he peered over your little project.

"Err well i just counted the stiches i had left on the row, see i was up to here and there was five left not six, so i pulled it taught to spot the odd one out" you explained pulling more yarn through so you could point out the stitches to him with the hook.

"It looks complicated, you twist it so many times?" He said as your fingers began moving once more creating the repetitive pattern.

"Yeah... its not too difficult, Im doing a few different stitches is all, once you know a single crochet stitch and a chain stitch your good to go" You muttered with a smile.

"I doubt its that simple" he replied trying to keep up with watching your fingers guiding the hook jthought the piece making the fabric grow.

"It really is, here you see the little v on top?" You said slowing deciding to show him just how simple it was.

"Yeah?" He hummed quietly watching keenly.

"Thats the row before, so you slip your hook under both strands like this and loop your yarn over then pull through under that v so you have one loop on your hook" you said moving slowly and loosened the stitch with a light wiggle so he could see properly.

"Then loop the yarn over again so you have two loops, and pull the second one through the first... and thats a single crochet stitch" You explained showing him slowly.

"So you make lots of tiny loops and pull them through one another and it some how becomes fabric?" He asked fascinated by it, watching as you began to work on the next stitch.

"Yeah pretty much"

"But that one you pulled the wool over before you did anything at all?" You paused impressed he had noticed the slight difference... he had been watchkn that closely?

"So that was a half double, when you do a half double or double you yarn over first, then you just keep yarning over and pulling through until your left with one loop on the hook" you tried explaining as simply as you could.

"... it still sounds hard" he uttered still focusing on your hands that had been creating stitches.

"Honestly its not, i taught myself in about an hour and a half? Here try it? I've got extra yarn in my carry on if you want to give it a go?" You offered and instantly flushed you did not just offer to teach superman how to crochet like a fucking granny!

Before you could take it back and apologise he beamed.

"Really? That would be fun, i've never tried anything like this before" he said eagerly.

"Err yeah sure lemme just get you started, i'll give you a 5 hook... here" you said surprized digging about pulling the small ergonomic crochet hook out and some mustard yellow yarn.

"So you start with a slipknot... and then a few chain stitches" you began guiding him through it slowly teaching him the steps.

"So do you always crochet on long flights?" He asked pokeing his tongue out as he tried concentrating on the stitches he was doing.

"Yeah, im not good with confined spaces... especially confide spaces that are a good few miles in the air over the open ocean" you chuckled nervously chaining a stitch then turning begining your next row.

"Honestly im not either, usually i have kal- my dog but... not this time... this is good though, its helping take my mind off it thank you" he said sincerly.

"Dont mention it"

"Oh... i think ive done it wrong?" He said andnheld it out to you, you prodded it and to be honest you were impressed, it was neat, not a dropped stitch in sight... just a few loose stitches here and there, but he was finding a good tension.

"No, thats not wrong... just your tension thats all it comes with practice" you said handing it back to him.

"Tension?" He said making you pause. Oh yeah, he wouldnt knpw what that is yet.

"Yeah, how tight you hold the yarn and hook determies how tight your stitches are... mines pretty bad, i have to always use a size bigger hook" you expalined simply

"Really?"

"Yep, i do it too tight- even snapped a metal hook in my hand before" you chuckled remebering the way the hook had just... snapped mid project.

"Wow that sounds painfull?" He huffed eeingnyour hand curiously as if expecting you to snap a hook then and there.

"Yeah, i will admit i was frustrated with the project so it probably didnt help" you chuckled sheepishly.

"Frustrated? Was it complicated like that one?" He asked nodding to your growing head band.

"No, i kept loosing count on a pattern of 78 stitches" you said trying to wave it off but in actual fact that project had been murder.

"So what are you making?" He finally asked eyeingnyour work that had grown wider.

"A little headband, and hopefully i will widen it at the ears to keep em warm" you giggled wrapping it around pinchingnthe ends together proudly presenting it to him.

He grinned and looked down at his little square fiddling with it.

"And im making a... mess?" He laughed holding up the uneven square cheeks tinted pink when you giggled again.

"... Dishcloth?" You offered prodding it gently.

"Perfect, im making a dishcloth!" He bellowed nodding proud of his new diy dish cloth.

"I'm henry by the way. But from the way you were shaking in your seat im guessing you knew?" He finally introduced himself holding out a hand.

You smiled shyly and took it shakingnhands trying not to fawn over how huge hot and soft the palm was.

"Yeah... sorry i was nervous and you probably dont want to be bugged. Im y/n" you tried explaining nervously but he chuckled.

"I wouldnt mind being bugged by such a cutie~" he uttered quietly smirking at you tipping his head down a little too make sure you heard him despite his voice being quiet.

"Oh stop it" you flushed quickly looking down at your headband noticing your stitches werent as even as they could have been, but it couldnt be helped you had handsome distraction.

A very distracting handsome distraction.

"Its true. Besides i think it was me bugging you... and i have managed to plunder through your wool" he grinned sheepishly holding up his little dishcloth.

"Its fine, it not expensive, this is left over yarn from other projects" you waved him off. It was true ou had lots of odd ends and half skeins of woll from other projects.

"Well still i appreciate it, i hate flying" he said sincerly.

"Well now you have something to practice. Youll leave the plane with a new skill to stick on your cv" you added with a grin nudging him playfully.

"Indeed... And perhaps i can leave the p,ane with err...maybe your number to? You know to replace the wool and erm swap err instructions?" He said nervously jumbling his words.

You paused and looked at him shocked blinking. Did he just?

You blinked again watching as his face grew red and he chuckled nerously plucking at the woll on his dishcloth.

"Well i suppose every student needs to be able to contact theor teacher~ and these instructions are called patterns" you smiled to him nodding slowly.

"Right right i knew that of course they're patterns" he chuckled grinning ear to ear relived you hadnt turned him down.

"Well we have a good few hours, perhaps a few more lessons for my little student?" You teased picking up the pattern to show him some of the abbreviations. Mostly to try and concentrate on somthing other then the fact superman had just asked for your number... and was taking crochet lessons.

"Of course" he said excited eyes glittering with glee whilst looking at the small page.

[peachpanlong]

‘Horny Blond Twink Fucks Himself on Strap-on After Being Teased For Hours’

Naoya Zenin x reader, 18+

cw // arranged marriage (mentioned once), submissive! Naoya, pegging, exhibitionism, degrading kink, use of sex toys while driving, use of sex toys in public, untouched orgasm, public sex, overstimulation, edging, oral (m. receiving), brat taming

word count: 2.4k

this is part of the jujutsu hub collab! Thank you @suna-reversed for letting me participate ♥️

(Do not repost my work unless you have permission to do so, reblogs are fine)

Going shopping with naoya would usually be considered a task close to impossible. The constant nagging and snarky comments made you want to strangle him on multiple occasions, yet you somehow held yourself back to avoid unnecessary drama with the higher ups. After 5 unbearable months of living with him due to an arranged marriage you had found various methods of shutting that pretty mouth of his. Your favourite method including the help of your trusty friend, a vibrating cock ring.

He knew that if he opened his mouth to remark on your choice of clothing a shaky moan would follow. There is nothing more he hated than being looked down on, the fear of people glancing in his direction with a disgusted look convincing him to just stay quiet.

“I have been invited to a social event with the Zenins. I will take you shopping for a dress today so you can look half decent.” Ignoring the spiteful remark you responded.

“Okay, on the condition you wear the cock ring.” An audible scoff followed. He turned his heels to walk towards the kitchen. Filling up the portafilter with coffee grinds he let out a soft ‘fine’, refusing to let his eyes meet yours. You held back a laugh by biting down on your cheeks.

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this…” you breathed out. “I’m only doing this because I know you’ll be a complete bitch to me if I don’t.” Humming in agreement you inhaled the nutty aroma coming from the coffee machine. While frothing the milk with one hand he used the other to place two mugs down onto the drip tray.

“Get a dress that hugs your figure and flaunts your tits. I want to show you off to the bastards I have to call relatives.” He places down a mug of coffee with a marshmallow next to it, just the way you like it.

You sunk the marshmallow into the coffee while continuing small talk with him.

“You’re an asshole.” He whined, groaning at the feeling of the vibrations on his cock. You let out a small chuckle knowing he’s all bark and no bite. You played around with the settings of the cock ring before settling for a low vibration that would be sure to give him some sort of attention but not enough attention to chase his sweet release.

“I will get you back for this shitty stunt, whore.” He snarled yet his words only fueled you to torture him more. With a hum leaving your lips you pulled his boxers and hakama pants up, hearing a groan come from him in response.

“You’re lucky the pants cover your erection.”

The car ride felt like hours, if not days, to the blonde man. Shaky moans fled through gritted teeth while his nails dug into the steering wheel. Your eyes were glued to his face. The way his nose scrunched when the vibrations increased was for some reason incredibly entertaining to you. When the car came to a halt in the store’s parking lot you groaned. You were having fun messing with him.

“Does this ‘flaunt my tits’, Naoya?” You said in a mocking tone while twirling in an emerald green mermaid dress that had a deep v-neck travelling down to your abdomen. All he gave you was a curt nod and a groan when his eyes focused down to your chest. You changed back into your clothes and gave the dress to naoya.

“Pay for this, I want to look around still.” He rolled his eyes and turned his body towards the cashier. The way his legs trembled from the cock ring was incredibly entertaining for you. Rather than paying attention to the dress hung up on the clothes rack your gaze landed on the way his hips twitched to find some form of friction. Your hands snuck into your pockets where the remote was being held. Without warning him, your fingers turned the dial to the maximum setting only to swiftly spin it back to the lowest setting. If he hadn’t been holding onto the cash register counter he would have fallen from the shock. A very loud moan escaped his lips as he shot an unpleasant glare in your direction.

“Sir, are you okay?” Concern was laced in the cashier’s voice. Naoya responded with a quick ‘yeah’ while giving some pathetic excuse for his accidental noises. After he had paid for the dress he grabbed at your arm. You let out a pained gasp “Ow! what the fuck, Naoya!”

His clutch on your shoulder only became harder after hearing your aggravation. The second his car door closed was the second a desperate moan left his lips.

“You’re such a bitch for doing that to me. Do you not understand your place, woman?” His shaky breathes made it difficult for you to focus on what he was saying. He looked so much better when he was malleable and timid.

He avoided any conversation with you the entire trip home, occasionally letting out a pained groan from the still vibrating cock ring. Your husband was obviously pissed off at you yet you found it difficult to care; especially when his face looked so fucked-out.

The way he angrily stormed into the house was a sight to see. If it hadn’t been for the painful grip on your arm you would’ve laughed. “I hope you’re ready to be punished. Because I’m not holding back.” His words sounded as if they were growled, a weak attempt to intimidate you. Your hands shifted down to your pockets.

“Don’t you dare-!” His words were cut short by not-so-subtle whimpers and moans. Your fingers turned the dial randomly and without a rhythm, driving him mad. Various curses left his mouth like venom.

“I’m starting to think you talk big just to get your brains fucked out. Tell me, my little slut, is that true?” If he wasn’t already busy palming himself through his pants he probably would have replied with a snarky comeback. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, “Get your pathetic hands off your cock. Do you have any manners?” He gritted his teeth and halted his movements.

“Good puppy. Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you cum.” The smile on your face was far from sincere and he knew that. It was ridiculing- degrading even. The only thing keeping him grounded was his back pressed roughly against the wall. His nose scrunched as the sound of your footsteps came closer. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek. He was such a waste of a pretty face, a shame really.

Naoya’s footsteps followed behind yours as you both walked towards the bedroom. Pushing him down across the end of the bed, you spread his legs to get between them. With your face centimetres from his cock you began to unzip his pants showing you the outline of his erection against his boxers. Your fingers looped against the elastic, letting it tug backwards. A wince left his lips as you let the band snap back against his skin. Finally indulging in his desires you pulled down the material, letting his cock out. A soft ‘please’ left his mouth when you began stroking him.

A sardonic smirk plastered your face. “Be patient, you whore.” You earned a weak excuse for a glare in response. You soon realised that it wasn’t just the cock ring that was vibrating.

“Naoya, your phone.” Letting out a disappointed sigh, you bagan to take the toy off his cock. He mimicked your expression when he saw the contact name.

“Naoya Zenin speaking, what are you calling me for?” An irritated grimace followed his words. Awkwardly, you stayed between his legs not really knowing what to do. You looked between his thighs to notice his dick was still painfully hard despite needing to take a job call.

“Do you get off to the thought of being caught acting like a slut?” A look of fret and arousal shot through his eyes when he heard your words. Your hand started to stroke the bottom of his shaft while you pressed your tongue against the slit on the head. His jaw was clamped shut as his Adam’s Apple involuntarily trembled.

“Sorry, slight migraine. Could you repeat what you said?” He uttered trying to excuse his moans. “That’s fine, sir. I was explaining how…” The man on the phone once again went into detail on his previous statement yet what he told was the farthest thing on Naoya’s mind. Your tongue traced the vein along the underside of his cock before ever-so-slowly letting it sink into your mouth. When the head hit the back of your throat you gave a harsh suck before rising your head again. You knew he hates a slow pace so that’s exactly what you gave him.

“Thank you for your time, sir. It’s greatly appreciated.” Naoya hummed in response and let out a quick ‘yeah’ before hanging up the call. “You whore! Do you know what you’ve done?” You gave a hum that only sent more vibrations to his dick. His hands tangled themselves into your hair. Eventually you began to notice the way his twitches became more frequent and the way his breath hitched. An anguished groan fell from his lips when you lifted your head from his cock, denying him of his release. “What the fuck? Make me cum.” You let out a sadistic giggle. “Nuh-uh. I wanna play, bunny.” You could almost see the steam coming from his ears and to be quite frank, you found it hilarious. Standing onto your feet you walked yourself over to your wardrobe.

“What do you think of trying this one out?” You presented a rather large dildo. “Will that even fit?” His nervous eyes scanned the 8 inches of silicone. “You always manage to make it fit, slut.” You strutted back towards the middle of his thighs while lathering the dildo in lube.

“Hands and knees.” Without hesitation he flipped himself over onto his stomach and raised his ass in the air.

“You’re such a whore.” Your tone sounded like sweet candy in contrast to your words. After you had strapped the harness to yourself you attached the dildo onto it. Aligning yourself against his ass you slowly sunk the strap-on into him. Placing one hand on his hips and the other hand on the mattress beside his head, you leaned onto his back. Starting a very slow pace you began to suck love bites against his shoulder blades. His lips were trembling against the mattress, occasionally letting out soft whimpers whenever you moved a bit too harshly. Using your strong grip on his hips you dragged your hips back until only the tip of the dildo was in his ass. A pleasured scream flooded from his mouth when your hips slammed against his.

“Dumb bitch can’t keep his mouth shut? Do I have to fucking gag you?” Tear stained cheeks struggled to shake left to right, begging you to let him stay in this position. “Fine.” You quickened your place, digging your nails into his skin in the process. You moved your other hand from the mattress to the back of his neck, securing him to the bed as you continued your fast and hard thrusts. His breath hiked as he felt his release creeping up on him. “Please… Touch my cock.” Your chortle was sadistic yet it somehow made his cock twitch. “Oh, but puppy… I wanna see you come undone without being touched.” A choked sob left his lips. His hips began to move against yours as he tried to fuck himself against the strap-on. You let out a disgusted sigh. “Needy whore.” And with that he felt himself going over the edge. You rode him through his orgasm while leaving his cock untouched.

It was almost cute how pathetic he acted for you. Cum saturating the mattress with his head still pushed against the pillow. It took a few seconds for him to snap back into reality and when he did a growl escaped his lips.

“You can get rid of it now.” His face was turned, eyes glaring back at yours. You slowly pulled your hips back, admiring the crescent indents marking his hips. His asshole tightened around the bigger tip of the dildo and when you noticed you couldn’t help but unexpectedly thrust back in. A startled moan left his mouth and when he realised his loud noise, he bit down harshly against his lower lip.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dildo fully inside him you responded with “having fun.”

Your hands reached to the edge of the bed frame, grabbing onto the vibrating cock ring. You tossed his body over so his back was against the mattress. Your fingers traced against the prominent vein on his overstimulated cock. The cock ring slid back onto his dick, making him once again vulnerable for you. The rhythm of your thrusts was relentless, only giving him time to let out soft whimpers covered by his palm. His face looked dazed with his eyes half lidded in ecstasy and his cheeks decorated with an obvious blush.

At that moment Naoya’s thighs began to quiver. “Gonna cum again? Greedy slut.” His hips bucked up against the strap-on, meeting your forceful thrusts. With a broken moan of your name he came on the mattress.

“You did well, my husband.” Slowly, you pulled out the dildo from his used ass. He winced slightly at the feeling of the tip stretching his rim. Turning onto his back, he moved his eyes to look at your figure. In his eyes you were a goddess who, for some odd reason, decided to put up with his bullshit. His eyes lowered to stare at your ass as you left the room. When you came back he noticed that you had detached the strap-on and had a towel in your hand to clean him up with.

No woman but you could make his heart flutter this much.

[sleeperswakewriting]

After Class

For @himebee-5's prompt!

Summary: Petra is Professor Ackerman's star student and yet, she keeps meeting him for office hours every Monday afternoon.

Rated: E

CWs: teacher/student relationship, age gap, praise kink

Word count: 3.2k

Surprise! I queued up another fic for smutty Saturday since I'll be out for most of the day--enjoy! 😉

She was distracting.

Levi prided himself in his stellar concentration, his perfunctory work, and despite his cold and callous demeanor, he was an excellent professor. Always receiving high remarks from his students and colleagues, and managing to churn out at least two research papers a year, there was little that compromised his neat routine.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he faced the chalkboard, clearing his throat. Levi Ackerman didn’t make mistakes, but after one look at her, his mind went elsewhere as he absently completed the calculus equation and one student shakily raised his hand and said, “E-excuse me sir, but I think you forgot to take the derivative in the fifth step.”

Taking a step back, realizing that his glasses slipped from its usual position since he took a double take at her, he merely nodded and erased the step in which he made the error and redid the equation. He thanked the student and a flurry of pencils hit paper as they recorded the problem, and Levi glanced at his watch, giving them a few minutes before he moved on.

It’s wasn’t just the plaid mini skirt and thigh high stockings that did it--he knew he was enough of a perverted old man that he at least acknowledged that turned him on, but the way she sat in the front row, prim and studious as she eyed him for the hour and a half lecture made him feel stupidly special. Most students’ eyes glazed over, and he didn’t give a shit if they were on their phones, it was their time and money after all, but the way her amber orbs never left him was almost damn unsettling if she didn’t have such a coquettish look.

Her short ginger hair was pulled back with a red head band today, and as he was giving back the first test of the semester, he paused at her seat and said, “Good work, Ms. Ral,” while sliding the test face down onto her desk. She beamed, looking at the paper, and her face fell at the grade. Levi frowned slightly, wondering what she could possibly be upset about since she received an 88, the third highest in the class. Calculus wasn’t an easy subject, and it was usually the class where students on the science and math track chose to drop out and choose a different major.

After passing out the tests, he returned to the desk at the front of the classroom to collect his things and head back to his office for his office hours for the day. As most of the students filtered out of the classroom, Petra sat stark still at her desk, eyes running over her exam, and eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Ral?” he asked, slinging his messenger bag over his grey dress shirt, adjusting his tie, and she looked up, eyes aglow. Levi pretended not to notice the way her tight long sleeved shirt hugged her curves, and the v-neck emphasized her breasts when she brought her arms together in anguish.

“I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong, Professor. I’m really disappointed in myself, I thought I aced this test.”

Levi cocked his head. “You should be proud of yourself, you have one of the highest marks in the class.”

Petra shook her head in disbelief. “Even so, I think I made far too many silly mistakes.” She sighed, shoulders slumping in clear disappointment. “I guess I’ll try harder next time. Sorry professor, you probably have to go--”

“My office hours are now,” he said, the words leaving his lips without even thinking. His glasses shone from the ceiling lights of the high lecture hall, and he swallowed. “We can go over the test if you’d like.”

And she smiled brilliantly at him again, collecting her things and swinging her fashionable book bag over her shoulder as she followed him to the math building. Levi kept at least three feet ahead of her, not wanting to give her the impression they had to make small talk since the math building was on the opposite side of the quad, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his office. It was at the end of the hall of the third floor, a quiet place since it was around lunch time and most students were at the dining hall.

Levi closed the old wooden door and gestured for her to sit at the front of his desk while he deposited his bag and thumbed through the manila folder for the answer key. Petra set her things down and unfurled her own test, using his desk as she tapped her pencil at the corner of her lips.

“So which problems were giving you trouble?” He asked, loose leaf paper at the ready, and Petra motioned to problem number three.

“I get tripped up when there’s a double integral, I think.” She was already making the amendments in her head and she asked him for a piece of paper as well. Levi withdrew another from his desk cadenza and his breath hitched as their fingers touched. Stop acting like a teenage boy, he scolded himself, wondering when the last time he went on a date or had gotten laid because this was ridiculous. She was at least ten years his junior, his student no less, and she was just asking her math professor for help, even though she clearly didn’t need it.

She crossed her legs cutely, emphasizing her thighs between the space between her skirt and socks, and Levi averted his gaze as he forced himself to concentrate on her bright tone, going over her process as she circled and made the adjustments from her previous attempt.

“Yes, that’s correct. You want to integrate x and treat y as the constant. It’s like in the partial example, which you completed correctly in problem one.”

Petra smiled, nodding as understanding entered her field of vision and she completed the problem with ease. “Thank you Professor! Can you give me a harder problem just to make sure I understood the concept?”

And as Levi did his best to not pay attention to the way she said harder, he opened up the math textbook and selected an exercise, scratching it onto the paper between them and slid it towards her.

The mahogany desk was slightly too tall for Petra to comfortably lean against from the chair, so she sat up and leaned over to solve the problem, orange hair falling from her tucked ears. This time, Levi didn’t even bother looking away since Petra was fully invested in solving the equation, and he felt his pants tighten as he noted the white lace bra she had on underneath, and her round mounds spilling from her top.

“Is this right?” She asked, finally finishing, sitting back down in her seat and Levi coughed as he fought down the flush on his face.

