#now settled into their dynamic some months down the road

[robthegoodfellow]

Make Me Feel Mighty Real 1/?

follow up to praise kink soft dom Steve uber sub Billy fic (also on Ao3) from last year's Kinktober event. the boys play around with total power exchange. tagging @gigacat and @makeadealwithdean because i remember you liking the original 💛

no porn yet. pre-porn.

Billy didn’t want him to ask how his last exams went. Didn’t want him to mention his classes at all—a complete erasure of the last few weeks of compulsive flash cards and study guides and late nights at the library. He’d been mumbling psych terminology in his sleep, tossing and turning, and gnawed on so many pencils his desk seemed occupied by a tiny beaver.

Over the past however long since Billy had become his… well, his—his good boy, his baby, his first thought on waking, his to have and to hold in a sense felt more deeply than tying the knot, in a sense that transcended all he’d ever known of how two people could be together and frankly still knocked him breathless when he thought about it too much—anyway, since all that began, Steve had come to view his life as though through this peculiar prism.

Certain facets were as they’d been before, like now: soldiering through the numbers at work, making nice with surrounding cubicles, acting the part of the straight-laced office drone, diligent and dull as dirt. He’d been voted Best Hair at the office Christmas party not just because his hair was objectively magnificent but also because that was all anyone knew about him. By design.

He did his work, got paid, and the moment he left the building, Office Steve shut off. Some people centered their lives around a vocation, and some joined the rat race, scrambling to pull even, pull ahead. Then there were people like his dad, where career success determined your entire worth—your net worth all that mattered.

Steve was none of those things. Swore to himself he never would be.

So Office Steve had already been separate from the rest, from the facets of himself he valued most: the person he was with friends, with family, with girlfriends. The person he was just hanging out at home.

And he’d been content with those facets for so long… until Billy. Until something about Billy turned the prism and a flash of light unveiled a side of himself he’d never known was there, alongside the others, patiently waiting for that beam of recognition at exactly the right angle.

Billy dropping to his knees, face angled up, lashes low, eyes locked where Steve’s cock strained the denim.

Standing there, towering like he’d never towered before—looming, imposing, imperative—Steve had never felt so firmly seated inside himself. In command.

It was hard to explain. He’d been puzzling it through for months, but all he knew was that, these days, with every step he took up the stairwell to their apartment, something in him shifted, bestowed this clarity of need and means, so by the time he reached their door, crossed the threshold, he practically thrummed with it.

That day, knowing what he might find upon entering, the thrum heightened to a subdermal buzz, so intense he had to pause on the Welcome mat, breathe deep and slow. In control.

Billy was inside, would have finished his last exam an hour ago. And last night, as they drifted to sleep, he’d mumbled what he wanted, what Steve had been probing him for—what he wanted to do, how he wanted to celebrate, once exams were over.

Could we do… you in charge?

Like that evening in late summer, he meant, when they’d toyed with total obedience, Steve at the reins of every decision, free to follow any whim—unless Billy signaled yellow, they’d decided. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.

Me in charge tomorrow night? Steve asked, his blood already rushing at the thought, the memory.

Maybe. Billy had turned, nuzzled into Steve’s side, more snuggly under his arm. And maybe… try for longer? At Steve’s enquiring hum, a teasing lilt, he’d huffed, finally said it straight out: You in charge all day.

Steve hummed again, low rumble in the chest, and trailed fingers up Billy’s spine to hook in his necklace, twine the chain until it hugged his bobbing throat.

Saturday? Steve asked.

Depended on where his head was at, Billy said. If he was up for it, they could start early. Start Friday. And see how it went.

Baby’ll be honest?

Billy nodded—more accurately, rubbed his cheek at Steve’s ribs.

Baby’ll be where he wants? When I get home?

On his knees, if he wanted to start.

Billy nodded.

On the welcome mat, Steve exhaled once more. Unlocked the door.

Billy didn’t move from where he knelt on the floor, facing the couch, his shoulders at ease, hands on his thighs. He was in the same clothes from that morning—jeans and sweater. One of Steve’s.

The TV was on, volume low, a blurred murmur beyond the pulse pounding in his ears.

Steve closed the door behind him. Locked it.

“Look at me,” he said, and Billy did, turning his head, gaze skirting the floor to find Steve’s shoes. Watched as Steve toed off the shoes, as he approached, silent socks on the soft blue carpet.

Steve sank fingers into messy curls, angled the head to see Billy’s face. Thumb brushed beneath his eye, and though the lashes rose, the baby blues were soft and spacey.

“Color.”

Not a question. Billy blinked, slow to process. Steve stroked his hair.

“Green.” He said it quiet, on a breath.

Even unfocused, his boy had this ravenous quality, like his eyes, his ears, his every sense were sponges primed to soak it up, suck in Steve’s smile, the pleased curve, and Steve’s words, just as pleased, and soft.

“Good boy.”

Next

[ajokeformur-ray]

If this is triggering pls skip I don't wanna make you uncomfortable in anyway 🩷, but how would J feel if he found out his S/O has an abusive boss? Ik he would be angry and stuff but what would he do?

Hey nonnie🫂I totally get it, I work in an abusive workplace myself so I understand. I hope this offers you & anyone else who can relate some comfort. We deserve better.💖

J would definitely be angry.

However, and this is the bit you might not like - he'd be angry at your boss and at you.

Angry at your boss for abusing their staff rather than adhering to the duty of care which employers legally have towards their employees, and angry at you for staying there for as long as you do once the red flags starts to stack up.

He wonders what the straw will be which breaks the camel's back - what will it take for you to leave?

J's highly intelligent, he understands the dynamics of any kind of abusive relationship. He knows it's hard to spot the signs, more so if the abuse is happening at work. He knows that once you're in an abusive relationship, it's even harder to leave. He knows the logistics; you need the money, the economy doesn't have many jobs going right now so you need to stay where you are... on and on the reasons go as to why you can't - won't - leave your workplace.

But that doesn't mean he has to like it. J doesn't have to like it, not one bit.

He's watched you come home in tears on multiple occasions, and he's heard from some of his men that you've cried on your way home in the streets, too, though that's subtler than how you cry in the shower when you think he isn't home. He's home more than you think he is. J takes good care of what's his and how can he take care of you if he isn't home?

J is angry at you for not leaving, but he understands that it's easier said than done, he's seen it time and again in the people who walk the streets with their shoulders curled inwards and their heads down, like the weight of the world is slowly settling on their shoulders, hammering them closer to the ground as they get stomped on each and every day.

Your boss is the hammer, and you're the nail.

One more good swing, J reckons, and you're done for.

Except it doesn't seem to be, as you take swing after swing after swing, and still you go to work, still you try your best, still you kill yourself to live. And J's frustration grows and grows; you don't have to live like this, but you want to work, you don't want to live solely off of J's lucrative crimes. It's tempting sometimes, and you'd be a liar if you said it wasn't.

But you're too proud for that, and so you take the hits without leaving your abusive boss.

Realising after some months that you're not going to do anything about your situation of your own accord - it's been years - J starts to intervene in his own ways. Making sure there's an accident on the road your boss takes to work so that they are delayed for some time, making sure that they can't get the coffee they want first thing in the morning due to some kind of supplying issue even though they had it in abundance yesterday morning... on and on the inconveniences go, and their severity depends on how much you were abused the last time you were at work.

J holds you when you cry, he listens to you rant, he gives you sage advice only when you ask for it, and he only listens when you don't. He supports you, in his own ways, but he's very angry, make no mistake. His tone is especially biting when you make threats to quit, and he thinks finally, and then you don't. You stay. That same nail in the same wall with that same hammer.

How much more can you take, J wonders? He's proud of you, he's angry at you, he cares and he is curious about what you're going to do. All of these things at once, his thoughts like trains with no final destinations, but he knows that one day you will leave, and he will celebrate with you when you do.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Tranquility.

You're not good at keeping secrets from the boys. Turns out, Will isn't either.

Pairing - Will Miller x female reader. Benny Miller, Santiago Garcia, Frankie Morales x female reader.

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Brief allusion to sexual content. No cursing in this one!!

Word Count - 4.3k

Author's Note - hi lovelies. here's another triple frontier fic for you all!! i love writing these boys so much. we all know by now that i am a total will girly, so it's no surprise he takes the lead in this one. but all the boys are included - i can't leave them out <3. as always, if you have any specific requests or thoughts, send them over!! lots of love x

my other triple frontier fics - Tethered, Time, and Home Is Where The Heart Is.

Masterlist. Requests.

“Baby, we gotta go!”

“Coming!” you yell, running down the stairs with a duffel bag in your hand. “Almost forgot my toothbrush.”

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t on your neck,” Will winks, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Shut up, Miller,” you tease, no real malice in your voice. You lean up to peck his lips gently, before he takes a step back.

“We can’t be late again. I can’t make up another excuse – last time was bad enough.”

“That was literally your fault! You were the one that couldn’t keep your hands off me, like some sort of teenage boy,” you laugh.

“It was the green dress’ fault, not mine. I don’t regret it,” he chuckles.

Will winks at you again before picking up your bags and walking outside to pack up the car.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Four days by the lake with your boys sounded like complete and utter bliss. When Frankie had suggested it, initially, everyone had laughed it off. Realistically, it wouldn’t work. You all struggle to plan a day off at the same time, never mind multiple. It sounded like a sweet little idea. Nothing more.

Then, life got stressful. Work was tough on everyone, families causing issues, deadlines looming – the mundane routine of every day wearing the five of you down. Eventually, it was Santiago that snapped.

“We’re going to that damn lake house,” he exclaimed one evening in Benny’s backyard. “I don’t care what we have to do. I don’t care if we all have to call in sick. We are going to the lake house.”

He looked around at his friends, expecting them to instantly shut him down. Instead, he was met with unanimous nods of agreement.

That was months ago. It was a logistical nightmare, working out your schedules to intertwine with each other, but you did it. You were ridiculously ready for four days of swimming, drinking, sunbathing and laughing with your favourite people in the entire world. It sounded like the well deserved break everyone needed.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Will’s warm palm meets the bare skin of your thigh as he drives. The roads are long and monotonous, but you don’t care. Everything is an adventure with him.

“You still sure about not telling ‘em?” he asks, blue eyes flitting over to you briefly. He’s got a gentle smile on his face. He always does when he’s with you. It’s like his default setting.

“Yeah, I think I am. Are you?”

“Yeah. Think we should live in paradise a little longer.”

“Paradise, huh?” you tease, squeezing his hand.

“You know it is. I’m on cloud nine every moment I’m with you, baby.”

His words make your head spin, and you’re glad you’re sitting down already. You wonder everyday how you got so lucky. It’s rare, to know with full certainty that you are someone’s favourite person in the world. The centre of their universe. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming. Mostly, it’s astounding. It warms up your bones, settles itself carefully into your ribcage, pumping your heart to the beat of Will’s love. What a gift.

Which is why you’ve decided to keep the two of you a secret from the boys. You know that it won’t change anything between the group, not really – but you’re a little worried nonetheless. It’s scary, altering a dynamic that works so well. The five of you, stuck like glue, know each other like the lyrics to your favourite songs. You know each others strengths, weaknesses, favourite ice cream flavours, middle names, star signs, families – everything. It’s the kind of friendship that binds you together for life. Changing that in any way would break your heart. Will’s too. You know, deep down, that they’ll be perfectly accepting. But the fear still lingers, ugly and unwavering.

Also - you and Will didn’t take the most conventional route into a relationship.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you met in Delta Force. Co-workers, first. Comrades in arms. He had your back, you had his. You saved each other’s lives countless times. You’d stitch up each other’s wounds, carry each other back to base, share your water even though you only had a drop left. You were a team.

Then, you became friends. It’s hard not to, when you’re thrown into a life-or-death situation. You spent 24 hours a day together, wherever you were sent – sometimes Asia, sometimes South America, sometimes Africa. You got to know each other, learnt one another’s quirks and habits and likes and dislikes. The five of you bonded quickly and effortlessly. It made you a slick team, your missions running like clockwork. You could all predict each other’s movements, finish each other’s sentences. It’s what made you so successful, so revered.

After Delta Force, you became friends outside of work. Forced proximity friendship is one thing, but actually making the time to see each other back on home soil is another. You were worried that you were going to drift, and all of the trust built would perish. That wasn’t the case. The five of you quickly adjusted to being home together. You’d all spend Saturdays in Frankie’s backyard, Friday nights on Santiago’s porch, Sundays in Will’s kitchen. You’d pop by and see Benny on a Wednesday night after work, ready to watch another episode of that reality show you both couldn’t get enough of. You’d see Will any chance you got. Sunday morning farmers market trips and early swims and pancakes for breakfast and why don’t you just stay over? It’ll save you driving home.

You’d been best friends with Will for years before you realised how you felt about him.

It’d hit you, all of a sudden, one Sunday morning. You drove over to Will’s to pick him up, ready to go to the flea market downtown. You were going to grab lunch after, maybe cook some dinner together later. Just an average day.

You let yourself in to his house using the key he’d had made for you years ago. You had keys to all the boy’s places – just in case. You found Will at the stove, shirtless, golden skin on display. Whatever he was cooking smelled heavenly, and you wondered for a minute how it was fair that he was talented at everything.

“Morning, Miller,” you sing, throwing your bag down and striding over to him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he replies, turning around to face you. He opens his arms and you step into his space, wrapping yourself around him and resting your head on his bare chest. You inhale, breathing in his scent deliberately. He smells like warmth and sleep and sunshine and promises.

You take a step back, craning your neck to look at him. The morning sunlight is gleaming through the windows, casting a gold hue across the room. Will’s hair is glowing, illuminating him like some sort of halo. Angelic boy.

Those ocean blue eyes survey you carefully. He rests his hands on your hips, pulling you in closer.

“What’s on your mind? I can see it runnin’ a mile a minute,” he murmurs. You try to look down, but he catches your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently guiding you back up.

How do you explain that you’ve just realised that you’re completely, utterly, irreversibly in love with Will Miller? That it’s just dawned on you like a sunrise, warm and promising? How do you tell someone that you’re quite convinced you’ll drop dead if you don’t kiss them immediately? Is it even possible to explain these feelings? Is it possible to put all of these emotions into words? Are there enough words in any language to explain the enormity of what you’re experiencing?

Instead, you simply say,

“I’m in love with you.”

Will’s pupils blow wide, and he sways slightly, as if the weight of your confession has knocked him off balance. You steady him by cradling his face, forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t have to say it back,” you continue. “But I’ve kind of just put the pieces together, and it seems stupid not to tell you. You of all people know that life is short and fragile and can change in the blink of an eye, so I just thought –”

Will cuts you off by smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is passionate and tender and so full of love you’re convinced you could get drunk off it. He pulls back for air and looks at you earnestly.

“Don’t have to say it back? Sweetheart, do you know how often I’ve dreamt of you saying those words to me?”

You can’t help but break out into a grin. You feel like you’re floating, levitating above ground, held up purely by the love William Miller has for you.

“You have?” you ask, disbelief written on your features. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was waiting for you,” he beams. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

You smile at him ear to ear before jumping into his arms. You kiss him again, legs wrapping around his waist to anchor yourself, closing the distance. He spins around the kitchen with you in his arms, the joy of being in love filling the room.

Suddenly, Will puts you down.

“Stay here,” he tells you, before sprinting upstairs.

Usually, you can predict Will’s every move. But not now. Now, you’re more confused than you’ve ever been.

He returns, placing a kiss to your forehead, before getting down on one knee in front of you.

“Marry me,” he says, complete certainty in his voice. You’ve never heard him this assured.

“Will… what?” you ask incredulously. You confessed your love for each other ten minutes ago, and you’ve skipped straight to marriage, apparently.

“Listen. I know it’s crazy. I know it seems fast. But we’ve loved each other for years, sweetheart. I realised when I met you that I was never, ever going to love anyone else again.”

He pulls out a box from the pocket of his pyjama pants and opens it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. It’s understated and it’s elegant and it’s just so you.

“I bought this two years ago. Maybe you think I’m insane, and maybe you’re going to run out of that door the minute I stop talking. But I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”

You’ve been trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully for the past few minutes. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion, and your brain is trying to keep up.

“Will, we aren’t even technically dating,” you tease playfully. You already know your answer. You just like hearing him bear his truth to you like this.

“We’ve been dating for years, technically,” he rallies. “Everyone always thinks we’re a couple. We’re together every weekend, we go on dates, you sleep over… we went grocery shopping last week!”

You grin, remembering how you’d jokingly argued over whether to get the red or the green grapes, and how you’d ended up getting both. It was all so domestic it made your heart ache.

The two of you sit in the silence for a minute, Will still on one knee. He’s looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. There’s no doubt in your mind what you’ll say.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Will. God, yes. The easiest yes of my entire life.”

He jumps up to grab you, spinning you in circles. You kiss him with so much force he stumbles backwards. Will takes your left hand, and carefully slides the ring onto your finger. It looks like it’s always belonged there.

You always knew it’d be Will Miller. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

That was months ago. The other boys know that you and Will spend a lot of time together one on one, so no one has suspected anything out of the ordinary. You have no doubt they’ll be happy for you both, but you’re content to keep everything a secret a little while longer. It’s easier, that way. It means you and Will get to keep living in your bubble of bliss, unphased by the outside world. You’ll tell them soon enough. You’re just trying to savour every last second.

“We’ll tell them soon,” you reassure Will, interlocking your fingers with his where they rest on your leg. “We’ll make it a whole thing, if you like. It feels like something that warrants a celebration.”

“Oh, definitely,” he grins, turning his eyes back to the road. “We’re almost there. So, you’re gonna have to act like you’re not totally head over heels in love with me for four days. You think you can manage?”

You scoff playfully, and squeeze his hand.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you tease. He chuckles, and the melody of it is music to your ears.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You arrive at the lake house only ten minutes late, which you and Will agree is not entirely unacceptable.

“Finally, they’re here!” Benny yells as he bounds over to the car. He envelopes you in a bear hug, picking you up off the ground accidentally.

“Frankie is inside,��� Santiago reassures when he catches you looking over his shoulder. You turn to give him a hug, and he kisses you on the cheek. Old habit.

“Santi, did you pack bug spray? You know the mosquitoes love you,” you wink, running your hands through his hair affectionately. He has greys coming through, and they suit him beautifully.

