#still one of my favorite things to imagine is the editors watching this in the editing room like 👁️👄👁️ and going CUT IT CUT IT CUT IT CUT IT

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Age gap!Bruce is so in love with his wife, I’m sure that he believes she can’t do nothing wrog. Like, he’s the type to brag about how amazing she’s to everybody.

I love your writing and this scenario in particular has me very interested bc I think is so original. Usually, I don’t like age gap bc writers tend to make reader a little childlike or with no personality, but age gap!reader is so unique that I love her so much.

I like to imagine one of Bruce’s exes, like Selina (I’m sorry, but I always remember how she left him at the altar. I love her but my heart breaks for Bruce) comes back to Gotham and everything is kinda awkward bc yes, they have this weird off and on relationship (they haven’t seen each other for more than a year), not string attached but serious at the same time. And suddenly, he’s married to a fucking pop-star and actress??

Even a one night stand seeing Bruce “the playboy” marrying reader.

I can see this with anyone who used to be in love or having feelings either for Bruce or reader. “That should be me” by Justin Bieber will be in their spotify wrapped

I think it was the hard launch of the YEAR. Everyone will be so shocked by it that it becomes an iconic and part of Gotham’s pop culture. They did an interview and suddenly, the next thing they knew?? They got married at a private ceremony where only close family and friends knew.

"This is a stunt even for you, Bruce," Lois scolded tapping her foot. "Honestly-"

Bruce held his hands up, "The only reason it's public now is because we got caught in public. She was perfectly happy to be a private thing."

"Bruce," she scoffed giving him a look, "I know she's an adult but still. You're old enough to be her dad-"

"Not unless I was 16 when she was born," Bruce snorted, "she's the same age Dick is. Damian is 9-"

Lois rolled her eyes and took a seat, "So what did your kids say?"

"Over all, they were fine with it. If not happy about it. But Jason had to make a scene about me dating his childhood crush and betraying him all over again for dramatic effect. And Damian had to lecture me about the security risk."

"Naturally," Lois said smiling. "Jon said Damian had a lot to say about it. That's how we heard about it."

This time it was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes. "Be nice to her-"

"Are you kidding?" Lois asked, slightly incredulous.

"No-"

"Why would I not be? She's Iconic, honestly."

"And better at managing her image than I am," Bruce chuckled.

"Sad, really," Lois observed dryly. "But also impressive."

"No one knows who she dates, where she donates, no one knows her net worth for sure... honestly if she didn't volunteer the information I'm not even sure I'd know her favorite color."

"I'm not surprised," Lois mused, "After watching her get ripped apart a few years ago."

"I don't-"

"You wouldn't," Loid allowed, "You didn't have editors that wanted you to write think pieces about it. And you didn't work in an office that had a betting pool to her inevitable suicide or addiction spiral."

Bruce winced. He didn't remember it. Not directly, but you'd talked about it. It was part of why he agreed to letting you keep things private. You liked keeping things quiet. A separation between your public face and your private one. It fucked you up. And no one protected you. You'd had to handle it alone- Sure, you had your team but that wasn't the same as having PEOPLE to fall back on.

"I'll be nice," Lois assured him, "Just don't be a creep or I'll sic Clark on you later."

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive Chapter 1

Roy Kent x F1 Driver! F! Reader

3.4k (!!!!!!!!!!!) words

Warnings: Language, smut smut smut, oral (F receiving), Roy Kent being very horny, also I know nothing about F1

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @agentstarkid. Part one of two (maybe three??? We'll see!). Still learning to write smut sooooooo not sure how good it is?? Honestly this was the horniest writing I have ever done in my life.

Series Masterlist

Roy knew who you were. He knew exactly who you were. Unbeknownst to everyone in his life, he often watched you race on television, he scrolled through tweets about you, he even pictured you sometimes when he was pleasuring himself in the shower.

He was pretty sure he had a racing suit fetish now, thanks to you.

But fuck, you were something to see in person. Especially in what was probably the shortest, tightest dress he’d ever seen. It was borderline indecent- well, the thoughts in his head sure were. Roy Kent felt like a fucking teenager, hoping he wouldn’t get a boner in front of his friends and the press at this stupid party Keeley’d promised would be fun.

Much to Roy’s embarrassment, Keeley tugged him along to say hello with her and Rebecca. The women gave you quick, warm hugs, but your eyes were on Roy, unabashedly running your gaze down his muscular figure with a coolly raised eyebrow.

“The woman of the hour,” Rebecca praised. “Win number six on Sunday, hmm?”

“We’ll see,” you murmured, smirk on your face, the same smirk Roy’d seen dozens of times on television. The same smirk he wanted to kiss right off your face. You tilted your head at him. “Roy Kent,” you greeted, shaking his strong hand. “Didn’t know you like racing.”

Roy gave a curt nod, squeezing your hand reluctantly before letting go, trying to forget the fantasies he’d had about your hands roaming his body. “A bit,” he admitted, much to Keeley and Rebecca’s surprise. “Been following you a lot this season, actually.”

The coy smile on your lips had his head reeling. “I’m honored.”

You’d caught Roy Kent staring at you several times throughout the evening, an intense, fiery gaze that had electricity coursing through your body. You were pretty sure he was imagining what you looked like out of this dress; you knew you were wondering what his fitted suit would look like on your hotel room floor.

You chatted a bit more with the Richmond group, feeling a surge of pride when Rebecca and Keeley mentioned their idea women’s team, teasing Rebecca about how she should invest in Formula 1 instead. Eventually, Keeley got distracted by a very needy Jamie Tartt, and Rebecca saw some old friend who was dying to talk about Ruper Mannion’s losing West Ham, which left you all alone with a broodingly gorgeous Roy Kent.

“I’m glad Keeley managed to get you all out here,” you hummed. “It’s a fun weekend.”

“How d’you know Keeley again?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Did a magazine shoot together. She was supposed to be hanging seductively off these different drivers, all hot in like a bikini thing while they were in their racing suits. But when it came to me, they weren’t going to include her. But Keels, cheeky thing, insisted on posing the exact same way she had with Daniel and Lando and the rest of them.” The wink you shot Roy was nothing short of erotic. “It was pretty hot. Fucking magazine editor didn’t have the guts to run it, though. Scared little twat.”

Roy wasn’t sure if it was your vulgar vocabulary or the image of you with Keeley in some sapphic pose giving him a hardon. Probably both. Or maybe it was the undeniable bedroom eyes you were shooting him as you sipped your drink through the little black cocktail straw, reminding him of the images he’d created in the shower last night.

“I love this hotel,” you mused, interrupting Roy’s filthy thoughts. “They’re quite lovely. Always make sure my favorite things are in my room when I arrive. Sweets, alcohol, that sort of thing.” You raised your glass. “Better than the stuff they’re serving here, actually.”

Doing his best to maintain the bored face he’d perfected long ago, Roy shrugged. “D’you mind sharing?”

He had to be imagining the way you licked your lipstick-stained lips. “I love sharing.” With a boldness that had Roy biting back a groan, you took his hand and guided him through the crowd until the two of you reached the lift; he was grateful for the other people that filled the small space, forcing you to stand close to him, letting him feel the heat radiating off your exposed skin.

You led him off the elevator and to your suite, no signs of awkwardness or bashfulness as you unlocked your door and gestured for him to enter. Roy had stayed at enough hotels to know that your suite was one of the nicer ones this place had to offer; unsurprising, especially with all the attention you were getting this weekend, what with your sixth win on the horizon.

“Scotch?” you offered, holding up the bottle that Roy knew cost almost as much as some people’s rent.

“Perfect.” Roy helped you find a couple of glasses and watched as you poured each drink generously. He wondered if the small brush of your fingers against his was on purpose as you handed him his glass.

You tapped your glass to his with a clink. “Cheers.”

Roy eyed you as he sipped, his mind racing like your car as it finally dawned on him that the two of you were alone in a hotel room with nothing but alcohol and his bad intentions. And you were peering at him like something to be devoured. Fuck.

“Have a seat,” you urged, plopping yourself down on the couch with ease, crossing your legs and causing your already short dress to ride up, displaying even more of your thigh- on purpose, Roy hoped.

He joined you, doing his best to ignore the slightly ajar door that he knew led to the bedroom.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, exposing the neck that Roy desperately wanted to mark up. “This is about the only time I’ll get to relax before Sunday,” you sighed.

“Is that your way of telling me to hurry the fuck up and finish my drink so you can be alone?” Roy joked, hoping he was wrong as he let his arm rest behind you on the couch.

“No.” You opened your bright eyes and tilted your head towards him, your lips curved upwards. “It’s my way of saying it’s nice to have some company.”

Before Roy could think of something clever to say, his mobile vibrated in his pocket. With a heaving sigh, he pulled it out and checked the incoming message: Did I see you get on the lift with one of the racers??? Fucking Jamie needed to mind his own damn business.

“That your girlfriend wondering where you’ve gone off to?” you teased.

Roy couldn’t help his eyeroll as he texted Jamie to Fuck off. “Just Jamie Tartt.”

“Boyfriend then?”

The snort that shot out of his mouth was pure reflex. “Watch it, or you’ll be finishing that bottle of scotch all on your own.”

You turned your body towards his, gazing up at him through thick lashes. “Oh no, we can’t have that.”

Roy felt less like Roy Kent, celebrity, professional footballer, dater of models and actresses, and more like a scared teenage boy hoping his first girlfriend would rub his prick through his jeans in a dark movie theatre. Unsure, embarrassed, hopeful, not a trace of confidence. He’d be annoyed at himself if he wasn’t so busy being turned on by you.

“Feel ready for Sunday?” He had to say something, literally anything, before he flat-out asked you for a shag.

A small huff passed your lips. “Mostly. Just trying to make myself relax.”

I could help with that, Roy thought devilishly, forcing himself to sip his drink so the words didn’t slip out. “How d’you usually relax before a race?”

Finally, you looked as tense as he felt. “You’ll need to get me a lot drunker before I tell you that, Roy Kent.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up, wondering if you were implying what he thought you were implying. “Oi, I’m getting you drunk? You’re the one who invited me up here, remember?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his razzing. “I know. So forward. My mother would be fucking horrified, me having a man in my hotel room.” Your eyes travelled down his body, not an ounce of shame on your face. “Especially one that looks like you.”

Well, any shred of doubt about your intentions was certainly beginning to disappear.

