#it's like the writers kept writing themselves into corners

[writingfics-passingtime]

hi, can you please write about the reader overthinking decorating a pumpkin and loki threatens to tickle them if they don't start it 🤗🤗

I can still post pumpkin content cause it's still November, right?

Here's a sassy, stoic reader, an absolute teasing menace Loki, and a tender, emotional ending (because I can't help myself).

word count: ~4300

pairing: Loki x female reader

content / warnings: sexual tension, suggestive banter, flirting and touching, tickling, swearing

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a suggestive relationship between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: thank you anon ~ I wasn't going to respond yet because my prompts aren't open, but I've seen a few other writers receive and fulfil this ask, and I've liked seeing what other have done with it. My imagination went a little wild. Thanks for your message x

If anyone has an idea for a title, help a girl out

The room was alive with voices, clinking bottles, and the occasional scrape of a knife against pumpkin flesh. The compound’s main dining hall had been transformed into an unlikely tableau of domesticity. Avengers, gods, and spies bent over their assigned gourds with varying levels of skill and enthusiasm. Stark’s pumpkin already looked like a disaster of glitter and questionable wiring, while Natasha’s had been carved into a clean, menacing grin, a masterpiece of precision.

And then there was you.

Your pumpkin sat pristine and untouched in front of you, its smooth surface mocking your indecision. Brushes, carving tools, and paints were scattered around your space, all conspicuously unused. You held a small knife in your hand, twirling it absently as you stared at the blank canvas.

“Do mortals often find themselves defeated by vegetables, or is this particular weakness unique to you?”

Loki's voice slid over you like velvet, dark and rich, tinged with mockery.

You didn’t look up. “It’s a fruit, actually.”

“Ah,” he drawled, moving closer. “Semantics. How very like you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the edge of the table, his long, lean frame clothed in casual, dark fabrics that clung just enough to remind you that he wasn’t of your world. His sharp blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed your untouched pumpkin.

“You’ve been staring at it for nearly an hour,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Surely even you can’t find this much to overthink.”

You exhaled sharply, finally meeting his gaze. “Maybe I’m waiting for inspiration.”

“Or perhaps you’re simply afraid to begin.” His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, the kind that made your pulse stumble. “One wrong cut, one poorly chosen stroke, and the whole thing could be ruined. What a tragic metaphor for your careful, overthought life.”

“Thanks for the analysis, Freud,” you said dryly, turning your attention back to the pumpkin. “Now, if you’re done, I have work to do.”

“Work?” His laugh was quiet, mocking. He moved closer, the faint rustle of his clothing brushing against your senses like a whisper. “Sitting frozen with indecision isn’t work, darling. It’s fear.”

You bristled but kept your voice calm. “If you’re so invested in this pumpkin, why don’t you decorate it yourself?”

“Because I find your quandary far more entertaining.”

He stepped around behind you then, his tall frame casting a shadow over your seat. His presence loomed, a magnetic pull you both resented and couldn’t entirely resist.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he said softly, his voice close now, the faintest trace of his breath against your ear. “Either you begin decorating this ridiculous fruit, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

You turned slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. They gleamed with dark amusement, his smirk widening as he caught the way your lips parted involuntarily. “Oh? And how exactly would you do that?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “I could start with this.”

Before you could react, his fingers brushed against your sides, featherlight but enough to send a jolt through you. You stiffened, gripping the edge of the table as his touch lingered, just shy of maddening.

You twisted in your chair to glare at him. “That’s your plan? Tickle me into submission? How original.”

His chuckle was low, dark, a sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Oh, I think it would be quite effective. And besides,” he murmured, leaning closer, “I suspect you’d secretly enjoy it.”

Your breath caught at the sheer audacity of him, the way his voice dipped into something so sultry, so intimate, that your stomach twisted. “Sounds like you're desperate for an excuse to touch me,” you shot back, your tone sharp despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more dangerous, more deliberate. “Desperate? No, darling. Just curious.”

His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, as if he could see straight through you to the rapid beat of your heart.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the tension coiling taut as his words hung there, daring you to respond.

Your grip on the table tightened as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, even as heat coiled low in your stomach.

It felt like gripping the steering wheel of a car spinning out, but you snapped the moment.

“You’re not as intimidating as you think you are."

Loki laughed, soft and wicked. “Of course not. And you're the picture of composure, as always."

His hand brushed against yours then, the faintest graze of his fingertips, and you swore the room tilted.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locked on yours. “Prove me wrong. Pick up the brush. Start decorating. Show me you're not afraid of a little fun.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. The weight of his gaze, the dark amusement in his smirk, the sheer magnetic pull of him it was... intoxicating.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, you grabbed the brush. “Fine,” you said, your voice tight as you dipped it into the paint.

Loki straightened, his smirk triumphant but his eyes still glinting with wicked intent. “There’s a good girl,” he said softly, the words like a caress against your ear.

It left you burning long after he’d stepped away.

As you focused on the paint in front of you, doing your best to ignore the heat coursing through your veins, you felt the thrill of his words linger.

The brush hovered over the pumpkin, the orange, unsullied skin glaring up at you like a taunt. Loki had retreated to the far end of the room, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of the table as he spoke with Thor. You knew it was only a matter of time before his attention flickered back to you, the heat of a flame too close for comfort.

You had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze any longer.

Sliding the brush down as quietly as possible, you rose from your seat. The soft scrape of your chair legs across the floor was muffled beneath the ambient chatter of the room, and Loki didn’t so much as glance your way. Your pulse quickened as you edged toward the door, heart hammering with every step.

He didn’t follow.

Once you’d slipped into the quiet of the hall, the tension in your chest eased, and you let out a breath you were very aware you'd been holding.

You made your way toward the compound’s library, the solitude of it a welcome balm. The others would still be occupied for at least another hour - enough time for you to lose yourself in the pages of your book and avoid whatever game Loki had been playing that almost made you crack.

The library greeted you with its familiar quiet, the scent of leather sofas and paper a comforting presence. You found your usual spot tucked away in a far corner, a large bay window cushioned with soft pillows overlooking the courtyard. Settling in with a contented sigh, you pulled your book from where you'd wedged it between the seat cushion and the wooden frame.

The story drew you in almost immediately, the tension of moments ago dissolving into the words on the page. The sunlight filtering through the window began softening into twilight, painting the room in hues of amber and shadow.

The quiet here was sacred, untouched by the chaos of the compound. As you turned the last few pages, your chest loosened, the illusion of safety creeping in.

Surely, he hadn’t followed you. Surely, Loki had other things to occupy himself-

Surely not.

“I expected better from you.”

The voice slithered into your ears, so low and sudden that your breath caught in your throat. With all your years of training, you managed to stay frozen. Futile, though. You knew he could see right through it.

You looked up, and there he stood, shadowed and immaculate, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of a single, golden lamp. His icy blue eyes glinted with cruel amusement, his lips curling into a smirk that made your stomach twist.

“How... predictable,” he continued, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You flee like a rabbit, thinking you can burrow away from the wolf.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs, but you forced yourself turn back your book. “I don’t recall fleeing,” you started, turning a page. “I walked out, actually. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the difference in your old age.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, like distant thunder rolling over jagged peaks. “Ah, there it is. That fire you wear like armour. Does it soothe you to pretend you’re unshakeable?”

You scoffed, even as your pulse betrayed you. “You’re awfully sure of yourself for someone whose only hobby seems to be tormenting me.”

“Torment?” he echoed, his voice silken as he closed more distance between you. “My dear, if I were tormenting you, you’d know it. Shall I demonstrate?”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning another page of your book. The words blurred before your eyes, but you kept your expression neutral. “If you think I’m going to feed your ego by reacting, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

"Why did you refuse to take part?" There was something unnervingly earnest in his voice that pulled at your heart. "Why did you leave?"

You looked up, wearing a mask of indifference and sarcasm. “I didn’t realise decorating pumpkins was a matter of state importance.”

The smirk tugging at his lips was slow and predatory, dark amusement glinting in his eyes. “Such sharp words, little rabbit. Always so quick with your tongue when your heart’s trying to claw its way out of your chest.”

Your pulse spiked, but you refused to let him see it. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, sardonic smirk curve your lips. “You said you weren't desperate, Loki. But you seem to have taken to taunting me for sport."

The laugh that slipped from him was low and sinuous, curling like smoke through the still air. “Oh, I don’t need sport to occupy me. But you…” He leaned forward, the space between you vanishing in an instant. “You’re far too entertaining to resist. Especially when you’re trembling behind that mask of yours.”

“I’m not trembling.”

“No?” His voice was a purr now, his breath brushing your ear as he lowered himself just enough to meet you at eye level. “I suppose you weren’t squirming earlier, either. Like prey in my hands.”

Your cheeks flared with heat, but you kept your expression neutral. “You sound obsessed.”

“And you sound very ticklish.”

The way he said it - smooth, dark, laced with that damned smirk -sent a ripple of mortification through you. It was all the confirmation you needed of his intentions to follow through on his earlier threat.

It was inevitable.

So you leaned back, lifting your book as if to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze. If you were going down, you were going down swinging. Well, verbally, at least.

“You’re overplaying your hand.”

“Oh, am I?” He stood to his full height, towering over you now, his shadow eclipsing the faint light. “Because the ones who act so tough, so stoic, so unbothered... they’re always the most fun. It’s so very delicious to watch them fall apart.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?” You forced your tone into something light, dismissive, though your grip on the book tightened. “That you’ve got me figured out?”

His smirk deepened, his head tilting as he studied you like a puzzle he already knew how to solve. “I don’t need to tell myself anything. You do all the work for me.”

Your lips parted for a retort, but his eyes flickered down to the slight tremor in your fingers, the way your knees shifted restlessly against the cushions.

And you saw how his smile widened, satisfied and predatory, when he saw all the hallmarks of someone about to flee.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, voice dropping to a velvet whisper. “Run. It’ll be more fun for me.”

For a split second, you froze, torn between logic and instinct. Then you bolted, your book tumbling to the seat as you darted for the nearest gap.

But Loki was faster.

You didn't make it two full steps before he caught you with a preternatural ease, his ensnaring hands dragging you back against him in one smooth motion. His low chuckle brushed your ear as he manoeuvred you down onto the window seat, half-pinning you on your side with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

“Pitiful,” he drawled, his tone rich with mockery. “And here I thought you’d make it a challenge.”

You shoved at him, scowling. “Let me go, you overgrown-”

Whatever venom you’d prepared was shattered as his fingers pressed into your ribs, curling with precision against the fabric of your sweater. Laughter burst from you, loud and uncontrollable, and you immediately clamped your lips shut, mortified by the sound.

“Ah,” Loki purred, his grin widening. “There it is. That lovely sound you try so hard to keep from the world. Go on, darling. Let me hear it again.”

“Loki, wait- no!” you gasped, but his hands had already found the curve of your waist, his fingers pinching with precision that felt criminal.

“No?” he echoed, mockingly incredulous. “You were so calm a moment ago. What happened?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweater, squeezing tighter, his nails grazing the bare skin of your sides. You quaked at the contact, laughter spilling out uncontrollably as he found every sensitive spot with uncanny accuracy. Your hands clutched at his forearms, his chuckle hot and tempting against your neck as your head fell back in mirth.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, his voice low and commanding, the words a dark melody against your ear. “Why did you run?”

“I- I...” you wheezed, twisting in his hold, going nowhere. With a ferocious, defiant growl, you yelled, "I... walked!"

Loki paused, his lips curling in that knowing smirk, and then he tickled harder, digging in with precision. You crumpled back against him, laughing helplessly, unable to catch your breath. Every sound that left your mouth was a mix of laughter and helpless gasps, each one a surrender to him, to the unrelenting tickling.

“Let's try again,” Loki commanded, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me why you fled.”

You struggled to pull yourself together, trying to come up with another witty retort, but before you could speak, Loki found an especially sensitive spot, just under your ribs, and his fingers locked in with a brutal efficiency. You shrieked, squirming beneath him, but he held you there with the effortless force of a god, his smile widening against the shell of your ear.

You thrashed harder, your laughter raw and breaking, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ll- kill you-”

“You’ll what?” He laughed, low and dark, his fingers picking up speed again, pressing and kneading with wicked precision. Every stroke of his hands felt like it was designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits and then some.

The realisation hit like a blow: he could read you. Every shudder, every hitch in your breath, every twitch of your body. And worse, he was enjoying it, adjusting his touch with the kind of skill that only centuries of mischief could hone. His hands didn’t just tickle; they teased, tormented, mastered you.

"You- oh my g-" you gasped, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "You absolute fucking-"

“Such language,” he chided, his tone a tease of disapproval. “And after I’ve been so gentle.”

His fingers danced lower, teasing the curve of your hips, and the laugh that escaped you was so deep, so raw, it left your chest aching. Loki stilled for half a heartbeat, his grin sharp as he took in the sound, before redoubling his efforts. He pressed his thumbs into the tender space just above your hipbones, his fingers curling to squeeze in a way that had you screaming, your body writhing in his iron grip.

“Okay! Okay!” you gasped, tears of mirth welling in your eyes.

“Speak, then,” he commanded in low and silken voice, his fingers unrelenting. “And don’t lie to me. You won’t like the consequences.”

“I—” You hesitated, your breath hitching, but he gave you no mercy. His nails dragged lightly over your ribs, and the sound that tore from you was half a laugh, half a desperate gasp.

“Speak."

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself!” you finally choked out, your body trembling beneath his. “I didn’t want to make something stupid and have everyone see how bad it is!”

Immediately, his hands stilled, and you gulped in a shuddering breath. He unwrapped his arms from around you and leaned back, his smirk softening into something almost... fond. You shoved at him weakly, as if not quite believing he was retreating.

“Well,” he said, standing and staring down at you, admiring his handiwork, “you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself now.”

You glared at him, flushed and breathless. “You... are insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered, his grin returning, “are utterly fascinating. Shall we?”

Before you could protest, he hooked his arms under your knees and around your back, sweeping you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the door. You squirmed in his grasp.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“Delivering you back to the battlefield,” he said, his smirk a knife’s edge. “You’re not escaping that easily. You’ve still got a pumpkin to ruin, and I, for one, am thoroughly invested in the spectacle.”

You groaned, your head falling back in defeat. "I hate you."

The smirk in his voice was undeniable. "No, you don't."

The dining hall was no longer the lively scene it had been earlier.

Now, it was deserted, shadows stretching long and dark across the room, flickering with the faint light of a few dying candles. The scent of melted wax and pumpkin guts permeated in the air, and the silence was nearly oppressive.

Loki carried you inside, his grip firm but not unkind, and though you didn’t resist, you couldn’t help but feel a smouldering irritation at the way he seemed to enjoy this small victory. When he set you down, his hands lingered at your waist, steadying you, as though daring you to bolt again.

You stepped forward, stopping just shy of your untouched pumpkin. Its smooth, orange surface gleamed in the low light, mocking you. The tools remained where you’d left them, and the weight of your earlier frustration pressed at the edges of your mind.

“I... don’t know what to do with it,” you said finally, turning back to Loki. You hated how the admission sounded - small, almost defeated - but there was no taking it back now.

Loki’s sharp gaze softened imperceptibly. His lips twitched, but the smirk didn’t fully form. “Then I shall help you,” he said, his voice low and smooth, offering no room for argument.

Before you could respond, he sat in your chair with that infuriating ease, his presence commanding even in the simplest of movements. His eyes met yours, glittering with a mixture of challenge and amusement, and he reached out a hand, curling his fingers in a silent demand.

“What are you-” The words barely left your mouth before you realised he was beckoning you to sit on his lap. Heat flushed through you, unbidden, and you scoffed, trying to mask it. “You do realise chairs are meant for one person, don’t you?”

Yet, unwilling to have him see how he was sliding under your skin, you turned and settled yourself against him. His muscled chest brushed against your back, his legs firm and solid as your seat.

“And yet, here we are,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. His hand settled at your waist - an anchor, not a cage. “Now, let’s see if we can salvage your poor, neglected pumpkin.”

You scoffed, grabbing the carving tool. “Fine. Show me your masterful technique, Your Highness.”

The title came out sharper than intended, but Loki only chuckled, low and indulgent. He leaned closer, his shadow engulfing yours, and reached around your shoulder to guide your hand. His fingers slid over yours, his grip firm but not harsh. “Relax,” he murmured. His voice sent a delicious shiver down your spine. “You grip it like a weapon. This is art, not war.”

You bit back a retort and let him guide you. His body was close enough that his every movement brushed against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. Together, you began to carve into the pumpkin, slow and deliberate. His free hand flexed against your waist, your free hand steadying the canvas.

As the shapes emerged, you realised they weren’t ordinary designs. They were runes.

Norse runes. Delicate, intricate, and entirely unreadable to you.

Loki worked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his hand steady as he traced the lines with your hand.

“What does it say?” you asked eventually, breaking the silence.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck as he murmured, “You’ll see. Keep holding it steady."

The tension between you grew with every passing second. His touch lingered long, his presence close. Every shift of his body beneath yours was impossible to ignore, every brush of his breath against your skin a reminder of just how thin the line between teasing and something real had become.

When the carving was done, you slipped off his lap, feeling the need for a the brief moment of distance for your sanity, and retrieved a candle from the sideboard.

But the room felt colder without him holding you.

You lit the wick and placed the candle inside the pumpkin, watching as the light filled the carved runes, casting jagged shadows across the table.

You turned back to Loki. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on you as though he could see straight through to your very thoughts.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, unable to ignore the magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. This time, you sat side-on. His hands settled instinctively, one on your back, one on your knee, holding you steady. With his height, your faces were almost level, but you still had to look ever so slightly up.

“What does it say?” you asked again, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile thing had formed between you.

“The name of a great warrior,” he said, his tone mockingly reverent. “Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.”

You arched a brow, your lips twitching. “Let me guess. Your name?”

His grin widened, and the silence was answer enough for you.

You rolled your eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yet undeniably fascinating,” he countered, his voice a low purr. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his smirk faltered, replaced with something quieter, more tender. Relieved. "There it is." His words were almost a sigh.

You tilted your head, raising a brow in question.

“I was beginning to fear you didn’t know how to smile.”

The intimacy of his words rendered you speechless for several, long seconds. Your mind faltered, your fingers fidgeting in your lap.

“What? You don't remember what happened like... twenty minutes ago? I recall laughing to the point of tears, thanks to you.”

“That was different,” he said simply, his tone quieter, earnest.

The air between you thickened, heavy with unspoken things. His hand moved in slow, deliberate patterns against your back. “It must be exhausting,” he said after a moment, his voice gentle and laced with something that sounded dangerously close to sympathy. “Always bracing for the next crisis.”

His sudden sincerity caught you off-guard. You fidgeted with your hands, stained with pumpkin pulp, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“Isn’t it?” His hand stilled on your back for a moment before continuing its slow, soothing movements. “You are allowed moments of meaningless joy. To partake in frivolity. It doesn’t make you weak.”

A bitter laugh escaped you, soft and humourless. “I take it you didn’t buy that I was embarrassed about the pumpkin?”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Not for a second.”

You looked up, straight into him. "But you let me go."

His gaze fell to your lips, as if he were already missing your smile. Mourning it. Plotting a witty remark or flirtatious comment that might see its return.

He then looked back to your eyes, swallowing harder than usual, his voice now gentle. “I thought you were due for some mercy. You... seem to have very little for yourself.”

The words settled over you like a weight, heavy and undeniable.

And for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

"It feels wrong," you admitted in little over a whisper. "To... do things like this when so many people-" The breath caught in your throat and you had to look back at your hands, sniffing to buy some time. "It's selfish. Carving pumpkins. Decorating. Laughing at stupid things. People are out there suffering, and I’m here playing holiday games. Safe.”

Loki was quiet for a long moment, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements along your back. It brought you far more comfort than you'd ever admit out loud. Not yet, at least.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, the usual sharp edges dulled. “You cannot bear the weight of your world every hour of every day. Even the strongest flame falters if it is not tended.”

The rawness of his words cut through your defences. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but your lips twitched as you tried to deflect. “You know,” you muttered, half-laughing as your head dipped, “getting tickled to death felt a lot less exposing than this conversation.”

His chest vibrated with a low chuckle, and when you glanced up, his smirk had returned, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I’m happy to oblige,” he drawled, his fingers curling against you as if preparing to pounce.

You shot him a warning look, though you couldn’t quite keep the corner of your mouth from twitching. “You wouldn't.”

“Oh, wouldn't I?” he teased, his hands still hovering ominously close.

"No," you shook your head, that twitch turning into a smirk. "I sat with you of my own free will. Trusting you. You won't jeopardise that."

The playful glint in his gaze softened slightly as he settled back, studying you with a quiet intensity. "The little rabbit may just be a fox after all," he mused, ceding his advantage.

He studied you for a good, long while, you both sitting in a comfortable silence as he traced idle patterns against your back, his thumb brushing your knee.

Finally, you swallowed your nerves, and broke the silence. "Thank you. For your help.”

You looked back to the table, eyes roaming over what he'd carved with your hand;

The name of a great warrior. He'd said. Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.

"Runes are... actually quite beautiful."

He hummed softly in agreement.

You turned your head slightly, eyes still on the sharp lines. "What would my name look like?"

Then, you looked up at his face, and your breath caught.

His eyes were alight, faintly glittering from the flickering candle inside the artwork. Something between a smile and something far more satisfied curled onto his lips as he nodded at the runes.

"Exactly like that."

[storiesfromafan]

Don't Do It - Mattheo Riddle x Reader

A/N: Just a under 1000 word one-shot 😊 And trying to break writers block, haha.

Prompt/s: Write a scene in a library where the characters must whisper or stay silent.

And,

“Dont do it” “But...”

Late afternoon, an hour since classes ended for the day. The library was reasonably busy, due to various groups of students at the tables studying for the next days tests in different classes. It was mostly silent, minus the soft whispers of the students to each other.

Sitting at one of those tables, your boyfriend at your side, you were the only two to have their own table. Which irked a fair amount of students, so every so often you would get dirty looks. Yet neither you or Mattheo cared. Not now, not ever.

You were currently reading over a book for potions. Your boyfriend at your side, chair close to yours. His arm was slung over the back of your chair, his hand playing with the ends of your hair which cascaded down your back. Every now and then Mattheo would lean in, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Making you smile or giggle. That also got some unkind looks from the other females in the room. As your dear boyfriend was one of the few sort after boys of Slytherin and Hogwarts.

While you weren’t really high up on the list of girls the boys wanted to snog. Though that never bothered you. You weren’t ugly or anything, you were quiet pretty. It’s just boys tended to go for the prettier, and sometimes easier girls. And you might ask why Mattheo chose you. You didn't fuss over him, or make goo-goo eyes at him. Sure, you thought he was cute, even had a small crush on him. But you kept a level head. And Mattheo liked that, as well as the challenge of getting you.

After he got you it just got better and better. Mattheo never got tired of you. If anything, he just liked you more, even loved you. And after getting to know the real Mattheo, you began to love him back. Separate, you were smart while he was a troublemaker. Together, you were yin and yang. You managed Mattheo's wild side, while he brought out the fire in you.

This looked to be one of those moments. For your boyfriend's attention wasn't on you so much any more, rather he was shooting daggers at the Golden Trio. To be fair they had been looking at you both, sour looks upon their faces. Not to mention whispering to themselves while looking to you both.

It was starting to get to you too, but you had more patience then Mattheo. You just knew he was itching to say something, or hex them. The way his hand on your back twitched told you his restraint was wavering. When he drew his hand from you, and hands hid under the table before you both, he had made his decision.

“Don't do it" you whispered, eyes still on the book before you.

“But...” he whispered back.

“I said, don't do it" you repeated, turning the page casually.

“It's just one small hex, love" Mattheo tried to reason.

You sighed, “one small hex will lead to detention, love" you mocked. “You can’t afford another detention. Or else no Quidditch for you".

Mattheo sat there silently. No doubt weighing up his options, hex and detention or play Quidditch. With a soft groan Mattheo pouted, slouching down in his chair. You looked at him from the corner of your eye. You found his childishness amusing. He wanted to hex those three so badly. But Quidditch was his escape.

Closing the book, you leant back in your chair with a small stretch. Shooting a dark look to the Golden Trio, you turned to face your boyfriend. Who had gone back to glaring at the three. You leant into him and placed a kiss to his cheek, before moving your lips to his ear.