“Yes, hermosa, I got your text reminding me,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

You and Will grab your bags and make your way inside, where Frankie is making margaritas.

“Hola, mi amor,” he greets, wrapping his arms around you. “How was the journey?”

“All good, Francisco,” you reply. “I have a very reliable chauffeur.”

Will laughs from behind you, and it makes your knees weak.

“Bad news, you guys!” Benny interrupts, jumping to sit on the counter. “You two have to share a room, since you were the last ones here. Finders, keepers, and all that.”

That really isn’t the inconvenience that the boys think it is, but you and Will play along nonetheless.

“Damn it. He snores, you know!” you laugh, looking over to where Will is pretending to be offended, hand over his heart.

“That’s what you get for being late, losers!” Benny retorts, throwing his head back in amusement. Everyone laughs along with him, and all the tension melts from your body.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s day one, and you’re already struggling. You’re all relaxing on the dock, soaking up the sun’s rays. Will is wearing his forest green swim trunks with a ridiculously small inseam, his strong thighs on display. You so badly want to kiss them, lick them, bite down on them in the way you know he likes. Instead, you sip your margarita and settle for ogling him over the rim of your sunglasses.

He dives into the lake elegantly, and a bead of sweat drips down your neck. He breaks the surface, coming up for air, and pushes his hair back, water cascading down his golden skin. He’s glowing, beaming, gleaming in the sunlight like an ancient marble statue. You’re practically panting. Santiago notices.

“You okay, hermosa?” he asks, giving you a once over.

“Yeah, Santi, I’m good. Just super warm,” you lie. He seems to buy it, because he moves to grab his book, fanning you with it. Admittedly, the light breeze does cool you off, and distracts you from Will. Double win.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you joke, as he pretends to tip his hat towards you.

“You should join us!” Benny shouts from the lake. When did he even jump in?

“Yeah, come on, darlin’” Will chimes in, watching you with a slight smirk on his face. He’s not going to pass up the chance to see you sun soaked and dripping wet.

“Fine!” you huff jokingly, pulling your oversized t shirt (which you’re realising belongs to Frankie – when did you steal that?) over your head. You’re left in a bikini that leaves little to the imagination, the bright colour accentuating your skin beautifully. You look good. You feel good.

Will looks you up and down and takes a deep breath. You’re just friends, remember? He’s trying to convince himself, attempting to make the act somewhat believable. You break him out of his thoughts by running along the dock as fast as you can, and diving into the lake with a surprising amount of grace.

The five of you spend all afternoon in the water. Benny thinks it’s hilarious to pick you up, placing you on his shoulders before jumping backwards, sending you both flying through the air. You all play catch, laughing when Frankie misses the ball and accidentally punches Santi right in the stomach. You and Will easily fall back into your old habits of being friends, but you can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger just a second too long every now and again. You’re sure nobody else clocks on, all of the boys too busy splashing each other like children.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When the evening comes, you all shower and dry off while Will and Frankie make dinner. You, Benny and Santi curl up on the couch, trying to warm each other up after hours of being in the water. You eat, you laugh, and you all swap stories about the things that you’ve missed since you last saw each other properly. It’s bliss. Perfect tranquility.

The sun sets, and you all move outside to the deck. Santi starts a campfire, and the five of you grab beers, settling into the warmth of the crackling wood. Everyone is relaxed, not a care in the world. You wish, for a moment, that life could always be like this. As if reading your thoughts, Will reaches out and brushes your cheekbone with his thumb in a fleeting moment, before retracting his hand as if nothing happened.

“I’m gonna make us some warm ciders,” Frankie decides, rising from his chair.

“I’ll come and help you. You always put way too much alcohol in - these idiots can’t handle it,” you signal towards where Benny, Will and Santiago are sat. They all scoff at you, laughing because they know it’s true.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sit atop the counter next to where Frankie begins gathering his ingredients. When a strand of hair falls into his eyes, you move it away gently.

“Will you let me cut your hair tomorrow? It’s getting in your way,” you ask him softly.

“Of course, mi amor. Wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

He smiles at you, and your heart swells. You love this man so much - some days you wonder how you got so lucky. All five of you are bonded for life, best friends until the end. But there’s no denying that you and Frankie have always understood each other on another level.

He stops making the drinks, moving to stand between your legs. He looks at you intently, as if he’s trying to solve something.

“I like seeing you happy like this,” he murmurs.

“How can I not be?” you whisper back. “I’m with my favourite people. I have everything I could ever want.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, and he chuckles. He begins to draw slow circles just above your bare knee. You can tell he’s thinking carefully.

“It’s Will, isn’t it?” he asks, gentle smile on his face.

In this moment, you could lie. You could feign innocence, deny it with your life, maintain that you and Will are just friends. But what’s the use? Why hide the best thing that’s ever happened to you from one of the people you love the most in the world?

“Yeah,” you grin. “It’s Will.”

He’s practically beaming at you now, equal parts proud of himself and you.

“Knew it,” he murmurs, careful to keep his voice down. “Did something happen?”

You realise now that there’s absolutely no point in lying to Frankie. You’ve come this far. Might as well tell him the truth.

“We’re engaged,” you whisper, grinning from ear to ear.

He pauses for a moment, processing the news. You can see the shock registering on his face. Then, he lunges forward, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh my god, hermosa! You’re kidding!”

He’s squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe. You hear a shout from the boys outside and remember where you are.

“We haven’t told anyone yet. We’re just living in our little bubble of happiness for a while.”

“Hey, I get it,” he reassures. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. I knew it’d happen eventually. It was just a question of when.”

You hug him again, so overwhelmed with love. What a miracle, to be loved like this by so many brilliant people.

“We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise. We were thinking of making it a party, a whole celebration.”

“Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

He pinches your knee playfully, before making his way back to his drinks, smile still plastered across his face.

“Hey, Francisco?” you murmur, still aware of the volume of your voice.

“Yeah?” he turns, giving you his full attention.

“So, I know it’s not traditional, but, I mean, when have me and Will ever done traditional?” you both laugh, and you continue. “I was just thinking – and you don’t have to say yes… I’d love it if you did, but really, you don’t have to – “

“Spit it out, mi amor,” he teases gently.

“Will you be my best man?”

He stops in his tracks, suddenly serious, and you’re worried you’ve made a mistake. Then, he breaks out into a grin, practically running over to bear hug you again.

“Of course I will,” he confirms into your ear. “I’d love nothing more.”

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly.

“I love you too, hermosa. So much.”

Frankie kisses you on the forehead once, then again, and begins to pick up the drinks he’s made.

“They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long. You know how they get,” he winks, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sit in your happiness for a little while, just basking in the glow. You’ve never felt so at peace.

Will wanders into the kitchen, immediately coming over to stand in front of you. His warm palms find your hips, and he leans in to kiss you softly.

“Hi, sugar,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Hi, handsome,” you mutter back.

“You okay? You disappeared,” he asks, fingers moving in warm circles on the bare skin of your waist.

“I’m good. So good,” you smile, kissing him again.

It’s then you realise what you’ve done. You broke the rule – don’t tell the boys.

“Will?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I have something I need to confess.”

He pulls away so he can see your face, and smiles at you gently, before putting the pieces together in his head.

“You told Frankie, didn’t you?” he asks, still smiling.

There’s a pause before you bare your truth.

“Yes. I’m sorry! He kind of figured it out himself, and he asked, and I didn’t have the heart to lie to him. He’s my best friend, he can see right through me at any given moment. I know I was the one who said we shouldn’t tell them and I know this makes me a hypocrite and I’m sorry – “

Will cuts you off - just like that day in his kitchen - by smashing his lips to yours.

“It’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he reassures when you pull away.

“Really?”

“Yes. I promise.”

He rests his forehead against yours, and allows you to breathe him in. Then, he chuckles softly.

“What?” you ask.

“We’re idiots,” he replies.

“I mean, yes. But why?”

He chuckles again, clearly amused, before answering,

“I totally just told Benny and Santi while you were in here telling Frankie.”

You process the information, before bursting into a fit of giggles. He joins you, the both of you laughing like fools.

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish I was. Benny made a comment, said he’s kinda noticed that something has changed, and I just sort of confessed.”

You’re both laughing so hard your sides hurt. What are the chances? It all feels like fate. The two of you, together. The timing of the evening. It couldn’t have worked out any more perfect.

“We’re idiots,” you agree, throwing your arms around his neck. Will pulls you off the counter and spins you around, making you shriek. It’s the most beautiful déjà vu.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you make your way back out to the deck. As you walk over to the boys at the campfire, you’re suddenly caught off guard by two of them rugby tackling you, the three of you barrelling into the ground with a thud. Benny and Santiago are crushing you beneath them, shouting as they do it.

“Congratulations!”

“Hell yeah, sweetheart!”

“How did you even keep this a secret for so long?”

“Yeah, when were you planning to tell us, huh?”

“Can’t believe you’re marrying my brother. Oh my god, we’re gonna be family!”

“The five of us are already family, Ben.”

“Yeah, but, like, legally. Brother and sister!”

Benny’s hair is in your mouth and Santiago’s knee is in your ribcage and your earring is caught in someone’s shirt and the grass is scratching your back and you can’t breathe. Will and Frankie are watching from a distance, chuckling. You wouldn’t change it for the world.

Tranquility.

[mollybecameanengineer]

Object Permanence

Summary: Set in 2004, Mulder and Scully try to adjust to Scully reentering the workforce. Written for the On the Run @xfilesfanficexchange

word count: 3,986 | Teen | MSR | @today-in-fic

This story was written for LotsAndLotsOfPhiles. Their prompt was, "I'd like something focusing on the dynamic between Scully going out to work at a "traditional" job vs. Mulder staying at home once they've settled in the Unremarkable House. How do each of them cope in their respective situations?" I absolutely loved this prompt, and I hope they enjoy the story!

Also, big thanks to @cecilysass for the beta!

Read on AO3 or check out the first section below the break

The First Day

Scully looked at herself in the mirror. Gray slacks and a light blue shirt made her approachable, she thought, unlike her black suits from the days of yore. She wore heels that wouldn’t have lasted a day on the X-Files. Her (now long) hair was neatly pulled back, not meticulously sprayed in place. 

She looked like a professional. Though not the professional she had been. 

“Lookin’ good, doc.” Mulder wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I’d forgotten how good your ass looks in slacks.”

She rolled her eyes. Patting him on the hand, she broke away and turned to face him. His hair was a bit too long and his beard could use a trim. He was dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt – his standard summer fare. It had been years since she’d seen him in a suit, and before today she wouldn’t have said she missed it. He looked good in his casual clothes. Suits brought back a lot of memories, not all of which Scully wished to dwell on. But now, standing in front of the mirror, looking at the discrepancy in their appearance, she felt a pang of something – a longing for the way it had been. Or maybe for the way it could have been. 

She stuffed the emotions down, putting them with all the emotions she didn’t want to feel. Emotions about the year Mulder was gone, about their son. The two years they’d spent on the run, unable to contact friends or family. All her feelings about those things had been put in a box, wrapped with a bow, and shoved into the deepest corners of her mind. 

She put this current feeling, of him not being by her side as she went to work, right next to it. 

“You want me to make you some breakfast?” Mulder asked as Scully went to the bathroom to put on her makeup. 

“I’m not hungry,” she replied. The problem with putting feelings on a shelf in a dark corner of her mind was that it didn't agree with her stomach.

“You’ll get hungry at some point.”

When she ignored him in favor of her eye shadow, he left the room.

~~~

Mulder dug her travel cup out of the back of the cupboard. They each had one – hers was seafoam green, his was red. They had used them daily when they’d been on the road, but, having been in their home for three months now, neither of them had had cause to drink coffee on the go in a while. 

He filled her cup three quarters of the way full, then topped the rest off with cream. Once, a long time ago, she had asked why her coffee always tasted better when he made it. He’d just shrugged, but he knew it was because he added three times more cream than she did. If she knew, she’d tell him she didn’t need those extra calories, but he enjoyed the smile his creamy coffee produced (not to mention the way it filled out her tits and ass). 

He pulled out a few of the protein bars she liked and put them next to her coffee. Scully came into the kitchen, work bag slung over her shoulder. She eyed his offerings. “Thank you,” she said, putting the bars in her bag and grabbing the coffee. “What are you going to do today?”

He had no earthly idea. After spending nearly a year without her, Mulder hadn’t been apart from Scully for more than an hour since. Today was the first day of the rest of their lives. She would go to work, he would… not. 

“I’m sure I’ll be able to get a lot done without you in my hair,” he said, a smile making it clear that he loved nothing more than her being in his hair. 

“Is that so?” she said, playing along. “Well, I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.” 

~~~

Scully's stomach grumbled as she moved onto her next patient. She'd eaten one of her protein bars on the drive, but now it was 12:30 and her body wasn’t used to eating on someone else's schedule. She’d take a lunch break soon, she hoped. 

Just as she was about to reach the bed of her next patient, she felt her pocket vibrate. She pulled out her phone – it was Mulder. Her heart skipped a beat, as she worried about why he might be calling. Dark thoughts crept into her mind: they’d arrested him, he was injured. She never should have left him alone. 

She pressed the answer button, diverting away from her patient. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied. His voice sounded normal, even a bit cheerful. “It’s lunch time and I wanted to see how your first day was going.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m not on lunch break yet.” 

“Oh, should I let you go?”

She glanced over at the patient. What harm would five minutes do? She headed for the bathroom. “No, I can take a minute,” she replied. 

“So, how’s it going?”

“Good,” she replied as she entered the restroom. She looked under the stalls, ensuring she was alone. “I have a lot to learn, but generally things seem good. What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know, browsing the internet and contemplating what I can do to the house.”

“Mulder,” Scully put on a stern tone. “Do not tear apart the house.” 

“I’m not going to ‘tear apart the house’. I was just thinking about how I could fix the rotted part of the porch.”

Visions of Mulder falling through a floor after destroying a sink floated into Scully’s head. “You can fix it by hiring a handyman.” 

“Oh ye of little faith.”

The door to the bathroom opened, and one of the nurses came in. She gave Scully a look (evidently doctors on cell phones in the bathroom wasn’t standard around here) before proceeding to a stall. 

“I have to go. I’ll let you know when I’m headed home.”

“Ok, doc.” 

The line went dead. 

Keep reading on AO3

[danpuff-ao3]

Ending Mutuals March on a very special note. PI, @perverse-idyll, my longtime writing crush, and now my friend.

It was love at first sight when The White Road was first posted. I can't remember when I first read it, but it was around the time it was posted for sure. And I've read that fic every year since. At least once a year, if not more. By the time I read When the Rose and the Fire Are One I knew it was true love!

PI's stories have been deeply meaningful to me for a long time. And I have always admired her skill. Prose? Gorgeous, stunning, perfect. With great knowledge and great passion she strings words into gorgeous treasures. Raw stones left to their rough glory, or shaped and shined as needed. Not only a gifted wordsmith, but a wise and empathetic person who understands the human condition, and the complexities of emotion. Someone with great love for beloved characters, but also great understanding. Love born of understanding, which is everything I long for!

We love the same characters, and the same OTP. She does such justice to these characters, and their dynamic. She's always written Snarry exactly how I needed it. I have treasured her works for many years, and they have been my favorites for many years. Of course, in those earlier days I was much too shy to let her know just what her works meant to me.

Then, in recent years, I had my first interaction with PI. On Reddit, of places. I recced one of her fics and she responded to it which blew my mind a bit, since her Reddit name isn't perverse_idyll, lol! So...I tried to be chill, which if you know me, you know how hard that is! Me, but an overenthusiastic fangirl trying not to scare off her faves, haha! If I remember correctly, I finally set about drafting a comment on The White Road not long after that. Long overdue that one!

Then...time went on. During a very rough period with an old fandom group, I turned to PI's works for comfort. And in November 2021, the same month I left that old fandom group, PI's episode on @fanficmaverickpodcast (Ep. 25 interview) was released!

I was over the moon excited to listen to it! But the sort of excited that meant I couldn't dive in right away. I had to run around and squeal a bit and settle myself down in order to listen. It is a long episode, two and a half hours long, but well worth it! The host, ChaosBlue, is a dear friend of mine now, and a very professional and charming host. And perverse_idyll was a fantastic guest, with so much insight and enthusiasm for fandom and for writing. 10/10 recommend it. I ran around and shared the episode everywhere I could.

And then...Reddit. PI shared the episode on Reddit, with encouragement for others to reach out to ChaosBlue to do their own episode. And...I did! God, that's a whole other post in of itself and how amazing ChaosBlue is, but basically...I felt pretty audacious! I had to work myself up quite a bit to reach out. And as hard as it was to reach out, I don't think I'd have found the courage to even think about it without PI's little note. It both inspired and comforted me. And doing my own interview for the podcast was such a great (and terrifying!) experience that I'm glad I did. (See: ep. 32 Interview)

From there...it came over time. PI was so kind and supportive about my interview. I found the bravery to reach out to her directly at some point. And though she is quite the busy lady, she is always so giving of her time and energy in responding when she can! PI is such an encouraging, generous, compassionate, supportive spirit. One I feel very blessed to know. She has so much clear respect and admiration for other creators. So much love and dedication to fandom, however busy or wild life may be.

Other fandom experiences reminded me of why they say to never meet your heroes. But PI spared me from being too wary of folk. PI is an excellent reminder that, sometimes, the creators we admire are even better humans.

PI's works were so meaningful to me for so long. And PI as a person has just as much impact! Thank you for being my friend, PI. Thank you for everything that you do. Thank you for all that you give to fandom; for all that you create, and all the support you give. And thank you most of all for being there for me. And showing such kindness and gentleness in times I needed it most, whether you knew it or not.

Here's to you, my friend. Time for me to wipe my eyes and drop some recs! Maybe by the end we'll have forgotten what an emotional mess I am LOL.

The Afterlight

Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Work in progress. Background case. Mutual pining. Friends with benefits. Denial of feelings. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending.

Y'all cannot know how thrilled I was when PI posted a new fic. This one! And though it's only just begun, I already feel in my bones it will be a new favorite! PI as ever provides Snarry exactly the way I love it!