He stared at the problem, willing himself to concentrate on the numbers in her neat handwriting, but he was finding it difficult to focus as he noticed her licking her lips after reapplying some chapstick. He took it line by line until he finally nodded and said, “Good work.”

Petra returned the paper to her folder and touched his hand gently from across the desk. “Thank you Professor Ackerman, it really means a lot to me that you went out of your way to help me. I guess the reviews were right after all.” His eyebrows rose since he didn’t usually make a habit to read his class reviews but relied on the report that the school gave him at the end of each term.

“Oh really? What do the reviews say?”

Petra giggled, and Levi felt his heart stop at the beautiful sound. “Well for one, they say you’re the sexiest teacher on campus, but more importantly, students who take your class are set up for success for linear algebra, which is my goal. I’m an astronomy major.”

He didn’t know why he found that to be a turn on since he worked at a university where there were literally hundreds of majors, but before he had a chance to think, Petra had collected her things and waved as she made for the brass knob of his office door.

“See you next week, Professor!”

And the door clicked shut. Levi’s head was spinning, and if he didn’t know any better, Petra was outright flirting with him, and he was having a difficult time processing that. He moved to lock the office door and he double checked to make sure that he didn’t have any upcoming meetings. Sinfully, he laid back in his chair and closed his eyes while he unbuckled his pants.

She’s your student, you filthy fuck. But her shiny lips, her sweet voice, and her intellect…

He stroked himself, thinking of her, and he came quickly, her name on his lips as he imagined himself taking her between her plaid skirt and thigh high socks.

---

Monday afternoons became a ritual for them, and while Levi attempted to muster up every ounce of professional courage, he found himself unable to say no to her. Every day, after class, she would sweetly ask if she could go over the day’s lecture, and he would say yes and they would wordlessly walk to his office and repeat the same routine.

It was always strictly professional, but he could have sworn that she was intentionally taking off her jacket or sweatshirt in front of him, sometimes leaving her in only a crop top. He decided then that she was purposely trying to kill him because the blood rushed faster to his groin than he could will himself to stop. He had to keep himself firmly behind his desk, not wanting to scare her from his raging hard-on as she pattered on about her misunderstandings for the day, and he would mutely nod, watching her the entire time.

She stopped the week during finals, only visiting him after his final lecture and he missed her presence during the two week absence. He eagerly awaited the day of the final exam, just to pathetically see her again, and there she was, front and center, pencil at the ready.

“This is my last test,” she whispered to him excitedly as he handed her the exam and he gave a thin smile and muttered a ‘good luck’ to her row, but looked at her the entire time.

She was the last to leave, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she handed him her packet, looking joyful.

“How did you find the test, Ms. Ral?” he asked, sparing her a last glance before she left his classroom for the final time. His heart ached at that, but he supposed it was for the best since dreams and visions of her had plagued him since the beginning of the semester.

“I think I aced it, thanks to my excellent teacher.” And she gave him a dazzling smile as she walked away and Levi trailed her form until she disappeared.

--

It was a routine message that Levi sent out to all of his students, that if they wanted to go over their final exam that they could set up office hours. He didn’t allow for debating for points--he had no time for that, and his grading procedure was precise and calculated, but he set up time slots for ease of the students.

So when he saw Petra Ral in his email, requesting for the last time slot before the last day of the grading period, he hurriedly clicked accept even though she received a perfect score on her test.

It was spring, and the promise of a new future hung in the air when Petra entered his office, wearing a similar ensemble to when she first came in, a red plaid skirt, thigh high stockings, and this time, a white knit t-shirt that unbuttoned just at her cleavage. She poked her head in, and he noticed that she didn’t carry a book bag, but opted for a small purse that slung over one shoulder.

“Hi Professor!” she chirped happily, hands clasped behind her back. Levi allowed himself a smile as he took her in.

“What can I do for you Ms. Ral? Surely you don’t have any complaints about this test--congratulations on ruining the curve, by the way. Your classmates are furious.”

Petra laughed, feeling satisfied with herself as she gazed at him--sleeves rolled up to his forearms and he opted for a vest and tie set that complimented his eyes nicely. “I wanted to let you know that I’m taking Professor Hange’s class next semester for linear algebra.”

His heart fell; he was also teaching that class, but maybe it didn’t fit into her schedule. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “She’s a tough teacher, but she’s good at what she does. Don’t expect to be let go early, the woman can and will go on for hours.”

Petra smiled. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it.” And she shuffled between her feet as a light blush came to her cheeks. “I wanted to give you a thank you gift, for all the office hours you’ve given to me the past semester.”

Levi raised a thin eyebrow between his glasses. “You don’t have to do that, Ms. Ral. It’s part of my job. You’re an excellent student, you made my job very easy.”

She batted her eyelashes as she stepped closer to him. He was seated in his leather office chair, arms crossed and she took a deep breath as she stood a foot apart from him, hands still playing with each other behind her back. “It’s nothing expensive. And you can call me Petra, Professor, the semester is over.”

And before Levi could question her words, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, noticing that Petra was visibly shy despite the bold gesture she had just committed and he stared at her, slack jawed.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Levi’s eyes widened, and the hungry need he had for her over the past three months took over. Before he knew it, he was tugging at her wrist and she was straddling his lap, skirt pooling between them as he devoured her into a kiss, lips furiously nipping and biting as she let out an animated moan. Her hands went for his tie, pulling it from his vest and then around his neck where she buried her fingers into his undercut. A shiver of pleasure went down Levi’s spine as he settled his hands at her waist, then her back, and then at the fabric at the end of her shirt.

Panting, Petra raised her arms, signalling for him to take it off, and Levi let out a groan and a fucking hell at her lacy push up bra. Arms wrapped around each other again, Petra leaned into his chest, pressing her tits against him while she grinded against his lap, smiling as she devilishly noticed his hard-on between their clothing. Her breath was hot against his as she moved to unbutton his vest, and he raised himself to take it off, but let out a hiss as their centers made contact.

Not being able to help himself, Levi trailed his fingers up and down her legs, groaning that he was finally able to touch her, and the way the spandex hugged her skin was driving him crazy. He dove between her skirt, reaching for her panties and he played at her apex, noticing that she was incredibly wet, which only turned him on more.

Petra keened and threw her head back in pleasure as he began lavishing her neck with kisses and suckled at her jawline, happy that she tasted as beautiful as she looked. A light floral perfume danced across her flesh, and he inhaled her as he undid the headband from her hair, freeing the locks so he could bury his nose between them.

“Professor, ah, can you please touch me?” She asked weakly, eyes clenched shut from Levi’s ministrations and he chuckled.

“Only because you’ve been such a good student,” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded as he slipped a finger in, and pleasured sighs escaped both of their lips.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. Were you planning on this before you came in?” Levi asked, using his other hand to unbuckle his pants and slid down his zipper.

Petra was finding it harder and harder to think as Levi pumped into her, alternating between two and three fingers, teasing her clit and taking his hands away before she could go any higher. Vision going blurry, she reached for the back of her bra and undid the hook, letting it fall between them and Levi ripped it off, freeing her breasts.

He took a nipple between his teeth and bit down hard, earning a cry from Petra as she begged him to keep touching her while he buried his face into her chest. Petra moved to play with both of her nipples, all while riding against his hand and she felt like her heart was about to explode from Levi’s touch.

She slid her tongue against his lips, drinking him in as she asked him to help slide her panties down, and he obliged, but not before pocketing them into his pants. She shot him a questioning look, and he smirked, “This is my thank-you gift.”

Bashfully, Petra smiled and pawed him between his underwear, stroking his length up and down with her hand and she pulled his waist down just far enough to free his member. She gasped at his size, and Levi let out a hum of satisfaction while she took a moment to gaze at it, providing him with light touches.

“Levi, can I ride you?” She asked demurely, eyes fixated on his dick and he gripped her by the ass to guide her close.

Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “That’s Professor Ackerman to you.”

Petra keened at his husky voice, and lowered herself onto him, moaning loudly as he breached her, dick hot against her tight entrance.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged, holding her close as she steadily bobbed up and down, her wetness providing enough slickness between them. His balls smacked against his legs, and her tits bounced each time she reached his hilt and she cried out.

Wild with lust, Levi toyed with her clit as she continued to ride him, fingers dancing and shaking as she paused to catch her breath. Their eyes met, and with equal fervor, they kissed as Petra braced her hands against his shoulders, pace increasing and then reaching her climax in a frenzy as she bobbed up and down.

“Professor,” she whined, releasing her hands and crying into his collar as she rode out her orgasm.

Levi’s eyes were clenched shut as her walls fluttered around him, her tightness becoming too much for him as he also met his own pleasure, and he pumped into her in short pulses. Breaths panting, he looked up to meet Petra, who was smiling between breaths.

Still sitting comfortably inside her, Levi laughed warily, unsure of where to go from here. Petra, still wrapping her body around his, licked the lobe of his ear as she said sultrily into his ear, “Did that count as extra credit?”

[jayeray-hq]

Tangled and Entwined

This is my NSFW Secret Santa piece for @candychronicles​ from the Haikyuu Headquarters server! Hello! We haven’t really interacted much, but I hope you enjoy this! I wasn’t entirely sure what you liked, hopefully it’s okay!

Want More Terushima? Check out my Character Masterlist!

Thanks again to the wonderful Tay @deathcab4daddy​ I really bombarded you with a lot of words, but you were amazing as usual! 😊💖

Warnings: 18+ minors dni! smut and fluff, bondage, slightly submissive Terushima, making out, grinding, female reader, biting, cunnilingus, teasing, blowjobs, edging, overstimulation, slight anal fingering (male), unprotected sex, creampie

5.1K words

It had started out innocently enough. It was your first holiday living together, and Terushima had insisted on going all out, making cookies, playing Christmas music, and decorating to celebrate. He’d dove into things so enthusiastically that you hadn’t had the heart to say no, and had been swept along by the tide of his holiday cheer.

You’d been in the kitchen working on icing a batch of cookies when an enormous crash and a string of swear words reached your ears. More than a bit concerned, you’d set your things down and made your way to the living room where your boyfriend was supposed to be decorating the tree.

             “Teru’?” you called a little confused as you entered the room only to find it completely empty of your energetic boyfriend, who’d been bouncing around the house like an overly energetic puppy all morning, belting out song lyrics at the top of his lungs, “Yuuji, where are you?”

             “Here,” he answered, his voice tinged with an unhappy note that let you know even before you rounded the couch that he was pouting, and the sight that met your eyes told you exactly why that was. Somehow, someway, your boyfriend had gotten himself completely tangled up in an extremely long strand of lights, which were wrapped tight around his torso, trapping one of his arms to his side and the other above his head, one of his legs was also thoroughly tangled the lights looped several times around his thigh and calf.

             “Having a little trouble?” you asked, trying desperately to hold back the laughter that was threatening to burst from your lips at the sight of him.

             “It’s not funny,” he grumbled twitching slightly, clearly trying to free himself from his predicament, but failing, reminding you a bit of a fish caught in a net.

             It had taken all your willpower to hold back, but you simply couldn’t any more. Laughter burst from your lips as you clung desperately to the furniture to keep yourself upright. You weren’t ever going to let him live this down. Luckily, your boyfriend had always been the good-natured type and eventually managed to smile back at you despite his predicament, clearly amused by your reaction.

 He even let you snap several pictures of him on your phone without complaint, sticking his tongue out to show off the green metal tongue piercing he’d put in specifically for Christmas. He’d insisted it was his own way of showing holiday spirit, though personally you were pretty sure he’d just thought it had looked cool and bought it on impulse.

 “Alright, kitty, you’ve had your fun,” he told you with a playful pout on his lips, “Now help me out, would you?”

 “Okay, okay,” you conceded with a smile, leaning down to press a light peck to his lips.

 As per usual, when you went to kiss Terushima, he wasn’t about to let you get away with a simple peck, his lips chasing after yours, the warmth of his mouth too sweet and enticing to resist. He tasted like peppermint and chocolate, likely from the hot cocoa he’d been drinking earlier, and you couldn’t seem to resist.

 His lips curled beneath yours in a pleased smile, as you brought one of your hands up to gently cup his face, deepening the kiss, and holding him to you as your other hand supported his neck, fingertips brushing over the soft fuzz of his undercut at the nape of his heck.

 His mouth opened eagerly under yours, happy to welcome you, skilled tongue darting out to lick its way into yours, the hot, wet appendage stroking over yours. The feel of the metal ball of his tongue piercing was familiar by now, unlike the first few times you’d kissed like this and it had taken you by surprise, but the sensation never failed to make you shiver in anticipatory pleasure.

 Each swipe of his skilled tongue against yours sent small spikes of arousal through you, and you hummed in pleasure against his mouth. When you finally parted from him, you were utterly breathless as you panted against him.

 “Naughty,” you scolded a little breathless as you peered into his eyes, forehead resting against his.

 “You love it, kitty,” he insisted a smug grin on his lips, a little breathless himself.

 You hummed in agreement, and shifted so that you were straddling his body, your hips automatically moving to his, and finding a very clear indication of how much he too had been enjoying things. Not that it was difficult, your boyfriend was always eager for you, the day Terushima Yuuji said no to sex would be the day pigs flew.

 “You love it too,” you countered, grinding your hips down on him for emphasis, earning a low, raspy moan of pleasure, from your boyfriend, his whole body jolting as he tried to reach for you, but failed, too tangled in the Christmas lights to move.

 “Never denied it,” he told you with his signature tongue lolling grin, the kind meant to show off the tongue piercing he was still stupidly proud of even all these years later, “So why don’t you help me get untangled and I’ll show you just how much I loved it.”

 You glanced at him, considering, your eyes roaming over him as you sat up so you could see him properly. There was something about him like this that was incredibly appealing. The bright red band t-shirt he’d worn to decorate had risen part way up his chest and was stuck there, exposing the nicely chiseled abs he fastidiously maintained, and the muscles in the arm trapped above his head were taut and straining slightly against the wires. His dark jeans had slipped low on his hips, exposing the nice V cut of his hips, and the dark green elastic of his underwear, and the dark treasure trail that led from his belly button and disappeared enticingly into his pants.

 “Hmm, no,” you eventually told him, after returning your gaze to his, earning a surprised stutter from your boyfriend, the smug look slipping off his face, leaving sputtering confusion in its wake.

 “No?” he asked utterly baffled, “But kitty…?!”

 “No,” you repeated firmly, untangling his arm from where it had been crushed against his side just enough so that it could be lifted above his head, then looping the lights around both his wrists for good measure to keep him pinned there, grinding your hips down on his erection, savoring the way the seam of his jeans rubbed right up against your clit through the thin leggings you were wearing.

 “Stay still, Yuuji,” you warned teasingly, unable to help the smug grin on your lips as your boyfriend watched you with unabashed awe and desire on his face, “Be extra nice for me, and I’ll give you an early gift.”

 “I’ll be good,” he swore vehemently, an excited grin splitting his face, “I’ll be so good!”

 “You’d better,” you told him, leaning down to capture his lips in a heated kiss, one he responded to eagerly, his mouth opening easily, hot, wet, and fervent as you pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses on him before trailing up his jaw kissing and nipping at the skin as you went.

 You moved your hips against him in a slow rhythm, enjoying the feeling of him between your legs. He was loud as usual, moaning unashamedly and doing his best to thrust up beneath you undulating and writhing in a way you couldn’t help but find extremely sexy.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunted, breathless and eager, as you nipped at the skin of his neck, kissing, licking and suckling at it. Normally, you were fairly careful about leaving marks on him, mostly for your own sake. He didn’t care a single bit about it, and was happy to show any hickies you gave him off to the world. He’d even brag about them if he got the opportunity, but you were a little more circumspect.

 It meant you had to be the one to control yourself usually for both your sakes and your own dignity, but seeing how close it was to Christmas, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead you marked him up thoroughly, tossing caution to the wind as you nipped at the skin at the junction of his neck right where the collar of his t-shirt hit, pulling it back, stretching the fabric to give you better access to his skin.

 “Whoa, kitty, you really like this, huh?” your boyfriend asked even as he panted for breath unable to help teasing you despite how helpless he was, “Me, bound and helpless for you?”

 You bit down hard in response, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to be slightly painful, earning a garbled shout of surprise, his hips automatically bucking into yours, and a deep desperate groan escaping his lips. You smirked into his neck even as you laved over the nice bite mark you’d left on his skin, one that would no doubt leave a deep bruise. You’d known from the beginning that Terushima liked a little pain along with his pleasure every once in a while. You just hadn’t realized quite how much he liked it before.

             “What did I say about being naughty, Yuuji,” you purred teasingly into his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe and teasing the piercings with your tongue, “Be nice for me now.”

             “Fuck yes, kitty,” he groaned in response.

             You hummed in pleasure and sat back, grinding down on him again and earning a whimpered moan as you pulled the oversized sweater you’d been wearing up over your head and tossed it to the side. The way he looked at you never failed to make you feel sexy and appreciated. Terushima wasn’t the kind of guy who held back, and his chocolate colored eyes were dark with desire as he let them roam over your exposed torso.

             In turn you carefully hiked his shirt up, pulling it through the strings of lights wrapped taught over his chest so that it was bunched over his collar bones, admiring the way the soft white lights lit his peach colored skin, framing each ridge and dip of his chiseled muscle and caught on the glinting metal that framed his dusky brown nipples.

             You leaned forward unable to help yourself, determined to mark him up just as thoroughly here as you’d done to his neck. One of your hands automatically moved up to gently tug at the piercing through his left nipple, playing with the little metal balls and teasing the tip with the pad of your thumb, hoping to coax some more noise from him.

             He eagerly obliged, curses and moans escaping his lips as he wriggled against his bonds, each sound sending bolts of heat through you making you grind helplessly into him. Your panties were damp between your thighs, no doubt soaked with your desire for him.

             “Like that?” you teased, nipping at the taught skin of his chest and flicking your tongue playfully over his other nipple, rolling the little balls around and enjoying the weight and feel of it as you sucked it into your mouth.

             “Fuck yeah kitty, you know I do,” he panted, his hips jolting and bucking helplessly with every nip and flick of your tongue, seeking friction between your thighs. The flush of his skin, and the breathless way he spoke making you feel utterly electric. Your own body flush with desire and arousal slick between your thighs.

             “Then why don’t you show me?” you asked, your eyes catching on the glinting metal of his tongue as he spoke, desire to have the talented appendage between your thighs coursing through you. You wriggled your leggings and underwear down off your hips, and kicking them away as he grinned at you, clearly picking up on what you wanted.

             “Hell yeah, pretty kitty, come up here and let me show you just how nice I can be,” he ordered, a self-assured smirk on his face as he waggled his tongue at you teasingly, still utterly cocky despite the fact that he was tied up and helpless.

             Still, he wouldn’t be Terushima without the attitude, and you had to admit even if it did drive you crazy at times, other times you found it incredibly attractive. This was one of those times, even if you did roll your eyes at him first, unable to help the amused smile that tugged your lips upwards even as you crawled up his body.

             You hovered over his face hesitantly for a moment, a little worried about smothering him. Normally when you did this his hands were free, and he was the one holding you down. He’d normally dig his hands into your thighs and press his face as close as he could get to you and use his talented tongue to make you cum over and over again until you were a shaking mess of overstimulation.

             This time though his hands were a bit preoccupied and you had absolutely no intention of letting them free. Instead you slipped one of your hands into his and ordered, “Pinch me if you need me to get up.”

             “Yeah right whatever,” he agreed unbothered, “Now come here, kitty.”

             You rolled your eyes again at his careless demeanor but did as ordered, lowering yourself over his face, your thighs spread wide to accommodate the arms held above his head. You let out a choked moan as he immediately dove in. Terushima had always eaten you out like a man starved, desperate to taste you, eager for every little bit of arousal he could pull from you.

             It was always an incredible experience and he knew it too. The man was a god at oral sex, not that you’d ever tell him that lest his ego grow even larger than it already was. He used his tongue piercing with skill, letting you feel the contrast in texture as he traced it over your folds, and lapped at your hold, drinking in your essence.

             “Yuuji,” you groaned, shuddering above him your hips jolting in an aborted movement as he flicked his skilled tongue over your entrance, his nose nuzzling against your clit, doing your best to speak, well aware that he liked to hear you talk when he did this for you, “Feels good, just like that for me, baby.”

             He speared his tongue into you, the sensation making you shake and writhe above him, a litany of moans escaping your lips as you praised him, “Your tongue is so amazing Yuuji, fuck, so good, so good.”

             He sucked and slurped at your folds, the sounds he was making utterly obscene, as he moaned into you, clearly enjoying it just as much as you were. Your hips were making tiny helpless thrusts against his face, seeking more as he ate you out thoroughly enough to make your thighs quake with desire.

             The sensation of it all was too much and quickly sent you tipping over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you, making you glad you had hold of him to ground yourself. He continued to lick and suck at you through it, not letting up for even a second making you whimper as you fought to get your shaking thighs to cooperate so you could pull yourself away.

             “Hey no come back, kitty. I wasn’t done,” he whined unhappily, lifting his head to try to chase you but unable to his arms jerking in a belated movement, clearly trying to grab hold of you.

             “Don’t you want your reward for being so nice to me, Yuuji?” you asked him, a little breathless as you shuffled back and away.

             “I was getting my reward already,” he informed you looking more than a bit smug, his face shiny from your release, “So come back here.”

             “I don’t think so,” you told him with a wry grin. Honestly, you should’ve known he’d say something like that, the cocky little jerk that he was. Still you weren’t about to let him have his way, he was the one tied up, you were the one meant to have your way with him.

             You didn’t give him a chance to protest as you slipped further down so you were straddling his thighs, palming the prominent bulge you found there, and earning a low groan from your sexy boyfriend. It took seconds to undo the belt he was wearing and flick open the button and zipper.

             “Really, Yuuji?” you asked, as you smiled a little in helpless amusement at the boxers he was wearing, which were a dark green and covered in little candy canes and Santa faces.

             “Santa is a sexy man,” he informed you with a teasing grin, completely unashamed, “And so am I.”

             “If you say so,” you agreed with a giggle, tugging his jeans and boxers down. They couldn’t go far because of the string of lights wrapped tight around one of his thighs, but far enough that you could free his erection, which sprang free, resting hard, flushed, and eager against his muscled abdomen.

