#sounds very upbeat and fun

[octowoman2419]

today while listening to my just dance 2023 playlist i stumbled upon this song

apparently it’s on just dance but idk (i referred to the fandom wiki for this)

but the song sounds good tho

[squuote]

I wish I knew more about music or like how to talk about it in depth because the tsp soundtrack literally makes me feel so many emotions and I don’t even have the words to express why it makes my heart claw out of my chest (major rambling in the tags lol)

[ningtual]

oh i'm gonna be so annoying about this album..... i even took notes while listening to this just now...

[daz4i]

they put smth in dazai's character song. like some drug that makes you sad. i know it.

[t-u-i-t-c]

i feel like i've been watching this show for a thousand years

[whowritessometimes]

Back and Forth - Art Donaldson x Reader

A Stanford!Art Donaldson and Stanford!Reader fic :) Kinda slow burn, very soft very sweet.

Word Count: 3.9k

---

The California summer sun beamed down on the court, making the colors of the advertisements and signs around you appear almost neon. Upbeat music flowed through speakers that you couldn't quite place, embodying the feeling of the tennis matches that surrounded you, the back-and-forth beat pulsating through your head. It was almost overstimulating, but this was your normal.

You were pre-med at Stanford, volunteering at some local tennis camp to fill your summer and add fodder to your resume. You didn't do much, occasionally helping some rich, pompous kid stretch out their wrist, or their knee, or their ankle, or whatever. The days blurred together, they all spoke to you in the same condescending way. For most people, it would be mind-numbing.

But it was exhilarating. You had this intrinsic love for tennis, you always had. Perhaps it was that love that led you to signing up for this gig, and not the resume experience. But you would never admit that to anyone. You had played tennis for fun your whole life, with your family growing up, with your friends in high school. It was only when you shattered your wrist sophomore year that you had to stop.

It sucked. It sucked at the time, and it sucked now. You weren't professional-level at tennis, not like these people, but it was nice to have a hobby unlike anything else people expected you to do. The pre-med thing, the reading, the studying, it came naturally to you. And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, and it wasn't like you weren't good at it, but you loved tennis. And every now and again, you missed it.

So here you were. Your head followed all the heads in the crowd in a practiced, synchronized, subconscious back-and-forth. There wasn't really ever a crowd, the games at the program were often informal, the audience often consisted of coaches and other players. But this was a unique match, Stanford's players engaged in a captivating display of athleticism. It was almost like a dance, the way they seemed to know the moves of the other before they made them. You could feel the intensity from your tent by the end of the bleachers.

Stanford's star player (well, one of them)—Art Donaldson. You'd half-watched him play from your tent whenever you weren't working. He was elusive, but undoubtably one of the best there. You had never spoken. He was enigmatic, focused on his training and on helping others. He had perfect technique, people said. Now, you had the chance to really see how he was. And he was. Top of his game.

Usually.

The air was thick with humidity. Your gaze flickered between the players, boredom warring with the gnawing anxiety that always hummed beneath the surface during matches. Then, a sound sliced through the rhythmic thwack of the tennis balls—a sharp cry of pain.

Your head snapped left like a whip, your heart leaping into your throat. There, sprawled on the opposite side of the net, lay Art. His face was contorted in agony, one hand clutching his ankle at an unnatural angle. His racket lay a few feet away, as forgotten as the polite pleasantries that had filled the air before the match.

The shitty plastic chair beneath you creaked in protest as you scrambled to your feet. Ignoring the surprised yelp from the equally shitty excuse for a supervisor you'd been assigned for the summer tennis program, you sprinted across the court. Dust billowed in your wake, blurring the vision that was already swimming with a mix of dread and the adrenaline rush that always came with seeing someone hurt.

You skidded to a halt beside him, kneeling. His eyes, usually bright with playful competitiveness, were screwed shut, teeth clenched as he fought back a string of obscenities you knew all too well.

"Hey," you said, forcing your voice to remain calm despite the tremor running through your body. He flinched at the sound of your voice, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his normally confident expression.

"Hey," he managed to rasp out, opening one eye a sliver. He tried to push himself up, but his face crumpled again as a fresh wave of agony shot through him.

"Don't move," you ordered, the calmness in your voice surprising even you. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from his injured ankle.

"'S bad, huh?" he breathed, a flicker of vulnerability in his voice.

The concern in his eyes sent a jolt through you. It wasn't just the pain; it was the fear.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice softer now, "We'll get you checked out. Just...hold still."

Ignoring the sting of sweat in your eyes, you carefully slipped your arm around his waist, offering what little support your slight frame could provide. Heaving him halfway onto your leg, you began the slow, agonizing walk towards the medical tent. Each step sent a spike of pain through Art's leg, reflected in the way he gritted his teeth and winced with every movement.

The supervisor, finally spurred into action, scurried behind you, muttering something about ice packs and paramedics. But your focus remained solely on Art, on getting him to help as quickly as possible.

You knew what it was like. Maybe that's what spurred your immediate action, your need to help him recover, to keep playing. You knew what it was like.

The antiseptic sting of the medical tent assaulted your nose as you hovered beside the injured player. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he clenched his jaw with each prod from the trainer.

"Think they all saw that?" he finally rasped, a hint of amusement battling the pain in his voice. You blinked, surprised by his oddly timed humor.

"Doubt it," you played along, a small smile tugging at your lips. "'S not like you're Art Donaldson or anything."

A sheepish grin replaced his grimace. "Thank god."

The trainer finished his work, leaving you and the injured player alone in a tense silence. He cleared his throat, his gaze meeting yours for the first time.

"So," he began, trailing off as he stared into the ceiling of the tent. There was something in his expression, the physical pain, the fear that comes with injury, the odd quiet of an unfinished game.

"So," you mimicked, sitting next to him in another shitty chair.

Something hung in the air, something all too familiar to you. He turned his head to look at you, to make eye contact, keeping his body flat on the cot. You realized then how close you were. Close enough to see his eyes, the sharp point of his jawline, the strawberry blond of his curls.

You averted your gaze, looking out into the brightness of the tent entrance. The typical ambiance of the outside seemed to be drowned by the odd intimacy you'd created together, the silence between you and Art seemed to be the only noise you could hear. His shoddy breathing, despite his attempts to pretend he was okay, only brought you back to when you felt the same way he did, all those years ago.

A blush crept up your neck. You fumbled for something, anything, to break the charged silence in the tent. "I, uh, broke my wrist sophomore year," you blurted, surprised by the words leaving your lips. "Tennis, ironically. One minute I'm playing—probably terribly—and then I'm in the ER holding a bag of frozen peas. And, I don't know, I guess I'm just saying... I get it. Sort of."

"You trying to distract me?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you admitted, a hesitant smile mirroring his. "Is it working?"

"Yeah, actually," he conceded, leaning back on the cot. "Tell me more."

You felt a genuine laugh bubble up from your chest, the first since the moment you saw him crumpled on the court.

---

And that was really the last time you saw Art. Suffice to say you hadn't forgotten about the encounter. It was actually stupid, how often you thought of it. He didn't even know your name, but you remembered the timbre of his voice, the softness of his gaze.

In your defense, he was hard to avoid. Now that the spring semester had started, tennis season was in full swing. His picture was plastered around the most of the facilities you frequented, future NCAA champion Art Donaldson.

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming jasmine hung heavy in the crisp California air as you hurried across the bustling Stanford campus. The semester had sprung with a vengeance, bringing with it the usual flurry of activity—overloaded backpacks, animated discussions about last night's party, and the ever-present anxiety of looming deadlines.

Today, however, an extra weight sat on your shoulders. Your pre-med advisor dropped a last-minute surprise: mandatory tutoring for a struggling athlete. Juggling med school coursework with a part-time job at the campus health center was already a tightrope walk, and adding this felt like a precarious extra step. But you managed it, as you did most things. How you had some semblance of a social life was a mystery. And maybe your very obvious lack of a love life was why you thought about Art so often. You didn't have time to psychoanalyze yourself, though. You barely had time for whatever this tutoring session was about to be.

Reaching the designated classroom, a small, windowless space usually reserved for last-minute group study sessions, you took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door. The sterile light inside momentarily blinded you, but as your eyes adjusted, a sight unfolded that caused your breath to hitch in your throat. Sprawled across a cluttered table, papers piled haphazardly around him, was a man who you'd spent the better part of the last few months thinking about.

There, unmistakably, was Art. His signature strawberry blond hair, slightly longer than you remembered, covered with a backwards baseball cap, curled at the edges, framing his face. A deep furrow creased his brow, a testament to the frustration radiating from his hunched form as he focused on a massive biology textbook. An unsettling warmth bloomed in your chest, a reaction entirely too potent for a tutoring session.

The memory of him sprawled on the opposite side of the tennis court last summer, his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, flickered across your mind. The panic that had gripped you then seemed almost comical now. The sterile environment and the way his eyes had held a curious blend of pain and something else—gratitude, maybe?—all formed a vivid memory you hadn't realized had imprinted itself so deeply.

His presence filled the small room, unexpectedly stealing your breath and injecting a jolt of something entirely different into the monotonous routine of your day. A shyness spread across your face, tinged with an unfamiliar nervousness as you cleared your throat, the sound echoing awkwardly in the sudden silence.

A slow smile took over his features as he looked at you, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you were caught in that smile, a memory resurfacing from the hazy days of summer.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm. He reached a toned arm, pulling out a chair for you.

"Hi," you blinked, momentarily flustered by the gesture and the echo of familiarity in his voice. There was a moment of tension in the air, of uncertainty, of a strange sense of reconnection. Finally, you managed to force out the words, "How are you?"

"My ankle's a lot better now, if that's what you're asking," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, making you hyperaware of the way your heart hammered against your ribs.

"You remember me?" you blurted out, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

"Course I remember you," he said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't ignore the way his eyes flickered from your face down to your body, and back up. Blatantly checking you out. And you could hear his smile in the way he spoke, warm and genuine, sending a familiar flutter through your stomach. The memory of his teasing laughter in the sterile medical tent resurfaced.

"Right," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You shifted in your chair, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his gaze on you.

The next hour or so unfolded in a way that surprised you both. Art's initial confusion melted away as you hovered next to him, animatedly explaining each concept. Social life, love life, Art Donaldson, you couldn't explain. Biology, medical stuff, sports, you understood.

And he was beginning to as well. Time became a forgotten entity, measured only by the turning of pages and the occasional frustrated groan from Art. He wasn't the cocky athlete you'd half-imagined, but someone with a genuine curiosity about the world around him and some kind of depth hidden beneath his confident facade on the court.

Finally, Art leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We should probably call it," he declared, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. He thanked you, looking into your eyes as he said your name, the syllables dancing off his tongue in a way that made you feel like it was more than a word you had offhandedly mentioned to him.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

The study sessions became a regular occurrence. The two of you exchanged numbers, only to arrange meetings, you reminded yourself.

But whenever he called, you found yourself talking about so much more than biology. It started with him asking how you were, a simple courtesy that somehow felt more genuine coming from him. Yet, as you replied, a comfortable ease would settle in. You'd find yourself laughing at inside jokes, dumb stories, the kind that wouldn't be particularly funny to anyone else, would mindlessly tumble out, fueled by the comfort you felt in his presence. It was a kind of nonsense, a space where you could just be yourself, and somehow, it felt like everything and nothing all at once.

---

Now, it was late, and it was finals week.

Papers and textbooks were scattered across your desk, a battlefield of scribbled notes and highlighted passages. You were in the trenches, neck-deep in the intricacies of biochemistry, desperately trying to cram information into your sleep-deprived brain.

Suddenly, the familiar buzz of your phone cut through the silence of your cramped dorm. You fished it out of your pocket, a flicker of annoyance battling with the ever-present hope that it might be a break, a distraction from the relentless onslaught of scientific jargon. Gratefulness shot through you when you saw Art Donaldson's name on the screen.

You answered the call. His voice crackled through the phone, laced with desperation. "I need your help," he blurted out, completely unlike his usual easygoing self. "What the fuck is molecular cell biology?"

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "In general?" you replied, already picturing the hours that it would take to explain the subject. Finals be damned, apparently.

"Can you just come over?" he groaned. "If you aren't doing anything."

You glanced back at the flashcards on your desk. "I'm not doing anything."

So here you were, knocking on the door of Art Donaldson's dorm. You heard rustling from the other side, making you wait just a beat longer in the dimly lit hallway. You rocked back and forth on your heels, chewing the inside of your cheek and rethinking your current appearance. The oversized Stanford hoodie, mess of your hair, and lack of makeup now seemed ill-fitting for a meeting with the boy who had somehow winded his way into becoming your crush. You felt like a kid again, back in high school.

You were starting to worry you had the wrong room until the door swung open, bathing the hallway in a golden, hazy light. There stood Art, moving his large frame out of the way to gesture you into his room with a short greeting and a "thank god." You didn't know what you expected, really, but there you were, slinking a little too closely past him as he stood in his doorframe. You felt his breath on the back of your neck as he stood behind you, guiding you to his tiny desk in the corner of the room. His hands ghosted over the small of your back, and you felt his warmth, despite him not actually touching you.

The room itself was small. It wasn't unlike yours, or any of the others on campus. But it somehow felt smaller with Art next to you, burying his face in his hands every time you patiently explained a concept you'd gone over already. His face. He was so close to you now, the quiet of the night and the room only making you feel closer.

The energy of this study session felt so different from all your others in the past. You weren't in a classroom, or meeting him after practice in the library. You were seeing another side of Art, the part of himself he didn't publicize. Every freckle, the stretch of his faded t-shirt over his body, the curls he brushed out of his eyes every now and again, the way he flexed his callused hands as he cracked his knuckles, a nervous fidget.

