#light a fire only being good in the last minute of the song is exactly like how the apostle's storyline is only good

[mxdotpng]

genuinely if i ever said this on twitter my acct would get reported for bullying but the apostle's story line is not as good as everyone says im sorry. its not. Its Not.

[sinning-23]

Fishbowl (Buggy x Siren!Reader)

I hope you guysss like this one lol it’s been in the works for a minute and is one of the last in the siren/mermaid series! Also sorry for any spelling errors! This one with be a two part red and definitely some angst? Or at least I’ll try lol angst isn’t exactly my specialty!

Anyway, ENJOY!

Your nails claw at the glass, leaving scrapes and indents in their wake. After being captured by these pirates, you were transported to a large glass dome on wheels. You were panicking, the screeching from your echolocation making passerby’s of the crew cover their ears and double over.

Why you? You hadn't even been by the ship...they just pulled up to the shore of your home island firing cannons as your sisters swam for cover. You directed them, helping them escape only to be grabbed by the hair an dragged to the shore before you could make your escape.

Any mermaid knew what happened when they were captured.... fin scales used for jewelry, the rich meat of your tails used in rare dishes. The your teeth would be grinder down to pearl like where’s, drilled for necklaces. Nausea builds in the pit of your stomach. This was it.

He approached you, lifting you by your hair as your gills opens and close at the side of your neck, an unpleasant, wet sounding “gasp” filling the silence.

“What a treat. My audience is gonna love you.”

You swallow hard, native tongue sliding off with venom. He sneers at this.

“Too bad I can’t understand you sweets.” Buggy chuckles.

He’s got your arm in an uncomfortable grip as he drags you across the sand and flings you into another crewmate. I’m some kind of silent agreement the carry you across the sandy beach to the temporary tank. Your stomach turns, glittery tears falling down your cheeks.

Currently, you keep clawing, scratching, and screeching, and the glass begins to crack at this latest noise. You needed to get out. But before you can fix your voice to scream again, he enters.

"Please shut your mouth sweetheart. You're not going anywhere.” He explains with a roll of his eyes.

You speak again, and of course, he can understand but it’s something along the lines of,

“I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”

_____4 months______

You scratched a tally for each day you were there, the fishbowl now adorned with a stand and a pretty label in fancy blue ribbon and gold paint. He forced you to act in his shows, putting your gifted set of pipes “to good use”. Even though your siren song was powerful, its intended purpose seemed to fade away.

Every song you sang, the sorrow of being captured poured into your notes, making the audience ever more mournful than they already were. Your songs and performances almost always ended in tears now, Buggy’s crew opting to wear earplugs in fear they’d end their lives then and there if they heard one more melancholic tune.

Buggy, on the other hand, was beginning to grow ever impatient. The first two months of shows had gone just fine! His crew and audience were so enamored by your beauty and sound. Now it was just pitiful. But even though it pissed him off his own decisions led to failure, he couldn’t help but want your gorgeous set of pipes to himself.

Often, he’s caught himself in a daze, wondering what it feels like to have you sing him to sleep, your hands caressing his face with a smile and he pulls into a sense of security. Fat chance though…

Besides, you hadn’t even really been properly introduced since that day he surprise adopted you(kidnapped). Perhaps he should make conversation? He shakes his head at the thought, sitting in his designated chair, just watching.

Your scales flash and flicker sparkles of light in the empty tent. Maybe that’s why he captured you in the first place? You were beautiful. And his did he love seeing those pretty glittery tears roll down your cheeks when you’d first met.

A smile plays over his lips when you catch him staring, your eyes narrowing for a moment before you press against the glass, blowing bubbles at him from under the water. You say something he can’t quite hear.

In a curious haze, he stands, walking up to your fishbowl, looking at each tally you’d engraved into the glass.

“Why won’t you let me go?” You hum, the water making your voice somehow sound prettier that ever, the slight muffle making him hum.

“Because I like sad songs.” He jokes, circling your glass prison.

How typical of him, to joke in a serious situation like this, well serious to you at least. He really takes time to observe you, the way your scales seem to be some sort of opalescent chrome.

How your hair floats around your face, your gills opening and closing ever so slightly. He admires the smaller fins adorning your spine and forearms. He wonders if you’re insecure about them.

“Sing for me.”

It’s a demand, and before you can protest, he’s already back in his chair, watching, resting his head against his closed fist.

Even though you feel obligated, your voice and song feel softer now. Almost as if the small interaction with the captain had only slightly lifted your spirit.

And somehow your hymn didn’t seem so dismal.

[zyonsay]

Blinding Lights

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Warnings: NSFW-> guk guk 3000,Alcohol, Gay shit

Reader: Male

Word count: 1'655 Words

Song i listened to while writing: "I threw at my friend's eyes and now im on probation" by Destroy Boys

AN: Hey :] Lemme know what u thought about this! Im open for tips, as i still struggle with writing. Also this is like the first time i wrote smut. Deadass. But anyways, Enjoy!

Your black military boots made a slouching, wet sound as you walked through the city streets of London. It had rained earlier, but that didn’t stop you from having fun at the club.

The entrance that greeted you looked absolutely disgusting, the only thing you’d expect to occupy the old sewage system would be rats or some old, sick stray dogs. But behind the big, withered cloth that probably inhabited maggots a dimly lit, colorful tunnel hid itself. It was covered in Graffiti and colorful bottles hung from the ceiling. Loud music could be heard from the other end, which was covered by a dark blue curtain, resembling the night sky you had abandoned just a few minutes ago.

The colorful lights blinded you temporarily, but you felt right at home. This was one of the less popular meet up spots for underground artist and queer people. It wasn’t just some nightclub, it was a safe space for all kinds of people, that’s why you loved it so much. You too were very much part of the LGBTQ+ community, so you sought out your nightclubs very carefully. Being involved in a hate crime wasn’t exactly on your bucket list, obviously.

 Some unknown band was absolutely tearing up the stage with their messily decorated instruments. People were dancing, drinking, and singing. It was a big chaos, but you felt at peace, surrounded by your people. The big, broad room was filled with a bar, a few sofas and the stage and it was also thoroughly decorated with graffiti, more colorful bottles, and fairy lights.

You ordered yourself some alcohol, vodka being your favorite. The band was finishing up their last song, then thanked the lively crowd. Then another band stepped foot on the stage, their guitarist and lead singer looking familiar. You’ve seen him around a lot, but you’ve never talked to him. You were basically eye banging him, he looked very good. The way his eyeliner had already smudged made him even more attractive. It almost seemed like he read your thoughts, because he stared right at you, a big grin plastered on his face. You thought it might’ve just been your imagination, the crowd was way too big for him to have looked at you specifically.

The band began performing their first song, the mass of people around you immediately started dancing and singing. Everybody was having a good time, including you. You were dancing with your drink still in your hand, gripping it tightly as the alcohol was way too expensive for you to spill it. You directed your glance towards the stage again, wanting to grace your eyes with the hot man shredding his guitar solo. People were cheering and clapping for the young man, showing him exactly how amazing he is. He continued singing the lyrics to his song and while doing so he grinded against the mic stand, firing on his ego even more.

People were screaming at his cheeky action, a drowned “GET ME PREGNANT!!!” could be heard from the other side of the crowd, many people laughing at that. The punk on stage was smirking at that, though he was seemingly looking at you again.

Now shit got absolutely wild, he was pointing at you and then pointed to the door, which hid a storage room for the band’s instruments. You grinned at him, taking another sip of your drink. He then sang along to the suggestive lyrics of his song, looking at you again, making a very distinctive gesture with his hands. He wanted you to blow him. You felt hazy, blood rushing to your face as you smirked at him, nodding while raising your drink to him.

His band finished their set, people were cheering them on, excited for their next song. Meanwhile a young woman went on stage and announced a campaign for disabled people, receiving a lot of cheers and support.

You on the other hand had made your way to the storage room, feeling a hot, burning feeling in your core. Your cheeks were slightly reddened – whether it was from the alcohol or from your excitement, no one knows. You must admit, giving a blowie to a random guitarist wasn’t the most unhinged thing you’ve ever done. You really didn’t care to be modest anyways.

Then suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to spin around and look at whoever was behind you. You were greeted with two beautiful brown eyes and a cheeky grin.  

“Sorry if I put you on the spot there, mate” You smirked at him, then replied “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t want to, but who would say no to you?” You smiled, checking the person opposing you. He was tall and handsome, something mischievous glimmering in his eyes. He smiled at you, slowly growing impatient, since there wasn’t much time in between his band’s sets.

He led you into the storage rooms, revealing a sofa and wall covered in mirrors. This was probably where the bands waited for their performance and could freshen up their makeup. “By the way, I’m Hobie Brown.” The man now known to you as Hobie sat down on the sofa, gesturing you to come over. “Names’ Y/N.” You muttered with a smile, eyeing the bulge building up in the punk’s pants. You shifted closer to Hobie, not wanting to waste too much time. You settled between his legs, kneeling on the orange and pink patterned carpet.

You started fiddling with his belt, looking up with your big eyes, almost looking innocent if it wasn’t on the big smirk on your visage. “Ready?”, you were barely whispering. The young man, who was looking down at you with a grin only nodded his head. You opened up his jeans, slightly pulling them down to give you space for slutty activities. You touched his member through his plain grey boxers, that already had a wet spot on them, revealing his excitement. Hobie let out an impatient groan, wanting you all over him this instant. You quickly got rid of the remaining cloth in your way, your own erection pressing painfully against your jeans. You took his cock in your hand, Hobie hissed at the feeling of your soft hands around him.  You pumped him slowly, before leading your lips towards his tip, enjoying yourself a lot. “Mmmhhhh…” The man above you threw his head back. You then took more of his dick into your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You swirled your tongue along his shaft, earning quiet grunts and sighs from Hobie. He gripped a handful of your fluffy hair, slightly fucking into your mouth.

He looked at you through lust filled eyes, a pleading expression painting his face. “Can I fuck your mouth?”, he whimpered.

 You nodded, slowly letting his member out of your mouth. He stood up, facing your kneeling figure. You got right back to savoring him, as he held you by your hair again. He then began thrusting into your mouth, enjoying the wet, warm feeling. He still held back some of his length, waiting for you to look at him with your doe eyes. He smirked down at you, whispering something along the lines of “Get ready, darling”.

 You took the rest of his cock into your mouth, tears building in the corner of your eyes. Hobie fucked your throat slowly at first, but quickly fell into a more violent pace. You glanced to the side, seeing a sinful scene playing in the mirrors covering the wall. It could’ve well been a baroque painting on the wall of a filthy rich art critique. But there you were, in an underground nightclub, full of drunk queers, sucking off a musician. 

Hobie was now thrusting at a devilish fast pace, using you like a cheap toy to get off on. He looked at you, grinning at your face. “You gonna swallow, like the good little slut you are?” You nodded slightly, not wanting to disturb his pleasure. Your own dick was pulsing in your pants, starved from any kind of stimulation. You were stabilizing yourself by holding the back of Hobies thigh, feeling slightly dizzy due to alcohol and lust. You wanted to make the man in front of you feel good, even tough you merely met him a few minutes ago.

Your thoughts were cut off by Hobies cock twitching in your mouth, you quickly looked up at him, watching happily as he threw his head back and let out a moan. “Ngahhh… Fuck!” Thick ropes of cum flowed down your throat. You tried your best to swallow all of it, as you didn’t want any of the white fluids landing on the fluffy carpet beneath you. Even though this carpet is probably covered in it anyways, you thought to yourself. This was a messy nightclub after all.

Hobie slowly pulled out, grinning down at you again. He pets your fluffy hair, with you sitting at his feet like an obedient dog. “Good Boy.” The punk zipped his pants up again, as you got up from the floor, straightening your messed up clothes. Paying little to no attention to Hobie, you didn’t expect him to tip your chin up. He captured your lips in a feverish hot kiss, getting a taste of himself. You two then parted, leaving a fragile strand of saliva between you two. Outside of the storage room, a loud voice announced Hobies band again, receiving many loud cheers. “Gotta go sweetheart”, he turned around to leave, when you gripped his wrist gently. You looked at him, smirking.

 “Ya wanna come home with me later?”, you received a mischievous look from the man. You cocked your eyebrow, wanting an answer. Hobie then leaned forward, leaving a small kiss on your neck. “Deffo.” He then left the storage room, leaving you with weak legs. You were definitely planning to take this man home tonight.

[tedcicle]

Official Palcove Propaganda Post

[ID: Text with a fire effect that says "WATCH PALCOVE NOW" in red capital letters. /.End ID.] Now you may be asking... Who?

Palcove is both the name of the iconic duo of Ted Nivison (of Rainforest Cafe/Margaritaville/400mg edible fame) and Charlie Slimecicle (professional gay sex roleplayer, at least that's what he should be known for) and the area they lived in during their brief time on EpicSMP (a modded SMP created by, uh... *cough* Matt SuperMega *cough*. You can hazard a guess as to why this SMP didn’t really take off.)

Okay, why should I care?

I shan't lie and say EpicSMP is like, crazy good, or a hidden gem, or YOU NEED TO WATCH THIS — really, it's basically TekkitLive but there's way more people on it. It's a largely forgotten SMP, overshadowed by more popular and successful SMPs that happened before or around it. (OriginsSMP, for example.) There's a bunch of interesting duos trying to start their own businesses, and while nothing happened happened, at the end everybody died, which is interesting to think about. (Actually, wait... yeah, it’s just like TekkitLive.) But it was fun. There were some good bits, some light roleplay, and enough seedlings of a plotline to get an average viewer Andy like me invested in. There was some kind of season 2, but it never took off. I'm sure MCYT fans are accustomed to the disappointment of non-existent fandoms, unfinished stories, or lacking narratives by now (Shadow of Israphel was my first heartbreak, but maybe yours was something else). Another one wouldn’t hurt, right? Why Palcove specifically? Well, as a former SMPLiver— (I am escorted off the stage to a chorus of boos) I just really like Ted and Charlie's dynamic. They’re the perfect comedy duo. Charlie works best when he has someone to bounce bits off of, and Ted knows exactly how to pick up what Charlie is putting down and elevate it to the next level. (The adverb and adjective bit in the first VOD had me DYING.) Story-wise, Charlie had a satisfying character arc. He’s a pivotal character and I liked how he plays off of Schlatt and Swagger, too. Not to mention, this is the last time Ted has uploaded or streamed any Minecraft content... I miss him, chat. Also, it makes me happy. Isn't that enough?

Well, okay, you got me interested. How do I watch?

I'm glad you asked (even if you wouldn't fucking say that, I don't care). Firstly, a primer. Sometimes we start a new thing, but it ends up not being to our liking, and that's fine. Maybe you want to walk around and see how it fits before you commit. That's fine! All I ask for is 14 minutes of your time. That's like, 4 songs.

This video is the first day edited down into a nice, palatable, taste-tester, courtesy of unknown energy on YouTube. It's so nice and cozy and comfy, it's the equivalent of a mug of hot chocolate curled up in an armchair with a warm blanket wrapped around you. As for continuing, I highly recommend starting with Charlie's POV. It's probably who you're most familiar with, and he bothered to edit down his streams (even if the videos are like, an hour long). If you like listening to men argue and make the unfunniest jokes imaginable, then definitely try the full VODs. All of these have been archived by the channel EpicSMPVods.

Charlie's POV Episode 1 | Episode 2 | Episode 3 VODS Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | End of S1* Ted's POV Episode 1 (Yes, he really only did one episode) VODS Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

*This VOD is Swagger's POV, as Charlie didn't upload the finale at all, and the VOD of it either doesn’t exist or wasn’t archived. The relevant Charlie section starts around 15 minutes in.

And if you want more of the story, well, Swagger has one of the most comprehensive EpicSMP POVs.

Final Thoughts

Like many other “stream only” SMPs, a lot of content regarding them simply gets lost and forgotten. There's plenty of reasons why EpicSMP wasn't very successful (in-depth analysis post pending). I’m just glad that not only did Palcove exist, but it's archived. It just so happened to survive against surmountable odds and even have what I consider a satisfying narrative ending (in-depth analysis post pending). And I’m insane about it. And everyone else should be, too.

[ID: Text with a fire effect "WATCH PALCOVE NOW" in red capital letters. /.End ID.]

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

i headcannon that benny and reader blast rihanna while closing the gym. it becomes a tradition that they blast music and dance around while closing. it gets to the point that the boys start wondering why benny keeps being late to their hangouts after his work. at some point they catch benny blowing his back out and reader recording and laughing at benny

Benny, Better Have My Money

Chapter Five | Drabble for the Through the Scope series | Chapter Six

*best read in between chapter 5 & 6*

Rating: IDK ?? everyone ??

Word Count: 1029

TW: tooth rotting friend fluff w/ Benny & some ass throwing ?!?!

Notes: anon, i wish i could kiss that beautiful brain of yours for thinking of this absolutely fucking hilarious scene thats now 100% canon in the through the scope series to me HAHAHA !! i hope i did some justice to your brilliant idea & thank u so so much for submitting it ((: this one is for u ! happy reading <3

*i wrote this w/o looking over it because the idea was just to good so if you see any grammatical errors.. no you dont*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — ��� — — — — — —

Closing up after a long shift was never fun. Well, it was never fun until you started working for Benny. After the last guests were ushered out and the doors were locked, you were put in charge of the gyms music. It was only fair since Benny had free reign during operating hours after all. Plus, your taste in music wasn’t exactly family friendly. 

“Alright, what are we feeling this evening? Lady Gaga? Megan Thee Stallion? Doja Cat? Maybe some Rico Nasty? What artist really says ‘I want to clean this whole gym and look hot while doing it’ to you?” 

“The evening song choices are all yours. I’m way too tired to even think about makin’ another decision right now.”

“Well,” You say as you start scrolling through artists on his phone to find one that will bring the energy that both of you need to get this done. “If you’re so tired, why are you going out with the guys after this?” 

“You know that doesn’t count.” He’s currently working his way through cloroxing all the workout benches and weights. “The only decision I have to make when I’m there is if I want another drink or not and that's easy. Of course I want another fuckin’ drink!” 

“Touché,” You laugh as you find the perfect playlist for the evening. “Let’s get this cleaning party started!” 

Rhianna’s Bitch Better Have My Money starts blasting at full volume from the gym's speakers as you make your way over to the basket full of used towels. 

Bitch, better have my money

Y’all should know me well enough

Bitch, better have my money

Please don’t call me on my bluff

Pay me what you owe me

“Oh fuck yeah! I love Rhianna!” He yells as he turns to you. 