“I won’t fucking tell if you don’t,” Roy quipped, his own smirk finally forming.

You wrinkled your nose playfully. “Dunno if I can trust you. How do I know you’re not going to call my mum and tell her that you were in my room at this indecent hour?”

His confidence was finally beginning to show its face. “Because then you’d call my mum to tell her I’m in your room at this indecent hour.” His eyes were practically glued to your smirk.

 “Guess it’s our little secret then,” you purred.

“If I’m keeping this secret,” Roy began, eyebrows raised teasingly, “then maybe you can trust me with telling me how you relax before a race.”

You let out a scoffing laugh, one of the sexiest sounds Roy had ever heard. “Come on, Kent. You’re a big boy. I’m sure you can figure it out.” Your light shove to his shoulder had him growing harder. “You probably do the same thing before a big match.”

Yep. You were implying what he thought you were implying.

His silence worried you for a moment. “Not scandalizing you, am I?”

“No,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your bare thigh, watching your face carefully to make sure he was reading you correctly. “Just thinking.”

“About?” you hummed, leaning towards him.

He licked his lip and flattened his palm, covering your thigh with his rough hand. “All I can think about… is how good you’re going to taste.” His hand began traveling towards the high hem of your dress. “If you’d like help with relaxing, that is.”

You pretended that his words didn’t have your pussy pulsing. “What a gentleman,” you cooed, bringing one hand up to his bicep and giving a flirty squeeze. “I’d love some help.”

That touch and your words snapped something in Roy’s mind. He leaned forward and captured your mouth in a rough kiss, not bothering to play nice as his tongue pushed its way past your lips. His calloused fingertips dipped under your dress, squeezing the doughy flesh of your thigh, eliciting a soft groan from you.

“Don’t want to mess with your pre-race ritual,” he huffed as his lips travelled down your jaw.

You shook your head and gripped his curly hair. “That’s alright,” you muttered, craning your neck to grant him access to as much skin as possible. “Usually think about you anyways.”

He jerked his head back, eyes wide and full of wonder and lust. “Me?”

“You, Roy Kent,” you confirmed, amused by the sweet tone coming out of his already swollen lips. “What can I say? Football’s sexy.”

“Almost as sexy as racing.” With that, he gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap; you swallowed a moan when his already considerable bulge rubbed against your clothed core.

Despite your effort to play cool, Roy knew the contact affected you. He pushed his hips up into you, savoring the groan you were unable to hold back this time. So, he jerked upwards again. And again. And again. He bounced you on his lap, getting more pleasure out of the clothed humping than any other hookup he’d ever had. Your head thrown back, eyes shut, bottom lip between your teeth- even with clothes on, you were Roy’s every fantasy come true.

But Roy Kent didn’t come to your room for a clothed fantasy.

“That dress’s been driving me mad all night,” he admitted, giving a particularly rough buck upwards. “Kind of fucked up of you to still be wearing it.”

That cocky smirk returned. “Better do something about it,” you challenged.

He reached behind your back and tugged at the zipper, roughly pulling it down. Between the two of you, he was able to remove the dress without letting you off his lap.

His hands slid down your figure, roughly gripping every inch of skin he could; you were a fucking dream, even more perfect than he’d let himself imagine. It almost hurt to look at you. It actually did kind of hurt, since his pants were painfully tight.

“Let me spoil you,” he huffed, his already firm grip on you tightening. “Let me make you feel really fucking good.”

You nodded, clearly desperate for anything Roy Kent would give you. “Bedroom.”

His arousal stronger than his shitty knees, Roy stood, holding you against himself as you wrapped your legs around him, crossing your ankles behind his back and planting sloppy kisses to his neck. He shouldered the door open and gently laid you on the bed, biting his lip as he gazed down at you, eyes already glassy and face flushed. How could someone he had such dirty thoughts about look so angelic?

He hovered over you and let his hand trail down your body at a painfully slow pace, cherishing your involuntary shiver. He began to tug at your strapless bra, looking at you playfully.

“The fuck are you doing still wearing this?” he hummed.

You sat up on your elbows and let him unhook your bra. You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes and giggling as he tossed it casually over his shoulder.

“Much better.”

Roy’s eyes widened as he let himself marvel at your breasts, groaning when he saw your nipples already beginning to swell. He raised his eyebrows at you, even more turned on when he saw the eager expression on your face. He kept his eyes on yours as he lowered his face to your chest, giving a kitten lick to your nipple. The sigh you let out encouraged him to begin his rough assault on your breasts: biting, licking, sucking. As he swirled your nipple with his tongue, you began bucking up towards him, desperate to feel that friction again.

“Is someone needy?” he teased, winking at you.

“Thought you wanted to help me relax,” you huffed, tangling your hands in his hair.

He removed his face from your breast, resting his chin between them; his soft expression clashed with the hardness you felt below his waist. “This isn’t relaxing?” he crooned.

You stroked the soft hair between your fingers. “I just need some attention somewhere else.” You took one of his hands in yours and guided it down your body towards your panties, a little lacy pair that had Roy melting when his fingers grazed the already soaking material.

Fuck. Roy’d never been with a woman so fucking direct with what she wanted. It was so damn sexy; if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up falling in love with you by the end of the night.

“Silly thing’s in my way,” he mumbled, tugging down the material. He sat up so he could slide them down your legs, his mouth following his hands and pressing kisses to your skin. With your panties out of the way, he gazed up at your core. “Fuck,” he breathed, for once feeling like his favorite word wasn’t strong enough.

He brought his face between your legs, mesmerized by the sight before him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he cooed, his hot breath making you squirm. He tore his gaze from your pussy to look into your eyes. “Let me have a taste.”

His voice was wrecked, begging. His eyes were wild with desire and hunger. You’d never seen a man look so desperate before; the sight had you spreading your legs for him.

“Always wanted to know what that dirty mouth of yours could do.”

In an instant, his mouth was on your sex, a moan immediately escaping him and vibrating against you. You threw your head back, one hand tangling in his hair while the other came up to grab your breast. You groped yourself, feeling like you’d float away if you didn’t grab tight to something.

Roy was relentless. His tongue flicked your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body with each rough stroke. His stubble rubbed against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs; you knew the spot would be completely red in the morning, but right now the harsh scratching only added to your pleasure.

His hands gripped your thighs, forcing your legs further apart to give himself deeper access. When his tongue moved away from your clit, you gave a high-pitched whine, not caring if you sounded needy. If anything, it only turned Roy on even more. Your whine turned to a moan when his tongue began lapping at your wetness, devouring you like you were his last meal.

The sounds that filled your hotel room were lewd. His moaning against your core, you beginning to chant his name desperately, and the obscene wet sounds of his tongue exploring your cunt. When his tongue dipped inside your warmth, you saw stars. He swirled his tongue, trying to reach as deep as he could, unable to believe that any part of his body was inside you.

He felt so fucking dirty, eating you out while keeping his own clothes on. He’d never done that before; normally, his clothes would be long gone by now. But, maybe for the first time ever, he didn’t give a shit about his own pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to worship at the altar of your hips, giving you everything he could and lapping up everything you offered him. Right now, in this hotel room, on this bed, Roy Kent existed for the sole purpose of chasing your high.

He was needy, desperate, rutting his hips into the mattress as his tongue continued to explore you. He returned to your throbbing clit and began sucking on it, spurred on by the way you roughly pulled his hair. Your back arched off the bed, as if you were possessed by Roy’s devilish tongue. You sure as hell felt like you were.

“You taste beautiful,” he groaned against your heat. “Want to fucking taste you forever.”

“I’d let you,” you managed to gasp, feeling like something in you was about ready to snap.

Roy chuckled darkly against your sex. “If you’re still talking in complete sentences, I’m not doing my fucking job.”

With that, he dove back in, his mouth brutal and merciless, almost mean in its attack on your sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt a surge of pride as your moans became more ragged, your tugs at his hair became erratic, and your legs began to squeeze the sides of his head.

“Fuck, Roy,” you cried, your eyes suddenly as wet as your core. “Gonna- gonna-”

You didn’t need to say it. Roy felt the throbbing of your clit, his cue to return to your cunt to lap up your juices; some perverse part of him wanted to bottle the stuff and drink nothing else for the rest of his life. Instead, he ravished you, not caring that your body began to writhe from the overstimulation; he wasn’t going to waste a single exquisite drop. Your vision went white, and you swore you were going to pass out. Fuck, if you died right now- which felt like a very real possibility- you weren’t sure where you’d go, because heaven was Roy Kent’s tongue.

Satisfied that he’d gotten every last bit that you’d dripped out, Roy lifted his head to look at you, his ragged breathing filling the now quiet room. His beard was soaked, practically dripping with your wetness. His wild eyes bore into yours as he crawled up your body, hands gripping the sheets as he hovered above you. Without a word, he captured your lips in a deep, fervid kiss, sharing your delicious taste with you.

Finally coming back down to earth, you tugged at the collar of his shirt, a teasing smile forming on your glistening lips. “How the fuck do you still have clothes on?” Roy had thought you moaning his name was his new favorite sound; instead, he now knew that it was your breathless, post-orgasm voice.

“Wanted to focus on you,” he answered, giving your nose a tender kiss.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Roy Kent. Absolute gentleman in bed. I’ll make sure to write that on the stall in the ladies’ room.” You ground your hips into his, relishing the knowledge that you were leaving a wet stain on his trousers. “Should we fix your clothing situation then?”

To your absolute shock, Roy shook his head. “This was for you to relax before the race, remember?” His tender expression gave way to a look you could only describe as sinful. “You can take my pants off after you win on Sunday.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Modern Day Hero

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count-4.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), oral (f receiving), praise, riding, pre or no outbreak (can be read either way), single dad Joel with Sarah (no Ellie), neighbor!Joel, fluff, mutual pining, flirting, romance, only one bed, reader is a YA novelist, protective!Joel, reader is hinted to be more curvy but can be interpreted any way, happy ending, no use of y/n

Notes- Hi @miraclesabound it's your @pedrostories secret santa!!! I took a slightly different direction instead of full on fantasy au but I still incorporated some fantasy in here! I hope you like it cause this was very fun to write!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. The screen looked like a bright blur in front of your eyes as you adjusted them to the world around you. You didn’t even realize it, but hours had gone by since you looked away from your screen, too engrossed with the story you were working on to notice the passage of time. Another knock called your attention and you stretched your neck and arms as you stood up from your desk.