It felt like time slowed down. You labored over the biology textbook, finding practice questions and asking him some of your own. You were gentle, cautious. Maybe it was the weird intimacy of the moment, maybe it was the lack of air in the cramped dorm. Your voice was soft, and you couldn't help but notice how the tension Art held over the phone and when you entered the room melted away. Did you do that? You felt this reciprocation, possibly imagined. But whenever you cracked a dumb joke, he'd laugh and put a hand on your arm. The contact always made you freeze. The touch was a reminder he was real, he was tangible. Every fleeting gaze, every smile in your direction.

You had almost reached the end of the chapter, and Art was getting almost every practice question right. You fidgeted with a sheet of his messy notes, reading it over to continue some rant you were on about RNA.

"...made up of nucleotides, which are ribose sugars attached to nitrogenous bases and phosphate groups..." You trailed off, looking up from the papers only to find his gaze already on you. How long had he been looking at you? And the way he looked at you...

"Do you want to take a break?" He tilted his head.

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to fight your smile. "Sure."

He got up with an over-exaggerated sigh and stretched his arms over his head, exposing the bottom of his toned abdomen. For a moment. He reached under his desk, pulling out a box of some cheap canned beer. He popped the tab of a can, taking a long draw and passing it to you.

You looked away from his watchful eyes as you took a sip. Your face heated as you took into account the fact you were drinking from the same can he had.

You winced. "God, that tastes like ass."

"Sorry." He laughed, taking the can from you. Warm, callused fingertips brushing against yours.

"I didn't take you for a Steel Reserve kinda guy."

"What did you take me for?"

"I don't know. Gatorade?"

"Okay." He shook his head. "No more for you."

"Wait, wait, okay, I take it back."

He held out the can for you again.

"Mhm."

"Still taste like ass?"

"It tastes like what I imagine WD-40 tastes like."

You felt your heart swell as he laughed at that. You hadn't noticed how the two of you now sat impossibly closer, thighs brushing, shoulders sending sparks whenever they met. The half-empty can of beer felt like a nervous talisman being passed back and forth between you. Dumb jokes tumbled easily from your lips, punctuated by laughter that echoed weirdly loud in the quiet room. Finals week stress had completely evaporated, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the shitty beer.

It was so easy, talking to Art. Easier than it should have been, considering you were explaining the intricacies of cellular respiration to a man who once thought mitochondria were a type of pasta. But he listened, truly listened, his eyes locked on yours. You caught yourself getting lost in their depths, a dizzying kaleidoscope that mirrored the nervousness in your stomach.

He leaned in, as if to hear you better, and you mimicked the movement unconsciously. The space between your faces shrunk, the air thick with unspoken words. His gaze did its familiar dance—right eye, lips, left eye—and this time, it lingered on your lips a beat too long.

A sudden self-consciousness washed over you. Should you pull back? This wasn't your intention. But before you could overthink it, Art's lips were hovering over yours, a question in the way they hovered, hesitant but hopeful.

"This okay?" His voice was impossibly low, breathy, quiet. His eyes raked over your features, eye contact shifting from left to right, back and forth. His hand, warm and calloused came up to cup your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

"Yeah." You breathed.

The kiss, when it came, was soft and unexpected. More of a tentative exploration than a passionate assault. It tasted of desperation and relief, of unspoken feelings finally finding a voice.

Your hands moved from your sides to toy with the curls on the back of his head, earning a barely audible groan from Art. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his other hand moving down to pull you impossibly closer by the small of your waist. His touch was shy, tender.

After what felt like forever (and you wouldn't have minded had it been), you pulled away slowly, breathless, a blush painting your face. His eyes searched yours for some unknown answer. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged rhythm of your breath.

A slow smile spread across his face, mirroring the one blooming on yours. "God, you're so pretty."

Leaving Art's dorm room felt like navigating a dream. Your head spun, a mix of the cheap beer and the potent aftertaste of the kiss. Your lips still tingled where his had been, a brand new sensation that sent shivers dancing down your spine. Relief, sweet and unexpected, washed over you. Months of stolen glances, late-night calls disguised as study sessions, and a simmering tension that had threatened to consume you—all of it had culminated in that single, electrifying kiss.

As you walked down the quiet hallway, a giddy smile stretched across your face. It wasn't just the kiss itself, though that replayed in your mind in a loop—hesitant, searching, then deepening with a shared sense of discovery. It was the way he'd looked at you afterwards, his eyes soft with unspoken emotions, mirroring the whirlwind in your own chest. A nervous flutter remained in your stomach, a delicious mix of excitement and uncertainty.

But beneath it all, a quiet confidence bloomed. He felt it too. This wasn't just some fleeting moment, a stolen kiss in the dead of night. It was a turning point, a bridge crossed, and the future, once shrouded in the haze of exams and unspoken feelings, now shimmered with possibility.

[remotewatch]

some call it arrogance

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 2.5k wc

summary: Let’s face it: you kind of suck at paddleboarding. Thankfully, your boyfriend is an eager instructor with a trick up his sleeve!

cw: shameless smut, outdoor recreation, questionable teaching, peppy upbeat softdom jack (good lord), fingering, unprotected sex, if you want to keep your plan b go VOTE ‼️‼️, play fighting, jd is catching strays, this is somewhat a comedy

minors dni and stay out!!!!

Time and time again, you realize that you and Jack have very different definitions of what constitutes a short paddle. You could pass out right here on your little break, sun hat plopped over your face and one leg dangling in the pleasantly cool water. He tugs you closer to his board to drum a few fingers on your knee and ask “You asleep?” just as you’re drifting off.

A barely audible “mhm” is all you care to let out. Jack’s hand slides to your inner thigh, a polite veneer of concern slapped onto his more crude interests.

“Do you need something?” When you lift your hat to squint over at him for being so euphemistic, he’s already zapping you with those doe eyes you struggle to resist.

“Diva, the telephotos,” you mumble as you flop back down. There’s almost certainly no one hiding out in the mangroves waiting to catch you two, but the press had noted the extension of your Japan trip to stop at Iriomote. Your growing collection of condemning paparazzi pics is already nudging at the edge of your mind, and you have no desire to add to it today.

“They can’t get a good shot this far out.” His hand stills when you don’t murmur back how much of a whore he’d have to be to know that so definitively.

“Here, let’s get out of the sun for a bit. Get you a honey stick or something.” A grateful thumbs up is the most movement you care to make.

As much as you like getting into Jack’s hobbies with him, it’s undeniably more fun to have him tow you around whistling Elvis tunes like your little chauffeur. It would be so easy to fall asleep to the sound of it paired with the waves crashing in the distance; maybe you do; it’s really none of your business.

The temperature suddenly drops, and you briefly tilt your hat up to see he’s steered you into a particularly thick mangle. It’s a straight, narrow shot from it up to the shore; exactly the type of hidden launch he’d know about.

He turns around from rooting in the supply bag and waggles a fanned out selection of power bars, honey straws, and glucose gels at you.

“What’re we having today, huh?” Still hiding under your hat, you grasp blindly until you find a few straws and tear one open with your teeth, shoving your dentist’s exasperation to the back of your mind. Jack knows better than to pester you until your temperature and blood sugar level out a bit. Eventually, you rise from the dead and get a better look at your spot.

The mangrove roots here are as thick as you’ve ever seen and rise far enough out of the water that you could set up a hammock under them. Schools of diminutive silver fish swirl beneath the surface, bouncing light back up to paint the underside of the overhead foliage. The two of you are technically visible from open water, but a pap would have to drop anchor at the perfect angle to get more than a glimpse. You remind yourself that you’re on the west side of the island anyway; surely there’s more exciting things to report on than America’s most notorious SUP proficiency gap relationship.

“You’re getting better, you know.” You gnaw at a second honey straw and scrunch up your nose.

“Am I?”

“For sure. Remember Lake Superior?”

“God, must I?” you groan, wincing at the mere thought.

“Gotta appreciate where you started!” Jack is laid out on his board doing alternate toe touches, and the fact that it’s more of an unconscious ritual than a way of showing off his balance makes it all the more annoying.

He’s truly so pretty, even after putting your legs through hell on the way out. The little gaps in the mangrove canopy cover him in spots of sunlight, and he still refuses to buy a smaller pair of shorts, just rolling down the hem of those ratty old ones until they’re shorter than any of yours. You’re too busy watching them fall further down his thighs with every leg raise to notice he’s still talking.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said-,” Jack finishes the last of his coconut water and smacks his lips. “Why don’t you stretch a bit before we head back?” You press your hands flat as if to push yourself up, and he notes your hesitation.

“What is it?”

“…Can you spot me?” His smile cracks his whole face open like a fresh daffodil, clearly thrilled to be needed.

“Why, certainly.”

You brace yourself as he slides onto your board as easily as scooting closer on the couch, quads flexing delectably while he helps you stand up.

“Do a forward bend for me,” Jack effortlessly slips back into his instructor cadence, to the point that you could forget he’s your boyfriend aside from his hands feeling far more than professionally comfortable on your hips. He leans up against your backside to peer over you as you place your palms flat on the deck, not bothering to conceal how much it excites him. After the tension of the paddle out and stiffening up during your nap, the stretch in your hamstrings is virtually orgasmic. Jack doesn’t miss the little sigh of relief you let out, nor do you the the smugness that spills into his voice.

“And walk it out, just like that,” you can feel him staring at your ass and can’t even kick his shin without knocking you both over.

“Can you at least pretend to enjoy this a little less?” it doesn’t sound very commanding with his dick pressed right up against you before you shift into downward dog. Even less so when he knows how much you love a good calf stretch, knows exactly how far to push you into it to make you melt in his hands.

“If I’m not happy to be here, how can I expect you to have any fun?” There’s a brief wobble as he reaches to grab your ankles and help you move to a headstand, but one shift of his heel and you might as well be back on dry land.

“That’s why I said pretend.”

“That’s why I’m not an actor. And, push yourself up!” If nothing else, you’re decent at handstands, at least with Jack ready to catch your legs. Decent on a good day, that is, when the humidity isn’t bleeding your energy like a stuck pig. Your right palm slips into the water, and you screw your eyes shut in anticipation of a face full of board and a few tree bark scrapes.

“Fuck!” you hiss, but his grip instantly locks down on your ankles and lifts you out of the line of fire. Jack’s obliques ripple as he rights the board, and he’s very clearly pleased to catch your notice of it.

“That’s alright, you had a few good seconds there.” He lets you swing a few moments longer than necessary before lowering you back down and piping up again. Ever the show-off.

“It’s always…,” he hesitates as if he’s searching for the right words. “-been my understanding that if you can balance on all fours in unfavorable circumstances, you can stay standing just fine.”

“And what kind of unfavorable circumstances would you be talking about?” it’s obvious, though you’d rather hear him say it. He knows you too well to take the bait and cheekily rolls his eyes.

“You know, the favorable ones.”

“Is that what they teach you at surf instructor school?” Your hands are back on the board now, and you kick one foot free to slide it down his chest under his shorts.

“Oh yeah, the first thing,” he chuckles, fishing it out before helping you down into a plank.

Jack somehow wriggles his way under you without causing any major upheaval, claiming it’s the easiest way to check your form. He’s talking like this is your first time on a board just to wind you up and making no attempt to hide how much he enjoys doing so.

“Now, there’s nothing to it, just gotta make sure you’re not leaning too far to the left-“ he tugs at one of your bikini ties.

“Or the right,” he twists the other between his fingers, not quite loose enough to fall off, but certainly plenty of room for him to slide his fingers below your waistband. His smile grows wider when he pulls them back out to observe their newfound shine. You have a halfhearted go at defending your reactivity.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh yeah? You’re pulling a JD, getting riled up by the dolphins?” If your balance or endurance were half as good as his, you’d shove him off your board and ditch him right there. The best you can do is double down; a bit pitiful, but better than giving him any satisfaction right after that bullshit.

“And these are the unfavorable circumstances? Seriously?” It’s more the stupid fucking grin on his face than the controlled circles he’s tracing on your clit that’s disrupting your concentration. You’re hoping that focusing on the space between Jack’s eyebrows will keep your mind blank, but his fingers feel better and better the more you try to ignore them sliding around like he’s trying to memorize every cell you’ve got down there.

“It would be deeply irresponsible of me to throw you right into the deep end. Safety first, after all.”

“So irresponsible,” the mocking tone you’re going for doesn’t really work when your pitch is stuttering in perfect response to his movements.

Your eyes slip closed out of habit, but he’s right there playfully pinching your nipple to bring you back to reality.

“Hey, now! No daydreaming during your lesson! That’s not very considerate to your instructor,” he’s trying to pout up at you, hit you right in your weak spot, but he looks far too pleased with himself for the illusion to work.

“What if he deserves it for comparing me to a bloated couch fucker?” Again, the conviction isn’t really there when you’re bending your knees into terrible form trying to chase his touch every time they recede.

Jack yanks his fingers away, sucks them clean with a slippery pop, and kisses you on the point of your chin before shuffling out from under you.

“Clearly you’re not being challenged enough if you can complain like that!”

This time, you do try to kick him off the board, but you have no range at all to put some power into it. That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

“Look at you! You wouldn’t have been able to do that at Lake Superior. Told you you’re getting better!” He’s tugged his shorts down and your swimsuit to the side before you can snap at him, and he actually cackles when he sees how much your lats twitch when he first slides in.

“You’re unbelievable.” The way your voice shakes makes it sound more like a compliment than a last ditch effort to compose yourself.

“That’s what I’ve heard! There you go, arch for me.” He’s not causing much motion yet, only waves big enough to scatter the fish, but you’re wound so tight he might as well be putting you straight through the deck. Your arms are already shaking, and of course Jack notices; how could he not?