After surviving the Battle of Hogwarts, a long convalescence, and a short trial, Snape walks free and promptly vanishes from Wizarding society. Six years pass before he shows his face again. A lot can change in six years, and a romantically disillusioned and inebriated Harry hits Snape up for a friends-with-benefits arrangement. After all, they share an experience most people have never had: they both know what it's like to be dead. Their liaison works surprisingly well until Harry's reckless behaviour as an Auror leads to unethical practices and personal calamities, and things start to fall apart.

Candles Lit Against the Dark

Minerva/Wilhelmina. Minor Harry/Severus. Rated: G. Words: 13,585. Old friends. Postwar. Heavy drinking. Fond bickering. Snapecase 2023.

Many feelings. Very realistic and bittersweet. With all of the realism of life, for all of its rough edges, uneven paths, and the love found along the way.

It's been a few months since Minerva's retirement, and she'd promised Wil a dinner out. Before she knows it, friends start turning up on her doorstep and then at the pub, not least among them a certain spy who came in from the cold.

In Infinite Remorse of Soul | And Mine the Gall

Albus/Severus. Harry/Severus. Revenge. Obsession. D/s undertones. Afterlife. Incest (ish.) Dub-con. Twisted love.

I am obsessed. This is dark and fucky and weird and wonderful and gorgeous. The sequel, And Mine the Gall, features one of the lines that has most haunted out of every fic I've read. Love it love it love it!

Albus Dumbledore never makes the same mistake twice. Certainly not in love.

No Room for the Weak

Eileen POV. Rated: T. Words: 10,444. Dysfunctional family. Mindfuck. Pre-Snarry.

Love love love love love this. Some Snape family history. Eileen is great. Very fascinating look at the woman who bore and raised Severus.

There's a Boy Who Lived and a boy who didn't, and even a mother can't always tell them apart.

The Son

Regulus POV. Rated: T. Words: 5,422. Unhappy families.

First there were two sons. Then there was one.

Warm

Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Words: 11,323. PWP. Fluff & smut.

PWP feels wrong for this. So much sensuality and tenderness and good god the LOVE here. Also, I'm sorry, but Harry and Severus existing as themselves basically is plot, but I digress....PI says it's PWP so it's PWP. I'm not going to argue with her!

Severus still suffers the after-effects of Nagini's venom, especially in winter. Harry knows just how to warm him up.

When the Rose and the Fire Are One

Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Words: 81.619. Confinement. Dysfunctional Relationships. Spinner's End. Dubious consent. Sex magic.

Cool magic stuff. The best OC I've ever met (Odile, my beloved.) Ideas of Spinner's End and Eileen Snape that have lived in my head ever since. Big angst and fuckery. Great characters. Great relationship development. Everything is just...A+, chef's kiss, amazing.

Harry's haunted by guilt. Snape's warded by roses. Each must free the other in order to free himself.

The White Road

Lily POV. Harry/Severus. Rated: E. Words: 47,877. Afterlife. Romance. Redemption. Voyeurism. Incestuous vibes.

Longtime favorite. One of the first fics that fully blew me away. I read this and thought "this does not belong on the internet, this belongs on a bookshelf."

One day, comfortably set up in the afterlife, Lily Evans Potter switches on the telly and gets hooked on the Harry Potter show.

for an explanation about Mutuals March, or to figure out why i wrote you a thing, please check out this post.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Rage Rising - Chapter 1 - A Grease Fic

Kenickie’s been antagonising Sandy for a while, but when something goes wrong in his personal life, it all comes to head with Danny.

Words: 3244

Also on AO3

The group sat around the fire, the embers flickering up away in the early spring breeze. Half hearted laughter blew away along with it as Sonny and Doody made an attempt at humour. Danny tried to make his reaction genuine, yet struggled, as their humour hadn’t evolved past elementary school and was starting to wear down his patience.

He tightened his arm around Sandy and smiled. The fire glowed on her skin, made the light blazing in her eyes intensify as her body shivered slightly in the cold. An instinct, a hidden one from years before when his Dad tried to teach him the ways of women, told him to take off his own jacket and place it around her, making her grin when he did.

She seemed more comfortable after a few months of being at Rydell, now the drama of her first getting here, the dance and the drive-in had settled he could see she was getting close with the group. Well, apart from Kenickie.

He knew why. The arrival of Sandy had changed everything they had and had been building up. Years of trust gone down the drain because of some unspoken rule that they couldn’t be friends while Danny was with her. 

They weren’t just friends, though. He remembered the nights spent by the racetrack watching the drivers train. The lights shone on his face the same it was on Sandy’s now, but he gave him butterflies as they kissed in silhouettes, she radiated comfort as he tried to bury the past.

A car rumbled along the dirt track, they weren't too far from the town but far enough out that the lights in houses were distant and the road petered out about half a mile away. 

Headlights lit up the trees, turned them from black to vibrant green before the car turned and stopped beside Danny's and Rizzo's. 

Danny knew that fresh paintwork, the shabby bumper and tired flat top roof. It was Grease Lightning. So, it was Kenickie.

He hadn't seen him much lately, all his time had gone into the car. Danny had helped of course, they were all helping, but it was always with the others. They didn't seem to be alone anymore. Every time Danny suggested anything, fixing the car, going to Frosty's or just hanging out, Kenickie'd shrug it off. 

Suddenly he could handle the car alone, wasn't hungry, like you needed to be hungry to go to Frosty's, or he'd just outright make some snide comment about Sandy needing him.

He thought he wasn't being obvious with how little he liked Sandy but he definitely was. His face had become scarce at group hangouts like this, ones where Sandy came. Even Rizzo was being more civil than him, and she could be a real bitch sometimes.

Kenickie lit a cigarette with his overdramatic lighter and slammed the door behind him. He scanned the group, his eyes landing on Danny before switching to Sandy, then back again. His hand lingered in his pocket as he put his lighter back, tension sprung tight in his jaw.

Sandy, being her usual naive self, waved at him. Her face dropped when he scowled. He dropped himself near Rizzo. The gang stopped in their antics, stared at him before he raised his hands and pulled out his cigarette.

"What?" He said.

"Nothing," Rizzo said, then added under her breath. "You're just the Jack Ripper of the mood that's all."

Kenickie must not have been fully paying attention, as he just scowled, again. He usually would spit something back at her, that was their strange dynamic when it came to flirting, yet, when he saw Rizzo's face, he wondered if they were fighting again.

She just rolled her eyes and turned to Sandy. Danny wouldn’t say they were friends, Rizzo would talk enough shit behind her back to make that known, but it had decreased of late. She was being civil a lot more, not directly antagonising her like she did at the start. Maybe Frenchie had talked to her, she was the only one who really seemed to be friends with everyone lately.

“So-” Rizzo said with one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen, like he said, they weren’t friends, “Frenchie tells me that you two went on some kind of date?”

As she said that, she glanced at Kenickie. Danny didn’t even know what they were fighting about now, he couldn’t keep up with them before Sandy and certainly couldn’t now. From what he knew, Nick was trying to be supportive about Rizzo being pregnant, so why was she annoyed?

"Oh, yeah, we took a trip over spring break to a racetrack in-" Sandy pondered for a second.

Danny filled in the blank, "Sonoma, near San Francisco."

He moved his gaze away from Kenickie deliberately. That place was special to them. When Nickie first got his licence, because of course he got it first, he always drove when they 'borrowed' people's cars, they took a long weekend away to San Francisco. The school would've raged if that was their first time skipping school, but it wasn't, so no real fuss was put up for them.

It wasn't glamorous. As two poor sixteen year olds, they couldn't afford the ritz, or even a hotel. They slept in the car, under the stars and were thankful for the California weather.

"Sonoma?" Kenickie said, almost a whisper.

"Yeah, it was great, although I don't know much about racing," Sandy exclaimed.

She must have been oblivious to the shadows running across Kenickie’s face, but Danny wasn't. He saw him go through the stages of grief in a single moment before darting up and breaking the scene.

With his locked on the fire, he said with words seething rage, "Danny, can I speak with you for a second."

He knew what this would be. It had been building for a while. Since Sandy came into the picture they just hadn't been the same, and despite them both trying to keep it under wraps, some things just couldn't stay unspoken for long.

~~~~

Kenickie tugged Danny toward the wooded area away from the light of the fire, not too far so they’d be in complete darkness, but far enough away that they wouldn’t be heard. And he needed to make sure they weren’t heard. 

After they’d gotten far enough away, Kenickie could finally let go of everything that had been driving him crazy for the last few weeks, no months. He could barely speak. Anger was flooding his system, more than he thought he could feel for someone so close to him. But under that, beneath the layers of viscous red was something much worse, something he was almost afraid to feel because it would mean so much more than just a girl stealing his friend. It was heartbreak.

“Sonoma?!” Was all he could get out at first. “You took her to Sonoma?”

“What, like it’s illegal?” Danny spat back

The look on his face told Kenickie he didn’t mean it. But he didn’t care.

“It was a date, I wanted to take her somewhere special, somewhere where we wouldn’t get disturbed by a certain group of teenagers,”

Maybe he was a little right about that? That night at the diner may have been a little disruptive, but maybe he wanted it to be? Danny being with Sandy was the whole reason he was so angry lately. He wanted nothing less than to ruin every moment they had, maybe then she'd leave him alone. 

"Fine, but Sonoma? That place is almost a seven hour drive away, you couldn't think of somewhere closer?"

"Didn't you hear me? I wanted somewhere far away."

"San Francisco, then?" He said. "Why Sonoma?"

He stepped closer, close enough that he could see the distant flames flicker in Danny's eyes. Clenching his hands at his sides, he fought the urges to pull the lapels of his jacket, the one they spent hours trying to stitch with their insignia. He knew that part of him he was afraid of, the part being denied because of Sandy, would take it too far. 

"You know what that place means to me, to us,"

As he stabbed his chest with his finger, he thought back to that weekend. Stolen car, beers bought off a fake ID, watching races without a ticket. The stars glittered so brightly as they talked about girls. In a moment of impulse, they said some bullshit about practicing kissing for girls and their lips met. Cars raced past, the wind picked up and something undoubtedly began. Something Danny couldn't just deny now he had a new girlfriend.

"I know, okay?" Danny said.

Honesty was wrought all over his face. It didn't stop everything else Kenickie wanted to say, but hesitation began to spring. 

"I know we can't do this-" he gestured between them. "But just, don't pretend that we've never been more than friends."

He glanced around at the floor, "Sandy may be a cover for something, but don't make me feel like I made it all up. I get it, sometimes I wonder if me and Rizzo are real, I do feel things for her, or if it's all a cover up-"

"Sandy’s not a cover up." Danny said, confused. "I never said she was a cover up."

Kenickie ran a hand through his hair. By the way Danny's face went from reminiscing about to the past to noticing the cold hard present, he'd fucked up with that last comment. He pushed him away. Kenickie’s anger at each him finally matched.

"But that's just what you want, isn't Nickie?" 

Was he a wimp if that nickname made it hurt more? Only Danny ever called him anything other than Kenickie. 

"And you're fed up because you're not getting what you want, like you always do."

Sentimentality was gone. He thought of the letter in his pocket. That's why he actually came here, not to shout at Danny, but to finally get a chance to talk to him alone. Now they were here, rage rising, full of anger.

"Get what I want?" Kenickie snapped. "When have I ever got what I wanted? My mom walking out on me, is that what I wanted? Having a dad that doesn't give a shit, is that what I wanted?"

"My dad's in prison, you're not the only one who's had a hard life, alright?"

Both of them were heaving now. His hands were shaking, partially from anger, partially from hurt. They'd never fought like this.

"And why are you going on to me about not being there? You're the one avoiding me at all costs!"

He looked away. Sure, that was true, but he had his reasons. Danny didn’t have to say it in a way that made him question everything. Not that he would tell him that, he couldn't trust him anymore, not after everything that had happened.

"Why would I want to spend time with you when all you do is talk about her?" He bared his teeth at him. "Oh, Sandy’s parents invited me for tea, they really liked me, running track's not so bad maybe Sandy’s onto something."

He pulled away, running his hand through his hair again, one of his nervous ticks. Whoever said talking about emotions must've never actually done it. All he was feeling was shaky, guilt flooding his system but satisfaction at seeing Danny's face before he came up with something to say.

"You're changing too much. I don't want to be around you because you're boring, becoming like everyone else. Clubs, parents, the Danny I remember was there for me when I needed him, answered the phone or rang me back because he knew what it meant."

"Well maybe I don't want to hold your hand like some baby anymore!"

Thwack! Danny recoiled from the punch and stumbled back a few paces. Blood trickled from his nose. He swiped it with his finger as he looked up at Kenickie. 

More guilt flooded his system, almost making him forget why he did it. Even during their worst fights, it never got to that point. It had always been them. Their bond was strong and consistent, sometimes the only consistent things in each other’s lives. But now that was gone, Kenickie felt he was spiralling. The only thing keeping him tethered was the car and Rizzo being pregnant, even if it wasn’t his. 

Then the anger came back and he remembered that was exactly why he did it. Danny had always been there, rain or shine, girl or no girl. If he rang him, a mess, in the night, he’d pick up or have a better excuse than ‘I was having dinner at Sandy’s’. If he knocked on his window, he’d let him in. Now the world had turned on its head and couldn’t make out which way was up. 

“I’m not a damn baby Danny and you know it,” he spat. “You’ve always known it. If there was anyone who’s been through shit, it’s us, so don’t go saying that me needing you is me being a baby. You know I needed you and now you’re feeling guilty-”

He pointed at him and as he kept his gaze at where they'd kicked up dust from their scrapple, “Well, good, but don’t go blaming me just because you can’t handle that your changing is pushing everyone away.”

Tears sprung now. Everything was going to shit. Just when his life seemed to be going well, Sandy came into the picture. And, sure, he knew she wasn’t manipulating him and he knew that their friend group wasn’t breaking apart but it was so much nicer to have someone to blame. Because he’d gotten tired of blaming his dad, he knew he’d never change, and couldn’t blame a mum that wasn’t around. Blaming Danny and Sandy was the closest he had to getting something to change, even if it hurt deep down.

The tears blobbed down his face now. He tried to rub them away but the dam was open, he couldn’t stop it now. Reaching into his pocket, he thought he might as well show him the letter. They’d come this far, why not tell him what he’d intended to in the first place.

“You know, I actually had a reason for talking to you, something serious.” He tugged the crumpled letter out of his pocket and flashed it at Danny.

“My mom wrote, Dad got to the letter before I did, he was drunk out of his mind by the time I got home from working on the car and you know what he gets like when he’s drunk,” he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. “And I called you because you get it, except now you don’t.

“You don’t get it, you call me a baby for wanting some support in my shitty life but instead you’re with that bitch-”

“Hey!”

“You’re with her and you don’t care what else happens as long as everything’s fine on your own little planet, well for the rest of us, maybe it ain’t!”

He couldn’t take this anymore. His feet carried him away, out of the wooded area and back toward the fire. He didn’t feel like staying, though.

“Kenickie, wait!” Danny called after him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

He turned around, fully aware that everyone was watching them but suddenly not caring, “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Maybe you should show it by thinking of something else but you and your girlfriend, Rizzo’s pregnant, Frenchie left the school and came back, and I-”

He held his tongue about the letter. Mentioning his mum was something he rarely did to the others. They thought he was aloof and blasé about it, not that he’d cried when he’d found the envelope opened by his dad on the kitchen table just because that tiny little connection he still had with his mum, wherever she was, may finally be broken.

He stood in close, tapping his chest, “-I needed you, and you weren’t there, so don’t bother next time, okay? I don’t need you, not anymore.”

He knew that was an exaggeration. It was a good way to end an argument but what was he going to do on Monday, or in the shop with the car. He needed him and he knew it but he couldn’t let him know that, at least not yet.

~~~~

“Kenickie,” Danny called after him as he climbed into his car. “Nickie, wait, please!”

The group was speechless as the car pulled away, its headlights illuminating them for a moment before the tires screeched on the dirt path. They just left to watch Danny. He stood like some lost kid waiting for his mother to come back. He left his gaze on where the infamous ‘Grease Lightning’ had been parked.

Sandy broke the silence, “Maybe I should talk to him, it looks like what Kenickie really said really hurt him.”

Rizzo placed her hand on her arm and gave her a look she evidently didn’t understand.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

“Why? They've been fighting since I got here, they don't seem like good friends from what I've seen,”

It was in times like this that it really showed that Sandy was the new girl. Most of them had known each other their whole lives, or at least more than a year. Frenchie had moved here in her freshman year, Rizzo wasn't proud of how she’d treated her at first, but as their group slowly formed, everyone eventually got along. Until now, of course.

Rizzo turned to face her fully, "Look, Sandy," she started. "Danny and Kenickie have been friends for as long as any of us can remember, and they've been all each other has had for almost as long."

"Has Danny told you about his dad?"

She knew that information was sensitive. Usually she didn't care about keeping secrets but even she knew there were some things you didn't spout carelessly. 

"Yeah, he's in prison, isn't he?"

Rizzo nodded, "When he got sent down, Danny went straight to Kenickie’s house, still in his suit, and practically dragged him out the house."

Sandy took the information in with wide eyes. 

"And Kenickie-" she wasn't sure whether to tell her, but Sandy didn't seem the type to heartlessly tell people's tragedies. "Well, don't tell him I said this, but his mom walked out, dad didn't take it well, whenever things get a little much, including the day his mom walked out, Kenickie could always rely on Danny."

"You being here has disrupted that, and I know you probably didn't mean it, it's just that Danny's never been with a girl as seriously as you have, so there's less space for Kenickie in his life," she said, then added. "At least that's what Kenickie thinks, anyway."

Sandy didn't respond for a little while. There was a look on her face was confused Rizzo. After trying to decipher it, she realised it was her being pensive.

"Maybe someone should talk to him, then," she said, as if it was that simple.

But as Rizzo watched Danny trail about without purpose, she wondered if it actually was. They were all so tied up in their own complicated worlds, preconceived ideas and places in their group made fixing things seem impossible. Maybe someone new was exactly what they'd needed after all? 

Not that she’d admit that to Sandy.

I've had some ideas for grease for a while and @caveiratimida encouraged me to write this! My general ideas are that Danny's dad is in prison for GBH, Kenickie’s mum walked out on him (with his sister that he doesn’t tell anyone about). Also, yes, they do have thing, or did before Sandy.

Thanks for reading!