“Coming,” you called out to the front door.

You groaned as you moved your legs for the first time in hours and you made a mental note to take a break for a bit once you finished with whoever was at your door. As you swung it open, your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with your neighbor.

“Joel,” you breathed… Your handsome neighbor who you secretly had feelings for.

Joel gave you an apologetic smile, “Hey,” his exhaustion was apparent in his voice, “Sorry to ask ya so last minute,” he gestured to Sarah, who stood next to him, “Would you mind watching her for the afternoon?”

“Hey!” Sarah greeted you excitedly.

“Hey Sarah,” you replied back with a sincere smile, “Come on in! My favorite houseguest is always welcome here,” you winked at her, “I’ve got some snacks in the kitchen, go help yourself.”

Sarah’s face lit up as she hugged her dad goodbye and skipped inside. Joel mumbled a soft, “Be good,” to her before he turned to you and let out a heavy breath, “I owe you one,” he sighed, “I hate to put ya out like this but this job came up and I need the money and…”

“It’s no problem, Joel. Really,” you cut him off, “Trust me, I understand,” you nudged his shoulder playfully, “Go make that money, big guy.”

That made him laugh and Joel’s eyes darted down to the ground for a moment, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he met your gaze again, “I mean it, though. I owe ya, sweetheart.” With that he hurried over to his truck and drove off.

The nickname took your breath away and your mouth hung open as your brain short circuited for a moment. You stood in the doorway and waved him goodbye as you watched him drive off. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you imagined that you were more than just neighbors… friends. You imagined that he kissed you goodbye and promised he wouldn’t be home too late. You imagined that you would make him dinner and you and Sarah would wait until he came back home.

But he wasn’t yours to have. You and Joel had lived next to each other for a couple years now. Over time, you became friends and you were more than happy to watch Sarah any time. Some nights, you all would hang out together and watch movies, and you always stuck together at neighborhood block parties. But it was never more than that.

You let out a heavy sigh as you closed the door and went inside where you found Sarah on your couch with a manuscript in her hands.

“Is this the new one you’ve been working on?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you sat down next to her, “It's the rough draft. I haven’t gotten a chance to look at my editor’s notes yet.”

“Can I read it?” Sarah asked, batting her eyes like the way her dad sometimes did.

Grinning, you nodded, “How can I say no to that face?” you laughed softly, “Let me know what you think.”

Sarah’s face lit up as she buried herself in the book. Ever since she found out you were a young adult novelist, she always eagerly awaited the next book you had for her to read. Joel definitely appreciated that you made her so interested in books and reading too. Plus, it helped that Sarah seemed to enjoy the same fantasy stories you liked to write, so having a young perspective helped you. You were sure that your writing improved when she started reading your novels and giving you input on them too.

Yet another reason to be grateful for your neighbors.

“I’m gonna go fix us something to eat while you read. Make yourself at home, Sarah.”

She always did, kicking off her shoes at the door and settling onto your couch, “Thanks!” she replied from behind the book, which she was already clearly engrossed in.

“I’ll start with some hot chocolates I think,” you said, more to yourself than to her, as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

Hours passed and the sun set long ago, yet Joel still wasn’t back. You had made you and Sarah dinner and sat with her for a bit before you went back to working on your next novel, the sequel to the draft she was reading, in fact. It was well after midnight when a knock at the door startled you and made Sarah bolt awake from where she fell asleep on your couch.

“Must be your dad,” you told Sarah as you went to answer the door.

“Hey,” Joel sounded tired, “Sorry I’m so late.”

“I was starting to think you forgot about me,” Sarah teased as she gathered her things.

“Now that hurts,” Joel feigned heartbreak, “Let’s go, baby girl.”

You snorted softly as you bid Sarah goodnight.

“Can I finish your book tomorrow?” she asked before she left, “I think this is my favorite one you’ve ever written!”

The compliment genuinely warmed you, “Of course,” you told her, “And then you can read the second one when it’s done,” you winked at her.

Sarah’s face lit up as she hugged you and bounced over to her house.

“She really liked them books of yours,” Joel commented with a grin, “I’m glad she’s been reading so much, though.”

“She’s a good kid,” you said, “How was the job?” you asked.

“It’s money,” he replied.

“That good, huh?”

Joel scoffed. His frown furrowed his brows for a moment before he looked you in the eyes and his face softened, “Thanks again for watchin’ her so late.”

You smiled back at him, “It’s no problem,” you replied in a hushed tone.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Joel reached for you, as if he wanted to hug… or maybe even kiss you, but he stopped himself. Instead, he just nodded and patted your shoulder before he went home to his daughter, leaving you in your doorway dumbfounded.

*

It was the middle of the night a few days later. Feeling accomplished at finishing your edits for the novel you let Sarah read, you crashed fairly early. You had been working hard on this novel, and it was quickly becoming your pride and joy. So you let yourself rest for the first time in weeks. But, as fate would have it, you wouldn’t rest for long.

A loud crash jolted you awake with a gasp. You sat up in bed, listening if you could figure out what the sound was, when another hiss and pop startled you. Quickly, you got out of bed and ran towards the direction of the sound, which sounded like it came from your basement.

To your dismay, when you turned on the basement light, you saw what the commotion was. A pipe burst in your basement, and everything was flooding. Panic coursed through your veins as your hands shook. Nothing like this ever happened to you before, and between your overwhelming emotions and your panic, you had no idea what to do. And it was the middle of the night, who would you even call?

You grabbed your phone and dialed the only number you could think of.

Joel’s phone rang on his bedside table, causing him to wake with a start. He groaned for a moment before he realized it was a call, and he reached for it with dread as his first thought was of his daughter, “Hello?” he answered with a low gravelly voice.

“Joel?” your voice was on the other end, sounding meek and scared.

He breathed your name as he sat up, “Everything alright?”

“I’m sorry to call in the middle of the night,” you stumbled over your words, “My basement is flooding and I don’t know what to do…”

“Hang on, I’ll be right over,” Joel replied with no hesitation. 

He rushed over as fast as he could, and Joel was thankful you were right next door. He burst in your front door and immediately gathered you in his arms, “It’s alright,” he cooed, “I’ve got this.”

You stood in a daze, unsure what to do as Joel got to work. The first thing he did was turn off your water, stopping the rushing water. Then he called the emergency line and let them know what happened and got to work draining the standing water. When backup arrived, he helped them, taking the lead for you.

“Hey,” Joel was suddenly in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, “That’s all we can do for now,” he said, “The water’s all gone but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here until it gets cleaned out,” he paused, “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight and I’ll help you finish this tomorrow.”

Your eyes went wide as your mind raced, but you also couldn’t turn him down, “Ok,” you whispered.

Joel kept you at his side as he led you back to his house. You were sure he was telling you more details about what happened and what he did to fix it, but you didn’t absorb any of what he said. All you could think about was his large, strong hands on you and how he jumped in to help with no hesitation. It made your heart pound in your chest that it took you a moment to realize you were standing in his bedroom.

“What?” you asked, realizing that he said something important to you.

Joel just smiled softly, “I said Sarah’s out at a sleepover tonight so it’s just us. But I don’t have a spare room, so you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No,” you replied quickly. When he looked at you confused, you clarified, “I mean… I don’t mind…” you felt your skin heat up and your head spun. 

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. You paused for a moment, “Sorry to put you out like this…”

“Now don’t you start that on me, sweetheart,” Joel interrupted you, “You ain’t putin me out at all.”

The care in his voice made your heart melt. You swallowed hard and nodded before you looked at his bed, “What side can I take?” you joked to cover your nerves.

Joel grinned.

You settled in easier than you thought you would. You felt safe with Joel, there was no question there. But, after imagining what it would be like to be in his bed for so long, it made your heart pound to actually be here. Letting out a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing mind. The bed dipped as Joel got in on the other side, and you each laid with your back to the other.

The two of you laid together in silence before Joel broke it, “So,” he sighed, “Sarah told me about that new book you wrote…”

You pressed your lips together as your heart pounded in your chest, “Did she like it?” you asked in a hushed tone, suddenly nervous.

“She loved it,” Joel let out a soft laugh, “Where’d you get the idea for it?”

“Oh,” you breathed, “It just comes to me I guess.”

An unspoken question lingered in the air: “Who did you base the hero off of?” You were sure Sarah told Joel about each character, and you were sure that the hero would feel familiar to him…

Instead, Joel decided not to ask, as much as the question nagged at his mind. He let out a deep breath before he murmured, “Night, sweetheart.”

You felt a flutter in your chest before sleep took you. As you slept, you dreamt of the plot of your novel, only you were the main character. In your dream, you were a princess, the daughter of the king. You and your family were well respected and beloved by your people. You dreamt of the balcony in the castle that you described so vividly and you looked out over your kingdom on a beautiful, sunny day.

Then, you were out in the streets of your kingdom. In disguise, you loved to secretly mingle with the people as equals. Their craftsmanship always fascinated and inspired you, and you loved to wander the markets. That was where you met him: the blacksmith. Joel Miller. He worked diligently on the sword in his hands, and you watched him as he formed the most exquisite sword you had ever laid your eyes on. Even the knights in your royal guard didn’t have weapons this grand. 

Following the plot of your novel, you and the blacksmith with Joel’s face met and quickly fell in love. He soon discovered that you were the princess, but it didn’t change his feelings for you. Nor did his status mean anything when it came to your heart. As the two of you fell deeper in love, the novel’s villain, the evil wizard that worked for your father and secretly tried to steal his throne, tried to steal you away. The blacksmith Joel- your hero-  fought against all odds to rescue you, and the two of you rode away to your happily ever after in the sunset…

Suddenly, you woke up with a weight across your body, and for a moment you were confused. But a snore from Joel reminded you of your current situation. You held your breath as you fully opened your eyes and adjusted to the low light of the moon through the window. You still stayed on your side, but Joel had rolled over in his sleep and slung an arm around you.

Your heart pounded as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. He groaned in his sleep as he clutched you tighter, and it made you gasp. Not out of discomfort or fear, but from the yearning in your heart.

The noise you made must have woken Joel, who was accustomed to always listening for any sign that Sarah needed him, and he woke up with a low grumble. It took him a moment to realize what he did in his sleep, and once he did, Joel shot awake.