“Keep your arms steady. No, don’t lock them up, lean into it,” he’s saying like they’re not on fire, like you can’t feel yourself clamping down on him in some sort of weird unified muscular system effort to keep you from falling on your face.

“Can’t believe y-“

“How fast you’re progressing? I know, right! You must have a pretty good teacher!” He’s absolutely insufferable. You’ve been moving nonstop since dawn, he’s got your ass locking up like an NDA, and his voice is still perfectly fucking steady.

Jack’s middle finger just barely trails along your side, feather-light enough to raise goosebumps on your skin.

“You’re holding too much tension here.” Thank god, he mercifully spares you the lecture about proper abdominal engagement.

“Jack, I can’t- I’m gonna fall!” The wavering in your voice is so unbelievably humiliating when he’s barely breaking a sweat. Your arms buckle, threatening collapse, and there he is seamlessly shifting his hands from your hips to swing under your torso and support you when they finally give out, the other splaying flat across the deck.

“Noooo you’re not, you’re fine. You can have a little break, and then we’ll try again, okay?” All while his thrusts remain infuriatingly consistent. The board barely even moves when he catches you. Your nails scrabble at the deck pad, then the limb supporting you, trying to regain your balance, ground yourself, Jesus, something, but he’s got a better angle now and can haul you back onto his dick as hard as he likes without worrying about your arms giving out.

“You’re such an asshole!” you sob as you claw at his forearm.

“Tell me to stop then! Be silly and turn down a free lesson, why dontcha?” Any attempts you make to thrash your way out of Jack’s grasp just stimulate you more, and he’s suppressing a fit of laughter watching you jolt like you’re stuck in a bear trap. When all that’s left for him to knock out of you are little stilted squeals, his resolve softens, and he leans down to kiss your ear.

“I know you can do it. Push yourself up for me.”

The only way out is through. This time, your arms do lock up; blame the unfavorable circumstances. The world narrows to tunnel vision as you watch the board tilt left, then right, with the ringing in your ears making the whole spectacle feel a tinge nightmarish.

Your orgasm hits you hard enough to have Jack choking out an “oh, fuck” that sounds just as strangled as his dick must feel. You can hardly enjoy it over both of your triceps cramping terribly, though you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself for staying dry when you slump to your elbows halfway through.

As unceremoniously as Jack thuds down at your side, he still instinctively spreads out enough to keep the board steady. He looks about ready to fall asleep, so of course you roll over to bother him.

“Is that how you taught people to surf?”

“Nah, they were way more advanced.”

“Fuck you!” He’s back on his board and paddling out of the inlet in a flash, somehow not flipping yours in the process.

“Sounds like someone doesn’t need any breaks on the return trip!” By some miracle, you manage to grab his leash before he flies past you.

“You’ll tow me back.” Jack spares you a full glance over his shoulder, and there’s an unmistakable streak of you remaining on the left side of his mouth.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m your favorite student.”

[sunnitheapollokid]

♡ ⑅˚₊ going soft on me, hargreeves ? PART ONE.

a five hargreeves multi-fic . . 🌻🕰️ — intro.

warnings : minor cursing .ᐟ mentions of blood.

author’s note : MOSTLY BASED THIS OFF RAPUNZEL READER because tangled is my favorite movie and she’s literally me 🙈 (atp this is a self-insert) AHH but also almost like harley quinn-ish? BUT WHATEVERR happy reading cuties <3

five wiped the blood off his face with his navy blue jacket’s sleeve. his siblings all feeling and looking defeated against the sparrows.

“i’ve never had my ass handed to me like that before.” luther spoke faintly, five squinted under the sun in attempts to relax his body off from that spur of the moment fight. “it’s like,” luther spoke again. “here you go.” he motioned his hands at a confused allison. “it’s your ass.”

despite the pain, five couldn’t get his mind off one of the sparrows. the younger one, with the upbeat personality. he was too busy fighting jayme, but he was incredibly intrigued by her. he could watch her fight diego and allison for a bit, with her own powers. — which was light manipulation.

during the fight, five watched her play with her hands and the light that poured in the hargreeves’ mansion as a distraction for her siblings.

viktor sat by five, “someone’s crushing.”

“yeah, me.” diego replied, stretching his back.

allison rolled her eyes, “i don’t think that’s what viktor meant.” she moved her eyes towards five, who stared at all of them like they were crazy. “a real delight that number eight was, wasn’t she?” klaus commented with a light-hearted laugh. “let’s just find a place to stay, yeah?” five rolled his eyes.

— 𐙚₊˚⊹ ⭐️

five needed a break from his siblings. the hotel klaus had found for them wasn’t half bad, but the coffee they served was complete, and in his words : ‘dogshit.’ which was the only downside of it all really. a very big downside.

five walked into griddy’s donuts in attempts to get a decent cup of coffee. he sat down and waited for her order to be taken when, “umbrella asshole?” one of the waiter’s asked him. it was number eight, just in a diner uniform, and holding a pitcher of coffee.

she looked at him confused. “what are you doing here?” five furrowed his brows, “i should be asking you that.” he retorted. she gave out a big smile at that. “okay ‘ya grump, i work here, actually!” she gave a charming wink as she poured him a cup of coffee.

“i take it you’re a black coffee kinda guy?” her voice overlaping the sound of the coffee pouring in. he took the cup and sipped, “am i suppose to be flattered by that observation?” he asked upon putting the cup down. “i’m just very curious is all.” he fought the urge to mirror her infectious smile.

“also, it’s not just number eight, it’s (name). or — (nickname) if you want.” if it was possible, she smiled brighter. how can anyone be so cheery? five thought to himself. also, why isn’t she kicking my ass right now? “anything to eat for you?” she pulled her pretty and sticker-covered notepad out.

he shook his head, “not hungry. far too much things on my mind.” he tapped his foot on the ground. (name) watched him, his anxious stance and his constant worried eyes. “wait here, yeah?” she spoke before running off to the back of the diner. five watched her rush away, only to come out a few moments later with a plate of waffles, eggs, and a few slices of strawberries.

she placed the plate before him, the maple syrup on top with a smiley face. “what’s this?” he asked with a dead-panned expression planted. (name) shrugged as she sat across him, “my treat, silly.” she beamed another smile at him.

five was hesitant, but took the fork from beside the plate and started digging in. his eyes grew wide at the taste, it was delicious. it felt like being home again. “it’s mom’s recipe. nobody really calls her mom besides me, they make fun of me for it.” she giggled lightly.

five looked at her, “it’s really good.” after five finished he put the fork on the plate and put it away. “thank you! also, i’m very sorry for this five.” she cackled a little more, a confused five realized his mistake and stood up, the girl began fighting him.

she attempted to punch him on the side of his face, but he dodged it with his forearm. he returned the attacked with a kick to her face, blood oozing out of her might-be broken nose. she laughed, impressed, wiping the blood off with her fingers. they began fighting more, to which people inside had run off and evacuated.

(name)’s boss continued to yell at her to stop, but (name) knew damn well she wasn’t going to stop. she hit five in the stomach with her knee, five hunching over, and (name) continued with a back-kick on the side of his face. five coughed before pushing her into the table.

“you fight real good, for a seventeen year old.” she spat the blood out of her mouth on the floor. “and you fight really weak for a girl who can manipulate light.” five time-jumped on the table she’d collided her back with, and tried to kick her once again on the face, but to his surprise only met a blinding light.

and once five was distracted trying to find his vision again, (name) pulled his feet out to get him on his back. five landed with a thud! the pain rising from the bottom of his ass to his back. “lunch is served!” her laugh echoed across the diner. five time-jumped again, under the counter.

(name) looked for him, her platforms clanking on the ground. “where are you five? we’re not done here yet, grump.” she sang, another laugh escaping her lips. she spat another puddle of blood out of her mouth. five panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

this girl was crazy. how could she be laughing at a time like this? and how was it that she was killer fighter? “come on five, you going soft on me hargreeves?” she walked the place around a little bit more. is that why diego and allison looked that bad after the fight back at the mansion? because of her?

“there you are handsome.”

[mokulule]

Take Out for Dummies - Part 3

Aka Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may or may not have been a misunderstanding.

First | Masterpost

Jason had carefully checked their surrounding for cameras, but they ended up doing as Danny had suggested, sitting back to back each with their own collection of various meats and vegetables on sticks.

Danny groaned and leaned his weight back against Jason. “What is it about food on a stick that makes it so delicious?”

Jason chuckled, “I don’t know.”

It was simple fare, charred just the right amount from the grill and spicy in a way that warmed.

There was a moment of silence.

“You have a very nice voice, you know? Like I get the voice modulation is meant to be scary and all and it makes sense. Just… you have a nice voice.”Jason swallowed. He wasn’t sure why his throat felt so tight all of a sudden.

“Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say.

They finished eating and Danny jumped up with renewed restless energy, still turned away from Jason.

“Tell me when you’re decent.”

Jason snorted as he pulled the helmet back on and it came online. “I’ll show you indecent.”

Danny squeaked. Jason turned around to find him hiding his face in his hands in embarrassment. At least Jason wasn’t the only one with the dirty thoughts.

“Alright-“ Jason peeled one of Danny’s hands away to hold it, “show the way. Are we breaking in?”

“Uh-“ Danny looked from Jason to the hand, his cheeks were dusted a very becoming pink - turnabout really was fair play. Finally he seemed to come back online as he shook his head.

“No, I have a key.”

Jason grabbed the trash bag in his other hand as Danny was still carting around his unicorn.

“Why do you have a key to the ice rink?”

“I do maintenance here sometimes, so I asked to borrow the rink for tonight.”

“Are there anyone in Gotham you don’t know at this point?”

“I’m sure there are plenty still,” Danny answered the rhetorical question as he opened the roof access door. Why that was the door he had a key to was another question entirely. Though they may of course just all use the same key.

They went down a stairwell and out into the cold hall with the frozen rink as centerpiece. Jason eyed Danny’s thin button down shirt, if he’d planned this why hadn’t he brought a jacket?

“There’s skates over there,” Danny pointed to the skate renting counter on the left side of the room. “will you grab me a pair of size seven skates, while I turn on some music and lights?”

Jason did as asked jumping the counter. There was a convenient trash can behind the counter where he could dump the bag.

When he returned to the main hall with skates in hand his eyes widened. When Danny had said turn on the lights he hadn’t expected them to be from those multicolored disco balls, nor for the music to put them back to the 70’s with an upbeat disco track.

“What do you think?” Danny yelled from where he ducked out from an operator room.

“It’s something alright,” Jason yelled back as he sat down on one of the benches and started pulling his boots off. He snorted as he realized something: if this was still an elaborate hit, Danny would be the type to love the double pun of taking out Red Hood by putting him on ice.

Jason didn’t actually think this was a hit. Hadn’t thought so in quite a while. He’d let his guard down.

Danny walked over with that small smile on his face that made Jason wonder if this was just his base state; just happy, enjoying himself, doing his little odd jobs, helping kids out for pebbles because he could, taking Red Hood out on a date.

Jason still didn’t know what to think about that. Like even if he genuinely thought whoever asked him to take out Red Hood meant on a date, there was still that logic break where Danny had decided, yeah sure sounds like a fun time, let’s just corner the former crime lord current vigilante on a rooftop in the middle of the night to ask his date preferences.

Danny was definitely not normal in any sense of the word, but Jason found that he couldn’t help but like that. Some good kind of crazy in this city for once.

“Never been to a skating disco before?” Danny asked when he within easy speaking range.

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Well not that there’s really any expectations here since it’s just the two of us, so we can do whatever.” Danny grinned, sat down next Jason and pulled his shoes off. He was in his skates and jumping to his feet in no time at all. He wobbled, and windmilled his arms so as not to fall and Jason had to grab him and steady him.

“Are you sure you have tried this before?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great skater.” Danny sniffed, brushing Jason off, as he started awkwardly walking towards the rink in his skates.

“Just not at walking in them.”

Danny sent him a bewildered look. “Nobody is good at walking in skates.”

Jason rolled his eyes and tightened and tied off the last lace. He didn’t jump up carelessly like Danny, instead he rose and took careful steps. While it was indeed neither comfortable or normal to walk on the bladed edge of the skates, he did make it seem a great deal more natural than Danny had.

Danny stuck out his tongue at him for that and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Join me on the ice and we’ll see who’s laughing.” With that he stepped onto the ice in a languid, confident glide, that immediately made it clear, that Danny did indeed know how to skate.

But Jason was no slouch either. He could skate even if it’s been a while and he never said no to a challenge. It took a moment for Jason to get used to the ice below his feet, but he quickly gained both speed and confidence.

Danny caught his eyes then with a wink, turned, and built up speed in a few quick glides and then he was jumping off the ice, spinning in the air and at what seemed like last moment he landed on just one leg, the other leg stretched out behind him as he leaned forward in something almost like a bow.

Okay so it turns out Danny couldn’t just skate he could skate. As in he could do not just spins but flips - Jason could do flips fine on the ground; he was not quite Dick enough to try it on ice. Of course Danny was also being a little shit about it.

There was something about that smile he was sporting that made Jason just want to reach out and grab him - and do what? He wasn’t sure. But there was an invite to try and catch him in the way he glided around Jason, responding to Jason’s movements by darting away like a fish only to come back, but never close enough to reach.

Jason smiled. Okay, he would bite.

When next Danny passed, he lunged. Danny shot forward with a delighted laugh. Jason wasn’t far behind him, but Danny’s turns were needle point sharp as he lead Jason on a merry chase across the ice. He was slippery as a fucking eel, the way he kept himself just shy of Jason’s fingertips every time he reached for him.

He was doing it on purpose too, Jason realized. He was letting Jason get close only to twist and turn and escape with a laugh and leave Jason to regain the balance he lost by lunging. Jason didn’t immediately pick up the chase this time.