You pull out a towel, point to him from across the gym, and start swinging it over your head as you lip sync to the song playing. 

Kamikaze if you think that you gon’ knock me of the top

Shit, your wife in the back seat of my brand new foreign car

Don’t act like you forgot

I call the shot, shot, shots.

Benny makes finger guns and pretends to fire them at you on each beat. “Sing it, girl!”

The two of you run dramatically to each other in the middle of the gym and start dancing like crazed animals. Each of your tasks having been long forgotten as soon as the music started. You both know by now that neither one of you will be leaving anytime soon.

***

“Where the fuck is your brother, Will?” Pope huffs.

Frankie, Pope, and Will have all been waiting at their table for Benny to show up for 45 minutes now. They turned the waitress away three times before they caved and ordered a round for themselves. Hoping that a light buzz would satiate them.

“I’ve been texting him, but he’s not answerin’!” Will explains. “His location says that he’s still at the gym.” He turns his phone screen over to show the others.

“This is the third time this week that he’s been late. He’s never taken this long to close up before.” Frankie adds. 

Pope tips his almost empty beer bottle in his direction and nods. “Fuck this. Finish y’alls drinks and let's go pay him a visit.”

They all do as Pope orders and make their way out of the bar. As they cross the street and enter the gym’s parking lot they see both yours and Benny’s cars in the same spots that they were in this morning. All of the lights in the building are still on as well. 

“Do y’all hear that?” Frankie asks the men walking next to him. “It sounds like -”

“Rhianna?” Pope says curiously. 

All three of them walk up to the gym doors and the sight that greets them will be burned into each and every one of their minds for all eternity. 

***

You’re currently holding onto one of the corner poles from the boxing ring with both hands and trying to explain to Benny how to shake his ass.

“Move your hips to the right, then the left, then shimmy down, and use your knees to help you bring your ass up and down!” You’re winded from both teaching your lesson and singing with Benny for almost an hour straight. It also doesn’t help that you’re trying to yell instructions over Rhianna’s S&M song.

“I think I got it now! Let me try!” 

He helps you down so he can climb up and get into position. You pick up your towel and phone off a nearby workout bench. There is no way that you aren’t going to document this moment.

‘Cause I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it

Sex in the air, I don’t care, I love the smell of it

Stick and stone may break my bones

“But chains and whips excite me!” You and Benny sing together.

You are struggling to hold your phone still as you record because you can’t stop laughing. Benny is throwing everything, and you mean everything, into his one man performance on the edge of the boxing ring. He definitely paid attention to what you showed him. Even put his own little twist on it by bringing his right hand back to slap his ass. You can’t help but get swept away in it all and you start hitting him in the ass with your towel as well.

“Let’s go, Benny! Shake that shit for me!” Your lungs threaten to burst from over exhaustion. 

S-S-S&M-M-M

S-S-S&M-M-M

Oh, I love the feeling you bring to me

Oh, you turn me on

***

“Should we tell them we are here?” Will ask hesitantly, still not entirely sure what he’s watching.

“I’m not even sure what we would say if we told them.” Frankie quips as he wishes you would get back up and dance again. “Pope?”

He looks to his left and sees him pulling up your contact information. “Let’s tell them that their audience wants an encore.” Pope presses ‘call’ and puts the phone to his ear with a devious grin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @modernperplexity  @mxtokko  @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 }

[your-divine-ribs]

The Devil Next Door Part 13

Words: 2.3k

This is as far as I have written for this story but hopefully I’ll get it updated soon ❤️‍🔥

The Devil Next Door Masterlist Main Masterlist

❤️‍🔥 Van's POV ❤️‍🔥

"You're not seriously thinking of joining a gym are ya?"

Bondy's voice makes me jump and I resist slamming the laptop shut, not wanting him to think I'm trying to hide what I'm doing.

"Christ sake, wish you'd quit sneaking up on me like that!" I complain, hoping to divert from what he's just seen over my shoulder as I sit at the kitchen table hunched over my MacBook.

No such luck though, he's grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he crosses to the fridge and takes out two bottles of San Miguel, prising off the tops and passing one to me.

"That's the gym Y/N goes too ya know," he smirks at me, taking a pull on his lager. "But I'm guessing you already knew that, huh?"

"I didn't actually," I lie, shrugging for effect. "I've been meaning to join up to one for ages and this one looks good... and it's local. It's just around the corner."

I'd spotted the gym's slogan on Y/N's duffle bag when I saw her arrive home a few days ago. It wasn't like I was spying on her or anything, it's just that I notice things when I'm skulking around out front having a ciggie break... and I've been having lots of those recently. Whenever I'm writing and I'm stuck on a lyric or a riff and I need a bit of inspiration I'm straight outside lighting up. I don't know why it helps but it seems to clear my head. I can't understand song-writers who'll take a long hiatus complaining about writer's block, it's just a fag break for me.

"You... join a gym? You only move off the sofa to put the kettle on most days. Reckon you'd cough up a lung if you got on a treadmill for more than five minutes."

The expression on Bondy's face says it all and it's quite obvious he can see my real intentions but I make an attempt to string him along, feeling a little embarrassed about the lengths I'm prepared to go to to impress a girl who's made her disdain for me abundantly clear.

"Fuck off, I'm not that unfit! Every time I'm on stage it's like a bloody workout. Couldn't do all that if I was a slob... and I used to be dead good at footy. Was the star striker at school back in the day ya know."

I take a swig on my beer and Bondy watches me, amused. "Yeah exactly... at school. How many years ago was that now? Sure that was before you discovered booze and fags."

"It's never too late to take on new hobbies," I say, ignoring his teasing as I scroll down the web page, perusing the classes.

"Let's see how long this one lasts!" He sniggers as he comes to stand behind me, watching on as I quickly scroll past yoga and Pilates.

"No one's catching me bending my body into ridiculous shapes dressed in Lycra!" I laugh.

I have no idea what HIIT is and I disregard weight-training too. I'm just hovering over the spin classes when the words 'Learn to box' catch my eye. That's more like it. I'm not hench or anything but I'm fast on my feet and I'm actually much stronger than I look. I try to imagine Y/N being impressed when she sees me driving my fists into a punch bag but my daydreams are interrupted by Bondy's mocking laughter.

"There's no way ya doing boxing mate, yer built like a rake! That's taking feather-weight way too literally!"

"It's just for fitness," I scowl, automatically shifting in my seat to correct my slouched posture. "It'll be training and a bit of light sparring and stuff. They're not exactly gonna stick me in a ring with Tyson Fury are they?"

Bondy rips the shit out of me for a few more minutes whilst I return fire, then he announces that he's going to get ready for the party, leaving me sitting there alone with my thoughts.

He's probably right to laugh, I'm not a fighter... and I'm definitely not a fitness fanatic. I might have a quick temper and boundless energy but I've not got an aggressive bone in my body and I'm certainly not cut out for boxing. This whole health-kick fad is admittedly a ridiculous idea but when I get a plan in my head I'm determined to see it through. If there's even a minuscule chance that it might get Y/N to see me in a different light rather than the lazy, lay-around no-hoper musician she currently sees me as then I'll take it. And if I just so happen to bump into her at the gym whilst she's working up a sweat then that's a bonus.

Tom was round again yesterday. He'd called in presumably after work to assist Y/N with fixing the trellis back on to the front wall of her house. I had to grit my teeth seeing him out there flexing his muscles like Superman come to help out his Lois Lane. Whilst I was relieved she'd got it sorted to save me from the unpleasant twinge of humiliation every time I left the house to see it lying there on the floor taunting me, I couldn't help but feel wounded that she hadn't asked me to fix it for her. After all it was my mess and I'd have been quite happy to clear it up. It was obviously yet another clear message telling me that she wasn't ready to forgive me and still wanted nothing more to do with me, but despite all of that I still can't seem get her out of my fucking head.

Much as I hate to admit it to myself I've got it bad. I've not felt this desperate kind of yearning for a girl in a long time. I definitely had my moments in my teenage years when I'd just got into music making and my hormones were running rampant. There was Chloe who Bob used to drum for who I was crazy about but at nine years my senior just wasn't interested in me. Then Kathleen came along who was as equally enchanting as she was toxic. She only had to click her fingers and I'd come running like a pathetic little love-sick puppy. I probably had a lucky escape on both accounts but they certainly inspired some quality lyrics.

"Heyup look who it is, it's Muhammad Ali!"

Benji's jeering voice sounds out from the open doorway, snapping me out of my thoughts. I look up to see him bounding into the kitchen with his fists raised in a fighting stance, huge shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.

"C'mon then," he teases, bouncing on his feet, ducking his body from side to side. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee! What's all this I hear about you taking up boxing then? You'll get the shit kicked outta yer for sure!"

"Just thought I'd try something different instead of laying around the house with you losers," I smirk back at him, rising up as he jabs a fist into my side, catching hold of his wrist and yanking him forwards quickly and hard enough that he stumbles forward. I take advantage of the fact that he's temporarily unstable, tugging him into my side and wrestling him into a head-lock.

"What the fuck! Gerr-off Van! I've just done ma hair!" He yelps as I scrub my knuckles roughly over his curls.

I just laugh as he wriggles ineffectually, finally pushing him away whilst he fusses over his curly mop. "Reckon it's an improvement Blakes!"

I think he's going to retaliate but Bondy appears back in the kitchen and we soon get distracted with talk of the party as he hands out more beers which we gratefully accept. Any thoughts of kick-starting the new healthy version of me are pushed aside at once as I swig on my drink and light up a ciggie.

"So... who's coming tonight then Bond?"

Bondy ticks off a list of names on his fingers, mainly crew and their friends, a couple of promoters we've been involved with locally since the move and several bands who've supported us at recent gigs. That's not what I really want to know though. The list is distinctly male-orientated. I probe him further.

"Any more girls?"

He grins. "Why dontcha just ask me mate? Y/N's coming. I didn't have to work my charm on her to persuade her either. I asked Tom and he confirmed that he's bringing her."

My heart sinks and I can't keep the disappointment from my voice. "What the fuck? What did ya have to go and invite him for?"

"We've been messaging since we met at the gig the other night, he's a sound lad. Thought it'd be good to get to know some people from the area aside from the band connections. He's a big fan too."

"Competition eh?" Benji sniggers and Bob who's been quiet so far pipes up, ever the optimist.

"Well, at least she's coming. Heard about your little accident the other night. Sounds like you've got some making up to do so this party's the perfect opportunity. Sure she'll be good with you in no time if don't pull any stunts like that again and actually make an effort."

Benji dissolves into laughter at the mention of the incident which is branded in my mind like a scar on my ego. "What the fuck were you thinking Van? Smooth... real smooth!"

Despite my wounded pride I can see the funny side now and there's plenty of good-natured piss-taking and banter exchanged until I realise there's only half an hour until the first guests are due to arrive. I stub out my cigarette and drain my beer before I'm heading upstairs for the shower.

❤️‍🔥 Y/N’s POV ❤️‍🔥

"Honest opinion. You don't think it looks too slutty do you?" You're FaceTiming your friend Lilly, the back camera aimed at your full length mirror whilst you twist and turn your body so she can take in all your angles.

"It's literally just a little black dress, it looks great on you. It's not too short and it’s not like your tits are hanging out or anything. You should wear it."

You screw up your face as you switch to the front camera, flopping down on to the bed.

"It's just not really me is it? Maybe I'll just wear my jeans and a t-shirt..."

"Y/N!" Your friend scolds you. "Make an effort for once... it's a party! You're just used to wearing those shapeless scrubs all day, that's all. You can't just turn up in jeans for a date."

"It's not a date!" You're quick to reply. "Me and Tom are just friends. I mean, I like him and all... I really like him, but I don't want anything serious... not right now. I don't wanna rush into anything."

"Does he know that?"

You shrug, groaning. "God knows.... he's so nice Lilly... like I'm beginning to wonder whether he's too nice. What if we end up getting it on and then it gets messy and he doesn't wanna be mates anymore? He's like my best mate at work, I'd be lost in that shithole without him. Ughhh why do things have to be so complicated? Why can't I just meet a hot guy who I can have a little fun with, no strings attached?"

She giggles mischievously. "Oh, you mean like Van?"

"Fuck off!" You cry, hoping the blush you've applied will hide the sudden flush in your cheeks. "I told you what a dickhead he was didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I've seen a picture of him now." You see her eyes sparkle through the screen and you don't like the way your gut twists at her obvious appreciation. "There was a review online for that gig you went to the other night. The write up was brilliant by the way, they reckon the band are tipped for great things."

"They are pretty good..." you mumble, waiting to hear more.

"You didn't tell me how fit he was!" She gushes, a huge grin on her face. "Honestly, dickhead or not I'd be well in there! There's just something about scruffy haired indie guys with guitars... I don't know what it is, I can't help myself."

You tell her to shut up, laughing along, promising her that you'll definitely bring her along to the next gig and hating the way that the thought makes you feel deeply uncomfortable. She's your best friend for god's sake and you've made it quite clear that you don't want Van. You can't exactly gatekeep him can you? An image floats into your head of Lilly sitting in Van's lap backstage with her hands in his hair and her lips glued to his and you automatically bristle with fiery jealousy. Maybe you could set her up with Johnny instead...

"Wish I was coming tonight," she sighs, interrupting your thoughts. "Was supposed to be going out with my sister but she's let me down... again. Looks like it's a takeaway for one and Love Island for me."

"At least you'll feel fresh tomorrow!" You stand up and approach the mirror again, tugging on the hem of your skirt which has ridden up around your thighs, wondering if you're too dressed up for a house party.

"I'd better let you go," Lilly says, aware that you've not got long before you need to go. "Remember I'm living vicariously through you tonight so you'd better keep me updated! I wanna hear all about how cute Tom is... and what crazy shit Van and that band of his get up to..."

You're just about to say goodbye when she quickly adds "you can put in a good word for me too if you like..."

"Yeah... yeah... I will," you mutter reluctantly, then "if I even speak to him."

You end the call just as the loud chime of your doorbell rings out. There's just enough time to slick on a touch of glossy cherry red lippy and tousle your hair and then you're rushing down the stairs to answer the door.

[shelivesinhermind]

Hearth for Canute and Emma, if you’re up to it!

Thank you for the prompt, friend! And look! I did a modern au for this one. But we still have Canute warming his hands by the fire ;) I hope you enjoy!

A Christmas Fire

With only one week till Christmas, Emma was determined to decorate the house for her boys.

Since her husband’s passing, life had been hectic.  Years past, Emma always tried to make a big deal of Christmas for Edward and Alfred. Becoming a single mother had put a damper on her usual plans. Not that much had changed from when she was married, even when her husband was alive, they seemed to argue more than anything. Her time had already been consumed by her boys for many years. Yet, she still had to stand on her own in a new way with her husband gone, which explained why she was last-minute putting up Christmas decorations.

Richard, her brother, and his wife had shown up that morning to take the boys for some “holiday cheer” they called it. Emma did not know exactly what they were doing, but she had a good idea it included hot chocolate, a light show, and a trip to see Santa at the mall. It did not matter, what did matter was she now had all day to decorate the house and surprise her sons when they returned.

First, she needed to get all the boxes full of Christmas décor down from the attic. One box at a time she slowly filled their living room with Christmas. Only taking breaks to drink her coffee, Emma soon had the house stacked with every Christmas décor item she would need. Each box labeled to their specific location in the house, she first began with the tree.

Of course, no day decorating for the holiday season was complete without classic Christmas music. Prepping her turntable, she pulled out a vinyl of Nat King Cole “The Christmas Song” and let it play.

With the house to herself, coffee, and music, Emma was ready to relax and enjoy the day. She let herself get giddy while assembling the Christmas tree. Snow fell gently outside the window as she arranged the tree in front of it. Once she had the lights lite, tinsel of green and red was wrapped around the large tree. She would wait to decorate the tree with ornaments, knowing Edward and Alfred would want to help.

Emma descended from the step-ladder she stood on to reach the top of the tree, then realized she had not lite a fire.

In the center of their living room sat a large hearth with plenty of room for stockings, garland, and all other decorations. She loved to have a fire lite while making the mantel festive.

The hearth now crackling with the warmth of a fire, she grabbed the boxes with all the décor she would need. With care she hung each of their stockings, hesitant with what to do when it came to her late husband’s stocking. The memory and pain, not only of his death, but of the mess their relationship had become, left her grieving for things she never thought she wanted. Her heart ached at the thought of the Christmases her sons heard them arguing instead of being a happy family.  

Determined to change things this year, she moved on with her plans to surprise her sons. She hung her late husband’s stocking so the boys still had a way to remember their father. Emma wanted this Christmas to be so much better for everyone, including herself. Grieving had taken so much joy from them this year.

The mantel glittered with garland, lights, nutcrackers, and candles. Each stocking hung cozy in front of the fire. Emma had made good progress, and she was so happy with all she had accomplished before lunch time.

With that thought, her stomach rumbled to remind her it was lunch, and she had not eaten.

While she ate, she brought the boxes of her Christmas dishes to be unpacked and placed in her cabinets. In the kitchen, she placed her bright red tablecloth on the table, and a large candelabra in the center.

The afternoon still ahead of her, Emma now was left with the outside decorations. Hanging the wreaths would be easy, but she had never put up the lights around the house herself. Usually, her and her husband would both help each other, after days of coxing on Emma’s part, and have the lights hung in no time. Yet, this year it was only her. She could wait for her brother to return; he would most definitely help. She was determined, however, to have the house in tip-top shape by the time they returned.

Putting her puffy jacket on, snow boots, and gloves, she made her way to the garage.

Getting the wreaths out and hung would take some time, as their large house had many windows. But Emma had done this many times and felt secure enough on the ladder to reach the intended windows.

One by one she went around the house and hung the wreaths, stopping only to fluff them to perfection. Red bows decorated the bottoms, standing out against the white backdrop of their home.

Seeing the afternoon was soon coming to a close, she knew she had to get the lights up.

Each car that drove by and waved hello had Emma silently praying no one would witness her demise if her attempt to light the house went badly.

The ladder she had to use for the lights was much bigger than the one to hang the wreaths. She had to be able to reach the top of the shingles to secure the hooks for the lights. She knew she should have someone spot her from below and hold the ladder as she ascended, but there was nothing else to be done, she would have to make due.

Taking the small box of hooks with her, she slowly ascended the ladder. Once she had the desired hook in place, she would have to descend and move the ladder to the next location. After the entire front of the house had hooks for the lights, Emma was silently pleased it was going better than she thought.

Now came the even harder task—she had to string the lights. She took a coil of lights and once again made her way back up the ladder. Securing the strand in place, she still had the other portion to string up. Lights in hand, she made her way back down the ladder.