“It's alright, love. You can get your payback on the Quidditch field" you whispered sweetly in his ear. “Wouldn't it be just dreadful if Potter was knocked out by a bludger, or hit with a Quaffle".

You moved back just enough to watch the dark smirk cross Mattheo's sinful lips. “Yes, love, just dreadful”. He then turned to place a linger kiss to your own cheek, making you laugh a little too loudly.

[heesdreamer]

TWO FOR ONE

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader x jake

SUMMARY ➩ Don’t let the tiny amount of plot fool you… this is straight up smut lol. Heeseung is a gentle giant who doesn’t talk much and Jake is an absolute menace

WARNINGS ➩ Straight up smut. slight switch heeseung… he just listens well lol, hard dom jake but he’s sweet at times, double penetration, slight degrading… it’s just a mess lol this is definitely getting content blocked. Heejake are NOT together and do not get intimate at all other then slight instruction from the latter! NOT PROOFREAD

WC ➩ 11.1k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ So.. I’m back lol. Not what I typically write but well… guess I was in a mood so here you go. Hope you enjoy however many of you manage to see this considering tumblr isn’t being so kind to smut writers right now

It wasn’t like you weren’t accustomed to men and their actions, especially in your specific line of work.

Being a waitress meant you were subjected to almost every type of man, ranging from the attractive ones who talked too much about themselves and their accomplishments to the less favorable who seemed to think calling out comments about your uniform would get them a date after your shift ended.

You loved your job on a regular day, working in a hole in the wall diner that managed to get pretty heavy foot traffic between the drunk people wandering too far from the main stretch looking for cheap food and the truckers who were 16 hours into a shift and needing somewhere warm to refuel on coffee and stretch their legs.

The summers were hectic and considering part of your uniform entailed rolling around on a pair of bright pink skates as you delivered hot mugs and stacks of plates, you definitely wouldn’t have liked it as much if it wasn’t for your coworkers and the hefty tips you’d get if you managed to bring yourself to batting your eyelashes at the customers.

You were six hours into a shift now and your ankles were definitely swollen from the tight skate laces around your ankles, hair frizzier than it had been in the morning from the humidity and sweat and you were almost positive some sticky mouthed kid had stuck gum on the back of your apron.

Still your attention was locked on a booth in the corner of the diner, leaning forward on the counter with your elbows holding up your weight to stop you from rolling forward or backwards. Your eyebrow was raised as you looked at the two people seated across from each other and you were running over your mental catalog to see if you’d seen them before. Eventually decided you definitely hadn’t considering the reason for your initial curiosity, that being the fact they were the complete opposite of your usual demographic.

“They screw you out of a solid tip or something?” Your coworkers voice was mumbling from beside you and you glanced over just in time to see him taking off his hairnet and leaning down on the counter next to you.

Riki had actually been one of the skaters a year or two back before he hit a random growth spurt and became to clumsy and accident prone. It had only taken three spilled coffees onto unexpecting patrons before he was being push back onto cook duty in the back kitchen, happy to at least have kept his job even if he was missing out on server tips now.

“They’re Sunoo’s table.” You were explaining to him and shaking your head softly, pausing for a second. “I just haven’t seen them around before.”

He was shrugging and you could feel him glancing at you in confusion before he was looking back at the two boys who were innocently eating their fries and barely paying attention to their surroundings. “So, what’s the big deal? Maybe they’ll be your first regulars who aren’t 60 years old.”

You didn’t directly respond to him but you kept watching the boys curiously for the rest of your shift and four more after that, they kept coming in day after day and sitting in the same booth in the corner.

Eventually you would’ve gotten bored of trying to figure out where they came from or what part of town they lived in, if it wasn’t for the fact they started to notice you too. Especially one of them considering he would continuously poke his head over the booths divider wall and look at you for a few seconds until you made eye contact with him, then he’d shoot back down and sit tight in his seat.

It was funny at first to see how nervous he got whenever you held his gaze for half a second but eventually it started to get on your nerves and distract you from your actual tables, never having served them yet considering they only sat in Sunoo’s section.

A week passed before you were sighing and asking your coworker if it was okay for you to swap sides of the diner for the day, watching his confused expression turn into a meddling one as he glanced over at the boys in the corner knowingly before he was nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Which one are you interested in?” He was whispering in your direction with an excited smile but you ignored his question due to your lack of an answer and skated back over to an awaiting table.

The next day they were coming in again and you watched them patiently for a few minutes before the nervous one was scurrying off to the bathroom, giving you the chance to smoothly skate over and stand in front of the booth. It took the remaining boy a few seconds to look at you and realize you weren’t Sunoo but he was smiling as soon as he trailed up your uniform and stopped on your face, not relenting even when your eyebrow cocked.

“Hey.” He was breathing out and your nose scrunched slightly at the confidence in his voice, glancing behind you for a second before sighing and tucking your pen behind your ear.

“Why does your friend keep staring at me?” You were asking swiftly and his smile faltered for a second at the sound of your annoyed tone, bored expression on your face as you stared down at him and waited for a response.

You could hear the sound of the bathroom door opening behind you but you didn’t turn, already knowing who it was based off context and the fact the boy sitting down was looking around your frame now and smiling again as he saw his friend returning to the table. It took longer than the walk from the bathroom usually did and you imagined he had frozen for a few seconds when he saw you standing there instead of Sunoo.

“He thinks you’re pretty.” Your eyes were shooting back to the boy who was sitting as he spoke and they stayed on him even when the new figure was sliding into the seat across from him and doing his best to avoid touching you, captivated for a moment by the way he was looking at you.

Then you were breaking away from his gaze to take in the boy you kept catching peeking at you, eyes flickering from his red cheeks to the glasses sat on top of his nose. He was both staring at you intensely and avoiding looking at you at all cost, darting from your face to your hands that were touching the table and then back at his friend with a slightly panicked expression.

“That true? You think I’m pretty?” You were asking him with a slight bite to your words, feeling almost suspicious like they were potentially making fun of you.

You knew you were pretty attractive but at work you weren’t exactly at your hottest, normally sweaty from the beating summer sun through the large windows and the effort that skating around in clean lines all day took. You imagined your hair was frizzing out of its ponytail by now and you typically carried a heavy grimace on your face unless you were attempting to butter up the high tipping regulars.

“He does.” The other boy was answering for him and you turned your gaze back towards him in a glare. “He talks about it all the time.”

“He can’t speak for himself?” You were interrupting harshly but your tense demeanor disappeared slightly when he was shaking his head in denial, glancing back towards the boy with glasses to see him looking much more embarrassed now that you were talking about him. “No he can’t or no he can?”

“I-I can.” He was hurrying to rush out in a stutter and your eyes softened slightly at the way his widened, trying his best to address you directly despite the way his friend was laughing softly across the table.

You turned your head to glare at him again for his small chuckles, feeling oddly protective over the other boy even though he’d been getting on your nerves with his constant distractions and staring. The first boy stopped laughing but kept a small smirk on his face as he watched you, eyes flicking down to your chest for a second as he scanned your name tag before meeting your stare again.

“I’m Jake and he’s Heeseung.” He nodded his head across the table at the latter part and you looked back over to the boy with glasses to see him attempt a small friendly smile in your direction.

You tested out their names in your head for a few seconds before you were sighing and taking your pen out from behind your ear, finally getting around to asking them for their orders and ignoring the way your cheeks were heating up as you skated back behind the counter.

——

Heeseung and Jake continued to come into your work regularly and you continued to ask Sunoo for that table even if it wasn’t on your side, every time flushing bright red at the knowing smirk on his face and eventually being overly grateful when he told you that you didn’t need to keep asking him every single time.

You didn’t speak to the boys much and you definitely weren’t friends but Jake tried to make conversation with you every time you took their order, smirking and leaning forward on the table with his elbows so he could stay in your line of vision even when you tried your hardest to ignore him from the corner of your eye. Heeseung stayed quiet for the most part outside of whispering out his orders but you felt him watching the side of your face the entire time you were around them.

So you weren’t exactly sure why you were accepting their invitation to come to their apartment one weekend after your shift had ended, at first ignoring Jake when he explained there was going to be a small party and he wanted to see you there.

He had smiled at you and wrote down their address anyways on one of the napkins from the metal dispenser, sliding it in your direction and not saying anything else when you snatched it off the table without agreeing to show up.

You were definitely overthinking the fact you’d shown up now considering you definitely hadn’t given any hint that you would be, standing outside their door and being hit with the realization they might not even want you here anymore or maybe it really was a small gathering and they only ordered enough food or drinks for a certain amount of people. You pictured having to stand all night because there wasn’t enough seats and your face pulled into a cringed grimace, getting ready to turn around and leave before the door was swinging open.

You froze for a few seconds before realizing it was just Jake but then you were tensing even more. You were used to seeing him in more casual clothes throughout the day but he was definitely dressing up tonight, sleeves rolled up just above his elbows and your eyes stayed locked on the thick veins in his arms for a few seconds before you were snapping back up to his face.

“You’re early.” He was chiming but that familiar sleazy smile was making its way to his face now after he’d seen you briefly checking him out. You rolled your eyes at his comment but you were grateful when he wordlessly stepped aside to let you pass through the front door.

“You didn’t exactly give me specifics.” You were sarcastically responding as you stood in the entryway, eyes scanning over their apartment and being pleasantly surprised by how normal it seemed.

It was almost overly tidy and you had a strong feeling that was more Heeseung’s doing, spotting stacks of video games pressed tightly onto an entertainment center shelf and perfectly dusted coffee tables with no liquid ring stains unlike how your own looked. You could see a hallway leading away from the main living area and there was three doors, one of them closed completely.

You turned your head to glance back at Jake over your shoulder to find him already watching you, his expression slightly darker now but softening again when he noticed you looking. “Where’s Heeseung?”

“He’s in his room getting ready still.” He was answering smoothly and you assumed the closed door must be his, nodding your head softly and pausing awkwardly for a second before kicking off your shoes by the door. “I think he’s nervous.”

Jake was moving towards the kitchen area as he talked and you watched him curiously as he opened the fridge and took out a drink, waiting for him to continue even when he was turning back around and resting his elbows on the counter as he glanced at you. He seemed to take notice of your curious expression and raised eyebrow, laughing in surprise for a second before he was opening his mouth to speak more.

“I meant it when I said he thought you were pretty and, if you haven’t noticed, he’s not the best with talking to girls.” He was shrugging softly as he talked but you could tell it was a deeper issue between the friends, something they’d definitely talked about before.

You were looking down towards the hallway again and then back at Jake.

“So you’re his wingman.” Your tone was flat as it fell from your mouth and you were taken back at your own directness, for some reason finding yourself grateful when he smiled softly instead of getting offended at your almost harsh level of bluntness.

He was shrugging again and you felt a small wave of frustration pass through you, not necessarily at the boy directly but at the fact he never seemed to give you a straight answer to anything and constantly watched you with that smirk he carried so naturally.

If it was any other situation, you would have figured Jake was the one who was interested in you. He was constantly watching you carefully in a way that almost made your skin crawl if it wasn’t for his easygoing demeanor and gentle way of speaking, especially to Heeseung who he seemed to care deeply for. Deep enough that he was constantly mentioning him any time the two of you were alone and solidifying the fact he didn’t like you himself.

You were sighing under your breath before nodding to yourself and turning on your heel, wandering down the hallway and knocking softly on the closed door before you could see Jake’s reaction, already picturing the amused look that must be on his face.

Despite your knocking, you didn’t actually have the patience to wait for him to come and open the door so it was more so a warning as your hand touched the knob and twisted it to reveal Heeseung standing in front of his mirror as he messed with his hair. His eyes flicked up to the reflection to see who it was coming into his room so suddenly and he froze up completely when he realized it was you, hand stood still in his dark hair and eyes widening a touch.

“Hey.” You breathed out and smoothed down your skirt awkwardly, needing something to do with your hands as you glanced around his room.

You figured your assumptions about the cleanliness of the apartment being his doing were right considering the state of his bedroom and you looked back over at him to see him still frozen in place, snapping back out of it slightly when he realized you were waiting for him to say something.

“H-hi, you’re early.” He was rushing out and turning to finally face you, his hands falling back to rest on the desk and then immediately being brought in front of his stomach instead like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Jake said the same thing.” You told him and you tried your best to smile softly at him, trying to find a way to calm his nerves that were obviously increasing. You glanced at his bed and then back at him with a raised eyebrow, feeling thankful he got the memo and nodded his head softly with slightly parted lips. He watched you intensely as you lowered yourself down on his soft bed, glancing around your surroundings again and taking it in.

“It’s..” He trailed off awkwardly after attempting to start a sentence and your gaze went back to him curiously.

Heeseung was definitely attractive even if he lacked any signs of confidence, never really meeting your eye and instead allowing his more extroverted friend to basically speak for him instead of talking to you himself. It almost made him cuter to you despite not necessarily going for guys like that in the past but you were slightly flattered by how nervous he got whenever you approached their table.

He seemed especially on edge now that you were sitting carefully on his perfectly made bed, out of your stained uniform and dressed in a small skirt that was sliding up your thighs every time you slightly shifted. He was fidgeting with his hands still and you could see a soft blush on his face even though he was avoiding looking at you for more than a few seconds at a time.

“It’s what?” You were trying to coax the rest of his sentence out of him but his body stiffened at the soft tone you’d suddenly taken on, something he hadn’t heard before considering you typically were harshly barking a response towards Jake.

“It’s j-just.. not a bad thing that you’re early.” He was eventually forcing the words out and looking at you briefly to check your reaction, swallowing so hard that it almost looked painful. You were smiling softly but not immediately responding, letting his words hands delicately in the air for a few seconds before you were standing up and approaching him slowly.

He didn’t move away from the desk but he was completely tense now that you were close to him, still not near enough to touch but pretty clear in your intentions when you took another small step. He was so stiff that you were almost worried you were making him uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the many times Jake had told you that he liked you, encouraged you to make a move because Heeseung wouldn’t do it himself.

You were hit with a wave of disappointment and then embarrassment however when he was suddenly taking a few quick steps to the side and placing a hand over his face to try and cover the visible redness, staring at the floor to avoid the hurt on your expression considering he’d basically just ran away from you.

A mean scoff was falling from your lips before you could swallow it and Heeseung winced slightly at the sound, eyes squeezing shut for a second like he was preparing himself to be yelled at. You shook your head even though he wasn’t looking at you and swiftly turned to leave the room before you could embarrass yourself further, storming back down the hall and roughly attempting to put your shoes back on so you could go back home.

“Woah woah woah.” Jake’s voice was coming from the living room, sounding panicked and confused as he quickly stood up from the couch and approached you. You felt his hands touching the bare skin of your arm and you flinched softly before glaring at him, watching as he took the hint and held the hand up in surrender. “Hey, what happened?”

His voice was gentle but you could tell he already had a feeling by the way he was glancing towards the hallway with a similar disappointment on his face.

“You said he liked me.” You spat at him and you were even more mortified considering the embarrassed tears that were threatening to spill, bending back down to try and pull on your other shoe but stopping when you felt his hand touching you again.

He was holding your arm softly and not taking it off this time despite the murderous look you were giving him, squeezing your skin just enough to get your attention as he waited for you to stand back to your full height and focus on him before spreading. “He does, I promise you he does Y/N. He just… he’s inexperienced.”

“Oh you don’t say.” Your laugh was mocking and mean and you would’ve felt more guilty if it wasn’t for the anger coursing through you, more convinced now they had been messing with you.

“I’m serious.” His tone was harsher now that you were seemingly making fun of his friend, his touch still gentle despite the slight edge to his gaze. “He’s never even kissed a girl before.”

“What?” You were fully pausing in your attempts to leave now and staring at him with a bewildered expression, eyes shooting to the hallway and for a second you wondered if Heeseung was potentially listening in on your conversation considering you weren’t exactly whispering.

“Just don’t leave yet, okay?” Jake’s voice was soft and reassuring and your eyes dropped down to the way he was holding your arm for a second before you were nodding in confirmation.

He was letting out a relieved sigh and then disappeared down the hallway quickly, leaving you standing there awkwardly before you decided to go and sit on the couch. What he said hadn’t completely shocked you since you figured Heeseung didn’t have much experience due to his demeanor but you didn’t expect him to be at absolutely zero especially since he was definitely attractive and had at least one outgoing person in his social circle.

It was a few minutes before Jake was coming back down the hallway and searching the room for you, stopping for a beat when he saw you sitting uncomfortably on their couch.

Heeseung was trailing behind him and he somehow looked even more awkward than he had back in his bedroom, shoulders tensed and eyes set on the floor in front of him so he didn’t accidentally make eye contact with you. He only got more unnerved when Jake was sitting on one side of you, leaving him no choice but to sit on your right and sandwich you between them.

Neither of them were touching you but the air was heavy and you were feeling slightly anxious considering you didn’t exactly know them that well and you were sure why Jake had asked you to stay.

“Is somebody going to speak or are you just going to stare at me all night?” Your tone was snappy again and you uncomfortably shifted in your spot when Jake let out a small disappointed sigh even though you had a feeling it had more to do with his silent friend than your harshness.

“He really does like you.” His voice sounded more exhausted now like he was sick of having to repeat it and you looked at him for a few seconds before moving your stare towards Heeseung.

“You do?” Your tone was still on the colder side as you addressed him and his eyes widened for a beat before he was nodding in agreement. You were grateful he atleast could admit it even if he couldn’t say it outright but you were losing your patience for the weird game of telephone that was happening between the three of you. “Kissing isn’t that scary, all you had to do was ask.”

He didn’t say anything, not that you expected any different from him, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes slid over your face until he was looking behind you towards his friend.

You sighed softly even though the action spiked your curiosity, shifting so you were facing him on the couch with your back towards Jake, scooting towards the quiet boy so your knee was bumping into the side of his thigh. He swallowed harshly and you spotted a hint of red creeping back up his neck, only worsening when you were leaning closer to him and glancing at his parted lips. “Can I kiss you?”

He seemed startled but not at all by the fact his friend was still in the room, sitting on the same couch as you and watching the two of you intensely as you tried to navigate his silence. He was nodding softly but you could tell he was nervous, even more so when you were leaning forward to press against him and he stayed rigid.

You pecked his lips a few times softly, not able to do much else considering he wasn’t moving at all and you were two seconds from pulling away and abandoning the idea completely before Jake was speaking from behind you.

“Show him properly.” His tone was lower than you’d heard it before and you jumped slightly at the reminder that he was there, his voice closer than you remembered.

“What?” You were turning your body back around to be able to look at him but you paused when you saw the way he was looking at you, close enough now that if you completely turned your head your noses would have bumped into each other.

“That isn’t a kiss.” He was shaking his head just enough for it to be noticeable and his hair fell into his face more, blonde strands covering his eyes and making him look more disheveled than you’d seen him look before. You were offended for half a second and planning to explain to him why kissing Heeseung was almost impossible but you stopped when you realized he was staring down at your lips as they parted to speak.

He seemed to notice you’d stopped because of his gaze and he met your eyes for just a second before he was surging forward to kiss you.

You were only startled for a second before melting against him, leaning forward in his direction when you felt his hand gripping your chin almost harshly and keeping you in place as he moved against you. He was turning your head at an angle and you realized it was to give Heeseung better viewing access, forgetting all about it when Jake was slipping his tongue into your mouth.

He was the complete opposite of Heeseung in general but especially when it came to kissing and you barely had any time to process it, wet and sloppy as he squeezed your face again before pushing your head back so you weren’t touching anymore.

You watched him with a startled expression, slightly dazed from how out of nowhere this all seemed and the lingering feeling of his spit on your chin. You imagined you looked a bit stupid in that moment, eyes wide as you stared at him with slightly squished cheeks between his big hand. He didn’t seem to mind considering he was smiling softly at you for a second before turning your head so you were facing Heeseung again.

You’d almost completely forgotten about him and a wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over you until you realized he looked almost as affected as you did, staring at you intensely with red cheeks and low eyes.

Jake was nudging you in his direction wordlessly and you followed his silent command easily, leaning into Heeseung again and this time finally being able to kiss him properly. He still was amateurish and seemed a bit lost but seeing a direct example must have given him some direction considering he was atleast moving with you now, kissing you much slower and sweeter than how Jake was just a few seconds again.

It felt overly dirty to kiss two people back to back so quickly like this but it strangely sent a fire to your lower stomach instead of disgusting you, feeling the other boys presence and command behind your back even though he wasn’t touching you and hadn’t vocally said anything.

Heeseung was pulling away to take a breath, his glasses sliding down his nose, and you tried to catch your own but you didn’t have a chance considering Jake’s hand was gripping your chin again and turning you back towards him.

His mouth was on yours again and you let out a soft whine at the feeling of him sitting up slightly so he could push himself deeper against you, licking into your mouth so vulgarly that you couldn’t help the gasp that slipped from your mouth into his. Your chest was rising and falling quickly as you got overwhelmed between them, only getting faster when he was turning you softly so you were facing forward.

You were confused for a second before he was pulling off the kiss and grabbing just underneath your knee, pulling your left leg over his lap so you were spread wide open and facing the TV, head lolling back against the couch in a kiss drunk daze when his mouth was moving down your neck and biting down softly on your skin.

His hand was softly caressing your knee that was on top of his lap and you spread your legs more to try and get him to move it up slightly, not even realizing the movement was causing your other leg to be pushed against Heeseung’s frame until he was hesitantly touching the smooth skin of your thigh. He didn’t hitch it over his lap like his friend did but he was at least touching you finally and you gasped softly as you looked at him with hooded eyes.

He still seemed nervous and awkward but you watched a small wave of confidence come over him from your reaction, his hand large enough to cover a lot of your bare thigh and even accidentally hitch closer to your core once he started to rub it softly. You were letting out another small whine and impatiently lifting your hips to try and scoot further down the couch, purposely causing their hands to slide up your legs and finally touch you where you needed.

Heeseung moved his hand back down to your thigh swiftly but Jake stayed touching you under your skirt, a soft chuckle falling from his lips due to your neediness.

“Look at you.” He was speaking in a low tone against your neck and another shiver ran through you when you felt his breath on the side of your face, turning your head a bit so you could look at him as he spoke. “Spread open so nicely for us.”

The use of the word grouping him and Heeseung together didn’t miss you and neither did the dirty feeling it brought along with it, fully processing by now that you were being touched by two different set of hands and their spit was mixing together on your tongue. Your hips rolled on their own as he spoke so vulgarly, eyes shutting in pleasure when you felt his thumb shift closer to your core.

He didn’t waste any time and didn’t bother teasing you any further thankfully, shifting in his spot on the couch so he could watch your reaction even when he hand was sliding up your stomach and then back down inside of your panties, both of you pausing for a second when he made contact with the wetness dripping down your thighs now.

You let out a soft cry at the feeling of him touching you considering how sensitive you were and you didn’t care enough to be embarrassed of the fact you were seconds away from leaking onto their couch, hitching your legs up further to try and get him keep touching you where you needed him most.

Breath hitching next to you caught your attention and you glanced over lazily to see Heeseung staring down at where Jake’s hand had gone, eyes wide as he caught sight of what was happening and saw how wet you’d gotten just from kissing them both. He must’ve felt you staring because he was making eye contact with you seconds later, freezing up until your eyes were dropping down to his lips and a whine was slipping from your mouth again.

He thankfully got the message and he was taking a deep breath before leaning in to kiss you again, his hand on your thigh stilling as he put all of his focus on kissing you softly.

The contrast between him gently kissing you like you were fragile versus Jake roughly gripping your leg and keeping you spread open wide for him was making your head dizzy and you could barely keep up with Heeseung’s mouth. He didn’t seem to mind considering he continued to keep leaning into you and licking softly against your mouth, letting out small gasps and groans everytime you sucked on his tongue or wrapped it with yours.

“Fuck hyung she’s getting so wet from kissing you.” Jake sounded almost pained next to your ear and you wondered if it was from the feeling of your cunt or the sight of you and Heeseung sloppily kissing just a few inches from his face.

Heeseung ignored him but you felt his hand tighten against your thigh at his friends words, rolling your hips again at the feeling and moaning into the boys mouth when Jake’s fingers started to rub your sensitive clit in slow circles. Your hands were coming up to grip onto one of Heeseung’s shoulders, moaning sharply at the sensation and nearly losing your mind from the amount of pleasure you were receiving between them.

“Please please.” You were suddenly begging but you weren’t exactly sure who you were talking to or what you were asking, overwhelmed with desperation for both of them.