“What’s the matter Hood? Can’t keep up?”Jason huffed. No, he couldn’t. That much was clear at this point. But that didn’t mean the game was over. It only meant Jason had to work smarter not harder. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and started on a leisured circuit of the rink.

“Did you skate a lot as a kid?”

Danny came into Jason’s field of view, skating backwards effortlessly. There was a slight pout on his face at the interrupted game, but he answered Jason’s question, “Not really.”

“Huh, how did you learn to skate then?” Jason asked surprised.

That wiped away Danny’s pout and Jason felt a twinge of anticipation for what surely boded another fun story, but nothing could have prepared him for what actually came out of Danny’s mouth.

“I was taught by a yeti named Frostbite, he’s like my mentor in everything ice.”

“A yeti?” Jason spluttered.

Danny grinned in a way that showed he knew exactly how outrageous it sounded, but still kept his voice perfectly even when he said, “yes, it’s their national sport.”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Uh huh, and where did you meet this yeti?”

“A place called the Far Frozen, not many people have heard of it. They tend to be rather reclusive.”

Danny didn’t falter one moment in his explanation. He either had a selection of stories he told or he was extremely good at improvising. He was also suddenly within reach, guard down as he thought Red Hood had given up on the game.

Jason lunged. Danny’s eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake and tried to backpedal, but it was too late. Jason had him wrapped in his arms. They both went down overbalanced from Danny’s struggle. Jason twisted them so he took the brunt of the fall. Danny didn’t deserve to be caught beneath 225 pounds of vigilante even if he’d been asking for it.

They laid there on the ice catching their breaths.

“Bastard, you caught me.” Danny finally spoke giggling like he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have-“ Jason stopped, finally noticing how cold Danny was. “You’re freezing!”

“No really it’s fine-“ Danny protested as Jason pulled him back up, but Jason wouldn���t have it.

“Who forgets to wear a jacket when going skating,” Jason grumbled pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around Danny shoulders. It looked comically large hanging off Danny’s small frame, but Jason only gave himself a small moment to appreciate it before drawing Danny close again.

It took a moment but then Danny relaxed into the hold.

“How’s this? Better?” Jason asked after a while.

Danny looked up his eyes wide and blue and maybe a little overwhelmed. “Y-yeah.”

Jason frowned looking around to locate the bench where their shoes were. “We should probably get out of this cold.”

“No,” Danny said immediately pressing close, then flinched, before saying quietly, “can we just stay like this for a bit?”

Jason blinked in confusion. It didn’t make sense to stay in the cold, but he found himself agreeing quietly.

The music at this point had turned to quieter songs. Jason was starting to feel the cold himself by staying still, and he started to sway to the music, moving just a little across the ice. Danny looked up. He wiggled around and it took only a moment for him to actually find the sleeves and push his arms through. Jason let go to let him and soon found his hands captured in still cold but no longer freezing hands.

“Dance with me?” Danny asked.

Jason couldn’t say no to that, but “I’ve never danced on ice before.”

Danny grinned and glided back in close, getting them positioned for a waltz. “It doesn’t have to be right, but you lead and I’ll follow and make sure we don’t fall on our asses.”

Jason scoffed as he lead them into a glide that had Danny moving along mostly backwards on the ice.

“You don’t trust me to follow.”

“No,” Danny grinned, “But I do trust you to catch me.”

Jason rolled his eyes fondly behind the helmet. Then dipped Danny suddenly to make him prove it. There wasn’t a hint of struggle, he stayed relaxed in his hold as if they’d danced together like this a million times. Jason didn’t know what to do with that, and pulled him back up.

Jason didn’t know how long they danced. Danny had started talking quietly after a while admitting he hadn’t gone on a date since he went to high school, and got Jason to admit he liked reading. but he did know his feet were starting to hurt. Still he was reluctant for it to be over.

It was only when Danny failed in hiding a yawn they left the rink.

-

Jason rolled the bike to a smooth stop putting one foot down to keep balance. He let go of the handlebars and straightened up to allow Danny to get off.

However instead of getting off Danny took off the helmet, hung it on a handlebar and twisted around bringing his legs up until he faced Jason and could wrap them lightly around Jason’s waist. Jason’s mind went blank at the way it brought them closer, the only thing keeping the position somewhat decent for the public was the unicorn now squished between them. If Jason now wished he’d never won the thing, that was a secret he was taking to his second grave.

“So,” Danny said conversationally, wrapping his arms loosely around Jason’s neck, leaning his forearms on his shoulders almost thoughtfully, “I had fun.” He smiled. “I hope you also had fun, that was the whole purpose after all.”

He paused - maybe waiting for a response, but Jason didn’t even know what to say. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he had fun. That was- Red Hood wouldn’t do that. He’d already behaved way too much like himself tonight.

There was a momentary frown on Danny’s face before it smoothed out replaced by a soft smile, that Jason had no idea what to do with. “This is the point where a successful date is usually rewarded with a kiss - you can say no?”

Jason stiffened.

Surely he wasn’t going to?!

Danny leaned in, his smile turned wicked for a moment as his hands splayed out on either side of the helmet. Jason needed to stop him, but instead his traitorous hands landed on Danny’s waist.

He needed to push him away; he didn’t.

Danny’s hands tightened on the helmet, pulling-

Except he didn’t pull the helmet off, he just pulled Jason closer and tilted his head backwards and then pressed his lips to the helmet, right were his mouth would have been. It was chaste, but not just a quick peck. No, it was a slow and languid press in a way that made Jason all too aware that there was little more than an inch between their lips, but it might as well have been miles for the barrier between them. Slow in a way that made Jason’s breath catch in his throat and his treacherous brain wish Danny had removed the fucking helmet.

Danny drew back, his blue eyes practically sparkling in mischief and he lightly bonked his forehead against the helmet before twisting around again and jumping off, Jason letting him reluctantly.

“See you around, Hood.” Danny waved once before he started walking down the road, unicorn plushie under one arm, utterly unafraid to walk the most crime ridden streets of Gotham in the early hours of the morning. Presumably he was going home to his mystery residence.

Jason should follow him. It was the perfect time to find out more about the mystery that was Odd-Job Danny. It was why he’d agreed to the date in the first place. Right?

Instead his brain was going around in circles, wondering if he had pulled up his helmet when Danny first mentioned the kiss, not pulled it off of course, just up to his nose or so, would Danny have gone through with it? Would he have actually kissed him? Or did he only do it because he knew the helmet was there in between them?

Did Jason want him to kiss him?

Fuck. He did.

Danny was gone now, nowhere to be seen. Whatever chance he’d had of figuring out more was gone. And yet that seemed the least of Jason’s problems.

-

So that's the end of the date, though of course not the end of the story. Consider commenting or writing something in the tags if you liked it, things irl are gonna be very busy for the next year so I could use all the motivation for writing I can scrape together. You can subscribe at the masterpost for future updates. Next

[agaypanic]

hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming. 

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.” 

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen. 

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him. 

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace. 

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said. 

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail. 

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat. 

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.” 

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.” 

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.” 

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

[earthchica]

Funny How Times Flies | 4

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you and terry make the best of the end of the trip and promise to make time for each other despite being a short distance apart but you begin to have doubts.

warnings: fluff, angst, panic attack, short long-distance relationship, misunderstanding, first-ever argument, jealousy & possessive! terry, explicit smut (18+), fingering, handcuffing, breeding kink, dom/sub, unprotected sex, dirty talking, nicknames (baby, baby girl), words: (5k)

note: i really love how this chapter came out; it might be my favorite. please enjoy! Let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts.

series masterlist

-

You haven't been this happy and at ease in a very long time. This trip has been so excellent, and you’ve had so much fun with your friends, especially with Terry.

Today was the last day, and sadly, all of you had to leave tomorrow morning. Terry wanted this last day to be just the two of you, so first he surprised you with breakfast in bed.

"Good Morning, beautiful," Terry says, placing the tray in front of you and giving you a quick peck before grabbing his plate and sitting on the end of the bed.

You laughed at how cheerful he sounded. “Good morning, handsome!” You responded with a smile and grabbed the fruit bowl first.

"How did you sleep? I bet you slept hella good huh?," He teased with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at him, knowing what he was hinting at.

"I slept amazing, Terry, but I can’t walk now 'cause you had to do that thing," You said, eating out of the fruit bowl; you picked a strawberry and fed it to him, which he gladly took in his mouth.

"Thank you," Terry said, chewing the strawberry down before adding, "You mean the thing you were begging me for?" He asked with a chuckle, and you looked at him as he tilted his head towards you with a smile that caused your heart to flutter.

“Whatever!” You said, sticking your tongue out at him playfully, making him scoff, jump on you, and tickle your side. You bursted out of laughter, trying to push his hands away. “Terry, oh my god, stop.”

He continued to tickle

“That’s what I thought,” Terry stops, looking down at you with those pretty eyes of his. He was staring at you with this affection that made you feel shy. ”God, I love you,” He said, and your eyes widened, realizing what he was saying, and his eyes widened too.

He cleared his throat, moving off of you. “Uh…this breakfast is good,” Terry said, looking away from you. You sat up, sharing through his eyes as he went to talk about something, and you just went on with it to not make it awkward.

After breakfast, both of you got dressed and left the villa. You and Terry walked hand in hand and visited a few gift shops before finding yourselves in a taco restaurant and eating the best tacos you had.

Soon leaving there, you couldn’t help to ask. "So where are we going now?"

Terry shook his head and couldn't help but chuckle, finding your excitement adorable. "I thought we checked out one of the cenotes since we didn't get to go to one in Valladolid!"

"Terry, really???!!!" You asked, hugging his arm tightly, looking up at him with those big warm eyes of yours.

“Yeah, the van is waiting for us,” he said, motioning to the van crossing the street. You grabbed Terry’s hand and dragged him to the van.

The ride was filled with laughter and upbeat Latin music as the car meandered through vibrant landscapes beneath the top of towering trees.

Upon arrival, a guide escorted you to a location where you could change and securely store your belongings. You and Terry changed into swimwear before meeting a woman who assisted with lifeguard sizing.

The lifeguards fit snugly, ensuring your safety as you prepare to explore the cenote's inviting waters. The guide gave you a brief overview of the cenote's history and unique features, adding to the sense of wonder.

As you look at the water, you feel excitement and peace, the beauty of the place enveloping you like a warm embrace.

“Terry, this is truly breathtaking. Thank you!” you exclaimed, giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Anything for you, baby,” he responded. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.” He added, and you stopped him for a second, feeling yourself get a little panicked.

Terry could tell immediately by how your hand began to tremble in his. You didn't hear what he said; it was all muffled as you realized that you might be terrified of large bodies of water.

Your knees slightly knocked as you stared into the water as another couple jumped in with no problem. You started shaking your head and feeling yourself get worked up.

Terry grabbed your shoulders and told you to sit down. You tried to suppress your trembling, but you were failing, so he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey, baby…just take deep breaths." He instructed, and you did what you were told, closed your eyes, and took several slow, deep breaths.

"There you go…do you still want to do this?" Terry asked, cupping your cheek as your trembling turned to slowly fade away with his soft touch.

"Yes, let’s…let's do it," you said with another deep breath, and he took hold of your hand and walked you towards the edge of the water.

You and Terry slowly got in, feeling the refreshing and invigorating cool water. You were captivated by the vibrant marine life and the beautiful rock formations hidden beneath the surface.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning back against Terry. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the gentle rhythm of his breath matching the soothing lapping of the water.

“No need to thank me, baby. I’m always here if you need me,” Terry said, kissing your forehead, causing you to smile happily at the words he used, it was similar to what you told him.

“Look at those fish,” you said, pointing at a flash of color that darted past. “They’re like little jewels swimming through the water.” You added.

Terry chuckled, his laughter rich and warm, sending a thrill through you. He said, “Just like us, right? A couple of precious finds in this hidden paradise.”

Your eyes met, and the world around you faded at that moment. “You’re definitely a treasure,” you whispered, your voice barely above the sound of the water.

Terry turned slightly, brushing a braid behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your dark-brown skin.

“And you’re the most beautiful part of this place,” he replied softly. The sincerity in his voice made your heart race, a flutter of excitement igniting in your chest.

“You know, um, I meant what I said earlier…I do love you…I know it’s too soon to say it, but I feel it in my bones, and I know I do,” Terry said, his voice a soft murmur.

Your eyes sparkled, searching through his eyes, and there was truth behind him, a sincere expression on his face. He loved you, and you felt it grow with every intimate moment togather.

You loved him too, but you were a little scared to say it out loud, so you just said, “I know, Terry…..I don’t want this to end; I don’t want to return to the real world…"

You trailed off for a second, looking away. "And this feeling will change,” you confessed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

“Baby, I promise this feeling I have for you won't change. We'll make time for each other and create our own moments that we can cherish forever; we just gotta try and give it a chance” Terry suggested, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Your heart swelled at his choice of words, and you nodded, a smile blooming on your lips, sealing the promise with a soft kiss. In that perfect moment, surrounded by cenotes' beauty, you hoped you two kept the promise.

-

The shift back home wasn’t easy. The first week without Terry was tough, but he called you almost daily and facetime you sometimes at night.

The two of you lived in Louisiana, but you lived in Lafayette, and he lived close to New Orleans was about two hours away from each other.

Terry texted you one day that he was driving down to visit you for the weekend, and you were beyond excited. When you heard the doorbell ring, you rushed to the front door.

You practically swung the door open, and there Terry stood, looking so damn fine in a baseball cap, hoodie with sweatpants. His voice was like music to your ears when he said, "Hey, baby,"

You dragged him in with his suitcases before closing the door and jumping into his arms. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, not letting you go.