One down, many more to go.

Moving the ladder again, she began the process over. Emma was getting weary with having to move and place everything herself, along with the caked snow on her boots, her trips on the ladder became more taxing.

Toward the end of the strand, with only a little more to go, she felt her foot slip as she climbed down the ladder. Not able to get purchase with her slick boots, she fell backwards. Just as she fell, she felt strong, firm hands grab her waist, and she fell into a body instead of the cold snow.

Laying there for only a second to gain her breath, she jolted up to see who she had fallen on.

“Oh my god!”

She instantly began searching the man who had undoubtedly cushioned her fall for injury. She felt his wide, thick chest, hoping there was no cracked ribs. It was then she realized she was openly groping a man, then she stopped, her eyes flicking to his—piercing blue eyes met hers, framed in a stern face with a dark beard.

“I am so sorry. Are you alright?”

He stared for a moment, as if he was dazed. Panic seized her as she thought instantly of his head and that he may have a concussion.

“Oh god! I am calling an ambulance”

She started to make for the house, but his hand jolted out to grab her arm.

“No, I’m fine. Just give me a moment.”, he grunted.

She stopped hesitantly, not fully believing if he was ok. As he sat up, she found her eyes once again roaming over him for injury. It was then she noticed his dark hair, shaved at the sides, and the short trim at the top slicked back. And was that tattoos on his hands? She had never really interacted with a man like him. All the men she knew, including her husband and brother, had been very sleek, professional, with business suits and Ralph Lauren attire. This man who had tried to prevent her fall was entirely different.

Fully sat up, he ran his hand over his head as if clearing it. Emma was still worried he had a concussion, but instead of asking about him again, she stopped as his eyes instantly went to her with worry.

“Are you hurt? That was quite the distance to fall.”

With the snow on her jeans now melted and seeping into her skin, she shivered. His eyes did not miss a thing, he was instantly standing, and came toward her. “What where you doing up there by yourself?”

Stunned for a moment, she stammered. “I…I was trying to get my home ready for my children. Are you sure you don’t need to go to the emergency room? I mean…I literally fell on top of you.”

Something twinkled in his eyes that she could not make out, but he answered, “I promise, I am fine. I’ve had worse.”

Scanning the neighborhood for anyone out and about, every house was quiet, no one even out walking.

“Where did you come from?”

He let out a deep breathe, the air turning to smoke in the cold, winter day. “I just moved here from out of town not long ago. I was walking my trash to the dump when I noticed you hanging the decorations. On my way back was when I noticed you almost fall.”

Almost was an understatement, if not for him, she could have most definitely injured herself. 

“I…Thank you. You definitely saved my evening from being ruined with my children. It would not have not been the happy time I planned if I was injured.”

 He gave a bashful smile, and Emma was smiling just at the thought this giant man was the least bit shy with her. “I’m Canute, by the way.”

“Emma.”

“Well, Emma, it seems you have done a hell of a job at it, even by yourself. I could not have done better without help.”

She only gave him a nod of thanks, it was then she noticed the sun starting to slowly set, she needed to finish before her family came back home.

Noticing the change in her face, Canute offered, “Do you need some help? I could take to the ladder this time and you hand me the strands of lights.”

She knew it would take her much longer to finish the lights around the house, so she agreed. Canute gladly climbed the ladder so she could stay safely on the ground.

Soon they both were laughing as they worked together to put the lights up. Emma marveled at how easy conversation with him was, and was pleased to find he had two boys of his own, currently with their mother until next week. It was nice to talk with someone who understood being a parent by themselves. She figured that being a divorced parent came with its own hardships.

When the lights were finally all assembled, there was nothing else left to do but light it up. They found the extension cords to connect all the outlets, and Emma sighed with happiness when the house sparkled.

Her boys would be so happy when they pulled up and saw their home lite for Christmas.

Noticing how late it had gotten, Emma needed to get inside.

“Would you like to come in?”, she asked Canute.

“Oh no, I won’t take up more of your time. I know you want to see your boys.”

She was so taken back by his insinuating he took up her time. Plus, her sons would not be home for a little while.

“You take up my time? I am the one who fell on top of you, and you so kindly turned around and offered to help me. Please, at least let me make you a hot drink or something.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

Making her way to the house, Canute slowly followed behind her.

They both shivered as they entered her home, the fire in the hearth still warm. Emma went to stoke the flames and get it blazing again. Taking off her jacket, she motioned to the coat rack.

“Please make yourself at home, I am going to go change.”

Canute’s only response was a nod as she made her way to her room.

Her jeans were soaked through from falling in the snow. Changing instead into black leggings and a soft off-white sweater, she added soft socks and instantly felt warmer.

Back in the living room, Canute stood in front of the hearth, his hands seeking the warmth of the fire.

“What can I get you to drink”, she asked him.

“Coffee would be nice, if you have any. Black.”

She was instantly in the kitchen getting the coffee pot ready.

With two steaming cups of coffee in hand, she returned to the living room, passing him the black coffee. 

“Can I get you anything else?”

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Snow started falling outside again, illuminated by the sparkling lights. It was nearly dark, and she was so thrilled she had gotten everything accomplished that she wanted to.

“I honestly cannot thank you enough for your help.”

Canute smiled. “Think nothing of it. You were practically done anyways.”

Both of them casually sipping their coffee, Emma asked. “So why did you move to our little-neck-of-the -woods?”

“A Fire Station Chief position opened up downtown. After years of working the long hours on the fire squad, I figured it was time for a change.”

Emma smiled to herself, he definitely was a man use to climbing ladders and saving people.

“What I would like to know is what kind of husband leaves his wife to climb the ladder by herself to hang lights?”

She was hesitant to answer and curious at the same time—he did not ask out of thinking her incapable, he asked out of clear annoyance she was alone to do it.

“My husband passed away. I just wanted to surprise my sons when they came back.”

As Canute went to take another sip, she noticed his eyes had an understanding glint to them, as if he understood. As a single father himself, she could see the solidarity he shared with her statement. A warm feeling came over her that she was not entirely sure had to do with the crackling fire she stood in front of.

“Well”, he said as his handed her his empty mug, “I should be getting back”

Following him to the door, Emma leaned on the doorframe as he grabbed his coat and made his way back out into the still falling snow. He turned once he made it to the side walk.

“If you ever need help in the future, I am more than happy to be of assistance. Number 17 is my place.”

Emma couldn’t wipe the constant grin form her face, still giddy at the Christmas lights that now shone on the white snow, and the man who had helped her make it possible for her children.

“I will.”

 As she watched Canute make his way up the drive and onto the walk back to his house, her brothers van pulled up. Soon two little boys came dashing out, wonder and awe on their faces as they saw the outside of the house.

If the massive hug her boys gave her were any indicator, she was certain she had done the right thing.

Richard was naturally curious as to how she managed the lights, but she would not worry them with her fall, she only told them she had help.

All she wanted was to enjoy this winter night with her sons, decorate the tree with them, and create memories they would remember forever. And maybe let her thoughts drift to the feel of Canute’s hands on her sides, and the way her body had warmed at his gaze.

[arrivisting]

2022 fanfic meme

okay, @undercat-overdog​ tagged me for this, three weeks ago, so naturally I’m showing up at the end of january being like, this is the time for a fanfic wrapped. absolutely.

Word count for the year:  I wrote much more than I posted. Also I have a couple of ao3s! If I only count posted fic in 2022: 60,035. that’s actually a lot more than I would have guessed.

Number of stories posted to Ao3: 10. though I feel like I wrote nothing in 2022! 5 to vauquelin (elftrash), 4 to arriviste, 1 to [redacted]

Pairings written for:

on arriviste: all gen, though one was elrond/celebrian, elros/wife, another technically nerdanel/feanor, another aragorn/arwen.

on vauquelin (elftrash), one was finrod/edrahil, one caranthir/haleth, one fingon/maedhros, two gen (one of them technically celeborn/galadriel).

a big year for gen and canon het. hm! unfortunately I have a lot of truly demented m/m in the pipeline.

Fandoms I wrote for:  everything silm/lotr except [redacted]

Most popular story: a wild surmise (gen, silm. elrond’s ship accidentally finds valinor of the years of the trees rather than valinor of the end of the third age). the unfinishedness of this one haunts me. people were so nice!

Fic I spent the most time on: the fire’s toll (gen, silm. nerdanel, amrod. past nerdanel/feanor) I wrote half of this in 2021 so it feels like cheating to put it in the 2022 list, but honestly: it’s so easy to write the first half of a story. I never have trouble getting started. writing the second half was agony - everything from

They wed in the way Elves had, once, at Cuiviénen: quite alone, out in the wild, with no one to witness but themselves. They had made promises to each other, and to Ilúvatar. They had lain down together under the wheeling stars and neither of them had been capable, then, of imagining a future in which they thought each other less brilliant, less fascinating, less perfect; in which they loved each other less, or in which they parted forever.

I always wonder if people can tell where the join is! I feel like when I stop dead on a story for ages (months... years) it’s horribly obvious exactly where I picked it up again, but I never notice these things myself as a reader. there’s a 3 year pause in the fic I just posted last night. I feel like it’s glaring, but hopefully not.

Fic I spent the least time on: there are a few very slight ficlets on vauquelin. after that, the least time I spent on anything was conversely the longest thing I wrote in 2022, easily sever what never was one (caranthir/haleth, 17k). was written in a hot panic/writing fugue in three days. I was literally writing it up until a minute before posting (challenge deadline). I wrote it in an uber. I wrote it at dinner with friends. I wrote 10k of it in one day.

did I have only three days to write it? no. I had months. I didn’t use them wisely.

Favorite thing I wrote: a wild surmise. I would like it even better if perhaps I had had even one iota of patience and not posted the first chapter and then dipped, but that first chapter was no effort at all. banged it out in an afternoon. it just walked into my head. I will spend tortured months finishing the other two.

I also like next year’s words a lot (gen; elrond/celebrian, elros/wife) because it was a challenge to remix a perfect story and to do it any kind of justice but I think I landed the plane? I’m not much use at tolkien’s languages so I was like D: D: D:

Story I’m most proud of: the fire’s toll. getting it off the wip list after a year+ of being totally stuck was so satisfying. I’m not happy with the balance of it, but I am so happy I finished it.

Funniest: I don’t think I’m very good at humour. I didn’t write anything that light in 2022! dawn song was meant to be terribly light and sweet (finrod/edrahil, the adoption of gildor into the house of finarfin) and I think it is, but it’s not puns puns puns.

Kinkiest: [redacted]

Saddest: hm. this is harder to answer than the funniest one. I usually don’t think what I’ve written is that sad but then people are sometimes like, wow, I was stabbed here. probably the fire’s toll.

Least Popular: a bit of ivory (gen, findis, lalwen).

Most Cringe-Worthy: [redacted]. though everything I write I cringe about. then years later I will reread it and be like ‘this is so good! what a shame I can’t write like that any more.’

Favorite Opening Line(s):

“It’s unbearable,” Curufin said conversationally.

Maedhros glanced at him. There had been no conversation before that remark. Curufin had simply come to stand beside him, leaning back with exaggerated casualness against the same window-frame that Maedhros had selected, sighed, and thus begun.

“The way you stare,” he elaborated. “You look at him like you’re starving and he’s dinner. You look at him like a Man seeing one of the Eldar for the first time. You look at him the way everyone in Tirion used to stare at the Silmarils whenever Father wore them--”

“That’s enough.”

“My point exactly!” said Curufin. “It’s become tediously clear that the staring isn’t ever going to stop. Father and Fingolfin fighting didn’t stop it, though loyalty alone should have been enough to quench it. Twelve years of exile only made it worse. It was too dark to see on the night we swore the Oath, but I would still wager Caranthir anything he wanted to stake that you were making eyes at Fingon across the square nonetheless. Well, Father’s dead. So’s Fingolfin, if you were holding back out of fear of him. Home’s gone, and we can’t go back. What could possibly be standing in your way now but want of courage?”

“My way to,” Maedhros began. Then he stopped, breathed in through his nose, and said, “I’m not in the mood to entertain you trying to be clever, Curufin. Go away, and try not to stab anyone as you move across the room.”  

“You want him,” said Curufin, ignoring him. “If you think you’re being subtle about it, let me assure you that you are not. You have never been subtle. Nor, for that matter, has he. Finrod used to say that it was painful to be in the same room as the two of you. He said sharing the very air felt indecent.”

“I think,” said Maedhros, “that you had better not mention our late cousin to me. Stop this vein of argument and tell me outright what it is you want. You are too much the son of our father to help me to the bed of Fingolfin's son without a better object than my happiness in mind.”

“Oh!” said Curufin. “You are determined to think the worst of me, after Nargothrond. I will not argue with you, though I am sorry that you think so little of me that you will not credit me with a sincere desire for your good.”

This isn’t really an opening line as much as an exchange, but it popped into my head almost full-blown and then I had to figure out a way to finish the ficlet/land the plane.

Favorite Closing Line(s): I didn’t really write any banger endings. I like to end on a knifepoint (to the gut!). I like the way the fire’s toll zooms out and the catalogue of nerdanel’s retrospective takes over.

Top Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

from 2022 fic? probably Dor Caranthir from easily sever what never was one. or the ruins of the Haladin steading. Sometimes a story is as much about the settings as the action.

Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: something I haven’t written really at all yet? Finrod surviving the wolf (serious). Finrod’s very secret diaries spanning the years of the trees to his death (silly). truth serum fingon/maedhros slipped into himring to cause chaos by a thrall (serious).

New things I tried:

Me, 2005-2011: I only write RPF.

Me, 2011-2022: as god is my witness, I will never write RPF again.

Also Me, 2022: 🤡

Fic-writing goals for 2023: oh lord. I don’t want to set the bar too high.

finish a wild surmise.

finish & post the fic known only as ‘the bad fic’.

finish & post the next scion fic, alias ‘the finrod and gil-galad fic’, alias ‘this long abiding’.

write some goddamn porn.

finish and post at least one (1) of the ossified wips in the wip folder: outsider pov/’how like a winter’, or ‘legxit’, or, wow, I don’t even remember how many wips I have on life support

finish a stranger in my bed?

finish and post [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [readacted] [redacted]

[bear-cubs-art-things]

PART 2 MMAU LETSGGOOOOOOO

kinda redundant here, but I swear its gonna get better 💀

❄️✨️🌱✨️🖌

The setting sun was beautiful.

A huge circle of golden yellow-orange sitting on the faraway hills of the Valley in a sky of brilliant oranges, purple-pinks, and deep night blues. There were a few clouds as well, lined with coral pink lighting. Truly it was Jasper's favorite part of any day.

He was sitting on top of the roof of the Rhondischite house. The shop had closed already, and profits were looking good as always. They were very successful business for a middle class monster family (on the lower end of the middle class).

The air was cool with autumn at its peak. Jasper loved the autumn time, with all its warm colors and cool days. And tonight was a beautiful evening to be out watching the sun set.

He made it a habit to watch the sun set a long while ago, when he was 15, 16 maybe? He's 21 now, so for quite some time he's been doing this. How it started exactly no one really knows. But that was irrelevant to the moment.

This moment.

The setting sun and all the quiet it will bring to the world once it's gone.

It's a spooky thought if you think about it too much. But Jasper liked the quiet, the solidarity. It made him feel that much more alive, more grateful to be alive.

There's this old Monster Proverb, from the Dawn of Fire; The Eternal Silence that Night brings should not be feared; the Day will sing its Song in the morrow.

Jasper was taught that proverb in the Temple when he was a child. It stuck to him somehow, and recalling that proverb during the minutes of the setting sun made him feel enlightened somehow. Reborn again though he never died.

"The Day will sing its Song in the morrow..." he whispered, to feel the effects of those moving words.

"Jasper?" Howie called out from a window.

"Hm?" Jasper turned around to see Howie peeking out of the attic's window. It was really an attic, so to speak, more like an observatory/upstairs study. Nonetheless.

"Ya wanna eat?" Howie gave a cheeky smile. He's silly like that.

Jasper couldn't help but grin. "I'll be down in a sec."

Howie gave a thumbs-up, then left, closing the window behind him.

Jasper turned back to the sunset. The sun was nothing anymore, the only evidence that was there were a few yellow-orange streaks of light in the sky, fading out to blue quickly.

But the stars were out.

Jasper looked above him, soaking in the thousands - no, millions - of stars twinkling and winking down on him.

The only remaining bits of the Celestials left in the sky were those stars.

The Shadowed Glare constellation was right above him, the eyes of its ghost a bright, shining red-white, staring down at Jasper's being.

Loodvigg's Star Map

Jasper got chills whenever he looked up at the Shadowed Glare. It wasn't that he was scared or anything, but he always felt that sense of being watched whenever he saw the Shadow Celestial's namesake.

He decided to go inside. Dinner was waiting for him, and he didn't want it to get cold like it was earlier this morning.

Jasper opened the window to the attic-servatory (as he liked to call it). A single candle-lamp sat on the table next to the window, shedding some light in the dark room. Jasper opened the lamp and blew out the candle before heading downstairs. He could see well enough in the dark (being of the Quarrister kind and native to the dark caverns of the Rocky Plain, he had enhanced eyesight to see in dark areas).

And down the stairs he went. Thud thud thud

He heard commotion in the dining room, and automatically assumed it was everyone finishing up dinner. To his surprise, however, they were just setting the table.

"The fish took a little long than expected," Carlee announced, "but everyone's here. I guess it all worked out."

Jasper already knew that when his mother said "everyone's here" she was referring to Jasper actually being down in time for dinner.

Everyone was in their respective seats, with Carlee being the last to the table. She turned to Falspar, who cleared his throat.

"We give our eternal gratitude to the Celestials for this meal. May this not be the last. Now, let us feast."

"Amen," was the unison reply from the table, closing out the prayer. Then, as one would expect, the sounds of clattering silverware and monsters eating were to be heard at the table.

"So," Carlee started, looking up at Jasper. "How many of those carving did you sell today, Jasper?"

"A few," he replied between a mouthful of food.

"Like, how many?"

"Mmm..." Jasper thought a bit. "Like maybe ten? It's not a lot but it's a start. Selling them for 50 coins a piece."

"That's a good start," Falspar nodded his head.

"Why use wood? Ya got ice in ya veins," Howie piped in. "Ya could be using that."

"Yeah, well, ice melts. Wood doesn't."

"Okay but ice magic doesn't melt as quickly-"

"My point is, ice melts and wood doesn't." Jasper looked at Howie. "What point are you tryna make?"

"I'm jus' sayin'," Howie shrugged.