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING’S MAIN EVENT: March 1990

YOU CAN’T TRUST JIM CORNETTE

By AL McGINESS

PHOTOS BY DEBRA MOSER and JOE ZANOLLE

Jim Cornette is probably the greatest manager in wrestling history. He has made his Midnight Express into one of the greatest tag teams of all-time. Now, he is “advising” the Dynamic Dudes, Johnny and Shane, two up-and-coming stars. Cornette is devious and not to be trusted, The Dudes better watch out!!

June 14th, 1989, a day which will live in wrestling infamy. That was the day of the NWA’s “Glory Days: Clash of the Champions VII” held in front of a sell out crowd of drunken Marines and their families at Ft. Bragg, N.C. The featured event on the card was to be the finals of the World Tag Team Title Tournament for the vacant NWA straps. THe four teams which had the misfortune to have to appear in the extremely hot, infested with drunks, arena were the Samoa Swat Team, THe Fabulous (and Mighty) Freebirds, the Dynamic Duds and the once-great Midnight Express. 

[The Midnights wrestle prelims nowadays.]

For eight months, the Express and their big-mouthed manager, James E. Cornette, had pandered to fans and seen their once stupendous careers go down the toilet. THe team which once beat up cretins such as The Rock ‘N’ Roll Express, the Fantastics and The New Breed, now associated with that type of trash, and just like those teams, were headed nowhere in the wrestling business. In the semi-finals of the tournament, the once-great Express were scheduled to face off with the Samoan Swat Team, Samu and Fatu,, managed by the legendary Paul E. Dangerously. It was Dangerously who made the midnight express lose their momentum in the business. Cornette’s jealousy of the “psychoyuppie” had career, and those of his men, Bobby and Stan, so eliminating Paul E. and his tremendous specimens from the sport. Fans, who are far from astute, sided with Midnights and Cornette and, surprisingly, Bobby, Stan and Cornette started pandering to these idiots and wrestling by the rules. Soon, the SST was top-ranked and the Midnights were on the scrap heap. THis match in Ft. Bragg would finish off one team or the other. The express won the match when the almighty Road Warriors, who had a score to settle with Samu and Fatu, interfered in the match, setting up Bobby and Stan for a tainted victory which put them in the final match against the winner if the Duds-Freebirds match. That saw the Freebird team win when Terry Gordy helped out, just a little bit. 

So, later on in the show, the Midnight Express were to meet the Freebirds for the NWA World Tag Team Championships. The Midnight Express made their way to ringside and then all hell broke loose! Paul E. Dangerously, looking to get some revenge on the cheating thieves, attacked Cornette with a tennis racket, giving the cretin a taste of his own medicine. Cornette was knocked as cold as some of the fools he had cold-cocked, and was lying on the concrete floor, next to the ring. The Express chased Paul E. away and tried to revive their manager, but the referee told Bobby and Stan they had to get in the ring and wrestle, so the Dynamic Duds were summed from the back and they carried Cornette back to the dressing room, leaving the Midnights alone in the ring, without their manager, for the first time in a long, long time. Without their manager watching their backs, the Express lost when Terry Gordy gave Bobby Eaton a “Power Bomb”, when the referee wasn’t looking, and Jimmy Garvin pinned the eunuch to take those straps.

[Jim Cornette is only advising The Dudes and still only manages one team, The Midnight Express.]

Nobody knew just how seriously hurt James E. Cornette was, it was thought he had suffered a concussion but, in reality, the blow to the head from Paul E.’s tennis racket caused extensive brain damage! That’s right, brain damage. A look at developments since that day prove this to be true. How else can anyone explain why Jame E. Cornette would associate with a pair of wimps like the Dynamic Duds, much less advise them in their matches? In the meantime, Cornette has insulted the Midnight Express to the point of no return and the break-up of the trio is inevitable. 

Stan Lane has a problem with Johnny Ace. Both are noted beach bums and womanizers. While hanging around Daytona Beach, Lane met a girl, she fell in love, Stand was in lust. Unknowingly to Stan, this same bimbo frequented Ft. Myers and Clearwater beaches on Florida’s West Coast (Daytona is on Florida's East Coast) and, at one of those beaches, this girl met Johnny Ace, then with the Florida wrestling establishment. Ace fell in love with her and the bimbo was in lust. She knew she had it made, but she was stupid and didn’t know how to juggle two men at once. She had to make a decision, and m since she was a beach bum too, she had no brains to choose Johnny Ace instead of the real man, Stan. Sweet Stan was insulted, to say the least. He was a star, Johnny Ace was nobody, and he was handsome, Johnny Ace was a Dude, he couldn’t understand what this wench saw in him. 

Stand didn’t need her, he could get any girl he wanted, but he knew someday his path would cross with Ace and Ace would pay his dues. Someday came soon as Johnny Ace turned his back on his fans and became a Dynamic Dud with Shane (What a Shame) Douglas. Immediately, these two cretins started pandering to the teenybopping idiots in the NWA crowds and made them have feelings their under-utilized bodies knew nothing about. Stand saw what was going on and was appalled. Here Ace had this beautiful woman and, still, he played around with Teenybopping Trouble infesting the audience. 

[The Midnight Express no longer trusted their manager, Jim Cornette, after he cost them a match at “Halloween Havoc”.]

The Express had business to take care of, they couldn’t care less about the Dynamic Duds. Those two weren’t going anywhere in the NWA anyway, so Stan and Bobby had no reason to associate with the losers. Then, one day, James E Cornette made a surprise announcement and revealed his debilitating disease, for the first time, to the public. Cornette told the world that he would be advising the Duds from now on, they showed promise to be Champions and just needed some good guidance to get there. While he was advising the Duds, he was still only managing one team, The Midnight Express. Needless to say, Stan and Bobby were appalled. They spent their entire careers eliminating cream-puff tag teams from the sport, now their manager wanted them to associate with one, and, of course, Stand had already been stabbed in the back by one of the losers on the team. Stan and Bobby were incensed! How could their manager, who they trusted so much, do this to them?!

Things got worse from there.The Express had a scheduled Tag Team Title match with the Freebirds in Roanoke, VA. The match got out of hand and James E. Cornette summoned the Duds from the back to help the Express out. Stan and Bobby never needed help before to take care of business and they certainly didn’t need these two cretins’ help. They were insulted when the Duds hit the ring. After cleaning house, Bobby and Stan refused to shake the Duds’ hands and left the ring, leaving Cornette and the Duds behind. Then a short time later, it was signed a Title match for his men against The Freebirds. Stan and Bobby, Naturally, thought , since Cornette managed them, it was their shot, but no, Cornette stabbed his team in the back and gave it to the Duds. Needless to say, Bobby and Stan were extremely angry. They knew they were on their own now and couldn’t trust their own manager.

The Duds-Freebirds match was scheduled for the “Halloween Havoc” show which was held in Philadelphia, Pa. Stan and Bobby were consigned to the prelims, teamed with Steve “Dr. Death” Williams, against the SST, along with their new teammate, The Samoan Savage, and their new manager, Sir Oliver Humperdink. The Express came to the ring to rousing cheers from the astute Philadelphians. The three favorites more than held their own in this match, until all hell broke loose once again. A six-way brawl in the ring was made into an eight man brawl when James E. and the Hump got into it on the ring apron and let the match continue. The new Cornette just stood on the ring apron and pandered to the humanoids. The brawl continued on the right and a Samoan whipped Stan into the ropes, right where Cornette was. Stan’s head hit Cornette’s tennis racket and tan was knocked out, as the Samoans got an easy pin and victory. When Stan woke up, he was livid! Not only does his manager stab him in the back, but the man costs his own team the match because of carelessness. After a brief argument, Stan and Bibby left Cornette in the ring and went back to the dressing room, alone. About an hour later, James E. Cornette brought the Dynamic Duds to the ring to face the mighty Freebirds. What an appalling sight!! The astute fans in Philadelphia were incensed, the Midnights are their favorite team, they hate wimps like the Duds. They booed the Duds unmercifully, while they cheered the Freebirds team onto victory. On TV, fat Jim Ross tried to ignore the astuteness of the Philly fans, according to reports, he said that Michael Hates paid his friends to come to the Civic Center to cheer for his team. Not so, the fans know when someone is getting a raw deal and they knew how to Express (HAHA!!) their displeasure. With the fans’s support, the Might Champions finished off the Duds’ unwarranted title contentions claim. 

[After Jim Cornette got the Dynamic Dudes a World Title Shot, The Express thought they were all alone in the wrestling world, without a manager.]

The next week on TBS, Gordon Solie was surprised to discover that the Duds were signed to a match against The Midnight Express. He called Jim Cornette to the microphone to explain his actions in scheduling his two teams against each other. Cornette professed innocence, he didn't sign the contracts for the match. It was then that “Sweet Stan” confessed, he wanted the Duds in the ring and he forged Cornette’s name on the contract and Stan wanted to know which team James E. Cornette would manage, the winners-The Midnight Express, or the losers-The  Dynamic Duds. Cornette said he’s think it over. 

The following week Cornette came out and said he would be in a neutral corner in this match and wouldn’t manage either team. What Cornette didn’t tell the world is he’s having his head X-rayed to see if he can get rid of the constant headaches he’s been suffering for the past several months. Come November 15th, in Troy, N.Y. at the “New York Knockout-Clash of the Champions IX”, the fateful encounter between the Duds and the immortal Midnight Express will take place. Jim Cornette will be in a neutral corner. The backstabbing thief has been known to in interfere in matches before. Let’s just hope he doesn’t do anything to hurt the Midnight Express and their careers.

[nervouscupcakeinspace]

BTS FIC RECS (PART 2)

Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope

Don't Get Charmed by shikiso

When an injured omega is found on their territory, Jungkook's instincts scream danger. He is the pack's omega, they don't need another one. Jungkook is doing a good enough job by himself, protecting the den and soothing the tension off everybody's shoulders.

Why is the pack so adamant on keeping that useless omega in ?

They have Jungkook, they don't need Hoseok.

Why can't they even see his little game ? Hoseok definitely knows how to play the scared and helpless omega. But, if he manages to trick everybody, he can't trick Jungkook. He is immune to his sweet scent and sweeter eyes.

He won't fall into his trap.

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin

Omega Drip by sugamongoose

Park Jimin is the kind of alpha who makes you coffee and asks about your day before reducing his partner to a crying, writhing mess on his organic cotton sheets. He doesn't even seem to care one bit that Jungkook is a broken omega who doesn't get wet when he's supposed to.

“Are you busy right now, alpha?” Jungkook asks, holding his breath in anticipation. He can already visualise getting on his knees for the smaller man, can imagine those soft-looking hands petting his hair in approval when he shows just how good his mouth is.

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Namjoon | RM

Every Kind of Way by Oh_Hey_Tae

And then he realizes, quite belatedly, that he’s not supposed to be shaking the hand of the barista. Because that’s weird. And uncalled for. And really, really weird.

So Jungkook draws back his arm, grips the straps of his backpack, and promptly flees the building without a word spoken. Which is fine. Sometimes you have to get out of awkward social situations and blacklist particular cafés and adjust your route to school to avoid said café and the barista with the heart shaped face and his sweet pea scented hands. It happens.

“Jungkook-ah, meet Kim Namjoon.”

And sometimes during your bi-weekly dinner one of your good friends introduces you to said barista with the terribly soft hands who also happens to be getting his masters in social work to help underprivileged youth in inner city neighborhoods. Which is fine. This is fine. Jungkook is doing just fine.

 (Or: Jungkook adores everything about Namjoon except that the man can't catch a clue.)

Here Is What I Know by Oh_Hey_Tae

There are flowers growing on Namjoon’s arm. They aren’t real flowers, of course. That would be absurd. Impossible. Ridiculous. But Namjoon spends most of his lecture on Kant watching the garden of ink bloom on his skin, beginning at his pinkie and spreading across his wrist, trickling down to his elbow, curling up and around his bicep and out of sight under the sleeve of his shirt. Irises and peonies and roses and sunflowers. The girl who’s sitting beside him is staring, and when caught, gives Namjoon a bright-eyed grin before glancing back to the board. Namjoon spots a faded smiley face inked into the skin of her thumb, what looks to be a grocery list scrawled over the back of her hand. Notes or reminders from her soulmate maybe. Soulmates. Huh. It looks like Namjoon has one of those now.

try to resist, i still want it all by exarite

At first, Namjoon doesn’t think much of him.

He looks familiar, but he’s too far away for Namjoon to really see or scent out his dynamic. He’s cute, but Namjoon's not new to cute boys either. He's far too used to handsome, and pretty, and everything in between in the industry.

But then he stands up. Namjoon's eyes catch on the swell of his belly, and every nerve in his body lights up, his mind going blank, and—

Oh, he breathes. He's pregnant.

::

Namjoon fucks a pregnant Jungkook.

just let me adore you by elle_O_moonchild *

Rockstar omega Jungkook has never let an alpha tie him down. He was independent, and happy, and had no need for a domineering knothead to mess up his career and lifestyle.

But powerful and wealthy alpha Namjoon only wants to spoil the pretty omega rotten.

or

A smitten alpha Namjoon gets a weary omega Jungkook to go on a date with him and shows him just how good they can be together…

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Seokjin | Jin

more and more and more by moonsuns

"If you haven’t had sex by the time you’re twenty, then I’ll have sex with you. That way you’ll have a guaranteed end date for your virginity.”

“Do you promise, hyung?”

"I promise."

The problem was, Seokjin never expected to be called on it.

you shouldn't give it to me (good like that) by jamaisvore

opposites in the eyes of the media, but a perfect match in each other's arms.

or: supermodel!jk x rockstar!jin

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM

Pull Me Under by Oh_Hey_Tae

It’s been two weeks. Hoseok has managed to survive two weeks of Kim Namjoon’s progressively darkening thighs and his cheek craters and his swooshy hair and that stupid laugh he does that makes him sound like a bleating sheep.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder. Stares. Slowly draws his gaze back to Hoseok. “Are we discussing the same man who tried to brush his teeth with sunscreen yesterday?”

“Ew, he did that?”

“Your voice says that’s disgusting but your face says you’re enamored.”

Hoseok presses his palms against his eyes until he sees colored spots. “Make it stop, hyung.”

  (Or: Hoseok works at a summer resort and Namjoon is the newest lifeguard. Chaos ensues.)

fall underneath by crycoby

“Is this secretly about your huge crush on Namjoon?” Jimin asks, his fingers digging into the back of Hoseok’s neck in a way that is frankly criminal. “You know that if you like him, you’re going to have to be more direct. He doesn’t like to assume things about people and… He overthinks a lot,” he finally settles on diplomatically.

Hoseok groans, half because of the pressure and half because the idea of talking about this, about any of this, about any of the gnarled mess that is the clutch of Hoseok’s emotions in the knot of his chest, gives him hives.

//

hoseok could talk about his big messy feelings about namjoon, or he could talk around them instead and just hope for the best. yeah. that sounds good.

Methods of Mutual Stress Relief by Only_A_Fangirl

Hoseok cringes, “How weird would it be if I actually asked to jerk off in here with you?”

“Very,” Namjoon answers instantly.

Hoseok nods, “You can choose the porn.”

Namjoon blinks, “Are you for real?”

lyre lyre lyre by oliviacirce

Namjoo regrets every life choice that has led her here, to the hard wooden floor of this dance studio, where she's lying on her back like a beached whale.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Taehyung | V

the long and winding road by moonsuns

Hoseok is (basically) forced to go on vacation and leave his stressful idol life behind, at least for a little while. He wasn't expecting to find Taehyung, that's for sure. (He's glad he did, though.)

Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin

Procurement by FlyYouFools1 (WIP) *

Seokjin and Namjoon have waited decades for a little of their own. Taehyung just wants to pay for his little brother's education.

Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Taehyung | V

Dandelion Love (part of the (Not) Destined series) by almostsophie1

Taehyung is twenty-one when the word on his wrist turns ashen. The kind of love that soulmates share is forever out of reach.

(But enter one Kim Namjoon, who doesn't think the same.)

Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga

Bleeding Love by beebalm

Yoongi was already dressed and halfway to the door, nothing but a dry chuckle and a See you around when Namjoon asked for his number.

OR

It's not that Namjoon is hurt Yoongi only ever wanted him for a one night stand. And he doesn't have a crush. He just wishes they didn't have to keep seeing each other all the time.

Kim Namjoon | RM/Park Jimin

but i want it anyway by ameliabedelias *

Park Jimin’s roommate goes to study abroad for a semester. Kim Namjoon takes over the lease.

only lingering around you by moonsuns 

“I don't. I mean...this is going to sound awkward, but I’m...not really looking for a relationship right now.”

Namjoon considers, for a moment, elaborating and telling Jimin about everything with Hoseok, but there wouldn't be any point in that. And also, Namjoon is pretty sure that Jimin doesn't care about any of that anyway.

And he's right. At this, Jimin outright laughs. It isn’t a mean laugh, but Namjoon is pierced by the sound anyway. “Who said anything about a relationship, or even feelings? It’s just sex.”

Or, Namjoon and Jimin are friends with benefits.

Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga

운명 (Fate) (part of the (Not) Destined series) by almostsophie1

Yoongi is part of that three percent population left without a soulmate word. It doesn't matter if he falls in love, because love isn't meant for people like him.

(Then he meets Seokjin.)

candy on my lips (part of the just desserts series) by moonbabie

Anonymous advice columnist and baby bi Kim Sujin meets queer club president Min Yoonji, and does the following: writes some cheesy advice columns, cuts her hair, and figures out her shit. (aka a queer romcom meets emotional constipation, self-discovery, and clueless wlw)

Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin

pull me closer in the backseat of your rover by moonsuns

Jimin had just wanted to get off. He didn't think he'd end up with a boyfriend at the end of it all.

Or, another friends with benefits AU.

Nip & Bloom by sugamongoose (WIP) *

The year is 2021, and yet traditional and oppressive views of alpha/omega relations run rampant in the Korean society. Unmated Park Jimin is placed in a government programme which pairs delinquent omegas with support mates to make them more comfortable in their submission. Jimin’s alpha for six months turns out to be Min Yoongi, a tiny music producer who wears fuzzy sweaters, and who won’t stop talking about his kitten Holly.

“You look like an omega,” Jimin blurts out. The strange alpha flashes him a smile that reveals the pink of his gums. “Is that something you prefer? I saw your file, and it said you identify as queer.” “Oh, you looked at my file just to see if I like to fuck other omegas? Knot swelling yet?”