             “Mm, I guess you are pretty sexy,” you conceded running your hands over his muscled thighs, enjoying the way the muscle flexed under your palms and the way his cock twitched in interest as you traced your thumbs over the sensitive skin on his inner thighs.

             “Fuck yeah I am,” he told you with a smug grin, one that made you want to wipe that cocky expression right off his face. You knew just now to do it too.

             Slowly you leaned down and began to kiss at his thighs, one of your hands reaching up to smooth over the firm muscle of his abs, and the other holding his hips in place. You worked slowly, laving your tongue over the muscle, kissing and nipping, enjoying the way they twitched and jumped with every sharp sensation.

             Your thumb traced circles on his hipbone as his cock twitched helplessly against his belly, the flushed tip smearing precum all over him. You refused to touch it, instead lowering your hand to gently squeeze his full sack, rolling it in your hand, massaging the heavy balls.

             Above you, Terushima was getting loud again, a string of curses leaving his lips in between low moans as your hand slipped lower. You teased the sensitive skin of his perineum with the tip of your index finger, making his hips jolt in pleasure, a surprised whine leaving his lips, the sound making you throb with desire.

             You carefully traced the sensitive pucker of his ass with your finger, pressing on it, teasing just the tip into his entrance, only your firm grip on his hips keeping him from writhing under your ministrations. You found a spot on his thigh that you liked, one you knew would brush up against the inner seam of his jeans and nipped at it several times in succession, hoping to leave a nice thorough mark that would remind him of you every time he moved later.

             “Tease,” your boyfriend accused, the word lacking any sort of sting with how breathlessly he said it.

             “You deserve it,” you told him, lifting your head up so you could look him in the eye even as you continued to tease your finger around his sensitive rim. There was a definite flush to his cheeks, the sheen of sweat on his skin making his golden blond hair stick to his forehead.

             “I thought I was nice,” he protested, a quiet gasp escaping his lips as your hand left his pucker to tease his perineum again.

             “You were nice,” you agreed with a grin, your body humming with arousal from the power you had over him, and the beautiful way he was responding to your every movement, “But then you were naughty right after.”

             “I wasn’t nngh!” he cut off with a groan of helpless pleasure as you finally wrapped your hand around the base of his desperate cock and slowly began to pump him, in long slow strokes.

             “You were,” you corrected, a little entranced with the sounds he made as you swiped your thumb over the sensitive head, gathering the moisture there and using it to help ease the passage of your hand over him, “But that’s okay, because I know exactly what to do with naughty boys.”

             “Oh yeah?” your boyfriend asked, the words probably meant to sound self-assured but coming out eager and breathy with desire instead.

             “Uh-huh,” you agreed, dipping your head to lick a long stripe along the sensitive underside of his cock, making his hips buck helplessly into the air, a shuddering gasp escaping his lips.

             You teased your tongue over the mushroomed head, exploring the sensitive ridge there, savoring the taste of him and the heavy feeling of him on your tongue as you sucked the tip into your mouth. He moaned above you as you continued to work him over, doing all the things you knew he loved, gently grazing your teeth over him, the feel of it making him shudder.

             You allowed yourself to drool all over him, peering up at him through your lashes and making pleased humming sounds around him as you took what you could into your mouth, your hand working the places where you couldn’t quite reach. His lips were parted as he panted for breath, his eyes locked on you, a fascinated awed look on his face that was utterly intent and flushed with desire.

             It was the same look he always gave you, as if he almost couldn’t believe that you’d do something like this for him, despite how eagerly he always went down on you. It made you even more eager to please him, because you knew, despite how utterly cocksure he acted, Terushima worshipped the ground you walked on.

 Experience meant you knew exactly when he was going to cum as you worked him up, only to pull back at the very last second making him whine unhappily as you removed your mouth, helpless confusion painting over his features. It was almost enough to make you feel bad, right up until you remembered the cocky look he’d worn not even five minutes prior and reminded yourself he definitely deserved this. Instead you slowly stroked your hand over him, not quite giving him enough stimulus to cum, but enough to keep him dancing close to the edge.

 “You look good like this, Yuuji,” you praised, well aware he had a bit of a praise kink, “all tied up for me, hard and needy.”

 “Kitty, kitty please,” he groaned, his cock flushed and weeping in your palms, hips shifting helplessly unable to move far because of the way he was tangled, seeking more friction.

 “Not yet, Yuuji,” you cooed at him, “Not yet, hold on for me, won’t you?”

 He groaned, low and deep as you slid up his chest, your hand still working him over, as you caught his lips in a messy kiss, one he eagerly dove into, clearly trying to distract himself from your teasing. You let him, enjoying the taste of yourself on his lips, one you were well accustomed to by now given how much he enjoyed eating you out.

 Threading your free hand through his hair, you tugged at it, knowing how much he enjoyed it as you allowed him to plunder your mouth. However, you didn’t let him distract you enough that you couldn’t tell when he got close to the edge again. You knew him too well for that, and instead pulled back again, leaving him untouched, his cock twitching desperately against his abs as he writhed searching for friction.

 A needy whine left his lips, the sound sending a bolt of heat through you. He was worked up and desperate, but the noises he was making were getting to you. You could feel an ache between your legs, your walls clenching around nothing, practically begging to be filled with your boyfriend’s thick cock.

 “Please,” he begged between kisses, completely unashamed at how desperate he sounded, brazen as ever even when he was needy, “please, please, please. I won’t be naughty this time. I’ll be nice!”

 “That’s what you always say,” you scolded lightly, even as you pulled away from his mouth, so you could resettle yourself over his hips giving in to both his need and your own. The two of you groaned in unison as you slowly sank down on his thick length, the feel of him inside you, stretching and filling you enough to make your breath catch in pleasure.

 “I mean it,” Terushima managed to gasp out as you began to slowly roll your hips, savoring the feel of him inside you, swiveling to ensure he hit all the right spots.

 “Then prove it, be nice for me now,” you challenged, “And don’t you dare cum until I do.”

 “Only if you let me see your tits, kitty,” he counter offered, breathlessly, brazen as ever.

 “I don’t think you’re really in a position to be making demands here,” you told him, amused at his audacity, purposefully clenching around him and earning a low moan of pleasure.

 “Please kitty?” he begged, dark eyes locked on yours, giving you the best pout, he could muster under the circumstances, “It’s Christmas, right? Season of giving?”

             You huffed at that, amused at the sheer cheek, but in the end, you caved, reaching around to undo your bra, and shrugging it off your shoulders, letting your breasts bounce free. Terushima’s eyes immediately went to them, tongue darting out, clearly desperate to taste you.

 Your hands immediately went up to them, figuring you might as well give him a show, squeezing and fondling them, in the way that felt best to you, pushing them up and together for him to see. Your fingers plucked at your nipples, teasing both him and yourself, your hips speeding up inadvertently, chasing your pleasure as you watched him watch you.

 His hips gave aborted, shallow thrusts, clearly desperately trying to match you and chase his own pleasure, making the muscles in this abdomen ripple and glisten in the light given off by the tiny bulbs on the string. Several red marks where the wire dug into his skin as he’d thrashed against his bonds had appeared crisscrossing his skin beautifully. His face was a mask of desire, want, and affection intertwined and clear for anyone to see.

 You honestly thought you’d never seen anything quite as appealing as he was in that moment, as you chased your pleasure, one of your hands sneaking down under his watchful gaze to toy with your clit as you rode him. The sight was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who you could clearly see was right on the edge. However, you were too worked up yourself to want to back down, instead pushing harder, chasing your own pleasure.

 You felt him begin to cum inside you, hot liquid splashing against your insides, but continued to ride him. Your own ending was close, though you purposefully pulled your hand away from your clit and your breasts, prolonging it as best you could.

 “T-too much, kitty, too much,” he whined at you, not that you were at all inclined to listen to him.

 “It’s your own fault, Yuuji,” you scolded breathlessly, “We had a deal, and you couldn’t keep up your end of it, which means you get to stay just like this until I cum.”

 “Fuck, fuck kitty, feels so good, it hurts, but it feels so good,” he moaned at you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched into fists. His hips shifted as much as they could under you, though whether he was trying to meet you, or shrink away you couldn’t tell.

 “I know you like it, Yuuji,” you teased, “You think you can cum again for me?”

 Your challenge made his eyes pop open, staring at you in surprise as you reached forward, your nails digging into his chest, earning a broken moan from your boyfriend, whose cock twitched inside you at the sensation. You tugged lightly at his nipples, conscious not to yank as you played with the piercings, the pleasure making him whine.

 He felt so good inside you, thick and hard and perfect, curved just enough to brush along the front of your walls with every thrust. The sound of your hips on his was utterly obscene, the sound filling the room along with a litany of gasping breaths and moans, mingling in the air between the two of you, sending fissions of desire along your spine.

 Your own end was getting close, as you chased after it, your movements becoming slightly sloppy as you rode him desperately. Your back arched as you swiveled your hips in just the right way to push you over the edge, your walls clamping down hard on his cock, milking him for all he was worth. A choked moan left your throat, as you felt him begin to cum once more, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer as you collapsed on his chest.

 You lay there for several moments catching your breath but it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as it usually was and you couldn’t stay for long. Instead you pushed yourself back up, wincing slightly at the way the bulbs had dug into your skin. Terushima looked just as wrung out as you felt, still flushed and panting as he watched you with clear adoration in his eyes.

 You pressed a quick affectionate kiss to his lips, and slowly began to carefully untangle him from the lights, managing to free his wrists and arms, so he could help you with the rest. He had a few deep red lines across his skin from where the wires had dug in slightly when he thrashed, and his chest, neck and thighs were awash with the marks you’d left in your wake. He looked well and truly fucked, and from the smirk on his face, he knew it too.

 “Next time, you get to be the one tied up,” he managed to tease, a cocky grin on his face as he carefully helped you pull yourself off his softening cock, pulling his t-shirt up over his head and tossing it to you to help clean yourself up with, uncaring about the mess.

 “Fine by me,” you agreed, more than willing to switch and let him take care of you, “But not with the lights next time, as it is, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at them the same way ever again.”

 He grinned at you, completely recovered and utterly unashamed as he waggled his eyebrows and asked, “Then how do you feel about tinsel, kitty?”

[raleighcarrera]

falling

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

a little while ago i posted about the idea of a soulmate au where the first words raleigh & cadence say to each other are tattooed on them their whole lives, and this... is that. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @emomoustache ; @natesewell ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @brycemaloliver ; @grigori-girl ; @dulceghernandez ; @bitchloveskcbaseball ; @withbeautyandrage 

~10.5k words | T

i.

the words appear in looping script on his thirteenth birthday, right on time. they curve along the inside of his bicep, innocently punctuated. what’s your name?

“you got lucky,” one of his older cousins tells him, later, when everyone in his family comes by for cake and to ooh and aah over his new tattoo, “you’ll be able to hide that with a shirt or a jacket easily.”

but raleigh sleeps shirtless every night for the next two years, even when it’s cold, so that the words are the last thing he sees with his head pillowed on his arm before he falls asleep, dreaming of the nameless, faceless person who will one day say them, wondering what their voice might sound like when they do.

ii.

she has a more difficult go of it.

being a thirteen year old girl would be miserable enough without the added pressure of the words that practically feel broadcast across her forehead, most of the time. everyone at school teases her constantly and ruthlessly: say something funny, cadence. go on. tell us a joke!

so it’s difficult not to resent the two words scrawled lazily across her collarbone and the person attached to them, especially in the mornings before school when she’s angrily rearranging her neckline and jewelry in the mirror while the bus idles outside.

very funny. she isn’t, really. she’s plenty of things -- determined and passionate and sensitive, definitely, but... no one’s ever found her particularly funny, before.

and no one seems to understand just how much the expectation of having to be funny, one day, is weighing on her, not even her parents, when she finally works up the courage to squeak out, “but how am i supposed to know what i should say?”

her mom laughs indulgently, like she’s already said something funny. her stomach sinks further.

“oh, sweetheart,” she tells her, “don’t worry, it won’t matter. you just will.”

iii.

people ask him about it. a lot.

it gets difficult to keep it a secret as things change around him, but raleigh’s careful to avoid slip-ups and paparazzi photos and he doesn’t say a word about it in interviews, even when he’s asked directly. he’s never seen without short sleeves on, at the very least, and he doesn’t even tell blair and cameron about it.

he sort of wishes he had, though, because as his life turns upside down and he adapts to a new country with a new set of rules and an industry that makes his head spin most of the time it starts to feel more and more confusing, those three words -- what’s your name?

everywhere he goes, thousands of girls blocking the street scream it at him. so how is it possible that whoever’s waiting to meet him doesn’t already know it?

and what does that mean for how the rest of his life is going to turn out? 

what if all of this -- the fame and the money and the notoriety -- is fleeting, and he’s only a few short years from being completely washed up and irrelevant? what if the day he’s meant to meet his person is so far away that he’ll be completely out of the spotlight, by then, with sunset skatepark playing reunion tours and him having spent most of his life alone?

it’s a lot of pressure, for someone who’s already working their way through such a serious adjustment, and most of the time it’s dizzying, thinking about the fact that there’s someone out there who’s supposed to be perfect for him, when everyone he meets seems determined to forget every word they know other than yes, so they can suck up to him as much as possible.

his teenage years fly by in a whirlwind of mistakes and regrets. there’s things he would’ve never dreamed would come his way, like world tours and more money than he can count and so many girls who know everything about him before they even sit down to dinner, but there’s more than that, too.

there’s all the ways the industry weakens his trust until it’s gone, all the people who try to use him for what he can do for them, all the times he stumbles until he finally learns to distance himself by cultivating a persona, by leaning into all the expectations of raleigh carrera and creating something so outlandish it doesn’t hurt as much when disaster follows him around because it’s supposed to.

he watches everything that surrounds him turn fake and plastic and puts his energy only into his music, coasting on the rest. the days are less exciting than when he first joined the band at fifteen; he’s a solo artist, now, and most of the time, he’s just trying to get through.

but chaos continues to follow him and eventually his notoriety is inescapable. his first solo album is self-titled and he somehow manages to get a trademark on the word raleigh, as if the name is now more his than anything that ever belonged to the state of north carolina, and part of him sort of expects the words stamped on his arm to change, once he hits one-hundred million followers on his social channels.

they never do, though, and when he’s alone, and the veneer he’s built up for everyone else fades away, he can’t help but to be fascinated by this person who just wants an answer to the question no one else would ever dare ask him.

iv.

college isn’t exactly the fresh start she was hoping it’d be.

she was a loser in high school and things don’t get much better for her even now that she’s with ‘her people’ at a performing arts university she can barely afford, even with two part-time jobs. 

shane is across the country at a proper state school with parties and a social life and lots of friends who aren’t her, and she’s failing her improv class, proving that she isn’t actually very funny at all. 

boys continue to not notice her and patrons in bars continue to turn away from her one-woman performance, her old acoustic guitar the only constant in a life that feels utterly, unbelievably pointless, most of the time.

it’s like she’s drifting through the days, putting her time in at college in the hopes that it’ll fortify her for what’s next -- her big break, the discovery that’ll get her out of that shitty small town she’s been trying to escape her entire life. she writes hundreds of songs about how lost she feels and hates every single one, dreaming of a time when things might be different and she doesn’t have to second-guess every single one of her decisions.

she doesn’t have much of a love life and tries not to think about that, either.

the person on the other side of those two words stuck on her collarbone is probably looking for someone self-confident, who knows who they are and is comfortable with that. they’re probably expecting to meet someone who has their life together, who, at the very least, has a plan.

they’re probably not expecting a talentless nobody screwup like her, someone who tries as hard as she can yet never seems to make anything work.

things don’t turn around after graduation, either. sure, she manages to find an apartment in a building that’s nice enough and uses the last of her savings on the deposit and trying to furnish it, but it’s only a few weeks of trying and failing to secure a regular paying gig performing before she’s back at smoothie star again, begging for her old job back.

and there’s nothing that makes her feel more like a failure than working the same shifts she had in high school. 

as she hums along to the radio on a random tuesday afternoon when the store is dead and there’s nothing to blend, she wonders what mr.-or-mrs. very funny would think if they walked in and saw her here -- twenty-three years old and flat broke, with a dead-end job and a one-bedroom apartment all she has to show for her very expensive and very useless bachelor’s degree.

that, and a notebook full of half-finished songs about relationships she could only ever dream about and an escape from the miserable small town she lives in that feels farther away with every day that passes.

she can’t imagine they’d be very impressed.

v.

raleigh’s life gets monotonous very quickly. the music takes a backseat to the scandals and for a while there’s a predictable pattern of cause trouble, clean up image, rinse and repeat.

there are girls in between the cycles to help him pass the time. some he likes well enough and some he despises, but for the most part his management gives their recommendations and he agrees and makes awkward conversation for an hour or two over brunch until it’s time to go trash something again.

things get particularly bad after one minor cruise ship hijacking incident. 

but in his defense, no one ever told him that breaking into the harbor and joy riding was a first-degree felony, worsened by the fact that he’d just so happened to crash the boat into the pier while he was trying to dock it. 

at least he’d been sober.

though a monumental fuck up like this felt sort of inevitable; everyone who knew him probably figured it was only a matter of time before he went too far. how could he not when he was always chasing the next high?

still, the image rehab tour that follows is far from what he’d call enjoyable. he has to cut off all his hair and play nice at industry parties and waste time standing around being seen at charity events he winds up just cutting checks for instead of helping out at.

on top of the miserable community service comes the pr bullshit his team so loves -- dozens of tv appearances back-to-back where he’s herded around all day like cattle, in and out of green rooms with crappy coffee and bad catering.

he has no idea that showing up to be a judge on one in a million is going to change his life. hungover and running late, he barely even makes it to the taping of the semi-finals, slinking inside the concert hall in middle-of-nowhere, usa with a headache and some choice words for whoever thought this was the best way to clean up his image.

fortunately, raleigh manages to make his way inside virtually unnoticed. his phone is buzzing angrily in his pocket -- undoubtedly his manager trying to encourage him to hair and makeup or some other absurdity -- but he ignores it in favor of ducking back behind the line near the auditorium doors, only barely catching the last few words of some catty confrontation between two contestants as he goes.

as one of the girls stomps away, he sees the other’s shoulders slump from behind. “guess i’m not making any friends,” she mutters.

it’s clearly said to no one -- not even to herself, really -- yet for some reason, he can’t stop himself from responding. “where i come from, that’s a good thing.”

the girl’s shoulders straighten, but she still doesn’t turn around. “i’m not trying to succeed at the cost of others.”

raleigh smirks, leaning back against the wall beside his guitar case. “you do realize you’re at a competition show, right?”

“of course, but...” her hair ruffles with what sounds like a huff. she’s still not facing him, staring off at where the other girl she’d been talking to had run away. “that doesn’t mean i’m not rooting for everyone here to share their music with the world.”

“what a sweet sentiment,” raleigh drawls sarcastically, almost feeling a little bad for her and her naivety. this poor girl is going to be eaten alive. “it won’t last.”

her body tenses, her shoulders tightening again. he can almost see smoke start to pour from her ears before she spins suddenly on her heel to face him. 

whatever sharp retort had been on the tip of her tongue gets swallowed with a blink as soon as their eyes meet. something like electricity crackles in the space between them, strengthening the invisible pull he’d felt when he first stopped behind her. instead, she only asks, “what’s your name?”

vi.

the man in front of her snorts. “very funny.”

a smile tugs at her lips. “very funny, that’s a weird name.” this is unlike her -- the quick comeback, the flirting. usually being face-to-face with a guy as good looking as the one talking to her now made her want to wither away and die, but something about the stranger standing before her sets her instantly at ease. “so, are you gonna tell me, or not?”

now it’s his turn to blink at her. a hand lifts to rub at his jaw. “huh. you really don’t know who i am, do you?”

cadence’s eyes narrow as she assess him. there is something vaguely familiar about that crooked grin, she’s sure of it. 

at the very least, it’s an excuse to stare at him, and she does, moving her eyes slowly over the tattoos poking out over his jacket collar, the line of stubble on his sharp jaw, the glint of mischief in his eyes.

her helpless gaping is interrupted by a sudden shrill scream. “oh. my. god! is that raleigh carrera?!”

everything clicks at once. as a wild group of girls corner him, she realizes where she’s seen that smile before -- on just about every tabloid cover known to man, plastered all over convenience stores and the internet with headlines about his latest bender. in fact, she’s pretty sure he was just in the news for something similar -- crashing a yacht or something else ridiculous like that, something that only someone as rich as raleigh carrera could have accomplished. 

then she realizes what he’d said to her, as soon as she’d turned to look him in the eyes. very funny. 

her heart stops. all she can do is stare wide-eyed at him as he dispels the girls clamoring for a selfie, snapping back to the present when he waves one large hand in front of her face. 

“sorry -- what?”

“i said, what’s your name? it only seems fair, now that you know mine, and all.”

“cadence,” she answers numbly, “i’m -- um, i’m used to your hair being longer.”

“cadence,” raleigh repeats, smiling at her, “so you do know who i am.”

“what do the magazines call you again? r&b’s time bomb? puerto rico’s hottest export? you’re kind of notorious.” she blinks at him, then admits, “i’ve heard your songs.”

“seen the tabloid covers too, eh?” the expression on his face suggests he’s almost proud of them.

this is surreal.

“didn’t you crash a yacht or something?” she asks, brain whirring into overdrive as she tries to process what’s happening. he doesn’t seem to have realized it yet, which gives her a moment to gather her thoughts, something that feels impossible when she can’t push the way he’d scoffed very funny out of her mind. 

“or something. insurance paid out a couple million in property damage, but...” raleigh trails off, brow suddenly furrowing. he stares at her silently for a beat too long, then slowly turns a dull red. “hey, what’d you say earlier, again?”

cadence wets her dry lips, trying not to panic. stay calm, she silently coaches herself. raleigh carrera is not your long-awaited soulmate and you are not doing this in line to audition for one in a million. “i said -- what’s your name? and then you said...”

oh god, this is happening. her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she fidgets with the neckline of her top, tugging it to the side so raleigh can see the two words on her collarbone. 

“very funny,” he mutters, “oh, jesus fucking christ. you can’t be serious.”