"Oh! Oh!!" Juliette got excited all of a sudden. "Can I tell you guys something that happened at school today?"

"Of course, sweetie," Carlee smiled at her daughter, prompting her to go on.

"Okay, so, Talia and I were eating lunch at our table, right?" Juliette started her story, in which Jasper wasn't particularly listening to. Something at lunch, drama this drama that.

The meal went on for another half hour or so. Then Japser took the dirty plate to the sink to get washed. There was a few, being that the Rhondischites were a large family.

Rudy was cleaning the table while the younger girls ran to their room. Howie and Peri started on dish duty, and the parents resided to the living room where Carlee continued on a knitting project, and Falspar read through paperwork.

Jasper went back upstairs, this time to his room.

He closed the door to get some privacy (but true privacy is a luxury he never really gets in the house), and sat down at his desk. Still organized, still clean.

Jasper opened a drawer to his right. In the drawer were tools that one would use for carving. He selected a few, closed the drawer. He also had out a sketchbook too, and a pen.

His sketchbook was a thick one, bound by leather, stitched by Junegrass fiber. The paper was rough and absorbent, meant for inked drawings and the like. It was a good sketchbook of high quality, for sure.

The sketchbook, going on, was filled with sketches of monsters from around the continent and beyond. Busts of his family members, customers that he remembered, friends, but mainly full body sketches of Mythicals and Celestials. Of course, there was the occasional drawing of wildlife within the sketchbook.

These sketches, of course, were a base for Jasper to go off of, for his carvings. He'd draw, say, G'Joob, then practice carving G'Joob using his cold magicked ice as a medium. Once he was satisfied, he'd then select a wood and carve on the wood.

That said, Jasper got to work.

He took his pen and lightly dragged it across the paper. Black ink flowed like a river from its source, either gaining or losing thickness as the pressure of the hand changed. One line turned into two, which turned into four. Then eight, sixteen, and a messy outline of a tree. More lines, more black, and the outline slowly became a realistic drawing of an Everblue tree.

The Everblue tree had spiritual symbolism to the monsters. It's said that these trees were planted by Glaishur himself, filled with unknown properties directly linked to its alleged creator. Legend has it that any hungry, cold, homeless wanderer could take refuge under an Everblue tree, supplying them with food and shelter. These trees were beautiful, and even more so sacred.

Jasper lifted his pen away from the paper, satisfied with the swoops and sways of the drawing. A snow-covered Everblue, with fruit bountiful on its lower limbs.

Jasper put the pen back in the tin where he got it from, pushed the sketchbook back a little, and focused all his energy into making a decent sized block of ice.

Magic, you see, isn't easy to manifest. It takes focus and energy to produce even a small shard of ice.

Jasper held his hands palms up in front of him, willing the power of the cold into his palms. Focusing his breathing, in... out... in... out... and his body temperature began to decrease.

That's the thing about cold magic. Everytime you manifest it to the surface, you get cold. Jasper especially- he sometimes felt that he got more cold than other cold mages.

He felt his skin start to prickle with cold, goosebumps being raised on his forearms. His teeth started to chatter a little bit. Still, he had to focus. In... out... in... out...

Ice started growing upwards in his palms. Uniformly rectangular, a block manifesting into existence.

A little more... Jasper thought, shivering a little bit.

The block of ice rose faster, all uniform. It had to be at least 12 inches tall. 15 inches, then 18, then 20.

Then Jasper pulled back. His magic, anyway.

The cold sensation sunk back deep into his veins almost instantly, the warmth flooding his bones and organs once more. Jasper realized he could breathe easier now. Huh, strange.

And the block of ice still stood in his palms, unaffected by the warmth. He placed it on the table.

It was a good sized block of ice, definitely the size he's looking for for this project.

A large Everblue tree carving.

He grabbed his tools and got to work, chipping away little bits of ice.

Tink, tink, tink

The tree slowly began to take some sort of shape.

A knock at the door.

Jasper paused. "Come in."

His mother opened the door a little bit, just so her upper body could be seen.

"Just came to say good night, eldest child."

Jasper smiled. "Good night, Ma."

"Good night," Carlee started closing the door, making her leave. "And don't stay up all night carving! You have work tomorrow!"

"I won't, ma!" Jasper turned back to his carving. It wouldn't take more than two hours, right?

Carving away, and the minutes melted into hours. Pretty soon, the ice carving was finished. All he had to do was do the same thing on wood.

Which took longer, obviously.

Jasper decided not to do the wood tonight. It would most likely go into the late hours of the night. Maybe the early hours of morning, considering this is a larger project.

Besides, the ice carving of the Everblue tree was beautiful in of itself.

Hopefully it'll keep until Jasper returns to his project the following night. It should, being it is magicked ice, not regular ice

Jasper changed into some sleeping clothes from his drawer before going into the bathroom to clean his face. It was a bit late to fully bathe, but he bathed last night, so no big deal.

He retreated back to his room, sitting up in bed. The window was still open from the morning, allowing the starlight to twinkle on through. The many stars that were spread out across the night sky, like glitter glued stuck to a plate.

Jasper loved the night sky. He could come up with many descriptive analogies for it. "Galvana scooped up diamonds and threw them in the sky" was one of his favorites though. He read it somewhere, a book maybe? No matter.

He lied down, continuing to stare out at the night sky that for now was his.

Another proverb came to his mind

To the Night I shall sing to thee; one can not rid of the shelter you bring upon this world. So I pray, to the Night I pray, allow me in your sanctuary.

Japser liked that one. He felt at ease in the night when most would be fearful of its surprises.

It wasn't that Jasper didn't like the daytime or it's hustle bustle, no. Jasper just felt comfort in seeing the stars way up there.

Their protectors were up there long time ago, way before his lifetime. And even though Starhenge has been long since fallen, Jasper still felt like part of the Celestials were still up there.

Watching him. Guiding him. Protecting him.

His eyelids grew heavy, thoughts slowly spiraling into quiet. And at last he slept.

The Day will sing its Song in the morrow.

[asherlockstudy]

How to do perfect staging: a lesson from Italy

I mentioned at some point I might actually make a post drooling over Italy's Måneskin performance and staging. I was kinda bored to be honest and decided against it but then all those trashy rumours that try to bring the winners down seemed so disgraceful and embarrassing to me that I decided again to do it. Now, the truth is that their performance was a little better in the semi-final introduction act. Perhaps this was due to the anxiety of the Grand Final. This is why I am going to use photos and gifs from that act and perhaps this will show to some that the perfect package might need a little bit of everything, and not just slap your language on the audience's ears with the expectation that this alone is always enough. *Did I make this too personal?*

Anyway, I digress. And I don’t mean that the Grand Final performance wasn’t still the best of the night, I just mean it wasn’t at the same God Tier level as the semifinal one.

Here's why the Italians took advantage of the Dutch stage until its very last millimeter and way more cleverly than any other country.

This is the only act that starts from the back of the stage, where the singer Damiano David waits for us alone.

Even with the rest of the 25 competing countries, this intro makes you forget that you are watching a contest with 26 countries as guests. Unlike anyone else, Italy looks like the host, like this place belongs to them and the frontman waits for you to show you around and possibly drag you to the world of Måneskin. In fact, you almost forget it’s Eurovision - this now looks like a Måneskin concert or, even better, a more private space of theirs with an ominous industrial feel. One of the most impactful things now is the lighting. Take a look at it. Almost all contestants throw all the lights on themselves or on some important prop they have prepared. The Italians are the only ones who chose to just light the stage itself. The simple white lights on the black stage give the impression of depth and it is the only act which shows emphatically the size of the stage. Why this? Well, we already established that in the first seconds the viewers feel they are in a new space belonging exclusively to Måneskin - the lights make us feel that their area is vast and dark and we are about to be drawn to its depths.

Damiano indeed guides us to the front as he sings, where the rest of the band are on the top of a platform. The other members won’t come down and join Damiano until he sings the appropriate verse “Buona sera, signore e signori” (=Good evening, ladies and gentlemen) and accompany it with a theatrical flamboyant bow (that feels very Italian). That’s when, technically introduced to the audience after the official greeting, bassist Victoria de Angelis and guitarist Thomas Raggi come off the platform and join Damiano.

There’s nothing excessive about the visual effects. Only the use of white lights that give the perception of depth and in the background the big shadows of the group’s silhouettes. They are in the front and they cast their shadows in the back; they create to you a feeling of being trapped by them but do you really want to escape?

When the second verse starts, Victoria and Thomas take the paths left and right of the stage and leave Damiano alone. They take even more advantage of the stage and in a typical classic rock band way. These two play with the side cameras but the focus is more on Damiano, whose verse sounds more like a tongue-twister. Since the cameras are rightfully on Damiano, I must now address the elephant in the room. Damiano is particularly attractive. In fact, the whole band is almost mind-bogglingly attractive and they clearly take a lot of care about how exactly they are going to look but Damiano, as the frontman, does especially so. So let’s talk about the outfit. They all have essentially the same outfit, however it is cut differently for each based on the person’s looks and personality. Isn’t it fantastic?

Damiano, who oozes confidence and sex appeal, has accordingly the most “provocative” outfit of the four. His chest and arms are bare so that his many tattoos can be seen. I’ll talk about the other outfits later as they all have their place in the... uh... white lights.

During the second chorus Victoria and Thomas return at the center and after the chorus it is time for the first solo; Victoria’s. The cameras are now on her but the lighting remains modest to accentuate the dark beat of her bass.

Victoria is the only girl of the group and the most dressed of them all - how refreshing! Her outfit is more similar to Thomas but she is buttoned up in the front. How does she wish to underscore her uniqueness as the woman of the band? But of course, with long flamboyant girly sleeves that come to delicious contrast with her aggressive stomping and her wide strides. Both her hairstyle and her outfit is inspired or basically just outright 70′s classic rock look.

It’s time for the bridge of the song right after her solo and Damiano has his attention on her and also draws the viewer’s attention to her some more. This part of the song is lower and softer - in relative terms - that’s why Damiano “chooses” her to sing it to. The lights now turn red, the intensity rises but there’s light flirtatiousness between them, with many smiles to each other and the camera that turns around them as they launch at each other playfully.

Then the song gets darker, more intense, the guitar stronger than the bass and Damiano’s voice turns to a scream. For this part, he turns to his bro, guitarist Thomas and he now draws the attention to him.

He grabs Thomas by the neck in an intense, intimate way (that doesn’t mean sexual, just intimate. His interaction with Victoria wasn’t sexual either). It is clear that through different ways Måneskin want to stress how good and close their relations are and that their singer, who is apparently a show stealer by birth, wants to ensure that they all get equal amount of attention from their audience. I love this.

True enough, nobody is left behind! The last chorus starts with a drums solo and Damiano goes up to the platform to now meet and introduce to us Ethan Torchio. Ethan stands up and his giant shadow is on the now blue background: this is the moment for the - so I hear - somewhat shy drummer to shine in his own aesthetic. The Italians leave none of their assets to fall down and Ethan’s impressive hair rightfully steals the show.

Just like Victoria and Thomas look alike, so do Ethan and Damiano, that’s why their costumes are the most similar. Ethan has a vest that covers him more than Damiano but leaves his arms bare. Because whose else the arms do you need to see if not the drummer’s?

This song has something peculiar because it was not a song originally written for Eurovision; it slows down in the end and  does not end on some impressive note from the singer as usual but with the last solo we expect, that of the guitarist, because everything is fair in Måneskin! The focus has to leave Damiano, so now it’s the time for the visual effects to finally catch fire, literally,  because nobody is allowed to take their eyes off them! Måneskin use a huge amount of pyro that however feels appropriate for the intense chorus and the ending guitar solo.

Thomas steps up for his solo and I forget we are in 2021. This is the most 70s thing I would ever hope to see.

In a hell of pyro, Thomas looks like he was tranferred right from a 70s rock ‘n roll concert. His outfit would be gladly taken by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones. The unbuttoned jacket with this boho tie, such a classic 70s fashion touch. His haircut and even his FACE are the epitome of the 70s - what an ending sequence!

But hey we reached the end and this is Eurovision, the song slows down dangerously. Like I said, the Italians forbid us to get distracted. The attention must return to Damiano ASAP. Damiano says one last line and takes the audience with him to the very end with a death drop.

There you have it. Måneskin had me holding my breath for the full three minutes and I did not want to take my eyes off my TV. There are countless shows that are awesome - in this very Eurovision as well - but I was impressed by how they seemed to have found the perfect balance for everything in every single moment. They found the perfect stage concept for the song, they relied on visual effects only when they needed them and they stressed every twist and turn of their sound with a perfectly fitting move or interaction. They also all effortlessly could hold your attention and they made sure that they all would, with members often helping bring out other members. This performance was beautiful and, above all, clever which is why it was undoubtedly the worthiest of the win.  

[reids-rendering-reality]

Guys My Age

Summary: Y/N is the newest addition to the BAU team and Spencer appears to have taken a special liking towards her. The only problem is, he thinks he’s too old for her. However, that’s all about to change when they share a hotel room.

(A/N: I’m such a sucker for the hotel room trope so I combined it with two of my other favourite ideas: Spencer being older than the reader and catching her doing yoga)

Type: fluff + a sexual innuendo or two

Warnings: dirty thoughts, insecurity about age, age gap, anxiety, yoga?

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer Reid’s POV

I pulled the handle of my satchel over my shoulder as I sighed. It was a very long day in a small rural town somewhere deep in Alabama. Everyone else had gone back to their hotel room, besides Hotch and I. There was just something about this case I couldn’t get out of my mind. The feeling of being so close to the final piece of the puzzle, as if it were on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t grip it. Yet I had to let it go for the night and get some rest. The much needed REM sleep could give me an entirely new perspective on this problem to me tomorrow. At least that’s what I hoped.

On the walk to the hotel room I was getting increasingly nervous, the more rooms I passed in the hallway. This small hotel did not have enough rooms to accommodate the whole team separately. They only had four rooms for the seven of us. JJ and Emily had immediately paired up, just like Rossi and Morgan. And Hotch being the team leader took the single room. Leaving me with our newest and youngest member, Y/N.

It’s not like I didn’t like her. That’s not what it was at all. Just, she made me a little bit nervous. She was so beautiful that sometimes I couldn’t get out any words around her. And that says a lot because I always have something to say. But as cheesy as it sounds, in some moments there is not a single fact that I can recall. 

But the elephant in the room demands to be heard. She is younger than I am. And that by a lot. By exactly ten years and three months. That appears to be a lot. I don’t really know why, but that bothers me. We are both adults, but because of social conventions at our age, I feel as though it is inappropriate. Yet if I were 60 and she were 50 or I was 80 and she was 70, no one would even blink at the gap. Yet because we are young it matters. I feel sad when I think about it because I like her a lot. And when we talk I don’t notice the age gap. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it wasn’t even there at all.

What surprised me as I was having these thoughts and neared the room was the fact that I actually considered asking her out. Since Maeve I have not been on a single date. And who said she would even be interested in anything beyond a casual friendship or even colleagueship with me? That’s not even considering the amount of courage it would require for me to tell her. But it’s not like that would be a fruitful endeavour.

And that was the last thought I had before I reached the door to room 179. A prime number. Prime numbers would be my lucky numbers if there were such a thing.

As I rummaged around my pockets and satchel for the key card I noticed the sound of music coming through the door.

“Gotta thank him he’s the reason

That I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

I heard a woman sing over the sound of an electric guitar. I still hadn’t found my key card.

“Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me.”

My movements stopped when my brain registered the lyrics. Guys my age…?

“Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good.”

My breath hitched and I gulped, key card in hand. Did she mean that? Could it be possible that she would be interested in someone ten years older than her? The feeling of hope was beginning to form in my brain, scenarios of what could be clouding my vision. But they were quickly pushed aside by a dark storm of self-doubt. Because most people don’t listen to lyrics as closely. The lyrics to a song don’t mean anything to them. Did they mean anything to her?

I realised I had been standing in front of the door for way too long and gathered all my confidence to go inside. But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. After closing the door behind me and tucking away the key card into my bag I turned around for the first time.

There she was. In the middle of the room in front of the two twin beds on a yoga mat. Her front leg was bent as she stretched her back. She was only dressed in skin tight pants and a matching bra that complimented the way her body was contorted. The soft light from the night lamp next to one of the beds made her skin glisten just noticeably as if it were glowing. I could feel my eyes widen as I my brain finally added up the pieces of what I was seeing.

“Oh, hi Spence!” she said gleefully turning her head towards mine, “I was feeling a little tense after sitting in that conference room all day. I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t even bother to attempt to talk, I could feel how dry my throat was and how my lips would not listen to any command I would’ve given it. So I just shook my head and pulled my eyes away from her as she moved her upper body towards the floor, holding herself up by her ellbows. I walked towards the beds in her general direction trying not to notice how gorgeous her ass looked now that her body was turned away from me. That I even had that thought surprised me and caused a blush to rise to my cheeks. I was thankful that she couldn’t see my face in that moment as I loosened up my tie. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, my attention drifted back to the song.

“Don't know how to love me good

So I'm never going back”

There was nothing in that moment that could keep me sane. My wildest dreams could have not come up with this scenario. It felt utterly unreal.

As the song ended I saw her change positions again from my peripheral vision.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said while turning the music down.

I noticed panic begin to fill my brain. She wanted to have a conversation.

“I um- it’s been kind of a long day,” I said and cleared my throat, while deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to turn around towards her.

“Have you been at the station the whole time? You must be exhausted,” she responded and continued when I didn’t answer, “I thought you could show me that show you’ve been gushing about.”

How was this real life? My brain began to lose control of my executive functions as my body turned around to face her. She was now sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, her hands wrapped around her feet as she looked up at me. The low-cut top she was wearing gave me a perfect sight into the curves of her-

I dared not continue that line of thought, already flustered enough as it is.

“Really? You’d be interested in watching that?” I said and blinked.

Her lips spread into a smile, twinkling her eyes, “Yeah, of course. The way you described it makes me really curious.”

“We could watch an episode or two before going to sleep, if you want.”

I just had to take this chance. Even if I could only begin to have a friendship with her, I wanted to be close to her because for some odd reason, I couldn’t bear to admire her from afar.

So not long after, I was setting up the odd hotel room tv to watch the show. It took me the entirety of her taking a shower so that I was only standing back up when she was walking out of the small bathroom in a white bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She smiled up at me as she walked past me, her hand brushing my arm so casually that I questioned whether it actually happened. 