“What baby?” Jake was asking softly in your ear again but his tone was almost mocking, still rubbing you with his fingers and keeping your legs spread almost painfully wide. “Tell me what you want and we’ll give it to you.”

You thought for a few seconds the best you could through the haze, glancing at Heeseung for confirmation and watching as he eagerly nodded in agreement before softly squeezing your thigh again. You were opening your mouth to try and request moving further when you were cut off by the sound of fist pounding on the door.

All at once it hit you, the panic of possibly being caught in such a vulnerable position followed by the embarrassment and self disgust considering you were spread between two men that you didn’t know very well, wet around one of their fingers and practically begging for them to keep touching you. You felt like somebody had thrown a bucket of cold water at you and you were swiftly sitting up on the couch, smacking Jake’s hand away and fixing your skirt after he’d removed it.

He watched you for a second with panic in his eyes before the knocking resumed even louder, annoyance settling over his face as he let out a rough sigh and stood up off the couch to go and answer it.

Your hand was shakily coming up to cover your mouth and you tried your best to ignore the fact Heeseung was still sitting next to you, mouth wet from where you’d been desperately licking into the kiss. You could feel him shifting uncomfortably and you were worried he was planning to speak to you so you stood up and quickly rushed down the hallway towards the bathroom as you heard Jake start to greet the guest for the party you’d completely forgotten about.

——

You stayed in the bathroom for around forty minutes until you felt like it was less noticeable you had just been seconds away from getting fingered, waiting for the music to start playing and the sounds of people drinking and loosening up to overwhelm the loud pounding of your heart.

When you ventured back out into the main area you still felt just as embarrassed, being the only person who wasn’t mutual friends with somebody there. You were barely friends with Jake and Heeseung either and you suddenly felt like an intruder despite how intimate you’d all been together less than an hour ago.

You had a few drinks to try and calm your nerves but avoided making conversation with any of the boys friends, pretending you didn’t feel Jake continuously staring and checking on you throughout the night. Heeseung was nowhere to be found for the first hour but eventually you realized that he was hiding out in the corner by the speaker, taking sips out of a half empty cup and looking just as awkward as you felt despite the fact it was his party and these were his friends.

It must’ve been the past annoyance you felt towards his staring at the diner mixed with the alcohol starting to settle over you that drove you in his direction.

He tensed when he saw you steadily approaching but then his gaze was dropping down to your mouth and staying there.

“Stop staring at my lips.” You were spitting out at him and he flinched back at the tone of your voice, glancing around like he was checking to see if anybody had heard you. “Do you guys do this type of shit all the time?”

“W-what? What are you talking about?” He was speaking louder than normal so you could hear him over the music and leaning forward to hear you before deciding against it and pressing back into the corner. His eyebrows were pulled forward in confusion and another wave of annoyance washed over you, this time at yourself for finding him extra cute considering he was almost pouting down at you.

“Find a girl you like and pretend like you don’t have any experience so she fucks you and your friend.” You delivery was sharp and deadpanned like you were overly confident in your discovery but you knew that wasn’t what was happening here exactly, just saying anything to try and hurt him since you were feeling embarrassed.

“How could you say that?” His tone was still soft like it always was but you could tell he was offended by your accusation, pausing and looking over your shoulder so quickly you didn’t even realize it.

You were forced to in a second however when you could feel somebody approaching from behind you, already knowing who it was despite not realizing how loud and heated your conversation with Heeseung had just gotten until you turned your head to see the concerned expression on Jake’s face as he stopped a few inches away from the two of you. “What happened?”

Nobody said anything for a few beats and your jaw clenched with irritation, crossing your arms and feeling embarrassed again now that the two of them were with you. “She thinks we lied and used her.” Heeseung was butting in to explain awkwardly and you shifted uncomfortably when Jake’s surprised gaze shot over to you.

He didn’t immediately move to deny it but you could tell by his expression that he was taken off guard by the fact you were feeling that way, glancing down at your crossed arms under your chest before his gaze was softening and he started to shake his head in denial. You knew by now that you’d been wrong and they weren’t using you but you were too far into your bratty fit to completely backtrack.

Jake’s big hands were coming back up to your arms again like they had earlier when he was stopping you from leaving and your breath hitched when you looked at his fingers, a heat rolling over you at the lingering feeling of him rubbing you slowly under your skirt.

He had originally planned to defend himself and Heeseung but when he noticed your dazed out expression and wandering gaze, he paused and a smirk built back up on his face.

You let him tug you forward by your arms and spin you around softly, facing you towards Heeseung who looked extremely confused by what was happening considering you’d just been bitching him out harshly only a few seconds ago. He watched as his friends hands wrapped around your stomach and pinned your back against his front, staying still against the wall even when Jake was softly moving the both of you to the music and the tension left your shoulders.

“You feel used?” He was whispering in your ear and a breath escaped you, head falling back to land on his shoulder from the pleasure of him rubbing against you. “We aren’t using you but… something tells me you wouldn’t mind.”

The two of you were facing Heeseung which meant your backs were turned towards the party and other guest but it still felt extremely dangerous to be dancing like this, especially when his hand was sliding down your stomach and pushing under the waistline of your skirt. You faltered in place and would’ve tipped forward and fallen if it wasn’t for Heeseung instinctively stepping off the wall and catching you against him.

He tensed along with you considering he was now flush against your front and his hands were holding your hips softly to help steady you.

He was making the move to take a few steps back towards the wall but stopped when your hands were reaching forward to grab onto his shoulders, keeping him pressed against you and titling back again so you could feel Jake on your back. You were completely sandwiched between them now and a small whine slipped out of you when you felt the bolder boys fingers softly rubbing your clit through your underwear.

“Watch her hyung, so filthy for us even when she’s upset.” Heeseung seemed thrown off by being so directly addressed but he followed orders easily, staring down at you intensely and turning red in the face at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open.

You knew he was a lot bigger than both you and Jake but the difference was especially noticeable now that you were all pressed together, towering over the two of you and completely shielding your body from the view of people passing by as his friend continued to touch you.

“Kiss her Hee, I wanna see how wet she can get.” His voice was low and almost a groan and you felt his hips moving again behind you, rubbing his hardness against your back and impatiently rolling up your skirt more so he could drag himself along your folds without the second layer of fabric in the way.

It took him a second but Heeseung eventually listened, leaning down to kiss you now that you were standing and it felt particularly dirty to be meeting his lips in this position. You gasped into his mouth when Jake harshly pinched your sensitive bud, giving him the opportunity to lick into your open lips and stick his tongue deeper than he had earlier.

You were quickly learning that he was an extremely dirty kisser and he almost seemed feverish the longer he felt you against him, momentarily losing his shy demeanor and becoming completely addicted to kissing you so messily. You were turning your head so you could suck his tongue further into his mouth and a wave of satisfaction hit you when he was whining softly and bucking his hips forward, both sending you further into Jake and letting you feel his own hardness.

Jake’s finger was slipping inside you as you practically let his friend fuck your mouth with his tongue, wetness dripping down your thigh and crying out softly at the feeling of his thick digit finally pushing into you.

You were standing onto your tiptoes and dropping back down to try to get him to fuck you with his fingers but he was roughly groping your chest as a warning to stop, biting against your neck softly and moving his hand under your chin. He wasn’t exactly choking you but the feeling of his large hand completely covering your throat brought out another whine that Heeseung quickly swallowed.

“Fuck Y/N you’d let us take you right here wouldn’t you?” His voice was breathy and he rubbed himself against you again in sync with the assault his fingers continued. “Have you taken two cocks before baby or would we have to force them inside?”

You were shaking your head and clawing at Heeseung’s shoulders absentmindedly, breathy moans falling from your lips and stopping you from being able to kiss properly. He took the hint and pulled back to let you speak clearly but his eyes stayed on your wet lips and chin. “Have to force it Jake, would be so tight you wouldn’t fit.”

“Is that what you want angel? You want both of us inside you, fucking your greedy hole so loose.” He was panting as he spoke and you could feel tears coming to your eyes from the speed of his fingers inside you.

His hand on your neck was squeezing tightly for a second and taking your breath from you before he was moving it up to roughly grip your chin, tugging your head straight so you had no choice but to stare up at Heeseung who was watching the two of you with a wild expression, face completely red and glasses slightly skewed from your intense kissing. “Look at him and say it.”

You shook your head for a second and winced, feeling overwhelmingly shy for some reason now that you were looking at the less forward boy despite the fact you were still pressed against him and could feel that he was also hard against your stomach. You could still taste him in your mouth even but you weren’t able to bring yourself to say it right away, snapping back out of it when Jake lifted his hand to lightly slap your cheek in warning.

“I want you.” You were staring up at him as you rushed it out in an embarrassed mumble, your cheeks heating up more but feeling the familiar twist in your stomach when his eyes flashed with something you hadn’t seen before. “Want you both.”

Heeseung was moving forward before you could even process it and suddenly you were kissing again, his big hands coming up to cup your face softly and keep you against him as he fully soaked you in.

You were getting needy and impatient, Jake’s thick fingers not being enough considering the amount of touching and overstimulation you were getting between the two of them. You almost wanted to cry thinking about the party happening behind you, wanting nothing more than to be alone so you could completely give yourself over to the two boys.

It was beyond dirty and completely unlike you considering you weren’t a big fan of hookups in general, never even considering letting two people share you at once, but you’d never craved something so badly and you felt like you’d nearly die if you didn’t get to feel them soon.

Heeseung was pulling off the kiss and watching you as he took deep breaths, eyes frantic and continuously glancing between the way you were panting against Jake’s shoulder and his friends expression as he pushed his fingers deeper inside you.

“Jake, make them leave.” He was muttering quickly and your eyes widened in surprise for a second hearing him speak so directly, a similar reaction happening behind you considering Jake’s hands were stuttering for a second.

They had some sort of silent communication over your shoulder that didn’t take long for you to understand considering Jake was taking his hand out of your skirt and softly leaning you onto Heeseung’s tall frame. You could feel his lips pressing against the side of your head before he was backing up to presumably tell the guest to leave.

Heeseung was awkwardly holding you for a second and you felt slight whiplash from his change of demeanor again, happy when he at least started to move and take you back down to his bedroom.

He was gently laying you on the bed and sitting back up on his knees to watch you for a second, scanning down your body as your chest continued to roughly rise and fall from your near orgasm just a few seconds ago. He was looking more hesitate now like he had originally and your gaze softened as you looked at him watching you so intensely, remembering this was his first time doing something so intense.

Your hand was coming out to grab onto his and he was freezing from his position beside you, kneeling on the bed and towering over you but not looking the least bit intimidating.

“Please touch me Hee.” Your voice was still coming out in a whine, desperately tugging on his hand to try to get him to fulfill your request. His eyes widened at your tone and he glanced down at your hand over his before shaking his head softly, stuttering out something you couldn’t understand. “Please baby please, I’ll show you how but I can’t wait.”

“F-fuck we should really let Jake come back, I won’t be any good.” He was shaking his head again but not moving his hand away when you were lifting it and placing it against your stomach, your muscles clenching under his warm skin and a heavy breath slipping from your lips.

Heeseung watched you with wide eyes as you pushed his hand under your skirt, struggling a bit and whining softly considering he wasn’t helping at all. You released his hand for a second and thankfully he didn’t remove it from your stomach, giving you the chance to unbutton it and pull it down your legs so he could have more access.

You were holding his wrist softly and moving him back down towards your underwear, back arching up off the bed in a small cry when he was finally touching you over the fabric and you heard his breath catch in his throat when he felt your wetness soaking the material.

“You’re s-so good please Hee please.” You were crying out softly and rocking your hips up against his hand, a handful of tears slipping from your eyes considering you were so overwhelmed and he still wasn’t really touching you. “Fuck you’re so big.”

The last comment slipped out accidentally, completely distracted by the fact his hand almost covered the entirety of your cunt, but it seemed like he liked it considering he was shifting on the bed and finally applying some pressure to you.

A low moan sounded through the room and it took you a second to even realize it was coming from you, his fingers soft and inexperienced as he started rubbing you and you felt him tense when your wet panties were sliding to the side and he was touching your bare cunt for the first time. Your hands were instinctively coming up to hug his arm and try to tug him down towards you, grateful when he shifted so he was laying beside you and not kneeling anymore.

He kept his fingers on you even when you were pulling him in for a messy kiss, gliding your tongue over his lips and moaning into his open mouth when his fingers slipped again and applied more pressure.

You didn’t realize Jake had entered the room even after the bed dipped down under his weight, only snapping out of your haze when Heeseung removed his lips from yours so he could stutter out an apology to his friend. You were sitting up slightly to look at him and a whine left you automatically seeing how dark his gaze was as he watched you desperately moving against his friends hand.

“She’s as much yours as she is mine.” He was dismissing the other boys apology in a curt statement but it made your head spin, the implication of them both owning you together sending another wave of heat through you and another sob hit you. “Hyung, hold her legs open for me.”

Heeseung was pausing like he was trying to figure out how to do that, eventually scooting behind you so he could tug you up between his legs. You were resting against his chest and stomach, elbows on his thighs and you could feel how hard he was pressed tight to your lower back. He moved you easily, like you barely weighed anything and his size made you ten times wetter than you had been before.

You felt extra exposed now that his hands weren’t covering you, embarrassment coming back when he was hitching up your knees so he could spread your legs and completely expose you to Jake who was watching the two of you curiously.

“Look how messy she is. She must really like you hyung.” He was smiling at the two of you but it didn’t meet his eyes fully, something darker and more intense behind his expression and you tried not to feel too intimidated when he was moving closer to you on the bed.

He watched you for a second more before he was pressing a kiss against your knee, moving his lips down your right thigh and pausing for just a second before he was putting his mouth on your wet core. A gasp flew out of you and you would’ve clamped his head in your thighs if it wasn’t for Heeseung’s hand gripping your knee tightly and keeping them spread open.

“Fuck fuck.” Your hips were instinctively moving with Jake’s mouth, practically making out with your dripping pussy and you were once again overwhelmed in a way you’d never experienced before. Heeseung was softly brushing your hair out of your face with his free hand but you barely even noticed, the room filling up with the sounds of Jake’s mouth on you.

His tongue was pushing past your folds and prodding at your entrance, drawing another low whine from you when he was glancing up at you from between your legs. His eyes were mischievous and you could barely hold the eye contact for more than a few seconds, leaning back against Heeseung’s chest and gripping his arm for support.

“Take her top off.” He was pulling off of you to speak to the boy behind you and your eyes locked on your wetness coating his chin, his lips quirking into a smirk when he noticed what you were focusing on before he was softly kissing your thigh again.

Heeseung easily sat you up, almost rough in the way he was moving you so weightlessly if it wasn’t for how gentle his hands were. He was pulling your top off and fixing your hair before pausing and you felt his hips twitch from underneath you, figuring he just be looking at your bare chest. You knew he wouldn’t move on his own so you didn’t bother waiting, taking his free hand that wasn’t on your knee and forcing him to roughly pull at your chest.

Jake was smiling at your neediness before going back between your legs, the pleasure from his mouth paired with Heeseung’s hands on your chest and nipples was almost too much and you only lasted about thirty seconds before you were roughly tugging on the younger boys hair to warn him to stop.

He froze completely and looked up at you, beautiful between your legs and even more so with the concern in his gaze. He quickly realized what you were needing however and he lost the soft expression.

“Sure you can take us both?” He was asking as he sat up on his knees, looping his hands under your thighs and tugging you forward so you were sliding closer to him on the bed. Your head was on Heeseung’s lap now and he let out a soft whine when you were instinctively nuzzling against the hardness in his pants, your cheek pressing on him.

You didn’t bother with verbally answering him considering how dizzy you felt, knowing your voice would just come out slurred and weak, but you spread your legs more in front of him so he could fully get the memo. His eyes were darkening more before he was gesturing something you couldn’t understand to the boy behind you, a cry coming from your lips when he was shifting and moving away from you.

“Be patient sweet girl, he’s just moving down here.” Jake’s voice was coming through again and a pout formed on your face instinctively at his soft tone, getting close to release twice now without finishing and feeling overly sensitive and needy. “She’s pretty isnt she?”

You were confused for a second about who he was talking to until you realized Heeseung was down by the end of the bed now, fully seeing you for the first time since he’d undressed you and staring at your body with widened eyes. They flickered up to yours when he realized you were watching and waiting for a response.

“So pretty, she’s so pretty.” His voice was weak and Jake laughed softly at the taken tone his friend had, nodding in agreement before he was shifting again.

“Gonna fuck you first alright baby? Get you nice and ready for hyung.” His voice was dropping lower and getting more serious, tugging his shirt over his head and barely giving you a second to process anything before he was undoing his belt with one hand, holding your legs open with the other.

“Both I want both.” You were whining out in disagreement, a small sob hitting you again at the thought of not being stretched by both of them together.

Jake paused for a second before he was glancing to his side towards Heeseung, waiting and having some silent communication together until he was turning back towards you and nodding. “You’ll get us both don’t worry, still need to stretch you first.”

You were almost worried he’d go back to using his fingers, as much as you liked them inside you you were starting to think you’d die if you didn’t have something bigger in the next few seconds. Thankfully he seemed to be feeling the same considering he was wasting no time before lining himself up with your entrance, kissing your forehead quickly before pushing inside you.

Your breath caught in your throat and your back arched off the bed instinctively, bunching the sheets up in a tight fist and you wished Heeseung was close enough to hold onto. You didn’t get a chance to look at Jake’s size but he was clearly bigger than you had planned for considering the stretch you were feeling just from his thick tip inside you, a pained cry filling the room at the same time he hissed in pleasure.

“Fuck Y/N, how are you so fucking tight.” He was speaking through clenched teeth and his head dropped down onto your shoulder, shutting his eyes to try and calm down before he came too early. “Baby you’ve got to stop clenching around me or I won’t last.”

“You’re hurting her Jake.” Heeseung’s concerned voice was coming from the right and you glanced over at him, face pulled into a grimace still but softening slightly at the worry on his face.

It made you feel better that he was more concerned with your pleasure than potentially not being able to fuck you but you almost sobbed again at the thought of not getting to feel him tonight and you quickly started to shake your head and reach a hand out towards him.

“Can take it, I can take it I promise.” You didn’t need to say much for Jake to believe you considering he was using your distraction as the perfect time to fully push his length inside you.

Your hands were wrapping around his back to claw at his skin, somehow not noticing how broad he was until he was on top of you like this but you felt the familiar heat of pleasure finally resurfacing below the pain and you practically whimpered at the boy. “Please fuck me, please I need it.”

He was kissing your lips gently before taking a second to adjust his position, meeting your eyes and then pulling himself nearly all the way out of you. The previous stretch did almost nothing to prepare you for the feeling of him slamming back inside you, never feeling so stuffed before and almost getting lightheaded from how full of his cock you were. You couldn’t imagine fitting more inside you but you glanced back at Heeseung and another wave of desperation hit.

Jake let out a low growl before he was aggressively lifting you up off the bed, holding you still in his lap for a moment with a slow buck of his hips to keep you moaning and whining and you vaguely heard him barking an order towards the other boy.

You didn’t fully understand what was happening, rocking your hips and riding Jake lazily with continued cries and begs for him to lay you back down and fuck you properly. When he was finally listening and laying you back down on the bed, this time Heeseung was behind you and a breath of relief escaped you.

Part of you felt guilty that his first time wasn’t necessarily romantic or intimate but it was hard to think about when he started to push his cock into you alongside Jake’s, the stretch almost unbearable and you heard Jake spit out something else you couldn’t make out.

You assumed he was telling the inexperienced boy to stop because he froze up underneath you and laid his forehead on sweaty shoulder, small whimpers vibrating your skin as he tried to stop himself from either pushing all the way inside before you were ready or cumming from the tight and wet squeeze.

“Fuck she’s so wet.” His voice behind you was making you dizzy, taking on a deeper tone you hadn’t heard from him before and you reached a hand back just to feel any part of his skin.

The two boys helped lower you back onto their cocks and you nearly blacked out from how deep they were inside you, the pleasure multiplied by the fact they were both sharing your hole together and you were finally going to be fucked open by them.

“Gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else.” Jake was whispering it into your mouth and you watched him with widened eyes, shivering when he was licking against your tongue sloppily before tugging your head back by your hair so you were resting against Heeseung’s shoulder. “Always gonna need two cocks filling this nasty hole up, never going to be satisfied with just one again.”

“Please.” You were gasping the word out in one breath, repeating it a few times in a slurred fit of begging before trying to gather as much energy as you could to lift yourself up and down on their cocks. You failed and fell back down on shaky thighs, crying softly and rolling your hips slightly. “Fuck me please fuck me, ruin me. I want to be yours.”

That seemed to cause something to snap in the boy in front of you and he wasted no more time, aggressively fucking himself inside you and at the same time lifting you up a bit so you were coming back down onto Heeseung’s cock too, helping the other boy set a steady rhythm considering he was already close just from the foreplay you’d had earlier since he was particularly sensitive.

“You’re ours, gonna fucking ruin you.” Jake was talking continuously into your shoulder but you were barely able to hear him after a few seconds, lost in the feeling of the stretch and how deep they were inside you. Both boys were caging you in and someone’s hands were roughly playing with your nipples, anothers tugging your hair and it was all so much you hardly felt like you were able to breathe.

You were a mess of skin and lust, your whines mixing with a combination of their low moans and you were suddenly very grateful they’d cleared out the apartment so you didn’t have to worry about biting your tongue.

Heeseung was reaching forward to press down on your stomach and you heard a groan slip out of him. “Fuck dude, I can feel us inside her.”

That seemed to be enough for him considering he was sucking in a sharp breath, worrying you for a second before you realized he was cumming inside you. You were upset for half a second before you thought about both of them filling you up with their cum, mixing together and leaking out of your used hole onto Heeseung’s bed.

“Cum inside Jake.” You were begging him and he gave you a bewildered look, almost seeming like he was going to disagree until he leaned back and saw the absolute desperation and need on your face. His jaw clenched and he was fucking you even rougher, barely noticing his friend slipping out of you and helping you rock against Jake since you were both exhausted.

He was rushing forward to kiss you and your teeth clashed, drunk from the taste of his spit in your mouth and his cock slamming into you even after he was coming undone and filling you up even more. Heeseung’s hands were slipping between you and Jake to rub your clit softly and surge of pride hit you, moaning into Jake’s mouth and letting him suck your tongue into it.

The extra stimulation was all you needed to fall apart and both boys held you between them as your hips twitched and your stomach clenched in pleasure, feeling Jake slip out of you so he could watch the way your hole clenched around nothing and started to leak with the mess the three of you had caused.

You were too exhausted to feel awkward even though now that they weren’t stuffing you so full you couldn’t think, you were slightly humiliated and feeling a bit dirty from how sweaty you were between the two friends.

All it took was a hand from behind you gently rubbing your stomach and a soft kiss on your forehead from the other boy to calm your nerves, falling back onto the bed together in a mess of limbs and nervous giggles.

[oo-delallymrcrow]

A Slice of Love

A/N: Ur my fav cooper howard writer all ur writing is so good 🤭🤭 could i request some coop smut? I had the idea of him being like really depressed after the divorce and frequenting this dinner like every night. He started going initally to drown his sorrows in pie but then he kept going because he started falling for the night shift waitress. Hes like rlly embarrassed about it bc hes old and jusr got divorced but shes all he can think about like a love sick puppy. Idk if you do 2nd person but if you do could i request this be in 2nd person too ty :))

I hope this is what you wanted 😆 it took me a while, but it was fun writing this. So I hope you enjoy. I also messed up and didn't do it in second person but don't worry I went back to fix that so if I missed something I am sorry.

18+ no minors, wrap it before you tap it, whole different meaning to creampie

The bell above the dinner rang out. It was getting close to midnight so ot was a loud sound in the small diner. You looked up from the counter you were cleaning to see a tall man come into the diner. He looked around for a second to take in the scene.

A young couple was sat in a booth talking quietly to themselves lost in their little world. An older gentleman sat at the bar, nursing a hot coffee and having a piece of pie.

He nodded to me in greeting but you noticed his eyes didn't meet with yours. He then sat himself in a corner booth. You finished wiping off the counter and walked up to Bobby, the old man at the bar.

“Need more coffee Bobby?”

“Nope all good here dear.”

You nodded with an alright before walking to the corner booth. You stopped in front of the man and pulled out a pad and pen.

“Welcome to Ruby’s Dinner. Can I get you anything?”