“me?” she demands, “you’re the one who --”

“next up,” calls a voice suddenly, cutting sharply through their argument, “contestant #9,276.”

her blood runs cold as she realizes that’s the number she’s wearing pinned to her shirt. she can feel herself start to sweat; how the fuck is she supposed to perform like this? she wants to throw up. why did this have to happen to her now? this was her shot -- her one fucking chance --

“hey, easy.” there’s suddenly two strong hands on either side of her shoulders, and she startles as raleigh stares at her from up close, closer than he was just a moment ago. “relax, okay? you’re gonna be fine. you’ve got this.”

“but --” she starts, then realizes her mind is racing too quickly to even articulate what she wants to say. she settles for shaking her head, eyes wide and panicked. “i can’t just -- oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

“here,” raleigh directs, “take my guitar. prince gave it to me as a birthday present.”

prince?! she mouths hysterically to herself, as he flips the latch on his case open and pulls out the instrument. “how is this supposed to help me?”

“just trust me,” he says, giving her a gentle nudge towards the auditorium, “now go.”

she does, stumbling forward with the most expensive piece of equipment she’s ever held in her hands in her life alongside her, drawing in a deep breath as she makes her way onto the stage.

she can do this.

everything else will have to come after.

vii.

the thing is -- she’s talented. exceptionally so. 

he can tell she’s a little nervous, but maybe that’s just because he’s used to looking out for that sort of thing; he could probably recognize it more easily than the average person would. it probably has nothing to do with who they are, how he notices the nuances in her body language...

her belt is impressive. her voice is stunning, clear and uniquely melodic. his guitar looks spectacular in her hands, and cadence plays it like she’s been practicing on it her entire life. 

he tries his best to look nonchalant, feet kicked up onto the seat in front of him, but when she locks eyes with him from the stage he knows he hasn’t succeeded. raleigh’s breath catches, and he stares back at her, transfixed by the way her dainty hands cradle the neck of the guitar and strum the strings, how her lips purse around the long, emotional high note at the end of the song’s chorus.

she’s really very pretty. 

he’d probably be lying to himself if he said it doesn’t make him a little bit jealous and uncomfortable, watching how she and avery fawn over each other when she’s finished. he’s probably a much better suited match for her, clean cut and pristine as he is. 

he wonders if she’s disappointed that it’s him -- that it’s now, when she’s clearly on the cusp of something great all on her own.

it’s a lot to think about, and so he dips out of the auditorium before she finishes up, rushing outside with his heart pounding. it’s not until he’s halfway through the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket that raleigh starts to relax even an iota, and of course that’s when the stage door he’d left propped swings open wide and cadence’s sneakers hit the asphalt beside his boots.

“uh, you can’t just leave me with this thing,” she says, apropos of nothing, and as he stares at her he realizes she’s talking about his guitar, which she’s holding in one hand like it’s a dead fish. “this costs more than everything in my apartment combined, i’m sure.”

he shakes his head at her, laughing as his fingers flick ash from the cigarette he’s holding. “no way -- you should keep it. you two looked perfect together.”

she hesitates, looking down at the instrument again. he can see in her eyes that she’s torn; it’s obvious she knows the right thing to do is to refuse a generous gift from a stranger, but she wants to keep it, and already his mind is racing as he considers what else he could give her that would excite her like that -- a private flight, a tour of his penthouse, a million dollars. 

“are you sure?” cadence asks, without looking at him, and the hesitancy in her voice makes him realize how unsure she really is. she’s the one who’s wondering if he’s disappointed in her.

he licks his suddenly dry lips and drops what’s left of his cigarette to the ground, finding he doesn’t actually need the rest of it, anymore. “positive.”

viii.

they don’t actually get to spend a lot of time together, while she’s filming. she has to focus and it seems like she’s always busy, somehow -- not that she sees raleigh very often in the first place.

the days are spent rehearsing with avery and cramming in as much mentoring as possible, and when she can pull herself away from fiona’s lessons on image to get home at a reasonable hour she collapses into bed pretty much immediately, out like a light from the whirlwind of the day and hardly even aware enough to dream.

but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about him. she does, especially on the rare occasions she manages to catch a glimpse of raleigh walking around in the studio, or on one memorable evening she stays late in the auditorium to bang on the piano keys of the beautiful, enviable baby grand on set and startles to find him leaning in the doorway, watching her play.

it’s all a blur and wildly difficult to process; just when she thinks she has a grip on things she remembers the private moments she’s had with raleigh and her emotions tumble to pieces again as she lets the weight of the implications of what’s going on between them crush her completely.

one moment sticks out on her as being particularly worrisome, insofar as how it bodes for the rest of her life. 

it feels like something significant from the moment raleigh offers to help her warm up; they’ve hardly had a moment alone together in days and she still has absolutely no idea how she’s supposed to talk to him or what she should say, but for some reason the conversation flows easily and she hardly has to think about the (no doubt incredibly stupid-sounding) words coming out of her mouth.

“you’re going to kill it,” raleigh says finally, once they’ve worked through all the exercises in his arsenal, “you really don’t need my help.”

never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine someone like him would say something like that to her. “you think?”

“i know it,” he answers confidently, shrugging his shoulders like it’s that simple. “and you should, too.”

there’s a moment of silence where they just stand there staring at each other, ignoring the restless murmuring of the crowd outside that’s waiting for him to slip into his seat at the judge’s table. she’s effortlessly lost in raleigh’s eyes, so fixated on the intensity of his gaze that she doesn’t realize he’s leaning in closer until it’s too late.

“insurance policy,” he mutters, before he kisses her, hands cupping her face gently. 

for a split second, she stands frozen, shocked totally still. then, her brain reboots enough to propel her into motion, and cadence gets with the program enough to wind her arms around raleigh’s waist and pull him closer and kiss him back, until her heart’s lurched up into the throat she’d just been warming up, pounding relentlessly.

they make out until the roar of the crowd is deafening -- until it’s impossible not to acknowledge it any longer. 

of course raleigh’s a life-ruiningly good kisser. why wouldn’t he be? why should any of this be easy?

it’s only a few simple touches, but raleigh’s mouth leaves her dizzy and lightheaded when she’s supposed to be concentrating on performing, and, independently of the way she’s blinking at him in stupid shock, cadence already knows she’ll never be able to kiss anyone else ever again without thinking about him.

“i have to get out there,” she gasps between desperate presses of their lips against each other, grasping ineffectively at his clothes while his fingers tug her hair out of shape.

“be late,” he suggests, “it always works for me.” 

but she’s not him. she’s not like him -- they have nothing in common. they come from different worlds; they’re two completely opposite people.

and yet every minute with raleigh is like coming up for air after being underwater for years, like the knots of guilt and shame and awkward embarrassment she’s carried around for her entire life without understanding why she has them are slowly starting to undo themselves, unlaced by his careful fingers.

they make it out there. eventually.

before she knows it, confetti’s raining down from the ceiling and falling all over her, and she locks eyes with raleigh from across the room to find his lips pulled into a genuinely affectionate grin -- lips that she’d just kissed for the first time a fucking hour ago and, seriously, what is her life now -- his eyes bright and excited. 

things just keep getting weirder and weirder, but the way they’re beaming at each other like idiots in a room full of thousands, broadcast on national television, too, makes her think things might be pretty great, too.

ix.

it sort of takes them a long time to getting around to talking about it -- the soulmate thing.

it’s not that he doesn’t try. he does, but she’s got a lot going on, these days: a big move and a new record deal and days filled with songwriting and nights out being seen. he’s still on his image cleanup tour, while she’s at it, so his fake smile stays fixed on his face throughout another boring week of restaurant openings and charity events and talkshow appearances before he finally gets the chance to spend some time with her again.

they text here and there, but nothing pans out until the stars align and they manage to slip out of the back door of a nightclub unnoticed together after a night of dancing too close for the comfort of her publicist while avery and the others cause a commotion at the front entrance to distract the press.

she goes back to his penthouse with him. he can’t remember the last time he brought a girl back to his apartment just to talk, and especially not one who spent the better part of the evening in a sparkly minidress grinding against him. 

but here they are.

“so -- how’s the city treating you?” raleigh asks, pouring them both a drink he doesn’t want from the bar cart in the corner of the room for something to do with his hands.

cadence shrugs from where she’s perched on the edge of his sofa, tugging at the hem of her dress. “good, i guess. it’s honestly all kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he nods, passing her one of the glasses in his hands and taking a seat on the ottoman in front of her, close enough to see her face in perfect clarity but still maintaining a distance that he hopes is respectful. “i know what you mean. when i first came here after joining sunset skatepark everything felt so... huge.”

“totally,” cadence answers quickly, nodding in a way that’s almost aggressive. “i mean, there’s so much pressure to deliver an album right away, but i want it to be perfect, and the studio is so different from, like, writing songs in my room at home, and i... i guess i feel kind of homesick, but -- not for my hometown. i hated that place.” there’s hesitancy in her gaze when she asks, “do you know what i mean?”

“yeah,” raleigh says again stupidly, because the truth is -- he knows exactly what she means. cadence has just articulated something he could never quite put into words better than he’d even thought the sentiments to himself. “it’s like... nostalgia for something you don’t even want.”

“exactly,” she breathes emphatically, and then they’re kissing again, and she’s in his lap on the ottoman and he definitely brought her here to talk, for sure, but is it really so terrible if they get a little sidetracked on the way to their destination?

well -- they wind up making out for hours. so, there’s that.

it’s not part of the plan but it’s a hell of a side quest, memorizing the shape and feel of her with his hands while her lips pull every last bit of breath from his lungs, until he’s lightheaded and dizzy in a way no other girl has ever made him, before. it’s to the point where when he finally finds it within himself to push her away, he’s uncharacteristically nervous -- something that’s never happened to him before, not even on the night he lost his virginity.

“i really did ask you over to talk,” he says, voice hoarse.

cadence licks her lips and then beams at him, eyes sparkling. “i know.” she shuffles delicately back onto the couch, lingering in his lap for only a moment before pulling away entirely. he stuffs his hands under his thighs to stop himself from reaching out for her again. “sorry i haven’t been around more.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” raleigh shakes his head. “i should be apologizing to you, i feel like... i should be the one who’s around, to help you with all of this. or at least -- i want to be. i don’t know if i’ll be any good at it.” 

he blinks, surprised by his own honesty. he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but the words came up before he was cognizant of them and now they’re out there, and there’s no taking them back -- especially with the way she’s looking at him, all soft and sweet and happy.

“well, you don’t have to be good at it,” cadence murmurs, reaching out for his wrists and tugging his hands free so she can interlock their fingers effortlessly. they fit together like puzzle pieces. “you just have to be you.”

x.

her budding relationship with one of the biggest names in r&b doesn’t have much time to bud at all before it’s rudely plucked from the plant and stepped on.

she finds herself blinking at fiona in confusion as the words take some time to process. “you want me to do what?”

xi.

raleigh balks at his manager, shaking his head emphatically. “no,” he spits out, “absolutely not.”

xii.

“cadence, it’s not a big deal,” fiona tells her, very nearly rolling her eyes. “everyone does it. you go on a few dates, play up the relationship for some photos, social media eats it up -- boom, you’re a star.”

“i don’t know,” she answers hesitantly, mind drifting back to the photographers that have already been following her around, screaming about avery when she ducks into the car with him. things with raleigh are... new, and complicated, and do they really need to add public scrutiny into the mix as well? “i just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“it’s a great idea,” fiona sighs, shaking her head. “all our focus groups agree. the label thinks it’s best, what with your single taking so long to put out.” she opens her mouth to protest -- it’s not like she’s dragging her feet on purpose -- but barely has a second to get a word out before fiona continues, “besides, raleigh does this all the time.”

her teeth bite at her bottom lip uncertainly. “he does?”

“of course. chantal clearwater? she was a pictagram model when they met, and now she’s opening shows at paris fashion week. it’s just business.”

it’s not, though. it could never be just anything, for reasons no one else knows about except the two of them, for reasons she’ll never tell. “well... what did raleigh say about it?”

xiii.

“i said no, frank.” he’s annoyed, now, and his manager knows it, raleigh’s arms folded across his chest and his eyes set into a glare. “n. o. no.”

“and i hear you, but is it really the end of the world? she’s exactly what we’re going for, and i know you already get along --”

“which is exactly why i don’t want to do this. so pick someone else. anyone else.” he’s not going to let his label turn her into one of the girls he has to be seen with for fake photos and mutually beneficial positive press. 

for so many years, he’s watched people fake feelings and use each other -- willingly participated in the using himself, too, more times than he can count. he never cared about any of it before.

but being with cadence doesn’t feel fake, and he doesn’t ever want it to. and he knows that if he agrees to this, everything he enjoys about spending time with her will disappear in favor of the ugly, plastic decay that’s eaten away at so many of his personal and professional relationships before. organic, genuine time with her will become strolls near celebrity hotspots, angling just right to help the cameras get the perfect shot. he’ll show up to support her at shows because her publicist called him, and their time together will become some manufactured narrative meant to push their labels’ agenda, until six months down the line they don’t even recognize themselves or what might’ve been if they’d done things a different way.

“look, there isn’t anyone else. her team’s already agreed to it, and i’ve got brunch set up for sunday. all you have to do is play nice for two fucking months, raleigh. is that so impossible for you?”

yes. already he feels a deep-seated desire to go somewhere and break something, to tear through the flower beds in central park with his motorcycle and wink at the cameras when they catch up to him.

instead, he storms out of the office he’s in, and into the sunlight, tugging the hood on his jacket up and melting into the crowd on the corner so he can be as anonymous as possible when he picks up his phone and calls cadence.

“hey raleigh,” she chirps as soon as she picks up, sounding far too cheerful for someone who’s likely had an equally as miserable early morning meeting on a friday. “guessing you heard the news?”

“can’t i just call you to say hi?” he grumbles, ducking his head as he strolls through the intersection with the mob of people crowded along fifth ave, turning down the next side street so he’s alone again, with no one following, just like that. 

“well, you can,” she teases, and some of the anger he’s carrying around with him fades, dissipating into nothing and evaporating like smoke. “but you’re not.”

“no, i’m not,” he agrees with a sigh, shaking his head. “you sound surprisingly cool with it, though.”

“should i not be?” cadence laughs, but he can detect a thread of nervousness in her tone. “i already want to hang out with you. we have the same friends and work in the same industry. we’re... probably going to go on dates anyway, so... how hard can this be?”

god. she has absolutely no idea. part of him thinks it’d be cruel to burst her bubble, but he should warn her, shouldn’t he? 

she sounds so optimistic about it, though. it’s hard to feel anything but hopeful when her voice turns up like that at the end. in the back of his mind, there’s a voice that’s not his suggesting maybe this time, things will be different. 

surely he knows better than to think something as ridiculous as that, though, right? 

“well, i guess it’ll be interesting, at least,” he muses, slowing his steps by the entrance to the subway. 

he’s going to lose his signal just as soon as he heads underground, and he’s not quite ready for that, yet.

xiv.

time with raleigh flies by. 

it doesn’t feel like they’re fake-dating -- they do everything she hopes he’d want to do with her anyway, like go out to eat at fancy restaurants and take walks through the park and bounce melodies for songs off of each other, facetiming late at night from their apartments or on the days he visits her and micah in the studio. 

he’s by her side for the release of her first single, and her first music video, and through it all, raleigh plays the role of the doting partner perfectly, holding her purse on the red carpet and feeding her paella at a strategically-placed outdoor table and fetching her coffee order when she’s too busy to stop writing for even just five minutes.

in the blink of an eye, it’s time to put out her album -- just like that. 

raleigh’s perfectly charming through that process, too. he shows up on time, says all the right things, and keeps a drink in her hand all evening long, so that when she’s finally done making the rounds and can enjoy herself after the entertainment and the networking and the schmoozing she’s giggly and touchy, doing her best to steal him away from the crowd.

“what were your other relationships like?” she asks, half expecting him to brush her off, though he’s always indulged her before. they’ve never really gotten this personal. “fake or... otherwise.”

“they’ve all been fake,” he shrugs, “and i can say with confidence that you’re the best one i’ve ever had.”

“really?” cadence smiles, chin propped up on her hand as she leans over the bar. “be honest. what did you really think, when you realized it was me?”

“what?” he asks, pushing the empty rocks glass in his hands around on the bar top, “you mean this thing?” he gestures at his arm, covered in expensive, custom tom ford, and the tattoo laying innocently beneath it.

“uh huh,” she confirms, “‘cause i was totally like oh shit.”

raleigh laughs, loud and wild, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the party around them. no one nearby is paying them even an ounce of attention, and it’s fun, to be anonymous at her own party, invisible to everyone in the room except for him. “i can imagine. i wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

cadence shakes her head -- that’s not what she’d meant. but before she can protest, he rolls his glass between his palms and thoughtfully continues, “i guess i was a little surprised. it felt like i’d been waiting forever to meet you, so part of me was like, fuck, we’re doing this now? and i never thought it’d be someone so...”

“boring?” she suggests, eyebrows arching when raleigh’s expression immediately twists into one of disagreement, his nose scrunching up with distaste.

“no,” he huffs, “so... good, i guess.” she stares at him as he reaches for one of the waiting tequila shots on the bar, pulling it away from the line he’d set up for the crowd he’d been with before she’d tugged him to the side to talk, leaving the drinks untouched. raleigh knocks the shot back -- no salt, no lime. he’s had twice as many drinks as she has, and she’s definitely feeling them -- she has no idea how he’s even still upright, no worse for wear other than a few slurred words here and there. “but you just are. it’s like every song i’ve ever written was about you, and i just didn’t know it yet.”

the noise of the party fades in favor of the pounding of her heart, loud like a kick drum in her ears. she bites her lip and stares at him, watching as raleigh shakes his head at himself, dazed. “you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning in a little across the bar. 

raleigh’s quiet for so long she has to wonder whether or not he actually heard her. just as she clears her throat and opens her mouth to repeat herself even louder, he nods, reaching across the bar and squeezing her hand before dragging her back over to the line of tequila shots waiting for them to enjoy.

the night is a blur after that, and there’s patches of the evening that are fuzzy in her memory the next morning, but she knows she’ll never forget the gentle kiss goodnight raleigh gives her when he helps her stumble into the car back to her apartment at dawn.

xv. 

things go really well, until they don’t. 

they have a blissful six months together with more fun than he’s ever had with anyone. slowly, he learns every single thing about cadence and returns her openness with honesty of his own -- honesty that feels strange and unfamiliar but weirdly thrilling, in a way, made easier every time one of his stories pulls a laugh or smile from her. 

it seems unnatural, having a honeymoon period that goes on for so long. in the entire time they’re dating, he doesn’t destroy a single thing -- doesn’t even want to, which is the weirdest part of it all. 

there are some moments that catch him completely off guard. more than a few times, he hardly even recognizes himself, she turns him into such a different person. 

he doesn’t hate it, though -- just the opposite, in fact. raleigh realizes he’s really starting to like the carefree, far from jaded person he is when he’s with her, though it only hits him for real when he’s watching her storm away from him on liberty island, eyes fixed on the angry sway of her hips.

he stews on it on the long ride back to his penthouse; the game had, admittedly, been starting to wear on him. but he’d gone along with it because it was supposed to benefit her -- he’d agreed to the stupid public breakup and following the rules and not seeing cadence in public for the foreseeable future because it was what she wanted, and -- frankly, it felt like a stupid fucking decision.

not that it lasts long. he starts texting her just as soon as he’s done washing electralite out of his hair and doesn’t make it more than twenty minutes when they first see each other again at the moda gala before he’s sneaking off with her, ducking under the velvet rope that demarcates the planetarium as ‘off limits’ with her hand tucked neatly in his.

“maybe this is better,” cadence muses between sips of her drink, her eyes on one of the stupid glass exhibits he couldn’t possibly care less about. “now we can just be together -- no pressure. our relationship is ours again.”

their relationship. is that what this is? they’ve spent a lot of time talking about who they are and what they like and don’t like, kissing and touching and holding hands. throughout it all, he’s done his best not to buy into the ‘soulmate’ bullshit too heavily, but over the last few months it’s been hard to deny that there’s a reason he was meant to meet her, that she’s been changing him from the inside out.

“what’s on your mind?” she asks, turning towards him with an open look of genuine curiosity on her face, like she really wants to know. 

“it’s nothing,” raleigh answers at first, reflexively, like he has so many times before. no one has ever really wanted to know. but cadence’s eyebrows arch, and she waits, patiently silent, and then the words tumble out of him. “it’s just that -- my whole life, i’ve watched other people use each other. so many people are just interested in the concept of celebrity status. so i played the game. never trusting anyone.” 

he shrugs. a hand lifts to rub his jaw, and he looks back to meet her gaze just in time to see the little smile playing at her lips, like she already knows what he’s about to say. “but it’s different, with you. you make me not want to be that person anymore. when i’m with you, it’s the only time i feel anything real.”

“raleigh,” she murmurs, her expression flickering before her face does something that cracks his chest wide open. her eyes go all shiny and sparkly and her cheeks crease with a grin, and the way she laughs is so ridiculously joyful the hand he has stuffed in his pocket curls into a fist to stop him from doing something stupid. “i feel the same way. i just... this whole thing, i know it doesn’t always -- work out, but... with you i really want it to. i’ve never felt this way before about anyone, and i think...” 

there’s a pause as her lips purse thoughtfully, and then she says the words that make it impossible for him to do anything but close the distance between them and kiss her over and over again: “i think even without this tattoo it’d be you, anytime, anywhere.”

xvi.

being raleigh carrera’s (real, confirmed, 100%-authentic) girlfriend feels almost too good to be true.

raleigh is... everything she never knew she wanted in a boyfriend, wrapped up into one tall, dark and handsome package, with a loud, goofy laugh and a deep, sexy voice that sends a shiver down her spine whenever his mouth so much as lingers near her ear for too long. 

it turns out that, despite their differing status in the industry and her initial assumptions that they came from two completely different worlds, they’re actually on the same page about pretty much everything. she finds that the pressure of the word she’d held in such high regard for so long -- soulmate -- disappears entirely where he’s concerned because being with raleigh is just fun. 

there’s motorcycle rides and boat trips and hours up late talking about everything and nothing; facetime calls with his mom and shopping trips where the stores are kept open late for them so they can shop alone, in an empty boutique, like every teen movie she’d ever watched growing up.

there’s late nights in the studio and either of their apartments where they both noodle around on their guitars and improvise half-hearted duets, content to just work in the same orbit as each other for as long as possible.

raleigh’s texting one night on the couch in her living room when she plucks out the melody to who i’ll be on her old acoustic, sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

he looks up before the first verse is over. “what’s that one? it sounds good.”