I hesitated again before sitting down on the bed. Was she going to get dressed in front of me? Because no matter how much my amygdala wanted me to see that, my frontal cortex wasn’t going to allow it. I forced myself to look through my satchel in an attempt to find a distraction as I waited for her next move. But luckily, she didn’t tempt my brain too much into overdrive.

I felt as if there was a higher power not willing to spare me for the night when she came out of the bathroom a second time, now something someone might call dressed. She was in a loose light coloured satin pyjama set that showed off her legs perfectly. And as if that were not enough to torture me for the night, she joined me on my twin bed with her bag of chips.

“I hope that’s okay with you, then we can share snacks,” she said so innocently that I almost believed it. But I could still hear the song ringing in my ears and I noticed her eyes take a short glance down at my lips as she said it. I was almost convinced that I wasn’t imagining things.

What really sealed the deal was that I noticed her scoot a tiny bit closer to me every once in a while. At first I could only feel the warmth she radiated, but after about 30 minutes I felt the bare skin of her arm against mine. My breath quickened, which I was sure she had noticed.

I knew the episode off by heart. Which was to my advantage because then my brain could run in a speed that I could barely follow. I tried my hardest to calm down a little bit, which was hard when I could feel the movement of her body as a whole-hearted laugh filled her throat.

“Y/N,” I whispered with all my courage. It was so low that I almost thought she wouldn’t hear it, but she turned her head towards me her eyes following a few seconds after.

Her eyes met mine and it was like I could feel my neurons firing electrical signals throughout my entire body. And just like that, in one swift movement she had grabbed my face by the back of my head and pulled me into her lips.

That was the first time that night that my muscles began to relax as I eased into the sensation of her soft lips moving against mine. It was as though I was beginning to lose myself in the kiss, all insecurities about her feelings towards me or my inexperience gone.

When she ultimately pulled away and rested her forehead against mine, we were both panting gently. My whole body felt warm with the feeling of her breath on my skin and her hands still in my hair. I didn’t dare open my eyes, still afraid that I would wake up from this idyllical dream.

We both didn’t know what to say as we pulled away further and looked at each other. I wanted to say something, to let her know how I felt, but once again, my brain did not follow my commands.

“Did you know when you kiss someone for the first time it causes your dopamine levels to increase for a short period of time? It also makes your heart rate and the oxygen supply to your brain to raise,” I heard my voice say in something between a whisper and my normal talking voice.

“For the first time, huh?” she grinned a little at me.

I reached for her hand and gently took it in mine. I moved her palm over my shirt to the centre of my chest. I could feel my heart race through her hands and I know she could feel it too. She looked up into my eyes again with a look on her face that told me all I needed to know.

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[vinnieswife]

Can you do one where vinnie gets jealous over y/n and then punished her but goes to rough and y/n has to use a safe word and vinnie feels bad afterwards- <3

OOOHHH YES BESTIE😩

Please I want Vinnie to punish me for being a brat😎

Punishment:

Vinnie Hacker x reader

Words: 3982

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink ofc, smut, dom!Vinnie x sub!reader, face fucking, mouth spitting, choking!Kink,rough sex in general.

Another morning at the Hype House, Thomas had decided to have a party with the Sway house, despite the fact that Bryce and he did not get along very well, the situation between the two of them had improved a lot, now they were shaking hands and could have a normal conversation not like before they hit each other.

The party would be at night and in this case it would be at the Sway House not at the Hype House like the last times, Bryce promised to behave and not do anything crazy at the party, Vinnie and you would go together with which you would only take a car ( akka Vinnie's car)

It was still 7 o'clock and the party would be at 8 o'clock with which you started to get ready, you got into the shower while Vinnie was talking with Thomas and Michael about any stupidity of theirs, when you finished you wrapped the towel around your body drying it, Then you put on a set of black lingerie that Vinnie had given you last week, debuting it next to a tight black dress, which perfectly marked the correct places on your body, making the fabric conform to your shape, when you were about to apply mascara on your long lashes Vinnie opened the door.

"Hey Y / n have you seen my- wow" he stared at you in the mirror reflection, his eyes roaming you up and down repeatedly, blinking in amazement.

"Hell, you're Gorgeous, I-I..., god"

You turned around looking at him smiling, "Thanks Vin, you don't look bad either"

He supported you on the bathroom sink, your butt against the marble surface, he placed his arms on either side of you, slowly approaching you, making the difference in height noticeable, Vinnie grabbed your chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"Hey" he says in a whisper.

“Hi” you answer back smiling, his hand flying to your waist.

“What if we skip the party and stay here in my room doing some ... wild activities? Huh? How does that sound love? "

"As much as I enjoy that ... wild activities I actually want to go to that party, I miss my girls"

“Oh cmon you see them another day, please?” He begs hiding his face in the crock of your neck, leaving some kisses there.

“Vin, we are going to be late” you say grabbing his cheeks, pulling him close to leave a soft kiss on his red lips.

“I just do this because I love you” he kisses you back but with more passion.

“I love you too Vin”

You both got into the car, the trip was not very long, about 15 minutes at most, Vinnie's hand was always on your thigh, given gentle caresses and light squeezes, when Vinnie arrived, he parked the car, along with all the expensive cars of the other guests, Vinnie got out first and walked around the car to open the door for you.

"Oh, such a gentleman"

"Only for you madam" you giggle grabbing his arm to hold him close, "are you nervous?" "No whaaatt? Pufff no "

"Oh god, yes you are" "just a little"

"It's all of our friends you don't need to be nervous, everything it's going to be okay, I promise" "okay" "good" he smiles and starts walking with again to the inside of the house.

~time skip 1 hour~

You started to feel really needy, so you go to Vinnie asking him to go to a bathroom and do something, but, to your surprise he said no, you stood there with a surprised face asking him why,he just shrug his shoulders and keep talking with the people around.

When “into it by Chase Atlantic” began to sound, you took Vinnie to the dance floor, bringing him closer to you,he followed you, it started like an innocent dance, everything was perfect, and there your plan was put into motion, when the song reached the chorus you get closer to him a lot more, sliding your hands down his chest, taking them over the fabric that covered his abs, hooking your fingers in his belt, “what do you thing you are doing huh?” He grabs your hands turning you around, to have a beautiful sight of your butt, grabbing your hips hardly he puts your butt against his covered cock, moving his hips a little just to make you more flustered, “Vin pleas-“ “no” you turn around to look at him in the eyes. Then you feel how he looses his touch on you, just walking away, not before giving a good squeeze to your ass, making you moan in his neck.

He goes to talk with Bryce and Noah again, so you just search for Ness,Maddy and Nai (NAILEA MY LOVE)

“Omg hiii Y/n” all of them say to you

“Hey gurrllsss, how are y’all been?”

The girls start to compliment you con lo cual tú también hiciste lo mismo con ellas.

“Hey Y/n that dude on the bar table is staring at you” Ness tells you

“Huh? Who?” “The one with the red shirt”

You looked again noticing how the dude still have his eyes on you, you smile politely at him and he smiles back at you.

Your head starts to think in a way to make Vinnie fuck you senseless or at least to give you a little time of pleasure, you smirk at your idea, Nailea look at you knowing what do you think “Y/n if you do that, you are not going to walk in a week” she says.

“God Nai that’s exactly what I want, but he has just been teasing me all the party” you say with a sigh.

Ness and Maddy hype you up to do it and Nai just start laughing.

You start walking to the guy in the bar table,he smiles at you again, you two start talking a little and you discover his name was Zach, and he was an old Bryce’s friend, you two were talking about likeness when you noticed Vinnie’s gaze on you, giving the dude death looks, he takes his phone and send you a text.

-What do you think you are doing pup?

•Just talking with a friend? Why?

You give him a inocent look and he looks back at you clenching his jaw.

-Don play with fire if you don’t wanna get burn princess.

•Maybe I want to get burn.

You put your phone into your pocket and go back talking with Zach,then you think, -what if I just flirt with him to see Vinnie’s reaction?- so you did it, you start to touch his arm, knowing how Vinnie hates when you do that to someone who it isn’t him. You lean a little to get close to Zach’s ear whispering something when your phone buzz again.

“Oh, I’m sorry give me a sec”

You looked at your texts noticing a message from Vinnie.

-You better stop doing what you are doing pup, or I’m going to make you.

You ignored the text and keep the flirting with the guy, he grabs your waist pulling you closer to him, and you smile at him, feeling Vinnie’s intense look in you, your phone buzz again.

-come here. Now.

-You know what? I’m coming to you.

Then you feel a hand on your waist,grabbing you pulling you close to a toned chest, oh lord,you know you messed this.

“Sorry for the interruption dude but my girlfriend is a little too friendly when she’s drunk, I’m sorry again”

When the dude grabs Vinnie’s wrist “I saw her first dude, don’t play the -she’s my girlfriend- with me”

“Excuse me? Oh god you are going to-“ “hey let’s go home okay? Vin, please” he looks at you, and with that look you know he is mad,really mad, you have been acting like a brat all day, talking back, teasing him, flirting with others to make him jealous.

“Leave us alone, right sweetheart?” The dude asks

“No, he’s my boyfriend and I just use you to make him jealous so, no”

Vinnie grabs your wrist roughly but not to hard to hurt you, he makes signs to Thomas and scream a “we’re leaving” with a smirk on his face.

You both got into te car, the ride was silence until Vinnie puts his hand on your thigh again, you look at him opening your mouth to ask him for forgiveness when he cuts you off “ don’t you dare to try to explain it, I know perfectly what you were doing, and when we get home I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, got it? I’m going to edge you for hours, tide your wrists to the headboard, spank you ‘till you cry, then I’m going to eat you out and overstimulate you ‘till you can’t cum anymore,and even there I will fuck you senseless, because you are going to take everything I will give you, got it?”

“Yes I got it” you say with a whispers

“You got it who?”

“Yes I got it daddy”

“Better”

________________

When you arrived at the Hype House, it was empty since everyone was at the party and because of how they were they would not arrive until dawn, with which Vinnie had all night to make you pay for what you had done, and that was not very pleasant for you. As soon as you enter the door Vinnie guide you to his room, entering it, he blocked the door and hit you against the door,

"If you act like a whore, you'll get treated like one"

He began to kiss you roughly, his kisses descended rapidly towards your neck, marking your hot skin with his lips, from time to time he left a small bite at the base of your neck, descending towards your clavicle, leaving hickeys in the area.

"Jump" he said in your demanding tone.

You obeyed and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands traveled to your butt, giving it a good grip as he kissed you again in a desperate and demanding way, his tongue entered your mouth without warning, dancing with your tongue, at a slow speed, both of your lips red from the intensity of the kiss.

He sat on the edge of the bed, untying his belt, your eyes widened, you stared at the belt. "Come here" you swallowed and approached staying in front of him, he got up from the bed, taking your wrists, wrapping the belt around your wrists in such a way that it was hooked.

He sat back on the bed, motioning for you to get into his lap.

You looked at his hands, and as his rings were still on each finger, you waited a few seconds praying that he would remove the rings, but that moment never came, this time he would leave them on, which would be more painful.

You lay on his legs, your butt between his thighs and your body on the bed.

His hands caressed your butt on the fabric of the dress, he lifted the dress up to your hips, leaving you exposed, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your thong, lowering it, passing it over your legs letting it fall on the floor.

"You act like a brat all night ..."

"I don't act like a brat-" he leaves a hard smack on your ass cheek making you whimper.

"Are you talking back little slut?" He asks in a fake innocent tone.

"No daddy"

"That's what I thought" he start caressing your butt cheeks.

"Count"

And then he laid the first smack into your left cheek "o-one" you let out a whimper. He laids another one into your right cheek, you moan and he leaves another smack "I said count" he said in a rougher tone "Two and three, I'm sorr-" another smack "f-uck, four" at this point tears fall from your eyes, falling into the sheets. The smacks laid on your butt in a fast pace, "cmon baby three more" "th-three?" "Do you want them to be five?" "N-no!" "Then count!" "Thirte-en" the cries leaving your mouth between sobs, "Did that hurt puppy? Good, it's supposed to", "f-four-te-en" you say in a whisper, and the smack "five teen!" You scream because the last one was harder than the others.

The three smacks laid on you butt making you moan and scream at the pain in your butt, Vinnie caress your cheeks covered in his handprints.

"You are such a good slut for me, don't you?" I have smirks caressing your back.

"Stand up" he helps you to get up, his hands grabbing your waist, his hands travel to your back, grabbing the zipper of the dress and tugging it down, he slid the straps of the dress down your shoulders, letting the piece of fabric fell to the ground remaining on your ankles, you stepped outside the fabric, you were completely exposed to it, the only garment that covered your body was your bra.

You whimper in response, he could feel the arousal between you legs, but he never been this helpless to relieve the pressure. You squirmed, your hips bucking in desesperation. Vinnie chuckled, gently brushing the hair out of your face, “that’s what I thought”.

“Please, please...”

“Please?” Vinnie mocked, making you start to sob in frustration.

“You know you have to do better that that”

You gasped “Daddy, put your hands on me.Touch me,or fuck me I don’t care”. Tears run down your face.

“Please just use me”

“Touch me please, I can’t take it anymore...”

Your legs were spread open by Vinnie’s hands, your hands chained to the headboard with his belt.

Vinnie had done anything but tease you, touching your thighs lightly, brushing his hand against your nipples or pinching them.

“And what if I don’t?...”

He softened a bit with the tears.

“Good” he murmured, positioning himself between your legs.

At the simple touch of his hand on your heat, your entire body convulsed with pleasure. Vinnie smirked “Now, that wasn’t to difficult, was it?”

The moment when you were about to cum. Your eyes roll back , your shoulder pushed off of the bed as you tremble and shiver in Vinnie’s arms. A high pitched whine resounding in the room before you started mumbling and begging for Vinnie to touch you again. And he just smirks, the thrusts with his fingers stopped as he smiles devilishly and kisses you.

“Dad-ddy please, more” you mumble pulling the belt.

“What baby? You want more? You are begging for me so well. But are not allowed to come,not now. You can cum only when I say it okay baby?” He said with a fake caring tone.

He grabbed you by the hips, getting you out of bed, placing you on his lap, his hand slowly lowered over your abdomen, his fingers brushing your hips, he put his hand in your pussy,cupping it, his fingers quickly found your clit, playing with it lightly, just making pressure, making you moan with pleasure, then he start fingering you while you are sitting on his lap, you started feeling so embarrassed, you just hide your face in the crook of Vinnie's neck. He eventually grabs your jaw roughly and he makes you look at him, telling you to hold eye contact or else you won't get to cum "open your eyes and look at me whore"

His fingers start pumping in a fast pace making your head fall backwards,you bite your lip to not make a sound, he curls his fingers to reach that spot inside of you.

"Stay nice and quiet, if I hear a moan slip I'll fuck your throat raw, understood?"

The pace goes faster again, you try so hard to contain your moans and whimpers,little tears running down your face, he brings up his hand cleaning and drying your cheeks with his thumb,"oh cmon slut you can moan now"

You let out loud moans as your walls clench around Vinnie's fingers,he grabs your throat kissing you roughly while you moan in his mouth, this one is your first orgasm because Vinnie denied all the ones before,then he pulls you close to whisper in your ear "shut up and take it princess, do it for daddy" you nod your head biting your lip again, has he goes rougher, leaving kisses and more hickeys on your neck, you try harder to be quiet until you can't take it and you moan his name and cum all over his fingers.

He starts laughing at how pathetic you are, groaning in your ear "good fucking girl" he grabs you putting you into the bed laying on your back, he kisses your lips, biting harder at your lower lip making you moan, his kisses traveled down again, leaving more hikers on your breasts and abdomen, his lips leaving ghost touches on your skin.

His mouth reach your hips making they way down to your clit, he starts playing with the little bud, kissing it softly before biting it, making you scream in pleasure.

"Oh god Daddy please" you whimper.

His tongue start moving in a fast pace between your folds, playing around your hole, his tongue moving in and out at a torturing slowly pace, his tongue giving your hole little strokes, he goes up again at your clit, sucking on it harshly.

You started to feel the tight sensation in your stomach, getting more closer to your release Vinnie's tongue doesn't slow down for a second, in fact it just speed up 'till you cum all over his mouth and chin, you expect him to stop,but he shoves his fingers into your hole and attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking on it harshly, making you scream again, "Thank me" he growls, pushing his fingers further into your hole. "Thank me for the orgasm I just let you have" you moan loudly, shaking with the force of Vinnie's fingers moving in and out. "Fuck, tha-ank you"

Vinnie smirks at you and you cry out as you feel his fingers twist and his tongue drops down to play with your clit in slow motions.

It was so much pleasure for you to handle, you start to move back from Vinnie's mouth, just to hear a groan from his throat and to feel his hands grabbing your thighs harder to pull your pussy closer to him. "No,no,no. Get back here I'm not done with you "

He goes back at pumping his fingers inside of you all the overstimulation making your chest raise up and down at a erratic pace, your orgasm start to build up again, your moans loud and your hand gripping at the sheets, your third orgasm explodes, "Aww, look the poor thing accidentally came" this time Vinnie stops, cleaning your mess with his tongue, lapping every drop of your cum.

"You taste fantastic slut, now get on your knees"

You make up from the bed, your legs feeling numb for the hard orgasms, you gent on your knees, your hands moving to take off his trousers, sliding them down to his ankles, then your hands reach his underwear, caressing him through the fabric of his boxers. "Take them off" you slide them down his ankles too, his cock already hard pressing against his lower abdomen, leaking with pre-cum, you grab it with your hand, liking the pre-cum in his tip, making him groan in pleasure, you take him in your mouth, but Vinnie has other plans for you, he grabs your hair pushing himself deeper into your throat making you gag, he start at a fast pace, making you gag every-time he hits the back you your throat, you separated from his cock, breathing hard, "vinnie" you said with a ragged breath, he put his cock back in your mouth, "shut up and take it" he proceeds to fuck your mouth again. "Aah just like that, taking all my cock like the slut you are" he groans, tears start running down your face, Vinnie grabs your hair tightly making you moan against his cock, you allow your cheeks to make force on his cock, "aah shit, I'm going to cum" his seed explodes in your mouth, you swallowed all of it, some of his cum falls to your chin so you grab it with your finger pulling it back in your mouth.

"Get up" he grabs your hand to help you to stand up, he makes his way with you to the bed, again, he grabs you and puts you into the bed, laying on your back, he approaches you, positioning himself on top of you, he doesn't waist time, pulling his cock inside of you, you moan, again tears running down your face for the overstimulation you where receiving, Vinnie's strokes are deep and hard, making your head spin, the line between pain and pleasure was invisible now, the pain in your legs was more than the pleasure, you try to push Vinnie out of you, but he grabs your wrists pinning them to the bed, "V-Vinnie..."