“Uh, how about a cup of coffee.”

“Nothing else?”

“No thank you.”

You walked over to the pot of fresh coffee and bring him a mug and poured his coffee out for him.

“So what brings you in here this late?”

“Just need a different view.”

You sat for a minute for him to continue but he didn't. You walked back over behind the counter and started sorting the silverware. The young couple walked over to the register and you met them there. You rang up their total before the woman gasped.

“Darling is that who I think it is?”

The man handed you the cash before following her pointed finger. He scoffed as he shook his head.

“Sure is baby. That's Cooper Howard.”

You glanced over your shoulder to said man they were talking about. He was just staring out the window with his mug between his hands. You turned back to hand the man his change and added in polite conversation.

“The movie star?”

The man scoffed again, “Yeah that washup. He sold himself out to vault-tec and ruined his career. Then his wife divorced him and took everything. He's nothing at this point.”

The couple walked as the lady on his arm giggled at his explanation. But you just didn't understand why they judged him. Yeah he's a movestar but that doesn't mean we know everything about his life. You walked by the display of sweets and stopped. You pulled out a piece of cherry pie and placed a dollop of whipped cream on top. You then grabbed the pot of coffee and the pie.

Walking over to the man, now you know as Cooper Howard, and placed the plate in front of him. As you set the plate down it startled him out of whatever thought he was in. He stared at the pie before looking up at you.

You felt most of the air leave your lungs as the diner light caught the color in his eyes. They were pretty like a dark forest. He pointed at the pie.

“I didn't order this.”

“I know.” You looked down as you filled his cup again. If anything, to catch your breath as his eyes stayed on you the whole time. You smiled and took a step back, catching his eyes again. “But everyone deserves a little sweetness.”

You then turned and walked back into the kitchen. Walking over to the walk-in fridge and standing in there for a while. You waited until the heat went away from your cheeks and walked back out. Harvey was cleaning the grill as you walked past.

“You good kid?”

“Yep all good Harv.” You grabbed a wet rag and walked back out into the dining room before walking over to the empty table that the couple left.

Cleaning it off was a quick process but you felt hot from someone staring. Knowing its Cooper Howard and you try your best to ignore it but can feel your cheeks get warm again. You turned to take the plates back and catch his eyes again. He smiled as you walked past and you smiled back. When you came back out he was standing by the register.

“Was that all for you tonight?”

“Yes miss. That pie was delicious thank you for that.”

You smiled as you rang him up for the coffee.

“Alright that will be thirty-two cents.”

He stopped and was confused, “what about the pie?”

“On the house tonight.”

He looked down before pulling out the money and handing it to you. You smiled and realized he was blushing. You hummed as you handed him his change and a receipt.

“I hope you have a wonderful night sir.”

“You too miss.”

You walked over to clean up his table and smiled at the empty plate.

—----------------------------------------------------------

It was another week before you saw him again. It was earlier that night. You still had a few tables with people eating late diners and Bobby at the counter again. You helped the next customer before turning around at the bell running out. It was Cooper again. He caught your eye as he was glancing around. You gave him a smile before turning and giving an order to Harvey.

You turned and watched Cooper settle himself down on a stool at the counter instead of taking a booth. You took in a breath before walking out to greet him.

“We'll hello again sir.”

“Hello and uh call me Cooper please.”

“Alrighty then Cooper,” You drawled out as you smiled. “What can I get you today?”

“Coffee please miss.”

“Y/N please. If I get to call you Cooper.” You placed a mug in front of him and poured out his coffee. “You can at least call me by my name.”

He chuckled as he lifted the mug up to his mouth, “Alright then Y/N.”

You had to turn around and make yourself busy as he said your name. The southern voice made you melt a little and you always loved a cowboy. After the night he was here, ypu went home and turned on your TV to see that they were playing a Cooper Howard movie. It made you fall a little in love with his character and wanted to just hear him talk forever with that twang.

You grabbed the next order as Harvey put it out and walked over to the table to give it to them. You had a great thought of giving him another pie as you walked past him. Walking back to the kitchen and pulling out a tub of vanilla ice cream. You popped a slice of apple pie into a warmer for a bit before putting it on a plate and scooping a bit of the ice cream next to it. You grabbed a cherry pie with whipped cream for Bobby before walking out.

You gave Bobby his pie and got a ‘thanks dear’ for it before walking over and placed the apple pie in front of Cooper. He was surprised and licked his lips as he looked up.

“More pie?”

“You deserve some sweetness Cooper.”

You turned and helped people at the register but couldn't keep the burning off your cheeks as you continued on with your shift. You could feel the heat of his gaze every time you walked past him but other than that you both didn't interact. It wasn't until he was ready to pay did you talk to him again.

“How was everything tonight Cooper.”

“Delicious like last time Y/N. How much do I owe you?”

“Same as last time,” you blushed as he shook his head.

“Now sweetheart. You can't keep giving me pies without letting me pay for ‘em.”

“But you don't ask for them. I give them to you as a gift.”

You chuckled as he just shook his head again. He paid for his coffee and put a couple dollars in the tip jar.

“I'll at least make sure you're taken care of.”

He flashed a bright smile and you couldn't help but blush. As he walked out you couldn't help the sigh that escaped. A chuckle came from your left and turned to see Bobby.

“You look like a little puppy in love girl.”

You pouted as you cleared Cooper's dishes.

“I do not.”

“Uh huh.” He shook his head as you walked past.

‘You were not in love.’

—----------------------------------—---------------------

‘Shit. You may be in love.’

Over the past few weeks it became a little routine. You would work late at night. Cooper would come in for a cup of coffee and you would serve him whatever pie you had for the day. He was polite and always seemed to charm with his little southern accent. Always loving a man with an accent.

As time went on, the laughter that didn't quite reach his eyes started to become genuine. There was a sparkle in his eyes again that shone just right when you could catch them.

A few times he actually ordered a meal. You would bring it out to him and he would let you steal a few fries off his plate if it got busy. You would still bring him a pie then he would ask with his southern charm to share a bite with him.

When there were quiet moments between pie bites, he would opened up a bit about his life. Who he is. What he did before the networks stopped working with him. The divorce and the custody battle.

You sat and let him just talk. He seemed like he had no one to talk to about this and you were happy to just sit and listen. When he cried, you couldn't help the little tears that slipped out.

You just couldn't believe this sweet man was going through so much. You just wanted to hold him and let him just hide away from the world. To just take care of him because he deserved to be taken care of.

“I'm so sorry that happened to you Cooper

I just could not imagine the pain your going through.”

He nodded as he wiped a few tears away. He smiled a little as he looked out the window.

“Out of everything though, I'm just happy I can still have Janey in my life. I do everything for her and I just want to make her proud of her dad.”

You couldn't help but to reach out and take his hand in yours. He stopped and looked at your hands then up. You gulped a little as you just stared at your hands.

“You, Cooper Howard, are a good man. You are a wonderful father to Janey and you show that by still being good to her and your ex-wife. After everything you still show people kindness. That makes Janey proud of you. By being good to people.”

It was silent for a few minutes and you slowly moved your hand away before Cooper wrapped his hand around your wrist. You gasped in surprise, looking up at Cooper as he smiled.

“Thank you darlin'. That means so much to me coming from you.”

You blushed and just waved away what he was saying.

“I'm just a waitress-”

“You're a waitress that showed me kindness,” he stopped me. You were just watching as his thumb rubbed against your pulse point.

“I heard that couple the first time I came in. They called me a washup and I deserved what happened to me. And you-” he shook his head with a laugh. “You didn't say any mean thing. You brought me a pie and said ‘everyone deserves a little sweetness’. I didn't think it was true but you kept being sweet to me. You always brought me a pie and talked with me. Even when you were running around busy.”

You laughed as you looked around at the now empty diner. As you turned to face him again you stopped to take him in. His eyes were tracing over myou before they stopped at your lips. You licked them subconsciously and he did the same. He caught your gaze and you felt a fire ignite inside of you. You glanced at the clock above the door, jumping as Harvey took a step out. His eyes shot between you too before nodding his head.

“You good at closing on your own?”

You nodded as you stood up. “Yeah I got it Harv. Have a goodnight.”

“You too,” he yelled out as he walked away. You stood for another few minutes before moving over to the front door and locking it, turning off the open sign. You started going through the motions of closing up before realizing Cooper was still there.

You stopped turning up the chairs to look over at Cooper who was just watching. You blushed before clearing your throat.

“Sorry Cooper I almost forgot to ring you up.”

“You're good darlin’.” He then stood and walked over to you as he pulled his wallet out. “How much do I owe you.”

“On the house today Cooper,” you felt yourself get breathless as he stopped right before you. You raked your gaze up from his chest to his face and saw he was already watching you. He licked his lips again as he put his wallet away.

“How ‘bout I pay you back I'm a different way.”

You tilted your head before he took another step forward. He had you pinned against the table and you threw your hands up to his chest as he placed his hands beside my hips on the table. He was leaning into you as his lips brushed against your ear.

“I hope I'm not being too forward when I say I want to try a different sweetness tonight.”

Your eyes shut tightly as a shiver ran through your body. You shook your head no as you grabbed onto his shirt. You felt his lips brush against your forehead and down your cheek. He brushed them against your lips and you couldn't stop the whimper of a please before he crashed his lips against yours.

You moaned as one hand grabbed your waist and the other wrapped around you to pull you even closer to him. You couldn't move away from him even if you wanted to. Being held this close was making you shake with need as you ran a hand up and into his hair. He pulled back to lick at your lips and moaned.

“Just sweeter than fucking pie.”

You moaned as you felt him through his pants and started panting like a bitch in heat.

“Cooper please. I need you.”

“Yeah darlin’? Do you need little ol’ me?”

He pushed his hips against you as you nodded yes. His hand got tangled in your hair as he pulled it back until you were nose to nose. You opened your eyes to see his burning with lust.

“Can you say it for me darling? Tell me you want me. That you need me. Please darlin’ I want to hear you say it.”

You moaned and closed your eyes as your thighs squeezed together. God, this man was so sweet and you just couldn't understand why everyone is so mean to him. You opened your eyes and could see more in his eyes. It wasn't just lust, there was a need to be wanted. And you were so happy to give it to him.

“Please Cooper. I need you. Please, I want you so badly. I need you to take care of me please.”

He slammed his lips against yours again and lifted you up onto the table. The skirt you were wearing gave him easy access to rub his hand against your panties. Making you roll your hips as he slowly rubs the wet spot that just keeps getting worse with the way he's handling you. His fingers slightly pressed harder to your clit and it made you pull away with a gasp.

“Can I take these off, sweet girl?”

You nodded as he placed a hand on your chest to push you down so you were laying flat on the table. You placed one foot on the table to lift your hips up so he could pull your panties down. He quickly put them into his back pocket before lifting your skirt up to see your pussy. You blushed as he cooed at you while he pushed your legs up.

“Look at you. You're so wet for me. Did I do this to you sweet girl?”

You whined out a yes as he ran a finger up your slit and rubbed your clit. You couldn't help but reach up to pull at his shirt. Pulling him down as you pushed up to meet him in a kiss.

“Cooper,” you moaned as he pushed a finger into you. “please just fuck me.”

He was trailing his lips down your neck before he pulled back to stare into your eyes.

“Are you sure? I don't have any protection with me.”

You kissed him again as you reached down to rub his cock through his pants. He pulled away with a hiss and bucked into your hand.

“It's alright. I want this and I know you want this too.”

He nodded as he fully pulled away from you. He fumbled with his belt buckle but quickly shoved his pants and underwear down. You couldn't stop your mouth from opening in awe at the size of him and reached out to stroke him. He groaned and threw his head back as he let you before grabbing your wrists to stop.

“You keep that up and I won't last.”

You giggled but laid back as he pushed your thighs up and wrapped both arms around them to pull you closer to him. You gasped as he shoved your legs up and rubbed his cock against your opening.

“You sure darlin’?”

“Yes,” you moaned as he pushed into you. You couldn't stop as your eyes began to water at how hot and heavy he felt inside of you. He pushed until he was fully inside and then stopped to breathe. You both sat there for a minute panting as he got comfortable. You wiggled your hips and he moaned before pulling out just to slam back in.

You squealed at the feeling and scrambled to hold onto his shirt. One hand grabbed the side of the table as one of his hands slammed down next to your hip as he leaned into you, almost bending you in half.

You couldn't help the noises that were coming out of your mouth as he kept moving. He just smiled and watched your face as he kept his pace. He suddenly shifted his hips and hit the spot that devastated you. You pulled his shirt until he was on top of you as you cried out.

“I'm close! Please, please just right there.”

“Are you gonna cum sweet girl? Come on, you can cum on my cock sweet girl. You deserve it.” He cooed into your ear as he kissed your cheek and captured your lips.

He snuck a hand between you and pressed against your clit. Giving it a little rub before you came with a cry of his name. As you tightened around him, you could feel his cock twitch when he trusted a few more times before coming inside of you.

You just saw white for a minute as the ringing in your ears died down and your shaky limbs relaxed. You were panting and carefully reached up to run your hand through Cooper's hair. He murmured something before nuzzling into your neck. You laughed as he cuddled with you.

You blinked your eyes open to finally see the dining room. You could feel both of your juices running down your thighs and settling under your ass. You pushed his shoulder with a groan.

“I gotta finish cleaning up, and clean myself up.”

He groaned but lifted himself up enough to kiss you. It was slower and sweeter than the way he was kissing before. You both smiled into the kiss before he slowly pulled out of you. You both hissed at the feeling before he leaned over and grab a few napkins to clean you both up.

“I'm gonna need a shower,” you sighed as he finished. He smiled and helped you stand, making sure you were stable before speaking.

“That makes both of us. Mind if I join you?”

You smiled as you grabbed his shirt and brought him down to kiss you again. His hand came down to squeeze your ass before his other hand came down to rub a finger against your wet pussy. You moaned before taking a step back.

“Help me finish closing and then you can join me.”

You never seen someone be so happy with mopping but you couldn't blame the man with how fast you finished wiping down the table. Both of you giggling and smiling as he drove you home that night for a long weekend.

Taglist: @danveration

[little-diable]

A Sacrifice for Him - Dean Winchester (smut)

I'm finally back to writing! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader get into a fight on a hunt, forcing them to part ways. But while Dean tries to drown his anger in beer, the reader is being kidnapped. Will they find back together to finally admit their feelings for one another?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), unprotected piv, mentions kidnapping and some typical SPN violence, friends to lovers, happy end of course

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.9k words)

Dean had his eyes focused on his hands, on the semi-cold bottle of beer he kept clinging to as if it was his lifeline, saving the older Winchester brother from drowning. His heart was pounding, still fired up from the fight he had found himself tangled in, growling angry words at (y/n). Fuck, his words kept ringing in his ears, followed by the sobs that had clawed through her, angry tears that had rolled down her cheeks like wine staining a piece of linen. 

The evening had started like many others, with the three of them hiding away in a corner of the new bar they had stumbled upon. Once again were they trapped in an unfamiliar town, following clues to fight against whatever kept the people living here on their toes. While Dean and Sam were preparing to fight against a nest of vampires, (y/n) had focused on something else, something that had pushed them into their fight.

Sam had found shelter in the bed of a girl he had met that very evening, giving his brother and (y/n) some alone time, hoping that they’d finally get over themselves and give into the feelings they’ve been fostering for years. But their evening had taken a few unforeseen turns, forcing annoyed grunts out of Dean as (y/n) tried to explain her theories, thoughts Dean couldn't and didn’t want to follow. 

By now he couldn’t remember why he had been so angry, perhaps he had been angry at himself, for not being able to speak those words he had always wanted to speak, confessing the love he felt for her. By now he couldn’t remember what she had replied, why she had tried to convince him of the ideas keeping her awake late at night. 

“Fuck.” Dean threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he drowned his last gulps of beer. It took him a few moments before his eyes found the bright screen of his phone, freezing as he realised how late it was, as he realised how many hours had passed since the fight, hours since he had last seen (y/n). 

Without thinking twice, Dean dialled her number, teeth running along his lower lip, anxiously waiting for her to pick up. But she didn’t, forcing Dean to deeply exhale, thumbs flying over the screen as he messaged her a few words, asking her to call him back. His green eyes kept staring at the seconds and minutes passing by, minutes where he was met with nothing but silence. 

Dean anxiously rose to his feet, reaching for his car keys to drive back to the bar where he had last seen (y/n), where he had stormed out into the dark night, leaving her behind. He couldn’t help but curse himself for being this stupid, for giving into his anger, leaving her behind with tears rolling down her cheeks. His heart picked up its pace as he parked in front of the bar, giving himself a few moments to try and regulate his breathing, picking up on nothing but silence. He couldn’t listen to any music, not when his thoughts were running wild, painting pictures that had an awfully sombre feeling to them. 

She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay. She has to be. Dean kept chanting the words, dirty boots meeting the ground as he walked back into the almost empty bar. With his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, Dean made his way to the bartender, staring at the elderly woman that seemed to recognise him, greeting Dean with a simple “Did you forget something here? I can’t promise you’ll find it, somebody most likely took it with them.”

“I’m looking for my friend, the woman I was here with.” His words had an unfamiliar tone to them, dripping with fear, with desperation. The woman studied him for a moment, palms pressed to the surface of the bar. Her eyes flickered to their surroundings, wandering to the booth where Dean and (y/n) had been sitting all these hours ago.

“She left a few minutes after you, I haven’t seen her since.” A heavy sigh left Dean, murmuring a small “Alright, thank you” before he left the bar once again. With his phone pressed to his ear, Dean made his way back to Baby, finding shelter in his car, back pressed against the leather seat. 

“Hello?” Sam’s tired voice rang in his ears, forcing Dean’s almost teary eyes to momentarily flutter close. “Dean? What’s wrong? It’s almost two am.”

“She’s gone.” Hurt flushed through him as the words rolled off his tongue, adding to the weight resting on Dean’s heart. His palms were sweaty, clearly projecting the fear he felt, the uncertainty making him tremble.

“What? (Y/n)?”

“Yes, fuck, who else could it be?” It took Sam a few moments to reply, Dean could pick up on a few rustling sounds, on an unfamiliar voice that asked Sam why he was leaving. 

“Pick me up, I’ll wait in front of the diner we had lunch at.”

……

Reader's POV:

She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open, forced to blink a few times before she could adjust to her dark surroundings. Heavy breaths left (y/n), trying to move around on the chair she had been tied to. Her insides screamed at her to call out for Dean, hoping that he was close.

The memories of their fight kept flashing through her mind, forcing a groan out of (y/n), once again realising how heavy the tension between her and Dean was. Fuck, no matter how angry she was at him, she’d always try to reach out, wanting and needing to feel him close. 

“You’re awake, finally!” (Y/n)’s eyes found the dark ones of an unfamiliar woman, hands balled into fists to prepare for whatever may happen to her. Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest, unable to breathe through the emotions rolling upon her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been trapped in a situation like this, without Dean or Sam close, hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had been on a hunt on her own. “We’ve prepared everything for you.”

“What are you talking about? Let me go!” Her voice had a raspy undertone to it, making (y/n) wonder how long she had been out for. The woman’s laughter rang through the darkness, disappearing from (y/n)’s sight before she could ask another question. Panic flushed through her, spurring her on as she tried to tug on the rope keeping her tied to the chair, hissing whenever the rope burned her skin, leaving ugly marks. 

Before (y/n) could even try to loosen the rope she heard the sound of a metallic door being pushed open, exposing other women that followed the one that had spoken to (y/n) moments ago. She froze in her movements, wide eyes taking in the burning stake she could see from her chair. The flames kept growing higher, flashing through the dark night, forcing goosebumps to rise on (y/n)’s forearms. Was this hell? Was she trapped in another world she couldn’t escape from?

“The time is finally right, we’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and the second we saw you, we knew. You're perfect for Him.” The woman from earlier kept talking to (y/n) as a few other women freed (y/n) from the rope. Before she could try to fight her way out of their grasp, she was picked up by them, carried outside as they chanted words she couldn’t understand. 

“Let me go you freaks! What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/n) could feel the heat of the flames on her skin, making sweat pool on her forehead like raindrops falling from the sky. No matter how much she tried to toss around in their grasp, there was no way out for her, and slowly it began to dawn on her that she was their sacrifice, about to be tossed to the flames. 

“Don’t fear the flames, he is waiting for you.” She couldn’t concentrate on the woman’s words, could only focus on the heavy tree trunk being brought closer, forcing her against it. Once again they wrapped some rope around her body, binding a crying (y/n) against the tree trunk. Dean’s name left her lips over and over again, hoping that the older Winchester brother would come and rescue her. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this.” The whimpers rolled off (y/n)’s tongue like a prayer, hoping that the women would wake from their state, that they’d realise how fucked up this very situation was, but they didn’t seem to pay her crying any mind.

“We have to, otherwise He will punish us. He asked us for sacrifices, so we gave them to him.” A groan left (y/n), reminding her of the words she had shared with Dean, how she had tried to convince him that they were hunting down a satanic cult, picking up on the carvings they found, on the signs and symbols. 

The women began to form a circle around the burning stake, chanting words in Latin, words (y/n) couldn’t pick up on. No longer were they focused on her, leaving her standing in the pale shadows of the dark night. Once again she tried to free herself, tugging on the rope as tears ran down her cheeks, tears that only picked up their speed as she felt a warm hand finding hers, making her heart pick up on its beat. 

“We got you, sweetheart, stay quiet for me.” Dean’s voice rang in her ears, forcing her eyes to flutter close for just a second, giving into the relief she felt. The women kept speaking their prayers, kept singing their songs, not noticing how the two brothers freed (y/n), how they guided her through the darkness with quick and quiet steps, leaving the forest behind before the women could notice them. 

……

“Come here.” Dean was sitting on the all too uncomfortable mattress of her motel bed, arms opened. (Y/n) moved closer, freshly showered, in a desperate need to feel Dean close. Without speaking a word she crawled into his opened arms, head resting on his chest, limbs tangled with his. Both were caught in their thoughts, reliving the past hours, glad that the two of them got to share a room while Sam slept down the hallway. Dean’s hand moved up and down her back, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric of the shirt of his she was wearing, covering her just enough to hide her panties. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry for saying all these words, I didn’t mean them, I was angry, at myself.”

“Why?” The word was murmured against the fabric of his dark shirt, hand fisting his flannel, scared that she’d be ripped from him again. A deep, shaky breath left Dean, eyes focused on the parts of her face he could admire from above. 

“Because I’m scared about what you make me feel, it’s been years, and I’m still so fucking scared of what you’re doing to me. I can’t concentrate around you, fuck, every hunt we’re on I’m close to throwing a fit, because I’m so scared you’ll end up hurt.” With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) lifted her head off his chest, eyes finding his forest green ones. She reached her hand out to cup his cheek, feeling his stubble pressing into her palm. 

“I feel the same, always have. But I’d rather worry about your safety than not worry about you at all, Dean.” He stared at her for a few moments before he closed the gap between them, lips slowly moving against hers, testing the waters as if he was scared that he was trapped in a dream. (Y/n) was pulled closer by Dean’s hands finding the back of her thighs, making her straddle his lap, hissing as the fabric of his worn out jeans rubbed against the inside of her thighs. 

A few curses left Dean as her clothed panties met his bugle, rubbing against his hardening cock, desperate to be freed from the confines of his clothes. Their moans blended together, forming a sound so sinful they’d end up in the darkest corners of Purgatory. 

“I need to be inside you, finally need to feel you wrapped around my cock.” Dean’s words forced a moan to claw through (y/n), eyes wide as she was flipped around, landing on the mattress with her back pressed against it. She watched Dean pull his flannel and shirt over his head, rising from the bed to step out of his jeans. (Y/n)’s eyes couldn’t help but wander down to his boxers, taking in the sight of his cock pressing against the thin fabric. 

Before she could snap out of her thoughts, Dean had already pushed the shirt she was wearing up her chest, exposing her breasts to his glistening eyes. Their eyes kept holding contact as his mouth found her warm skin, sucking on her hardening nipples, kneading her flesh with his big hands. Fuck, the mere thought of ever missing out on this left her trembling, silently thanking Dean and Sam for rescuing her, for saving her from the high flames. 