“oh -- just a song i wrote in college,” cadence hums, already downplaying it as she lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “i got stuck, never finished it. ellis made me sell the progress for some other writer to finish.”

he frowns, pushing up onto his elbow. his phone is tossed carelessly somewhere among the couch cushions. “why?”

“because i was taking too long with the odyssey,” she sighs. “it was kind of my only option. it’s weird, though -- thinking about someone singing something that was so personal to me.”

“play me what you had so far,” he says, and so she does, hesitating for only a second before strumming the chords, singing the lines she had slowly. 

when she’s done, she looks up to find that raleigh’s slid to the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees as he leans in as close as he can get with the coffee table in his way. “okay -- that was beautiful. you should finish it.”

she shakes her head, setting her guitar down. “i can’t. they already sold it. and even if i wanted to... i don’t know how it ends.”

raleigh’s legs spread in invitation and she stands to walk around to the couch, slipping into his lap and leaning back against his chest. his hands are tender as he rubs them across her shoulders, sliding up her back before one lifts to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear, his pointer finger pushing her glasses up her nose affectionately. “maybe one day you can write something else with the same theme,” he suggests, and she tries her best to smile even though it feels like a dream lost, somehow -- a ridiculous thought, given that she pretty much has everything she ever wanted, but the way she feels all the same.

“maybe,” she sighs, the kiss he drops to her forehead a bandaid on a wound that’s been doing its best to heal for what feels like her entire life.

xvii.

he’s never brought a date to the vinyls before. 

there’s been plenty of after parties he’s stumbled out of with a girl on his arm, sure, but cadence is the first person to sit by his side during the ceremony, and he’s surprised by how much he likes having her next to him.

then again, he’s self aware enough to realize he’d like being pretty much anywhere, with her.

still -- the awards are a lot less boring with her around to kiss and stroke his hair and make snide commentary about the rest of the attendees with, and when she squeezes his hand goodbye to rush backstage and get ready for her performance he misses her instantly.

what happens next makes him endlessly regretful of the fact that he’s not backstage with her.

he rushes around just as soon as he can, pushing his way through security and frantically scrambling technical assistants to find her exactly where he thought he might, between ellis knight and fiona, looking lost with her head in her hands.

she seems equal parts broken and pissed in a way that tugs at his heartstrings and makes him a little bit proud. raleigh shoves through the crowd to get to her and slips an arm around her waist. he’s only caught the tail end of the conversation they’re all having, but he knows enough to know that “you can’t bench her. that’s bull.”

ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter how much they stomp their feet. she’s under contract, their hands are tied, and he walks away seething at the unfairness of it all, this shitty industry that’s turned on her when all she ever wanted to do was make music.

she cries in the car back to her apartment to pack her things. there’s no way he’s letting her go home to iowa or idaho or indiana without him, and he barks at his team over the phone until they agree to move his appearances around so he can make that happen, his free hand clasped tightly in hers until he physically has to let her go so she can unlock her front door with trembling fingers.

cadence tosses clothes haphazardly onto the bed and he silently and precisely moves to folds each piece for her, until she gives up and sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, defeated. 

wide eyes filled with tears lock onto his, and he watches her bottom lip wobble before she says, “you really don’t have to do this. come with me, i mean. i know i messed up, and -- you have so much else going on. i don’t expect you to --”

“i’m coming,” he states firmly, setting the sweatpants in his hand down and stepping closer to her, sitting beside cadence on her bed. “what happened tonight was fucked up, cadence -- it shouldn’t have happened at all. i’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“but --”

“but nothing,” he says, and before the words have even left his mouth she’s falling into his arms with a soft sound of gratitude, mashing her face into his chest as she sniffles.

“thank you,” cadence mumbles, sounding so unsure of herself it makes him wonder if she’s ever had anyone show up for her when it mattered most before, or if that’s yet another thing they unfortunately have in common. 

xviii.

raleigh tries his best to cheer her up, but it’s still hard, feeling like she’s let the entire world down. her fans. herself.

there’s something embarrassing about showing raleigh her apartment back home and the person she was before she met him -- all the places she felt most uncertain and where she experienced some her worst self-doubt, the room that still has the smoothie star apron hung up in the closet.

but there’s also something exciting, about being totally off the grid with him. no one knows they’re here and there’s no paparazzi waiting to snap photos of them -- especially given the fact that they don’t leave her building for the first three days she spends moping around while raleigh orders all the takeout he can get his hands on.

it sort of reminds her of when they first met, and there was nothing to do but learn about each other, though now there’s a familiarity to him she relies on, a unique raleigh-ness that feels more like home than this shitty apartment ever did.

still, she struggles, and the weight of the world doesn’t let up until zadie shows up with her fanmail and avery does his best to make her smile with a beach trip and some fancy new toys and a day in the sun with a drink in her hand.

eventually it’s just her and raleigh again, out by the fire after everyone else has gone to bed. her stomach is full of s’mores and her cheeks hurt from smiling for the first time in weeks, and it’s a shock when she realizes she feels content, even after everything that’s happened -- almost as though things will all work out for the better no matter what happens next.

“oh my god,” she gasps suddenly, cutting off what raleigh had been saying as her eyes light up and she hastens to stand. “i’ve gotta -- i need to -- oh my god.”

just like that, she knows how her song ends.

recording it is a process, but raleigh calls in some favors and gets them studio time and agrees to be featured on the song even though she knows he’s still working through a sound change that he feels unsure about.

but it means a lot to her, having him crammed in the booth at her side, singing into the same mic. they sound almost unbelievably good together, too, raleigh’s harmonies on the words that finally resolve that lost feeling she’s been harboring her entire life making something deep within her wriggle up happily, wagging its proverbial tail.

the fact that raleigh remains by her side throughout the entire fight with her label, the long nights of despair agonizing over what her next move is going to be and even the moment where they decide to break into indio, of all places, means more to her than she can ever say. she feels markedly less nervous about the entire thing every time she turns her head to the side and sees him, right there next to her -- right where he’s been this entire time -- smiling encouragingly and squeezing her hand hard in his.

though it’s not until they’re up at the top of the ferris wheel that she realizes how precious what she has really is. it’s not until he looks her dead in the eye and says, with that same soft earnestness he’s awarded her since they first met at the one in a million auditions that feel quite literally like a hundred years ago, “cadence, everything you want is on the other side of fear. and i want you to have everything you want,” that she truly understands that’s what between them is special and rare.

not because of any tattoos, or any preconceived destiny. not because of who they are and their status and the fact that people take pictures of them when they’re out in public together.

but because of this -- all these real moments of genuine connection they’ve been fortunate enough to share since fate threw them into each other’s paths.

“raleigh, i love you.” the words are said easily, not a moment’s hesitation behind them. 

just before she crosses over in the cart to kiss him until they’re both breathless, raleigh gifts her the brightest smile he has and says, “i love you, too.”

xix.

the night is a blur from the moment he first takes the stage with his old bandmates to when he finally finds himself alone with cadence in a rundown old motel a few miles out from the festival in the desert.

he can’t recall ever being so happy, so of course he doesn’t remember every agonizing detail of the evening, though he does know he doesn’t feel the need to have a single beer with cadence around, twirling barefoot in the grass and giggling when she leads him up to the room they’ve borrowed.

afterwards, when they’re sitting on the roof together in the blanket they dragged off the bed, he reflects on the wild year they’ve had with her in his arms, fingertips tracing the delicate very funny scrawled across cadence’s collarbone.

he feels... free. completely liberated. like there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get to him, now, like he’s untouchable, like he doesn’t care about a single thing that happens after today and how perfect things have been. 

“i think i’m actually freer than i’ve ever been,” he muses, where his lips are pressed into her hair, “i can take my sound in any direction i want.”

“i’m so happy for you, raleigh,” cadence returns genuinely, tilting her head back so he can see her upside-down smile. 

his arms tighten around her. “i’m so excited for what you’re gonna be doing, too. i’m excited for us.”

“yeah,” she sighs, “who knows what’s next, right? now that ellis let me out of my deal...”

he can hear the thread of worry undercutting the words. he shakes his head, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “you can worry about that tomorrow. for tonight, just enjoy the comeback. what you did out there was amazing.”

“what we did,” she corrects, and he blinks up the stars as he realizes she’s right -- they’re a we now. he’s part of a we again, after being on his own for so long.

the phrases bounce around in his head, unfamiliar and foreign. me and my girlfriend, he thinks to himself, cadence and i. we’re going to be late. we’ll be away that weekend. we just started watching that show. we, we, we. 

“what we did was amazing,” raleigh amends, the words slow to come out but feeling right all the same. “whatever we do next will be amazing.”

“absolutely,” cadence confirms, with conviction, like it’s something she believes wholeheartedly.

and though he has no idea what to expect or what it might be, a large part of him is inclined to agree with her -- she’s been right about everything else so far.

xx.

one year later, she’s finishing a set in berlin, the last stop on a sprawling european tour that had taken she, avery, micah and raleigh across the continent for dozens of performances to sold-out crowds of thousands screaming her lyrics back to her. 

if her contract with overknight had been a dream come true, signing to wilshere records is heaven incarnate. cadence’s trip through the u.k. with her new label is proof enough, and the chance to meet new fans with new stories to share that she could connect with is one she’s taken to with enthusiasm, the experience made all the sweeter by the fact that her favorite people get to be by her side throughout it all.

berlin’s crowd is one of the best, and she fully expects to end the tour on a high note, head banging to the last few notes of ‘knockout’ before raleigh’s planned entrance for the last song of the night, so they can sing the duet that’s closed out every show they’ve had on the tour together. 

when he struts out with his guitar, waving and grinning at the crowd, she can’t stop herself from smiling stupidly at him, just like she does every time she sees him join her on stage, every time she realizes that this is their life, that this is something they do every night, now.

though her grin falters when raleigh pauses in front of his microphone and asks, “berlin, do you mind if i talk a little bit before i start the song? no? cool, because i’ve got an important question to ask.”

her eyes widen. cadence’s mouth drops open and doesn’t close throughout the entire speech raleigh gives her, even though thousands of people in the crowd are filming every moment of her gaping like an idiot, snapping close-ups of her shocked face.

the arena practically vibrates with screams when he drops to his knee, popping the box in his hand open so she can see the giant diamond ring nestled inside of it. 

“so?” raleigh asks, and cadence can just barely hear him in her in-ears with the way her heart is beating frantically up into her throat, as wild as the crowd’s raging around them and then some. “whaddya say, babe? will you marry me?”

as if the answer could ever be anything but yes. she nods, laughing as she launches herself into his arm for a kiss that’s too grand to be given on stage, though that’s hardly going to stop her -- not tonight, at least. tonight, she’s okay with the whole world watching their every move, just one more time.

“oh, i don’t know if it’s going to fit,” raleigh jokes as the ring slides easily onto her left hand, amping up the theatrics for the fans still watching them avidly, even up in the cheap seats.

cadence rolls her eyes playfully at him. “very funny,” she praises, and the grin he offers her in return is so loving -- so knowing, with the secret that only the two of them share and every weird piece of their history included in it -- that it takes everything she has to shove him away so they can perform instead of dragging him down to the floor to kiss him over and over again.

clumsily, she flubs a few notes of love who i’ll be on her guitar. from across the stage, between the bridge and the chorus, raleigh jeers, “someone hasn’t learned to play with the extra weight on their left hand, yet, i see,” and when she flips him off while belting out the last lines of the verse, his raucous laughter is all the harmony the final few bars of the song needs. 

[taeyohonic]

Just a Taste – Chapter One

Summary: Being asked to take a blood test just to work at a merchandise booth should have been the first read flag for you. But you just gave them a sample of your blood in exchange for a very much needed paycheck and a summer job during BTS’ world tour. After the youngest member of the popular kpop band finds himself in a difficult situation, you come to realize that this wasn’t the last time you shed blood for your idols. or: You becomes the new donor for seven bloodthirsty idols, who seem to be way too interested in their new food source.

Pairing: OT7xfem!Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Smut, (Fluff)

Warnings: blood, they aren’t very nice to you...

Words: 2.7k

Chapters: Prologue, Chap. I, Chap. II, Chap. III, Chap. IV, Chap. V, Chap. VI, Chap. VII

“What do you mean ‘all the bags are gone’?”

Your supervisor does not look amused. The girl with an abnormal amount of glitter on her face does not look amused. Hell, even you don’t look amused. The stadium hasn’t even begun to let the fans in and your merch booth ran out of the official “speak yourself”-bag ten minutes ago.

This job is in the top three most gruesome things you had to do for money. But money was tight, and you didn’t want to survive another summer on ramen and cheap wine. The job ad was harmless at first glance. Just another sales job. But they promised good pay and international traveling, which was enough to let your eyes linger. There was no company mentioned, just a post box.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when BigHit responded to your application a week later. With Bangtan’s rising popularity and the massive size of their tour, extra staff had to be hired. Still, the ARMY in you couldn’t contain her excitement. This was a big deal for you. Touring with one of your favorite kpop bands, traveling to Japan and getting first dips on all the merchandise? This was a no brainer. Hell, you would have even paid them to tag along. So you dressed to impress when you attended the interview, keeping your giddiness locked behind a professional smile.

“You want what?”, you ask – disbelieve coloring your voice.

“A blood test”, the interviewer repeats nonchalantly without looking up from her questionnaire.

Was this normal procedure? You had only ever worked in your aunt’s bookstore during senior year of high school and at a fast food place all through undergrad. Neither asked for your freaking bloodline.

“What? Do you discriminate certain blood types?”, you say in mock humor. A laugh disguised as a cough rings through the room, as the cute guy in the back of the room tries to hide his amusement. His eyes are locked on your features.

“We just want to make sure all our employees are healthy. You’ll be travelling to a foreign country, working long hours.”, the woman in front of you replies, ignoring your bad attempt at a joke. She continues: “You don’t have to – of course.”

“But then I won’t be asked back for a second interview, am I right?”

The woman looks you in the eyes for the first time since entering the room. She doesn’t look as evil as she sounds. “No”

So, you guess you’ll leave with a bit less body fluid than you anticipated.

There wasn’t a second interview. The test results came with a pre-signed contract.

***

“What the fuck is up with this boy today?”, Joo-Won swears as his eyes are glued to the screen in front of you. Your shift is officially over. Most of the merchandise is packed up, all the sold-out item IDs are sent to the head quarter and you already got a notification that the next delivery will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning. Now you’re sitting together with some crew members, a half-finished soju bottle in your hand and an empty carton of take-out on your lap. The guy at your job interview turned out to be quite fun.

Joo-Won introduced himself during the briefing on your first day in Japan. He is responsible for the ARMY Bomb stands, which seems to be a very big deal around here. This is his third tour with Bangtan and he seems to know nearly every henchmen in this operation. So it came to no surprise when a stage assistant invited you both to watch the concert from one of the twelve monitors backstage. Of course, you didn’t look too out of place with your name badge and the Love Yourself-hoodie you may or may not have purchased with your employee discount.

The stage assistant, whose name you can’t remember, is fuzzing with screen number five as you take another sip of your afterwork drink. You stare not really focusing on anything. Just blank nothingness.

“You did see this as well, right _______?”, Joo-Won asks breathlessly.

You can only nod. The Fake Love performance just ended. And even though all seven idols were on fire, the youngest was just out of control.

“What did we just see?”, the boy continues.

“Rudeness”, you answer and empty the bottle with a hefty swing. You knew Jungkook would lift his shirt. You were prepared as you had seen their comeback stage more times than you’d be comfortable to admit. This was not news to you. But the aggression in his stare, how dark he growled his verses, the hard edges on his mouth, not even hinting a friendly smile, was making you uncomfortable.

Before your new friend can respond his headset beeped. Joo-Won answer, his eyes still on the screen.

“Yeah?” After a beat his eyes flash to you. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“_________ is with me”, he says and you need a second to register your role in the conversation.

Joo-Won’s stare lingers on your face – a silent question in his eyes.

“Sure, sir. I’ll bring her to you right away.” Then he ends the call sifting, so your knees are brushing against one another.

“Care to explain, why Bangtan’s prime management wants to speak with you, _______?”, your friend asks, no judgement in his voice. What?

***

“So, I have to sign another NDA?”, you ask the manager in front of you, trying to swallow your nervousness. This is the Sejin, Bangtan’s right hand advisor. Every fan knows him from countless Bangtan Bombs and can easily recognize the fathering care in his work.

“This one… is more specific”, he explains and moves the stack of papers to you. You try to calm your excited fingers as you grab at the legal document, flipping through it.

“And it’s time sensitive”, Sejin adds and searches your eyes for attention. You give it to him.

“Time sensitive?” The papers abandoned on the table. “Is something wrong with the boys?”

There will come a time and place when you reflect on the choice of calling these men “the boys” as if they were your closest friends. But it’s not today. Today you just see a glint in his eyes.

“Yes, it’s Jungkookie”, Sejin starts and your memories flash to their concert an hour prior. How Joo-Won and you both discussed how beastly the youngest looked – how aggressive.

“Wh-what?”, you answer in question. The manager’s hands move on top of yours.

“He is ill and … you might be able to help him. We can’t transport him. And we are not sure he’ll survive an ambulance ride.”

Your brain blanks as you stand up in a swift move. This is simple: One of your most cherished idols is ill and his trustworthy manager tells you that you’ll be able to help. This is a no brainer.

“Take me to him”, you order, not even caring that Sejin’s words are not making any sense. How can a twenty-four-year-old college dropout help the golden maknae? What even is his illness?

Sejin’s smile should have been another red flag. “Slow down, _________”, he sooths and moves around the table so he is standing in front of you. “This is important. You have to sign the documents. You’ll have to transfuse blood to him.” He is handling you a pen. “There are health risks. This isn’t … the most optimal environment for a blood donation.”

Jungkook needs your blood – memories of your job interview come back.

You sign the contract, not even reading all the small-printed clauses on the pages. Before the ink is even dry, Sejin is moving you through a long corridor. His hand rests on your neck – squeezing reassuringly. A glimmer travels across your body and you try to ground yourself. Of course you are nervous. This is reasonable. You’ll donate blood to one of your favorite idols. Maybe you’ll see him, when he gets better. Hell, maybe he’ll even thank you in person! Meeting Bangtan is the closest form to aspiration you have at the moment.

“When is the nurse coming?”, you question the logistics as you move towards the farthest door labeled “BTS”.

“Which nurse?” You look at Sejin in surprise – if not a nurse, who’ll take your blood?

“Then a doctor?”, you ask and Sejin shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping him while you both come to a halt in front of the door.

“There is… no time I’m afraid”, he answers – with remorse in his voice. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, some of the fog lifted. How the hell should you give Jungkook your blood if there is not even a transfusion station here?

Sejin knocks at the door, ignoring your thumbing heartbeat and opens the door, softly pushing you into the room. “I’ll explain everything; I promise.”

***

The starving vampire smells your sweet blood as soon as the door opens – Sejin a mere decoration in his vision. Jungkook’s whole body turns towards you while your eyes nervously shift across the room. Time slows down as the maknae swiftly moves straight to you. His muscles ache and he cannot even recognize his swallow breathing. His stare is fixed on the nap of your neck – deliciously soft, milky. Not even the slightest imperfection in this human before him.

You do not even sense Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s presence as your eyes take in the predator advancing towards you. The older ones seem frozen as their youngest stops just a breath away from you. You look mouthwatering – clad in one of their merchandise hoodies, hair pinned in a mess at the top of your head, some bold eye make-up, but otherwise barefaced. You look… just right.

Before Jungkook’s grin spreads across his face, Jin takes action – trying to move between the sarved vampire and this … girl. What the hell was Sejin thinking just throwing her in here? Did he want this human dead so badly?

But the oldest is too late – Jungkook growls aggressively as he snatches you against his firm chest. All the air leaves your lungs – your breasts pressed painfully against solid muscle.

“Ahh”, you groan. As soon as the noise leaves your mouth, his lips descend against the white of your neck. The maknae hisses in pleasure; and then he is biting – hard.

Your scream misses the volume and you feel tears on your cheeks as you gaze into Seokjin’s overwhelmed eyes – hands outstretched.

Blood flows freely into Jungkook’s mouth and you hear a sickening slurping sound. The pain is blazing against your skin, every fiber of your body vehemently trying to get away from the maknae. But your fingers don’t push him away. No, the curl around his biceps – acting against every rational though inside your brain. You cling to the man sucking your blood as if he’s merely leaving a love bite.

The pain in your body slowly ebbs and you feel a bright bliss surrounding you. You’re not even sure if you are still standing at the door. There is no room – just lips against your neck and whimpers in your throat… and Namjoon’s voice far, far away.

“Jungkook stop now.”

“This is an order.”

“Jin, help me.”

“Let’s lay her down.”

“Is there a pulse?”

***

“How do you take your coffee?”, Yoongi asks while starring at you with such indifference in his eyes you’re not sure your answer even matters.

“Uhm- I” His sigh interrupts you as he makes his way from the couch across form you to the kitchenette. The whole room is dimmed in a soft light, the furniture a clean white. You feel your head spin as you try to recall what happened. Weren’t you backstage? Didn’t Jun-

“Jungkook”, your voice more of an accusation than a whisper. Yoongi’s back stiffens, but he continues to brew hot water over a ceramic filter and soon a soothing smell of coffee drifts towards you on the white leather.

“Jungkook sucked m-y – he su”

“-cked your blood. Damn girl, how hard did you hit your head when you fainted?”, your favorite rapper asks – his body finally turned towards you.

Slow, leisure steps are taken and then he sits in front of you, taking you all in. You must look like a mess; grease and sweat from your shift in the booth, plus the incident with the youngest vocalist in the band. All the blood. Your stomach turns around uncomfortably.

Yoongi is looking into your eyes and for a split second you see something other than complete boredom behind his stare, but as soon as you try to pinpoint the emotion, it vanishes.

“That’s what vampire do”, he continues and you heart reacts before the triggering word even registers in your brain. Vampire. No way.

“Go-ood one, Yoongi-ssi. This… this isn’t – some romance novel for teenagers”, you scoff, disbelieve in your voice while your heart beats hard against your chest. Without missing a beat, the idol is in your face – literally just millimeters away. The air is stuck in your lungs as you try to calm yourself.