You felt him burying his face into your neck for a second before placing soft kisses on it, bringing butterflies to your stomach. You both stood there, holding each other for a few minutes,

Terry moves from your neck to kiss you softly. You place your hand on the back of his neck, and his tongue begins dancing against you, causing you to let out a light moan.

"Fuck. I missed you," He says, pulling away, resting his forehead against yours while staring into your eyes with a mixture of warmth and love.

"I missed you too, Terry," you said with a smile before slightly pulling away from his embrace, taking his hand, and guiding him to the table in your dining room.

"I made your favorite," he looked at the table and then back at you with a smile. At this very moment, Terry was happy to be here with you for a little bit.

Shortly after eating dinner, chatting, and enjoying each other's company, you were both in the living room, cuddling while watching a movie.

Clearly, neither of you was watching. "Terry, stop," you giggled, moving his hand away from the inside of your shirt. As much as you wanted him to take you, you love being a tease.

"Watch the movie," you said, pointing to the TV. He paused, removed his hands away from you, and crossed his arms while staring at you with a look.

"Don't make that face," you said, looking over at him. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, you began playing with his ear, causing him to smack his teeth.

"Why shouldn't I? I haven't seen you in weeks. I miss you and want to show you how much I do. I know you do, too," Terry said, giving you a knowing look.

You smiled, didn't say anything, and just rearranged yourself onto his lap and pulled him into a needy, passionate kiss. You pulled away for a second to take your shirt off.

Terry growls at the sight of your breasts; he's very weak. He caresses your body with his soft, large hands while leaving soft kisses on your neck.

His hands moved down your ass and squeezed it harshly before pulling you back into a kiss. Both of you stood from the couch and began to tear each other's clothes off.

You both feeling so aroused and craving for each other. Terry lifted you up, carrying your bridal style, and asked. "Where is your bedroom?"

"It's right around the corner," you said, helping him with the direction. He opened the door and glanced around your cozy bedroom before gently laying you on your bed.

Terry hovered over you and began kissing up your body; you could feel his throbbing, erect dick pressing against your leg. "Terry, please, no teasing. I need you now,"

You moaned as he began to kiss your wet folds. He looked up at you, seeing the need in your eyes. "Of course, my baby needs me." He nodded with a smirk, kissing his way back to your lips.

Terry positioned himself between your legs, and you moaned, wrapping your legs around his hips as you felt him thrusted forward, fulling you up good.

The very good feeling of his dick sliding into your wet pussy almost sent you over the edge. Without warning, Terry began pounding into you, making you grip his back.

Terry lowers his lips to yours and kisses you hungrily while still pounding into you with an unimaginable speed. He bites your shoulder and lets out a muffled moan.

He pulls away to look at you as you let out a moan, feeling yourself clench around his dick already. It was all so good, and desperately wanted to last.

"Ahh, fuck. I miss you, baby; I miss this pussy so much," Terry moans, rearranging the sex position to missionary to the lotus. He lifted you into his arms as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

"Fuck, fuck fuck me, Terry," You moaned, throwing your head back as you felt the undeniable, great pleasure that both of you were giving to each other.

The rocking rhythm of it all and the deep connection were sensational. Your moans were so loud together that you swear you were next-door neighbors who could hear the two of you.

You placed your forehead against Terry's, both of you panting heavily, looking into his beautiful, light eyes as his fast pounding drove you crazy.

"Ahh Yes, Terry. Fuck, I love you; I love this dick," You moaned, feeling your body begin to flutter as you felt yourself get closer to the edge of orgasm.

"You love me, huh?" Terry asked, pulling your hair sightly. You nodded shyly, not realizing you had blurted it out, and felt slightly nervous to repeat it.

"Come on, baby, let me hear you say it again," Terry said, tugging your hair again but a little harder than before, causing you to whimper in pleasure.

"I love you…I love you…I love you, Terry," you chanted loudly with every thrusted he gave you until he kissed you passionately, feeling satisfied.

"Mmm...I fucking love you too, baby so damn much." He moaned, grabbed your shoulders, and you moaned, burying your face into his neck.

Terry pounding harder and faster to the point both of you orgasm together. Both of you screamed each other's names as your bodies shook from the high.

Terry tries to stay steady and hold you but eventually falls on top of you towards the bed. After a few breaths, Terry pulls out, watching his cum dripping before cleaning you up.

He lays down next to you, caressing your cheek with his hand before Terry pulls you into his chest, hearing you mumbling something and you close your eyes and fall asleep from the good dick you just had.

The following morning, the sunlight shone through the blinds, casting on your glowing dark-brown skin, and Terry couldn't help but admire your beauty.

Your silk-pressed hair was sweated, your lips were open, and a little snore came from your mouth. He couldn't help but caress your cheek, lingering on your neck.

Terry smiled happily as you started to stir, slightly mumbling some under your breath as you stretched out your limbs before cuddling back into his chest.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks before they opened, revealing your warm eyes. You looked up at Terry with a slight smile, who was staring at you.

"You know it's not nice to stare," You said, yawning as his eyes sparkled with the light seeping in from the cracked blind. "I know I can't help it, you're so beautiful"

You felt your heart flutter; it was wonderful how this man affected you so strongly. "Good morning, baby," he added.

"Morning!" you said, yawning again. Terry smiled, but slowly, that smile turned into a frown. You were about to get out of bed, and he stopped you.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Terry asked, pulling you back into the bed, causing you to giggle. "To start my morning routine and shower if that's okay with you, handsome."

"Yeah, but only if I join," He said, kissing the sweet spot on your neck, causing you to let out a small moan.

"Mmm, okay, but you gotta catch me," You said playfully, rushing off the bed.

"Hey," Terry growled, jumping out of bed. You giggled as you ran into the bathroom; right behind you was him.

You and Terry had a fantastic weekend and continued to have those weekends, but as a few months went by, you two still made time for each other, working around strict job schedules.

You slowly felt this wouldn’t work out and began to distance yourself. Terry immediately noticed you weren’t answering his calls or texts like you used to.

You always give him a rundown of your day, morning to night, ask about him, make sure he's doing well, ask about his work, and try to plan another weekend to see each other.

“Hey, boss, everything alright?” One of his employees approached Terry with a concerned look on his face.

He nodded and said, “Yeah, you think you can hold down the restaurant for me? I got sort of an emergency”

“Sure thing, I got you. Go handle your business” Marcus nodded, giving him a dap and reassuring expression.

“Thanks, Marcus!” Terry said, grabbing his jacket and keys. He was so worried that he was on his way to Lafayette to see you and figure out what was wrong because he didn’t like this distance from you.

Meanwhile, you were just getting off work, checking your phone, and seeing multiple notifications from Terry. You sighed and ignored them.

You grabbed your bag and phone and went to look for an Uber on it since your car was in the shop until the next day. You were almost out of the door until you heard a familiar voice call your name.

“Hey, we’re going to get some drinks, you should come” Quentin said, walking alongside you and you weren’t gonna lie before you went on this trip and met Terry.

You had a slight crush on Quentin. I mean, he was a fine, brown-skinned brother with charm. You were surprised he was even talking to you.

You guessed that after coming back from the trip, you had this new glow that attracted more people. You were less shy and introverted and more talkative and open to others.

“Oh come on, it would be fun,” He said, and you thought about it for second looking into his brown eyes. “Okay, I’ll go, only because my car is in the shop and I need a ride home”

“Well, I’m your guy,” he said charmingly. You, Quentin, and a few other co-workers went to a bar and had a great time. Quentin made sure you went home, and you and the two were laughing.

Quentin walked you to your front door, not noticing the car in your driveway. Terry was watching the whole thing. He texted you earlier that he was here, but you didn't answer.

So he was just waiting for you to come home, and now seeing you and this guy, he thought the worst. However, he tried to keep a level head and not jump to conclusions.

“Thanks for inviting me and giving me a ride, Q. I had a lot fun” You said, turning towards him with a friendly smile.

“Of course, anytime. Um…I was wondering if…” He started, getting this look in his eyes, and you knew where this was going, so you stopped him quickly.

“I have a boyfriend,” You said shyly, looking away for a second, then back at him. He looked slightly disappointed but changed his expression fast.

“Oh, shit…of course you do, beautiful woman like had to be taken sorry,” Quentin said, and you were about to say something until you heard a car door open and closed loudly.

“What the hell is going on here?” A familiar voice came out. You and Quentin turned your head, and Terry came up from his car. You didn't notice it in the driveway.

Your heart began racing, and you felt slightly scared, not for yourself but for Quentin; you had not seen this level of fire and possessiveness in Terry's eyes until now. 

It was hot and scary at the same time. Terry approached your side, wrapped his hand tightly around your waist, and saw a look at Quentin.

“Uh…Quentin, this is my boyfriend, Terry, and Terry…” You started clearing your throat before you could finish your sentence. Terry cut you off and said, “I don’t give a fuck. Who is he? Why is he here?”

“My brother….was just.” Quentin began but Terry didn’t let him finish.

“I ain’t yo brother, I don’t fucking know you” Terry said, raising his voice a little bit and you placed your hand on his chest to calm him down while looking up at him.

“Terry, relax. Quentin is my coworker. Me, Him, and some of my other coworkers went out for drinks. He was just making sure I was getting home safe,” you explained, trying to reassure Terry, but the tension in his posture was still firm.

“Look…Ima go, I’ll see ya at work,” Quentin said to you before rushing off to get in his car and drive away fast. You scoffed, feeling slightly embarrassed.

You got your keys out, opened the front door, and looked at Terry, motioning him to get inside. Terry bit his bottom lip, looking away, before walking into the house, with you following him behind.

You closed the door, locked it, and placed your bag on the side table. “What was that, and what are you doing here?” You asked, following Terry into your living room and watching him go sit on the couch.

"Nah, I don’t think I need to explain myself. What’s up with you and the old boy?" he replied, folding his arms and looking at you.

"Terry…like I said, Quentin is just my co-worker, nothing more or less. You think I can't talk to other men just because I'm with you? Even when It’s just an innocent conversation!" you shot back, frustrated.

"It didn’t look like just an innocent conversation to me," Terry said defensively. "You were smiling at him like you wanted him or something."

"Don't make this into something it’s not, Terry," you said, calm but firm as you took your shoes off. "I was just being friendly and thanking him, that’s all."

"Friendly? You were practically fucking flirting with him!" Terry shot back, his expression tightening.

"Flirting? Is that what you call it? I was just being polite! You're being fucking ridiculous right now, Terry," you countered, crossing your arms in frustration.

Terry shook his head. "I don’t want you to talk to “Quentin” again. He was clearly interested, and he wanted something from you."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "Terry, I'm allowed to talk to people, especially my co-workers, man or woman. Plus, I made it clear to Quentin before you jumped out of your car and acted all possessive and shit….I told him that I have a boyfriend."

“I don’t want him or anyone else. I want you, Terry,” You added, moving towards him, and Terry's expression softened with a flicker of remorse.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I just….these past few days, you’ve been distant, not answering my calls or texts, and I needed to see you. When I saw you with Quentin, I don’t know; I just thought the worst and saw red, " he expressed.

You took a breath and grabbed hold of his hand before next to him on the couch. “I’m sorry too, Terry. I should’ve answered your calls and texts…I guess I’m still trying to work on my communication.”

“Hey, it’s okay," he started, looking at you softly. "Do you really drive two hours to come to see me?" You asked with a slight smile.

"Yeah, I was worried, baby. Whatever it is that's going on, I need you to know that I'm here to listen and that you don't have to shut me out. ” Terry said softly, kissing your hand, making your heart flutter.

“I thought this short long-distance relationship would work, but I’ve been doubting. I'm gonna be honest, Terry..." You paused for a second, looking away before back at him.

You added, "I can’t keep up with us driving two hours back and forth to see each other; I want you close and right by my side."

Terry took a breath and nodded before speaking. “I understand, baby and I can't either. So it got me thinking, and I've decided to move here and be here with you”

Your eyes almost bugged out. “What? No, I can’t let you do that, Terry. You gotta think this through…" You paused, searching his eyes, and you see he had made his mind up.

"My mind is made up," Terry said with a smile. "But your whole family lives in New Orleans, and your job, the restaurant. You would really give that up for me?” You asked, shaking your head.

“Yeah, it’s worth it because I want to be where you are, the woman I’m madly in love with." He starts caressing your cheek with his soft hand.

"I don’t want to lose you, baby. You are the best thing that ever happened to me in a long time. I’m not letting you go so easy,” Terry added.

His eyes locked onto yours, a fierce determination lighting them. You held his gaze, feeling everything else fade away as tears of happiness came down your face. "Okay, Terry."

"Okay, good!" he said, his voice low, filled with love and devotion that sent shivers down your spine.

"I missed you, you know that?" Terry said, pressing his forehead against yours and you nodded.

"I missed you too, Terry, so damn much!" You cried, and he pulled you into his chest and brushed a stray tear from your cheek.

You trembled at his touch as his fingers wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "I love you so much, baby. You know that, right?"

"I do, and I love you so much, too." It was almost a whisper on your lips, but he heard you. Terry smiled, slowly moved in, and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

You moaned softly, placing your hand on his cheek before slowly pulling away and grabbing hold of his hand. You got up, and he did the same and followed you to your bedroom.

You let go of his hand and went to your dresser. There, you grabbed a pair of handcuffs and handed them to Terry, whose eyebrows raised curiously.

"Do whatever you want with me; I'm yours forever, Terry," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. This caused him to grin and his eyes to darken.

"Mmm, my nasty girl wants to be handcuffed, huh?" He asked, roughly cupping your chin with his massive hand, causing you to whimper.

You nodded. "Yes!"

"Yes, who?" He asked, still cupping your chin while tilting his head to look at you with gentle dominance.