POLY RELATIONSHIPS

OT7 - Relationship

indiscentsible by cloudyworld *

Jungkook had been a little disappointed when, after all the build-up and speculation, he'd presented as a beta. Betas are great! They play an important role in society: level-headed, big-picture thinkers, the solid foundation that holds everyone together. But that pull of instinct that comes with being an alpha or omega, the feeling of belonging... He was crushed at the thought he might never get to have that.

In a pack with three alphas and three omegas already, presenting beta was a gift; Jungkook learns to see that too.

Precious Mettle by glitterandgilt (WIP) *

Jin loved his nest. He'd built it very carefully from the ground up. Spent centuries on selecting the individuals he wanted to spend the rest of his immortal life with. He was proud of his nest and protected it with a possessive love that rivaled a dragon's guard on their trove.

Jin didn't get the chance to go through that evaluation process with his newest treasure. But he would never let it go.

Or

When Jin's blood is stolen and used to sire a new fledgling, Jin has two choices: to ignore the strands of magic binding him to his new childe, or to lay claim to another jewel for his collection. He chooses the latter and drags his entire nest into a situation none of them were anticipating.

Kim's Seven by Gobi17 (WIP) *

Jungkook, 17 year old YouTuber, is in awe of the 6 hot boys who have adopted him online.

Bangtan are a dangerous group of vigilantes who seize the opportunity to kidnap the stepson of their latest target.

Found Kin by Adaptive_Artist (WIP)

Jungkook is starving. Food doesn't make anything better, and his teeth ache like someone is hammering on them. He thought he was cursed. Turns out he's a hatchling kin, and is now the precious baby of the renowned Kim nest. He's also growing little fangs.

Huh.

love bites (series) by feraljk (WIP) 

Summary from the first fic:

newly-turned vampire jungkook still has a lot to learn, but his hyungs are there to help him. taehyung enlists yoongi and jin to teach the fledgling how to teethe and helps him discover how much of a bonding activity teething can be.

or: trans koo and tae teeth on their hyungs and also come

Isn't it lovely? (all alone) by hopefully2020

At age eighteen, all citizens are given a concentration that will determine their fields of study. A small empty square on their wrist will gain a color corresponding to their skill set. Everyone’s fear is that their square color is black, meaning they are destined for a life of crime. When Jungkook turns eighteen, he waits anxiously for his square to gain color, only to be presented with a blank square. He is shunned by his family, having to struggle through high school while trying to figure out what to do for the rest of his life. Jungkook's life gets flipped upside down on the day of his twenty-first birthday when the store he works at is robbed with Jungkook at the cash register. Fearing for his life he believes he is going to die, only to be saved by a figure in black with a mask covering his face. To make things even worse, Jungkook suddenly becomes the target of one of the largest drug syndicates, solely because of his new connection to his savior and five other men who turn out to be the biggest crime lords in Seoul. What happens then, you ask? Well, then the blank world Jungkook always saw starts to drip with black, just a little bit.

blueberry peaches (a serendipitous summer) by elle_O_moonchild (WIP)

Jungkook spends a life changing summer working at a beachside car wash and meets 6 new lovers who change his heart and life forever.

Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM 

Falling For an Alien From Amalthea 5 by Pyotr_Keats78 (WIP)

Jungkook has been in and out of the hospital for years with various medical problems. Eventually, his heart becomes so weak that no human medicine can save him. Believing he will die never having come out as trans to anyone, he gives up. That is until his brother Jimin tells him, “You have two choices, Jungah: you can stay here in this hospital and get high every day until your heart fails you, or you can go to Amalthea, grow a parasite, and live.”

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin

Mentoring on Marsa by FlyYouFools1

Jungkook comes to the planet Marsa after being promised a full scholarship to Marsa National University. When the scholarship falls through, his academic advisor gives him the number for a mentoring service for newly stranded omegas on Marsa. With rent due, no way home, and no success in finding a job, Jungkook calls the number. The organization sends him Min Yoongi, a fellow omega who's been living on Marsa for 8 years. Yoongi teaches him how to survive. Jungkook's first attempt at survival is alpha couple Jimin and Taehyung.

Features: Yoongi doing his best to teach Jungkook how to manage handsy alphas, handsy alphas (like all of them are touchy) taking liberties with omega protagonists, and my best attempt at writing problematic but entertaining sex. A lot of fluff too, actually. The alphas are fluffy as hell with the omegas, and pamper them a lot, even though their actual behavior is wrong.

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V/Min Yoongi | Suga

November (series) by cuttothequickk 

Summary from the first fic: 

Sometimes, Jeongguk gets so lonely he doesn't even feel alone anymore. He's practicing, and he's very good at it. Loneliness. Being alone. It's blustery cold, and the leaves are falling from the branches of trembling trees, and Jeongguk is alone in a big city, shivering without a jacket, trying desperately to keep himself warm.

There is no one, and then there is someone. Two someones. The lovely winter boys from Daegu, Taehyung and Yoongi, opposites and equals, so loving and in love.

It would be ridiculous, really, if Jeongguk didn't fall for them, too.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga

how, or when, or from where by moonsuns

“Stop calling it my quest,” Namjoon whines, and Hoseok laughs.

“You’re the one that said it first.”

“I was drunk.”

“Well, the bad thing about going out with people, is that you can’t take back the stupid shit you said when you were drunk. Especially when they’re way less drunk than you.”

Or, after Namjoon almost dies, he decides to go on a quest to live his best life, and takes Yoongi and Hoseok along for the ride.

(* Personal favorites)

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 1

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[shakespearesdrugdealer]

Just friends

Minors DNI.

Pairings: College AU. College!Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (fingering), swearing, is fluff a warning?

A/N: Okayy, so this a college AU with a friends with benefits dynamic. I wanted to make this a slow burn so I'll see where it leads lol.

Enjoy!

He was kissing your neck and you were adjusting yourself under him to allow him to move further down. He didn’t smell like himself; his cologne was mixed with someone else’s. You were supposed to be okay with that though, because you guys were just friends after all. You were there for each other while doing homework, working on labs together, going bowling on the weekends, grabbing coffee and when the teenage hormonal urge came to indulge in each other’s body; well, a month ago you agreed to that too.

“Look, despite the movies, I think it could work,” Gojo proposed.

“What makes you think that?” you narrow your eyes at him from across the lab counter you guys were sitting at, trying to compile a report you messed up twice by now.

Chemistry was hard. But Gojo was making it harder for both of you right now by asking unnecessary questions to push a few boundaries in your friendship.

“The fact that you are pretty objective, and that we are both have needs,” he said, adding a playful drawl on the last word.

“No,” you pointed out firmly, hesitating to meet the eyes that were set at looking into yours. “You have needs, I on the other hand would like to finish this report and go to sleep.”

“See, that could easily be turned into a better end to your day if you go to sleep with me,” he countered, putting his hand on the calculator you were punching numbers into; forcing you to lift your head up and look at him with a frustrated but amused expression.

“Is this really the time to talk about this?” you huffed, trying to free your hand while trying hard and failing at controlling the heat spreading to your face.

“No time better than the present lovie.”

“Not your lovie,” you emphasized, sitting back onto your chair and giving up at the notion of finishing your lab. When Gojo is being stubborn about something, there were not a lot of ways to solve the problem but give in and listen; like right now, with his absurd idea.

But was it really absurd though? You guys have been friends for a good while now, 2 years to be exact. You liked how he could go on for ages talking about the ridiculous things he did at college that day and you wouldn’t mind listening because it allowed you to see the day outside of your own world. Maybe it was because your life lacked a little chaos and his lacked the calm and organization of yours; but you worked well with each other. He dragged you out of the dorm on days you got obsessed with completing your readings and you were grateful for the sun that you got. You also dragged him back into the dorm on nights you knew were meant for rest, or studying instead of getting wasted with the kids who had already completed their tests for that week.

“Look, all I’m saying is, let’s try it out, and if it fails…” he stretched out of his chair like he was doing some kind of tedious work (like the fucking report you guys were supposed to write). “Well, at least we will know where that road leads to.”

His standing figure made you look so small you wanted to punch him in the throat. But you also felt safe?

It’s not like you were completely against the idea. I mean, you knew him pretty well; you knew what kind of a person he was. You understood that he makes a great friend, but he would probably break your heart and chuck it in the bag of broken hearts he carries around with him. And let’s not lie, he’s hot. You’ve seen how his shirt rides up when he leans back against the pillows on your bed on the days he drops by your dorm to annoy you. You also hate how you can’t stop yourself from staring at how his eyes widen and sparkle when he finds something interesting in the material he’s reading when you guys are studying together. You knew there was a thin line between being his friend, working well together, him being so fucking attractive and you falling in love with him, God forbid.

Well, maybe you could walk that thin line. “If we fail, we never talk about it again okay?” you started, framing the rules of your relationship in your head.

“Yup,” he agreed, liking where this conversation was headed.

“There are going to be rules of course.”

“Mhhm.”

“No talk of this outside the two of us.” You look at him dead serious.

“Yep yep.”

“And you have to stop being so fucking annoying when we do what we do,” you added.

“Meh, no promises,” he shrugged.

“Okay, well, it looks like we’ve come to some kind of an agreement even though this report is not done,” you sighed closing your book at the realization that the time you signed up for the lab had elapsed.

“Hey,” Gojo said, clearing his throat. Was he nervous? You glanced at him while trying to gather your things into your bag.

“Do you wanna test the agreement?”

“What?” you pause your actions at the offer. “Now?”

“I mean, I see nothing stopping us,” he reasoned. “And we can finish the report at the dorm too.”

“How do you plan for these bribes to work with me?” you smile at his offer to work in exchange of doing the dirty.

“What can I say lovie, I’m a bit of a genius when it comes to being a slut.” Only Gojo could imbue so much confidence into being a slut.

“Again,” you said, “not your lovie.” You push your bag into his chest as a sign of agreement and head towards the lab door. He caught up with you in no time, cradling your bag in his arms and smiling stupidly wide like he won at an arcade game at the fair. You didn’t know if what was going to follow was a disaster or the start of something better than anything you two ever knew.

He didn’t even wait for you guys to settle into your room or talk about how your relationship was going to work before throwing your bag onto the bed and backing you up against your door and pressing his lips against yours to let you know how the next few hours of your day were going to go. And oh my god, they were going to go so fucking good.

“Is this okay?” he asked, pulling away from your lips and twisting the lock on your door with his free hand.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, embarrassed and a little confused at how quickly this day was taking a whole new turn.

“Wanna say that again?” he teased swiping his thumb across your cheek while tilting your head to look at you properly.

“Just-” you swallowed. You’ve never seen his eyes look like this, even after all this time with him. They had their usual playful glint in them, the kind that normally makes you want to shove him through a locker (not that you haven’t tried) but right now there was something more. Something that made you want to run but also give into his touch and the patterns he was drawing on the small of your back with his other hand. “Just…take it slow okay?” you ask, hoping he understood that you hadn’t done something like this in a while now.

He knew that though. You talked about your first times over a drunk Friday evening and that was when he figured you hadn’t done as much as him and you also figured that Gojo was a threat to womankind.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, taking your hands into his and leading you towards the bed. His eyes never left yours and you weren’t done tasting his lips just yet, so you stare at them with unabashed desire. “Oh, my eyes are up here love,” he said, pausing his movements to take in this side of you he hadn’t seen before.

“Shut up,” you retort, a little annoyed at how quickly he had you feeling so hot and bothered. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tippy-toes to pull him down to meet your lips as he groans into the kiss in surprise. You don’t know what it was that got into you, but you pushed him to walk to the edge of the bed as your tugged at the hem of his shirt to let him know you wanted it on the floor. He was breathing hard too by this point; his hand cupping your neck and the other finding its way under your shirt. He laughs at your attempt to lift his shirt and removes his hands from your body for a moment to take his shirt off. Your eyes widen at the view you were presented with. Your hands reach for his chest but he grabs your wrists, tilting his head in amusement. “Kinda unfair if yours doesn’t come off too no?”

And that’s how you found his hands slipping under your shirt and around your back, leaving goosebumps at his touch. He unhooked your bra and lifted the set of clothing from your body, leaving you hazy from all the kisses that he was planting along your jawline and neck. He pulled your hands that were stroking his chest to interlock with his fingers as he used your momentary confusion to push you onto your bed and hover over you in one clumsy but simultaneously smooth maneuver.

He was reveling in this side of you that you were showing. It was chaotic, it was vulnerable and most of all, it was so beautiful. His hands release yours as he finds interest in playing with your breasts. He takes hold of your left breast and squeezes it as you whine and twist your head into the pillows at his teasing and the lack of attention that was being paid to your areas down south. You pull at the white strands of his hair you had slid your fingers into and he groans into your skin making you shudder. He opens his lips to the side of your neck that you gave space to and bites down as a response to your own roughness. The moan that escapes your mouth makes you want to hide in embarrassment as he chuckles into the mark he was leaving.

Your chest was heaving, as your hands grab at the sheets next to you instead to find some kind of stability among the fireworks that his touch was leaving. “Gojo-” you started, lifting your head from the pillow, to see him smirking at you. He moves down towards your stomach and thighs, making sure to kiss the curves and edges and taking note of the areas he kissed and you moaned at. “I will kill you if you don’t stop teasing.” You drop back onto the pillow again, not being able to hold for too long as his fingers stroke your inner thighs, taking off the last article of clothing you had on.

He leans forward, looking at you with your eyes fluttering shut and fidgeting around his hold on you. “Aw, cute,” he says, stroking your thighs and brushing his fingertips around your clit, not touching it but making it more sensitive than you would have ever imagined. “You can still threaten me looking like this.” You push your head deeper into the pillows at the sensation of the butterfly kisses he was placing on your inner thighs and sucking at the sensitive skin to leave his marks yet again.

“I swear to God-” you plead, threading your hands into his hair again. “Patience, pretty,” he says, lifting his head from between your legs to allow his fingers to take their place and rub at your clit in tiny circles. You gasp and have the urge to shut your legs but he has one of his legs secured between yours and you really wanted him to keep going too. “Think you’re ready for me?” he asks, running his index and middle finger along the outer area of your slits.

you nod at him, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You were getting hazy from circles he was drawing on your clit with his middle finger and moving it down to tease your entrance.

“Words, love,” he says, shifting to lean above you and place a kiss to your lips and chest that was heaving roughly by now.

“I-I’m ready,” you softly reply, looking into his eyes and then at his smile that reminded you that he was your safety and also the person that was going to ruin in the next few minutes.

“Tell me to stop when you want to okay?” He assures you as he slides his fingers between your slits to feel your wetness.

“Mhmm,” is all you can say as you feel his middle finger play around your entrance before finding its way against your walls. You breathe sharply at the feeling of his finger pulling in and out slowly, to explore its way around you. But it was also making you so hot-headed as it hit all the right corners and spaces. He swallows your moans with his lips and tries to steady your body by sucking at your nipples. But it only made your head cloudier and you let go of any control of the sounds that were coming out of you.

Your back arches with an audible whimper escaping your chest at Gojo’s attempt to curl his finger against your walls and he smirks, knowing what he just did. He continues the curling motions and tests your limit by nudging a second finger at your entrance. You yelp at the tight feeling of your walls against his fingers. “Fuck,” you spread your legs wider as a sign of giving in to his movements completely. He was entranced by the pretty sounds coming out of you and the way your hips were moving up and down his fingers trying to chase the knot that was tightening at the bottom of your stomach.

He speeds up the movements of his fingers, moving in and out of you. You let out soft cries at how he wasn’t letting you get a moment of rest between the feeling of his mouth against the sensitive spots on your neck and breasts mixed with the madness that was occurring between your legs. “Gojo, I can’t-” you say in a shaky cry at the way your walls were tightening against his fingers. He pushes you further with his thumb rubbing faster against your clit and you just about lose it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a strangled moan leaving your lips

“Hey pretty girl, wanna let go for me?” he whispers as he looks at your desperate eyes. You nod feverishly as he continues his motions, and he hoists one of your legs further apart to rest on his lap. You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and the tingling on your clit getting borderline painful. You snap your palm on Gojo’s wrist trying to fight the feeling but he doesn’t relent. And with the next few motions of his fingers curling against you while he bit into your neck a little too rough, you let out a strangled shriek and arch your back as your walls pulsate around his fingers at your orgasm.

He drank in the sight of you panting and your legs shaking from the orgasm. Your eyes were pinched shut and one of your hands had the sheets tightly tucked into your fist and the other was squeezing his wrist that was still pumping his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm. He leans forward, in awe and with sense of adoration.

“You good?” he kissed the corner of your mouth and brushed the stray pieces of hair on the sides of your face to place more chaste kisses across your cheeks and moving to your neck. You hiss as he takes his fingers out of you and you are given an apology as he muffles your complaints with his lips pressing against yours. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at Gojo’s now tight pants. You smirk and shift to balance your figure on your elbows to meet his eyes.

You nod at the bulge through his pants. “Do you wanna do something about that or…?” you question reaching out to place your hands against his chest, and push him into sitting back onto the bed as you straddle him.

“I mean…if you can take it,” he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours, and squeezing your hips.

God, this may be a huge mistake or one of the greatest things you guys stumbled upon with each other.

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut so help me oh lords of smut; I hope I didn’t it mess up lol. I also really like this college AU so maybe I’ll continue it, idk.

Alsoo, the header I used here was got from pinterest but if it has sources to someone here on Tumblr, I would love to credit <3

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s “investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Hiii!! I really love your tumblr posts and I'm pretty new to the Batfam (meaning I have only read fics and textposts about them, no comics) and I wanted to ask about the year Bruce/Batman gets "lost in time". I know general things of what the kids have been doing–Dick became batman and fired Tim from robin, giving it to Damian, everyone thinking Tim was crazy for believing Bruce was alive, (don't really know what Jason was up to though, was he still murderous towards Tim? Does the pit still affect him? Also I have no idea about Cass and Duke, were they introduced at this point??) Anyways, my real question was why was Bruce lost in time, what villain put him there? And how did he get out? And how long was he "dead"? Was Bruce in another reality or like just asleep the whole time? Oh! And how soon did this happen after Damian got introduced to the family–a couple months?

I'm so sorry this is so long, but I hope you answer and thank you!!