“Shit,” he muttered as he pushed himself off of you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok, Joel,” you whispered as you turned over and faced him. I don’t mind, you thought to yourself but didn’t voice out loud. 

He looked flustered, even as sleep clung to his features. As you took in the sight of him in the moonlight, you noticed the mess of his hair and the softness around his eyes. And it only made Joel more beautiful to you.

“I uhh,” he started, unsure of what to say to break the tension that hung between the two of you.

“Joel…” you started, also unsure of what to do. Part of you screamed to confess your feelings, but the other part was scared of what that would mean. “He was you.”

“What?” Joel asked as he shifted to sit up in bed.

“The hero of the story, the blacksmith that falls in love with the princess and saves her,” your voice was meek as you confessed, “I based him off of you,” slowly, your eyes turned to meet his. 

Joel whispered your name, “Listen I…”

You stared deep into his eyes as he struggled to find the right words. Joel’s gaze darted around the room until it landed in your face, and instead of voicing it with words, Joel turned to action. He scooted himself closer to you and cupped your face in his large hand. It was warm, and you let out a breath as you leaned into his touch.

Joel pulled your face close to his until his lips hovered over yours, “You know you can stop me, right?” his voice was low as he whispered against your skin.

“I know,” you replied in just as soft a voice as you made no move to stop him.

A smirk lit up his face for a moment before he closed the small space between your faces, taking your lips with his in a soft yet heated kiss. You leaned into him as you reached out and clung to his shoulders and parted your lips to deepen the kiss- an invitation he eagerly took.

Things quickly heated up from there as Joel groaned into you, kissing you passionately. All the tension from the unspoken emotions melted away as your tongues tangled together. Neither of you needed the words spoken out loud- the kiss told more than enough for both of you.

Joel gently pushed you down onto your back as he climbed over you, all the while never breaking away from your lips. You moaned into him as you let him take control. The feeling of Joel on top of you was even better than when he held you in his sleep. Before you even realized your movements, you bucked your hips into his, signaling you wanted… needed more. 

“I got you, baby,” Joel groaned softly into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, tugging at your clothes as he did so.

“Joel…” you moaned as your eyes fluttered shut and inch after inch of your skin was exposed to him.

“Shit baby,” Joel growled as he slipped his own t-shirt off, “You’re gorgeous,” his tone was low as he pushed his sweat pants down, freeing his cock.

Your eyes snapped open as you saw Joel, bare before you. Your lips parted as a heavy breath escaped your lips and you drank in the sight of him. The moonlight highlighted his features perfectly, and he looked more handsome than ever.

“So are you, Joel,” you breathed as you tried to push yourself onto your elbows and reach for him.

He took your hands gently and guided you back down onto your back, “Let me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escaped your lips as he settled between your parted legs, wriggling himself down your body and kissing every inch of skin on the way. Joel took his time, gently kneading and kissing your breasts, worshiping your body as he made his way to your pussy.

You quickly turned into a moaning, whimpering mess as Joel’s tongue ran along your nipple while his rough hands cupped your breasts. Already, he made you feel so good, but the more he kissed your skin, the more your need grew. Thankfully, though Joel didn’t rush, he still knew what you wanted and he broke away from your breast with a pop before he knelt down between your legs.

He paused and looked back up at you for a moment, and his cock twitched with desire as he saw the lustful look on your face. Your mouth hung open to let the heavy breaths out, and laying naked in the moonlight you never looked more stunning to him.

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” he groaned before he dove into your body.

You couldn’t even answer when you felt his hot tongue on your folds, licking and sucking at your pussy with fervor. Any thoughts vanished and all you could think of was Joel and how good his tongue felt. Your head dropped back and you screamed with pleasure, your hands clinging and clawing on Joel’s bare shoulders. 

Joel slurped loudly as he let himself go. Any inhibition was gone the moment he tasted you, and instantly he was addicted. And the sounds you made only added to the moment. Joel only got harder and harder the louder you cried out. His hands grabbed onto your thighs, kneading your soft flesh as he kept them parted wide.

“Fuck… Joel…” tears filed your eyes as your body felt like it was floating. 

He groaned into you and only licked harder and faster at your clit, determined to send you over the edge. As much as Joel wanted to talk you through your climax, he couldn’t break away from you even if it were for his last gasp of air. No, Joel wasn’t going to break away until you came into his mouth.

Joel didn’t have to wait long, though, and with just a few more precise flicks of his tongue, you came hard, screaming loudly. One hand flew into his hair, tugging at the thick locks while your legs shook on either side of him. Joel’s hips bucked against the bed on their own, field by your moans and screams as you rode out your climax on his face.

With a loud gasp, Joel finally let go of your pussy. His hands stayed on your legs as he watched you come down from your high, his eyes blown dark and wide with need. Heavy breaths from both of you filled the room as Joel stared at you.

When you finally opened your eyes, you let out a sharp breath before you froze under his gaze. Joel never looked at you like that before, though you imagined that look on his face a hundred times before.

“Joel…”

He pounced forward, taking your lips with own, cutting off whatever you were going to say. Both of you moaned into each other as you clung to the other in your feverish kiss. Joel took the opportunity while you were lost in the kiss to flip your bodies over in one swift movement. You yelped into his mouth as you suddenly found yourself straddling him, looking down on his handsome face.

“Are you sure?” you asked in a whisper, feeling nervous about being on top of Joel.

“I’m sure, baby,” Joel groaned as his hands caressed up and down the sides of your body, “Let me see you ride me, baby.”

The twitch of his cock against your body made you whine, and any insecurities you had disappeared. Placing a hand on his chest, you leaned forward and took his cock with your free hand. Joel’s eyes went wide and he let out a low groan as he watched the moonlight highlight your pussy as you hovered over him.

Joel moaned your name as his hands went to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he helped guide you onto his length. Your eyes met his for a moment before you looked back down, watching as you slowly sank down on the thick length.

His eyes never left you, and he gritted his teeth as the tip of his cock entered your body. Your heat engulfed him, and he couldn’t help the groan he let out as more and more of you wrapped around his cock. You hissed as you adjusted to the stretch, but Joel murmured encouraging words in a low tone to help.

“Look at you, baby. Takin’ me so good like that,” Joel growled, “Fuck you’re so beatiful…”

As your hips met his, you let out a loud gasp as he filled you more than you had ever been filled before. “Fuck… Joel…” you moaned as your eyes fluttered shut as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Joel’s grip tightened on your hips. Caressing your body, Joel’s hands moved back to your ass, squeezing it even harder and making you moan. “That’s it, baby.”

You blinked your eyes open for a moment before shutting them again. All you could do was moan; words failed you. Slowly at first, you lifted your hips a bit before lowering them again, causing you both to gasp. Joel grunted as you repealed the action.

“Fuck…” you moaned as you picked up your pace.

Leaning forward, your hands landed on Joel’s chest, gripping his pecs as you rode him faster and harder. Already sensitive from having cum once, it took you no time to feel the tingle build from the base of your spine as Joel’s cock entered you over and over again.

“Joel… I’m gonna…”

“Fuck… Me too, baby,” Joel’s hands ran up your sides to grab you and yank you down.

Crashing your lips together, Joel thrust his hips up into you from below, matching your rhythm as your climaxes quickly built until you both exploded at the same time. He swallowed the moan you let out as your body trembled overtop of him and your inner muscles squeezed his cock. Joel grunted as he gave one last harsh thrust and came right after you, spilling himself into you as he held you tightly. 

With one last heavy breath, both you and Joel flopped down onto the mattress in a heaving, sweaty mess. You rested on his broad chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat against your ear. Neither of you moved for several moments, just savoring the connection you still had as your breathing returned to normal.

“Hang on, baby,” Joel broke the silence as he wrapped his arms around you once more, “I got you.”

You whimpered as he slid out of you, but you never left Joel’s embrace. He settled you next to him, much like you were before. Only this time, you faced him, and Joel held you with intention. The two of you slipped into place as if you had been together for years. It just felt right… for both of you.

“Joel,” you whispered as sleep started to take you, “I…” you let out a soft snore before you could finish your thought.

Joel grinned as he kissed the top of your head and whispered to your sleeping form, “I know, baby,” he spoke lowly, “Me too.” 

*

Sarah let herself in with her key and bounced up the stairs. Fully expecting to find Joel alone, she burst his door open and loudly announced, “Dad, I’m home,” before she froze in her tracks. She was taken by surprise to find you in her father’s bed, snuggled close in his arms. 

Joel gasped awake and shot upright, “Sarah!” he glanced over and made sure you were covered as you too woke up with a gasp, “What are you doing home so early?”

“It’s noon,” she replied with a mischievous smirk, “It’s about time you two had your own sleepover.”

“Sarah…” Joel chastised her, but she already left the room.

Joel collapsed back down onto the bed with an exasperated sigh, “Shit,” he mumbled before he turned to you and met your gaze. The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment before you both burst into laughter. He pulled you close and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before leaning you down onto his chest. 

“Guess we should get up, huh?” you asked with a soft giggle.

“Yeah,” Joel agreed as he reluctantly let you go.

As you both dressed with your back to each other, your glance over and your breath caught in your chest as you saw Joel’s bare back in the sunlight. He must have felt your eyes on him, or he wanted to sneak a glance at you too, because he looked over his shoulder right after you did. Smirks lit up both your faces as you went back to dressing.

“Hey Joel,” you broke the silence this time.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks,” you spoke in a hushed tone, “For everything.”

Joel finished dressing and walked around the foot of the bed to take you in his arms once more, “You aint never gotta thank me for anything, baby,” he murmured, “I’ve always got you.”

You smiled and closed your eyes contently, “I picked the right man for my hero then… blacksmith.” you snickered at your modern day hero. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel rolled his eyes playfully as you both took your first steps to the bright future. 

[cecilyv]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @screamlet

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 14 (and, full disclosure, all but some of the tumblr fics are with @liminalmemories21)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 151,628

3. What fandoms do you write for? 9-1-1

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? In order: Awful quiet here since love fell asleep (9-1-1, the break up, make up fic), Atlas (bound) (9-1-1, the Buckley parents are trash fic), Baggage that goes with mine (9-1-1, Tommy begins), (I'm in love) but I do not speak the language (9-1-1, the relationship discovery one), and I'll cover you (9-1-1, part II after Baggage, when Buck and Tommy get a dog).