"Yes, Daddy!" You corrected, already feeling wet with the way he stared into your soul and towering over you with his height.

Terry lets go of your chin, straightening his posture, folding his hands against his stomach, and says, "Strip!"

You slowly take each piece of clothing off while keeping eye contact with him, watching the desire on his face deepen. You were completely naked now, slightly feeling a breeze hit your nipples.

"Mmm, so fucking gorgeous baby. Turn around," Terry says, motioning with his finger. You turn around and feel the heat of his hands on your wrist.

Terry wrapped the cold metal of the handcuff on you and locked them before giving your ass smack. He turned you around to face him and pressed his lips against yours, taking your breath away.

Terry pulls away and helps you get down on your knees before him. You bite your lip, looking up at him for a second, then to his pants. He unbuttons them and pulls them down with his boxer.

You let out a moan as your mouth began drooling at the sight of his big, juicy dick so hard and throbbing. Terry took his hoodie off before grabbing hold of your face.

"You think you can suck me with no hands for me, baby girl?" He asked, and you nodded with confidence. "Yes, I can Daddy"

"Mmm, okay. Go ahead, make Daddy proud," Terry said, hitting his dick against your face before you wrapped your mouth around his dick.

You started to suck him and bob your head slowly while looking up at him, causing him to moan. You began to move your head faster, making Terry grip the back of your head.

“Fuck, baby just like that, just like that” Terry moaned as you continued to suck him as he began to play with your breasts and you took him fully into your mouth,

He let out a moan at the warmth of your mouth, gripping your hair and popping you off of him. You gasped with saliva, looking up at him with desire in your eyes.

"Mmm, fuck I ain't gonna last if you keep looking at me like that, sweet girl. So fucking beautiful: Terry moaned, watching you sucking him back into your mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, open your mouth wider, baby," Terry chanted, grabbing your hair and beginning fucking into your mouth, causing you to moan and your eyes to water slightly.

He pulls out of your mouth, saliva dropping, and slaps his dick against your face causing you to chuckle. "Mmm, yes, love it when you slap me with your big dick."

“Shit...girl..." He continues, and then you take him back into your mouth. "Yes, yes, yes, just like that, keep sucking this dick so good” Terry bites his lip and throws his head back, moaning in pleasure.

You continued to bob your head up and down faster, looking into his eyes, always loving the expression of pleasure he made when you sucked him off.

"Shit, shit, shit, i'm gonna come!" Terry shouted, his panting extremely heavy. His muscles tensed up, veins almost popping from his arms with a loud moan.

You moaned muffled, feeling him release his seed into your mouth. The warm liquid trickled down your throat as he pulled out. You adjust yourself on the floor and taste his cum.

"Mmm, It tastes…sweet, Daddy," You said with a giggle, showing him the cum on your tongue, causing him to let out a moan at the amazing sight.

"You truly are my nasty girl!" He said after a couple of minutes of catching his breath. He went to get a wet washcloth to wipe your mouth before helping you up on the bed.

He didn’t waste any time on putting you on all four, spreading your ass cheeks, and pushing his tongue in your pool of sweetness and lavish wetness.

“Oh, ahhh, yes” You moaned into the sheets, feeling his tongue moving in and out of your wet pussy folds while adding two fingers into your dripping hole.

He began moving them back and forth between the two. Your moans chanted came louder than before as his tongue and fingers moved faster.

"Pussy is pretty and tastes so good, baby. So delicious, how am I so lucky to have you, huh?" Terry asked, giving you little licks here and there.

“Oh shit...Terry, don't stop, please,” You moaned, and he smirked, removed his tongue and his fingers, and replaced them with his dick, making you come.

"Oh my god, oh my.....Terry," You moaned, feeling yourself come hard on his dick as your body began shaking. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

Terry grabbed your wrist with his left hand and smacked your ass with his other before thrusted into you hard, causing you to gasp and moan.

"Terry, wait, please," You said, trying to move away, feeling sensitive; he didn't care and continued to grab your wrist and thrusted faster and harder.

“Mmm, fuck, baby, you're gushing, you hear that, baby?” Terry asked, pulling out slowly and thrusted his dick in and out of your pussy, causing wet sounds from your pussy.

"Yes, yes, ahh," You moaned, tilting your head slightly to look back at him with so much pleasure and want. "Fuck me, fuck your pussy, fuck all of me, giving all of that dick deeper."

"Mmm, baby girl. Keep talking nasty to me; you wanted it deeper?!" Terry moaned in pleasure and gave your ass a smack on the cheek and went slightly deeper.

"Shit, yes just like that." You moaned; he always knew how just you wanted and made you feel so good. Terry was looking down at the crack between his dick moving in and out of you.

The sensation of just thrusting in and out, feeling your walls, was everything. He smacked your ass, then grabbed a hand full of your ass cheek to spread them wide.

Halfway through, he takes the handcuffs off of you and pulls out of you. "Ride me, baby. I want to see that pretty face," Terry said, going to lay on his back, and you crawled on top of him.

You positioned his dick to slide into your pussy, causing both of you to moan. You placed your hands on his chest and began to bounce up and down his dick.

He smacks your ass with a growl, and you bit your lip, rolling your hips and grinding against him. You look down at him, meeting his eyes and feeling yourself clenching around him.

Terry opens his mouth in an O shape, watching every expression on your face, being in awe of you fixed on your breasts and loving how you moan his name and your eyes flutter at him.

His hands leaving your ass to caress up along your back softly. "Fuck, girl, keep looking at me like that, fuck with those pretty eyes. Might come and put fucking baby in."

His words made your body flutter slightly. You grinned at him and asked, "Mmm, do you want me to have your baby, big daddy?"

"Shit, yeah, I bet you'll look so damn sexy pregnant with our kid." He said, reaching up to squeeze your breasts. "Especially seeing these beauties all big and vein-filled with milk."

You knew he was just talking, but how he looked at you told you something else. The thought of having a baby with Terry in the future was ideal.

“Ahh...yes, yes, yes I wanna have your baby, Terry, one day,” You chanted out between moans, feeling your orgasm start to get close as you clenched around his throbbing, full of cum dick.

His hips slammed into your ass, feeling his balls hit at a different angle. "I'll give it ya one day if you wanted it, filled you up," he grunted, wrapping his hand around your neck.

"Fuck, yes fuck I'm gonna cum! fuck me” You screamed as he continued thrusted into you. “Me too, baby, together.” Terry let out a choked out of moan, his face scrunching in pleasure as both of you came together.

You blinked, seeing stars as you felt him release his seed deep inside of you, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head before letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

You dropped on Terry's chest, burying your face in his neck. He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back.

Terry lies on your back and cleans you with the same washcloth he used earlier. He then takes a breath, lays beside you, and pulls you into his arms.

He looks at your face to find you knocked out, causing him to grow a chuckle. "I will try to make you a mother one day." His hand slowly reaches your belly, caressing it in circles with a hopeful smile.

[the-ancient-dragons]

Ice, Rain, Night, and Sea Dragons!

(wow!)

From the How to Spot a Dragon Before it Spots You guide.

Details and explanation below, otherwise next week are the Overcomplicated SilkWings! See you then! :)

Ice Dragon: - very sparkly - hard to see in snow or fog - sharp whistle sound when flapping

Keeping with the spiky design the wings are also very sharp looking. They would have a very distinct sound, I imagine, both because of the shape of their wings and because of the tail/neck spikes (think pigeon or mourning dove, their feathers make a very iconic sound when cutting through the air). Speaking of the tail, I just love how it turned out!

Rainforest Dragon: - shortest wings for forest flight - change colours -> can camouflage - bouncy flight

What does 'bouncy flight' mean? Well, if you've ever seen any small songbird fly, some have a very iconic way of flying where they flap really quickly and then pause, wings tight to their sides and shoot forward like a missile. I think this would translate to a forest very well, where they could flap their wings for short bursts and slip through branches or vines on the upbeat. Their short wings are also inspired by harpy eagles. I thought it fit perfectly!

Night Dragon: - impossible to see in the dark - underside of wings look like stars - quiet - very rare

The NightWing wing shape and flying style is completely inspired by Levithan Creations. It just works so perfectly that I can't think of anything else for them. How would they do it? Perhaps a very light hyperspecialized scale similar to the scales on moth wings that would help dampen flight sounds. Or, since that seems a little far-fetched, maybe a special peach fuzz like that on owl's wings. I'll need to dig deeper into it, but I like the direction it's going!

Sea Dragon: - shortest dragon (height) - weakest flier -> more commonly skim - triangular wings - heavy tail drags so they often skim like flying fish

Wow I really had to mention the skimming twice. I mean wow that scavenger that wrote this is really lame, huh?

But in all seriousness, I was almost going to go with a more penguin-flipper like shape that would really not be suited to flying until I realised "holy crap we already have a really cool example of flying aquatic 'creature'". Flying fish are so cool. And really, if a SeaWing really chose to fly between islands, why go that far out of the water? Why fly as high as other dragons in the first place? Skimming on the water seems like a perfect use for their strong tails, which could propel them quite fast.

And that's all for the How to Spot a Dragon series. I had lots of fun making this. These designs aren't final but the general adaptations are going to be the starting point. I can't wait to do proper anatomy and action sketches!!!

But first, I want to finish the Overcomplicated series. Next up: SilkWings! See you then!

[tekumaniac311]

My Space Rider team

Credit of the artwork goes to the mastermind of this au herself, @onyxonline!

This is one of the various Space Rider groups out there in the galaxy right now, doing the duty of battling the Cult, and combating the Red Mist itself, all that shtick. However, what stands this particular group out from the others is their eagerness, well their leaders eagerness, to best Dogday and his group in the battle against the Prototype!

Introducing from left to right:

Captain Dogbite Solaris: Sounds familiar right? Well he is Dogday's BROTHER, younger than him by 3 years, he's one of the youngest to ever achieve the rank of captain at the academy. His leadership skills and sun abilities are almost identical to that of his brother. But what he has that Dogday does not is an extreme arrogance, recklessness in combat and leading. Fueled by his jealousy towards Dogday, he aims to best him and his squad any way he can.

Drago Kitano: Second in command of Dogbite's crew, Drago Kitano posses a calm, level-headed manner in combat or off duty, he attains an inner peace and care toward his fellow members. It often takes him to stop his captain, Dogbite from going overboard in challenging Dogday. Possessing the power of pyrokinesis.

Leopardaisy: A quirky, fun loving and very sneaky snow leopard, Leopardaisy is always one to joke and kick butt at the same time, a born optimist and acrobatic expert, she's there to lend a hand to folks and cheer up. She possesses power of limited invisibility and phasing through solid objects.

Lean Lemur: As a communications helper and mechanic assistant, Lean Lemur despite his size and age is a valuable member regardless, although he tends to be the most antisocial and secluded of the group, shy of meeting others and not used to being in parties at all, poor guy.

Prettybird: Pretty is the best to describe Prettybird, she is the top medical expert of the squad and fashion expert to. Born from a doctor and a fashion expert, she went instead to the academy to see the galaxy and help others with her medical knowledge...and look pretty while doing it.

Mama Mammoth: Working hard, large and full of heart is what to describe Mama Mammoth, an expert chef who's cooking skills can bring any diner/fast food joint to shame. With a huge gentle giant personality, she often leads the group who stay behind while the other four fight. She always shows a motherly nature towards her fellow teammates and always makes sure not one of them are without what they need.

FixFox: Not afraid to get her fur all greasy and having a big love for engines and vehicles, FixFox fits right at home tuning the vehicles and designing the gadgets for her Rider team, her upbeat, quirky personality always shines through when working on a vehicle or just chilling out with her buds.

Berserkerine: The muscle of the squad, Berserkerine grew up beating up bullies or punks before joining the riders, quickly growing a friendship with Dogbite he joined the team after graduating. Now he rides with the team, looking for more cultists to bash and skulls to crack. He possesses powers of pain resistance and enhanced strength.

[icallhimjoey]

Hey bestie just wondering if u could do a little comfort one shot of our joey, context:

Starting our period in the middle of work(specifically retail but like a 6hr shift) and coming home grumpy and wanting comfort from Joe?

Pls and thank you🤍

fuck off i can TASTE this request in my bones, what the FUCK - thanks for sending it in babes, love you, mwah 🤍 Wordcount: 1.8K

---

What Else?

"Babe!" Joe called when he heard the front door go, and he sounded all chipper.

All happy that you were home. Upbeat, and in a good mood. Dripping with joy. Excited to see you, and enthusiastic, and all eager and... no. That was wrong. That was all wrong.

You were none of those things and didn't have any patience for any of those things.

You silently debated ignoring him and slipping into the shower to melt yourself down the drain. Joe hadn't done anything wrong, but it just so happened that the universe had. It wasn't Joe's fault that he was part of that, but he was, and so, one plus one equalled no patience for Joe.

"Babe?" Joe sounded a bit more unsure when you didn't answer him.

"No." you just replied, your voice as flat as you could manage it still.

Joe was going to have to leave you alone for a bit. Not get too close or look you in the eye. You know, for his own safety.

But then you heard rushed footsteps.

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Joe stepped into the hallway and the boy looked like he'd just had the most leisurely day ever, which was wrong.

Wrong thing to look like.

You very much hadn't had a leisurely day, so no one else was allowed to have had one, either.

You were tired, and in a mood, and all your face wanted to do was frown, and if Joe knew what was good for him he'd wipe that stupid smile right off of his face as he closed in on you and curled his arms around your head to hug your face.

He pressed his cheek to yours, and you allowed it.

Just for a second, though.

The kiss he then pressed to your cheek was too much.

Wrong.

"I've got balled up toilet paper in my underwear." you made it sound like a warning. Like Joe was on thin ice, somehow.