“You know what I hate, dumb human?”

His fingers draw lines across your face – just a feathering touch, barely more than an illusion. You can only shake your head; afraid your voice will give out if you try to answer verbally.

His face moves down to your neck as his hands frame your face – no longer brushing but locking your head into place. Then his mouth dives into your neck, just resting against your pulse. You can feel the sinister smile against your skin as you shiver.

“Talking to dumb people”, his lips vibrate and you feel goosebumps traveling across your body.

“You have all the proof, but your silly little brain still doesn’t – connect the pieces”, Yoongi trails small kisses across your collarbone; a stark contrast to his insulting words.

“Do you really think our little maknae just has a blood kink?”

He moves to the other side of your neck, while titling your head forcefully to the left. You can’t move your body – muscles frozen into place. You’re just passively… enduring what your favorite idol does to you. Now his teeth are grazing your right earlobe, as his voice drops another octave into a threatening growl.

“That we just hire a college dropout because of her work ethics?”

His words hurt, but you’re more concerned with the information behind them. They know about you, must have read your file. Shame colors your cheeks and Yoongi’s nose inhales deeply against the red of your skin.

“You smell fucking delicious”, he moans and places an open mouth kiss against your rosé cheek. You can feel his saliva on your skin and a whimper of your own escapes your throat.

“You like that, dumb human? Knowing I’d love… nothing more than to bite in your flesh? Drain you dry?”, he slurs. You both know that this is nothing more than a rhetorical question – your heart, your breathing and the wetness between your tights enough evidence.

But before he can act on his words, a searing pain flashes through your brain.

“Argh”, you groan pressing your head against his cold hands with virgo. The dead skin of his fingertips sooths the throbbing in your brain temporarily. But he knows that your time is nearing its end.

“Human, listen to me”, he whispers, his previously threatening tone making place for urgent whisper.

“When you wake up” What? His hands still a vise to keep you grounded, while the pain in your head expands to your whole body. “Damn human, focus!”

He searches your eyes for recognition, but your stare moves around the room – now noticing how alien the light looks, how… clean the colors are. Is this? Are you still sleeping? How?

“When you wake up”, Yoongi’s voice nothing more than a vibrating hum in your ears, “Say no to Namjoon.”

Now he is shaking you. “Say no”

***

“Good morning, sleepyhead”, Namjoon says after you open your eyes – the morning sun blinding you momentarily.

“I made you coffee”, he adds as he pushes a steaming mug in your hands. The familiar smell takes you back to your dream, to Yoongi, his words, his plea – and you gape at the leader in front of you.

“I thought we could talk?”

_______________________

A/N: What do you guys think? I am so thankful for the feedback you guys sent me. It means a lot! I hope you like this chapter as much as i do! I’d love to hear from you again! love, dana

taglist: @m0chilattae @gali-005 @fangirls94 @dinopowa @toddsgirl27 @littlemanismoon @dkck99 @slutkoo @subtlepjiminie @coffeebeanismylife @iloverubberduckiez-blog @geminidrawsstuff @olivialovemason88

[k-she-rambles]

everyone's already done this, I'm sure, but here! have another analysis of Rose by the Oh Hellos, one of their most overtly religious songs...

Okay, so:

"Wars are raising for her Crusades to adore her The light of your afterword"

This one gives us who we are talking about, by context: Popularly, the Crusades were fought for the honor of the Church. (It's not exactly true, but that's the trope you think of.) Today, lots of little fights are still started over her honor (it's traditional to talk about the Church as a Lady --a mother, or a bride, or a much-loved child)

"The light of your afterword" is a little trickier, and there are multiple things this could bring up: the future promises of Revelation --the end of all corruption and empire, etc. More likely, though, we're still talking about the Church --not as the entity, but the people which comprise it. The full name of the book of Acts is "The Continuing Acts of the Disciples," and it's more or less the afterword of the gospels: Luke wrote Luke and Acts to the same person, they're a set. The acts of the Church (of the people who make up the Church) are the afterword of the Bible.

Are you losing her true nature When you loosen nomenclature When you gift another moniker?

I don't know what's going on here. I'm SURE there's some drama that I don't know about. But the question stands on it's own: If you're changing the name of what the Church or Christianity is, does it change the nature?

(This was the bit, honestly, that made me think that maybe the song was NOT religiously themed, and they were thinking of changing the band's name at one point.)

What's true is like a sickle It'll cut you to the middle Your rose is without a thorn But no, my mouth don't taste of metal From the pot here to the kettle I think we got a lot we gotta learn

OUCH, okay, honestly that is blistering condemnation of the modern Church and Maggie's sweet voice and trying to temper it with the "we" at the end makes it worse.

What's true is like a sickle It'll cut you to the middle Your rose is without a thorn

So this seems like a pretty clear reference to Hb 4:12-13 ("For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.")

The rose being without a thorn is a BAD thing. If we take the rose as the Church (or as the Gospel, the central message of the faith, which I think is more likely) the singers are saying that the Church is fighting wars over a Gospel that is DEAD. It is NOT sharp, NOT living and active, CAN'T cut to the heart of things. If every rose has it's thorn, is this even a rose at all?

The context of the referenced verse is important too. (Quoting Hebrews is difficult. It's a sermon, so each thought leads to another fairly interlockingly. And you know ancient languages. ALL the run-on sentences. ALL of them.) It's in the middle of a section encouraging the listeners to avoid the pitfall of a gospel of works: running themselves ragged trying to be a good enough person to please God, when the real method of doing so is to rest from trying; let someone else do the work, set the pattern for them to follow. If they keep striving, keep fighting in the pattern of wars and Crusades they have now, they WILL fail...and be blind to the ways they have failed. But no, my mouth don't taste of metal From the pot here to the kettle I think we got a lot we gotta learn

The singers identify themselves with the people they are excoriating. They are not pots calling the kettle black, they realize that they are the same. In tvtropes lingo it's "HEY! I resemble that remark!"

And even though by any other name Her scent would linger sweetly, all the same Call her briar long enough And you'll tangle up the true and the fable

So the singers maintain that whatever is being done to the name of the Church/the Gospel can't change it's essence (this is v. important in Christianity and I could go on about how Christianity has a scripture but NOT a sacred text.) But! They can't kill the message with their mincing language but they can mix it up. Tangle the true and the fable, make it unclear, and inaccessible. which is um. a thing that tends to piss Christians off. See: the Reformation, the Counter-Reformation, the previous verse...

Your dowry isn't fooling The pyrite is showing through It won't buy you that empty tomb

So here's were I got the idea that the entire section of Hebrews was being referenced. The people who are causing this trouble "renaming" the Church, muddying their language, removing the truth from their gospel...they're trying to buy something, some kind of reward. Specifically, Jesus' empty tomb...i.e. salvation and eternal reward. But what have they saved to buy it with?

The Church is often described as a Lady. A bride. What is the dowry the Bride is bringing to the marriage? What have they saved to buy salvation? Pyrite. Fool's Gold. The wages of their works, the afterword of their gospel of works, it has all been Fool's Gold.

And no alchemic incantation For a counterfeit salvation Can appease your leviathan groom

No alchemy can turn it into real gold. They're still buying their "fable." Their groom is not the Christ, it's Leviathan (real Exeunt, Pale White Horse/Where is Your Rider vibes here). And they may not even know it.

No, love'll get you slaughtered Like a ram at the altar What is safe ain't the same as what is good

The rose still needs its thorns to be true to itself. And what is that truth? That love can be a violent, sacrificial thing. That doing good isn't safe. That truth isn't safe. It lays you bare.

I'm having a hard time saying words about this one. Love can feel like dying. You dying. Your pride dying. The call the singers are getting at is following the pattern laid down by Jesus, whose love did get him killed. The people being spoken about are not following this pattern, but they are called to.

(also, scope the Narnia reference! "Safe? Who said anything about safe. But he's good. He's the king, I tell you.")

So lay compress to the aching Of your body made for breaking When we've got a lot of breaking left to do

Following the thread of the previous verse, being part of the Church is to be "made for breaking," which the people making up the Church need to get better at.

Um. 'scuze me while I go a little feral here.

Along with being a Lady the Church is also described as being "the Body of Christ." You speak of a church congregation sometimes as a "Church body." Part of the idea is (among other, cooler things I am not qualified to explain but fully willing to keysmash about (the theological concept is "mystical union")) that Jesus identifies so closely with humanity as a head does to a body. Heaven meets earth in a Person, not a temple anymore...and then, when that Person is away, heaven meets earth in people by union with Christ.

But also, the symbol of the new covenant (which God swears by himself, making it unbreakable.): take, eat, this is my body broken for you. His body made for breaking. Church body made for breaking, for being given to feed others.

And again the singers join hands with the people they are scolding --it's their body too. They all need to love better, break better, not be afraid of finding the truth even if the truth will hurt.

'Cause even under any other creed The crucifix and the hangman, they both agree Change comes so cheaply For those of us already at the table

Pulling back, the singers say "even under any other creed." That is, what they're about to say is something they consider a universal statement, regardless of faith. Then they repeat this idea of a universal statement: the "crucifix" and the "hangman" are two ways of dying --a death that has come to represent life for some and a death that has come to represent judgment of the law for some.

And that universal statement? "Change comes so cheaply for those of us already at the table."

Some people have already been breaking. Some people have already been feeding others. To the ones already giving and sharing and breaking and healing, being forced to buck up and do so? It does not cost as much to them as it does to the people who have been convinced that their Fool's Gold was worth something.

It's a somewhat unfinished ending. I think this is the turn of the album, if you treat it like a sonnet. After Smoke Rising Like Lifted Hands it's just Boreas and Glowing as the final couplet.

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Their Favorite Gift From MC

-- Zen: Customized Bracelet --

Zen’s sort of an excessive person so he’s almost always the one giving you gifts. He doesn’t want for much and the stuff he does - like skincare products - you used to buy for him but he eventually convinced you to buy it also for yourself so you could do sheet masks together.

When you do buy gifts for him, it can be a bit difficult. His fans send him a bunch of stuff all the time, like baked goods, or fanart, or neckties. He, of course, is a lot happier when you decide to hand him something, but it’s almost never something he’s ever gotten before.

You have to outsource. So you order a custom-stamped leather bracelet from an indie crafter, something he can wear while rehearsing without worrying about it falling off. On the outside, you have ‘I love you’, and on the inside ‘Zen x MC’. 

You give it to him for Valentine’s, his favorite holiday. Zen dedicates the entire day to you and him, and pushes aside the many packages from his fans for later. 

You hand him a little box, and he opens it to gasp dramatically at the bracelet, immediately putting it on and exploring the texture of the leather. The lightly-colored tan matches his complexion perfectly.

First, a kiss for you, then its 904709 selfies with him proudly modeling his gift. It goes on his social media to a slight ruckus, because Zen’s never shown off any gifts he’s gotten before. 

“My love is so thoughtful!!! Such a beautiful bracelet <3333″

Your name isn’t on the outside to maintain privacy, which proves to be a good idea since that picture is circulated like crazy to mixed reactions.

Zen doesn’t care, this is by far the best gift he’s ever gotten. He hugs you tightly and promises to wear it always.

-- Yoosung: Vinyl Laptop Stickers --

You like to buy knick-knacks for each other on occasion. Yoosung’s wallet isn’t packing so he can only get you stuff once and a while, and you return the favor with other little things.

And Yoosung is also kinda already surrounded by little trinkets and other stuff he’s collected on his own. Little figurines and toys from vending machines, plastic reward favors from convenience stores, character-themed pens and mugs and phone charms. 

It can get a little cluttered. His backpack alone is heavily decorated with pinback buttons and enamel pins, and you know he’s home just by the jingling of the many charms hanging off the zippers.

He’s also of a romantic and ‘cute’ mind, so when you give him practical gifts of a headset holder for his gaming desktop, he’s pleased but ... he prefers it when your gifts aren’t quite so banal.

You eventually do some deep surfing for his upcoming birthday, and find this adorable pack of laptop stickers based off of LOLOL characters. These wouldn’t take up anymore of his space, and he could still carry them with him. So during his birthday dinner, you give it to him over cake and he opens it with a gasp. 

“It’s ... oh, it’s so cute! It’s perfect, MC!” He hugs you tightly and immediately has you help him stick them on. 

He uses this laptop for school, bringing it with him on most days, so it was the perfect gift to remember you by. Whenever he opens his laptop in the student lounge, or in class, he sees all those bright colors reminding him of his favorite pastime, but also he thinks of you and how much you love each other.

-- Jaehee: Promise Ring --

You’ve gotten her spice giftboxes for her cooking, a set of cozy loungewear for the both of you, and other cute things she absolutely adores.

But her true favorite? Her engagement ring. A dainty little band that matches yours perfectly. You had proposed to her during a beautiful evening in the park, making her tear up. 

“We’re partners, now,” you said. She gave a watery smile and put her ring on proudly.

South Korea wouldn’t allow marriage between you two, so these rings promised more than a union. It promised a brighter future in the face of adversity. It promised progress in the name of love and equality. 

Jaehee struggles with societal expectations for a woman like her. This ring was like a shield against the worse thoughts, or an anchor during the more tremulous times. She had chosen to pursue you against the world’s wishes, and it was the best decision she’s ever made.

You and her wear the rings 24/7. To an onlooker, it just seemed like the two of you were separately engaged people. But she knows differently. A proud little secret. 

Customers sometimes make comments about them. She’d be ringing them up, and they’ll notice the brilliant white sapphire. “When’s the date?” some have asked. She stammered,  “It’s in the making.” The customer nodded, and wished her a happy union. 

She twists the ring around her finger, looking at you wistfully. It will be a happy union. One day!

-- Jumin: Custom-Made Cologne --

What the heck do you gift the man who could have anything he wanted? Material possessions are never a strain for him. He grew up knowing that any toy, any trinket, any new technology or experience he desired, he would get. He’d ask for ice cream and his father’d purchase an entire chain. 

His current self rarely buys indulgences. He’s had years of being fulfilled already. But he definitely buys gifts for you, almost to ridiculous levels. You can see from the diversity of gifts that he has a reach for any product or merchandise, anywhere at any time. 

When it came time to get him a gift, you had asked the RFA for advice. And everyone was as clueless as you were. Even Jihyun wasn’t sure; the two of them have almost never exchanged gifts throughout the long years of their friendship, since they knew the other was showered in generosity already. 

“You’re gonna have to go custom. Something that can’t be bought,” Zen suggested. So when Jumin announced that he had to go to Birmingham for a business meeting, you came along with him. Which you seldom do, since it’s two days of Jumin being stuck at meetings leaving you to your own devices. But you had a plan.

You looked up a luxury custom perfumery, and with the help of an expert nez you crafted a bottle that would complement him perfectly. On the bottle was a label that said “Love Forever by MC”. 

So for his birthday, he accepted his gift with grace and asked where you bought it. “This bottle doesn’t look like its from Clive Christian, is it? Maybe it’s Dior ...” 

You explained where you got it, and giggled when his mouth dropped open in surprise. He opened it, sniffed, and his smile grew bigger ‘cause it was so much more special now. It was made under your hand, something that will never be replicated. His and his only. 

He loves wearing it to work. It’s so wonderful to be surrounded by a smell that reminds him of you. 

-- Saeyoung: Fingerprint Charm --

He’s a surprisingly complicated man to gift. Like Jumin, he neither lacks nor wants for material needs. Sometimes you’ve given him cute candies or hand-knitted mittens for winter, and meanwhile he’ll give you ridiculously advanced robot cats or he’ll bust out his packing wallet and boom, you’ve got a new Gucci clutch bag.

He kinda knows that he’s hard to gift. So whenever you shyly hand over a six-pack of gag-flavored soda for Christmas or something, he makes a big show of loving it and thanking you with kisses and nuzzles. And he does love it! He’s never had gifts before, not from V or Rika or his co-workers, and definitely not from his mother. Just the thought that someone cared enough to surprise him with trinkets is so heartwarming.

But your anniversary was coming up. It marked the day that Saeyoung’s life turned around a complete 180 for the better. A very important day, one that you couldn’t mark with an exotic beef jerky bouquet or whatever.

One day, while touring a small art fair, you found an indie jeweler who offered custom fingerprint charms. You set up a date to come in and make a mold by pressing your thumb into a block of sand, which was cast into a mold and into which steel was poured. 

You gave it to him over a late-night car ride date. He took the charm out of the little bag and stared at it, you explained what it was. “That’s my very own fingerprint right there. I hope it’s something you can carry with you, and remember me by.”

He was silent for a few long seconds. You saw that his hand was shaking. So you reached over and kissed him, he embraced you tightly and said with a wavering voice, “Thank you.” A sniffle, and he was back to his cheery self. You helped him put it on his keychain, next to his car keys. 

He loves it dearly. Especially when he fingers the print and feels the groves, imagining your hand.

-- Saeran: Sweater --

For a long while, Saeran couldn’t live a proper civilian life and spent many days holed up at home, stuck in an anxious and depressive slump. Any venture outside was an ordeal for him. Bit by bit, through therapy and medication, he regained his confidence.

You found this sweater online, and you knew how much he liked wearing sweaters at home. It had this quote on it that the both of you were familiar with. It had been one of the repeated self-forgiving phrases his therapist suggested. Saeran took to that phrase particularly well. He repeats it in his mind when he feels himself on the verge of a breakdown, and it helps de-escalate. 

You knew you had to buy it. But keeping it secret from Saeran was kinda a challenge because he likes to tour around your internet history when he’s bored. Not for malicious reasons, he’s just curious and wants to know what kind of stuff you like to re-tweet, or what shops you frequent. 

So with Saeyoung’s help, you ordered the sweater under a guise Saeran wouldn’t be able to crack without some effort, and it ended up being a legit surprise when you handed Saeran his gift. 

You watched his eyes trace the quote carefully, and at his fingers tracing the screenprinted flowers. He was quiet for a long while, just exploring the sweater thoroughly.

He can’t remember the last time he’s gotten a gift. Maybe it had been never. His eyes teared up.

You hugged him close and stroked his hair like he said he enjoys. It was almost hard for him to accept this from you; he’d spent years trying to approve others under threat of violence, and he’s rarely gotten to experience true generosity. 

He wears it at least once a week. It’s his absolute favorite article of clothing forever and ever. 

-- Jihyun: Filled Scrapbook -- 

For the holidays, Jihyun had given you a beautiful set of jewelry over dinner, along with a framed photo of yourself that he had taken some time before. He rarely decides to spoil you with his riches, but sometimes the occasion calls for it. 

How can you match up with his generosity? You knew Jihyun would be charmed with whatever you gave him, but you wanted your gift to mean something. 

Once your anniversary began to creep up, you had an idea and began working on your project two weeks in advance - it was going to be a beautiful scrapbook of not just Jihyun’s photos, but also little momentos and decorations on every page, detailing particular moments of your life together up to this point. 

You scoured his instagram, printing out copies onto photo paper and cutting and pasting. You folded within old plane, bus, and boat tickets. There were sightseeing brochures from trips abroad, old restaurant menus, stamps from envelopes he had sent you. You wrote messages and captions with multicolored ink. 

Extra special were the pages dedicated to when the two of you moved into the new apartment together, and when V was officially recovered from retina surgery, and also the first RFA party he co-hosted with you. Some pages touched on more sad subjects.

Finally, you finished the scrapbook just in time for the anniversary, and it was all worth it to see Jihyun completely blown away by the effort you put into it. He spent several minutes on every page, talking them over with you and reminiscing. 

He managed to hold in his tears until the last page, which you kept empty except for a calligraphy script that said, “... and into the beyond.”

[screaming-skvll]

The Fall of the House of Spider

I. The Whisky II. The Scream III. The Plan  IV. The Corsair

V. The Ambuscade

A few days later, the Titan and the Hunter perched atop a ridge overlooking a hollow gulch in a desolate asteroid loosely anchored to the Tangled Shore. The eerie purple glow of the Reef’s particulate shroud played off the surfaces of their armor, sketching them in spare lines of dim light against a canvas of dusty, dead rock. The Hunter lay prone, looking through the scope of a long rifle. The opposing curves of a compound combat bow lay beside him. The Titan sat out of sight, back to an outcropping, watching the visual feed from the sniper rifle’s scope.

“This must be the place, huh?” Radiant-6 repeated what Mardin had declared when they arrived. “You sure your Corsair friend got it right?”

“Darthula was very specific,” Mardin answered, the glassy, featureless faceplate of his Awoken-made casque held steady to the rifle’s eyepiece. “She was certain about the place. Unfortunately she couldn’t be precise about the time. But they’ll be here... sooner or later.”

Radiant grunted dubiously. Xie trusted Mardin, and the Hunter trusted his Corsair acquaintance, but details about the actual operations of Spider’s wide-ranging business were difficult to come by at all. More often than not, anyone claiming to know where or when Spider’s underlings planned to do anything was looking to scam glimmer from know-nothing amateurs. The information from Darthula the Corsair could turn out to be bogus, no matter how earnestly given in response to Mardin’s hunterly charms, without any failure of trust involved.

“There,” Mardin said, his voice falling low. “Two o’ clock.”

Then again, Darthula the Corsair might’ve come through for them.

Radiant watched the feed from the scope, processed into spectral input xie could more readily parse. The field of view panned right and slightly upward, till the crosshairs framed the unmistakable outline of a skiff as it hove over the lip of the asteroid’s small horizon.

“This them?” xie asked. The skiff bore no house markings, but houseless Eliksni weren’t necessarily Spider’s.

Mardin kept the scope on the skiff as it slid into the gulch, heedless of the two observing Guardians. “We’ll know in a moment.”

The skiff settled into a low hover over the bottom of the gulch, and a moment later the flash of transmat materialization below it silhouetted the ship’s rounded, spiny hull. Almost in the same instant, it pulled up sharply and began accelerating away, then vanished with a shimmer as its stealth came online.

Radiant could make out three dregs and a vandal standing with a modest load of cargo crates. Each container’s sides were marked with a rounded triangle cut by three short, angled bands.

“Those’re our lads,” Mardin confirmed, “with fresh goods from New Monarchy, as promised. Hmph—perhaps we should take them out next.”

“I’ve heard worse ideas. You got ‘em?”