He just moans in you neck, 'till you start moving to much, you want him to stop, you need him to stop, so you just scream it.

"Book!, Vinnie book!"

He stops instantly, pulling out of you,grabbing your face, strolling your cheeks. "Oh lord Y/n I'm so sorry, I shouldn't push you that far, I'm so sorry love"

"It's okay, I say it because I don't feel pleasure anymore"

"Shh, love you don't have to say sorry, if you ever want me to stop just say it and I will stop"

"Cmon let's get cleaned okay?" You hummed a “Mhm” agains his shoulder "I'm so sorry baby" he whispers against your hair.

He gets up, leaving you in bed,the puts the sheets over your body, he puts his boxers, and walk to the bathroom, the las time you heard was the water running into the bathtub.

While you where sleeping in the bed Vinnie prepares a bath, with warm water to help your sore body, some slow music,a red bathbomb making the water look red, a couple of candles on the sink and bubbles, a lot of bubbles.

He makes sure everything was perfect for you, the goes to the dorm again, caressing you cheek waking you up. "Hey love" "Hey" you say in a sleepy tone, "let's get you cleaned up, how does that sound?"

"Mhmm perfect" he kiss your forehead and carry you in bridal style to the bath tub, both of you get inside the warm water, Vinnie grabs a sponge and puts some soap in it, massaging your shoulders and washing your arms, chest and back, when he finish he cleans the soap with water, giving little kisses on your shoulders and nape. "I'm so sorry..." he mumbles against your back "I'm truly sorry, I would never hurt you in that way, and I'm sorry that a make you say the safe word" "Vin I promise that it's okay, when I say the word you stopped and help me, you take care of me and give me all your attention, I promise that it's okay" you smile at him, leaning back on his chest,moving head to look at him,he looks back at you making eye contact, "I love you so much Y/n" "I love you too Vin" he leans down and give you a little kiss on your forehead, another on your left cheek and the last one on your lips,that one a little longer than the others.

DONT REBLOG MY WORK! ILL COME FOR YOU

[redorich]

Eventually the Hermits get their hands on the one shulker box. They give it back a day later, filled with goodies as an apology for stealing, because they just needed it briefly so Doc could set up a shulker box duplicator.

(2/2) To expand on the shulker box ask I sent: It's cheating. They know it's cheating. They debate for a while over wether or not they should build it. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and dammit they need shulkers. Mules and Llamas can only get them so far.

---

(this takes place before the fic where puffy finds zedaph.)

---

The Hermits put up with mule highways and caravans of spitting llamas because they think they have no choice. At least one person complains about the lack of sophisticated storage transportation daily. Mumbo tries to create a system which will ferry items between bases, but it turns out to be more of a Rube Goldberg machine than anything, considering the items only travel at the speed of the water which carries them. Zedaph creates an actual Rube Goldberg machine for item transportation, but the only people who use it are himself and his neighbors, Impulse, False, and Tango. It’s more for prank transportation and snail mail anyway.

Things change when Stress, on a covert surface run, comes a bit too close to other humans on accident and catches sight of a blond man in a hoodie furtively checking his surroundings. Stress immediately does as she’s been trained, hiding herself behind tree cover and checking how long her invisibility potion will be in effect for. It says four minutes. As long as he leaves soon, she won’t have an issue.

The man surveys the muddy clearing with a keen eye, keeping watch for any evildoing interlopers. He places down an Ender chest, reaches his hands into it, then looks around once again to make sure no one’s there. Stress’s heart beats like a drum-- not the style of drums she usually plays, but rather the percussion of one of Xisuma’s favorite black metal bands. As the man’s gaze passes right over her, she feels the machine gun fire of her heart against her chest peak, breath catching in her throat.

He doesn’t see her. Quickly, he pulls something out of the Ender chest. A shulker box!

Stress’s breath stops for an entirely different reason. The things the Hermits could do with even one shulker box..! Item dupers are a thing, right? If anyone knows how to make an item duplication machine, it would be Doc. And a shulker box might be useful for an item duping machine! 

She’s getting ahead of herself. Should she steal from this person? Can she steal from this person? Even disregarding the moral dilemma, the members of the Dream SMP are fighters through and through. She’s got the advantage of surprise because she’s invisible and this man doesn’t know she’s here, but how long will that last? Even if she manages to take it, what if the blond man (Punz, she thinks is his name) kills her and takes the shulker box back from her?

As Stress weighs the risks and the rewards, she knows she’s running out of time. Punz breaks the shulker box. Right as he’s about to put it back in his Ender chest, Stress, who can see the window of opportunity closing, springs into panicked action.

She sprints right past Punz, hoping with every fiber of her being that her invisibility potion will be enough to save her. Snatching the box right out of Punz’s hands, Stress takes off running. Punz shouts, swinging his sword wildly at the air. He’s so close that a few strands of hair, just barely the tips, get sheared off of Stress’s fluffy mane and become visible as they flutter to the ground.

Punz’s eyes narrow, tracking the potion particles that he can just barely see. Unfortunately for him, the invisible thief takes off into the mob-infested forest. He gives chase, but the thief gains on him every time he has to stop to fight a mob.

Stress knows she can’t outrun Punz. She’s not bad, but he’s really good. Stress absolutely cannot lead this man back to the canyon. Allowing the hostile mobs of the forest to buy her time by slowing Punz down, Stress looks around rapidly, searching for something, anything she can do to lose the hunter on her trail.

A lone cow catches her eye. Thinking fast, she bites her lip as she dumps her only water bucket out into a nearby pond where it won’t be noticed, then milks the cow. In the distance, a zombie groans as Punz takes it out. Stress hyperventilates, frantically digging at the ground beneath her feet with a silk touch shovel. Once she’s created a hole just barely big enough for her to hide in, she hops in and puts the grassy dirt she dug up just seconds ago above her head and immediately downs the milk, so that there won’t be any potion particles to track her by.

Slowly, carefully, and as quiet as she possibly can, she digs up the dirt beneath her feet in absolute darkness. Logically, Stress knows that Punz won’t be able to see the light from her torch, but she’s too terrified to think logically. What has she done?!

Her shovel stills as angry feet stomp above her. Dirt crumbles into her hair when Punz walks directly above her. Caustic mutters faintly reach her ears through the loamy earth, fading farther and farther away as Punz searches in vain for the invisible thief. Stress waits with bated breath for minutes on end, hands shaking like leaves in a hurricane. 

Tentatively, she digs up the diorite block below her with a pickaxe. A mob shifts aboveground and Stress, paralyzed with the paranoia that it might be Punz, spends another five minutes in immobile silence. Burying her face in her hands, she sucks in a breath and continues digging. Once she hits a decently low y-level, she digs forward, taking care to place all her blocks behind her exactly as they were before she mined them.

After a solid three hundred blocks, she begins to staircase back up. On one unfortunate swing of her pick, water floods into her staircase. She must be under a lake or a sea. She can make out some kelp, though, so hopefully that’ll be enough cover for her to go up and check her surroundings.

Stress takes a deep breath and plunges into the cold water. Swimming up, she catches sight of wood-- no way. There is no way she’s made it to the docks just outside of the canyon. Eagerly, she swims back down into her staircase for a breath of air and the chance to down an invisibility potion, then back up to the surface.

On the entire journey from the bottom of the sea to the elevator on the other side of the canyon, she expects someone to catch her, to notice the water she’s dripping on the ground, to somehow sense the guilt emanating off her in waves. It doesn’t happen. Stress makes it to the elevator and pushes the down button eagerly. Every foot the elevator descends down is another thousand pounds of weight off her shoulders. She’s exhausted, and so close to home base. If she can just make it into the Atrium, she’ll have succeeded.

The elevator dings, rousing Stress from her daydreaming. “I really am dead on my feet, ain’t I?” she murmurs to herself.

She makes her way into one of the village houses, avoiding the pressure plates and tripwires which she knows like the back of her hand by now. In the house, she presses a button, which opens a door which leads to a tunnel. Sagging in relief, Stress practically melts across the floor as she traverses the short tunnel and finally makes it into Atrium 1-- a large circular room with a rounded ceiling and plenty of light.

“Woah, Stress!” Ren exclaims, running to support her. The dark circles under his eyes make him look as exhausted as she feels. He’s been working round the clock at the tree farm to churn out enough wood to meet the demands of twenty-four Hermits.

“Stress?” Ren asks with concern in his eyes, gently shaking Stress’s shoulders.

She laughs, high-pitched and wild. She’s done it. She’s really gone and done it!

“I got a shulker box,” she breathes.

Ren gasps. “What?! No way, they’re not even a thing on this server!”

“Yes they are,” Stress sing-songs, “because I have one.”

She tosses him the cyan shulker box with a look of pride on her face. Ren looks at the box in his hands, then back up at Stress with wide eyes.

“We gotta go show Xisuma, my dude.”

---

The Hermits convene in the small meeting room in the residential district, then realize that the room is in fact small and twenty-four Hermits aren’t going to fit in it. Xisuma’s having a good day, so he decides to hold the meeting in Atrium 1.

There are many different opinions on the acquisition of the shulker box, which sits innocently in the center of the room. Some people like Wels believe that even if it’s a great boon, it was stolen and therefore the Hermits don’t have the right to use it. Things were different when they first arrived in the canyon; they stole small things in order to survive. A shulker is nice to have, but the Hermits won’t die without it. On the other hand, there are people who side with Grian, who believes that since the Hermits already have the shulker box, they might as well use it.

Doc rumbles a deep hm, indicating that he’s debating with himself whether he should say something or not. Finally, it seems that the side of him which wants to tell his fellow Hermits wins out.

“Have you guys considered shulker box duping?” he says. Immediately, there is a clamor of outcries, both for and against, as well as just plain disbelieving.

Tango speaks up: absolutely not. It’s cheating. False tentatively rebuts, though, that sometimes cheating is acceptable when it's for a good cause. After all, part of her season 7 base was dug out using TNT dupers. Mumbo awkwardly raises his hand and waits for someone to acknowledge him, which Grian does.

“Er… what if we give it back after we’re done with it?” Mumbo says. Tango still looks unhappy, but the idea seems to appease Wels.

“Friends,” Xisuma says softly. Everyone quiets down immediately. “Should we have a civil vote, or shall I decide?”

Immediately, everyone gets shamed into behaving. “We can vote,” Bdubs says. “Everyone in favor of not cheating?”

“Wait, what are our options?” Grian asks.

“Er,” Scar speaks up. “Keeping the box but not duping it, giving the box back, duping it then giving it back, or duping it and not giving the original back. Is that right?”

Bdubs nods. “Yeah! So, all in favor of keeping the one original box?” A few hands go up, maybe five or six.

“Giving the box back?” More hands go up.

“Duplicating the box, then giving it back?” Nearly a dozen hands go up.

“Well then,” Bdubs says, “I guess I don’t have to finish the options; dupe-and-return wins.”

Doc strides into the center of the room and mines up the shulker box before anyone can change their mind; Tango grumbles good-naturedly at having lost the vote. Meanwhile, while everyone discusses the vote, Joe ferries Xisuma off to his quarters.

“So who’s going to give the shulker box back when we’re done with it, my dudes?” Ren asks the room at large.

“I will,” Stress says immediately. “I stole it; it’s only right that I give it back.”

---

Two days later, Punz wakes up to a noise in his house. He reaches for a knife under his pillow; just because there is no one to be seen doesn’t mean that no one’s there, as Punz is well aware given the theft of his shulker box, which he is still smarting over.

He gets out of bed, treading softly. Right there, in the doorway, is the same shulker box he lost! He looks around. This has to be a trap. No one is around… Punz might as well spring this trap.

He opens the box. Nothing is missing. In fact, there are more items inside than there were when it was stolen from him! A totem of undying, four diamond blocks, two ingots of netherite, and a note which reads, Sorry I stole your box! I only needed to borrow it, but I felt bad so I left some extra goodies in. xoxo

“...Huh?” Punz says to himself. This is the weirdest prank ever.

He puts the box back into his Ender chest and resolves to think about it in the morning.

[peachtree-dish]

A Te Che Sei Il Mio Amore Grande

I'm writing fanfics again. Woot!

Inspired by the song of the same name.

Chapter One: Quando Ti Guardo

June 06, 1969

Luca drummed his fingers restlessly along the soft velvet of his armrest, his eyes switched from peering out at the Italian coastal terrain and once again reading the watch that rested against his wrist.

“You’re doing it again.”

His eyes snapped up to watch as Giulia sighed at him from behind the thick leather-bound novel in her hands. As her amused yet exasperated gaze landed on him, he grinned sheepishly.

“Mi dispiace, Giulia. I honestly don’t remember the ride being this long.” He checked his watch again and grimaced. “Has it really only been ten minutes?”

Admitting defeat, the red-headed girl marked her place and set the book aside. “Luca, it’s been nine months, si? But what is the one thing we’ve learned about time from Segnora Rosa?” She quirked a knowing brow at him as Luca slumped forward.

“Time is always constant, lo so.” He mumbled.

“Esattamente, therefore,” She continued as she picked up her book with renewed gusto, “the train will take exactly an hour every single time we travel to and from Porto Rosso.” With her argument settled, Giulia returned to her page and began reading once more. After a moment of stillness, she peered at him subtly from above her page. Luca was looking outside once more, his eyes filled with a mixture of yearning, and his mouth twisted in anxiety. With a kinder expression, she said, “If it’s any consolation, amico mio, I’m sure he’s just as nervous to see you.”

Luca puffed out his cheeks but didn’t reply, instead preferring to peer down at his clasped hands.

“Maybe you could finish the bracelets you’ve been working on, that will help you pass the time better and maybe keep your mind off things, eh?” She nodded to his school jacket pocket which held a mass of multicolored strings that had yet to be organized. Perking up at the thought, Luca agreed and set to work on detangling the threads from one another.

Outside the bright light of the morning sun blazed peacefully across the pristine indigo coastline and followed the two youths on the journey. Some miles away, a small town was anything but peaceful.

“Massimo!” A young man jumped up the paved stairways of Porto Rosso, disturbing the half-dozen pigeons resting there. At their indignant coos and squawks, Alberto quickly glanced back with a slight shout of “sorry!” before continuing on his rampage towards the Marcovaldo residence. Skidding to a stop once he passed the archway, he leaned heavily against the tree that he and Luca had slept in nearly a year ago prior and gasped.

With a large crash, both Massimo and Machiavelli burst through the front door looking frazzled and ready for a fight. The latter was fully puffed up with his claws digging into the cobblestone walkway and his pupils shrunken to small slits. Massimo swiveled his head around looking for whatever danger could have provoked Alberto’s shout, his shoulders hunched and his good arm gripping his harpoon tightly. However, when no danger presented itself, he glared half-heartedly through his eyebrows at the young sea monster who sheepishly grinned.

“Well, where’s the fuoco, eh?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Massimo, everything’s fine. But!” He pointed animatedly at the large man, “you are aware of what day it is, right? We only have a few hours until-”

“Until Giulia and Luca arrive, si piccolo, lo so. You’ve only been talking about it for a month now.” Shouldering his harpoon and popping his neck, the old fisherman turned to enter the house, an unhappy Machiavelli climbing onto his open shoulder, but not before growling irritably at Alberto.

“Come have breakfast, Alberto, we’ll see what we can do to keep busy while we wait.” The large man patted Alberto’s sun-kissed shoulder before entering the house. Slumping in resignation, the teen followed behind Massimo but not before stretching to give one last searching look at the expansive cliffs that breached the horizon, hopeful to see a plume of smoke.

**************

When the train finally pulled into the stazione, Luca was already flinging the train door open and running into the waiting arms of his mother who squealed with delight and refused to set him down for several long moments, much to Luca’s embarrassment and secret delight. An equally excited Giulia was soon to follow, and she said a quick hello to the Paguro’s before launching into Massimo’s open arms. While his father patted him on the head and asked the generic questions of wellbeing, Luca tried to glance around his parents. If Massimo was here, then so was-

“I told you I’d be okay.” Luca’s heart thudded painfully in his chest for one moment as Alberto sauntered into view. Prying himself from his mother, the young sea monster swiftly walked to Alberto and embraced him without pause. Luca buried his face into the crook of Alberto’s neck and breathed him in for the first time in nine months.

Whatever nerves and fear Alberto had been holding released him the moment his best friend enveloped him in his arms. Luca had grown slightly taller over the colder months and his skin had lost its sun-kissed pigmentation, but the warmth in his eyes had not faded in the slightest.

“Welcome home, Luca,” Alberto mumbled into his friend's hair, ignoring the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes, he pulled away with a chuckle. “Are we going to do this every time we say ciao?” Luca smiled wetly and scrubbed weakly at his face.

“I think I could get used to it if it’s with you.” Alberto resolutely decided to ignore the heat that gathered in his cheeks as Luca turned to answer Massimo. Brushing it off as too much time in the sun, he tuned into the conversation just as the gentle fisherman began speaking of their new fishing truck.

“Grazie to Alberto’s ‘knowing fish’, we earned enough for me to invest in an auto,” Massimo stated proudly, clasping a large hand onto Alberto’s shoulder. The teen modestly scratched under his hat and shrugged, turning to Giulia and Luca.

“He’s really only saying that. Massimo did all the hard work; I just stuck my head underwater a few times every day to navigate us. But!” Alberto waved towards the station entrance and began pulling Luca by the hand. “you really have to see the truck I’ve been writing to you about.”

The truck itself was what could hardly be described as new. The front bumper was barely hanging on and rusted completely through on the right side. Green chipped paint covered the doors and Luca noted with a swell of warmth the black hand-painted logo of “Massimo and Alberto Fishing co.” Most people would consider the truck like garbage, but Alberto found the faded paint and broken glass charming, and he said as much to the group. Giulia rubbed suspiciously at the truck’s tailgate, her eyes squinting as she studied it.

“The Americans call it a ‘Hudson pickup’,” Massimo announces proudly, his pronunciation heavily accented.

“I’m still not sold on it being actually safe, but I’ll admit it wasn’t too bad the first time Massimo drove it.” Daniela opined, opening the front door with a loud squeal.

“Yeah, not so much when Alberto decided to try it,” Lorenzo muttered good-naturedly. “My tail still won’t swim straight.”

“You drove the truck?!”

“You crashed the truck?!”

Giulia and Luca exclaimed, she glanced curiously at her papa who raised his hands innocently. Luca began looking at Alberto’s arms and skin, scouring for any injuries, completely ignoring the rest of the conversation.