5. Do you respond to comments? I really try. @liminalmemories21 is much better at it than I am, but I do always intend to because each comment is my best beloved.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Erm, we don't really write angsty things? Awful quiet, Atlas and Inside, You've Got Heaven and Earth all start angsty, but don't end there?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh, god, uh, probably What's with today, today? Mostly just because making them all librarians on Stuffie Day itself was an indulgent turducken of a dessert.

8. Do you get hate on fics? not so far, thankfully

9. Do you write smut? a hundred percent more than I ever imagined

10. Do you write crossovers? I drop them in Lim's chat all the time but one has never stuck. Like, the one from this week was Wolfram and Heart is based in LA and reopens and... I don't know, Lindsey sticks around with his evil hand? THNK OF BUCK AND FREAKING OUT WITH THE CURSES AND THE RESEARCH SPIRALS AND...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Err, all of the recent ones because I am nothing (fandom-wise) without Lim

14. What's your all time favorite ship? I have no answer for this. I read like, a decade's worth of Stiles/Derek and literally never watched an episode of the show, but I watched SO MUCH Stargate because John/Rodney, my beloveds. I am still a sucker for a good Arthur/Eames. I would bow down if people brought back silver foxes Fraser/RayK. It's hard to have favorites after over 30 years in fandom.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Lim and I poke things to death, and definitely don't post a lot of them because we can't imagine things not being done before we put them out in the world -- see the Merlin fic of epicness that we started way over a decade ago and still sits in our google docs.

16. What are your writing strengths? I also think this is a thing best answered by others, like hi, Lim, how do I help? I honestly think I'm a better editor than writer? I'm not good about setting scenes, but I'm pretty good about taking drafts and massaging them?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I always want things to feel more lived in than I feel I can accomplish on my own.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I speak english and bad english, so I am terrible about this, but I totally understand that sometimes its warranted.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Popslash and Smallville, and hi, yes, I disappeared for two decades.

20. Favorite fics you've written?

Awful quiet did exactly what I wanted that fic to when we set out to write it, and while maybe I wish some of the OCs were handled better/differently, I'm still happy with how we got from the beginning to end.

The What Binds series definitely put Tommy in a place and time, and there's a reason there's four stories worth of it (hi, I'm super proud of the detail about Tommy losing his virginity to Dave Matthew Band because, come on, people).

I know that Inside, You've Got Heaven and Earth didn't really hit with people, but it addressed something I wanted to fiddle with for Buck and Tommy, and Lim was a trooper for going there with me.

[strawberryamanita]

Alright, I gotta head this off at the pass. If you are feeling uneasy because of the new outrage directed at Mark, please consider giving this a read. I'm just one single schlub, but I know a thing or two about reacting on impulse because of my triggers, and I gotta throw my hat into the ring.

Okay.

I know about the Hospital game video. Very unsettling stuff, I can well imagine. As someone who can't handle graphic depictions of real-life events myself, I'm not going anywhere near the video. I also know now that the TikTok angry mob is looking to cancel him because he hasn't taken the video down as of the publishing of this post(July 11th, 2023, 10:52AM EST).

Y'all, I'm asking you, as a concerned fandom member, to please give Mark the benefit of the doubt. [He uploaded a video literally yesterday] talking about how busy and stressful things have been for him: he just lost his grandmother, he got sick, he gets injured frequently, he's in the middle of filming a movie that he had to take a break from because he was putting himself at risk for damaging his eyes, it just keeps going.

If you're outside the fandom and just having fun sending stray shots everywhere, please know that Mark is not gonna ignore all this when he's able to address it -- but that when is not right now. Mark and his editing team do a good job warning his viewers about common things like flashing lights and exceptionally gross imagery; this other video is a long way from the improvements the channel has made. 7 years ago feels less relevant than 1 day ago.

I'm pretty confident that Mark's not gonna refuse to delete the video because "Oh don't censor art" or whatever he's gonna get accused of. He, like I'm imagining a good deal of people were, was not aware of how real those images were, and it's probably not at the front of his mind because that video is buried under literally thousands of others on the channel. Mark's deleted videos before, he probably doesn't have a special attachment to this video or anything.

And, real quick, before you question why his editors won't just do it for him -- it's still his channel, I don't think he'd be cool with his editors making decisions about deleting things without running it by him.

All of this stemming from TikTok makes perfect sense, seeing how the fandom on tumblr was completely calm before the news was brought in from the outside. TikTok runs entirely on sensationalism and hype and clicks, and the eternal engine of Needing To Cancel Someone comes for us all one day. But I am asking you -- you, the person reading this, not the algorithm on TikTok -- to step back and think about this situation for yourself. No, I'm not just "defending a celebrity" and all that -- I'm trying to say that this uproar is being driven by very intense emotions drummed up by graphic content, and your nerves are probably shot by thinking about it all and I hear all of that. I've done impulsive things while triggered myself, you have all of my sympathy, none of this is to downplay the shockwave hitting you and others right now.

But Mark made a mistake.

Making a mistake does not make someone a bad person. It doesn't make you a bad person, it doesn't make me a bad person, and it doesn't make Mark a bad person.

Please don't keep yourself on constant duty to watch his every move and time how long he's been "ignoring" this on a stopwatch. Mark is known for pushing himself more than he should; the fact that he hasn't addressed this yet is a good sign that he has hit capacity levels of stress.

Let yourself breathe. Distance yourself from the video. Ask around on tumblr for their favorite lighthearted Markiplier videos, or just watch another YT'er if you need to get even further away from this. Prioritize your mental health today. You are going to be okay. This is all going to be okay.

Please let yourself believe that.

[halliescomut]

No Subs watch of My Personal Weatherman Ep 5

There will likely be spoilers but not about any of the dialogue because I don't understand what's being said.

-Talking to....editor I guess?? Not good news ��😟😟

-Opening credits. God these men are so pretty!!!!

-Being depressed on your living room floor- relatable.

-Being depressed on the floor in front of your washing machine- slightly less relatable.

-The lighting in this scene is gorgeous though. Reminds me of the aquarium.

-Daddy's home!!! I mean....nah that's kinda what I meant. 😁

-As much as he adores Yoh, I know this silence is bothering him. Were Segasaki a lesser man he would get (visibly) frustrated, but he stays very gentle. 🥺🥺

-Now Daddy's cooking .... the feelings. The hand close ups. 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 (Sometimes I worry I'm a little too honest on this site.)

-Ooooohhhh. Yummy 😋😋😋

-Anyone else feel like Yoh was like a little bit pissed that Segasaki's food is so good? 🤣 That look just felt a little bit like "Goddammit! You got to be good at this too?!"

-Ooohhhh what did Segasaki say to get that response?? (Edit after continuing- I'm going to assume he was 'asking' Yoh about taking a bath.)

-That smirk 😏😏😏😏

-Segasaki's hand on Yoh's cheek. *Swoon* That deserves its own compilation I think.

-Now we're in the tub 🛀 and Segasaki wants to know why Yoh is so sad. (Remember these are guesses, I can't understand unless it's one of about 15 Japanese words I know...or their names.)

-Yes more affection via hair drying!!! One of my favorite things!!! (Surprised it's not a Dyson blow dryer. I keep seeing them in so many shows, even ones where characters are poor and it makes no sense.)

-We've never seen Segasaki's room have we??

-Yoh instigating kisses 🤭🤭🤭🤭 And more than just kisses??🫣🫣🫣~~~Okay I did have to at least Google translate that interaction, because the vibes were very odd to me. Totally makes sense with the internal monologue Yoh had going. He wants to forget....and that would help him forget. But Segasaki knows what his game is and he's not going to let him hide, literally and metaphorically.

-Yoh the sad little homemaker is depressing me.

-There's something so weird to me about drying a shirt on a hanger. I live in a clothesline household, & line dry clothes all the time, but this is just odd to me. It arguably makes more sense, since clothespins will mess up your clothes sometimes, it's just a bit jarring.

-That is why we have clothespins.

-Yummy ramen. I had that for lunch yesterday. Homemade is yummy, but instant hits different sometimes.

-I think I hate the newscaster lady just bc Yoh does 🤣. (sub solidarity)

-Man-san...Yes I still adore her. Her fashion is a VIBE!! Also her eyebrows are so dynamic. I love it.

-OMG she drew them!!! That's so cute!!!

-IDK what she said, but I imagine it's something along the lines of "See, you make a perfect couple."

-Yoh is so cute. There's a plan for something, though I don't know what?

-They put Segasaki in all of these softly cuddly sweaters at home and I just don't know how anyone is supposed to resist cuddling him.... ykwim?

-I don't know what this conversation is about, but it feels a lot like Segasaki is saying "I can tell when you're lying to me my guy." 😬😬😬

-Did this man just bite him???🤣🤣Well I certainly saw that one, bite confirmed, and it was not a gentle nibble.

-The way Segasaki rubs his head on Yoh like a cat. 🥺😭

-Ope.....well that ended... violently.

-I have mixed feelings about the keychain 🫤 (attempting to minimize spoilers). I understand it, & based on the dynamic of the relationship, I'm okay with it, but I fear it may cause more trouble in the future....😬

-Segasaki looks so sad. 😢😢😢

-Well the preview for next ep includes more Man-san and Mr. Man-san, which I like. According to the Twitters, we're getting complete backstory of the college stuff, which looks very interesting. Also it looks like next ep. will be two weeks away instead of one 😩😩😩😩

[marvel-ousmondays]

Thor

So, cards on the table, Thor was never a favorite of mine.

In terms of the "Chrises", Hemsworth isn't the one I find the most attractive. And a big part of the marketing appeal around Thor in this first film IS about his masculine attractiveness. So when I watched it the first time, I remember thinking "meh, okay" about the movie.

I did enjoy Natalie Portman's character of Jane, LOVED both Sif and Darcy, and Heimdall? C'mon man. No one is cooler than Idris Elba's Heimdall.

So how about this viewing?

This round I was really taken with the cinematography. I don't think I fully appreciated the majesty of Asgard in the first one (or the skill it took to create it), nor the Bifrost, or even Jotunheim. Say what you want about Kenneth Branagh but his films have a beauty to them. (How much of that credit belongs to the editors is up for grabs as obviously post-production is crazy for films like this.) If you are considering a re-watch, I'd strongly encourage you to really look at the environments created for Asgard and Jotunheim- they're gorgeous and unique.