“More, please.” Her whispers left Dean smirking, forcing him to kiss his way down her body, fingers moving along the outlines of her damp panties. Once again their eyes met as he pulled the fabric down her legs, nestling between them to push his mouth against her heat. Her moans guided him on, hand finding his hair to tug on his roots, to force him even closer as his tongue brushed through her slit. Dean moaned at the taste of her arousal, hoping that he’d forever get to cherish her taste, finding pleasure in the way she choked on her gasps, how she moaned his name. 

“You taste so sweet, I always knew I’d end up being addicted to you, sweetheart.” Heat flushed through her, urged on by his praises, by the words that left her heart racing and her walls clenching around nothing. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, tongue pressed against her clit, teasing the pulsing bundle of nerves. He could tell that it wouldn’t take long for her to let go, no longer used to being touched like this, and certainly not by the man she had been in love with for years. “Want to feel you wrapped around me, want to make you cum with my cock.”

Another “Please” left (y/n), watching him free his cock, pumping himself a few times before he brushed his tip through her slit. Both held their breaths as he pushed into her, forcing her walls apart with a few curses rolling off his tongue. 

“Shit, I’ll never be able to stop fucking you, you feel so good.” Dean felt as if his soul was no longer part of his body, it felt all too unfamiliar to experience something he had wanted for this long, not used to ending up on the good side of fate, guided by a lucky strike. The sound of their bodies meeting echoed through the room, rough thrusts that left (y/n) choking and Dean groaning, hoping that they’d be able to last a few moments longer.

“Don’t you dare stop, I’m begging you.” (Y/n)’s words were murmured against his lips, chasing his mouth for a few more kisses as Dean pushed her closer and closer to the edge. His warm fingers took care of her clit, adding the right amount of pressure to push her into the veil of darkness that wrapped itself around her. With her eyes closed and her head thrown back (y/n) gave Dean enough room to suck on her throat, leaving marks she’d proudly wear the next morning, unable to stop her smile from widening whenever his eyes would flicker down to her throat.

“Come on, cum for me, doll.” Dean’s raspy words pushed her over the edge, moaning his name as he fucked her through her high. He didn’t stop moving, prolonging the moment for long enough, till he had to pull out, relieving himself on her stomach. Their eyes met, lips unable to stop themselves from sharing another kiss before Dean plopped down next to her. He reached for a tissue, cleaning her up with gentle touches, careful not to hurt her. 

“Thank you for rescuing me.” (Y/n)’s whispers forced Dean to open his arms, to pull her closer once again as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll always rescue you. Tomorrow we’ll take care of these crazy bitches, I promise.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Middlemen without enshittification

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me next in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Enshittification describes how platforms go bad, which is also how the internet goes bad, because the internet is made of platforms, which is weird, because platforms are intermediaries and we were promised that the internet would disintermediate the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

The internet did disintermediate a hell of a lot of intermediaries – that is, "middlemen" – but then it created a bunch more of these middlemen, who coalesced into a handful of gatekeepers, or as the EU calls them "VLOPs" (Very Large Online Platforms, the most EU acronym ever).

Which raises two questions: first, why did so many of us end up flocking to these intermediaries' sites, and how did those sites end up with so much power?

To answer the first question, I want you to consider one of my favorite authors: Crad Kilodney (RIP):

https://archive.org/details/thecradkilodneypapers

When I was growing up, Crad was a fixture on the streets of Toronto. All through the day and late into the evening, winter or summer, Crad would stand on the street with a sign around his neck ("Very famous Canadian author, buy my books, $2" or sometimes just "Margaret Atwood, buy my books, $2"). He wrote these deeply weird, often very funny short stories, which he edited, typeset, printed, bound and sold himself, one at a time, to people who approached him on the street.

I had a lot of conversations with Crad – as an aspiring writer, I was endlessly fascinated by him and his books. He was funny, acerbic – and sneaky. Crad wore a wire: he kept a hidden tape recorder rolling in his coat and he secretly recorded conversations with people like me, and then released a series of home-duplicated tapes of the weirdest and funniest ones:

https://archive.org/details/on-the-street-crad-kilodney-vol-1

I love Crad. He deserves more recognition. There's an on-again/off-again documentary about his life and work that I hope gets made some day:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#putrid-scum

But – and this is the crucial part – there are writers out there I want to hear from who couldn't do what Crad did. Maybe they can write books, but not edit them. Or edit them, but not typeset them. Or typeset, but not print. Or print, but not spend the rest of their lives standing on a street-corner with a "PUTRID SCUM" sign around their neck.

Which is fine. That's why we have intermediaries. I like booksellers (I was one!). I like publishers. I like distributors. I like their salesforce, who go forth and convince the booksellers of the world to stock books like mine. I have ten million things I want to do before I die, and I'm already 52, and being a sales-rep for a publisher isn't on my bucket list. I am so thankful that someone else wants to do this for me.

That's why we have intermediaries, and why disintermediation always leads to some degree of re-intermediation. There's a lot of explicit and implicit knowledge and specialized skill required to connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, and other sides of two-sided markets. Some producers can do some of this stuff for themselves, and a very few – like Crad – can do it all, but most of us need some help, somewhere along the way. In the excellent 2022 book Direct, Kathryn Judge lays out a clear case for all the good that middlemen can do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

So why were we all so anxious for disintermediation back in the late 1990s? Here's a hint: it wasn't because we hated intermediaries – it was because we hated powerful intermediaries.

The point of an intermediary is to serve as a conduit between producers and consumers, buyers and sellers, audiences and creators. When an intermediary gains power over the audience – say, by locking them inside a walled garden – and then uses that lock-in to screw producers and appropriate an ever larger share of the value going between them, that's when intermediaries become a problem.

The problem isn't that someone will handle ticketing for your gig. The problem is that Ticketmaster has locked down all the ticketing, and the venues, and the promotions, and it uses that power to gouge fans and rip off artists:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/20/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop/

The problem isn't that there's a well-made website that lets you shop for goods sold by many small merchants and producers. It's that Amazon has cornered this market, takes $0.51 out of every dollar you spend there, and clones and destroys any small merchant who succeeds on the platform:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can stream most of the music ever recorded. It's that Spotify colludes with the Big Three labels to rip off artists and sneaks crap you don't want to hear into your stream in order to collect payola:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

The problem isn't that there's a website where you can buy any audiobook you want. It's that Amazon's Audible locks every book to its platform forever and steals hundreds of millions of dollars from creators:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

The problem, in other words, isn't intermediation – it's power. The thing that distinguishes a useful intermediary from an enshittified bully is power. Intermediaries gain power when our governments stop enforcing competition law. This lets intermediaries buy each other up and corner markets. Once they've formed cozy cartels, they can capture their regulators and commit rampant labor, privacy and consumer violations with impunity. That capture also lets them harness governments to punish smaller players that want to free workers, creators, audiences and customers from walled gardens. It also hands them a whip-hand over their workers, so that any worker who refuses to aid in these nefarious plans can be easily fired:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

A world with intermediaries is a better world. As much as I love Crad Kilodney's books, I wouldn't want to live in a world where the only books on my shelves came from people prepared to stand on a street-corner wearing a "FOUL PUS FROM DEAD DOGS" sign.

The problem isn't intermediaries – it's powerful intermediaries. That's why the world's surging antitrust movement is so exciting: by reinstating competition law, we can keep intermediaries small and comparatively weak, so that creators and audiences, drivers and riders, sellers and buyers, and other groups seeking to connect will not find themselves made subservient to middlemen.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

[chelseypprimrose]

Jilted Ex-Lover / Negan x Reader / fiancésdad!Negan

Warnings ⚠️: unprotected sex, elements of rough sex, use of petnames, oral (fem receiving) not proof read yet.

Summary: After your fiancé leaves you high and dry on your wedding day, his dad comforts you in a way you didn’t ever expect.

A/N: I got burnt out to fuck writing this lol, writers block was strong on this one, hope you enjoy it all the same though, thank u for all the love on my other stories 🤍🫶🏼

“How the fuck could he do this to me?” You exclaimed, stomping down the hallway of the old manor house, the rooms still decorated in the victorian inspired decor you’d picked out months ago. Making it back to your bridal suite, you threw the doors open, reaching under your dress to get your uncomfortable heels off your feet, throwing them into the corner without a care. Your bridesmaids followed behind you, a couple on their phones trying to get in contact with your fiancé, or should you say ex-fiancé. You’d noticed he’d been getting jittery the closer the date got, not caring when you’d come to him for his opinions on the food menu or the DJ set list, him just humming along, his eyes still glued to his phone. You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind, chalking it up to just be cold feet, something that was common but when the day eventually arrived, it would all be fine. How foolish that was, on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, the day you are meant to promise yourselves to one another, you’d been embarrassed in front of not only your friends and family, his as well. You kept replaying the moment over and over again in your head, the gasps of the wedding audience, hands going over their mouths in shock, the tears that entered your eyes and started to fall down your cheeks. He’d left you there at the alter, stuttering when it came to the all important question, running down the stairs, head held down as he rushed out of the door.

“So, what do you want to do Y/N? Everyone’s traveled here, everything is set downstairs.” One of the bridesmaids asked you, looking around at the others with a nervous look on her face, almost not wanting to ask you the question. You sighed, taking a hold of the crystal decanter that was on the dressing room table, using the ice tongs to place two cubes of ice in a matching whiskey glass, pouring a stiff drink. “You know what?” You laughed, taking the drink in one go. “Fuck him, there’s no chance I spent all this fucking money for everything to be cancelled. Tell everyone to head to the reception. We are continuing like this never happened.” Your bridesmaids started to text away on their phones, one looking up for a brief moment. “What about his family? Are they invited?” You looked towards her, a small smile on your face. “Of cause, I’m going to get some questions answered.”

You’d still changed into your reception dress, a long flowing silk white strapless number, you’d still had your first dance, just with your own father instead of your husband, a few fallen tears as you did, quickly wiped away. You’d had people coming up to you from both sides, what should have been congratulations became apologies and sympathies. You hadn’t heard from him since he ran away, the thought of somehow this being a dream now fully out of the picture. The beat of the cheesy classic wedding songs in the background, as you asked the bartender for another drink, passing your empty glass to them. Your nails tapped against the bar, looking around at everyone still enjoying themselves and dancing near the stage where the DJ was positioned. The bartender returned with your glass now full, a nod of appreciation as you took it.

“Drowning your sorrows, sweetheart? Can’t say I blame you.” You turned to look at where the voice came from, a small look of disapproval sat on your features. “Well, you have your own demon spawn to blame for that one, Mr Smith.” He let out a hearty chuckle, leaning on the bar top. You knew you shouldn’t be directing your anger at Negan, your fiancés father but you couldn’t help your feelings. You’d been racking your brain all day of how someone could think it was okay to completely abandon what was meant to be their life partner on the day of their wedding, knowing how embarrassing and disrespectful it was. “You really did a brilliant job of raising him, the fact he thinks that it’s morally better to absolutely embarrass me in front of everyone, he could have cancelled this before now, saved me the heartbreak.” You concluded, taking a sip of the wine from the glass. Negan looked at you with a guilty look on his face, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry doll, he never came to me with any of this, if I’d known he was going to do this, I would have shut that shit down, made sure he went about the right way to do it. That’s not the way I fucking raised him. It was a cowardly move.” You let out a sigh, you could tell from the way Negan was looking at you he was being completely truthful, you’d always got along, there would be no reason he wouldn’t have come to you with this, even if it meant going behind his sons back. “I know. Sorry, I just have a bit of resentment towards anyone associated to him at the moment, it isn’t your fault. Maybe just hit him in the face a couple times when you eventually find him.” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood for the moment before you cried again. He laughed at this, his arm leaving the bar to wrap around your waist in a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry doll, he’ll be getting an earful from me when I see him. I don’t like seeing your pretty face upset, especially not over some boy.” He pulled you close, his hand resting in place, you felt safe in Negan’s arms, a weird sensation coming over you, arousal? It was no secret that Negan was a good looking guy, anyone with a set of eyes could see how handsome he was, he had all the charm in the world to match as well. So suave, he held himself really well, almost a people person but wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. To be honest, there had always been some kind of silent attraction between the two of you, you’d noticed when his eyes had lingered on you for a little longer than was deemed socially appropriate, how he always seemed more relaxed in your company, when he’d bring you breakfast some mornings when he knew his son was away on business trips. He’d taken good care of you and welcomed you with open arms into the family, which caused the betrayal to sting more, you weren’t just losing a potential husband, you were losing a extended family relationship as well.

“Well if you would excuse me, I have to get back to people coming up to me and expressing their condolences, you’d think it was a funeral, not a wedding.” You slightly laughed, taking one last look in his eyes as you bid him farewell.

A couple hours later, after everyone had left, you found yourself in your suite, having taken your hair down from the intricate up do, having to weave out the small flowers that had been placed in the style and what felt like ten thousand bobby pins. Grabbing a quick shower, you’d put on a silk set with a short robe, what was meant to be your wedding night lingerie, another thing you’d spent a ton of money on that you didn’t want going to waste. You’d barely checked your phone through the night, looking at it now you hadn’t had any calls or texts from your estranged ex, concluding that was probably a good thing, not wanting to get upset thinking about it again. A loud knock at your door made you jump, throwing the soft duvet off your body as you made moves towards the door, a look of surprise at the person. “Hey doll, I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight, so…” Negan trailed off, raising the bottle of champagne and two flutes in his large hand. “Champagne? Aren’t you meant to drink that when you’re celebrating?” You questioned, cocking one hip to the side sarcastically with your eyebrow raised. “Well, depending on how you look at the situation, you could be celebrating the fact you don’t have to deal with a silly little boy anymore who can’t appreciate a good women in front of him?” You laughed, taking the bottle out of his hand, moving away from the door so he could enter the room. “Well, when you put it like that.” Negan shut the door behind you, taking a seat on the bed as he watched you pop open the bottle, pouring two glasses and handing him one. “To new beginnings?” You cheers with him, the glasses clinking together. “To new beginnings, doll. So what the plan from here? Weren’t you meant to be going on a honeymoon?” You huffed, you’d completely forgotten about your impending honeymoon, two weeks on your own sounded morbid. “I haven’t even thought about it, I forgot. Do you think it would be pathetic to go by myself? Maybe I can explain the situation and get refunded, I’ll just have to take the hit if not.” Negan smiled as he shook his head. “Nah, it’s not pathetic. Hell, you paid for the trip, you deserve the time away.” You nodded, taking a small sip of the champagne. “Yeah I guess, just don’t know how I feel about a solo trip, it will cause me to overthink everything and get upset.” You looked down at the ground, taking small steps until you were sat across from Negan on the bed.

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, am I really that insufferable that someone felt the need to run away from me? Is the idea of marrying me that bad?” You asked, the thoughts you’d tried to push down all day coming back to the surface, causing you to get emotional the more you fixated on it. “No doll, don’t think that shit. He royally screwed up on this one, there is absolutely no excuse to do what he did to someone, especially someone like you.” He moved to wrap his arms around you again, you leaning your head into his shoulder, your hand placed on his chest, you could feel his faint heartbeat on the surface. You sat for a short time, neither of you moving from the position you were in, savouring the moment. You looked up at Negan, those deep brown eyes of his almost staring into your soul. He glanced down at you as well, this unspeakable tension surrounding you both, he leant forward and began to kiss you, your eyes wide with shock. “Wha-what are you doing? Please don’t tell me this is some sort of pity kiss.” You asked, pulling slightly away from Negan as his hand began to the side of your face, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Of cause not, let me help you forget about that fucker. Doesn’t know a good women even though it’s staring him in the face. Let me make you feel good, doll.” You pulled him towards you, now capturing him in a feverish kiss, your hands exploring his neck, holding him tightly. “God please, help me forget.”

You moved to straddle Negan feeling him through the thin lingerie you had on as he met your kisses with just as much confidence as you. His tongue making quick work of turning your insides to jelly, moving to whip your robe off your body, making quick work of unclipping your bra as well. You took no notice of where the items of clothing landed, though you had a feeling you would regret that later. Your breasts now free, Negan took the liberty of exploring you, delighting in the arch of your back as he worked a nipple between his teeth. One hand was on your back, the other trying to work on getting your panties down. You stood for a moment, shedding the flimsy material off your body, Negan taking a moment to admire your curves, as you straddled him again; hot skin against hot skin. The sensation overwhelmed you, aching to have him inside you. “Fuck, you are perfect doll. So beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands now roaming your body.

He laid you down on the bed, your legs spreading to make room for him. He kissed your neck, gently nipping it as he worked his way down, more attention on your breasts. You knew what was coming but that still didn't prepare you for the sensation that came once his mouth made contact with your pussy. Your hips bucked, Negan using one hand to steady you. You still couldn’t believe you were actually going to have sex with your fiancés father, the ultimate fuck you. “Uh, Negan! Fuck, your mouth feels so good!”

He slowly slid two fingers inside of you, delighting in how slick and tight you were. He worked his fingers in and out, building a rhythm while still licking at your clit, causing you to moan out, your hands gripping the sheet below you. Before you knew it, you could feel the orgasm building inside of you, this is what you had been craving. Your fiancé could never give you pleasure like you were currently experiencing, never even going down on you really, always just chasing his own high. You’d missed the attention of a man who knew what he was doing and Negan definitely knew what he was doing. You thrust your hips forward, wanting to get as close to Negan as possible. He sped up his rhythm, his tongue continually flicking against you. You was close, so close. Your other hand was grabbing at his shoulder, leaving red marks underneath his shirt, where your nails dug in slightly.

“Fuck doll, you taste divine, so wet for me.” He whispered out, attaching his mouth back to you after. "I'm so close," you choked out, surprised at the fact that you could talk at all. "I'm going to come, Negan! Fuck! Don’t stop!” You moaned, gripping the sheet even tighter as your orgasm washed over your body. The muscles in your body contracted as you thrust toward him again. Negan continued to work your clit through your orgasm, sporadic moans leaving your lips as the wave of pleasure that rolled over you was unbelievable. You couldn't control anything, the waves subsided as you tried to relax your body. You loosened the grip that you had on his shoulder as he looked up at you, a confident grin on his face.

“You okay baby?” He asked softly, already knowing your answer. “Never better, I need you.” His hand caressed your breast again and down your body. He slid a finger into you, finding you to be wet and ready for him. Your hands explored his body again, practically ripping his suit down, exposing his shaft to you, it standing erect at attention. You ran your hand around the length of it, pleased to hear him moan as you did so. You pumped Negan’s cock a few more times, the pre cum oozing out of the top, causing your hand to become slick. You were nervous about Negan’s size, you’d never seen a more impressive cock. The way he stood over you as well, so manly and dominating. “You ready doll? You look so beautiful, so needy for me.” You could only nod, as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You moved to the top of the bed, propping yourself up on the soft pillows positioned there. You spread your legs a little wider as Negan slowly eased himself into you. “Oh fuck, you feel good.” You moaned as his entire length entered you.

He grabbed your legs, putting them up over his shoulders, allowing his cock to go even deeper. His hands gripped your thighs as he thrust himself into you at a faster, harder pace, almost taking your breath away. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, doll. Fits me perfectly.” he growled, reaching up and began tweaking one of your nipples. The sensation of Negan playing with your nipples, and fucking you relentlessly was almost more than you could take. You’d never been pleasured like this before, your other sexcapades being boring and too slow paced for you. You ran your nails down his still covered chest, the black blazer now disregarded by Negan, the crisp white shirt still on his frame, he looked so sexy in it. The thought that he just had to have you, he wasn’t even concerned about undressing made you feel so desirable. He leaned down and kissed you again, biting your lower lip in the process.

"Fuck me harder, please!” You moaned out, his lips now going to work on your neck, quickly finding your sensitive spots. Negan groaned appreciatively, speeding his rhythm up to meet your sordid demands. “Hang on, doll. I need to see that pretty ass of yours.” He slid himself out of your pussy and you whimpered at the loss of fullness you were feeling. He rolled you over, pulling your torso up so that your ass was in the air. He ran his hands over your ass, giving a slap to the supple skin, sliding himself back into your pussy. “Oh fuck yes, Negan!” You said happily, delighting in the new sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside you.

He rested his hands on your hips, thrusting hard into your pussy. He ran a hand over your ass again, raised it, and gave another hard slap. “Fuck! Do it again.” You begged, the dirty movements only increasing your pleasure. He raised his hand and smacked you again, his hand then running through your hair and pulling tightly on it, angling your head back. “Does that feel good, doll?” he asked. "Do you like that? Being such a good girl for me.” He praised you, his deep tone causing your body to light on fire. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah.” You managed to whimper out, the sound of your skin slapping against him as you met his thrusts. “You want me to do it again? Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you doll.” Negan whispered in your ear, continuing to thrust hard into your pussy. “Yes, please. Oh please!” You felt desperate, the pain mixed with pleasure was just too much for you to handle. “Beg for it, doll. Beg me.” he said, pulling your hair harder. “Oh fuck, please smack me again! Negan, you feel so fucking good inside me!” Negan kept slamming himself into you as he smacked your ass again.

"Fuck doll, I’m getting close, this pussy is heavenly.” he said a few minutes later, pumping your pussy hard. "Where’d you want me?”

"On my chest, all over me, please?” You requested, Negan thrusting faster as he chased his release. “You are a dirty fucking girl, you know that doll?” He pulled out of you, positioning yourself to the ground quickly as he leant just above you on his knees.

"Come on me baby, please! I need it.” you said, pushing your breasts up towards him with your inner arms, your hands grabbing his shaft, finishing him off. “Fuck yes, doll! You look amazing like that, so needy for my cum.” he choked out just before his climax hit him. Negan’s load came pulsating out, all over your chest, heavy breaths escaping both of you. You began to swipe his release on off your chest, sucking the salty taste off your fingers, his eyes locked on to the dirty sight in front of him, his face lighting up. He helped you up, back onto the bed, giving you another kiss as he did. “You want me to stay doll?” he asked.

You debated internally for a few moments. You knew that he should probably go, the thought of someone catching you in bed with your ex fiancés father, would cause many questions that you wanted to avoid, but when he looked at you with those eyes of his, you caved. How could you kick out the man who had just shattered your world in the space of a hour? “You can stay, I want a repeat performance in the morning.” You chuckled, wrapping yourselves within the sheets of the bed. “Really doll, he’s a fucking fool. His loss, my fucking gain.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, leaving small kisses on your forehead.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Hiiii :) okay so this kinda deviates from your prompt list but doesn’t Yano?

Wandanat x r where r has been in a bad relationship and her period was always something that caused her to get in trouble, r would fear Wanda and nat seeing her on her period, but it’s now painfully obvious bc she’s leaked on her suit. One of them mention it and that caused r to have a panic attack and get so caught in her own mind she reacts instinctively to protect themselves but the girls are there to comfort and love their gf

~ a writer you follow 🕯️

Period Panic

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: After hiding her period from her girlfriends due to past relationships, what happens when you leak on your suit during a mission?

TW: mentions of past abuse, panic attacks, period / blood, canon typical violence, non sexual nudity, past trauma, flinching, crying

A/n I love this idea. I hope I did it justice. I am happy to explore any requests that aren’t on my prompts list as long as they follow my do’s and don’ts so I’m happy to write it. It was quite fun to write :) Also would you like to be 🕯anon? (So I can know when its you) Im very excited to get a request from a writer a follow (I only ever really follow my favourite writers so it means a lot)

Standing in your bathroom you quelled the anxiety rising in your chest. Sure, Wanda and Natasha had always been amazing. They were by far the best girlfriends you could ever ask for.

But that didn’t stop the fear you felt at the idea of them finding out. Past relationships had ingrained fears in you that were hard to shake. As a child your period was simply a fact of life. Something you would deal with and move on. However, after your last long-term relationship you began to fear it. Your partner had made snide remarks, insults and mean comments whenever you expressed anything to do with that time of the month.

At first you simply had brushed it off. However, as time went on, they had only seemed to become more aggressive in their actions. Eventually, by the time it ended you were afraid of that time of the month. The unbothered feelings you had towards your period were gone, replaced with a deep-rooted fear of inadequacy and disgust for yourself.

A knock broke you from your thoughts and you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Detka?” It was Natasha, most likely back from training and wanting a shower.

“Y-yes?” You cursed yourself for the waver in your voice, knowing as a trained spy she wouldn’t miss it.

“Are you ok my sweet?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, I'll be out in a minute.” You called slipping on that mask easily.