“He’ll be sixteen this year, mia figlia, he’ll need at least a year of practice. Nessun problema, your time will come soon.”

“Oh, come on,” Alberto kindly pulled Luca’s hands away and hopped on the rear end beaming down at his family, “it wasn’t so bad for the first time. Plus, she just needs some love and she’ll be right as rain. You guys just can’t see her potential.” He patted the chipped paint fondly. “Not to mention this makes delivery way faster.” Massimo chuckled as Lorenzo continued to grumble and Daniela merely rolled her eyes.

“Si, and speaking of quick deliveries, let’s go home and eat lunch, hm?” Massimo lifted Luca and Giulia's luggage into the bed of the truck while the rest of the family, the Paguro and Marcovaldo families together again at last.

As the truck rattled through the colorful fishing port threatening to fall apart, Giulia and Luca rattled story after story to Alberto and Luca’s parents. Alberto tried to ignore the feelings of jealousy at the way his friends appeared to be so in tune. He laughed politely at their inside jokes and did his best to understand half the jargon they spouted, but in reality, he felt more lost than ever before. Stuffing the uncomfortable feelings down as far they’d go, Alberto helped the Paguro’s down first so that Daniela could help with preparing the food alongside Massimo. While Lorenzo had shown an interest in learning the human ways of cooking, he hadn’t quite managed to pull it off as well.

“You set the curtains on fire one time, and they never let you set foot in the kitchen again,” Lorenzo complained to the kids as he followed his wife.

“Except it wasn’t just the curtains,” Alberto whispered loudly to his best friends who giggled unapologetically.

“ONE TIME!” Lorenzo called hotly from inside.

Giulia smirked at her friends, “Some things never change, amicos.” Grabbing her bag, she turned to the house, “Oh, and Luca don’t forget about your gift!” She winked knowingly at a flustered Luca and befuddled Alberto.

Alberto glanced down at Luca who was doing his best impression of a frozen fish.

“Uh, was that supposed to me-”

“I made you something!!” Luca blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth. He glanced nervously at Alberto, who merely stared back stunned. Fishing in his uniform jacket pocket, Luca wordlessly pulled out the two multicolored bracelets from his pocket and held one out to Alberto. Alberto stood frozen his eyes glued to the green and purple threads glistening in the warm afternoon sun, his mouth hung loose in a silent ‘oh’. The threads danced innocently between them, and Luca felt his bravado begin to waver. When he still hadn’t said anything or moved to take the bracelet from Luca’s grasp, the younger boy grew more flustered and started to pull away, his voice shaking. “I- I’m sorry, you probably think this is so stupid.” Luca tried to not panic, desperately willing his mortification away.

Alberto’s hand shot out to pull both the bracelet and Luca’s hand back. “I can’t believe you made this for me.” He whispered, cradling the bracelet tenderly as he studied it in his palms. He traced the twining threads and smiled at how the pattern reminded him of scales. He looked at Luca and put his arm around him to pull him close. “I love it, thank you. No one’s ever given me something so beautiful.”

“R-really?” Luca asked, his expression hopeful.

“Really. Did you make this too?” Alberto squinted at the painted pearl hanging from the end of the strings, creating a clasp to hold it in place.

“Giulia's mom actually helped me design those with her paints.” Luca motioned to the pearl. “She said that gifts help make the distances feel smaller.” He pondered the delicately painted waves of his own pearl. “It’s funny when I was learning so much and seeing so many places, I never realized how far from home I would feel.” His gaze landed on Alberto, only now realizing how close they were. Up close he could see the new freckles that peppered his cheeks and how his face was slimming down. Nine months of hard work had broadened his shoulders and caused his wiry arms to harden with lean muscle. Clearing his throat, he pulled away again.

“Anyways, I guess we better go inside before the food gets cold.” Blushing as red as Massimo’s favorite wine, Luca threw one last smile over his shoulder and ran inside. Alberto grinned in response and slid the bracelet over his wrist fastening it so that it hugged him snugly. An emotion that he couldn’t quite name filled every part of him, spreading from his toes to the tip of his ears. Walking inside to the smells of homemade pasta and loud laughter, Alberto felt that the promise of a wonderful summer had just begun.

[tainted-wine]

Caring For Your Hormonally-Charged Bird

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

(I didn’t mean for this to turn into a monster with over 7k words, but I finally finished it. This is based off of my mutant headcanons and also takes some inspiration from user kazooli’s awesome thirst posts about Hawks. Happy Springtime, everyone!)

Edit: Now there’s a Part 2!

------------------------------

The songs of lovestruck birds rang across the streets. Freshly bloomed cherry blossoms rained petals down onto the pavement. Butterflies and bees hovered around the flourishing flowers. It was undoubtedly a beautiful day. Too bad you had to spend it in an office with an oncoming headache. A familiar voice spoke behind you.

“Wow, look at that. I don’t know what’s more gorgeous; the scenery outside or the lady staring at it.”

Hawks’s charm doesn’t affect you when he has pissed you off so many times in such a short span.

You’ve had the ‘privilege’ of working for the Hero Public Safety Commission for several years, from supporting public events to endless desk work. The pay was generous and life was overall more comfortable. All you had to do to stay on their good side was comply with every demand, ignore the condescending tones of the bigwigs, and turn a blind eye whenever you witnessed the occasional sketchy practice.

When they offered you a job as the personal handler of one of the top heroes of Japan, you almost fainted. You have always been a fan of Hawks. Fast, handsome, charismatic, he may not have the godly strength of All Might, yet he still felt just as flawless. You’ve been helping and guiding the winged young man since last summer and learned that he’s even more than what you imagined. He wasn’t just good-looking, he wasn’t just a sweet-talker…

He was also a fucking nightmare to work with.

You turned around to see said man ogling you a bit more than you were used to, his trademark crooked smile on his face, but you ignored that and went straight to business. “Your carelessness is trending again for the third time this week, Hawks.”

He drew a sharp breath in an exaggerated gasp. “Again? Oh, what could they possibly be on my ass for this time? Was I smacking on chicken wings too loudly in public? Did they catch the moment I almost flew into that crystal-clear window?”

You whipped out your phone, already prepared to show him a news page with a rather shocking photo. A man with an elegant and sleek appearance was beaten and bruised, his dazzling peacock tail fanned out behind him. The attacker was none other than Hawks, who was gripping the other man by the collar, his wings fully spread out with several sharpened feathers floating around his victim as an unnecessary precaution. It was a very aggressive display.

‘HAWKS LAYS SMACKDOWN ON PERVERTED PEACOCK’ was the headline.

“This is beyond excessive force. You could have just as easily restrained him with your quirk.” You scolded, fixing him with the steely authoritarian stare that you’ve been working on.

Hawks flinched, but you couldn’t tell if he was just playing with you or not. “Ma’am! I was simply defending the girl’s honor! She was very clearly uncomfortable and besides, wouldn’t flashing his tail like that be considered indecent exposure?” Yeah, that tone told you that he was clearly not intimidated.

“No, and even if it did, indecency and harassment wouldn’t excuse such a violent subduing. Furthermore,” you gestured at his threatening wing display in the photo. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were demonstrating similar behavior.”

He simply shrugged. “Just showing him who the bigger bird is around here.”

Your eye twitched. “For God’s sake, Hawks, you’re not an animal. Part of my job is ensuring that you maintain a friendly image that will keep the public at ease. This is not friendly. Shall I go through some of the comments for examples?” You scrolled down and cleared your throat in preparation. “Anyone else put off by how violent Hawks looks here? I didn’t know he had it in him to beat someone down like that. He’s usually all about being quick and efficient.” You scrolled down to the next one. “What’s the deal with Hawks? I was there and it was like watching a cockfight.” You clicked on a reply to that particular comment. “I know, right? I always wanted to meet Hawks in person, but after that, I was honestly too scared to-”

“Hold on, babe, I know you’re cherry-picking here,” Hawks, the little bastard, had taken out his own phone while listening to your reading. “Because those are nothing like my personal faves that I found on my Tweeter page.” You watched with silent frustration as his eyes scanned his phone until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here we go. ‘Oh my GAWD, that look, those spread wings, he looks like such a beast!” He had raised the pitch of his voice for a mock feminine tone. “Leave it to Hawks to make all of us women feel safe. That pervert deserves to lose a few more teeth.’ Oh, and here’s the winner right here. ‘Just as I always expected, that hunk of a bird knows how to dominate. I can just imagine him towering over me, giving that same look while I take his big fat-”

“Hawks.”

He paused, but his shit-eating grin didn’t fade when he noticed your head being held in one of your hands. You hoped he didn’t notice that you were trying to hide the red that crept into your cheeks.

“…cock.”

You groaned loudly enough to most definitely be heard outside of the office. There truly were days when he would cut you some slack and be easy to deal with, but he has become downright unbearable for the past few weeks. His teasing has increased ten fold, yet he’s also been keeping his distance from you for whatever reason. It had taken you a while to notice, but he was normally more than happy to get in your face and ruin your professional act, but now, even when you’re the one trying to approach, he would casually step back to prevent the gap between you from closing.

And then it hit you.

Shit, it shouldn’t have taken you this long to connect the dots. You had even noticed how his wings appeared to be a shade brighter for the past few days, but dismissed it as a trick of the light. No, he had grown in his spring plumage.

“Uh, babe? You still there? Did the ‘C’ word break you?” Watching you stare into space was getting him a little concerned.

“You’re rutting,” was your simple reply.

Hawks’s face flashed into something more serious for a split second before giving a ‘tsk’ and looking away. “Took you long enough,” he scoffed. “Surprised the Commission hasn’t fired you for letting me go wild for so long. They must not have any replacements available right now.”

“Watch it,” you ordered. You pondered for a moment before asking, “Have you not been taking your hormonal medication? I know that you’ve been prescribed some for this time of year.”

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, as if he was the one who should be feeling annoyed right now. Bitch, please. “Sometimes,” he muttered.

“Sometimes? They don’t work if you only take them sometimes, Hawks. I know you’re a busy hero, but you can put some effort into keeping track of your dosage.”

“Look,” it was the first time you’ve seen a genuine scowl on his face, the expression taking you back. “I just really hate that stuff, okay? They sap all of my energy and I put on a few extra pounds.”

You shook your head at his complaints. “Is that really worse than what you’re dealing with right now?”

“Yes. I’d rather be a horndog than a slug that doesn’t even have the will to move. It wouldn’t even be so bad if I could just sleep around every now and then, but that’s more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t wanna make your job that miserable.” He eyed you up and down for a minute, while you tried not to shy away from his piercing gaze. “Or I could find just one loyal partner that will help me scratch the itch?”

You stepped back, your heart racing at the unspoken request. “E-excuse me?” you stuttered.

Hawks raised his hands harmlessly. “Hey now, it’s just a suggestion. I’m pretty into you, you’re obviously into me, this could work out pretty well.”

An array of emotions were flowing through you, but you were more upset than anything else. “And what exactly makes you think I’ve been ‘into you’, as you’ve said?” Denial. You’re pretty sure that’s what this is. You know that you’ve been attracted to him since before you even met, but you weren’t going to let this overgrown brat have his way.

His sudden burst of laughter startled you. “You’re kidding, right? I still remember that look you had the first time we were in this room together, and it wasn’t the innocent ‘I wanna support my favorite hero’ look,” He was willingly approaching you for the first time in what felt like forever, every step sounding like thunder to your ears. “It was a ‘bend me over the desk and fuck me’ look.”

You were the one stepping back this time. You wanted to remind him not to use such foul language, to berate him for making such vulgar claims, but your voice was caught in your throat.

“We’d be doing each other a favor, right?” he continued, wings slowly expanding. “Keeping me in top shape is part of your job, isn’t it? I promise you that I’m gonna feel a lot better after this.”

You bumped into his desk, leaning back slightly as he finally closed the distance. His wings draped around each side of you, filling your peripheral vision with pure red. His face was only inches away from yours as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“You’ve been smelling so damn good lately. Been afraid that I just might pounce you if I get too close.”

A thickly gloved hand reached out and cupped your face with such a surprising amount of tenderness, you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel bare. You were so entranced by his lustful gaze that you couldn’t find it in you to resist as he leaned in, feeling his hot breath as his lips drew closer to yours.

The door busted open accompanied by a shout. “Hawks sir! Your help has been requested at-OH!”

A genuine growl rumbles through Hawks’s throat and damn, that makes you tremble. By the time he turns toward the stumbling sidekick, he was already back to his cool and friendly self.

“Don’t stop on my account, buddy,” he beamed the younger man with an unwavering smile. “What’s the request?”

———

The next day, you tried very hard to pretend that little office incident never happened. You were not going to let something so unprofessional ever happen again. That was a promise.

Hawks, on the other hand, was being a persistent bastard. You were determined to win this battle. If he wanted the urges to go away so badly, then he can take his damn medication like he always has, not use your lack of authority and experience as an excuse to rebel. The only reason you haven’t informed the Commission about this is because you know that your head will be on the chopping block as well as Hawks’s. You will most definitely be in some shit once they realize that you can’t keep their most prized possession in check.

And to be fair, as the week went on, you really were wondering if you were cut out for this job. With his wings getting more vibrant, his advances becoming more frequent, and his feral rivalry against other men growing more severe, Hawks has officially become too unruly for you to handle, and you’re the goddamned handler. You couldn’t lose this job! What if they terminated you completely and you couldn’t get another position from the Commission?

You paced back and forth in the empty office. Hawks was late this morning, leaving you alone with your endless worries. He may act lazy, but he was never actually late for his meet ups. Looks like you’ll have to call him and pray that nothing serious has happened.

You jumped when your phone vibrated before you even reached into your pocket. Ah, looks like Hawks reached out before you did. You held your phone up, prepared to answer, and froze.

It wasn’t Hawks. It was the deputy, the very man that was kind enough to give you this job. He hasn’t called you since your first few days here to help get you started. With your progress, you doubt he was calling to give you a raise.

Well, as much as you wanted to throw the phone out of the window and find an appropriate place to bury yourself, you didn’t make it this far by cowering from these guys. Taking a deep breath, you picked up and greeted the man on the other side with a steady voice. “Good morning, Deputy.”

He addressed you with the same bored and unimpressed tone that you hear from every member in this cursed organization. Jeez, if you keep working here long enough, are you going to eventually sound as soulless as them? “I assume you are aware of Hawks’s current condition?” he asked.

Dammit. “My apologies, sir. I know that I have been neglectful of Hawks’s health and his behavior during this time. I have been doing my best t-”

“That isn’t the issue I am talking about, but thank you for confirming that you have indeed failed in keeping Hawks’s unsavory habits under control.” You flinched. Way to rat yourself out. “Hawks had managed to find and subdue the troublesome villain Libido.”

“Ah, of course. I have been informed of that, sir.” Libido was a cunning little criminal that has been causing trouble all over the city of Fukuoka. His ‘Love Breath’ quirk gave him the ability to exhale fumes with powerful aphrodisiacal qualities. The guy even made his own gas bombs, releasing them among unsuspecting crowds in the public. He was less of a villain and more of just a chaos-loving hoodlum that was too slippery for his own good.

The deputy carried on. “One of the sidekicks has told us that Hawks was exposed to his quirk.”

Oh. Oh dear. That’s some strong stuff to be subjected to.

“We have ordered Hawks to go home immediately and wait patiently instead of heading to a hospital. We will be sending treatment his way.”

Some of the tension left your body. “That’s good to know, sir. May I ask what kind of treatment he will be taking? I know I haven’t convinced you yet, but I want to do anything I can for his well being.” You hesitantly asked. Please, oh please let me make up for everything that has been happening.

You heard a faint chuckle from the other end. “That’s very good to know, because the treatment is you.”

You’re glad he couldn’t see the confusion on your face. “I’m sorry, sir. Are you saying I’ll be the one to doctor him? I’ll need to know what medicine he needs and how much rest he’ll be expected to-”

“Do you know how people affected by aphrodisiac quirks are normally treated?” he interrupted you for the second time. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before continuing. “Given your questions, I’m assuming that you don’t. We can indeed offer drugs to weaken the effects, but Hawks will still be in great distress and will take a long time to recover, especially since he’s neglected to take his hormone medication with the help of an incompetent handler.” Ugh, you get it already. You screwed up. “But the quickest and most efficient remedy is, without a doubt, sexual contact and allowing the quirk to run its course. That is what we expect you to provide for him.”

What.

You took a full minute to collect your thoughts and ensure that you heard everything correctly. The deputy waited patiently. How kind of him. Once you gathered yourself, you conjured the most constructive response you could think of.

“Huh?”

An overly loud sigh sounded in your ear. Hey, it’s his fault for dropping this bomb of a request on you. “We can’t have the number two hero out of action for too long. The alternative is to strap him to a bed and sedate him for an uncertain amount of time. His rut has enhanced the quirk’s effects; this may even strengthen his arousal for the rest of the season.”

Your face paled. That sounds ten times worse than the way Hawks was already acting. “So, if I were to…be with him,” you blushed at the very thought. “That would provide the best relief?”

“That is the gist of it. You told me you would do anything for Hawks’s well being. Can I hold you to that?”

Your pounding heart was almost drowning out his voice. You didn’t mean to corner yourself like this. “O-of course. I’ll see what I can, um, do.” This discussion was getting uncomfortable.

“I didn’t expect you to be so hesitant. You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.” He laughed at his own joke. You sure as hell weren’t laughing with him.

“Yeah, of course, sir,” you grumbled. “I suppose I shouldn’t leave Hawks alone for too long. I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You’ll need to take some precautions, of course. Here’s what you need to keep in mind…”

———

You walked out of the local pharmacy, cradling the pills tightly to your chest like some sort of security blanket. The deputy’s advice echoed in your head.

“It’s best that you take contraceptives. Hawks’s mind will be clouded with feral cravings, such as the urge to breed. He is not going to accept condoms.”

You tossed the pills onto the passenger seat in your car.

“Again, Hawks is suffering from both the magnified effects of Libido’s quirk and his annual rut. It’s possible that he will not be of sound mind. If things get out of hand, you have the right to protect yourself.” the deputy paused for a moment. “Just try not to leave any marks on him, if you can. Hawks must look presentable at all times.”

Well, you did have a stun gun that you thankfully never had to use, and hopefully it will stay that way.

The deputy’s help made you way more anxious than before. Were you about to have sex with a horny man, or tame a dangerous beast? You still didn’t know what to make of this predicament.

You take your phone and select Hawks’s number. It’s probably best not to surprise him at his door. Hopefully he wasn’t too riled up and ignores your call.

The phone rings once, then twice, then you hear…whimpers? Shit, was it getting that bad?