I appreciated Thor's breakdown scene when he can't lift Mjolnir more than I did the first time, probably due to Thor's struggle with worthiness and general depression in Endgame.

I will say in general, I think I appreciated Hemsworth's acting more this round. He has to be this kind of old-timey knight figure among normal people and he has held to that well throughout his whole Avengers tenure. I imagine that is harder than it seems at times.

Despite having finished Loki Season 2 recently, Tom Hiddleston's performance in this first movie doesn't wow me. It's fine, good even, but doesn't stand out to the level one might expect, at least for me. Avengers is coming soon though and there our boy villain shines. I will say I think the problem here is the plot is actually a bit TOO convoluted. The writers couldn't quite decide, or so it appears, what to do with Loki. His anger at his father's deception would be logical but he seems to have turned all that on Thor in a way that didn't fully jive for me. I think there could have been a bit more to show his desire for a throne prior to the reveal OR a bit more of Thor being a bit of a jerk to him. Either would help me understand his motivations more clearly.

Portman, Kat Dennings (Darcy), and Heimdall all stand. I was more interested in Erik Selvig this round and love/hate the fact he was an original character for MCU. (He has since been added to the Marvel comic book universe as well). Coulson was his badass self as always and I had forgotten about Hawkeye's small but important part.

Probably the hardest part for ME with this movie is that the Jotuns were mostly painted as just bad. In some ways Loki is treated as proof that isn't true (never understood why he wasn't blue except when he was holding that casket thing- supposedly Odin magic/illusion I guess?) but then turns. Odin pays lip service to the idea that they can't just attack a whole race for the actions of a few, but we don't SEE any positive or even neutral examples of Jotun. I know people will say that some groups are supposed to be bad, but I think that goes against a core principle of Marvel. No group of beings that we are supposed to see as PEOPLE can be inherently all bad. Now if they had made them monsters, that's different- monsters can be bad or at least, indifferent. But monsters don't have coherent conversations with you either.

I guess I would have liked to see a few Jotun trading or conversing or a Jotun mother with a child or such. Anything of that nature would have "humanized" them more.

Overall, Thor was more beautiful to look at this time around (because I appreciated it more) and overall I'd say more enjoyable, but still not probably in my top 10 of all the movies. Maybe I'll make that list when I finished. Tomorrow- Captain America, with my favorite Chris.

Note for me:

Directed by: Kenneth Branagh

[o0anapher0o]

15 questions game

thanks for the tag @meraki-yao (edit: adding @luainthewild since I've done this not 12 hours before you tagged me)

Are you named after anyone?

No. I think there was some great grand aunt or something, but it’s a common name. My parents just wrote names on a list and compromised on one they could both live with.

When was the last time you cried?

I’m not sure. I cried a lot last year. I want to say it was the day my cat died, but I can’t be sure, last year was tough. (That was also the day I watched rwrb for the first time because I needed something nice to hold me together. The way it hits me every time I hear Taylor talking about losing his dog while they shot. Ugh.)

Do you have kids?

No.

What sports do you play/have you played?

I’ve played Squash since I was about 12 and probably will as long as my current partner is able to. After that we’ll see what happens.

I used to play football (soccer) and table tennis in school, but that was hardly more than messing around. For reference, the girls’ football team in my school had three regular members during the three years I was one of them. You can imagine how efficient our training was XD

Do you use sarcasm?

No, the last sentence was completely serious.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Idk their hair? I’ve confused customers for other customers because they had similar hairstyles.

What’s your eye color?

Green.

Scary movies or happy endings comedies?

Anything but scary movies. If they’re good, I’ll be scared which I don’t like and if they’re bad, I’ll be annoyed which isn’t much better.

Any talents?

I consider myself a decent writer.

I do have basic talent for art but I haven’t nourished this talent so I’m still not very good at it.

Where were you born?

Munich

What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, obsessing over actors, musicians and media properties, walking, travelling (when I have time and money), cooking/baking, collecting books

Do you have any pets?

Not at the moment since my cat passed in september.

How tall are you?

1.64m

Favorite subject in school?

That changed dramatically depending on age and teacher. Most consistently probably German. They make you write stories when you’re small and read books when you’re older, so…

Dream job?

There are occupations I would love to do (writer, librarian, editor). The problem is they all lose a lot of their appeal when it comes to trying to make a living off of them. The job part if you will.

NPT @england-would-fall, @droids-in-disguise, @wordsofhoneydew

[sallysellsseashellssundays]

Father’s Day-DW Confidential

I’m so glad I started watching these, this is the one I was looking forward to the most for series 1 b/c of how much I love this episode. Honestly I’d quote the entire thing just because of how good it was, but here’s three of my favorites...

“We spent a few episodes sort of showing how good a companion Rose is, so having done that it’s time in episode 8 to push that to its extreme and say ‘actually sometimes she gets it wrong’, but she gets it wrong, when Rose gets it wrong it’s under extraordinary circumstances.” -RTD (showrunner)

“The wound in time it’s not entirely Rose’s fault it’s a two-way street, the Doctor cares a great deal about her so he’s vulnerable to her suggestions and her input and never imagined that she’d do something like this.” -Paul Cornell (writer ep 8)

“With Rose, by now he should have learned his lesson and just done nice things with his companion, just taken her for a nice meal or something, rather than meddling around in her own past ‘cause it never ends well.” -Clayton Hickman (DWM Editor)

(I hope I got those right, I still have a difficult time with the accents!)

I’ve always been of the opinion that Rose had a very realistic emotional response and it was nice to see so many of the people involved discussing it in that same manner. 

It was interesting to see how Nine’s response was characterized as being alien in not fully understanding why it would be a powerful moment for Rose, but at the same time family being something that he was yearning for. Plus all the clips of Classic Who interspersed with those statements made it even more interesting.

As always one of the most fascinating parts was seeing how they made the effects, especially the part where they showed an actor pretending to be attacked by Reapers!

One of the things that stood out to me near the end was Shaun discussing how Pete one ‘ordinary man’ saved the world and how nobody really realized it, which seemed to me to be almost word for word what Rose said about Gwyneth. It’s honestly one of my favorite things about the RTD era this continued pattern of one single person being able to make a difference :)

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter - Monday, February 27th

XANDER: You said it yourself, Will ... the magic's too strong, there's no coming back from it. WILLOW: I'm not coming back.

~~Villains~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

the farthest thing from a monster (Buffy/Faith, T) by thatnerdemryn

[Brazilian Portuguese] you are the bad girl I always dreamed of (Buffy/Faith, G) by odd__girl

[Chaptered Fiction]

Not Back to the Future Rules Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Lady Emma

Origins Chapter 35 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Niamh

Sculpture of Dance Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Desicat

The Office Hellmouth Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Willow25

It's Easy Time, Until It's Not Chapter 20 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only) by hulettwyo

who could ever leave me, darling—but who could stay? (you could stay) Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by MillenialCryBaby

Bleeding Poetry Chapter 71 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Dusty

Drowning Chapter 1 (Buffy/Tara, T) by BeatriceEveryTuesday

The Suite Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, E) by hulettwyo

Unmasking Chapter 1 (Cordelia/Anya, T) by BeatriceEveryTuesday

[Image, Audio & Video]

Art : Buffy x Faith drawing by gendergeezer

PODCAST : Flooded S6 E4 (Buffy and the Art of Story Podcast) by lisalilly

[Fandom Discussions]

I don’t understand the discourse that Buffy didn’t try hard enough with Riley by zalrb

imagine sleeping on restless by norakovacst

Buffy’s Arsenal: Your Wishes and Wants? by Plasma

Did anyone think Riley was more interesting this season? by Benz

"Can I have you?" by Joan the Vampire Slayer

Walsh's Choice to Kill Buffy: Smart or Stupid? by BuffyNvrForgets

Riley lights up Season 4 by telperion66

Giles' house as Scooby HQ by telperion66

Q&A with fanfic writer Chelle on Saturday 25th of February 2023! by flow

Buffy The Last Vampire Slayer Special #1 by BAF

Is there a reason Boom is no longer released Angel comic? by Guywhoknownothing

Reacting to Reactions! - BtVS Season 4 by Stoney

my buffy reboot idea by PhotojournalistGold6

Conversation between Kate and her Dad in 1.15 “The Prodigal” by AccordingReference3

Xander-centric Episodes by MatchingMyDog1106

22 years ago Willow & Tara shared the first kiss between 2 women in a commited long-term relationship by InfiniteMehdiLove

Favorite plot holes that you have found! by gabbymay1111

Thoughts and opinions after first watch through of BTVS by im_calig

Buffy's TV Canon Returns in New Special THE LOST SUMMER by jellymoff

Why does Giles sometimes omit the word "that"? by Tuxedo_Mark

Dead Man's Party captured the impact of mental illness pretty well by Diligent_Flamingo_33

Who's going to be next? by 312Michelle

Anya if she was gay by Ajacentmagic

Took me almost a year but I finally finished Buffy by LuckyRadiation

Where Do You Watch it? by screedvachon

Imagine if in an AU version of Five by Five.... by LightBlueSky55

s1 e9, Sid the dummy talks about the Korean slayer back in the 30s that he knew by Boring_Door3942

The official trailer for one of my favorite Buffy games... by 312Michelle

Imagine if in an AU version of Five by Five.... by LightBlueSky55

Are vampires stronger when they vamp out and show their face? by wtffu006

tell me you're a BTVS fan without telling me you're a BTVS fan? by spuffy4life

Fred by mushabo0om

Angel S5 ep 12: husband reaction by gabbymay1111

Drastic Buffy reboot changes by anonperson3210

Still one of the best character developments I've seen on any show by Defvac2

Crack Ships Whedonverse Style Part One by Captainoats88

What's your favorite Spike quote? by bethwatt01-t

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

[peterrparrkerr]

Oh man, last up is Kidnapped. I have so many thoughts on this one friend, so bear with me.

In the beginning, Peter has anxiety attacks all the time, and combined with his asthma, Peter spends his days exhausted, stuck in the arms of the one who causes the attacks but also calms them. Tony expected this, and understands that this Peter isn't his Peter, so is sickly. In his spare time, he tinkers with a modified spider extremis, because he misses his spider but doesn't want to risk this Peter dying from the venom but also don't want an extremis Peter.