"Oh..." Joe said in casual surprise before trying to get another wet kiss in that you leant away from as you frowned deeper and pushed him back.

He hadn't picked up on the cautionary advice you actually never shared.

Wrong.

"Don't touch me."

"Okay, sorry!" Joe comically stepped back and held both his hands up. "Can I touch you when your underwear no longer contains balled up toilet paper?"

You pushed him aside as you made your way to the bathroom.

"No."

Yes, he could. He better. If Joe wasn't going to be nice to you, you'd be even less fun to be around.

"No?" Joe double-checked.

Yes.

"No." You double-downed.

You disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, and you heard Joe chuckle.

Chuckle.

"Fuck you."

Joe was a bad boyfriend and you could fucking cry.

"Okay." Joe lightly scolded, having obviously heard the soft swearing from inside the bathroom, humour still evident in his voice from behind the door. "Take a second and come find me after."

You had to take a moment to breathe, eyes closed, nostrils flared. If you didn't, you'd lash out and say something you didn't mean. You meant the fuck you. Joe was an adult and could read the room and be gentle instead of laugh at you.

You heard him leave the hallway before you sighed deeply, turned on the shower, and let your brain go silent to the white noise of the water stream.

You washed your hair in the first minute, then sat down and decided you could just stay there for the evening. With your back against the tiles, you hugged your knees tightly, chin atop. Blanketed by the warm water and hidden away from everything else.

Perfect.

After about twenty minutes of sitting in the shower, you heard the door unlock and open.

Joe placed the butterknife he used to break in next to the sink and reached into the shower to turn it off.

"Come on, baby,"

Joe had to squat to help you up.

"Time to dry off."

You wordlessly let yourself be helped onto your feet, and then groaned slightly when Joe held up a big fluffy towel that you stepped into. He hugged you over it as you let yourself sink into him. Joe made sure to hug and squeeze you all over, shifting his arms up and down your body, and it was arguably the best way to get dry after a shower.

"My feet are sore," you complained, eyes wet. "I never want to work again."

"My poor baby," Joe cooed sincerely. "What else?"

"I've got a headache."

"You do?" Joe moved the towel to softly dab your face, careful gentle touches near your eyes, dabbing away shower water as well as the beginnnigs of tears.

"And I want to pull my uterus out of my stomach."

"That sounds messy." Joe kneeled as he dried your legs.

It was so devastating to be upset over a discomfort that you just had to accept, because you were born like this. It was unfair.

"I think I might've bruised my vagina with the toilet paper."

"Hmm," Joe looked, and it seemed fine, but what did he know? He had never had to fold up single ply toiletpaper enough times for it to resemble a pad.

"What else?" Joe's voice was smooth like velvet, no making fun. Just comfort.

"I want to commit a murder."

Joe dried the tops of your feet as you wiped at your face, hot tears of frustration now passing your lashline.

"People are the w-worst and they all need to die."

Joe leant back on his heels and looked up at you, brow creased in what appeared to be genuine sympathy. You thought he may say something reasonable, like, not all people, or whatever. But he didn't. Instead he just cocked his head to the side a little and asked,

"What else?"

That made you sob.

"I want..." you started, breath stuttering. "I want– I'm leaking." You felt the trickle of period blood and Joe was quick to swoop in, getting it before you could even look down to see the damage.

"What else, baby? What do you want?" he distracted.

"I want... chocolate. Sugar."

Joe dried you off completely, cleaned and wiped what needed cleaning and wiping and then found a tampon where you kept them.

"I want it to rain, and I want it to be autumn."

You were crying and being unreasonable and it felt great whilst simultaneously feeling the worst.

"Who designed the female bod-dy? Who th-thought of the concept of it? They got it wrong. It's all wrong."

Joe moved like he was going to help insert the tampon, a move that would've made you laugh had you been in a better mood. Now, it just made you take the cotton from his hands as you listed off more things that were wrong with the world.

"My stomach hurts, a-and I'm mad at the government."

Joe just listened. Helped you dress into soft comfortable clothes. Encouraged you to get all of your complaints out. It'd leave the world feeling lighter, he knew. He'd dealt with you on days like these before.

Was nothing new.

He couldn't right any of the wrongs, but he could be sweet and love you with a bit more care than usual.

When you eventually ended up on the sofa together, you were ready to lay down right on top, but Joe stopped you just before you did.

"Can't rub your feet like that. You said you had sore feet, right?"

The way that made your lip wobble made Joe easily accept you in his arms, the way you wanted to lay with him in the first place. He'd get your feet later.

Joe made space between his legs to accommodate you.

With his back comfortably pushed into the sofa cushions and you rubbing your face into the fabric of his T-shirt that covered his chest, Joe decided to ask just one more time.

"Hey," he whispered, wrapping a leg around one of yours. "What else?"

You took a moment to think, but came up blank.

There was nothing else left. You were still annoyed, and tired, and dealing with a dull pain in your lower stomach, but you'd mentioned all of those things already.

There was something you hadn't yet said though.

"M'sorry," you murmured, meaning it with your full chest, but voice only coming out small.

Joe smiled, and he could've made a small joke. Poked fun, just a little.

He didn't.

"I'm sorry I was mean."

Joe just kissed the top of your head

"Can you..." you began, moving a hand up to swipe your wet hair aside.

"Yea of course," Joe's hand found the hem of your T-shirt to pull up, revealing your bare back. You didn't need to finish the question for Joe to know what you were asking for as his finger tips started slowly trailing up and down your back.

Joe felt how you sunk into him more. Felt how your breath was just a strange inhale away from letting emotions seep through the cracks once more. How you burrowed into him even more than he thought was really even possible.

This was all you'd really needed since the moment you'd walked in.

And he'd tried.

He'd called for you.

Knew you'd had a long shift that day.

But you hadn't been ready then.

You'd needed to get a bunch of things out of your system first.

Joe knew.

Knew you.

Joe's tickling fingers felt like heaven, tracing up and down your back inside of your shirt. It was strange how you felt both heavy and light, limbs like lead, but your mind sort of floaty.

You sighed into him as you felt Joe's other leg close in on you, caging you in.

"I really am sorry. When I said no, before, when you asked if you could touch me, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean no."

"Hmm," Joe hummed, and swallowed everything he could say about how he knew you hadn't meant no. How he knew you. There was a reason why he knew how to easily break into the bathroom.

"That's okay. I get to touch you now, don't I?"

You smiled, embarrassed because of your own earlier childish lies.

Joe was a good boyfriend.

"I get to touch you, and hug you, and feel you, and," Joe strained his neck to press a kiss against your hairline. "And kiss you..."

You melted under his affection, and decided you had an important question to ask him as well.

"Yea?" you planted you chin on his chest and looked at your boyfriend, double chins and all, as he looked down at you, gaze warm and dripping with sweet honeyed love for you.

You tried returning it as best you could.

"What else?"

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories

@phyllosilicate-s, @readergf, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @solzi1420

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Ok, here comes one word promt for bucktommy

Fake-dating

This was a cute one to write. Thank you 🩶

***

Hen and Chim and recently gotten back in contact with an old member of the 118, Tommy, and wanted to get everyone together for night at the bar.

It was a fun night. Maddie and Chim had left earlier to pick up Jee, but Hen and Karen were still showing up everyone on the dance floor, leaving Eddie and Buck at the table with Tommy.

Buck couldn’t get over just how fucking cool this guy was. He flew helicopters in the army, now helicopters and planes for the LAFD. He did Muay Thai, apparently had a car lift and mechanics pit in his garage.. He was a man.

He had tonnes in common with Eddie, too and Buck couldn’t help feel a ping of jealousy. Tommy had far more in common with Eddie than he ever did.

Tommy had been at the bar getting them drinks and talking to someone but pointing to their table. Buck instinctively waved back and immediately felt like an idiot. Tommy walked back to the table a little quickly and placed the drinks down.

“Okay this is going to sound weird I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“What do I get out of it?” Eddie asked.

“Uh, nothing because I was talking to Evan.” Buck felt an odd sensation in his stomach.

“Uh, me?” He said, eyebrows up.

“Him”? Eddie question.

“Yeah, he’s more my type.” He said and Buck didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Well I feel deeply rejected.” Eddie joked. Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I’ll explain everything later, but that guy at the bar is my ex, and he won’t leave me alone. So I said I was with someone and he asked who, and I panicked and I said you, thinking he’d leave me alone. But I was wrong and he wants to meet you and I’m sorry and I’ll pay for all your drinks the rest of the night if you pretend for the next few minutes.” He looked at Buck with pleading eyes. Somehow Buck couldn’t say no to them.

“Uh, sure.” He said. Tommys face morphed into a smile, with deep lines framing his eyes and Buck couldn’t help smiling back as they held eye contact.

“That guy is coming over.” Eddie informed them. Tommy took a seat next to Buck only a bit closer than before. He slid an arm behind him resting it against the top of the booth seat.

He was a few inches shorter than Tommy, with hair similar colour to Bucks but much shorter. He was built similarly to Buck too.

The man took a seat from a nearby table and placed at the end of theirs sitting down.

“Are you going to introduce us, T?’

“Shane, this is Evan.”

“Buck, everyone calls me Buck.” He said reaching forward and o shake Shane’s hand. When he sat back he could feel the warmth of Tommys arm on the back of his neck. A strange flush came through him.

“Oh and this is Eddie.”

“Hey, man.” Eddie shook his hand also.

Shane looked between Buck and Tommy. “So, how long have you been together?”

“6 months.” Tommy replied effortlessly.

“So not very long then.” Shane said in a hopeful tone.

“True, but when you know you know. Right babe?” He looked at Buck.

“Uh, yeah.” Buck agreed looking at Tommy. Tommy smiled at him and again Buck couldn’t help but smile back. There was something in the way that Tommy smiled that he couldn’t put his finger on .

“They’re honestly adorable.” Eddie chimed in “Can’t get enough of each other.” Buck saw the grin and amused look on Eddie’s face. He was clearly enjoying this.

The music changed from upbeat to slow and couples began moving closer to one another on the dance floor.

“Hey don’t you guys love this song?” Eddie said. “You should totally dance to it.” Buck threw Eddie a look but he just grinned in response.

“We’re enjoying our drinks for now.” Tommy replied.

“Oh I can keep an eye on those. Don’t worry.” Eddie said back.

“What’s the matter?” Shane asked. “You love to dance. I remember you-“

“Absolutely.” Tommy interrupted. “We’d love to dance. Wouldn’t we Evan?” He looked at him and tapped his foot against his under the table hoping that he would agree.

“Uh, sure. Yeah.” Tommy left the booth, followed by Buck and walked over to where other couples were dancing. Buck looked back at Eddie who was still grinning widely. Son of bitch was loving every moment of it.

Buck stood in front of Tommy awkwardly. All the other people dancing had their arms around each other and he had no clue what to do.

“You’ve never danced with a man before have you?” Tommy asked sensing his awkwardness

“Is it that obvious?” He replied.

“Luckily for you I’m an aficionado. Here..” he took Bucks arms and put them around his shoulders then put his own around Bucks waist. “Is this okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Listen, Evan, I know I asked for your help but really if you’re uncomfortable we can stop.” Tommy told him. His expression was open and gentle and Buck knew that he meant what he said.

“It’s fine. Really.” He said and they began to sway slowly.

“Thank you, by the way. You’re really saving my ass.”

“What’s the deal with him? Was it a bad break up?” Buck asked.

“He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, just.. kind of obsessed with me.” He said.

“Isn’t it a good thing to be obsessed with your significant other?” Buck asked.

“There’s a limit. He wanted to be with me all the time. And I mean all the time. Got to the point I couldn’t use the bathroom without him knocking on the door to talk to me.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I love spending time with the person I’m with but I do like time to spend with my friends or just myself. In the end I had to break it off and as you can see he still hasn’t moved on. I’m hoping he’ll see us dancing and it’ll click for him they we’re over.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Asked Buck.

“I’ve always wanted a Vegas wedding. You in?.” Tommy joked and Buck laughed loudly.

“Well, I’m easy to live with and I’m a pretty good cook.” Buck said back.

“Good to know.” Tommy smiled. Buck felt that flush of heat again as Tommy looked at him. He broke eye contact and looked over at their table. Shane was staring intently at them, meanwhile Eddie was leaning over whispering to Hen and Karen, still grinning and pointing at them. Buck was never going to live this down.

“He’s still watching by the way.” Buck told him. Tommy sighed, annoyed. Buck took the initiative and moved closer, tightening his arms around Tommys neck. The move surprised Tommy and he waited a beat before wrapping his arms further around Bucks waist.

“So what about you. Any significant other?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, no. My last ex was also a little obsessive. Not about me, though. At least not directly. All she wanted to talk about the fact that I died.” Tommy looked at him confused.

“I have questions...”

Buck laughed. “Short version is I was struck by lightning a few months ago. My heart stopped for over 3 minutes. Which as you can imagine is a very satisfying subject to a Death Doula.”

“Shit. Are you okay? No long term effects?” Tommy asked with a genuine tone of concern.

“I did have some pretty awesome math skills for a while,” he laughed “but sadly they went away quite quickly. But otherwise I’m totally fine.”

“Good.” He smiled. His smile was absolutely gorgeous, Buck finally admitted to himself. “So, a death doula?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t date someone I meet on a call.”

“Saving someone’s life and then dating them never turns out the way you expect.” Tommy agreed.

“I learned that lesson third time around.”

“And yet they’re always so grateful!” He joked. “He still watching?” Buck looked over to see Shane still sat at the table watching them, but Eddie, Hen and Karen walking, coats and bags in hand, toward the exit. Eddie caught his eye and winked as they left the bar.

He didn’t tell Tommy they’d left. Something inside him didn’t want to. He was enjoying dancing with Tommy and telling him might end it.