“Ok love.” Nat said and you sighed softly in relief. Maybe she hadn’t realised

Quickly you went to your hidden stash of period supplies. You didn’t want Wanda or Natasha to ever know when your period was so everything you needed was kept hidden. Pulling the pad from where it was tucked inside the centre of a spare toilet roll in a small cupboard you stuck it in your underwear as quietly as possible. Shoving the wrapper in your pocket to dispose of later you washed your hands and exited the bathroom. Making sure you had left no blood or evidence before leaving.

As you entered the bedroom you caught a glimpse of Wanda pulling off her shirt as Natasha smiled at you and took your place in the bathroom for a shower.

“How are you this morning my lovebug?” Wanda asked and you smiled.

“Im good. Are you ready for the mission?” You asked and Wanda sighed.

“I wish we could just stay here and cuddle.” She said and you nodded.

“Me too.”

“We better get changed into our suits the jet leaves soon.” Nat said leaving the bathroom in record time. She had a towel around her as she grabbed her suit and retreated back to the bathroom to change. Wanda nodded and grabbed her own suit, slipping it on in the corner of the bedroom. Once Nat left the bathroom you took her place and changed. Wanda shot Nat a confused look, normally you had to issues getting changed in the same room as them. Nat shrugged and decided to keep a close eye on you for the mission.

In the bathroom you looked at the pads wings that were visible on the outside of your undies with disgust. Shaking you head you pulled on your suit. It was rather tight but snug. The light grey colour was a risk, but you had no alternative. You simply prayed the pad would be enough and left the bathroom.

Wanda was sat on the bed watching Nat slip all her weapons into her suit before they stood and the three of you left to head to the jet. Tony, Steve and Bucky were waiting as the three of you got on board.

“Geez i almost thought i got stood up.” Tony said and shoved Nat toward the cockpit. “Do your thing Romanoff.” He grinned and Nat glared at him.

“Stark.” She said warningly. Tony put his hands up in a surrender and she suppressed a smirk. Although she was quite soft behind closed doors with you and Wanda, she had a reputation to uphold in the compound. Nat settled herself in the pilot seat and the jet rumbled to life.

The mission itself was rather simple. Tony and Steve had cleared the west wing of the base while Natasha, Wanda and you had done the east. After taking out a handful of agents and grabbing the hard drive of intel that shield needed, Nat holstered her gun and her and Wanda walked behind you as you made you way back to the jet. Wanda’s eyes fell on your ass as you walked. Widening slightly at the red patch between your legs.

You had never been one to make a big deal of your period with them, but Wanda didn’t think you appreciate it if the boys saw. Wanda nudged Natasha whose eyes were scanning the trees as you walked to the jet which was in the woods near the base. Natasha followed Wanda’s eyes and nodded in agreement. The two girls stopped their movement and as you realised, they were no longer following you, you turned around swiftly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in high alert now scanning the trees for a threat.

“Honey.” Nat said with a soft tone.

“Sweetheart here take this my love.” Wanda said handing you a jacket.

“W-why?” You asked starting to worry.

“Love your periods escaping a little.” Wanda said trying to make you laugh so you didn’t feel bad. At the look you had on your face Wanda began to get worried.

Your eyes widened and your breathing picked up. Wandas hand still held out the jacket, but you made no move to reach for it. Nat studied you every move as your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. Fingers trembling slightly. Your breathing was now short as ragged as you struggled to get the air into your lungs. Your chest felt tight, and your heart began to race in your ears. Tears dripped down your cheeks and for a moment the two girls froze, unsure of what was happening.

Before they could react, you began to apologise profusely. Seemingly afraid of what they would do. Nat carefully took a step towards you, but you flinched back before your legs gave out and you curled up on the floor. Nat soon became aware of how exposed you were and simply shoved down her feelings. Gently she picked you up in her arms, unbothered as her suit was black and didn’t show blood stains. Wanda went ahead on high alert to protect the both of you. You sobbed and buried your face in Nat’s chest.

“It's ok love, we aren’t mad.” Nat said rubbing her hand up and down your back. She whispered words of reassurance and began to exaggerate her breathing as she realised how pale you were begging to look.

“Breathe with me my love. In deep for four. One…two…three… four. And hold…. Two … three … four. And out… two … three…four. You're doing so good for me lovebug.” She said coaching you through the panic attack. Once back on the jet Nat took you to one of the small rooms and sat on the floor with you still tucked into her.

Wanda sat next to Nat and rubbed your back as you continued to cry into Natasha’s neck. The two girls began to get a hold on your breathing. Still talking softly and reassuring you. Wanda had told Steve to pilot the jet as he was just as qualified as Natasha just not as smooth. Soon you found your head in Nat’s lap curled into her stomach as your legs rested in Wanda’s lap. Wanda drew shapes on your thigh as your breathing went back to normal. You pulled a hand to your eyes and began scrubbing at it harshly to get rid of the tears. Nat took your wrist in her hand and pulled it away from your face gently.

“None of that now love.” She said and pressed kisses to your knuckles. You felt a warm feeling in your chest at how they cared for you. Tentatively you asked.

“You're not m-mad?” You said and Nat frowned.

“Never my sweet.” Wanda said and Nat looked at you.

“Sweetheart we will never, ever be mad at you for the things your body does. We love you just the way you are. Period or no period.” Nat said pressing a kiss to your forehead. You buried your face in her stomach again.

“Thank you.” You mumbled into her skin and Wanda chuckled.

“Anytime sweetness.” She cooed.

MASTERLIST

[paintingpuff]

Netflix ATLA and the Air Nomad Genocide

I've started watching NATLA, and though I'm not really enjoying it, I've found it really interesting to compare its writing decisions to the show as a way to break both down and see how their parts tick. Since NATLA is trying to be more faithful than some other adaptations, the changes it does make stand out more and reveal the mechanics of the storytelling.

While I overall think a lot of NATLA's changes--even the minute ones--made the story execution weaker, the more complicated and interesting change of theirs is the intro, showing the day the Fire Nation ambushed the Air Nomads.

Pacing Criticisms

Cards on the table, I think that putting this sequence at the very beginning was a mistake. Watching Aang's emergence from the iceberg in NATLA made me realize how much the original cartoon imbues its beginning with mystery that makes for a much more active viewing experience. Aang doesn't know much about the present, Katara and Sokka don't know much about Aang's origins, and in their back and forth of information, we the audience organically learn both. Watching Katara and Aang piece together how long he's been frozen in ice was more satisfying and natural than Grangran deducing everything immediately when Aang showed up.

But Sherlock Grangran was kind of the only decision the writers could do, because if they tried the build up the cartoon did, it would just feel tedious to the audience, because we already know everything from the start. They kind of wrote themselves into a corner there.

But let's ignore that problem. We could imagine in another draft that this sequence of the Fire Nation attack shows up as a flashback, kind of like what happened in ATLA with The Storm.

That then begs the question: How does this sequence’s inclusion change the audience's experience, and is it for better or worse?

Facing Vs. Hiding the Horrors

Both series portray very dark and horrific situations, but the way they try to evoke horror from the audience are very different approaches, and for me raises a question I've been asking myself for a while: When wanting to display discomforting violence, is it more effective to imply/hide it, or to show it in detail? Somewhere in between?

(I specify discomforting violence, as opposed to violence meant to be catharsis or spectacle.)

There are arguments for both. Explicit violence can create a visceral, physical reaction to an audience member (especially the squeamish ones), though for some it can come across as gratuitous and even exploitative.

Whereas hiding the violence can horrify the audience by leaving a lot to the imagination (insert that quote about fear of the unknown from Hack Penmanship Lovecraft), or give the sense that the events are so awful that even the camera has to look away. Some also say this gives the characters more dignity, though others think this softens the emotional reaction almost as a form of self censoring (there's a reason kid's media often tries to show horrific stuff off screen, such as the original ATLA).

Ultimately I've come to the conclusion that the former approach works for some stories, whereas the latter works better for others, all of it based on a ton of factors.

So I don't think NATLA's choice to delve into more detail about the Air Nomad genocide is an illogical decision. I wasn't sure about it when I heard it, but I thought that maybe I'm just attached to ATLA's off screen approach, so I kept myself open.

And dialogue issues aside, I don't think the scene is that poorly done. But it did ultimately solidify for me that ATLA's narrative is stronger without an explicit depiction of the Air Nomad genocide.

The Grief of Never Knowing

The image of Gyatso’s skeleton from ATLA has haunted me ever since I saw it as a kid. It was an emotional gut punch in a very well done episode, but this particular screenshot has stuck with me, and that is because of the Fire Nation soldiers. A lot of people have pointed this out, but there are a lot of bodies here, and it implies that Gyatso managed to not only kill these soldiers, but do it when they were strengthened by the comet. That image is very discomforting--Gyatso is always seen from Aang’s perspective, and thus we only see him as the gentle old mentor and friend, one who cheats at games and throws pies he meticulously baked.

It also puts into Aang’s position and the grief he has to face. From his perspective, he was gone only a few days as 100 years passed. He never gets to see the interim, and thus neither do the audience. He is left with the same implications as we are, and has to face the realities of grieving the fact that sometimes you’re not there when they leave.

An excellent point from @endless-nightshift here is how one of ATLA’s core themes is coping with the aftermaths of atrocities and war, analyzing their long-lasting affects rather than just the initial shock of violence--something I had never consciously realized but once said out loud makes a lot click into place for me. There is a reason the show starts a full century into the war rather than just a few years. 

François Truffaut once said that “there is no such thing as an anti-war film,” because the medium of film is inherently better at elevating and glorifying what it shows rather than deriding or deconstructing it. While I don’t think it’s impossible to do the latter, the extended action sequence that is the intro to NATLA causes that sentiment to echo in my mind as I watch, rather than invest me into the story. 

The implied atrocities of ATLA draws me in to empathize with the wounded characters and world, whereas the explicit action of NATLA pushes me away. 

…and that’s where I was planning to end this analysis, but there is one thing NATLA’s intro adds into the canon that I think is actually genius--if they take advantage of it in the future. 

The Air Nomads are Joy

When I first saw the addition of the Comet Festival, I saw it as a purely mechanical decision to have all the Air Nomads in one place for the attack, as well as to make the act even more scummy. However, the more I thought about it the more I realized how it could tie into one of my favorite themes of ATLA: the Air Nomads (and especially Aang) as the joy and hope of the world. 

(I saw an old tumblr post about this theme that inspired this section. I wish I could link it but I can’t find it anymore, I’m very sorry and if anyone can help me find it tysm)

There is a recurring motif of associating the Air Nomads with humor and fun. Iroh mentions their good humor; Gyatso baking pies just to prank the other masters with it; Roku’s first airbending flashback being him using it to mess with his friend. This is a core tenet to Aang’s character as well. The first line he has in the show is inviting Katara to go penguin sledding with him. Half the stops he makes in Season 1 is purely to have fun. He excites Kyoshi island with an airbending party trick. The humor in ATLA’s tone isn’t just there because it’s targeted towards kids, but is the bedrock of the series’ themes. 

(On a personal note, the humor is also what got me and my family into the show. We saw the intro sequence with Aang crashing into the statue and it made my mom laugh so hard that we watched the whole series, and years later we’ve rewatched it dozens of times and own all the DVDs)

Joy and fun and hope were the first things to die when the Fire Nation attacked, and part of Aang’s job is returning that to a world that has been scarred by decades of war. You may already be seeing where I’m going in regards to the Comet Festival. 

A core conflict in the cartoon finale is Aang wanting to keep to the principles of the Air Nomads while still finding a way to stop the war (side note: I think the resolution and Aang’s decision to spare Ozai was a good one, I just think the execution was a little janky). Beyond the surface level conflict of who wins in the battle between Aang and Ozai, there is the additional tension of who will win ideologically. The return of the Avatar State is an interesting development in this dynamic, having Aang suddenly physically winning the fight, but spiritually losing up until the last moment. In the end, it is a triumph where Aang manages to find a third option to win both conflicts, despite them seeming diametrically opposed. It is about defeating Ozai and the Imperial Fire Nation by wholeheartedly rejecting their ideology of violence and might-makes-right. 

But now I see a really cool opportunity for NATLA with what they’ve established in the intro sequence: What if Aang reclaimed the symbol of Sozin’s Comet for his people? That day of the Fire Nation attack, centuries of the Comet Festival were wiped over in history, with people now naming that event as Sozin’s Comet and the beginning of the war. Wouldn’t it be poetic for Aang to mark the ending of the war by wiping away that stain done to his culture, taking it back from the Fire Nation in what ways he can? To turn a tool for genocide into an event of joy and fun once more. 

I’m reminded of moments from the cartoon like Suki commenting how beautiful the comet looks. It would just tie everything up beautifully, and I really really hope the NATLA writers--if Netflix does give them enough seasons to get there--take advantage of this.  

So, to sum up what I think of NATLA so far: I think a lot of its changes have made the story weaker, but I don’t want them to stop trying changes. If I wanted a 1:1 copy of the cartoon, I’d just watch ATLA--it’s also on Netflix, after all. With more work, I can see the writers making changes that accentuate and build on the beauty of the original. 

(Note: These are the thoughts I’ve accrued from just watching the first episode. I plan to watch more, but it does exhaust me at the moment. Still, I hope I can do more of these kinds of analyses, it’s a really fun writing exercise for me)

[mingisaddctn]

hiii 😋😋 i just wanted to say that you are my fav writer tbh and i love your writing style. YOURE SO AMAZINGGGGG

i wanted to request a yunho smut based off the song body party by ciara? maybe the reader showing him how much they love him or something 😭 i’ve been dying for smtg like thissss..

if you don’t take requests like this i understanddd buttt other than that ilysm and your posts make my day LMAO

omg thank you so so so much ;-; this is too sweet im dying, im so glad you like my writing style. also ive been having yunho brainrot lately so im gonna try a lil something here for you

even though he had the height to be a scary human pole, you couldn't see him in a way other than a giant baby. yunho had this thing about him, a feeling, a pheromone, something that brought you closer to his sweetest self, and made you want to nestle yourself in his scent, engulfed in his being.

oh, you loved him. and you loved him bad — that's why you were milking him dry with your mouth.

kneeling in between his muscular thighs, the ones where your fingernails dug themselves into, you lowered your head over and over on his cock, feeling every little vein on the tip of your tongue, saliva pooling around the corners of your lips and falling to your chin. your jaw almost fell asleep, but the way he laid, hands behind him into the sheets of your shared bed as his head was thrown back, and you could only stare at his adam's apple bobbing from the grunts that left his body with full force.

your pretty, sweet, whiny boy.

he was your whole world, and you were his, and the best way to let him know about that was to be on top of him, taking every last drop of cum like a hungry devil, in a greed of pure sin.

"please" he placed his palm on your cheek, cupping your face and guiding your mouth off of him, leaving a trail of saliva behind. his eyes were two chocolaty irises that stared at you with utter devotion. "I need to be inside you."

and his wish were your orders. you stood from where you were kneeling, with the help of his arms and lowered your panties, sitting on his damp boxers—with the mixture of precum and your drool—and lowered yourself on him, arms holding his neck so dearly, so scared of leaving a mark on his perfectness.

he moaned, mouth open against yours and eyes burning into your mind. no thoughts to be perceived, just the two of you enjoying the moment, feeling pleasure out of this world, fucked out and fucked dumb.

rolling your hips with the help of his big hands, you moaned loud, not minding anything other than the need to bear him all, to lead him to his glory. yunho grabbed your body, enveloping you into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he helped your moves by pounding upwards.

your motions were made out of pure desperation that turned into primal urges, connecting with the side of your mind that you could never access if it wasn't when you were fucking yourself on his cock, drooling with eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"I love you" you whimpered and babbled and sang into his ear. "I love you—I love you"

he kept on pounding, moans becoming groans and burning against his throat.

"I love you" he moaned back, his words slurred against your skin, but engraving themselves like a thick tattoo, so you wouldn't ever forget.

he was reaching his finishing point when his movements became sharper and you dove into the scent of his sweat mixed with the faint cologne, everything that made him smell like him, leaving the imprint of his wholeness in you, claiming you in every way he could.

his teeth nursed themselves into the skin of your neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but just the right amount to let any wandering eye see who you belonged to. with a deep groan, and the rumbling of his chest trembling against yours, you felt his thighs twitching, and he came into your walls, feeding them what they truly needed all this time.

the only way you could show how much you loved him, was if he allowed you by loving you even more. if it was ever possible at all.

[dontyouworrydaddy]

hi!! i stumbled across ur blog and i loved ur writing so i thought i’d drop a request ^_^

so…. 141 x famous! reader

like…. HEHHEHE

like im talking realllyyy famous

celebrity type

ESPECIALLY WITH SOMEONE LIKE SIMON… POLAR OPPOSITES

ofc there would be some problems but whenever they get on leave reader just immediately frees up her schedule for the time he’ll be back !!

concert? sorry…..

touring? oops…

YK? HEHEH :3

𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

Task Force 141 x gn! reader

YOU ARE A GENIUSSSSS!!!! OH MY GODDD I absolutely love this idea and I‘m soooo excited to write about it.

Thank you so much! I hope you love this one💘

♛ ♕ ♚ ♔ ♜ ♖ ♝ ♗ ♞ ♘ ♟ ♙

Simon Riley

Simon had always been the quiet and private person. Just a simple guy in the army who has a high position.

You, known simply as "Little Star" for the world, which you got the name from Simon, are a phenomenal actor and song writer, making millions out of acting in songs you produce.

It was a love that had surprised everyone, including themselves. Polar opposites in every sense, but they say opposites attract, and in your case, it couldn't be truer.

"Hey my little star." Simon murmured as he walked through the door of your shared apartment. He had just returned from a long, grueling mission.

You looked up from the colorful bouquet you were arranging, your face lighting up as you rushed into his arms. "Simon! You're back! I've been counting the minutes."

Simon's usually stern expression softened as he held you close. "I missed you too," he admitted quietly.

Months passed the last time you saw him and it wasn't always easy, of course. Simon's work often kept him away for long stretches, and the secrecy surrounding it meant that there were many moments he couldn't share with you. But whenever he had leave, you had a knack for freeing up your schedule, as if nothing else in the world was as important as those moments with him.

"Hey, y/n.." Simon would say, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love. "I can't believe you're here with me."

You'd smile and reply, "Of course, Simon. You're my priority when you're home."

It wasn't always smooth sailing. You were the extrovert, and Simon was the introvert. He preferred quiet nights in, while you loved going out with friends. But you learned to compromise, to find joy in the little things.

One evening, you sat on the couch with a pile of board games in front of you. "Come on, Ghosty, let's have some fun tonight."

Simon raised an eyebrow but couldn't resist your infectious enthusiasm. "Alright, little star. You're on."

The game night ended up being filled with laughter, playful arguments, and a hot make out sessions. But amidst the chaos, there was a connection that ran deeper than any mission or song/show.

Ad you both lie on the bed, out of breath, you notice Simon looking… distracted by something. "What's on your mind, Simon?"

He sighed, looking at you. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'm cut out for this. The darkness, the secrecy... it's a lonely path."

You sat down beside him and took his hand. "Simon, you're more than your job and past. You're a person with a heart, with emotions, and you have me. I'll be your light in the darkness."

Tears welled up in Simon's eyes, and he pulled you close. "I don't know what I'd do without you, You."

Love was the force that held you two together. It was in the simple moments like cooking dinner together, sharing stories about your day, and in the way Simon's eyes lit up when he saw you waiting for him.

Simon looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "You mean everything to me," he said. "I don't say it enough, but I love you more than words can express."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you replied, "I love you too, Simon, more than anything in this world."

John MacTavish

The first time you met, it was in a bar on the outskirts of a small town. John had just returned from a covert mission, weary and battle-scarred. You were seated at the corner of the bar, reading a book and sipping a glass of wine. John couldn't help but be drawn to you, the serenity in your eyes a stark contrast to the chaos he had witnessed.

"Can I join you?" he asked, his voice gruff from days in the field.

You looked up from your book and gave him a soft smile. "Of course, you can. You seem like you could use some company."

That night marked the beginning of a connection that would change both your lives. You and John spent hours talking, discovering that you had little in common on the surface, but something profound connected you deep within. He regaled you with stories of his missions, and you listened with unwavering attention. You spoke of your passions and dreams, and he hung onto every word.

Despite the challenges of John's career, you made it work. Your relationship was a blend of late-night phone calls, handwritten letters, and stolen moments whenever he was on leave… and some moments with you and him in his car, somewhere quiet. There were also times when it seemed impossible, the worlds you inhabited so far apart, but every time he was home, you dropped everything just to be with him.

One evening, as the two of you sat on a quiet beach, watching the sun dip below the horizon, John took your hand in his and said, "I can't believe you make time for me every single time I come home. It means the world to me."

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. "You're worth it, John. You make my life feel complete, even in the midst of chaos.. where I‘m stressed with my open life."

Your relationship was a rollercoaster of emotions. There were nights of tears and longing, but there were also days of pure happiness. When John was deployed, your world revolved around waiting for his safe return and it was also the time you weren’t really home because of you tourings. And when he was back, you created moments that felt like a lifetime's worth of love in every stolen kiss and embrace.

One night you whispered to your boyfriend, "John, I never thought I'd find someone who understands me so completely. This is why my upcoming Album is about you."

John held you close, his voice full of love, "You, my love. I can't imagine facing the world without you by my side. I‘ll make sure to listen to it even if I‘m in the middle of a battlefield "

You both laughed as you laid in each other's arms, you both found love and solace amidst the chaos of your worlds.

John Price

In a chaotic city of England, you and John Price were a match that shouldn't have worked, yet somehow, you complemented each other perfectly. Your life, filled with the fame and glamour of the city, was a whirlwind of events and you touring through the UK.

Despite your wildly different lives, your love was undeniable. John would often tease you, saying, "I still can't believe you make time for a rough old captain like me." And every time, you'd respond with a smile, "You're worth every second, John."

In the evening, you stood on the balcony of your penthouse apartment, gazing at the city lights. John wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a tender kiss to your neck. "I can't believe you've cleared your schedule for my leave again."

You turned to face him, placing your hands on his chest. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be, babe."

He smiled, his blue eyes filled with warmth. "You know, I never thought I'd find someone like you."

"You're my everything, John," you confessed, your fingers tracing his stubbled jaw. "I love you."

His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, and for a moment, the world around you disappeared. In the midst of this whirlwind romance, love was the constant that held you both together.

Over the years, you faced your fair share of challenges. John's demanding career and your busy social life often pulled you in different directions, but whenever he was on leave, your schedules aligned.

As you cuddled on the couch, John traced a finger along your cheek. "You're everything I've ever wanted," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you replied, "And you're my rock, John."

Kyle Garrick

It was one of those rare moments when you both had some time off. Kyle, exhausted from his rigorous military duties, looked forward to spending his leave with you. You, on the other hand, were in the middle of an art project, but you knew just how much he needed this break. So, you cleared your schedule with a quick text that read, "I'm all yours when you're back, love."

As you waited for him, your mind wandered back to the first time you met. It had been at an art gallery where your work was being showcased. Kyle had stood there, captivated by the vibrant colors and abstract forms on the canvases. He approached you, and your worlds collided in a beautiful mess of colors and light. You'd never met anyone like him, and he'd never met anyone quite like you.

Now, as you prepared for his return, you couldn't help but smile at the memories that flooded your mind. The first time he'd attempted to sing with you, ending up with cringing as he heard himself singing over your instrumentals and how you'd laughed until your sides ached. He, in turn, had shown you the discipline and honor that came with his job, and you admired him for it.

Finally, the day came when Kyle returned home. The excitement in your heart was palpable as you rushed to the airport to greet him. When you saw him walking towards you in his uniform, it was like something out of a movie. You rushed into his arms, your emotions bubbling over.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice filled with love.

Kyle held you close, his strong arms wrapping around you. "I missed you more, you have no idea."

The drive back home was filled with laughter and stories of what you both had been up to. Kyle had a knack for making even the most mundane military anecdotes sound fascinating. You, in turn, shared the progress on your latest album, and he glanced at your creativity.

Once you were home, you cooked his favorite meal, and you both sat down to eat. As you sipped wine and shared stories, the hours slipped away. The love and connection you both felt were undeniable.

Later, you found yourselves snuggled on the couch, watching a movie. Kyle's fingers traced lazy circles on your hand as he said, "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. You make everything look so normal, even in the midst of chaos."

You smiled and nestled closer, your head resting on his shoulder. "And you bring a sense of order and purpose into my world. Together, we make the perfect blend of chaos and discipline."