(I’m going to try and cover all my bases here by going into how exactly Bruce “died,” what went down during the Battle For the Cowl, what the Batkids did while Bruce was gone, and how Bruce came back. Hopefully it all makes sense?? We’ll see how it goes lmao.)

Part 1 - What Happened to Bruce:

So there was this event called Final Crisis (which I won’t go completely into since it would make this post a million times longer than it already is), but the bottom line is that Darkseid wants to overthrow reality and release his Anti-Life Equation, which would overthrow the whole planet and turn everyone into slaves. (If you’re interested in knowing more about the storyline, here’s a Reddit thread that explains it WAY better than I could.) 

What I CAN tell you is that during his final confrontation with Darkseid, Bruce is hit by an Omega Beam and turned into a burnt chicken nugget killed. Poor guy.

Final Crisis #6

Clark and Diana bring the body back to the Batcave and break the news to the Batfamily. Batman #687 covers a good portion of the aftermath such as Bruce’s funeral, the Batfamily grieving, and Dick coming to terms with his new responsibility of becoming Batman.

Batman #687

Part 2 - Battle For the Cowl: 

Musical chairs time, fellas! After word gets out that Batman is gone, Gotham erupts into chaos. Dick doesn’t want to take over the mantle, Tim needs Dick to take over the mantle, and Jason says “fuck it” and takes over the mantle himself because somebody around here has to. He becomes this murderous psychopathic Batman and starts taking out criminals with deadly force because someone’s gotta do the job, so it might as well be him.

Batman: Battle For the Cowl #1

(Okay honestly, this series had some pretty bad characterization overall, which sucks since it’s such an important storyline. Jason is portrayed as this violent psychopath, which...okay, he was kind of insane after the Pit and all, but not to this degree. Personally, I choose to owe the bad characterization to Bruce’s death because as much as Jason resents Bruce for all he’s done, he does still love him and losing him would be devastating, which would exacerbate his already fragile mental health. As for Damian, this happens roughly three years after his first appearance, so we can assume it’s been a few months since he first joined the family. He’s still relatively new at this point, so nobody knows how to write him yet. He ends up being depicted as if his main two personality traits are Bratty and Assassin-Child and that’s it. It’s all just a mess.)

Anyway, Tim tells Dick to become Batman and stop Jason’s reign of terror. Dick says no, so Tim follows Jason’s lead by saying “fuck it” and putting on the cowl himself. He goes to confront Jason, which ends in Jason beating the crap out of him (again) and leaving him for dead after Tim declines his offer to become Jason’s Robin. Dick goes to save Tim and ends up fighting Jason. 

Battle For the Cowl #3

Dick wins, Jason disappears, Tim is fine, and Dick finally gets his head out of his ass and becomes Batman. 

Part 3 - What Happens to Each Batkid While Bruce is “Dead”?:

Dick: 

As I said, Dick becomes the new Batman a month after Bruce’s death. He’s got big shoes to fill, and it takes some time for him to get used to his new role. He and Damian end up flipping around the classic Batman and Robin dynamic, with Batman now as the fun counterpart to Robin’s edginess. Dick, Damian, and Alfred relocate to the penthouse above the Wayne Foundation building, operating out of a secret Bat-Bunker in the basement.

Batman #688

Jason: 

After Battle For the Cowl, Jason is still batshit insane and determined to make Dick’s already stressful life even harder by becoming a supervillain with an ugly costume and an even uglier hairstyle. (I know it’s just because the artist sucked, but still. Jason is horrifying to look at during this time.) He mostly just gets on Dick’s nerves by running around Gotham with his new sidekick Scarlet and killing criminals as Batman and Robin wannabes. Eventually, Dick has Jason committed to Arkham Asylum and he hangs out there until Bruce returns.

Batman and Robin (2009) #5

Tim: 

Tim...doesn’t do great after Bruce’s death, mentally. Dick makes Damian Robin, his reasoning being that Robin is more of a sidekick and he sees Tim as his equal. By making Damian Robin, Dick hopes that it will give him the stability he needs to keep him from straying back toward the “bad” side. (It’s the right move ultimately, although his execution was pretty messed up since he didn’t discuss it with Tim beforehand, but he’s allowed to make mistakes. Dick’s father just died and now he’s in charge of picking up the pieces of their broken family. It’s a lot to handle.) 

Long story short, Tim has a breakdown, realizes that Bruce is alive, dons the Red Robin identity, and cuts ties with his family to travel the world in search of proof. It’s a rough time. 

Red Robin #1

Damian: 

Our little guy becomes Robin! So proud of him! As I explained earlier, Dick makes Damian his Robin with the assumption that it will keep him out of trouble, and he’s right on that account. He mentors Damian, teaching him how to channel his violent instincts into something productive, and it works! Slowly but surely, Damian makes the transition from bratty assassin to actual hero!

Batman and Robin (2009) #22

Cass:

Duke sadly was not introduced at this point in time, so he missed out on all the pandemonium. Cass, however, has been Batgirl for years by now, but she got kind of pushed aside by the writers after Bruce’s death. Bruce disappears shortly after adopting Cass, but once he was “dead,” the writers sort of moved Cass around for a while, not quite knowing what to do with her. First she was with the Outsiders. Then they got disbanded and Cass tried forming a new network of heroes to take over for Batman if needed. Then she helped out in said network during Battle for the Cowl, taking care of a newly ravaged Gotham. Then Cass gave the Batgirl mantle to Stephanie Brown after she became disillusioned with the role, thanks to the loss of her father and mentor. Then Cass picked up and moved to Hong Kong to “follow Bruce’s plans” by continuing whatever work he had set up for her there. It was all very vague and confusing, and Cass more or less got swept under the rug during this time. Thanks, writers.

Batgirl (2009) #1

Part 4 - How Bruce Came Back: 

When the Blackest Night storyline happens, the Justice League realizes that the corpse buried under Bruce’s grave is apparently not the real one and that he’s actually alive out there somewhere! How wild is that! This is further proven by Dick after he places Bruce’s body in a Lazarus Pit to revive, which has the same result because it’s very clearly Not Bruce and they should have listened to Tim from the start.

Batman and Robin (2009) #9

Anyway, what actually happened is that the Omega Beams that Darkseid shot at Bruce didn’t kill him, but rather blasted him back through time to the prehistoric era with his memories wiped. The Omega Energy inside of Bruce ends up catapulting him through various time periods, which is all part of Darkseid’s plan. With each time-hop, Bruce builds up more Omega Energy in his body which, when he gets back to his original time period, will be unleashed and destroy everything.

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #5

It’s been a little under two years since Final Crisis, though in-universe it’s uncertain exactly how long Bruce has been “dead.” We can assume it’s been a year, give or take. The way he comes back is too scientific and complicated for me to understand, so uhhhh the bottom line is that Tim and a few Leaguers save Bruce at the Vanishing Point and the day is saved! Hooray! 

Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #6

(If you want to read about how it actually goes down, then I seriously recommend reading Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. It’s only six issues, so it’s a quick read and it explains the situation far better than I ever could.)

Bruce eventually reunites with his family after spying on them for a period of time as Insider to see what has changed in his absence:

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home

After that, things quickly settle back into their new normal. Dick and Damian stay on as Batman and Robin. Bruce goes back to being Batman as well, with him handling Batman Incorporated business and Dick continuing as Gotham’s defender. Tim keeps the Red Robin outfit, Steph stays on as Batgirl, and Cass becomes Black Bat. Jason stays in Arkham for a while before filing an appeal to be moved to a regular prison. He kills 82 inmates in less than a week and gets transferred back to Arkham, which he promptly escapes from. It’s a ride, I tell ya.

Aaaaand that’s about it! I hope this answered all of your questions!

[theblvckvenus]

Wanting You

Summary: Peter Quint and you have a somewhat strained relationship so once he gets you alone he decides to stop the car and show you how he really feels.

Pairing: Peter Quint x Reader

Warning: NSFW, sub/dom, p*rn, choking, possession, dubcon, cursing, no protection, smoking

*18+ ONLY*

(A/N this is kinda effed but so is Peter so continue with caution pls)

You had been at Bly Manor for two months now, settled comfortably into the routine of the place. All the co-workers were friendly. More than friendly they made you feel like you truly belonged there, a feeling you hadn’t had in a while. The children were wonderful too but Flora could read faster than there were books in the manor’s library to support. You’d asked Peter to drive you into town to get some materials for her and he’d willingly obliged. It was the first time you had been alone since that night a week ago when you slept together. The trip had been uneventful but full of silences. Now you were speeding back towards Bly manor in time for afternoon lessons.

Glancing to the front seat your eyes met Peter’s in the mirror for a second before yours quickly darted away. He was cordial to you but there was something about him that put your hackles up. He was always watching you with that’s same hungry look, like he was waiting for you to give him something. Shivering at the thought you turned your attention to the fields outside and the country lane which was completely empty of cars other than your own.

Out of nowhere the car swerved to the side, pulling to a sharp stop on the edge of the road. Your face was a mask of quizzical anger as you looked to the figure in the frontseat, shocked into silence. Peter barely registered your reaction before he was out the car slamming the door loudly behind him, making you jump. You sat stunned in your seat not having the words yet. What the fuck was that? You opened the door stepping out to look at him.

“Why did we stop?’ You questioned confusion plain on your face as you stepped forward towards his tall figure.

Peter took a long and deliberate drag on his cigarette before turning his attention towards you. His gaze travelled up along the curves of your hips, waist and chest, before meeting your own hues. Your cheeks were flaming now, not masked well by your brown skin and you crossed your arms over your stomach as you did, as if to shield from his gaze.

‘Why did we stop?’ You repeated in a tone more uncertain now as the dynamic between you intensified. You had no idea what was going on, no way to get out of this field without him. He had all the control and you could tell how much he liked it.

‘You confuse me.’ He let the statement hang in the air as if it was so self-evident that you should easily glean what he meant. When you returned the same puzzled look to him Peter only chuckled before throwing the cigarette to the floor, turning to face you fully now. ‘You’re confusing, y/n. Since that night I’ve thought we were playing a game, cat and mouse. You like me. I want you. But you’re making me wait for it.’ The words caused that same heat to creep up your neck and across your body, everything feeling as though you were under a cloying sun. ‘And then today in the bookshop I saw how you looked at that teller. Well I saw the way he was looking at you.’ He almost spat the words out towards you, accompanied by more steps forward in the same prowling manner of a hungry beast.

As he closed the gap betwixt your bodies you felt suddenly aware of the discrepancy in your heights. His frame loomed almost an entire head above you, blocking the light out making Peter the only subject of your vision.

‘You want a loser like that? He doesn’t deserve to be in the same room as you.’ His voice cut down towards you through the air, sharp as a razor. He wasn’t even looking at you, eyes staring out to the field behind the road as he addressed the air. You could feel rage radiating off him. It shouldn’t excite you, what’s wrong with you.

‘I didn’t even notice him looking and yes Peter I... I want you.’ Those words got to him. Hearing you say it. He looked down eyes fervent with hopeful desire now, so full it almost broke your heart. He just wanted to be needed. To have someone.

‘Of course I want you.’ You repeated your voice stronger now. ‘I want you I just don’t want the others to-‘ The end of the sentence was lost to the ether as his lips found yours now, head bowing down to press a strong kiss upon you. His lips tasted like honey, addictive and sweet, searing against yours. You leant up to meet him in the embrace and his arms wrapped around your back to pull you in closer. One hand spanned the entirety of your lower back, lifting you further up to meet him. Locked against his chest you pulled back breathless from the kiss, a sudden ache present in the pit of your stomach.

Peter used his hips to walk you back towards the bonnet of the car, resting your frame against it as his kisses continued their nuzzling exploration of your neck. Your laugh trickled up into the crisp spring air and you captured your own wrists behind his head to hold yourself against him.

“Come on now Peter, someone will come along.” Your worlds were soft, not spoken with enough conviction to satisfy even yourself.

He didn’t even raise his head to furnish your statement with a reply. Peter’s hands slipped down to the material of your sundress moving under the skirt to run lightly up the warm skin of your thighs. The feel of your skin pliant beneath his fingers caused a low groan to rumble through his chest and he pushed you firmly back against the metal frame of the car. You could feel it now, his clothed erection between your thighs. Letting you what was to come.

‘Seriously Peter someone will see.’ You repeated using your purchase on his hair to pull his head back from your neck, forcing his eyes to meet yours and the embrace to halt.

A wicked smile smoothed across his lips and leant in to kiss you a final time. ‘Let them.’ He said quietly, turning you in his arms and pushing lightly on your back so your hands were placed on the hood of the car.

‘Peter.’ You gasped as you were faced now with the view of the open world, sun setting and turning the sky into a stream of watercoloured lines.

‘Let them come and see. You want me.’ He chuckled as if still in disbelief at the words you’d told him earlier. His hands slipped round to squeeze at your hips gently and his lips dropped to your shoulder, nosing the material out the way so he could kiss you lightly. His teeth grazed lightly on both sides of your shoulder and his hand moved round to tug lightly at the material of your panties.

‘We’re going to show everyone you and me. Right baby?’ You moaned a soft affirmative, closing your eyes for a moment letting the ache take over your body. ‘I know what you want baby.’ He muttered, the sweetness back in his voice again, all trace of jealous anger forgotten. You saw his hand dissapear from its position at your side and next felt the material of his jeans moving behind you, dropping down. You bit your lip lightly eyes scanning the landscape to see, knowing how dangerous this was.

Once he was free, Peter had pulled your dress up to your waist growling into your ear. ‘Hold it for me pretty girl.’ He purred against your ear taking your wrists and wrapping your fingers round the material to give him clear access.

As he pushed himself into you, you were once again taken aback by the sheer length of him. The feeling made your hand drop to the hood of the car for support. Your fingers curled nails scratching against the metal of the car as you did. Another time he may have complained at you for that but right now he was lost to the feel of you around him, your walls snug around his shaft as he settled inside you. Peter hadn’t move yet making you feel his entirety for a moment, enjoying how it made your hips squirm. His hand pulled your arms back, his own slipping beneath them both locking them behind your back in an inescapable hold. ‘You like this?’ He asked quietly leaning in to kiss all over your neck, his actions wet and sloppy, no longer having the charade of control in his actions.

You hated to admit but you did. Out here in the air, the danger of it all. You liked exciting things and Peter was one of them. ‘Yes Peter.’ As you spoke the words your head slipped forward in shame, blushing deeply.

‘No no no y/n, don’t be embarrassed.’ It was as if he could hear your thoughts before they came to you. Peter’s free hand snaked round to brush along your neck, trailing the feel of your windpipe beneath his fingers. ‘You’re mine. So fragile and all mine. I’m going to take care of you.’ As he spoke his hips pulled back, causing you to gasp as he moved within you. He started off with slow and gentle movements, still pressing gentle kisses to the nape of your neck.

‘Tell me you want me again.’ Peter murmured into your ear and through the intermiitent moans and cries you whispered it out to him. Each movement had you feeling the veins on his shaft, the tip spearing against your walls as he pumped into you.

‘You’re so fucking tight, y/n. How is that still possible?’ You opened your mouth to answer but his pressure on your neck was stronger now, fingers squeezing lightly on your windpipe and choking the words back. ‘Don’t worry babygirl I’ll let you breathe. When I want you too.’ You could feel the smirk in his words as he spoke them, knowing how much he was enjoying this. His hand was gone replaced instead with the underside of his elbow, using his whole arm to keep your head back. The lack of control sent you spiralling, enjoying how tightly he held you. You pushed your hips backwards down against his trying to take some of the control, needing more from him.

‘Fuck. No.’ So that wasn’t happening. Peter slammed you forward quickly letting your arms go now so he could jam his hand in between the car and your hips to stop you harming yourself on impact. His motions were much faster now hips slamming up into yours pushing you down against the car. It felt as though he was growing even larger within you with each motion. You felt a hot hand slip under your thigh and Peter lifted it to place your knee on the car, exposing your lower half to the cool air of the afternoon. You shivered against him the feeling vibrating down to your entrance causing him to growl quietly.

Peter was giving you everything he had now, pounded himself into you over and over pushing your head down against the smooth metal of the cars hood. Your cheek was turned against it so you could see him in the windscreen, watching his expression as he fucked himself deeper into you. As you caught his eyes, his gaze was already locked on you. That same smile the one that completely disarmed you across the kitchen table a week ago, was reflected back to you and you mewled out a loud cry against the metal knowing you were almost spent. ‘You want my permission little one?’ He asked down at you never once breaking the rhythm.

You mumbled a yes amongst other pleasured cries legs still balanced aside the car. ‘Good girl, you know your orgasm belongs to me. You’ve got it babygirl.’ Only a few moments after he spoke you felt your stomach tensing beneath you, and your legs shook against his as you collapsed harder against the metal.

‘uh uh’ he warned you quietly, Peter’s fingers wrapping round your hair and pulled you back up against him not letting you recover. ‘Not till Daddy’s finished with you.’ You gasped the final shudders of your orgasm causing your walls to clench against him, body only held up by the strands of your hair. Your moans were soft whimpers now, lost in the air as your gaze fixed instead on the sky.

Soon after you felt him emptying into you, grunting gutturally as he did. He kept pushing into you as if trying to bury his seed within you, some of it slipping down the back of your thighs. Peter pulled out only for a moment, hand moving down to hold his shaft using the tip to guide the last of his seed into your entrance kissing your neck gently as he held your stomach.

‘I’m going to keep you forever, y/n.’ He muttered into your hair keeping you facing out to the landscape nestled in his arms. You didn’t have the strength to reply, leaning back into the curve of his chest, his head sat atop yours. One last searing kiss to your neck and then Peter was pulling up his trousers and belt. That same large hand stayed at your waist as he opened the rear door for you, politely helping you into it before shutting the door. You pulled your legs up beneath you, still feeling the last of his juice escaping down your legs, but the feeling was quickly soothed by the quiet hum of the engine.

Peter was driving you back towards the manor as if nothing had happened. You lifted your head to the front mirror again, and found his gaze once again on you. This time you refused to look away, holding his gaze as long as you could. He smirked, liking the indignation in your eyes as the wheel spun, turning back into the driveway of Bly Manor.