Eventually Peter starts to adjust. He sees the proof of the love this Tony had for the other Peter, saw how devoted they were to each other. And he starts to think, maybe it won't be so bad. He misses home, oh how he misses home, but Tony dotes on him, and is so patient and gentle even as he sees the man snap and yell at everyone else.

Peter is also fascinated with JARVIS, and the lab, and the AI Tony eventually makes him to be his friend. This Peter is younger but still a genius, and Tony has time to raise him right. He doesn't limit Peter, instead encouraging him, and this Peter takes the web formula and turns to medicine, to building, and other things to help those in need.

One day, the tower is attacked (or they're out and about) and Peter gets hurt. Tony decides he won't wait any longer and injects Peter with the gene editors. Peter feels like he's dying and burning alive and just in so much pain, and when it's finally over Tony is there soothing him. He hasn't left the boy's side through the while process, and Peter clings to him, so scarred after what had happened. He assumes the changes were from the attack and Tony doesn't correct him. The AIs are forbidden from revealing the truth.

Peter struggles to adjust to the new abilities. He's sticky and strong and heals fast, and technology reacts weird to him now though it's more like he fries it if he touches it. And Tony is there, patient and pleased that Peter will be much better suited to protecting himself.

Tony insists in the Widow and the Soldier teaching him to protect himself, and the boy really starts filling out into a man, which is when Tony starts building their relationship out to the next step.

He woos him just like he did his old Peter, showing him that yes he loved him even if he wasn't his original Peter because the essence of being Peter was the most beautiful thing he could ever have. And roll the smut reel.

This fic @snowstark

Listen this is probably one of my favorite superior fics!! I wanted Tony to be so selfish that instead of taking a Peter from another version of himself, he took one where he wasn't even a factor. He left all the Peters who never even met Tony alone because there was a chance they'd meet, and Tony wanted himself in every universe to have his own Peter.

So of course he'd know some universes, Peter was dead, and others, Tony was dead. He didn't want to deal with the hassle of taking a greiving Peter, so MCU Peter was left alone.

But then he finds a world where magic and super heros don't exist, and he finds this sweet little 17 year old Peter, who's Tony died when he'd been kidnapped during his Jereko missile demonstration.

This Peter is perfect. I imaging Tony doesn't take him right away. He sits by and watches him for a few days before he takes him. Knowing he's the only enhanced being in this universe makes it so much easier to get away with everything.

Peter in the new world is so cute too. I imagine once the anxiety has worn off the first couple weeks, Tony tries to distract him by showing him all the differences in their world.

Peters always been a sci-fi nerd and he loves all of it, and it distracts him enough for him to start getting more comfortable around the Superior.

And Tony explains how his world works -because it's his, no one else's- and Peter is so fascinated by the differences and the magic and enhancements. He doesn't even realize he hasn't asked to go home in weeks.

Then one day he asks about the Superior's Peter. Because why would someone like Tony go through all that trouble to find someone like Peter? Obviously Superior's Peter had something he doesn't. There's no way Tony was in love with him, just another version of himself. A better version.

But Tony kept a photo book. His Peter had made it (because let's be real Peter is a sweetheart and definitely takes lots of pictures) and when he died, Tony kept it.

And Peter sees it.

Plz an attack that puts Peter in danger would further solidify their growing bond I think. It happens when Peters still wanting to go home, but also learning about everything. He gets hurt and Superior fucking explodes. Cause he's already lost one Peter, he's not about to lose this one.

The serum takes and Peter definitely struggles, but it's perfect for Tony. Peter wouldn't be able to go home now. Not with how he is. His world would kill him, and they both know it.

And obviously Nat and Bucky train him on how to use his gifts and protect himself, but Tony refuses to let him become Spiderman. That was how his Peter died in the first place, and it would be stupid to allow this Peter to fall into the same trap.

This would be a slow burn definitely. Peters still young and I don't think he would've dated in his world yet. And the fact that the superior is so much older, and the new world, it all is too much for Peter to add dating into it.

But they get there, and the first time Tony fucks Peter, it's the best. Peter didn't expect it to feel that good, and Tony knows just what Peter likes. There's a lot of similarities between both Peters. They both like m&ms and hate green apple candies and there's a spot just under the head of their cocks that make them go wild when Tony drags his fingernail over it.

But there's also so many differences, and Tony loves this Peter all the more for them. He's quieter, less confident. He doesn't fight as often. Not as stubborn. He follows Tony around like a puppy and clings to him whenever he can.

There's definitely a lot of turbulence in the beginning, but now, it's perfect and Tony refuses to let this Peter die.

[fruitcoops]

So this is sort of similar to the people writing fanfic about the lions but can you imagine the YouTube edits? Like the videos that are just "Cap having heart eyes for Loops for 10 minutes straight" or "Loops lovingly dragging Caps name through the mud for 3 minutes" like those kinds of things and I can just imagine them doing reaction videos and it just being funny and the world just loving coops

Okay so this wasn't a specific fic request but I got carried away with imagining videos and....here you go. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Grace and Anna are mine! Bonus points to anyone who remembers the easter egg in this one!

Message From: Gracie

ANNA HOLY SHIT

Anna frowned at her phone screen, squinting to read around the spiderweb crack decorating the upper corner. She had tried to convince herself that it was cool, goth, edgy, but in the end she had to admit that it was just irritating. In a tragic turn of events, packing tape couldn’t fix everything.

Message To: Gracie

Wtf did I do

Two weeks of radio silence, then unexplained accusations. Anna shook her head as the grey bubble disappeared for a third time and turned back to her computer. Grace may have been her favorite cousin—and favorite person, if she was being honest—but very few things came between Anna and video editing. Especially editing for a Lions meme video. She had a whole 2,341 followers to attend to, after all.

Message From: Gracie

DID YOU SEE THE FUCKING INTERVIEW???

Message To: Gracie

Wow thank you so helpful

Message From: Gracie

Skip to 2:45 bestie

A link popped up just as Anna cut a segment from the sleep study video, where Loops’ heart eyes were in full effect. It was a rare, precious find for fan editors like herself.

“Come on,” she groaned. Maybe introducing Grace to the deepest parts of her hockey obsession was a mistake. But, really, what else was she supposed to do when she learned her cousin, who didn’t even live in Gryffindor, got to meet her favorite players just by chilling in a café? What kind of cosmic joke was that?

She narrowed her eyes at the embed of the link, then stifled a shriek. Impossible. How had she missed an upload?

As if on cue, her computer pinged with a new notification from the Lion Pride channel. “Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, scrambling to save her half-done video and pressing play.

The interviewer asked basic questions, ones she had heard the answers to a million times while curating her content. It always felt funny to hear people refer to Cap as ‘Sirius’—it was too official, too formal. She had spent countless hours on the compilations of his softer moments, and they were her most popular videos. Cap Having Heart Eyes for Loops for 10 Minutes Gay. Cap Being an Actual Puppy for Six and a Half Minutes. Everyone Wanting Cap Cuddles for Fifteen Minutes. Every Time Cap Smiles When Someone Mentions His Godson. The list was endless. She loved it.

She did a silent fist pump when she saw the interviewer had snagged both Cap and Loops; that would give her a whole new stream of workable content. If she was lucky, she could expand on her series of Loops Lovingly Roasting His Friends, part…fuck it, who was even counting anymore?

Anna was so caught up in her excitement that she nearly forgot about Grace’s suggestion. I’ve never skipped through a video on the first watch before, she thought hesitantly. But maybe just this once…

Her cursor hovered over the 2:45mark. She closed her eyes, and clicked it.

“—have you been adjusting to life as a celebrity?” the interviewer asked. Anna nearly rolled her eyes when Loops laughed. That question had been used far too often to be interesting anymore.

“It’s had its ups and downs,” Loops said with a smile. “Mostly, though, the fans have been incredible and just knocked my socks off with their support.”

“Really? What’s your favorite part of the Lions fanbase?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Their creativity, for sure. There was a video a while back where we reacted to some of the comments people left, and this person on Twitter made an absolutely beautiful collage of photos.”

“I have it saved to my phone,” Sirius added.

One more clip for the simp video. Anna made a note on the small corner space of her European History notes. The degree can wait for ten more minutes.

“Do you have a favorite creator?”

The interviewer was clearly teasing, but Loops’ smile was genuine. “I don’t know about a favorite, but there’s this person on YouTube who makes a shit ton of videos and they’re hysterical. I saw one the other day about—god, what was it again?”

“Every time I smile when people mention Harry,” Sirius answered around a laugh. “Can you blame me?”

Anna didn’t hear the next question. A ringing noise filled her ears as she sat, frozen, on her shitty dorm mattress and listened to her literal heroes talk about her dorky little channel. “Holy fuck,” she blurted after a moment of silence. “Holy fuck.”

“—subscribed?” The man’s voice snapped her back to reality.

“Of course I am!” Loops said. “You think I’m passing up a chance to watch a compilation of my friends making stupid decisions for the entire internet to see?”

A noise that would have been a shriek if Anna had any breath left in her body escaped her lungs; she clamped a hand over her mouth and shakily exited from the video before going to her YouTube account. 800 new notifications. 700 new followers in the last quarter hour. She was pretty sure she blacked out for a second from sheer shock and joy.

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

You’re famous!

Message To: Gracie

What

Message From: Gracie

I bet he knows your stuff better than he remembers me tbh

“They know me,” she whispered, staring at her computer. The unfinished video showed a perfect frame of Loops’ soft smile as he watched Cap get his toothbrush stuck in his pajama shirt. Somehow, the thought was both exhilarating and horrifying. What if they thought she was a creep? She wasn’t, not really, just a bored college student with not enough free time for a job but too much to keep herself busy with schoolwork. Her 2,341—no, 3,052—followers were just other hockey nerds looking for time to kill.

And the subject of those videos was one of her subscribers.

Anna slipped her headphones back on and began to edit like it was her last day on earth. Her fingers flew across the keyboard on muscle memory while her brain fizzed. Perfect, she thought. It has to be perfect.

In four hours, it was done. She sat back, panting, then hunched over again and began tapping out a title card.

Hello. Idk if anyone saw the new Lion Pride video today (linked below if anyone wants to see why I’m dying right now) but apparently Remus Lupin is subscribed to this channel and has been for a while.

Hi Loops. I’m Anna. You met my cousin once and she said she liked your sweater.