As the night wore on, you realized that this was where you both belonged – in each other's arms.

[cosette141]

Write and Create for Yourself First | thoughts on fanfiction, art and external validation

When it comes to fanfiction, or any creation for that matter, so many people judge their own fics, art and talent by the amount of interaction with it.

I only know because I recently used to be one of them.

For people who seek external validation, if they have a story that has a thousand kudos or notes, they consider it worthy.

But if it has only 2, or god forbid none, then they feel like it wasn’t good or they “wasted their time” writing it. But that’s just not true, and it’s such a hurtful way of thinking about yourself and your own work. It’s only human to feel drawn towards external validation, but it’s your choice whether or not to chase it.

I implore you to think about it a different way, and hopefully make you feel a little better if you are the kind of person who thinks this way. Because in most cases, kudos, likes, comments, interaction—it’s a reflection of exposure, your current following, the luck of an algorithm, the traffic to that specific corner of the internet, or just how niche of a genre you’re creating in.

Not talent.

Think about this: imagine someone you idolize, respect or even envy the talent and success of. It could be a famous musician, author, a fellow fic writer—anyone who is successful and talented.

Now ask yourself: if no one in the world, not one single soul, ever saw any creation this person ever made…

Would it make that person any less talented?

If that famous musician never shared their music with anyone, are they no longer talented? Are they any less worthy of feeling confident in themselves and their work? Should they feel any less about themselves because they don’t have anyone validating their talent and ability?

If your favorite book writer kept their stories to themselves and never shared them, are they any less brilliant?

No.

But society makes it seem like it.

Think about your favorite books or movies or fanfics—(not your own, but someone else’s work that you love)—that don’t have a lot of kudos or likes or engagement. You love this story/creation. It touched you and you can see how incredible it is. Does it matter that the rest of the world doesn’t? Does it make you love it any less? Do you look at the kudos count and then say “Oh, wait, now it isn’t good anymore.” How many times are you commenting on something saying “I can’t believe this doesn’t have more comments/likes/etc!”

Do you realize how many people say that about the fics you’ve written that have little engagement? Even if they don’t tell you, there are people who are thinking it. There are countless posts and comments on tumblr from people who admit they don't comment because they simply are shy or don't know what to say.

External validation is a dangerous hole to fall into. Because the more you reach for it, the more you rely on it, the deeper you fall.

The easiest way to avoid falling into that hole is to look at your creation the moment you’ve created it, and capture the feeling you have right then and there. What does it make you feel? Did it help you cope? Did it make you smile or laugh? Did it make you cry and ease some of your emotional weight? Did you just feel that you created an incredible thing, and that you love it so much?

Someone liking it or not liking it doesn’t change what you feel in that moment.

Sometimes, you just have to wait for your time. Maybe your creation needs a few years and then it’ll get noticed and you’ll be rolling in success.

Does that mean you’re supposed to feel sad and invalidated until that happens?

If you currently have a creation that’s seen some external validation already, what would you tell your past-self who just posted it, and is waiting for engagement, thinking it isn’t good enough until they get some?

Think of all the time you spent sad, waiting for everyone else to change your mind. Think about how much power you’re giving them! Imagine that person whose underappreciated fic you love. If they were sad about it, what would you tell them?

Because sometimes, there are just things that won’t get exposure. There are just tv shows that won’t get picked up or movie deals that fall through and never get made, books that never get published and fics that never get read.

And if that is devastating to you, I ask you why you’re writing them in the first place.

Of course we all want to share our creations and get comments and positive reviews. And they are wonderful and fulfilling and inspiring and motivating! But if they are the only reason you are creating, if you always feel you wasted your time on a story that receives little interaction, you will feel empty so much of the time. You will always be wanting more, because you are focused on the quantity of them. When you are in this mindset, the moment after you finish reading the most heartfelt review you’ve ever gotten... you’re already waiting to get the next one.

But instead, if you create for yourself, if you sit in that moment of creation and you feel incredible about it, just between you and yourself… and you remember that feeling and that fact even after posting it publicly, everything else is just extra. It’s just the cherry on top. If you wrote that story because you needed to get something off your chest and you did, it doesn’t matter what someone else thinks of it.

If you felt incredible when creating art, then that art is incredible.

Hopefully, you are sharing your work with people, rather than writing it for them. Or, more accurately, for their positive feedback and compliments. Comments are sweeter when they aren’t viewed as payment to you or validation, and are instead like a gift to you.

You are always happy with your work if you view it this way.

You are sometimes happy with your work, depending on the actions of other people, if you rely on external validation.

Obviously you can do whatever you want! It’s your life and it’s your creations. But I can at least tell you that you will be a lot happier if you create for yourself first and take everything else as a wonderful surprise addition.

Because as someone who has climbed back out of that external validation hole and saw the sun for the first time in a long time, I can at least tell you that it has been so much happier for me.

.

I wrote an addition to this post to answer this question: How do you write for yourself first when you are making writing a professional career? That post is here!

[nekrotiize]

Lol it looks like a particular clown is shitting the bed over in the Blue Robots Corner so I’m gonna be petty and say as both a writer (I wrote Rotten, later wrote SAM, assistant writer on Bert) and the writing team’s manager it was so fucking funny and baffling when she kept throwing shitfits at me and other actual writers for saying that Dee and Pedro were nonbinary even though they were referred to as such in universe and had they/them pronouns in bio. So don’t forget she’s transphobic.

It’s really funny how she keeps talking about how “elitists” are ruining the space when those “elitists” are just kids and queer people trying to keep themselves and the community safe.

My damning piece to say on the matter is that, no, “elitists” did not ruin Chipspeech. It was her, and people like her. She was a big reason the writers crashed and burned and the storyline stopped. She (and some other bad actors) made the community so fucking toxic and unbearable that we just couldn’t take it anymore and had to bail to preserve our mental health. Yeah, the community was a panopticon full of terminally online twitterites that would rather blast false pedophile allegations at teenagers than have an honest to god normal human conversation, and that for sure did not fucking help, but she was a MAJOR contributing factor to the group’s overall low health and paranoia. Every moment was spent on guard because we were waiting for this tool to make her next move and try our best to rectify it without causing further tantrums.

Don’t let her crawl out of this. I don’t know what she’s done since I left, but from what I’ve seen, she’s just gotten worse. Keep your anger focused and protect each other. Don’t let your peers get hit by shrapnel in the blast.

[starkjoy]

it’s insane how disappointed i am with this season… like i don’t even know how to deal w this lmao. i just feel like i’m being gaslit into believing all the stuff i previously thought about tomshiv’s dynamic and even tomgreg’s (in terms of the nero/sporus subtext) isn’t true. it’s a weird decision on the writers’ parts.

the whiplash is so odd to me that i can’t help but wonder if they’re intentionally misleading us for some late-in-the-game twist. that’s probably delusion though—simplest explanation is that they changed their mind or it’s shitty writing. seems to be a trend with hbo final seasons. let’s see how it all ends before we make any final decisions, though.

unlike failed internet darling mlm ships of the past, tomgreg isn’t a case of fandom creating a narrative and setting themselves up for disappointment—the writers intentionally implanted homoeroticism into their plotline. the actors knowingly played around with it. jesse literally called them homoerotic a few weeks ago. it’s really sad to think succession may fall prey to every other queerbait-adjacent (adjacent for now since the season isn’t over) curse, leaning into the queer undertones until they’ve written themselves into a gay corner with the internet convinced something is gonna happen, only to backtrack and pretend the vibes were never there at all. it’s too early to say if that’s the case here, but it certainly feels that way at the moment. i mean, what else are we supposed to think when the writers go from nero and sporus gay marriage as the through line of season 3, to disgusting brothers hetero sex tour comedic relief background noise with tomshiv redemption front end center? am I supposed to be enjoying this?

all that being said, on a positive note im glad we’ve seen how much closer tom and greg have gotten as partners, and that they’re scheming together and on the same page. i’m glad they’ve had at least one interaction each episode. i’m glad greg seems much more into tom than previous seasons, quelling any unrequited friendship accusations. i’m glad we got insane homoerotic undertones in episode 1, even if they’ve dropped off since then. but where we’re sadly lacking is depth—what was once the hallmark of tomgreg’s deeper connection in contrast to tomshiv’s emotional constipation. now greg makes sexual quips while tom rolls his eyes…end scene. and again. it was funny and cute at first, but now it’s getting boring. don’t they deserve a more interesting arc in the final season after years of build up? why are we subject to tomshiv rehashing the same shit we’ve seen for 3 seasons instead?

also, one of the most compelling arcs of season 3 was tom’s vengeance, especially because we saw it play out from his perspective. outside of his plane convo with greg, tom’s pov has all but been erased. even the tomshiv moments are from the lens of shiv’s experience. and as much as we may sympathize with shiv’s heartbreak over his betrayal and her dad’s death, it feels almost wrong that the show is trying to make me feel bad for her? we saw how awful she was to tom for three seasons, we saw from tom’s perspective how much she hurt him. i don’t feel bad for shiv on the tom front at all, the fact that she kept his baby feels wildly out of character, and frankly it’s a little insulting the amount of time the final season is spending trying to convince the audience otherwise.

hey, maybe my feelings will change in a few days. maybe the final episodes will change all of our minds. i’ll always have some hope for tomgreg, but right now it’s not looking promising given the treatment they’ve received so far. anyone with any positivity to share hit me up because I could use it!!

[anime-grimmy]

Guess who got their ass up and actually wrote a fanfic. No, Im not a writer, this is a stream of conciousness which I cannot promise doesn't have obvious flaws, but I wanted to write one of my prompts from here. (it's the "Vash has soft hair" one)

Based in the '98 anime, Vashmeryl-centric.

______

As triste and unforgiving the land of planet Gunsmoke was, the festive atmosphere in the many saloons showed the bright sides of the hard lives of its populace. Meryl and Milly found themselves in one of the most joyful saloons they have been in a while.

The town they were in was barely on the map, just a small cluster of buildings that held maybe a few dozen residents. But as Meryl had gathered from fleeting conversations, despite all odds the small settlement was experiencing a small economic boom. She could have guessed as much, considering all the construction sites they’ve passed just at the outskirts of the town, or the fact the number of thomas in the stables and the cars blocking half the streets seemed out of the ordinary for such a small residency.

So it was no surprise how lively the people were. The saloon was basically glowing, the small lamplights reflecting off the many risen pints of beer. The atmosphere was so joyful with all the shouting, laughing and singing.

Meryl could not care for any of it.

Milly and her were cramped at a small table in the corner of the room, Meryl slumped back in her chair, hands idly turning her whiskey glass in circles without taking a sip. She was just so, so tired, the exhaustion weighing heavy in her bones.

Their few days long travel through the desert felt like it had taken weeks. From encountering sandstorms and bandits, to one of their thomas running off, everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong. When Milly and her had arrived at the inn and finally taken a much deserved shower, Meryl had been ready to flop into bed and not open her eyes for at least 11 hours.

To her dismay, the warm water had seemingly energized Milly to the point where she acted like they hadn’t just spent days full of sandy torture. Meryl really had wanted to decline, maybe even let Milly go by herself, but she just knew that the nagging feeling she’d get wouldn’t let her get a wink of sleep.

So, 30 minutes later found them in the brightest saloon for iles, Milly already downing her third drink while Meryl just stared off into space.

It really wasn’t too bad, actually. Milly was having a blast and Meryl was too tired to care for even the rowdier patrons. She just kept on watching the people with mild interest.

Maybe then it was her exhaustion that didn’t make her instantly panic when a very familiar broomhead made his way towards their table. Milly immediately waved Vash over when she spotted him, patting the stool next to her in invitation. Vash was all grins and drunken blush, probably having a big deal to do with the busty brunette slung under one of his arms.

Usually by now, Meryl would be filled with dread, disgust and a lot of other harmful words, but she found her mind was a bit too zoned to get riled up. Instead, she was honestly surprised Vash had managed to land such a woman, knowing how terrible he was at flirting.

It didn’t take too long for her to figure out how though.

The way the brunette was totally playing into his schtick, clanking drinks with him and even complimenting him, yet also keeping him at a physical distance, screamed gold digger to Meryl. She opted not to comment, it was weirdly enjoyable watching Vash dig his own grave.

A little flirty whispering here, some more coins clanking on the table there and a well-manicured hand brushing through the straw hair of his with barely disguised disdain over the woman’s face, Meryl was quite enjoying the show.

Ah, but then Vash got greedy, or too drunk to understand his companion’s signals.

His hand kept sliding too close to areas the brunette didn’t see fit, and after his third attempt, there was palm on his face and a second later, the seat next to him was vacant.

Meryl pulled her glass to her mouth, if only the hide the smile on her lips. The absolutely shocked and longing look he threw after the brunette was so sad that it was hilarious.

Milly, in comparison, didn’t have Meryl’s filter, especially not four pints in. Milly’s laughter was both sweet and boisterous which made Vash turn his hurt gaze onto her. With a loud whine he slid onto the tabletop, crying dramatic tears as usual. Milly slapped his back in comfort (a bit too hard if Vash’ wince was anything to go by) and shouted for another round of drinks.

Half a glass in and the whole escapade seemed to have been forgotten.

With her immediate show now over, Meryl let her eyes slide back over the crowd. Milly, despite being way too deep into her glass, seemingly had Vash under control. As long as the two of them just kept drinking together they’d stay out of trouble, probably, hopefully.

Meryl sighed. She was honestly too exhausted to care much.

The moments ticked by without anything really catching Meryl’s attention. She tuned into some conversations she could overhear or watched people lose at poker, but most patrons seemed to just drink and enjoy each other’s company. With nothing interesting to focus on, Meryl felt her eyelids grow heavy. She really didn’t want to fall asleep in the saloon, not when Milly was too drunk to find her way back to the inn, but the shouts and laughs soon turned into a low buzz in Meryl’s mind.

She was sure she was about to lose her fight against sleep when something blonde popped into her vision.

Meryl jerked back slightly, quickly blinking the drowsiness from her eyes, and turned to look at Vash.

He was leaning forward in his chair, closer to her, staring at her with squinted eyes. Meryl rose her brow at his…accusing? No, maybe puzzled look? She couldn’t quite describe his expression, but he sure was concentrating hard on her.

They spent a few moments like this, Vash just staring intently and Meryl waiting for him to speak what was on his mind. His head cocked to the side and Meryl swore she could see his eyes adjusting. A second later, they flew wide open.

“Holy crap, insurance girl, were you here the whole time?!”

Meryl pinched the bridge of her nose. He couldn’t be serious.

Vash laughed loudly, his chair scraping on the floor as he scooted closer to her. Meryl couldn’t help but lean back a bit when his beer breath hit her nose.

“Wow, you were so quiet, I didn’t even notice you! Wait, is that a new technique so you can watch me from the shadows?!”

Oh boy, he was being so serious about this. This time Meryl was sure his squinted eyes were supposed to be accusatory. She shook her head with a sigh.

“No, Vash, I just really don’t have the nerves today to pity you for being a terrible flirt.”

Vash gasped in offense, his hand flying to cover his heart. Meryl only rolled her eyes.

“Excuse you, that girl was all over me.”

Meryl gave him a deadpan look.

“More like all over your wallet.”

Vash’ hand slid from his chest to his pocket, protectively cradling the bag inside as if Meryl was the one trying to steal it. He held her gaze for a moment, before he cleared his throat and rebutted with way less confidence.

“I might have tried to appeal to her with some of my funds, but I know that my good looks sparked her interest.”

Meryl scoffed. The way the brunette had tried to cuddle up to him with as little touching as possible spoke more of aversion than attraction, which, if Meryl was being honest, was kind of surprising. She may call Vash a lecherous creep sometimes, but he was relatively harmless and not to mention far more handsome than most drunken patrons. Not that she’d tell him that.

“Really now, Vash? You really think that girl was into you? She bolted the moment you tried to make a move on her.”

Meryl was pretty proud of herself how little contempt and judgement clouded her voice as she said this. Still, Vash dramatically recoiled.

“She was just intimidated by my handsome-ness!”

Meryl sighed.

“Yeah, sure.”

Vash gave her the stink eye before leaning in close. Meryl wasn’t entirely sure what he was going for, but any seriousness was off the table with the way his lips pulled into a childish pout.

“She said my eyes were pretty.”

“Aha.”

“She also said my smile was nice.”

“Oh, how original.”

“She ALSO said my hair was great.”

At that, Meryl laughed.

“Vash, that girl barely dared to touch your hair! Not to blame her, I wouldn’t want to stick my hand in a haystack either.”

Vash’ jaw actually dropped at that. Meryl was taken aback how the look on his face wasn’t his usual theatrical performance but looked actually offended. A disapproving noise came from Vash’ throat as he jabbed a finger at her.

“How dare you! My hair is perfectly fluffy and stylish to boot! I will not allow you to insult my soft locks!”

Wait, fluffy?

“Fluffy? You can’t be serious.”

Vash slid the palms of his hands along his hair and then went to frame his face with a hand under his chin. He gave her a dazzling smile.

“Why yes, my dear insurance girl, my wonderful hair is the smoothest silk known to man.”

Meryl’s brow twitched. There was no way. No way in heaven and hell was that broomhead of his anything but dried grass. She’s seen it in action, it never lost form, and even when drenched to the bone his hair managed to look somehow spikey.

“There’s no way.”

“Yes way.”

“I don’t believe you.”

With a huff, Meryl fell back against her chair, crossing her arms in the process. She glared up at Vash, who was only staring back with just as much stubbornness.

Ugh, why was she arguing with him. Her body was almost melting into the chair from how drained her muscles felt, and here she was spending energy bickering with this idiot. And by the way his eyes shone with a challenging glint, she knew their argument was going to go on for hours at this rate.

Even while mulling over how to easily diffuse the situation, Meryl herself didn’t drop her gaze, therefore keeping the tension between the two alight. Vash’ own eyes flitted about, seemingly also analysing the situation, when he suddenly bent forward.

Meryl jerked back at the sudden movement and watched him angle beneath her eyelevel and then turn his face downward.

“Try it.”

Meryl stared at him for a moment.

“Excuse me?”

“Touch my hair.”

Again, Meryl recoiled, thrown off kilter by the sudden demand.

“What, no!”

Vash turned his head to pout up at her.

“Hey, you said you don’t believe it! This is the easiest way to prove it!”

Meryl held his gaze, seeing the dangerous mix out stubbornness and determination written all over his face. She really did not want to touch him, but at the same time, she was just so over this argument.

So, with a defeated sigh, she gave him a small nod.

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it.”

A big grin broke out on Vash’ face before he bend downwards again, presenting her the crown of his head.

Meryl was still hesitant. Somehow, this felt way out of bounds of their relationship, not that she was even sure where the two of them stood on an intimacy basis. But getting a bit flustered being so close to him beat bickering with him for another hour or so.

Swallowing another sigh, Meryl slowly raised her hand to the top of Vash’s spikes and gently took a strand between her fingertips. She rubbed them together slowly to properly feel the texture of his hair, and felt her eyes widen.

There was no way.

Meryl brushed a few more strands between her fingers, still doubting what she was feeling.

The hair felt soft.

Too stunned to accept this fact just yet, Meryl turned her palm towards Vash, gingerly pressing the hair down atop his head. It gave way immediately, bending down with the pressure she put on it and bouncing back up straight once she removed her hand.

Meryl could not believe what she was seeing, could not believe what she was feeling. Of all the impossible things she’s seen Vash do, this somehow felt like the most implausible. It just seemed so out of the laws of physics. After all, she had seen how his hair behaves. Once it was spiked up, his hair never seemed to stray out of its shape. While moving or being caught in the wind, his strands always seemed to move as one form.

But this, this looked and felt like something that should not be happening. Meryl bunched a bit of his hair in a fist, again evaluating how it felt. It wasn’t exactly silk like, how Vash had claimed, it reminded her more of finer, more strand-like thomas down.

Meryl released his hair and pulled her hand back slightly. Eyes still glued to the blonde mess in front of her, Meryl could hear a small voice in the back of her head screaming at her not to do what she had in mind, but her curiosity was too strong to not overrule her logic.

So, tentatively, she let her fingers comb through his hair. She let them slide from atop his forehead into his hairline until all her fingers were submerged in a sea of blonde. Meryl cringed slightly as she could feel some sand and grit in between his strands, but she kept kneading through his locks, untangling some knots she came across.

Meryl hated to admit how fascinating this was. She had always assumed such a dry and rough texture from Vash’ gravity defying hair, and yet, her fingers glided through even smoother than through Milly’s hair after a fresh wash. This blew all of her expectations out of the water, so she couldn’t help but marvel at the experience.

Meryl was only dragged out of her little trance when Milly’s giggling caught her attention. She turned her head towards her colleague, raising a brow in question.

Milly was trying to hide her highly audible laughs with a hand to her mouth, but Meryl couldn’t judge her as the poor girl was swaying in her seat from her buzz. The tall girl was also struggling to get a sentence out between her uncontrollable giggles.

“Aww, Mr. Vash looks like a kitten getting pats!”

Milly burst out into more laughter at her own quip, but Meryl immediately froze as reality caught up to her. With a hammering heart, she looked down towards the man whose hair she’s been toying with for the last few minutes.

Vash, for his part, looked to be in absolute bliss. There was a big, content smile on his face, body laying on the table with his arms serving as a pillow for his head. He had his eyes closed and was humming a sigh every few moments, bright cheeks getting even rosier as his smile grew.

Meryl only noticed now her hand was still scratching at the back of his head.

Flustered, Meryl jerked back her hand, instead opting to press it against her pounding heart. Vash wailed in protest, looking as if he had been ripped out of a cozy dream. Milly only laughed harder.

Oh god, what had she been doing? Was she really that zoned out that she was giving Vash, the absolutely insufferable Stampede, head scratches? This exhaustion must be making her delirious. Yes, that’s what it must have been, the exhaustion.

With a resolute slap on the tabletop, she rose from her seat.

“Ok, that’s it, party over. C’mon Milly, we’re going.”

Twin whines met her ears, but Meryl only glared at the other two.

“No, enough is enough. It’s late, we’re exhausted, and the table is filled with almost a dozen pints. It’s time to turn in.”

Now having her resolve back, Meryl whirled on Vash and flicked him against the nose.

“This also counts for you, Mr. Fluffybuns.”

Resolute on finally getting her well-deserved sleep, Meryl slapped some double dollars onto the table, grabbed Milly by the arm and Vash by the ear, and headed out the saloon.

Sweet bed, here she comes.

______

That was easier said than done, however.

As fate and circumstances would have it, the small size of the town only provided one inn for the whole town, so Meryl found herself dragging two drunken giants along with her.

The inn was a mere five minute walk from the saloon, but the sheer difference in size, mass and drunkenness made it an ordeal for Meryl to keep her two friends on track. She felt like she was running after children that tried their hardest to run off. Only the kids were over a head taller than her and probably could throw her around as easily as a sack of potatoes.

So, it took them a good twenty minutes to finally arrive at their five-minute-away inn, and Meryl all but slumped against the counter. She was just about to ask for their keys when two heavy weights barrelled against hair, squashing her against the table and knocking the air out of her lungs. With a loud groan, she pushed them off of her, shoving them in the direction of the stairs.

“Off with you two! Let me get our keys in peace, geeze.”

Meryl turned with a huff, trying not to look too disgruntled at the man at the counter. Thankfully, if anything it was amusement crossing his features. He offered her a laugh.

“Rough night out?”

“You don’t even know. The keys to room 104 and…”

Meryl noticed she had never asked Vash for his room number. As she turned to yell after the two drunks, a small jingle caught her attention.

“And 107.”

Two pairs of keys were dangling before her eyes. She met eyes with innkeeper who only smiled at her.

“Your buddy came in just a few hours ago, and I wouldn’t forget such a gaudy get up for a while.”

A nervous laugh made its way out of Meryl’s throat. So far no one in town seemed to even have an inkling that Vash was, well, THE Vash the Stampede. Still, comments like these unnerved her just a bit.

“Oh, yeah, he just really tries to stand out, you know. Thinks it’s going to land him some points with the ladies.”

Meryl bit the inside of her cheek. Even to her that explanation sounded kind of fake, but to her relief, the innkeeper’s chuckle seemed sincere.

“Well, just make sure that he doesn’t do anything stupid. The women here are vicious. If he makes the wrong move, they gonna put a bounty on him and come for his head!”