“Yeah, I got ‘em.” Mardin lay down the rifle and rose to a crouch, taking up his bow and toggling a switch on the grip that let its complex sights snap open wide with a click. He selected an extra-long, thin arrow from the quiver on his thigh and held it out delicately toward Radiant-6. “Gimme a little zap, will you?”

The Exo felt inward for the spark of the Traveler’s gift and found it immediately, steady and sure. Xie clenched a fist, summoning up a tiny spurt of arc Light. When xie reached out and opened xir hand, the arc charge eagerly leapt from xir fingers and entwined itself excitedly around the arrow.

“Thank you,” the Hunter said, nocking the sparking arrow and raising the bow as he drew it. The bow’s cams whined grimly as the bowstring ran through them, then fell silent as it grew taut. Mardin went entirely still, except for the slight rustle of his tattered cloak in the Reef wind. The moment sat heavy and quiet.

With a sudden thwack the Hunter loosed the arrow from his Trinity Ghoul. Before the echo could return from the gulch below, the vandal directing the Spider’s cargo team stumbled as their head exploded in an eruption of ionized ether. Hungry bolts of arc Light cracked outward from the bursting point of impact to each of the three dregs, vaporizing them before the vandal’s headless body fell.

[fantasticfangirl21]

Shimmer in the Sea: Chapter 2

Everyone in this fanfic is a merman/woman Roman is 17 Virgil is also 17 Roman can activate camouflage because e is from a royal bloodline I’m working on character sketches Humans in this universe are seen as myth because all human artifacts are kept hidden to prevent panic The boarder between the kingdom and the outside targets any VISABLE people in or out, hence Roman can get through The boarder also makes the kingdom invisible to anyone outside it who does not have magic I figured I would post both of these today because they are a bit of a package deal to understand some things going on and meet some main characters Senpai is what Virgil called his master who is master is will be revieled later Feel free to leave comments questions and suggestions!!

Chapter 2 Virgil- 1293 I swim out of the cave quickly. Senpai has been asleep for a while and I wanted to wake up early to get some practice before working with her this afternoon. Just as I am about to round the corner I hear something, it's stifled quickly and I turn quickly around to look for the source, I wait for a few seconds looking before I turn back around to continue. Now my anxiety’s up, but it's nothing I'm not used to, I tend to hear things in the ocean whenever I'm by myself. I try to convince myself that I'm just hearing things… but I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. After a bit of swimming in the quiet morning hours I stop. I raise my hand slightly and mutter an incantation, the water sparkles as I dissolve the cloaking spell on the underwater plane crash site. I look around again, still feeling uncomfortably watched, I scan the area carefully, not seeing anything. I swim into the plane through a hole in the back where the tail wings should be. The planes mostly cleared out and many of the seats are gone, after finding this plane I cleared them with a disappearance spell along with the bones and such. I move to the box I keep in here and sift through it taking out my favorite human item, I refer to it as my ‘siren box’ but Senpai told me it's a ‘phone’ I place the ear pieces over my ears and press start. I listen as the drums kick in playing through the headphones, according to the small touch screen box this is called My Chemical Romance, they're my favorite band. Senpai noticed my interest in human items and culture, so she tells me the names of the things I bring back home with me. I take a deep breath and pull some of my human items out of another box, in order to use them I typically have to waterproof them with a spell and then renew them with another spell. The spells aren't difficult to cast but there's so many items that I've gathered, so I have to do them a few at a time each morning. I take out another hoodie, waterproofing it before renewing it, my magic causes a blanket of purple to wash over the item, then it sparkles for a bit and turns back to its original colors. I do the same thing to a computer, another pair of headphones and some kind of jewelry, it looks small enough to go around your wrist, it's small and skinny made of leather I think, woven together with a magnetic clasp on the end. I clip it on to my wrist after fixing it with a smile. I feel satisfied with my human items of the day and glance at my reflection in one of the plane windows across from me, I touch under my eye gently noticing my dark magic usage circles are already forming. I frown slightly at it and stand up swimming up to the window to see my reflection clearer, my eyes must have already been dark, I didn't sleep all that well last night… another nightmare. I turn and move away taking my hoodie off so that I can practice my swordsmanship, I toss the hoodie to the side and take my sword from where it hangs on the wall unsheathing it. I set the scabbard off to the side and toss my sword up in the water before catching it, the sleek black blade fitting perfectly in my hand. The hilt is silver with a few black stripes snaking their way around it, small purple amethyst gems stud the onyx stripes on the hilt. I have some unbreakable and sharp enchantments on it and I used magic to design it to my liking. I move through some sword skills I was taught with it for a while, I'm not sure how long it's been but it's now light outside and I feel more tired than I was before. My sweat mixes into the already salty water as I sheath my sword and pull my hoodie back on before putting my scabbard on my back. I leave my headphones on as I gather my human items for the day and place them in the hoodie pocket before swimming back out of the plane. On the outside I recast the concealment spell and start to swim back to the caves, in my tired daze I didn't even notice that I nicked myself with my sword when sheithing it. While swimming my spine chills like something behind me and I stop and stiffen my headphones off my ears carefully placing them around my neck before drawing my sword turning around in one fluid motion. My steely confidant gaze meets the bleak hungry ones of a shark. My blood goes cold. I whisper a protection spell on instinct before my lungs tighten and make it hard to breathe. My sword falls from my hand as I freeze shaking and hyperventilating in the water, eyes closed as my paralyzing fear of sharks takes over. I should have been more careful. What was I thinking! I should have checked to make sure I wasn't hurt. I shouldn't have trained with my sword today. I shouldn't have swam out alone.

My breathing progressively gets worse along with the ringing in my ears as I wait for the shark attack… that doesn't come. I don't dare open my eyes in fear that they are merely toying with me. Something touches my shoulder and I flinch away hard, I hear them yelp in pain and absentmindedly think that my protection spell worked. Then I realize sharks don't yelp. I open my eyes timidly, my head is still tucked down so I see their tale first, a brilliant crimson red flecked with sparkling gold. The tale has a few white marks that almost look like shark bites on it along with a white stripe down the tailfin. My breath, that was just starting to even out, catches again but this time for a different reason. I trail my eyes up the tail in shock meeting the face that goes with it and confirming my suspicions. I meet his brilliant gold eyes with a quiet gasp of surprise.

 “R-roman…?” The question escapes me before I have time to catch it. I wave my hand and the protection spell falls, my breathing light and airy. I swim closer to him slowly, my eyes scanning his features. He's tall, somewhere around seven feet, he's wearing a nightshirt seemingly, the little gold crowns against the red fabric rippling in the water. His eyes are still the same deep gold that they've always been though the childish gleam in them that I had grown used to is gone. His copper bronze hair is styled nearly perfectly to the side yet still shows that he recently got out of bed. His red scales sparkle as he shifts some, “Roman!” I repeat his name louder this time in surprise and happiness before hugging him. “I-I thought… I thought you were dead… Wait- oh or I'm dead.” I say anxiously separating from him again. I look at his eyes once more and confusion clouds his features, he didn't return the hug either. “How do you know my n- why do I recognize you?” He asks in confusion watching me as I float in front of him, my eyebrows draw themselves together matching his confusion. He doesn't remember me…? That's when I notice my sword in his hand and the shark is dead on the ground behind him… bleeding. Questions can wait we need to get out of here.

[vargynjatp]

The dead don't change

Ao3 x

”Big, beautiful, dead eyes!”

Flynn kept reminding her that the boys weren’t alive but having them around all the time made it was too easy to forget. She was used to being with them and they were good to her. They were her boys, energetic and real and so important that they felt alive. The studio was full of noise and life when they fooled around and she hasn’t laughed this much in a year so Julie wasn’t about to question her band. The boys were good for her and she loved them all too much to care about whether they have a heartbeat or not.

Julie watched Luke play, passion burning through him, and saw a person she wanted to be with. She would forever be grateful for him to push her back to making music and she loved the way he matched her passion. They worked well together and Julie couldn’t deny that the big eyes and beautiful smile made her heart flutter. He bounced and laughed and cried, is that not alive enough?

Julie watched Alex move to the beat, pace around the studio, and smile bright enough to light up the room. The balancing act to the other two running around without thinking but just as silly and strange. She wished she could hug him but Alex made her laugh and she saw a dear friend, someone she can trust no matter what.

Julie watched Reggie move around the kitchen, chatting with her dad who didn’t know what was happening. She saw him on stage, constantly moving and singing and smiling, the same energy he always had bursting out of him. Reggie would be inside their house more than the others, subtly helping Ray find his keys and watching as Carlos played video games and sees her brother, an odd boy with heart of gold.

Was that not all that counts? She couldn’t touch them, but they felt alive and free.

 

I

LA summer was warm enough that the coldness in the studio was a relief and Julie didn’t think about it much in the beginning. The cold chilling her bones is drowned out by the adrenaline and happiness to be with her band so she ignored it. Flynn commented on it as she stepped in to help Julie clean some of the stuff they could get rid of. Her frown stayed on as she shivered, hugging herself to keep warm.

“Your ghost boys are efficient AC”, she muttered, and Julie bit back a sharp comment. Flynn didn’t know them as she did, and it probably felt weird to her. Julie had started to wear thicker sweaters during writing but she always warmed up when she was singing and playing so what did it matter? The boys weren’t here now so it wasn’t that bad, residual cold patches she barely noticed and Flynn didn’t bring it up again.

It was harder to explain to her dad why the house sometimes felt freezing even when sunlight was streaming through the window, normally heating up the house. It fuelled Carlos’s ghost theory but Ray shook it off as some weird natural thing so Julie stayed quiet, got more blankets, and moved on.

We don’t feel cold anymore was all Alex had to say, shrugging it off when Julie mentioned it. If Alex, the most anxious of them all didn’t care Julie knew it wasn’t that important. She didn’t want to annoy them by pushing it, they had felt a bit distant lately.

 

II

“What’s up with that smell?” Carlos scrunched his nose when he leaned in the studio. Julie frowns, not understanding what he was talking about. It was a little stuffy but she had been here all week and didn’t notice anything special.

“What smell?” Her brother pushes inside and makes a face.

“It stinks, is there a dead animal or something?”

Rude, Reggie comments, and Julie thinks it’s a joke. There was a sharp edge that makes her stop but then Reggie is grinning again and she sighs in relief. Of course he’s just joking, Carlos wasn’t even talking about them. She should smell if there was something rotting here, maybe it was supposed to be a prank or something. Just in case Julie made a note to put on perfume to school, Flynn had been making a face too sometimes when she came over, especially if she borrowed clothes from one of the boys. It made sense, the 25 years of dust would have a weird scent to them and Carlos was known to exaggerate.

“You’re just imagining something but I’ll look around later”, she promises. Maybe there was a rat or something, she could ask the boys to check around while she had dinner. She forgot about it by the time they sat to eat and Carlos spilled juice over his food. Julie thought she felt something cold brush against her but Julie didn’t see the boys. Ray shook his head fondly when Carlos tried to argue that he didn’t even touch his glass when it fell.

She gets air fresheners for the studio just in case.

 

III

They were starting to forget more and more. At first, she didn’t even think about it, because as frustrating as it could be these were teenage boys and she was willing to bet at least one of them had ADHD so she wasn’t going to be a dick about it.

Wasn’t there a song we were supposed to finish today? Luke appears and Julie shivers from the cold radiating from him. She didn’t know what he was talking about, they finished one song yesterday and there wasn’t anything else waiting. Luke just stares when she says this, only nodding when she says the name of the song.

It had become more difficult to write with him. Julie figured he was in some writer's block, not so full of new ideas anymore and she noticed he was repeating things from his old songs. Maybe a break would do them good, clear their minds, and prepare to write some more. She hadn’t had much time to herself either, always at least one of the boys was around to keep her company. Luke agreed without a fight to take a few days off and relax.

The next day Luke was back in her room, with an old song from his notebook that he wanted to finish, not seeming to recall their talk at all.

 

IV

The whole school is talking about Carrie disappearing suddenly. Her presence had been less oppressive lately that Julie didn’t even realize until Flynn slid next to her to say she wasn’t in school and apparently wasn’t coming back. Julie sits next to Kayla during English and the member of now-disbanded Dirty Candi whispers that Trevor suddenly wanted to move and he whisked Carrie away to the East coast without a day’s warning.

“Carrie has been worried about him, he was acting super weird. I don’t think she minded the move, she was starting to hate that house. I bet it was some gas leak making them see stuff.” The girl said, shivering from the thought.

“See stuff?” Julie feels a heavy weight on her chest. They agreed not to haunt Trevor anymore and she trusted her boys. They wouldn’t do that behind her back.

“Yeah, or like suddenly they would hear music, lights turning off and doors won’t open. Weird stuff like that, she was starting to freak out.” Julie didn’t know what to say, just hummed in agreement when Kayla talked about how scary it sounded. According to Kayla they got to Miami and had no trouble, but neither of them was in any rush to visit LA.

Julie wanted to ask but she remembered how angry Luke was, they all were, when they found out about Trevor stealing their music. Kayla was probably right anyway, gas leaks happened all the time and it would explain the strange experiences.

 

V

Ray is staring at the computer, looking at a video of their latest performance. They got Finally Free on their channel too, and they had all been excited about the number of views it’s reached. She hadn’t read any comments yet, but both Julie and Flynn kept a close eye on how popular it was, getting more attention than Great did.

“Are you moving to a different style soon?” Ray asks and Julie leans over his shoulder to watch too.

“Not really, how come?” Ray points at Alex, who does look paler than usual. Julie can’t point out what it is but there is something different about all of the boys, making them appear washed out. Their clothes weren’t bright like usual and something about the movements seemed too familiar, like repeating their old performances.

“Just noticed there’s a difference with the looks.”

It was probably just her bright purple outfit that makes them look more colorless. Julie was so bright and moved a lot so it made them look static in comparison, she should make sure not to repeat that. She was the lead singer but she didn’t want to stand out this much.

 

+

Julie tried to get them to move on. She thought they could clean out some of the clutter that doesn’t have much personal value, to talk to their parents, and start to look forward. It wasn’t healthy to repeat the same patterns and a small change in the environment shouldn’t be such a big thing but it escalated into a real argument.

The windows exploded from an invisible force that pushed her on the ground when all three protested, heated in their wish to stay here like they always had.

Sitting on the floor with dust around her she looks, really looks at the three boys she loved. For the first time, she sees their grey skin, notices the rotten smell drifting with the coldness that makes her tremble while the light flickers and casts dark shadows on their faces.

Alex, eyes gone hazy grey all over with just a shadow of pupils left.

Reggie, with a trickle of blood on his chin to match the flannel around his waist.

Luke, with grey skin and a furious face.

Her ghost band, more dead than she realized.

[writethelifeyouwant]

You Got Iced - Chapter One

Pairing: Jared x Reader x Jensen

Rating: M, for language (future chapters will be explicit)

Summary: Inspired in part by the challenge prompt and in part by this convention https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAHS_RJ5Gac (which is fucking hilarious, go enjoy yourselves there). The reader is attending a Supernatural convention during a heat wave and gets her money’s worth out of her ticket that’s for sure. 

Word Count: 3556

Warnings: None for this chapter

A/N: Written for @babypieandwhiskey ‘s Hot as Hell challenge. This is only chapter one of an undetermined number. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the rest of the chapters shoot me an ask! I’ll be posting them over the next couple weeks as I finish them. I’m in the process of moving to a different country so it’s taking me a little longer to write than I’d hoped :) (Also I’ve only been to cons in my dreams so sorry if things aren’t totally realistic in that respect).

The convention hall, also known as the shabby ballroom of the Hilton on Main, was clouded in an ungodly, sticky heat that had descended, seemingly from nowhere, the previous night. Even the oppressive heat hadn’t dampened the palpable excitement of the hundreds of people that were crowding into each other’s personal space, waiting for the boys. A dance, so identical it was practically choreographed, spread throughout the audience as the minutes slipped by. People’s heads nodded up and down as they checked the clocks on their phones and then checked the stage again, finding it still empty. 

Then a shocking scream erupted from a corner of the room where a ripple of the curtain had announced the imminent arrival of Rob and his band of merry men. Shouts rang out as the band populated the stage and without introduction, cranked out discordant rock chords. 

“How you all doing today?” Rob shouted into the microphone and answering hollers echoed back. “No one melted yet?” 

An answering “No!” came back from the crowd. 

“Alright well let’s get this show on the road before that happens!” 

Cheers erupted as the music started, Rob introducing himself, Michael, Billy and Stephen, and Rich who had popped up from behind the curtain in the meantime. 

“So hey,” Rich had grabbed his own microphone, “I saw a couple guys lurking backstage, I think you guys might know them, those two really tall motherfuckers that are on TV all the time?” The shrieks that flew out of the crowd must have made the band glad they had earplugs in. “I’m gonna assume that means you guys want them up here too?” Rich prodded with a smirk. More screams. “Yeah I thought so, everyone give it up for Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles!” 

The boys, somehow dressed in flannels despite the god awful heat, jogged out on stage, waving and smiling and lapping up the outcry from the nearly hysterical audience members. Picking up the microphones that were waiting for them on the chairs in the centre of the stage, they settled themselves in, Jared flipping his chair around and earning some extra swooning screams because he somehow managed to make that simple movement incredibly seductive. 

To be honest, you were glad you had a railing to lean against as you watched them. Terrified excitement gripped your chest as you stared up at them enjoying the turmoil they had engendered, and you felt sweat pooling at the base of your spine that had nothing to do with the sweltering humidity you’d been standing in all morning. You were in one of the two lines of incredibly lucky humans stood near the front of the room, with your question scribbled on a piece of paper in case you totally lost your mind when it was your turn to talk to them. 

Just as the noise finally began to die down Jensen grinned into the mic and said, “Hi guys,” pulling a whole new wave of cheers from everyone. 

“How are you guys doing?” Jared asked, nodding along to the answers of “great, amazing, good, boiling” that were making their way back to him. They both laughed. “Yeah, it is pretty hot in here isn’t it?”

“Sorry guys, that’s my fault,” Jensen smirked, and Jared shot him a teasing look and fanned himself wildly. 

“Seriously, is this normal for here, did we just totally miss a memo?” Jared asked. The crowd shouted that this was completely not normal, it was some sort of sign of the apocalypse, curse from God, that sort of thing. “Oh good, so we’re not total morons,” he nodded, shaking the front of his shirt to encourage some airflow. 

“You know what might help, man?” Jensen asked. 

“What?” Jared’s face told the crowd that he genuinely didn’t know where Jensen was going with that question. 

“If you took the fucking beanie off.” 

Laughter rang out followed by hollers of encouragement as Jared shook his head but pulled off the wool knit cap, shaking out his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes. 

“Yeah okay, the hat was a stupid move today,” Jared admitted, tossing it casually straight into Jensen’s face. “Do you guys like not know what air conditioning is or…” laughs rippled through the audience and a garbled shout you couldn’t make out made its way towards the stage. 

“What was that?” Jensen asked, leaning forward as if that was gonna make it easier to hear. You heard the words repeated but you still couldn’t understand them. 

“Bring back strip question?” Jared clarified. The boys chuckled as answering shrieks reached a heightened level of hysteria. 

“Honestly, I don’t think we’re gonna need the prompting this time, the layers are just gonna start melting off eventually,” Jensen laughed. 

“No but, on a slightly more serious note,” Jared interrupted, “Thank y’all so much for being here. We love you guys and we really appreciate it but it is hot in here so, take care of yourselves, drink water if you have some. If you have to get up and go cool off or get a drink, please, please do, don’t feel bad. We don’t want anyone collapsing out there.” 

Jared’s thoughtfulness really touched something in you. He was so unendingly sweet it just showed how much he really felt everyone there was his family. You felt like you mattered and that spread warmth through your limbs that was altogether separate from the heat of the room. Lost in your thoughts briefly after Jared’s PSA you noticed that they had started to take questions from the line, and you shook yourself out in time to hear a small girl’s trembling voice ask, “What was the hardest thing you ever had to do for the show? A stunt or something emotionally difficult or scary to film?”

The panel trickled by, and you tried to absorb every second of it. The minute expressions that Jared and Jensen shared, the laughs they broke from each other, the looks of adoration on every fan’s face, the feeling of gratefulness that swelled in your chest at being anywhere near these two and surrounded by such an incredible amount of happiness. The heat was the constant companion of everyone in the room, and Jared and Jensen were frequently leaving their chairs to make trips to the jugs of iced water that had been set up by the band. 

As you neared the front of the question line, Jensen got up for another water break while Jared finished answering a question about the mechanics of one of his favourite shots from last season when he was suddenly interrupted by a growl from Jensen. 

“Son of a bitch!” Even without the microphone he was incredibly audible, especially since you were very close to them at this point. 

Jared turned around, confused and amused, trying to figure out what the hell Jensen was doing. It quickly became apparent as Jensen pulled from a jug of ice a slim white bottle, shaking the condensation off of it. Jared burst out laughing, clapping his hands together and pointing in mocking. 

Walking back to his mic, Jensen twisted the cap off the bottle. “Did you do this, man?” Jensen accused Jared. 

“No, I swear,” Jared choked out still laughing. Jensen rounded on the band and Rob and Rich just shrugged, with unapologetic smirks on their faces. “Hey man, at least it’s cold,” Jared offered. 

“Ugh I hate these things,” Jensen complained, but he sank to one knee to raucous applause and tipped the Smirnoff Ice back, downing it in an impressively short time. Rob and Rich grinned at each other and shared a surreptitious low-five behind Rob’s back. You were right next to their side of the stage now and they heard you laugh at them. Turning they gave you a thumbs up and Rich looked around, leaned in to whisper something to Rob, then pulled back with a pretty evil smile. 

On the other side of the stage, Jared and Jensen had returned to answering questions and you tried to pay attention to the anecdote they were sharing but you kept getting distracted and glancing back at the band, because you could feel Rob’s eyes on you. Looking around you realised that Rich had ducked behind the curtain and now he was rounding the corner of the stage on the audience level, sneaking along bent over so his head wouldn’t be seen over the side of the stage. He was coming right at you. 

He stopped to check something with the volunteer that stood at your side of the stage, then continued to creep back towards you. You stood there in stunned silence as he approached with a wide, conniving smile and whispered an introduction. 

“Hi there, I’m Rich.” 