— —

@afriendlyblackhottie

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

green frosting

summary: hockey players aren’t known for their domestic skills, and Nolan isn’t an exception.

word count: 2.7k

note from the writer: day four! enjoy this and the other fics from my Christmas masterlist! tagging @bqstqnbruin​ @broadstbroskis​ @nazkadris​ @laurenairay​ @justjosty​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @tayella13​ @wastedheartcth​ @writinghockey​ / add yourself to my taglist

Each year the Christmas season seemed to arrive sooner and sooner until suddenly halfway through October you were seeing videos of people intricately decorating holiday cookies that you had no hope of recreating. Still, you saved the videos for reference when you finally had a moment to do some Christmas baking.

When Nolan told you he had the night off, you jumped on the chance to have him to yourself and told him to meet you at your apartment. It had been a few days since the last time you had gotten him alone as a result of hockey, and you were excited to have him over.

And for the chance to make some cookies.

When Nolan showed up at your place, expecting a night in with a movie and takeout, he wasn’t expecting you to already have on your coat and a bright smile. He was dressed casually, grey sweats and a dark Flyers hoodie, and hat on his head that did little to hide the length that was his hair. Still, despite the relatively plain outfit, he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Nols.” You grinned, pushing yourself up onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting. If possible, his cheeks flushed a little bit more red than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of victory in your chest for drawing the reaction out of him.

See, you and Nolan weren’t technically anything more than friends. But you had been towing the line between platonic and romantic for far too long, and it seemed almost inevitable that things were going to tip in the direction you desperately wanted it to soon.

“Hey, where are we going?” He questioned, voice deep and laced with confusion as he watched you lock your apartment door after shutting the door.

“To the store, I figured we could make some Christmas cookies.” You explained, turning to face him with an excited smile. Part of your giddiness was for the cookies, but mostly you were looking forward to having the chance to see just how poor Nolan’s domestic skills were. “Only if you want to, though.”

“Sounds fun.” He said earnestly, slipping his hand in yours and tugging you in the direction of the elevator he had just arrived from before you got the chance to second guess yourself further. And really, he couldn’t say no when you were smiling at him and he was desperate for any chance to spend time with you.

“We’ll see how fun you find it when we actually start baking.” You teased, knocking him with your shoulder and drawing a chuckle out of him. The elevator doors opened, and you pulled him in with you and without a second thought he crowded you against the back wall after hitting the button for the lobby.

“You know, I missed you a lot on this last trip.” He mumbled, his hands coming to settle on your hips as he backed you into the wall of the elevator. It was things like this that told you that you weren’t the only one that saw the trajectory of your relationship heading into something much less platonic.

“You didn’t miss me on the other ones?” You couldn’t help the chirp, but thankfully it did little to discourage him. Instead, his grip tightened and his smile widened just a bit more. You wondered if he was going to do it then, if he was finally going to kiss you and end this months long game of cat and mouse you had been playing.

“I always miss you.” He conceded, but before you could comment further, the elevator doors dinged open to reveal the lobby and you separated, albeit a bit reluctantly. You were still smiling, though, wide and teasingly as you slipped your hand into his and tugged him out of the elevator.

It was easy to find his car parked on the street and when Nolan opened your door for you, you couldn’t do anything to stop the grin that found its way onto your face. The ride to the store was quick and spent mostly in conversation about what the boys had gotten up to on the latest road trip, and before you knew it he was parking in front of the grocery store you regularly visited.

“And I swear Teeks didn’t leave my room until after midnight, I had to kick him out.” Nolan explained, drawing a chuckle out of you at their dynamic. They seemed like polar opposites, Travis was loud and animated while Nolan preferred to keep to himself. Even so, you had cracked his hard exterior and now were so close to getting to his heart, you could tell.

“Sounds like you guys had fun.” You told him with a smile, climbing out of the car after he parked at the nearest grocery store.

“Wish you could’ve been there, though.” He said, and you chuckled at his sappy words and the way he extended his hand out for you to hold as if it was second nature. You gave his hand a quick squeeze, a silent reply that you, too, wished you could have been there.

It wasn’t exactly late at night, but the grocery store was nearly empty, music playing loudly and you couldn’t help the rush of excitement you felt as you remembered your purpose of the trip. Eagerly, you grabbed a basket and pulled Nolan further into the store.

“They’ve been playing this song since November.” Nolan groaned, following after you and letting you take control. It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, but then you heard the familiar tune of “Sleigh Ride” by The Ronettes playing through the store’s speaker.

“Grinch.” You huffed playfully, knocking your shoulder into his arm and drawing a chuckle out of him. “C’mon, I have most of the stuff we need but I need cookie cutters, food coloring, and confectioners sugar.”

“Confectioners sugar?” He repeated, as if the words were forgein to his ears and he’d never heard of it before. You chuckled at his cluelessness, somehow his complete lack of domestic skills and knowledge endearing to you.

“Powdered sugar, Nols.” You teased, but before he could make a playful commnet back, you were distracted by the display of cookie cutters and other Christmas baking supplies. Nolan let you pick, knowing that whatever you decided he’d go along with—and not just about cookie cutters; you had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.

He watched as you absentmindedly hummed along to the Christmas song playing through the store. He wondered how he could have gotten so lucky to be the one you were late night baking with, the one you spent most of your freetime with. He wanted to be yours, he wanted the label and the ability to show you off without fear of you thinking he was overstepping.

Hell, he already thought of you as his girl.

“Anyone home?” Your voice dragged Nolan out of his thoughts, hand waving in front of his face with a playful grin on yours. Your smile widened as he grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together all while rolling his eyes at you. He was suppressing a grin, you could see it in his eyes and the way the corners of his lips twitched so you considered it a win and tugged him in the direction of the rest of the items you needed.

The sugar was an easy find but the food coloring was on the very highest shelf and Nolan would be damned if he passed up the opportunity to tease you. He acted as if he wasn’t going to grab the box for you, arms crossed over his chest and a smug grin on his face as he encouraged you to just grab the box. It was all in good nature and you found yourself giggling through threats until he finally caved and pulled the box down for you.  

His hands barely left you the entire trip, fingers threaded through yours or palms on your waist as he stood behind you at checkout. It was as if he couldn’t help himself, and you didn’t mind one bit. You could get lost in him for hours, so as soon as you settled back into his car for the drive back to your place, you reached over and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. You spotted the grin on his face, but before you could tease him for it, he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and set your hands in your lap.

Nolan made sure to grab the bag out of the backseat before you had the chance to, and as you walked into your apartment building, you wondered what you could have possibly done to get lucky enough to have Nolan in your life. He was sweet, funny, and devilishly attractive.

You just wished he’d ask you out, or at the very least kiss you.

“So, where do we start?” Nolan asked after setting the bag on your kitchen counter.

“Grab the bluetooth speaker out of my room, please?” You asked sweetly, moving around your kitchen deftly and pulling out all of the ingredients you’d need to make the standard Christmas sugar cookies. Nolan saluted playfully before slipping out of the room, returning just as you pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator. You handed him your unlocked phone and told him to connect it to the speaker and went to work in grabbing two large bowls and the mixer.

“What playlist?” He asked from his spot leaning against the counter. You turned and grinned at him, taking an extra second to admire how effortlessly attractive he looked while just standing in your kitchen.

“The Christmas one, Nols, we’re making Christmas cookies.” You told him as if it was obvious, a grin on your face that assured him you were just teasing. He rolled his eyes playfully, but otherwise complied and within seconds “Mistletoe and Holly” by Frank Sinatra was playing through the speaker.

“Alright captain, what’s first?” Nolan asked, setting your phone down and stepping towards the counter where you’d set up the ingredients.

“Okay, we need to measure these and put them in this bowl.” You told Nolan, gesturing to the flour, baking powder, salt, and one of the bowls you had gathered. Putting Nolan in charge of the flour with little more than the amount he needed and a threat to not make a mess, you went to work measuring the other ingredients. Unsurprisingly, you finished your tasks before Nolan, and watched with a giggle as he focused intently on getting the exact amount of flour you told him.

The rest of baking went similarly to the start, you told Nolan what to do and he did it with brows furrowed in concentration and a seriousness you hadn’t expected him to have when you asked him to bake with you.

“So now we just wait?” He asked for clarification, looking between you and the sheet of cookies you had just put in the oven.

“Mhm, and when that sheet is done we cut out some more until there’s not enough dough to make more.” You explained to him, leaning against the counter to admire him. There was flour on his sweatshirt and on the brim of his backwards hat from when he adjusted it. You were cleaner, but you were convinced that it was impossible to bake anything and escape without getting some flour on you.

The song switched just as you finished talking, the familiar intro to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” filling your kitchen and making a grin appear on your face. Nolan recognized that look, and instantly he was pushing himself up from where he had been leaning against the counter to pull you into his arms and dance dramatically in your kitchen.

He spun you around and you giggled wildly, your moves anything but graceful. He was smiling wide, too, and you decided that it was your favorite sight. The music continued, switching to it’s more upbeat tune and allowing you to dance even goofier, much to Nolan’s delight. You tried to force him to match your energy, but the most you got was a dorky shimmy after you pouted playfully.

“Don’t act like you’re not having fun.” You sighed, breathing a little heavier than you probably should have been after dancing. A mellower song played after Mariah, shifting the mood from goofy and light to a little more serious, though the smile on Nolan’s face helped grow yours.

“I never said I wasn’t having fun, I’d just rather watch you.” He explained, settling his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. Your heart picked up in pace, the look in his eyes one that had you excited, one that had you hoping that maybe he was finally going to kiss you.

“Charmer.” You muttered, if only to fill the silence. Nolan chuckled at that, but he didn’t seem to want to make a comment back, and instead he began leaning his head down, slowly, as if he was giving you a chance to back out. You weren’t going to, not even a little bit, but the very second you tilted your chin up to silently ask for a kiss the alarm on the oven went off, loud enough to have you jolting away from Nolan despite how much you wanted to stay in his arms.

You tried to ignore the way he groaned in defeat as you turned away from him to pull the first sheet of cookies out of the oven. Nolan started on the next batch, rolling out the dough like you had taught him. You had a system going, and soon enough all the cookies were cooled on the counter and there were various bowls with different colored frosting. You had red, white, green, and yellow for the Christmas trees, stars, and candy canes cookies you had cut out.

Unsurprisingly, you were much neater than Nolan, and in no time he had frosting all up and down his shirt. Halfway through carefully frosting a Christmas tree, you turned around to grab your phone and change the song, only to catch Nolan grinning at you.

“You’ve got a little something.” He mumbled, smiling at you gesturing to his cheek. You reached a hand up on your own face, brushing at the area but somehow missing whatever was on his face. Nolan chuckled, stepped forward to help you out. He swiped his thumb across your cheek, and pulled back his hand to show you the green frosting you had been using to decorate the Christmas shaped trees with on his thumb. Parting his lips, he sucked the frosting off with an obnoxious hum, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” You asked, voice confident with a teasing lilt and it was all it took for Nolan to duck his head down and connect his lips to yours. It was a long awaited kiss, one that had been built up by months of teasing glances and not-so accidental brushes.

You wanted to thread your fingers into his hair, but your hands were still covered in frosting so instead you gripped his already frosting-stained shirt in a bid to keep him in place. He was cupping your face, holding you just as close and you felt as if you were on cloud nine. He tasted like green frosting, so much so you wondered if he had been sneaking some from the bowl instead of just the small bit he had licked off his thumb.

You weren’t sure who pulled back first, but you were both smiling at each other and it was clear the feelings you had for him were mutual. You pushed yourself up onto your tip-toes to press another quick kiss to his lips before settling back onto your feet.

“The frosting tastes good.” You teased, and somehow Nolan’s cheeks turned rosier.

“Are you sure we have to finish this? I think we should just keep kissing.” He suggested, and though the offer was tempting, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Cookies first, then we can do your idea.”

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Man After Midnight•

Summary: Shota teaches Hitoshi how it's done in a cemetery.

Pairing: Dom Shota Aizawa x Sub FemReader x Switch Hitoshi Shinsou (all 18+)

Warnings: Threesome, Fingering, Oral (female and male receiving), Multiple orgasms, Sex on a grave, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Snowballing, Collaring, Dom/Sub dynamics, Poly dynamics.

Word count: 5,224

A/N: For once a fic if mine doesn't have Daddy kink, it does scream Daddy issues though lmao. I wrote the last 2k words of this in a hospital waiting room PLS bE NiCe.

Playlist

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You watch, transfixed as he slides his long, pale fingers up your skin. He moves the pesky fabric of your skirt out of the way, chuckling lowly when you shiver slightly.

“You’re a tease this evening.” You observe as his hand travels back towards your knee, away from where you need him.

Probably wise, considering you’re traveling at nearly ninety miles an hour down a very heavily wooded back road.

“Where are you taking me, Shouta?” You ask quietly, cautiously, knowing he doesn’t like being bothered with too many questions when he plans evenings like this.

It’s date night, but not your regular Saturday night wine and dine type of date night.

Once or twice a month you and Shota will spend a night out of the house, reserve a room, find some undisclosed location, and fuck your hearts out. Your relationship had always consisted of an electric sex life, but as of late you’ve both been exploring your very dark, very carnal desires.

One of the more drastic steps was allowing a third individual to enter into your sexual dynamic. A friend of Shota’s, his name is Hitoshi Shinsou. You had been introduced to the idea over an exquisite dinner one evening. Shota had explained Hitoshi was very intrigued by the kind of kinky lifestyle you two lived, and that he was very eager and willing to learn.

After that, Hitoshi began his education under Shouta, with you as his greatest tool for teaching.

Hitoshi is an aspiring Dom with an inexplicable soft spot for sweet little brats like you. This is why he and Shota got along so well. Shota has been working with him for months now, letting Hitoshi watch with wide, depraved, lavender eyes as he tames you, fucks your brains out, as he bends you until you break. He watches from a chair in the corner of the bedroom you share with Shota, occasionally with his hands tied, but he’s usually allowed the freedom to pleasure himself.

He’s only allowed to watch though, never touch, not yet. He’s allowed to touch himself, he’s allowed to talk, but he has not been allowed to lay a finger on you. The closest he’s come is tasting your release off of Shota’s fingers, thanking him and lamenting about how sweet you are.

He may be an aspiring Dom, but Hitoshi Shinsou is a brilliant little switch.

Needless to say, you and Hitoshi have developed some very intense tension, after hearing him ramble about how pretty you look when Shota is making you cry, you can’t help it. You don’t know somebody that intimately, you don’t watch somebody fall apart like that, and not want to be party to their undoing.

“We’re meeting Toshi somewhere.” He says, as calm and collected as ever.

“You’re going to spoil him tonight.” His voice rumbles slightly, eyes on the road, steady and intense,

“I- I am?” You want to pry, wanting to ask what the hell that entails.

Will he be allowed to touch you, taste you, will he finally be able to fuck you?

“His lesson will be very hands on this evening.”

You pause, waiting for an explanation, but you watch his brows draw together, his jaw set, and you know you’re not allowed to ask any further questions.

You may be a brat, but you’re not stupid.

A few bends and turns later, you’re pulling up to large, wrought iron gates.

“Just a moment, dear.” He kills the engine then pops open the door and slides out of the car.

You admire the way his long legs look in his dress pants, desire seeps into your skin as you watch his shoulders sway, adorned by a perfectly tailored blazer.

The man drips sexual tension, exudes power, and demands obedience.

He pops the gates open easily, your blood runs cold when you see what's beyond them.

You run your hands up and down the tops of your thighs anxiously, eyes locked at the various graves spread across the seemingly forgotten field. Ivy swallows the stones and creeps across the ground like long green fingers. The hair on the back of your neck raises, a sick feeling drips down your spine before it settles in your gut.

You're jolted from your anxiety when Shota appears on the outside of your door. He pops it open and offers you his hand.

"Is Hitoshi here?" You ask timidly as you take his hand and step out, heals crunching the gravel as you smooth your skirt down.

"He is." Another final statement, one that forbids any further questions.

You nod and loop your arm around his strong bicep. You let him guide you through the gates, thankful for the balmy summer air against your exposed legs.

You're guided down the winding pathway of the cemetery, you should feel haunted, oppressed by the eerie energy that clouds the air. You can't bring yourself to feel fear though, not when Shota has made the promise of being able to finally spoil Hitoshi.

You find him sitting alone on a bench next to the path, one long leg crossed over the other with his arms spread like swings across the back.

“How's it goin'?" His deep, bass filled voice slips from his lips, finding its way into your ribs, sending shivers through your body.

Cocky as ever, handsome as ever, Hitoshi never fails to make your mouth water.

He's presenting so relaxed, but there's something tight in his posture, like he's wound up, ready to pounce.

"Good evening, Hitoshi." Shota, "Both of you follow me." His greeting is short, almost bored sounding before he strolls off down the path at his lazy pace.

Hitoshi winks as you before standing up, he rolls his shoulders back then offers you his hand, which you take a bit too eagerly.

You both follow Shota along the path, silent but buzzing with anticipation. Sparks fly from your clasped hands, your cheeks grow hot as you try to keep up with the long strides of both men.

Eventually you find yourselves at a massive, knotted, cursed looking tree. The only thing illuminating the scene is the washed out light of the pale full moon. It hangs in the sky like a God, waiting to judge you for your sins.

"Here?" Hitoshi speaks up beside you as Shota strolls up to the tree, voice full of apprehension.

Then your blood freezes, your eyes lock on a slab of concrete that sticks up from the ground right in front of the tree. Shota is standing right before it, standing on someone's grave.

The sight makes your hair stand on end, your hand squeezes Hitoshi's involuntarily, desperately trying to hold on to something as the situation feels more and more out of your control.

"Here." Shota answers, gazing up at the wispy branches of the ugly old tree. Where the hell are you? More importantly, who the hell was that? Does Shota really intend on letting Hitoshi have his way with you on a grave?

He turns to face the two of you, a small, almost undetectable smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

His hand motions for you to come towards him with the gentle beckon of two fingers. You discard Hitoshi's hand, obeying instantly.

Shota's hand slides into his pocket, then he pulls out something that makes your whole body ache.

Your collar.

You want nothing more than to feel the cool leather wrap around your neck, have Shota guide you by the small metal loop in the front. All reservations about your current location are snuffed out by the heavy headspace that envelopes you.

Such a beautiful little piece, reminding you of all the way Shota has taken you, loved you, tamed you.

"Please?" Is all you can muster, voice soft and full of longing.

His hand comes to the bottom of your chin, tilting it up as he considers your face. His dazzling, dark eyes take in every feature.