“He’s still watching us intently.” Buck said.

“At this point he might have to catch us screwing in the bathroom.” Tommy said with a chuckle. Bucks face immediately flushed. He knew Tommy was joking but.. Something was twisting in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar and unexpected feeling but it was pleasant. More than pleasant.

“I don’t know about that, but what about this..”

It could have been a moment of madness, or weakness, or some deep rooted part of himself he wasn’t aware of, or hell, maybe the 2 beers he’d drank were laced with something that he wasn’t aware of.. but whatever the reason, without thinking about it, Buck leaned in and pressed his lips against Tommy’s.

Tommy’s breath hitched at the surprise. As Buck pulled his lips away and opened his eyes to Tommy’s looking intently at him, he felt a warm explosion in his chest—one he wasn’t expecting. Then the realisation kicked in at what he’d just done.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have..”

He felt embarrassed. Tommy probably didn’t like him that way, and he wasn’t sure of his own feelings either. Tommy did something to him, that he was sure of, now. Earlier he’d thought it was jealousy over Eddie but now he couldn’t deny the feeling in his chest at sharing a kiss with him. He liked it.

Tommy could see he was having some kind of internal debate and ended it as he placed fingers under Bucks jaw, pulling him in for another kiss. This one was firmer and longer.

Without second guessing it Buck opened his mouth against Tommy’s and deepened the kiss. Buck didn’t know why he was doing it or why he liked it—he would spend the next few days unpacking it and would come to a rather life changing revelation— but standing in the bar with his arms around Tommy, feeling his warm tongue against his, that tasted of the IPA’s he’d been drinking, all he knew was that he wanted it.

Tommy’s hands were travelling up and down his back leaving goosebumps in their wake. Buck was holding on to Tommy’s neck for dear life for fear that if he let go, the kiss would end and this feeling he had that was snaking its away in and around his organs would go away.

“I have to say that was unexpected.” Tommy said when the kiss did eventually end. Buck tilted his head and looked up at him bashfully.

“I think your ex is gone.” Buck said. They both looked around and couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Good.” Tommy said looking at Buck. “So, what are you doing Saturday?”

“Saturday?”

“You free?”

[novvabee]

The Boys in the Band

AN: I got carried away with this one, but here is the second part to the band au

word count: 2.8k

cw: language? there is nothing really bad about this one.

Since your first show, you had been quite busy. You had opened for a couple bands at The Common Room, you booked a few nights at the popular club, The Hog’s Head, and managed to snag a spot in another festival. You had become popular very quickly amongst the girls, gays, theys, and young people in the city. Each gig you noted more and more fans, crowds growing, singing so loud and dancing so hard. 

This is what you always dreamed of, performing and making people happy. You lived for the drama and theatrics of it all, dressing up on stage and singing your heart out. The girls felt the same electricity, the same passion as you. That made your bond as a group that much stronger.

Not to mention, you were all good friends. Lily had mentioned to you that she and Mary had been messing around and found out they actually sounded really good together. Then they asked Marlene if she would play drums, which she said yes to in a heartbeat. And then Lily realized they needed a front woman, someone who could sing and bring the most energy. She thought of you, your bold and fierce attitude, your flirty and fun personality. And that is how you started.

The four of you wrote all the music you performed; the fun and girly songs by Mary, the campy over-the-top songs about women by Marlene, the sad and slow ballads by yourself, and the thought provoking and experimental ones by Lily.

Mary had the upbeat, girly, pop songs down. Her personality just flowed with inspiration for them, so those were the types of songs that you mostly sang and performed. You weren’t complaining, her songs were half the fun.

Marlene was full of something you all liked to tease her about; lesbian angst. But all that angst made for great songs to perform and were usually the crowd favorites.

Lily was slightly different, she was full of thoughts and ideas about the world, and her medium to get them out of her brain and into the world, was through music and lyrics. She wrote a lot of songs for women, for rights for all and for political change. If you had to pick, you would say hers were by far your favorites. She didn’t write often, but when she did, she had a message, something to say. You loved that about her.

Your songs were all ballads and sad. The girls teased you about that too, saying you shouldn’t let a man make you cry. It wasn’t exactly your fault, you had just gotten out of a long term relationship, and were drawing inspiration from all the confusing, mixed feelings that came with that. 

You had been dating this boy, Matthew, for about a year and a half, but everything seemed to take a turn for the worse a couple months ago. Your once sweet and charming boyfriend had turned into this cold, vacant man right in front of you. You two argued all the time, about small things as well as very important, serious things. He started accusing you of sneaking around, hiding things from him, cheating on him. None of it was true, and you tried to tell him that, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.

So you had enough. You told him that if you two couldn’t work things out, you didn’t know if you could continue on. He said nothing, just agreed with you. He didn’t try to mend the broken relationship, didn't try to fight either for you or with you. You would’ve taken either, but he just walked away.

As much as you tell yourself you’re doing so much better, that you have moved on and don’t care about him anymore, that isn’t exactly true.

You leaned into the band to distract yourself, putting everything you had in it so that you wouldn’t be left with those feelings. You’re just glad you had your friends, your girls who not only could help you through it, but also help you see this band through. They ignited you.

You felt that way even just sitting on the floor of Mary’s apartment. The space was cute and cozy. You girls were sprawled out over fluffy rugs, a plush couch, and two oversized bean bags. 

Mary was nodding her head along to a beat that only she could hear, writing down what you could only guess were new lyrics. Lily was strumming a tune she had been working on for over a week. You and Marlene were talking about what to wear for your upcoming show. 

“I think you'd look good in that pink leotard with the matching cowgirl boots.” Marlene recommended.

“The pink tassels or the pink heart?” you asked.

She thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “The tassels, that way you can wear the boots and maybe a cowboy hat,” she paused looking at the other two, “maybe we can try out Pink Pony?”

Excited, you clapped your hands together. You had been dying to perform this new song in front of a crowd and this was the perfect opportunity. You were playing at The Common Room again, but this time it was only you. Unlike every other performance you had, this time there were no openers, and no one else after you. You got a whole set for yourselves and the whole night to perform and party with fans.

The night was going to be nothing short of magical.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James followed Remus and Sirius into the stage door of The Common Room.

All three boys wanted to come and see the performance that The Pixies were giving tonight. They had gained a lot of traction recently, seemingly overnight.

James didn’t feel at all jealous or threatened, they were doing just as well themselves, and they made entirely different music. He was more curious as to the fact that this band came out of nowhere.

The Marauders were used to competition revolving around the music world. They had been doing this for a while now, they understood the fight to fill spots and book sets. This band was just another contender now.

James was more frequently used to The Snakes stealing their gigs or spots in festivals, but now even they were pushed aside for this new band. The Snakes was led by Sirius’s little brother Regulus, another person on the list James hadn’t spoken to in a while. James knew that Regulus was a grudge holder, hell, he was related to Sirius, so he shouldn’t be surprised that Regulus cut all contact.

He fucked up, he knew he did. But he still wasn’t ready to think about it.

Slipping through the crowd and continuing to follow as best he could, all three boys ended up in the back of the already packed room. 

“Holy shit,” Sirius began, “there are so many people. How much were tickets?” He asked Remus.

Remus answered with a head shake. “Don’t know, Lily told me to come in through the back door so we wouldn’t have to pay.”

James’s stomach sunk, maybe he shouldn’t have come. Lily didn’t even invite him, he just tagged along with Remus. But, she had to have known that would happen, right? The boys didn’t do anything or go anywhere without each other.

“Oh my god! Hi,” came a voice from a girl to his right. “You’re The Marauders right? I love you guys. I’ve been to, like, a bunch of shows.” James recognized this girl. She was always front row or close enough, always giving Sirius a look that showed she wanted to fuck him, or at least become a groupie. “Could I get a pic?” she asked.

Sirius smirked. “Course you can sweetheart.” he said while she handed her phone to someone she was with. She stood between Remus and Sirius for the photo, then thanked the boys, obviously wanting the interaction to continue. 

James did not. He would look like such an asshole taking pictures with fans at Lily’s show.

The thought was cut short when the house lights dimmed and the stage turned a hazy pink color. James lost every thought in his head when you came out on stage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Walking out onto the stage, you were met by a wall of sound, cheers and screams. Your nerves and butterflies instantly fluttered away. This is where you were meant to be, up here on this stage, in front of a crowd, making music. You had dreamed of this since you were a little girl.

You pranced yourself out in a cowboy hat and high heel boots, a matching sparkly and intricately tasseled leotard to top it all off. Your ass may be out, but that was the fun of it, the aesthetic. Especially for the new song you had prepared for the night. 

“Hello my friends.” you said, the cheers and screams somehow getting even louder. “We are The Pixies,” you introduced, “and we are here to give you the night of your life.”

You looked around the crowd to see so many faces enhanced with intricate and beautiful makeup looks, so many fans copying looks from your previous performances, so many bodies in bright colors. So many people who felt confident in what they were wearing and how they looked. 

“We’re gonna start off with a new one if that’s ok with you.” You announced you got an astounding amount of cheers, noting many phones launch into the air to record this new one. “This song is a fun one but more importantly,” you paused, the whole crowd hanging on your breath, “it is about what my mother thinks I am doing with my life. Here is Pink Pony Club!”

The girls started playing the intro and you walked to the front of the stage, sitting down, legs dangling off.

I know you wanted me to stay

But I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA

And I heard that there's a special place

Where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

You stood, walking back to center stage.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee

Hear Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

You whipped around to the audience

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You started dancing and jumping around stage, Lily and Mary joining you, smiles plastered on their faces

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The audience had settled into the performance, had gotten into the groove of the song, and joined in the dancing and the fun.

I'm up and jaws are on the floor

Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door

Blacklights and a mirrored disco ball

Every night's another reason why I left it all

I thank my wicked dreams a year from Tennessee

Oh, Santa Monica, you've been too good to me

Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene

She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

The crowd was going crazy, right along with you, until you slowed down and the girls played quieter for the bridge.

Don't think I've left you all behind

Still love you and Tennessee

You're always on my mind

And mama, every Saturday

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying

God, what have you done?

You're a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It's where I belong down at the

You jumped up and danced like crazy, the crowd joining in, loving this new song. Some picked up on the lyrics and were singing them back to you, the feeling indescribable.

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in

West Hollywood

I'm gonna keep on dancing at the

Pink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club

I'm gonna keep on dancing

I'm gonna keep on dancing

You kept dancing as Lily and Mary played the outro, out of breath and so happy. Once the song was finished, the whole building was filled with cheering. You looked to Mary, then over to Lily, they looked just as ecstatic, you could imagine Marlene felt the same. 

“Thank you, thank you!” you said into the mic. “Well, if you like that Common Room, we’re just getting started.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

James had never seen a concert, a band like yours. There was no way to describe it, you were just, stars already. 

The rest of the concert was filled with just as much fun, joy as the first song. The dancing and singing and laughing was indescribable. 

The boys waited after the concert, waited until the last of the fans trickled out, then they made their way backstage. Walking down the halls and to the dressing room that had a piece of paper with the word “Pixies” in bold letters, Remus knocked on the door. 

The giggling and sounds of excitement were radiating from the room, loudly even with the door shut.

They waited for a moment before the door pulled open, revealing Mary. The smile dropped from her face for a moment before she put another one in its place, this one though, was more of an uncomfortable grimace more than anything. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here.” Mary said, opening the door to let the boys slide through. She hugged each of them on their way in.

James made eye contact with Lily who was on the couch with Marlene. She didn’t break away. He quickly looked over to Marlene and smiled. “We wanted to come and say great show!” he said, directed at them all, but not being able to look away from Marlene, who just smirked, knowing the situation and that James was incredibly uncomfortable right now.

“Thanks.” Marlene replied smoothly. 

Sirius noted the tension and decided to break it. “Where is she?” he asked.

All eyes went to him as Mary asked “Y/N?”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, “No, the queen.” he said sarcastically.

“Are you going to try to sleep with her?” Mary asked, not holding back.

“What, no!” Sirius denied as if it wasn’t exactly something Sirius would do. “I just want to meet her. ‘Know thy enemy’ and all that.”

Lily scoffed. “She’ll be out in a minute, I think she's taking off her makeup.”

And as if right on que, you waltzed right out of the connected bathroom and into the dressing room. Smiling, you looked at the boys standing across from the couch. 

“Here she is!” Mary ushered you over, chipper and still energized from the performance. “This is Y/N, Y/N these are the boys in The Marauders.”

Your smile grew. “The Marauders? You guys were amazing at the festival.”

Sirius smiled back at you, charming as ever. “‘I'm Sirius.” you looked to the next boy, who was glancing at a fuming Lily.

“Uh, I’m James.” He smiled, seeming to come back to reality and out of whatever thought he was lost in. 

You looked at the final boy, tall and leaning against the wall. “And you’re Remus, right?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yeah we met a while back, lovely to see you again.”

“Lovely to see you! And it is lovely to finally meet you two.” you said to the newly acquainted Sirius and James, they nodded and smiled politely. There was a noticeable tension between everyone in the room, was there really that much of a rivalry?

“I think the boys were just heading out,” Mary said to the three boys standing in front of her. “Isn't that right?”

Sirius huffed and led the other two out throwing a “See you all soon.” over his shoulder as Mary escorted and followed them out into the hallway, shutting the door beyond her.

“That was… strange.” you said to Lily and Marlene. They just looked at each other and laughed, rolling their eyes. You didn’t understand.

“They're idiots.” Marlene supplied.

“They're boys.” Lily corrected.

Taglist 💌:  @adharalikethestar @mayuwolfstar @ieatboysalive @maraudereestauderelb @bugg06 @slytherinambitious (yell at me if I forgot anyone)