“Hawks? Are you there?” you asked calmly.

“Babe.” Goodness, his voice was rough. He sounds like he just ran across the country. “Oh thank God. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

“Wha—no.” This was a mistake. You really weren’t prepared for such levels of horniness. He just blurted that out like it was nothing! “Look, um, I heard your urges are becoming too much to handle. I’m heading on over there to…help you.”

For a while you just heard what sounded like breathless laughs and weeping. Hearing him in such a fragile state had you genuinely concerned. “Y’serious? We’re-ah-we’re gonna fuck?” He was panting heavily between words.

Heat was gathering in your face. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Get over here-fuck-so I can stuff you, babe. You’re gonna be mine. Oh I can’t wait to fucking have you.” This sounded like a goddamned porno and you couldn’t handle it. There was a strange sound in the background as he rambled, something like wet smacks. You kept hearing it in sync with his grunts and…

Oh.

“Just hang in there, alright?” You said quickly, wanting to end this call right now. “I’m coming.”

“Well, I’m not. My hand’s really not doin’ it for me. Gotta be inside you, babe. Gotta cum in that tight-“

You hung up.

You banged your head against the steering wheel harder than intended, but at least the pain got your mind off of…whatever all of that was. You can’t believe you just heard your favorite hero breathlessly talking about how he wants to bang you while jerking off. You didn’t know it was possible to feel this mortified, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the tingle between your legs.

Hawks, one of the top heroes of Japan, the heartthrob of the generation, was lusting for you. It had you both excited and on edge. You remember the deputy’s comment.

“You’re a loyal fan of his, aren’t you? You should be thrilled. Few fangirls get this opportunity.”

You probably would indeed be thrilled if the circumstances were less dire. Your fantasies normally involved something simpler and more romantic, not saving him from his own sex-hazed mind. You still weren’t sure what you were walking into, and that was admittedly a different kind of excitement.

There was no time to waste with the state Hawks was in. Calming your nerves, you started your car and began taking the route to his place.

———

Here you are, at the doorstep of Hawks’s house. His place was surprisingly humble for a top hero, it made this encounter just a little less nerve-wracking. Pressing a finger to the buzzer, you waited anxiously, rocking back and forth on your heels. You really hope he’ll be dressed decently when he answers the door.

Your heart skips once you hear a click and the doorknob twists. It feels like it takes an eternity for the door to open and reveal…nobody.

Instead, you were greeted by a small flock of feathers suspended in the air. They slowly floated a distance away from you before stopping, as if they were waiting for something. You cautiously stepped inside, some of the feathers closing the door behind you. You don’t know what type of welcome you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. The feathers guided you, drifting up a flight of stairs and into a room with its door hanging open. You can hear harsh breathing inside, reigniting your fear. “Hawks?” You hesistantly called out without getting any closer.

A cracking voice cried out your name. “Help me. It fucking hurts. I’m so hot. Make it stop.” He sounded like he was crying. The desperate pleas prompted you to mask your fears for the umpteenth time and approach the room, taking in the sight of the man that has been waiting for you.

Hawks was naked, not to your surprise, but still to your absolute horror. He sat on his bed, skin glistening with sweat and a deep blush spreading throughout his upper body, making him look more feverish than aroused. His chest heaved with the irregular breaths that left his hanging mouth. His hair was even more unruly as usual, some of his locks sticking to his damp face. Your eyes locked onto his, pupils dilated and looking right through you.

He looked awful.

You came closer, trying your best not to stare at the very swollen and throbbing member between his legs. “I’m sorry,” you said softly, stopping right in front of him. “I didn’t think it would get this bad. I-I want to help. Just tell me what to do.”

He was on his feet the moment you finished, nude body just inches away from yours, but you kept your feet planted where they were. As his large wings slowly opened and enclosed around you, you noticed how brilliantly hued his feathers have become, practically glowing a vivid scarlet. It was captivating.

Two clammy hands came up to hold your face, the same hands he was furiously pleasuring himself with just a moment ago holy shit, and his mouth was on yours before you could even react. You gasped in shock of it all, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. It was less of a kiss and more of just him hungrily ravaging every inch of your mouth, your own tongue wrestling with his to keep him away from the back of your throat. One of his arms lowered to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against his bare form, making you yelp when you felt his erection pressing against you. Hawks’s dick was on you.

You were too overwhelmed by his restless mouth and his DICK to notice the stray feathers hovering over you. A tug and a loud rip made you jolt. Hawks held you still, the sound of expensive fabric tearing making you flinch as your skin was slowly being exposed. The feathers were shredding your clothes.

You pulled away from his suffocating mouth just enough to take a breath and attempt to speak. “Hawks! Wha—” only for him to smother you once again.

“Don’t move,” he uttered between kisses. “Don’t want to cut you.”

With a few more slashes, your cherished suit was now scattered on the carpet in tatters, revealing your body to him, but the feathers weren’t done. The floating blades carefully slid under your panties and bra. You stood completely still, Hawks kissing you with less aggression in an attempt to soothe you as the feathers sliced through the last of your clothes. You were now just as bare as him. He simply held you tightly, face rubbing against yours with the occasional lick against your heated skin. Your eyes were closed shut, unable to process his frantic tongue, his surrounding body that felt like fire, his cock that was now pressed to your stomach you were going to drop dead holy shit.

“Smell so good. Tastes so good.” he groaned, still sounding short of breath. His mouth went down to your neck, sucking at it hungrily and giving the occasional nip, forcing a faint moan out of you. He continued his descent and reached your breasts, molding them roughly and attacking your nipples with hard sucks. Despite the rough treatment, a tight heat was building up in your abdomen, your hands cradling his head as he explored you. He ventured lower, now on his knees with his face right at your womanly mound.

Your heart was pounding when he leaned in, his nose lightly touching you as he drew in a long breath and giving a pleased sighed. His nose pressed in further and poked at your glistening pussy, your thighs clenching in surprise while he happily took in your scent. Fuck, he was really just kneeling between your legs and smelling you. You were ready to protest and tell him that this was getting too embarrassing before something wet and hot slid against your folds, replacing your planned words with a yelp.

Hawks apparently approved of your taste, strong hands grasping the back of your thighs as he brought you in closer to fully devour you. Your cries were impossible to hold in while he lapped at you, mind becoming too clouded with pleasure to stay modest. He moaned loudly into you, the erotic sound vibrating against you, tongue fondling every inch of your folds before his lips closed around them, sucking greedily and almost making your knees collapse. You were getting close, grasping onto his head in a desperate attempt to stay balanced, his mouth now assaulting your sensitive bud. Your blissful whimpers joined the filthy sounds of his feasting when your orgasm washed over you like throbbing magma. Once your legs lost the last of their strength, Hawks set you down gently on the floor, still licking your sensitive lips.

“Ah, Hawks…too much…” You whined weakly.

He got the message and pulled away to immediately climb over you, giving you a clear view of his face glistening with your juices. Bright wings were fully spread out once more; it feels like you were about to be taken by an angel, the most savage angel you could ever imagine.

He came down for a sloppy kiss, spreading your own womanly nectar all over your lips. “Hope you’re nice and ready now. Ready to take everything I’ve got.” He mumbled against your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile and feel grateful that even in such a frenzied state, he was still kind enough not to jump you the moment you were within sight.

You brought a hand up to caress the side of his face, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch like the needy animal that he was at the moment. His body was still unnaturally hot and he was still breathing harshly. It’s time to finally give this poor man some relief.

“Go ahead, Hawks. I’m all yours.” You were indeed ready for everything he has.

Hawks said no more, gripping himself and aiming right for your opening. The moment his head was pushing past your lips, he thrust forward, filling you completely and knocking the wind out of you.

You honestly thought he came right then and there with the totally profane howl that left him. “Fuck…!” he choked, looking on the verge of tears. Despite the seemingly paralyzing pleasure, he wasted no time in moving, his pace quickening at an alarming rate. Your pussy was still sensitive from his wonderful licking, his dick currently sending painfully powerful shocks that you just weren’t ready for, and yet heat began to pool within your core for a second time. Your arms were wrapped around his sweaty form, nails biting into his skin and forcing rugged grunts out of his throat.

The wet slaps of your bodies rang throughout the room, your limbs quivering as he pumped into you faster, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, full and prepared to pour every drop of its contents into your womb. Hawks had buried his head into the crook of your neck, letting you feel every breathless moan right against your ear.

All you could do was hold on and take the increasingly rough pounding. His rhythm was sloppy from the start, but the thrusts were becoming even more irregular as a sign that he was already reaching his peak. Not surprising, given the state that he’s been in all day. One well-aimed thrust hits your sweet spot, making you moan loudly against him.

The sound eggs him on, driving his hips at a bruising pace and fuck it feels so good it hurts. Your eyes shut tightly as another orgasm breaks free, your feminine walls clamping around Hawks, squeezing his own climax out of him. You gasped at the powerful throbs of his cock as it shot out stream after stream of cum inside you. The purely animalistic growl that rumbled through him had you shaking in the best way while you watched his wings twitch and flap, hitting you with a light gust.

After an impressive amount of spurts, Hawks collapsed on top of you. He was heavy, but having his weight on you like this was pretty nice. You rubbed soothing circles around his back, listening to the rather inhuman cooing sounds he made in response.

You just had sex with Hawks, your favorite hero and the very man you were paid to look after. Oh man, how badly have you screwed up your relationship? Not that you two had much of a bond in the first place, but now things will most certainly get even more awkward.

A twitch inside you interrupted your thoughts. What the hell? Hawks’s breathing was accelerating again as he suddenly lifted his weight off of you, and that’s when you realized even though he came, he was still hard.

With newfound energy, he pushed your thighs towards your chest and rammed into you before you could even register what was happening. His new angle had you seeing stars with each thrust, hitting you even deeper than before. The sensation was dizzying, your overstimulated body beginning to throb all over. Hawks had the most obscene expression on his face, glazed eyes watching your tits bounce while his mouth hung open, drool trailing down his chin. You didn’t know such a look existed outside of adult videos, and having it aimed at you was enhancing your stinging pleasure.

Looking down granted you the view of his drenched dick pushing into you, each slam of his hips rocking you into the carpet, which honestly burned like ouch. Thankfully Hawks was reaching his tipping point once again, his hips moving at a bruising pace before one final smack. You were spoiled with another wonderful image of his head thrown back as a choked moan escaped him, another round of cum shooting into you.

He finally slid out of you as he sat back to catch his breath, wings limply dropping to his sides. Finally. You didn’t know how much more your womanhood could take. The strain of moving your legs made you wince. Did he have to pin you so roughly?

Hawks watched silently as you pushed yourself up. You felt behind your back and…dammit, you really did bruise back there. Maybe you should go find a mirror; hopefully it didn’t look too bad. You noticed that Mr. Horny Wings continued to just stare, pupils still enlarged and his dick was still hard what the fuck. He suddenly shifted onto all fours and crawled behind you. The light brush of fingers over your blemished skin made you shiver. They weren’t big enough to be that painful, but you still hissed when he applied a little too much pressure, making him pull away.

“Sorry.” His voice was still raspy as he apologized.

You shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Could’ve been wor—AH!”

Hawks shoved you forward, manhandling you until you were properly on your hands and knees. Fuck, your entire lower body was starting to ache, and here he was, ready to go another round. The head of his still-swollen dick was already pressing at your entrance. Grasping your hips, he pushed past your puffy lips and re-entered your heat. You bit your bottom lip and took the limitless strength in his hips, his balls sometimes smacking right into your clit and bringing you closer to your next climax.

His pace slowed down briefly in order to lower himself and suck at your bruises. “Nnngh, fuck, Hawks!” The combined pain and pleasure had your insides burning. He moaned and panted into your back, kissing up to your neck and sucking there as well. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso, pressing your body against his in an intimate embrace as he plunged into you more deeply.

It was impossible to not moan after each stroke. His face rested on your shoulder, and you reached behind to bury a hand in his hair. Shit, this was all getting so intimate. He was holding you and was so close, you could feel the ripple of his muscles as he caressed every inch of your inner walls. Your third burst of pleasure had you quivering against him as he continued to chase his own orgasm, stars appearing in your vision with each thrust. Hawks sank his teeth into your neck before bottoming out and releasing more cum inside you.

Both of you were lost in your sensual spasms before you collapsed. Hawks didn’t lay on you completely this time, his sweat-soaked form crouched over you, close enough to still be inside of you…

And rock hard.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

You stayed as you were, your face down and your ass up, as you felt him humping away at you again. You could barely whimper as your tender pussy took another pounding. Christ, why wasn’t he getting tired? If the quirk was getting any closer to wearing off, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

It wasn’t long before he came again, grunting with each hard buck as he filled you with his apparently endless supply of cum. Was he done? Please be done. You turned your head just enough to check the state of his erection.

Nope.

Hawks had enough mercy to carry you to his much more comfortable bed before continuing. He took you again.

And again

And again.

You were positively ruined, no more strength left in your body as he repeatedly claimed you with fervor. Whenever it appeared you were getting uncomfortable in a certain position, he would simply switch things up before carrying on. Despite how utterly exhausted and raw you felt, your orgasms kept coming, every surge of pleasure clouding your mind more and more.

You had lost track of time. Was this his fifteenth go? seventeenth? Keeping count was becoming a drag. It didn’t help that Hawks was in too much of a trance to even speak, giving you nothing but moans and growls. At least he didn’t sound on the verge of tears anymore, so maybe he was making progress.

Another orgasm was approaching; could your tired body even handle it? You were laying on the edge of the bed as Hawks stood and fucked you. Even through all of the overwhelming passion, you never got tired of staring at his wings, the dazzling red never failing to mesmerize you. They fluttered rapidly as the tension in your core spilled over, your mouth opening in a silent scream and a blackness closing in on you with every blink.

Your body was finished.

———

Everything hurts.

That’s the first thing you noticed when you woke up and made the mistake of stretching. Your arms and legs ached, a sharp pain shot through your back whenever you shifted, and between your legs…well, the throb down there didn’t at all feel pleasurable anymore.

Still, you fought the pain to sit up and examine yourself. Your nether regions were surprisingly clean, almost as if someone had already taken care of it. With all of the cum Hawks pumped into you, it should frankly be an awful mess down there.

Speaking of, where was the guy?

“Hey.”

Oh, there he was leaning in the door frame. He had obviously tidied up, no longer a flushed and sweaty wreck, and was now sporting a pair of loose pants and a tee. You had never seen him looking so casual. It was probably a privilege very few had, and knowing that ignited something in your chest.

He glanced around before looking back at you. “You alright?”

Realizing you were just gawking at him and haven’t said anything yet, you coughed to ensure your voice was still clear and functioning. “I’m fine.”

He snickered. It was a sound you were used to whenever he knew he had the upper-hand in some way, but something about it felt softer this time. “I just fucked you into high heaven for a whole day.” He could’ve acknowledged it in a less shameless manner, dammit. “I just wanna know if you’re alright. You look pretty stiff.”

A jolt shot through your lower back in perfect timing with his statement, making you flinch. “Yeah, I’m—I’m pretty sore. Very sore,” you admitted.

“Ah,” He stood up straight. “I’ll go get some, uh, pain relief. Be right back.” And with that, he was out of your sight.

You waited patiently for his return, actually observing his bedroom for the first time. It was surprisingly bare, the room of someone who didn’t spend much time at home. There was a window that you didn’t notice and holy shit he was right. It was nighttime; you spent the entire day in Hawks’s bedroom. The fangirl in you was squealing in delight. You told her to shut the hell up.

The man returned with a glass of water in one hand, a pill in the other, and a set of clothes draped across his arm. “Here,” he handed the water and medicine over before sitting beside you on the bed. You gulped down the capsule, sputtering a bit as the cold water flowed down your dry throat. “I’ve got some clothes that might fit you well enough. Sorry about your suit. I’ll give you some money for a new one.”

He’s never sounded so wooden before and you couldn’t stand it. You let out your best good-hearted laugh as you took the offered clothes. “Stop that, Hawks. You sound as bland as your bosses right now,” you joked.

He laughed along with you. “Heh, sorry babe. Just worried that I came on a little too strong at the beginning there.”

You simply hummed in response. His clothes were so warm and smelled like him. Despite being surrounded by his strong scent for hours, you still welcomed it.

“So…looks like you’re feeling better.” You took in his appearance again now that he was closer. There was still a tinge of red in his face, but he seemed overall back to his usual relaxed self.

“Oh yeah, much better. The feeling’s still there, honestly,” he saw your eyes widen and instantly blurted out, “Just barely! I can ignore it and think clearly just fine now.” A boyish smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’ve got a hero. You really saved me back there.”

A ridiculous snort left you after hearing such praise. “Is that all it takes to be the great Hawks’s hero? I’m flattered.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” He looked you square in the face, and you couldn’t look away from his sincere expression. “It’s never been that bad before. Not gonna lie, I’m embarrassed you saw me like that. That was worse than all of my teenage ruts combined. Damn villain’s quirk really messed me up, felt like I was going fucking rabid. I don’t know what state I’d be in if it weren’t for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to respond to his gratitude. “You’re welcome,” was all you could say. “You don’t need to feel bad about it. It’s…” You looked down at your feet. “It’s not like I didn’t like it. It was very draining, honestly lost track of time at a certain point, but it, uh, it was an experience.”

Hawks nodded in response. “Sure was. Never thought I’d rail a girl so hard and for so long that she’d pass out. I’m impressed with myself.”

“Hawks.”

He hung his head in mock shame. “My apologies, ma’am! I completely forgot that such vulgar language isn’t tolerated around you.” And there’s the infuriating grin that you were beginning to miss.

Both of you were laughing, slowly melting away the tension and stress that filled the room since morning. This…this was nice.

“So, you probably still don’t feel all that great, sooo…” Hawks rubbed at the back of his neck. “You wanna stay for dinner? Already ordered a chicken pizza with some wings.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows. “Taking me to dinner after the sex?”

“Hey now, you know me. ‘The hero who’s too fast for his own good.’ Sometimes I miss a step or two.” He winked before getting up to leave. “You just lay there and rest, and go pee already. Don’t need an infection on top of everything else you’re going through. I already cleaned up the horrifying scene between your legs.”

You shuddered at the crude comment before falling backwards onto the poor mattress that had endured so much today.

Tomorrow, it will be back to professionalism. Back to pretending that you’re Hawks’s superior. Back to sucking up to the Commission. You’re going to cherish every minute of tonight, enjoying the company of Keigo Takami, not Hawks.

A shout echoed from downstairs. “The bathroom’s still empty, babe! Get your ass in there and pee!”