"Of course, sweet girl." He loops it around you so gently, clasping the back with care, keeping your hair out of the way.

A pair of hands slide over your waist from behind, the sensation sends a wave of chills down your body. He's allowed to touch you? Did he even ask?

Hot lips are on your neck, and Shota just watches. A look you can't decipher flashes through his eyes. Then, tenderly, he puts his index finger through the loop on the front of your collar.

Then your head really swims.

With Hitoshi's mouth working against your heated skin, and Shota's eyes ripping you to shreds.

"She's a pretty little thing, isn't she, Toshi?" Shota mutters as he pulls you forward by the guide on your neck.

"She's perfect… She's so soft…" Hitoshi confesses, hands tightening around your waist, lips never fully leaving your neck.

With his other hand, Shota reaches up to grab Hitoshi by the chin. You both stand there, frozen, captivated by the authority that possesses you.

"You'll both behave tonight, won't you?" He asks, it's a loaded question and you know it. If Hitoshi is smart, he catches it too.

He didn't say be good, he said behave.

You both nod, silent and entranced.

"Speak up, please." There's no impatience to his voice, only guidance.

"Yes Sir." It's said in unison, but it couldn't sound more dissonant.

Your voice is willing and obedient. Hitoshi's is reluctant, relenting of control.

Shota seems pleased, though, enough to lean forward and take your lips with his. Hitoshi takes this as permission to continue working his lips against your neck.

You lose yourself then, melting between them, heating pooling between your weak legs as you let the two of them pull you to the ground. You whimper at the tug against your neck, only slightly shocked by the feeling of cement beneath your knees.

Hitoshi's hands become greedy at your waist, tugging at your clothes as he starts to use less tongue and more teeth.

"Can I please leave marks?" Hitoshi huffs against your skin, he sounds so desperate, like he's barely holding back.

Shota breaks your kiss, meeting Hitoshi's eyes as he awaits permission expectantly.

"Can he?" Shota's eyes meet yours, eyebrows raised.

"P-please." It's quiet, it's needy, it tumbles from your lips without your brain's consent.

Then he's on you, vibrant and selfish as his mouth explores every inch of skin it can. He leaves pretty little red marks up and down your neck as he works, pulling sweet moans from your parted lips.

"Good girl, tell him what you like." Shota whispers. Then, his hands are on your waist, pulling you up slightly so he can spin you on his lap.

He reclines back on the headstone, pulling your back against his chest and he hooks your legs over the tops of his thighs. You're left completely exposed to Hitoshi whose eyes are already ablaze with lust.

"Help me get these out of the way." Shota says to Hitoshi as he tugs at your skirt.

And then they're both on you like animals. Pulling and tugging away all of your clothes. Hitoshi does most of the work as Shota directs your body like a puppet until you're fully rid of the pesky fabrics.

It's almost embarrassing, being naked while they're both so covered. It's not quite deserving of shame, though. If anything, it's exhilarating.

Still in your place on Shota's lap, your body is washed by the warm evening breeze, bathed in moonlight as Hitoshi all but drools over your exposed curves.

He kneels between yours and Shota's legs, eyes darting madly over the planes of your body, taking I'm every detail he can.

"Don't just stare at her, Toshi, make her feel good." Shota says as he slides a hand around your waist, inching it down to your heated center.

"You like to feel good, don't you baby?" Another kiss is placed under your ear as his hand dips lower.

The pad of his middle finger slides over your clit, making you jump just a little. Both men chuckle darkly as your jittery reaction, but the laughter dies when he starts to draw slow, lazy circles against you.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he starts to work his magic. He moves his fingers with so much skill and familiarity, your walls start gripping immediately.

"Start with your fingers, ease her into it." Shota instructs. Your eyes blink open, and the way that Hitoshi is looking at you makes you gasp.

He looks positively wild, dark shadows decorate his pretty face in such an ominous way. His eyes are less teasing, more focused and intense. He doesn't look like a brat. He looks like he's in charge.

Cautiously, he hand drifts down your inner thigh, eyes locked on yours the whole time. Shota continues to work at your clit as Hitoshi starts to tease the crux of your thigh with his thumb.

"Have some fun with her, that's what we're here for." Shota smiles against your neck when your hips buck after he applies slightly more pressure.

"Is one man not enough for you? You need two of us playing with that little cunt?" Hitoshi's words drip from his mouth like ice. You tense under their weight, shocked by his confidence.

His thumbs play at your slit, gathering the slick there.

"God, she's fucking soaked." He looks to Shota who only smiles while he slides his own fingers down to feel your wet hole.

"Oh she is." He says with a mocking tone.

"You think you can take Toshi's fingers? Ask him nicely, maybe he'll play with you." His other hand slides up to grab your jaw, directing your gaze to Hitoshi.

"Please- Toshi, please touch me." His whole body sags when he hears your sweet pleading, not used to it being directed at him.

He loves it, and god does he want more.

Your chest burns when he flattens himself into his stomach, hands splayed across your thighs as he watched Shota play with your clit.

Hitoshi's eyes stay on yours as Shota's lips stay at your neck. With an agonizing pace, Hitoshi finally brings his long middle finger to your entrance and slips it in.

The sensation is nothing but a tease, a preamble to what will inevitably turn into wild, blinding pleasure. For now, you can only lay there and shutter when he adds a second finger. Both men work together until your legs are twitching as sweat beads on your brow.

"You feel how tight she's getting? When she does that curl those fingers." Shota tells Hitoshi, his own fingers start moving a little faster, pushing down a little more.

"Oh fuck." You huff when Hitoshi does as he's told, kissing your sweet spot with his fingers as he curls them.

"Good boy." Shota groans, paying close attention to the way your body trembles.

"I wanna taste her, please let me taste her." Toshi begs with a frantic voice, fingers working mercilessly against your walls.

Shota doesn't answer, he only chuckles deep in his chest as he reaches out to grab Hitoshi by the hair at the front of his head. Both men remove their hands from your core as Hitoshi presses his hot, greedy mouth to your dripping sex.

All you can do is cry out and buck against his mouth as his tongue finds your clit, he moans against you, slurping and sucking obscenely as you shiver and sob.

Shota keeps his hand firmly planted in Toshi's hair, the other grabs you under the knee to crank your leg up, spreading you nice and wide for his prodigy.

"Flatten that tongue, press down." Shota tightens his grip on Hitoshi's hair, who listens well and executes perfectly.

Your back bends and your hands fly to Hitoshi's purple waves as shocks of pleasure shoot through you, you feel it building, capturing your very soul. Shota's other hand meets your other leg to mirror his hold on both sides.

You roll your hips against Hitoshi's mouth, his slick tongue glides up and down on your clit, eyes watching your every move, reading you, memorizing the way you react.

"Let him have it, Kitten, he wants it so damn bad." Shota mumbles against your ear, and that's all it takes.

You crest brilliantly, throbbing and aching between them both. Shota mutters his sweet praises while Hitoshi laps up everything you have for him, moaning like a bitch against your cunt.

"You taste so fucking good, your pussy is so sweet." He says against you, never fully removing his mouth.

"You should feel how tight she gets when she's got a dick inside her." Shota teases, laughing when you gasp and try to squeeze your thighs shut.

He keeps you held open for Hitoshi until he's licked up your entire mess. Finally, he pulls away, licking his lips with the devil in his eyes.

"Can I?" His voice is so shaky, so unhinged, driven over the edge of sanity by his desire to ravage you now that he finally can.

He looks between the both of you, waiting for someone to unhook his leash, desperate to be let lose you.

You wait with baited breath, looking back at Shota for his response. He looks down at you with eyes full of depravity and possession.

"Fuck her right, Toshi." His order sends you both reeling.

He doesn't need to be told twice, he barely needs to be told once. As soon as Shota grants him permission, Hitoshi is kissing up your body, his hands reach up to play with your firm nipples. He rolls them between his fingers as he kisses up between your breasts.

Shota stays steady behind you, still dutifully holding your legs open. He kisses your neck on occasion, tells you how good you're being, promising that Hitoshi will make you feel so good.

"Doesn't she look pretty with her legs spread?" Shota muses, his own long legs spread just a bit wider as he drops yours back over his thighs.

"She's perfect like this…" Hitoshi growls, teeth teasing your collar bone.

He makes quick work of his pants, only pushing them down around his thighs, in too much of a rush to take them off completely. As Hitoshi moves, you become painfully aware of Shota's hard length pressing into your backside.

You wiggle back against him, teasing him with your ass. His hands fly to your hips, stilling your movements.

"Does somebody need a cock inside her?" Shota says with a low, mocking tone, "You can help her, can't you, Toshi? You can stuff her little pussy?"

Hitoshi slides his briefs down to join his pants, nodding as he grabs himself and starts to pump. He's already so hard, he's so long and curved and pretty.

You whimper and wiggle, overwhelmed by Shota's words, by Hitoshi's beauty.

"So quiet tonight, come on, kitten. You can be so mouthy." Hitoshi says as he leans forward, he braces himself on the headstone behind Shota. His long body looms over yours as Shota snakes one arm around your waist, the other comes up to hold you by the collar.

You watch with tingling nerves as Hitoshi lines himself up with your center, running his thick head along your folds.

"Let him hear you, make this fun for him." Shota orders against your ear, it's a harsh whisper, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Yes Sir- Oh fuck, Toshi!" He pushes in, rough and sudden. A cheshire smile spreads across his lips as he watches you jump in Shota's arms.

"Take it, be still." Shota says, less authoritative, more amused.

Hitoshi presses in, a little too fast, a little too hard. He stretches you as he works his way in, obsessed with the way your walls pulse around him. Even the "too much" of it feels heavenly, so you don't stop it, you do what you're told. You hold still. You take it.

"Fucking hell." Hitoshi pants as he bottoms out, forehead falling against yours as your walls flutter. Your hands grasp at his muscular sides, nails digging in just a little when he leans into you a bit more.

"She's so fucking tight." He breathes, brows drawn together like he's already trying to hold in his release. He seems baffled, taken by surprise, but most of all, entranced.

"She always is." Shota says before licking up the shell of your ear. The action makes you clench, which makes Hitoshi shutter as a small, broken sound leaves his throat.

His eyes are locked on where you meet, fixating on the way he splits you open. Meanwhile, you lay there spellbound between their two strong bodies. The rise and fall of Shota's chest lolls you into a trance as Hitoshi sinks down against you.

He plants one hand firmly on the ground, the other grips the headstone like a vice, and then he starts moving.

"Tell him how you like it, sweet girl." Shota abandons his hold on your collar, opting to wrap his hand around your throat instead.

"Hard. Harder Toshi, please." You say, your voice is pathetic, but you can't begin to care.

His eyes lock with yours, that dangerous, carnal glint returns to them. His lips twitch into a smirk before he pulls back and slams back into you.

Shota's grip on your throat tightens as he laughs against your neck when you arch and cry out for Hitoshi.

"Like that?" He leans down to capture your lips with his.

It catches you by surprise, how soft they are, how easily they fit between yours. You'd imagined kissing him countless times, and this more than lives up to your fantasies.

He breaks it, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Speak up, kitten." Hitoshi says.

"Answer him." Shota adds on.

"Yes! Like that, just like that." You admit, your nails rake down his back as your hips roll up, desperate for him to move again.

"Show her how it's done, kid." Shota's voice is nothing but black velvet wrapping itself around you and Hitoshi. You know you're done for by the way his eyelids fall low, the way every muscle in his torso tenses.

Then he shows you.

With one swift motion he pulls back and lets loose on your poor body. He fucks you with every ounce of built up passion, remembering all the times he watched Shota have all the fun. Neither of you can stop your moans and pleas from leaving you, both completely enraptured with the way the other's body responds.

"Good fucking girl. You like it don't you? You'll take any cock you can get, huh?" Shota's words are firey now, lighting up your skin, burning away any self control you had left.

You nod frantically and muster one, pitiful "uh-huh" as Hitoshi finally rocks himself into your sweet spot. If it weren't for Shota's arm latching you against his chest, you would have jumped damn near jumped to the moon.

"Oh baby. Did I get it? Is that the spot that makes this kitty purr?" Hitoshi grins down at you, still thrusting with all of his strength.

His lessons with Shota have evidently paid off, he's a natural, his words turn you to mush, utterly compliant mush.

You can't answer, every time he sinks in he kisses it with his cock. Your legs start to tremble and the tears start to fall as the heat builds and builds and builds between your legs.

"It sure fuckin' is, poor thing can't even talk." Shota taunts, the hand around your throat tightens just a little, only enough to remind you that you're at his mercy.

"I'm- oh my god- I'm so close, so fucking close." Is all you can manage to say, and it's a fight to get the words out, all of your brain power is being used to focus on the electricity thrumming through your core.

"Let me help you with that." Shota says, his hand leaves your throat and snakes down your body.

His middle finger is on your clit before you can even blink. Then you break. You sob and buck and claw as everything comes to peak. You feel the ghost of Shota's lips on your neck, the phantom of Hitoshi's thrusts, but most of all you just feel yourself shatter.

"So. Fucking. Tight- shit!" Hitoshi grits out as he fucks you through it.

His rhythm is thrown slightly by the way you grip him. Shota's fingers slow in harmony with your clamping walls, easing you through your bliss.

With one last push in, and one last beautiful, almost sorrowful moan, Hitoshi buries himself inside of you. You watch how his body trembles when he finishes, how he bites his bottom lip and screws his eyes shut.

He's so damn gorgeous.

"What do you say?" Shota mumbles over your shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." You both sigh, bodies still twitching against each other.

A rough hand seizes your jaw.

"Hands and knees, girl." He spits.

There's your dom.

Reluctantly, slowly, Hitoshi pulls out of you. Somehow he's still hard, maybe even more swollen than before. Shota releases you from his lap, and your body moves to obey him instantly.

As you settle on all fours, the rough ground bites at your knees but you welcome it. Shota frees himself from the confines of his pants as you adjust your posture. He's not quite as long as Hitoshi, but he's thicker. Your mouth waters as he starts to move his fist over the weeping head.

Hitoshi settles behind you, his hands run over your ass as Shota leans forward to hook a finger into your collar. With a gentle tug forward, he glares down at you, his raven hair falling around his face in wild waves.

"Get to work." He commands as he pulls you down towards his length.

You open your mouth instantly, more than ready to obey.

As you take him in, reveling in the tangy precum spreading across your tongue, you feel a hand in the back of your hair.

But it's not Shota's.

Hitoshi's guiding hand pushing you down onto his teacher's cock.

"You too, Toshi, that cunt isn't going to fuck itself." You try not to choke around him as his words settle like ice in your gut.

You look up at Shota with watery eyes as he hits the back of your throat. Then you feel Hitoshi at your entrance again, making you moan around Shota as he pushes in.

Both men swear, voices low and harsh as they fill you. Hitoshi hands grapple at the fat of your hips while Shota's settle in your hair.

Then they both start moving.

Shota fucks up into your open mouth as Toshi builds a slow, deep rhythm behind you.

"You're just a little cocksleeve aren't you? You live for this shit." Shota moans as he throws his head back as you take control and start bobbing your head up and down.

"That's my girl, suck that cock." He puts his hands behind his head, relaxing against the headstone.

The image should make your skin crawl, but it only makes your core clench tighter, which only makes Hitoshi fuck you harder.

"How's she feel, kid? Is that pussy everything you dreamed of?" Shota asks, marveling at the scene he's created.

"She's perfect- fuck- she feels so damn good." He finds your sweet spot again, staying right on top of it when you moan around Shota.

"Oh she likes it. She loves taking that cock." He chuckles, earning a sweet, high pitched moans from Hitoshi.

Hitoshi may want to be in charge, but he's quickly remembering who is in charge.

You focus on breathing through your nose, allowing your throat to open so you can take Shota even deeper. He hisses as his hips stutter up, cheeks flushing as he watches you work.

"Good girl, open up for me." He praises, nodding his head as he speaks.

Drool seeps out of your mouth and down his length as the tears finally fall, you feel your slick run down your thighs as Hitoshi rams into you over and over. All you can do is tremble and take both of them, but you wouldn't want to be doing anything else.

"You feel so good, kitten, you're taking it so well." Hitoshi moans from behind you, nails digging into your ass as he pounds away.

"She always takes it so well." Shota says fondly.

Your next orgasm hits you out of nowhere, all consuming as it rips through your body. The praise of both men going directly to your core. You pull off Shota's cock to gasp and moan, but you replace your mouth with your hand, pumping him up and down.

Suddenly, Shota is standing to his feet, grabbing you under your arms so he can push against Hitoshi, who gladly grabs you around the neck with his hand. The new angle prolongs your aftershocks, body limp and buzzing as Shota stands with his legs spread and his cock in his hand.

"Open wide, kitten. He's got somethin' for you." Hitoshi whispers in your ear before crying out against you as he stills inside you once more so he can spill into you.

Shota watches with selfish eyes as you both fall apart for each other. He lets the head of his cock fall against your bottom lip, a low groan rolls out of him as he fills your mouth with his release.

"Don't swallow it. Hold it." You answer by keeping your eyes on his as your hands slide up his thighs.

Hitoshi pants against your shoulder as you take Shota's load. His taste spreads across your taste buds, warm and familiar.

With one last pulse, he finishes completely.

"How about you be a good girl and share?" Shota says with a dark tone, nodding at Hitoshi.

"God, please, let me taste it." Hitoshi begs, his hands squeeze at your waist as he slips out of you.

He kneels beside you before taking your face in his hands, then he opens his mouth and looks at you with wide, expectant eyes.

Hitoshi Shinsou, what a brilliant little switch.

You grab his jaw and lean forward before you part your lips, allowing Shota's load to dribble down onto Hitoshi's tongue. The depravity of it all sends a thrill screaming through your soul. Every inch of you aches for more of this, more of both of these men.

Hitoshi moans as he takes everything you give him, swallowing with greed before wiping his mouth with the back of your hands.

"Look at you two, just a couple of cumsluts." He grabs you both by the hair, forcing you to look at him.

"You both did so well." He sighs, looking at you both affectionately.

"I should let you play together more often."

If it means you get to end up like this, skinned knees, covered in sweat and cum, fucked well over some poor soul's grave. You hope he lets you play together more often, you crave it more than anything now.

Hitoshi Shinsou could definitely learn to be a dom, especially with more lessons like these.