“H-hi,” you gulped, completely stunned that you were standing so close to an actual Supernatural actor. 

“So, you’re gonna have the last question,” Rich cut straight to the point, keeping his voice down so he didn’t disturb the proceedings around him. You nearly choked on your breath. 

“That, that means,” you struggled to compute for a second. “I go up there?” You pointed up to the stage where Jared and Jensen were sitting, laughing, looking like giant gods. 

“Yup,” Rich popped the ‘p’ on the end of the word. “That okay with you?” You could only manage to nod. “Okay, so, we play the little jingle, the volunteer will walk you up, we’ll have a chair there with a mic, all good?” Again, you only nodded, clutching your question in your hand, eternally grateful that you had thought to write it down, and hoping the sweat pooling in your hands didn’t smudge the writing. 

“One more thing,” Rich ducked his body behind yours and brought his face close enough to full-on whisper. “That dress have pockets?” Completely confused by his question you squeak out an answer. 

“Yeah, why?” You felt something cold at your elbow and you looked down. Rich was sneaking you another Smirnoff Ice, indicating with his head that you should put it in your pocket. 

“Think you can give that to Jared for us?” 

“Oh,” you breathed out, understanding now. “Yeah, sure,” you giggled. 

“Thanks kiddo,” Rich clapped his hands on your shoulders and squeezed before darting forward and launching himself back onto the stage so he could situate himself with the band. 

After an exchange of looks from Jared and Jensen and back to Rob the music kicked in and you were ushered forwards by the volunteer Rich had spoken to a moment ago. 

There were no real words to describe what it was like to stand right in front of Jared and Jensen. You felt like your heart had stopped and like it was beating a million times a minute at the same time. Up on the stage with lights beaming down it was even hotter than it had been in the audience, and when Jared and Jensen each placed a hand on your upper arms and guided you towards your chair and mic, it felt like their hands were burning into your skin. You almost hoped you had scars a la Dean’s from Castiel. 

As you sat down, the faint buzzing that had stuffed your ears started to dissipate and you realised that Jared was talking to you. 

“I’m sorry, can you say that again?” You were so embarrassed that they were affecting you like this but Jared just smiled gently, practically radiating a safe, warm encouragement. 

“What’s your name darlin’,” Jared asked again. 

“Oh, uh, Y/N,” your name came back to you, finally. 

“And Y/N,” Jensen asked now, “what is your question?”

“Okay, um, so my question is for both of you and I’d like to extend it to Rob and Rich too if that’s okay?” You glanced around at everyone’s faces and all four seemed to be nodding their heads that that would be okay. When you looked over at the band you caught Rich’s eye and he quirked a brow at you, a small reminder of your other purpose on the stage. Clearing your throat you pulled out the your question but kept your other hand in your pocket with the cold bottle. 

“But, before I ask it, I’ve been asked to give something to Jared by a friend.” 

“Oh cool, what is it!” Excitement took over Jared’s face like a puppy dog who heard the word ‘treat’. That joy was quickly doused when he saw what you pulled out of your pocket. “Oh, God,” Jared pulled a hand over his face, scrubbing at his cheek adorably in annoyance. 

“Sorry,” you did feel a little guilty, but mostly it was funny. 

“Which one of those douches was it,” Jared pointed accusingly at Rob and Rich. 

“You’re welcome!” They shouted in unison, giving Jared a big thumbs up. 

“You suck,” Jared shouted, but good-naturedly sank to one knee, upending the Smirnoff Ice and draining it as quickly as possible. What made you absolutely lose your breath, and nearly your mind, is that when he dropped to his knee he used you as his brace. His long fingers wrapped almost all the way around your knee, and he squeezed gently, almost teasingly, as he gulped down the icy drink. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his neck was pulsing as he swallowed, and a small drop of sweat was running achingly slowly down past where you knew you could find his pulse if you just reached out your fingers and touched. 

When he finished, he exhaled on an over-exaggerated ‘ahh’ and his eyes locked straight with yours. He maintained eye contact, his hazel irises twinkling in the bright lights beating down on the stage, and he rose slowly back to his feet, giving your knee one last squeeze before reaching out for his microphone again. 

“Now, Y/N, since we’ve got that out of the way,” Jared flared back at Rob and Rich, “what is your question?” 

The rest of your time on stage was an absolute blur. Jensen answered your question first, quickly followed by Rich. Jared and Rob took a few seconds each to consider before offering their best answer and then before you could process what was happening Jensen was pulling you to your feet and wrapping you in a burning hug. Jared came around the other side and stretched his arms around both you and Jensen, briefly trapping you there between them. Then all the sudden you felt a rush of air as they pulled back and you were being ushered off to the side by a volunteer. 

Your eyes took a moment to adjust back to the lack of blazing spotlights, so you kept following the volunteer without giving much thought to where she was leading you. It was a shock when you found yourself being pushed through a gap between a curtain and the wall, moving back behind the stage. A little holding area was filled with everyone who had just been on stage, and a volunteer passing around water bottles.

“Why am I back here?” You whisper shrieked at the volunteer. She laughed at you. 

“You want to take a picture with the guys?”

“Oh wow, you’re not serious,” you panicked, smoothing out your hair and patting over your face, hoping your makeup hadn’t sweated off too much.  

“You’ll be fine,” she laughed again, good-naturedly though. She must be used to dealing with fangirling freaks, you thought to yourself. 

“Hi Y/N,” Jensen called when you were just about level with the group. 

“Ready for your close-up?” Jared asked, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

“Um, yeah I guess,” you gulped, trying to organise your thoughts as you followed Jared and Jensen over to where a camera tripod was set up against another wall. You were walking between them, the bare skin of your arms brushing against their hands, because they were that much taller than you. “It is so nice to meet you guys, seriously, I just want to say thank you for being like, amazing and wonderful. You’ve made such an amazing family,” you stop talking and try to rein yourself in, knowing you can’t guarantee you won’t say something monumentally embarrassing very soon. 

“Well, you guys are all pretty amazing too,” Jared smiled, clapping a hand on your shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, clearly sensing you could do with a little calming down, not that having him touch you actually accomplished that. Your heart felt like it was trying to jump out through your throat. 

“So, where do you want us?” Jensen smiled warmly at you, but there was something else peeking out from behind his bright green eyes. Mischief, maybe. 

“Oh god, I don’t even know,” you tried not to giggle hysterically, which was your usual defence mechanism when you got nervous. 

“It’s okay, just come over here,” Jared pushed you forwards slightly towards Jensen. They stood together, arms slung around the shoulders that were touching and pulled you in front of them. Stumbling a little, like a total idiot you berated yourself internally, you fell back against them. Assuming they’d want a little more space, you started to take a step forward but then you felt solid warmth pressing against your back. Jared and Jensen had both pulled you closer into them and they were pressing you back into their bodies. You felt more than heard a chuckle roll through Jensen’s body, and he slung his left arm around your body, settling his hand against your right shoulder. Jared mirrored him, crossing his arm over Jensen’s to hug you tighter to both of them. 

“Okay, say ‘bacon’!” The photographer snapped a few photos of you all absolutely laughing your asses off, because who says ‘bacon’ when they take a photo? But as the laughter settled you felt a sense of incandescent calm spread through you. Jared and Jensen were still pressing you against them, and the laughter had broken the tension you’d been holding in your limbs, allowing you to settle into them without so many nerves. 

When the photographer indicated that he was done the boys released you and each other, Jared ruffling his hair mostly to give his hands something to do. You felt more relaxed now, and a little more confident that you weren’t going to start babbling nonsense so you took a chance to ask for a favour. 

“I’m gonna ask since I’m here and I know I’ll kill myself later if I don’t… Do you think it would be okay if I got a photo with the band?” 

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Jensen said, obviously having expected something much more out of left field. He waved over to the guys still milling around in the holding area. “Hey, Rob, get your guys over here!” 

When they were in better earshot Jared pointed his thumb at you and said, “Your new minion wants a picture.” His voice was scathing but hid his amusement pretty poorly considering he was an actor. The band plus Rich all crowded around you for a photo, going for a giant group hug approach and pulling loads of stupid faces, helping you chill out even more. 

As they released you from the crush you turned back to Jared. “Sorry, again, about that,” you said, referring to passing on Rich’s prank before, and blushing a little. 

“Yeah, bullshit,” Jared laughed, his eyes crinkling and fuck, why was that so sexy.  

“Well did you want to give her this for your revenge Jared or…” Jensen let his thought trail off, swinging a cloudy white bottle by the neck between his thumb and a finger. 

“Jay, we cannot Ice a fan,” Jared laughed exasperatedly. 

“Sure we can,” Rob grabbed the drink from Jensen and tossed it at you. You screamed a little but by some miracle you caught it clumsily, clutching it to your chest to keep it from smashing to the ground. 

“Y/N you really don’t have to drink that,” Jared insisted, trying to protect you from his ridiculous friends. 

“No it’s okay, fair’s fair” you laughed, twisting off the cap of the cold drink, confused as to how this was your life right now. You brought the bottle to your lips, taking a moment to shoot Jared a reassuring smile because he was still looking worriedly at you. Before you managed to actually drink any of it though you heard Jensen clear his throat, and he looked pointedly from you, to the ground at your feet. 

“You forgetting something?” Jensen grinned as he watched you, arms crossed over his chest. Of course, you thought, you were supposed to take a knee when you downed it. 

“Someone’s bossy,” you chided, but you let yourself fall, landing on both your knees instead of just one like the challenge technically called for. Glancing up at Jensen for permission to down your drink now you saw him exchange a fleeting look with Jared. For just a moment, something had cracked through their smiling exteriors. It was dark; hungry. The change had been infinitesimal and before you could swear it had been there to begin with, their warm, encouraging smiles were back. You tipped the bottle back, keeping your eyes locked with Jensen’s the whole time, like Jared had done with you earlier on the stage.

[thebowerypresents]

POSITIVE SPINS: NEW ARTISTS, NEW ALBUMS, AND NEW LIVE STREAMS THAT PUT OUR 2020 ON A BETTER TRACK

2020 proved to be one of the hardest years we have collectively gone through.  While we didn’t have live music to lean on when times got tough, these are the albums, artists and livestreams that got us through the rough patches and will carry us into a brighter 2021.

Listen to our playlist of Positive Spins!

BEST NEW ARTISTS OF 2020 (in no particular order)

THICK

“Brooklyn-based pop-punk three-piece, THICK, are not afraid to say (or sing) what’s on everyone’s mind - with a fierceness and confidence I can only aspire to assume. Sticking it to the establishment is the name of their game - take “Mainsplain,” for instance - and they manage to do so with catchy chord progressions and an uplifting vigor. I can’t wait to see what’s next for the trio, and who else they’ll put in check.” - S. D.

Ela Minus

“Brooklyn-based techno-pop artist Ela Minus broke onto the scene this year with her debut album “ acts of rebellion.” The Colombian-born musician has a background in emo bands, is a trained jazz drummer, and she wrote, produced, engineered, and recorded the album on her own. “acts of rebellion” is moody and sultry, while still making you want to grab your friends and dance.” - K. C.

Arlo Parks

“Without even having released her debut album yet, Arlo Parks has made a name for herself this year. Singles released throughout the year, paired with 2019’s EP ‘Sophie’ and her slot as support on Hayley Williams’ (cancelled) tour have boosted Arlo to a new level this year, that we can only assume will continue to rise in 2021 when her debut album drops.” - K. C.

Beabadoobee

“Beabadoobee’s interesting name is only matched by her sound - bedroom-pop fused with nineties indie-rock, tinged with a tender, DIY aesthetic. Her track “If You Want To” will have you singing along, while her single “She Plays Bass” will take you back to your hormonal, vulnerable, teenage years met with sublime nostalgia. She’s without a doubt a silver lining in 2020.” - S. D.

BENEE

“I first saw Auckland’s BENEE at Rough Trade in October of last year - her sincere, to-the-point lyrics and quirky hooks instantly hooked me. You may know her track, “Supalonely,” which found popularity on TikTok during the height of lockdown, but BENEE’s sound isn’t limited to the confines of one social media trend. In her debut album released this year, BENEE displays an uncanny ability to tackle alt-rock, hip-hop and electro-pop all at the same time, in an unbothered, endearing way - making her a “one to watch” in 2020 and beyond.” - S. D.

Christian Lee Hutson

There isn’t a lack of acoustic singer-songwriters out there, but Christian Lee Hutson is an important new voice. Hutson first full length album, “Beginners,” released this year, has a warm and honest quality to it. The production is subtle (thanks to producer Phoebe Bridgers), and so perfectly complements a simple, acoustic narrative. The result is a soulful, beautiful, and special work of music. - S. D.

Do Nothing

“2020 newcomers out of Nottingham, UK, Do Nothing have already made a big splash in the post-punk world. Releasing their first EP, Zero Dollar Bill, earlier this year, the band have been compared to Idles and are setting out on a similar path of success. Upon first hearing their earlier single Lebron James, countless fans are sure to be sucked into the world of Do Nothing.” - K. C.

Kate Bollinger

“I first listened to Kate Bollinger when she released I Don’t Wanna Lose in 2019. I played the track Candy on repeat all year long. It has been so lovely to watch her grow into the artist she is today. This year she released an EP called A word becomes a sound, which quickly became one of my favorite releases of 2020. Her voice is so comforting. Whenever I listen, I feel like I am being coddled in a fluffy blanket with a cup of herbal tea and nothing could go wrong at that moment. I can’t wait to see what Kate has planned for 2021 and beyond!” - L. S.

SAULT

“After a year of intense racial unrest in the United States, SAULT’s importance is more significant now than ever.  With themes focusing around the Black Lives matter movement, this mystery soul-funk group has become more than buzzy in the music scene, and has earned a spot on tons of year end lists.” - K. C.

Sorry

“London-based genre-defying band Sorry released their debut album ‘925’ this year, produced by James Dring (Gorillaz, Jamie T) which is already reason enough to pique the interest of most. The album certainly does not disappoint, with each song giving you a different taste of the many interesting sides of this up-and-coming group.” - K. C.

Honorable Mentions:

Gracie Abrams Remi Wolf Hailey Whitters KennyHoopla Jade Hairpins Jockstrap Model/Actriz Mild Orange Your Smith Neal Francis

BEST NEW ALBUMS OF 2020 (in no particular order)

Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

“Fiona Apple is fearless in this album. The song structures and sounds take you on a listening experience I can only describe as emotional in the best way. Eight years of waiting was totally worth it.“ - S. D.

Fleet Foxes – Shore

“This album had been bright spot in a difficult year. St. Ann’s Church was the perfect location for their Colbert performance of Can I Believe You and the live stream will be the perfect holiday present. Ready to feel all the feels!” - K. A.

Khruangbin - Mordechai

“Khruangbin is one of my go-to bands, and “Mordechai” has been heavy in my rotation in 2020. It’s really a great album – I play it cover-to-cover and pairs well with a cocktail and cooking at home, infusing some needed spice and energy in what could otherwise be ‘just another night’ during a long, monotonous several months.” - C.M.

Moses Sumney - Græ

“The highly anticipated second album from Moses Sumney, shows us more of the highly personal, raw and emotionally moving music we have some to expect from him. The cluster of emotions that Moses works through with his beautifully unique voice in this 20 song album give us a look into the complicated mind of one of the most interesting artists of the last 5 years.” - K. C.

Perfume Genius – Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

“*Bill Hader’s Stefan voice* this album has everything! From the heavy and distorted bass on “Describe” to the melodic harp stringing of “Leave,” to the dance ballad (is that a thing?) “On The Floor,” Perfume Genius’ album Set My Heart on Fire Immediately really does have it all. Each song feels vastly different from the next in tone, instrumentation, and influence – yet they all come together so perfectly to make this stunning album, all while showcasing his vocal depth and range. There’s a reason he’s called Perfume *Genius*, and that is because Mike Hadreas can take familiar feelings and turn them into unconventional pop ballads that feel both relatable, but new and exciting at the same time.” - R. E.

Phoebe Bridgers – Punisher  

“How does Phoebe do it? (a question I ask myself daily). I remember waking up on June 18 as if it was my birthday. Punisher is everything I hoped for and then some more. The last song on the album, “I know The End” concludes with a scream which is the perfect cherry on top to this masterpiece. This album is a rollercoaster of Phoebe’s emotions and I feel blessed to be along for the ride. It is relatable, heartfelt and honest. Thank you to Phoebe for this gift. The world will never be the same after this.” - L. S.

Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA

“SAWAYAMA is the early 2000s pop resurgence we didn’t know we needed, mixed with all the best parts of nu-metal. Rina Sawayama uses catchy pop hooks reminiscent of early Britney Spears, and pairs them with heavy guitar riffs to give us arguably the most fun album of 2020 that we cannot wait to experience live.” - K. C.

Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

Thundercat - It Is What It Is

“I love how this album embraces the darkness while managing to find the light in despair - it seems to acutely reflect the times we are in yet is simultaneously so personal to Bruner. The lyrics are set against a backdrop of funk, electronica, jazz, and soul, so there’s a little something for everybody.” - S. D.

Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud

“This album was released early in quarantine, and was the perfect musical escape during some of the toughest days. The imagery and reflection of the lyrics are why Saint Cloud tops my list of albums of 2020.” - J. F.

Honorable Mentions: The Beths – Jump Rope Gazers Fontaines DC - A Heros Dream Kevin Morby – Sundowner Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit – Reunions My Morning Jacket - The Waterfall II CHIKA - Industry Games Megan Thee Stallion - Suga Christian Lee Hutson- Beginners Idles- Ultra Mono Sturgill Simpson - Cuttin Grass Pup - This Place Sucks Ass Futurebirds- Teamwork Adrianne Lenker – Songs / Instrumentals Tom Misch, Yussef Dayes - What Kinda Music + the bonus tracks EP Some Kind Of Peace – Olafur Arnalds Tyler Bryant and the Shakedown - Pressure Josh Ritter - See Here, I Have Built You a Mansion Sahara Moon - Worthy Local H - Lifers Deep Purple - Whoosh! Indigo Girls Look Long Taylor Swift - folklore Against All Logic – 2017-2019

TOP TEN LIVESTREAMS 2020 (in no particular order)

Christine & The Queens (Live on KEXP at Home)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bavZe47um4

“Live on KEXP at Home” was home to some of my favorite quarantine livestreams, and this one did anything but disappoint. Not only does Chris, aka Christine & The Queens, perform, but interviews are woven throughout the livestream. The drama of her performances, juxtaposed with her witty and humorous banter with the interviewer was such a breath of fresh air. If you’re a fan of Chris, this is a must watch.“ - S. D.

Courtney Barnett and Lucius & Friends: Live From Our Lounge Rooms with Sheryl Crow, 3/25/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbfRbw3o1jU

“This was a gift that kept on giving. The stream started off with Courtney Barnett and Lucius in matching pajamas. I truly thought it could not get any better but I was in for a treat! The stream included performances by Nathaniel Rateliff, Sheryl Crow, Sharon Van Etten, Waxahatchee, Kevin Morby and more. I can safely say this was my favorite live stream I watched in 2020.” - L. S.

Julien Baker, Themfest Instagram Livestream, 4/16/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tINSbY4wRjs

“Recorded for Themfest during the early days of quarantine, Julien Baker’s in-home livestream was a welcome respite from the Cuomo briefings and general despair of mid April. Just kidding, Julien Baker is the queen of Sad Shit and I certainly didn’t tune into this livestream expecting a mood boost. But if you subscribe to the “sad songs make me feel better” aesthetic purveyed by our sweet little siren, this moody, intimate shot-on-iphone set will scratch that itch. But let’s not fool ourselves, nothing will ever replace the feeling of holding your breath along with 1,799 others at Brooklyn Steel while JB rips your heart out, in a nice way.” - E. M.

Kurt Vile, Love From Philly Livestream, 5/3/20 (covers John Prine’s “Sam Stone” near the end)  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjKG-7d5loY&feature=emb_logo - Jared

“Back in May, Kurt Vile took to his basement for a solo acoustic stream to benefit 30 Amp Circuit, a non-profit dedicated to support the health, wellness, and professional needs of Philadelphia-based musicians and artists. The intimate 3-song set rounded out with a special tribute to the late John Prine, as Kurt did his own rendition of “Sam Stone.”” - J. D.

Radiohead, In Rainbows - From The Basement, 6/4/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWqDIZxO-nU

“This is the one die hard Radiohead fans have been waiting for. This session originally from 2008 existed in some pretty esoteric places and has been almost impossible to find – until now.” - G. A.

Sturgill Simpson, Live at The Ryman Auditorium, 6/5/20  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kO73im4J2sU

“2020 was supposed to be a banner year for Sturgill, until he got COVID-19 in April. He’s ok now, but something about this performance in the sacred church of country music The Ryman, hits different.” - G. A.

Haim - Women in Music PT. III Live Show, 6/25/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_eJU6X3_jQ

“I love pretty much everything the Haim sisters do - so much so that I aspire to be a sister myself. When I was feeling those very familiar mid-pandemic blues, their “Women in Music PT III” livestream, which celebrated their new album of the same name, was the exact pick me up that I needed. For the first time since March, the 30 minute set made me feel as if I was at an intimate gathering - rather than behind a computer watching a YouTube video along with thousands of others. The stream will have you grooving, laughing, and you may even want to be a Haim sister yourself.” - S. D.

Nilufer Yanya, Boiler Room: Streaming From Isolation with Night Dreamer & Worldwide FM, 6/28/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAaAicIJE7s

“Hauntingly beautiful and yet also somehow grounded, Nilufer Yanya’s June livestream was a special one to watch. It makes the case for how intimate an artist’s performance can be, even virtually.” - G. A.

Brittany Howard, Live From Ryman Auditorium, 10/17/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLH59WLQbZo

“Watching Brittany Howard and her incredible band rip through a set on the Ryman stage like no one and everyone was watching all at once was cathartic. The combination of such a singular artist and historic venue hit a similar nerve to seeing an artist you’re excited about play a show in the flesh with people you love – not an easy feat!” - M. L.

Tkay Maidza - Live on KEXP at Home, 11/3/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPJgrDvyRbw

“13 minutes and 11 seconds of pure energy. This livestream is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, and, in my opinion, showcases Maidza as the star that she is. A must-watch if you’re looking for a refreshing and colorful approach to hip-hop.“ - S. D.