The man cracked up at his own joke, Meryl laughing only to hide how much this unsettled her. She knew it was meant as a joke, but from experience, things always liked to end badly.

So, as not to spill something she didn’t mean to, Meryl yanked the keys from the man’s hand with as much restraint as possible and hurried after her friends.

Milly and Vash were struggling up the stairs as she approached. For a moment, her heart almost jumped out of her throat when the two of them bent backwards at an alarming angle, but they managed to readjust themselves with a loud thud on the stairs, breaking out in drunken giggles.  Meryl moved to shove them up the stairs, trying not to hurry them too much as to prevent them from falling over.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Meryl, they arrived at their room door. Meryl had to grab onto Milly and Vash so they wouldn’t mindlessly keep wandering down the hallway. She spun them to face her and thankfully caught their attention. Dangling the key in front of Vash’ face, she placed it in his palm, turned him around and pointed down the corridor.

“Just three doors down from here, alright?”

Vash blinked slowly, moving his eyes from the empty hallway to the key in his hand, down to Meryl and back again. Meryl waited with waning patience as his fuzzy mind processed her order, but not too long and he gave her a lazy smile and an even lazier salute and went to trudge down the corridor.

Sighing in relief, Meryl turned to her own door and unlocked it with a swift movement. The door was barely open a fraction when Milly squeezed through, making a straight beeline for her bed. Meryl could only smile, Milly really had the right idea. Collapsing in bed seemed like the best course of action right now.

However, just as Meryl moved to close the door, a nagging little voice in her mind made her hesitate. With apprehension, Meryl leaned back to see beyond the door and down the hallway.

Vash had, thankfully, found the correct room and was currently trying to push his key in the lock. Emphasis on trying.

With Vash’ glasses on, she couldn’t really read his expression but by the way his brows furrowed and he kept missing the keylock entirely, she was pretty sure his eyes refused to focus. Meryl watched him miss the hole sometimes by an inch, other times barely even striking the metal of the doorhandle. When one miss sent the key clattering to the floor but Vash kept repeating the hand motion still, Meryl groaned in resignation.

She threw a quick glance into her and Milly’s room, only to find her colleague passed out on the bed. Meryl closed the door and locked it, just to play things safe, then quickly crossed the small distance between her and Vash’ room.

Vash, for his part, had finally caught up with the fact that the key was not in his hand anymore. The way he flexed his fingers and frowned down at them were enough to clue Meryl in. When she came up to his side, she gently pushed him back a little.

“Move a bit, will you?”

Meryl noticed him startle, but as soon as recognition settled in he smiled and took a step aside. Meryl bent down to retrieve the fallen key and smoothly unlocked the door. Just like with Milly, the moment the door was open just a slit, Vash pushed his way inside. Meryl threw a glare after him but ultimately let her shoulders slump with a sigh. At least he was safely in his room.

Sticking the key on the inside of the door, Meryl turned to Vash to remind him to lock it after she left, when he suddenly stunned her into a pause.

Instead of flopping into bed, Vash had his duffle bag over his shoulder and was currently pushing open the window. Meryl only managed to startle herself out of her stupor when Vash swung a leg outside the window. With a few quick steps, Meryl bound across the room, grabbed him by the bag and dragged him back into the room. Vash fell flat on his ass, the momentum bringing his feet up in the air, and Meryl used the short moment to slam the window shut.

She whirled on him with an incredulous look on her face.

“What the hell are you doing, Vash?!”

Vash sat up with lighting speed, eyes so big they peaked out from behind his glasses.

“What does it look like, I’m bailing! They’re already after me!”

Meryl felt her heart drop down to her knees. Vash was being pursued? Why hadn’t he said anything until now? Wait, if he was being followed why had he even stopped here? And how could he let himself get this plastered knowing there was danger?

Shaking her head wildly, Meryl quickly dispelled the mounting questions from her mind. Now was not the time to fall into panic.

“Vash, what are you talking about? Who is after you and since when?”

Vash was back on his feet again, trying to edge closer to the window, but Meryl planted herself as a barricade, not allowing him to leave before she got the answers. With an indigent whine, he met her eyes.

“Didn’t you hear the innkeeper? They’re already out for my head! There’s no telling how long it will take ‘til they get me!”

Air tight in her lungs, Meryl’s eyes widened as realisation hit her.

Then she smacked Vash upside the head.

Meryl rubbed her face tiredly as irritation burnt through even her strongest haze.

“Vash, you idiot, the guy was JOKING. Now stop acting stupid and get your drunk ass in bed.”

When Vash still looked resistant, Meryl’s patience was worn too thin to talk him into doing anything. Instead, she just yanked the bag from his shoulders, grabbed him be the suspenders at his back and dragged him over to the bed. With a strong shove, she pushed him onto the bed. Vash landed with a pained grunt, but the moment he realised the softness he found himself in, his body went lax with a content sigh.

Feeling a headache come on, Meryl rubbed her temples as she thought about what to do next. With a longing look at the door, she debated whether to just leave and finally get the sleep she so desired, but Vash was hanging halfway off the bed, still fully clothed and with a gun strapped to his leg. Against her better judgement, Meryl went to close the still wide-open door and go help Vash properly get into bed.

She returned to him no 10 seconds later, and his hip was already sliding off the mattress. With a result huff, Meryl grabbed him by the belt of his coat and dragged his body fully onto the bed. She made quick work of the clasps of his boots, sliding them off and arranging them next to the bed. Next followed the knee protectors and his gun, which she decided to keep on the nightstand to still be in quick reach for him. Once again, Meryl pulled him up by the suspenders that connected to the back part of his coat, and settled him against the wall to more easily open the buttons of his coat.

She took a moment to read his expression, mostly to see if he was still awake. The reflection of his glasses didn’t give her any insight on what he might be thinking, but when his lips slowly stretched into a smug grin, she was at least sure he wasn’t asleep.

“Oh my, insurance girl, didn’t peg you for the handsy type.”

Meryl just rolled her eyes at the overly suave tone and slapped him against the chest.

“Oh, shut up, you. Don’t spout such nonsense, rather help me get this off.”

At her comment, Vash’ grin only grew but he did as he was told. With practice ease the last few buckles and buttons popped open and he slid out the form fitting coat like it was no problem. With a little shift of his hip, he tugged it out from under him and let it crumple to the floor. Apparently satisfied to be freed from excess weight, Vash let himself fall back onto the bed with his hands behind his head.

Meryl just shook her head at his antics and retrieved the coat from the floor. She was honestly surprised his coat was in such good condition with how little care he seemed to handle it. She hung the coat up on a chair and took the time to right the discarded duffle bag as well. Stepping back to Vash’ bedside, Meryl reached down to eventually pluck the glasses from his nose.

To her surprise, an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her down. With a startled gasp, Meryl tried to retrieve her balance but ultimately found herself sat down the edge of Vash’ bed. He was grinning up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but Meryl only graced him with a huffed sigh. She placed his glasses by his gun before trying to peel off his hold on her.

“Come on, Vash, let go, I wanna get to bed as well.”

Meryl bit her lip, believing she might have given him just another sentence to easily turn into a tease, but Vash only laughed softly and secured his grip on her waist.

“Aww, come on, insurance girl, just until I’m asleep? Don’t wanna get nightmares. It will be real quick, I promise.”

Now, that was an unusually honest sounding request. Meryl peered down at him. Vash’ looked and sounded rather sincere, which perplexed Meryl a great deal. Even if drunk, since when did he act like this in front of her?

Still somewhat taken aback, Meryl gave a slow nod and let herself relax against the bedside. Vash looked content, small smile turning gracious, and closed his eyes with a sigh.

As he promised, he slipped off into sleep only a few moments after. Meryl couldn’t help but watch him. His little smile soon turned lax, his jaw even hanging open slightly. The arm around her loosened its grip until Vash’ hand lay slack on her lap. She could easily unwind herself from him now, leave and finally get to her own bed, but something in the carefree, calm and dare she say, vulnerable expression on Vash’ face made her so mesmerized she couldn’t get herself to move.

Then, a little twitch of the hand in her lap. Muscles tensing in his arms up to his shoulders. His jaw clamped shut and his brows furrowed. His dreams seemed to turn sour.

Meryl watched him still, apprehensive on what to do. Had he actually known he’d experience a nightmare? Was it something that had happened, or was it the alcohol that made his mind turn dark?

Either way, he seemed to have anticipated it even in his drunken stupor, and he had asked Meryl to stay.

Slowly, with her own hand trembling, she laid her thumb on the crease of his brow. With gentle strokes, she tried to ease the tension, staying attentive on how his body reacted to her touch. His muscles relaxed just a bit, the arm around her not clutching at the fabric of her shirt anymore. But the furrow in his brow and the downturn of his lips wouldn’t leave his face.

The image of a goofy smile and feeling of feather-light texture beneath her fingertips rushed through her mind.

Ever so slowly, her fingertips glid across his forehead until they met the base of his hairline again. With one smooth motion, Meryl buried her fingers in his hair. She let her nails lightly scrub against his scalp and once again carefully loosened any tangles she could find.

The effect was instant. She had not brushed her fingers through his hair three times when a heavy sigh left him, and so did the tension. The knit of his brow immediately evened out and his mouth popped back open in tiny breaths. His body basically melted into the bed after only few moments of her combing through his hair.

Vash was doing fine, he was fine. She could leave.

Meryl really didn’t want to leave.

A humourless laugh left her. She felt so selfish, enjoying an intimate moment like this even though Vash was so vulnerable underneath her hands. Meryl couldn’t deny the happy buzz beneath her skin to see him so content, so at ease. She also couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through her as smooth locks glid in between her fingers.

She wanted this, she wanted this so badly, but she also knew she couldn’t for so many reasons.

She knew Vash. No matter how big a flirt he was, intimacy was just something he seemed to deny himself at any cost, be that physical or emotional. Not that she was any better. Meryl had to bitterly admit that she was not ready to act truthful to her emotions either, she was too prideful and scared to do that.

So, sharing such a calm moment together, while one half was in drunken, sleepy daze, felt both exhilarating and awful at the same time.

But still, Vash had let her close, had requested her presence, even if he was drunk. So even if it was egocentric of her, if only for a few moments more, she wanted to be self-indulgent and enjoy the quietness and intimacy she could only dream of.

Vash was drunk out of his mind, he wouldn’t remember this.

He would never have to know.

______

Except when opening her eyes the next morning, an aquamarine gaze was staring right back at her. There was surprise, confusion, realisation and some kind of excitement sparkling back at her, and Meryl couldn’t stop the thrum that went through her body.

Oh, she was not ready to face these feelings just yet.

So a scream, a slap and a flustered march back to her own room would have to do for now.

[leifygreeens]

Hello, I was wondering if I could request Kent x Reader if you don’t mind since you said requests are open? The dynamic being an oblivious farmer who is just very polite and unaware as fuck while Kent is basically just like “I would both kill and die for you” (I apologize I am completely obsessed with him)

I don’t personally feel anything but platonic fondness for the rest of the townies, so this was a really nice challenge. It did take me forever to write because it gave me a lot of trouble and I kept rewriting it, but I eventually landed on this and I’m pretty pleased with it. They’re both dumb, but they figure themselves out by the end. I really hope I did your prompt justice, anon, and that maybe it was worth the wait! Enjoy! <3

2650-ish Words. This is a monster. I don’t like writing infidelity, so you can be sure that there is a hefty amount of canon divergence, even if I don’t mention anything outright. GN!Farmer. This is a little suggestive at certain moments, they flirt quite a bit (Kent does it knowingly, the Farmer does not because they are an oblivious shit), and there’s drinking, but nobody’s drunk. Ah, and there’s cursing, and Kent imagines the Farmer being all roughed up once (nothing explicit), and I use “Yoba” instead of “God.” Yanno. For immersion. I do say “fuck you” to the immersion in favor of using our twelve-month calendar year, though, so. There’s also that. Lmfao

Kent swirls the scotch in his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around with the ice. It’s Friday night, half-past seven p.m., and the saloon is lively and bright. He’s been people-watching since he arrived, settled alone in his little corner. Marnie and Lewis still haven’t figured out their shit, Robin is attempting to teach Demetrius to dance without stepping on her toes once again, and Elliott is lamenting his writer’s block to Leah at the table over.

Same old, same old.

“Evening. This seat taken?” The Farmer asks, a nearly-empty drink in hand and a knowing grin on their face. 

Except for this. This is a relatively new development.

Kent smiles up at them. “You know it isn’t.”

“Just in case.” The Farmer settles down on the stool next to him, the legs of their newly claimed chair screeching terribly against the worn down hardwood of the saloon. His heart tries to leap out of his throat and into their careful, calloused hands, but he swallows it down with another sip of liquor. It burns his throat terribly, but he welcomes the distraction.

“I haven’t seen you at the saloon in a while,” Kent says, his voice rough from the alcohol. They take a sip of their own drink—something deep red and fruity, with a cherry sitting at the bottom of their glass.

“I try to take a little break at least once a week, but last week was hectic as hell.” They sigh, a satisfied smile on their lips as they sit back.

“Yeah? You get a lot of work done on the farm?” Kent asks, openly checking them out as they set their drink down and stretch their arms high over their head. A few months ago he would’ve been more discreet, but now he’s given up entirely on subtlety. The Farmer never notices anyway. The face they make as they stretch has his mouth going dry, and he drinks a too-large sip of his scotch, trying not to make a face about it.

“Before the snow hit, yeah, but now there isn’t really anything for me to do. Winter doesn’t make it easy for crops, so I’ve been collecting other things to sell. Animal products, gems, that sort of thing.” The Farmer settles down, done with their stretching, and Kent silently thanks the universe for giving him a break. “Actually, I was in the desert today. I haven’t been to the skull caverns in a while, so I spent most of the day down there.”

He immediately rescinds his gratitude, and sets his glass down with a sharp thunk.

“You went to the caverns?”

The Farmer nods, shrugging a bit as their mouth twists into a frown. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a great run, if I’m honest. A few gems and geodes. I wanted iridium ore, but there was basically nothing. I only got three nuggets from what was there because I spent so long beating back monsters.”

That last bit has Kent’s blood running backward, and he taps his fingers on the table-top, the beat agitated and quick. “That’s unfortunate.” 

The Farmer snorts. “Yeah, tell me about it. I could’ve gotten more done if I just stayed home, honestly. But it’s my fault for going on a bad luck day.”

He doesn’t know what the fuck that means, if he’s honest, and he’s not particularly superstitious himself, but he’s learned not to question them. Except now the thought of the Farmer being overrun by monsters won’t dissipate, and it’s making his stomach turn. He clenches his jaw. 

“You should bring me with you next time.”

The Farmer looks up at him, their eyes wide and stunned for only a moment before they’re chuckling into their glass. “Yeah? You wanna be my good luck charm, Kent?”

Yoba, he does.

The Farmer licks their lips clean, and whatever juice Gus mixed up with their alcohol has stained their lips and tongue a ruddy red.

He leans forward, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand, and smiles. “I could be.”

They laugh outright, bright and delighted. Kent absently notices the quick glances they’re receiving from the other patrons. Nosy.

“You know, I was talking with some of the ladies at Caroline’s aerobics class on Tuesday,” the Farmer starts, rolling the stem of their glass between their pinched fingers. Their smile is soft. “They said something interesting about you.”

Kent raises an amused eyebrow. “You gossiping about me, Farmer?”

“It was against my will, I assure you.” They deadpan, and Kent laughs, covering his grin with a wide palm.

“Enlighten me, then: what trivia did they bestow upon you against your will?” Kent asks.

“They said you never smile unless you’re with me,” The Farmer says quickly, rushed out in one breath like they can't say it fast enough. Kent’s eyes widen, and he’s pretty sure there’s steam rising from the top of his head, but the Farmer doesn’t catch any of it because they refuse to look at him. “And that I’m the only one who’s been able to make you laugh, since you came back.”

They were gossiping like roosting hens, the lot of them. Kent sighs heavily, harsh and a little embarrassed. How can they see it, but not the Farmer?

Still…

“They’re wrong, actually.” Kent straightens up, pushing his near empty glass aside. 

“Yeah?” The Farmer asks, and Kent doesn’t try to think too hard about why they sound so disappointed, or why they’re fighting back a frown.

“Even before getting drafted, I wasn’t like this.” Kent admits, and he can feel the tips of his ears flushing hotly at what he’s about to confess next. “I’ve never been like this with anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” The Farmer blinks owlishly, their hand stilling on their glass. “Really?”

Kent shakes his head, humming an affirmative. “Just you.”

“So… I’m special?” They ask, and it’s obvious they’re joking, the tilt of their lips just a little too teasing, but he doesn’t care. It’s obvious, and they’ll figure it out for themselves eventually.

“Are you going to the caverns again tomorrow?” Kent asks instead of answering, flagging down Emily for the bill. She notices immediately, and Kent knows it’s because she was staring. Everyone is always fucking staring.

“Um.” The Farmer picks at a loose thread on their shirt, even though there isn’t one. He doesn’t mention it. “Yeah, I was—I was thinking about it, if the day’s luck is good.”

“You don’t need to check if it is.” Kent watches Emily walk out from behind the bar, the bill and a pen in hand. “I’ll be your good luck charm, remember?”

The Farmer opens their mouth to respond, with the prettiest blush on their face, but Emily finally appears at their table, effectively cutting them off.

“Here you are,” Emily says, a curious smile on her face as she hands him the bill. 

He sets the bill on the table and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “Thanks, Emily. How’s business tonight?” 

“Fridays are always busy, so it’s going well, I suppose. What about you two? How’s your night so far?” She asks, mischief sparkling in her calculating blue eyes. Even if Kent didn’t know her and Haley were siblings, the way they look at the world would give it away immediately. Haley’s eyes are far more cunning, but still. Two peas in a pod.

Kent places a few heavy coins in the tray, making sure to tip her a few extra than usual, and passes it back. “Great, but we’ve got plans to go into the desert early tomorrow, so we’re gonna head out.”

“Calico Desert?” Emily asks, and Kent is almost surprised she doesn’t push for more info. “My friend Sandy lives over there!”

Ah. That’s why.

“I’ll make sure to say hi to her for you,” The Farmer jumps in, making deliberate eye contact with Emily. The smile on their face is polite, but distracted.

“Would you?” Emily smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Farmer. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” The Farmer’s returning smile is genuine this time, and Kent’s heart thumps heavily against his ribcage. If they make his heart race any more, he’ll have to check in with Harvey for potential bruising.

“Well, you’re all set, so y’all have a good night,” Emily says with a smile, reaching out to pluck their empty glasses off the table.

“You too.” Kent stands up, pushing his chair in and waiting for the Farmer to get up to their feet. “Are you ready to go? Got everything?”

The Farmer nods, and Kent follows them with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets as they walk out. He takes one hand out to hold the door for them as they step out into the frigid winter air, and almost immediately his fingers are numb. He’s never been able to handle the cold very well. It’s in his best interest to head home, to get out of it and into some central heating, but…

“Can I walk you home?” Kent asks quietly, after the door swings shut behind them. The Farmer stops short, and he can’t tell if the flush is from the cold or from something else.

“You’re welcome to, but don’t you hate the cold?” The Farmer gestures vaguely at the snowflakes floating around them. “Shouldn’t I be the one walking you home?”

Kent smiles, his chest suddenly light. “Maybe, but your place is farther, and I don’t wanna say goodnight to you just yet.”

“Like my company that much, huh?” The Farmer asks, cocking their head to the side as they slip their hands into their pockets. The collar of their winter jacket pulls against the back of their neck, and Kent steps onto the icy path. 

“Let’s get you home, Farmer.” Kent starts walking, expecting them to follow. He smiles at the sound of their boots crunching against the frosted grass and gravel, and starts heading for the farmlands.

“You ignoring my questions on purpose, Kent?” They ask, but he knows it isn’t a question.

“Yep.” He nods. “We’re taking the bus tomorrow morning, right? What time should I meet you there?”

They sigh, playfully irritated, and he grins to himself. “Pam usually gets there at 9, so I should be good to head out at eight-fifty? If that works for you?”

“Eight-fifty it is, then. Anything in particular that you’re looking for down there?”

They sigh, looking up at the cloudy sky as they walk past Marnie’s. “Same thing as today. I really need iridium so I can get Clint to upgrade all of my tools before the new year, and I need my hoe upgraded desperately if I want to make a profit off of strawberries next spring.”

“Thinking that far ahead, huh?” Kent glances at the sketchy caravan beyond the trees next to Cindersap, and purposely puts himself between it and the Farmer. 

“Not by much, but I have to if I don’t want to go bankrupt. Strawberries are good for a lot of other stuff, too. I can make jam and wine with them, which are both pretty profitable.”

“Are you going to grow anything else, or just strawberries?”

The Farmer shrugs and unlatches the south gate to their property. “I grow some things year-round in my greenhouse, but I think I’ll only plant strawberries in the fields, since they’re the most profitable.”

“How do you know?” Kent asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t know shit about farming, truthfully.

“I’ve done the math,” they say, pulling a small notebook out of seemingly fucking nowhere. Kent glares at their jacket in confusion. “They’ve got the highest profit ratio, based on how much I drop on them at Pierre’s stand and how often they grow. Strawberry plants fruit every four days once they’re fully grown, so I can get the most out of them if I start them early.”

They hold out their notebook, flipped to a random page with a smattering of bullet points and notes in their handwriting. There’s a silly doodle of a strawberry at the top of the page, and Kent smiles fondly.

“You’ve got this shit down to a science, Farmer. I’m impressed.”

They snort, and their notebook practically dematerializes as they shove it into their jacket, but he doesn’t see a pocket—where on earth do they put it?

“Two years of fucking up and not planning ahead has taught me to think about the future a little more.” They shrug. “We’ll have to see if I can actually pull it off, though; planning ahead won’t mean anything if I can’t get the iridium ore for it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’ve still got two months left.”

“Two months goes by pretty quickly, though.” They sigh, and Kent watches as the lampposts in front of their house begin illuminating their face.

He swallows hard and averts his stare. He shrugs, forcing himself to be casual. “Well, between the both of us and a little luck, I think we’ll manage it just fine.”

They hum, and he catches their smile through his peripherals.

“Maybe.” The stairs on the Farmer’s porch creak under their weight as they step up to their front door, and Kent knows he has to say goodnight now, but as they go to pluck their keys out of their pocket, he grabs their wrist.

“I know I’ve been kinda pushy, but I want you to tell me honestly.” Kent knows without a shred of doubt that his fingers are nearly frozen against their skin. They look at him, chin angled down with their sudden height difference. He won’t go up their front steps to even it out, though. That’s a boundary he won’t cross, not unless they ask him to. “Is it really alright that I come with you tomorrow? I don’t want you to force yourself to be okay with it if you don’t actually want me there.”

The Farmer’s lips part, and he sees rather than hears their breath of surprise—a cloud of vapor in front of their face, glowing orange in their porch light.

“Why have you been so pushy?” They ask, and now it’s his turn to get ignored. “Why do you want to come with me so badly?”

Kent lets go of their wrist, and his palm burns. He doesn’t have it in him to lie. “Because I’m scared of what might happen to you if I don’t.”

They’re quiet for a long moment, recognition passing over their face, and Kent loves the fact that pity is never something he’ll have to see along with it. Not with the Farmer.

They walk forward, placing a sturdy hand on the banister as they lean in close. “I have one more question for you, Kent. Answer honestly, and I’ll let you come with me.” 

Kent nods stiffly, his eyes flicking everywhere but their own. “I’m great at honesty.”

They hum, and Kent watches, frozen solid as they glance at his lips. “Am I special to you?” 

He bites his lip, the back of his neck burning. “Yeah—yes. You are.”

They nod once, and then step away. Kent watches, a sudden panic thickening in his chest.

“Good.”

Wait, 'good?'

The Farmer unlocks their front door, and opens it wide. They turn around before stepping inside, and their smile is giddy. Kent’s panic subsides. He’s imagined rejection more times than he can count, and he’s pretty sure that’s not what it looks like. “I’ll see you at eight-fifty, okay? Don’t be late—I’d hate to have to leave my good-luck charm behind.”

“Cross my heart.” Kent nods, his own smile just as giddy. 

They close the door, just a bit. Their eyes twinkle. “Goodnight, Kent.” 

“G’night.” He waves, and the cold isn’t nipping at his fingers as much anymore.

When he collapses into bed that night, his skin is flushed and cold, and his heart is thumping erratically in his chest. His smile doesn’t subside, even as he falls asleep.