Now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy the next five minutes of our new rookie being the sappiest mf in existence (except for his fiancé). Mr. Lupin, please tell Hattie I say hello.

She pressed upload, peeled her headphones off, and collapsed backward on her bed.

Message To: Gracie

If I die here, tell the world I did it doing what I loved

Message From: Gracie

Will do

OH FUCK YOU FOR BRINGING UP THE SWEATER I SOUND LIKE A CREEP

Anna covered her itchy eyes with her forearm and settled in for a long, long nap. Her brain still needed to repair a few circuits.

[thelastdrop]

Surprise

Momoland Nancy & Momoland Ahin x Male Reader

6586 words

Categories: smut, threesome, shower sex

Read on AFF

Editors: @worldsover​​ and @nsfwflint​

A warm summer’s air passes into the open window of your company car. Why the company would ever give you an Audi as your company car is still beyond your knowledge, but there is no way you were going to complain about getting a free ride. You would have taken anything they gave you, so the black leather seats, touch screen interface, hands-free calling, and all the other bells and whistles were novel amenities that took some getting used to.

On your right you see the sign for your apartment complex’s parking. You take the turn over the sidewalk and begin to descend toward the garage. An automatic gate is lifted as a sensor picks up on your car's barcode from a sticker on your front windshield. Living in a complex that has a nice garage like this was one of the main things you were looking for when you and your girlfriend were picking out a place to live.

You and Nancy have been having a great time together recently. Your relationship had taken the next step when you both decided to move in together about a month ago. Living together not only gave you both the opportunity to see each other more, but it also gave you something to look forward to after you would come home from work. Nancy is always there to greet you with a warm smile and a hug as you walk in the door.

You park your car in your ‘assigned’ spot. Not that they were really assigned but most residents would park their cars in the same place every day so they could take a short walk to the elevators. Stepping into the elevator, you press your floor number and it lights up causing the metal doors to close in front of you. A sigh of relief is exhaled from your lungs. Finally you made it to the weekend and won’t have to worry about work for the next two days. 

With a soft bing bong the metal doors open again. Exiting out onto the intricately designed carpeted floor, you make your way down the well kept corridor towards your apartment. Picking out your apartment from everyone else's is made easier by Nancy’s love of home decor. A different wreath always hangs on your door depending on the season, and this one happens to be a vibrant green leaf wreath with yellow Daylilies interwoven throughout. 

“Welcome home oppa!” Nancy announces as you walk in the door. “How was your day today? I hope it wasn’t too hard.” She approaches you and gives you a kiss on the cheek while you take your coat off and hang it on a coat rack near the entrance.

Nancy’s love of decor doesn’t stop at the door. She’d fallen in love with a contemporary style of decorating after seeing it in one of her friend’s places. On the cream walls are splashes of color found in different objects, your favorite being a Marilyn Monroe painting you’d picked out after seeing a street artist selling it. The background of the painting looked as if the artist took red, yellow and orange paint and threw them on the canvas. After letting it dry, they came back and painted a very minimalistic face of Marilyn Monroe using only black to outline and white to fill.

“No it wasn’t too bad. I actually got praise from my boss on my work with the Kosak account.” 

“That’s great! Well I do have a bit of an ask from you…” she trails off. Her eyes narrow, gauging your reaction from your face.

Nancy has a problem with always wanting to help her friends out. No matter what the issue is she will, without fail, say yes to whatever they need her help with. It’s caused her to miss dates before, show up late for work, it’s even made her forget to pick you up from the airport. So you already know that this is going to be a major ask since she never runs these things by you.

You let out a deep sigh. “I hope it isn’t something that’s going to mess with my birthday,” you sternly reply since it is 5 days away.

“Oh no oppa, I would never forget something like that,” she says as she takes your right arm between her boobs, knowing how much you like them. “I just wondered... if it would be okay... for Ahin to stay with us for the next week while she looks for a new place?” Nancy asks with her voice getting higher by the end of her question.

“You want what?” you say with mild annoyance, “Nancy we barely just moved in together and now you want to throw someone else into the mix? She could ruin the good thing we have going here.” You pull your arm out from between her boobs and turn to walk into the living room.

Nancy scurries in front of your path and buries her face in your chest. “But please oppa? I promise it’ll be like she isn’t even here,” Nancy says with big puppy dog eyes focused on you.

Her ultimate move. You have never been able to tell Nancy no whenever she looks up at you with her dark brown eyes and puckers her lip. The other thing this look did was always give you a great view down her shirt, which you're pretty sure is why she wore her thin strapped tank top today.

“A-Alright she can stay over. But only for a week,” you cave as your face warms up causing you to turn your head away.

“Yay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you oppa! You're the best boyfriend ever!” she says as she jumps in front of you, her tits bouncing up and down.

In the middle of her celebration, a gentle knock raps on the door.

“Oh that must be her,” Nancy says, skipping over to the door.

“Wait... you already asked her? What if I said no?”

“I know you weren’t gonna say no,” she says in a sultry tone giving you a wink.

You smack yourself in the head on missing an opportunity to have Nancy begging for something. How far would she have gone to have her way?

Fortunately, it wasn’t one of Nancy’s other friends. Yeonwoo and Hyebin were two bombshells that you’ve always been attracted to. Obviously not as much as Nancy, but having one of them around could have led to some… interesting situations.

The last time you saw Ahin she had a short bobbed haircut with bangs. She never really struck you as an overly sexy type of girl, but rather as someone who you could bring home to mom and dad. She had a very homely kind of aura about her calming your worries about having one of Nancy’s friends stay over with you. 

“Ahhhh! I’m so glad you’re here,” Nancy says through the slit of the ajar door only big enough for her to fit through. She reaches both arms through and gives the person on the other side a hug. The door knocks open as they jump and hug each other, revealing a bouncing head of blonde hair on the other side of the hug.

As they break the hug, you get a good look at the other girl and you're left speechless. If this was Ahin, she’d almost completely re-invented her image. What was once a short brown bob with bangs is now long flowing blonde hair that’s parted in the middle. It frames her face so much better than her old haircut did, making you focus on things like her piercing hazel eyes and her plump red lips more than you would have.

You knew Ahin had a pretty good figure, especially when she would wear tight shirts that showed off her large bust, but this just blew you out of the water. A thin strapped darker pink dress with roses and irises hugs her in all the right places, showing off her massive tits and giving you plenty of cleavage to gawk at. It also clings tightly to her stomach and ass, not leaving a lot to the imagination. 

When your eyes finally start to work their way back up Ahin’s body, she stares right at you. She gives you a subtle wink as Nancy snaps you out of the trance. 

“Come on oppa, greet our guest,” Nancy says, pulling you in closer to the two of them.

“Oh, yeah. Um hey Ahin... you look, like, really good.” you say as you stumble your way through the conversation, “When did all of this change happen?”

“Oh this?” Ahin says as she does a little twirl, “Nancy didn’t say anything to you about it? Ah, what kind of friend are you that you don’t brag to your boyfriend about me?”

“I was planning on telling him, but something must have happened and it slipped my mind.”

Ahin extends both of her arms. “Well don’t be shy now. Nothing’s changed, I'm still the same old Ahin as before, so can I have a hug oppa?” she says with a little head tilt.

You quickly glance at your girlfriend for reassurance, but she just gives you a ‘why are you looking at me’ look. When you step forward and embrace Ahin, she pulls you deeper into the hug pressing her boobs against your chest. The feeling of her soft mounds pushing up against you covers a much larger area than Nancy’s do. 

Before you break your hug, Ahin goes up on her tiptoes and whispers into your ear, “We’re going to have a lot of fun while I’m staying with you oppa~.” As she finishes her sentence, she blows lightly on your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“Well, come with me Ahin and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping while you’re here,” Nancy says as she grabs her hand, pulling Ahin toward the guest bedroom you’ve been using as a stay at home office. 

“Oh, and oppa! Grab Ahin’s bags for her would you!” Your girlfriend calls out from the other room.

“Sure thing!” you yell back as you pick up the rolling suitcase and walk towards the room where the two women are.

—

It’s been three days since Ahin came to stay with you and Nancy, and to say Ahin was having fun messing with you would be an understatement. Everything that she wore was extremely revealing. If Ahin had a thin strapped tight tank top, she would walk in front of you while watching TV and pick something up off your coffee table. You swear you saw a silhouette of her nipple poking out from those beautiful round mounds, but you quickly averted your gaze when you heard Nancy make some noise in the other room.

As you got home today, you’re relieved that the work week was finally over. All you can think about is a nice warm shower, before getting into some comfortable clothes and watching TV with Nancy cuddled up beside you on the couch. 

Opening the door to the apartment, you aren’t met with your usual warm welcome you’ve become accustomed to. 

“Hey I’m back,” you call out to the dark, quiet apartment to see if you could get a response, but no luck.

After taking off your coat and hanging it up, you walk into the kitchen and flip on the lights. A note left on the marble countertop.

“Gone out to the store. Be back later with food~” - Nancy ♥

You love how in sync you and Nancy are. Even without telling her you wanted to just stay home tonight and just order something, she is already getting some food for you two to eat tonight.

Rummaging through a drawer beneath the counter, you pull out a pen and write a response to her note.

“If I’m still in the shower when you get back feel free to join me ;)”

And now a nice warm shower awaits you. You make your way through the apartment and notice that the light to the room Ahin is staying in was also off. Looks like Nancy forgot to turn off the lights in your bedroom though. It follows much of the same style the rest of your apartment does. Your bed frame is made out of black wood and the sheets and pillowcases that adorned it are eggshell white. You have no qualms about the style since Nancy really knew what she wanted when she found the place. 

The buttons on your shirt easily come undone as you walk into your bathroom. You toss all your clothes into the hamper before turning on the shower. The ice cold water catches your hand so you quickly try to remove it before getting hit by the painful chill. Letting the shower warm up, you move over to your sink and take your contacts out. Click. Click. The front door. Nancy must be here.

You quickly throw the lenses into a small trash can and scamper into the shower. Luckily the water is nice and warm now so you aren’t entering a cold shower. Closing the glass door behind you, you splash some water onto the two glass walls of the shower to make it seem like you’ve been in there for a bit.

Soon enough the door to the bathroom creaks open, but you pretend not to hear it. With some shampoo in your hands, you lather your head thoroughly. You begin to pick up what sounds like different articles of clothing quietly hitting the floor. Some heavier than others signaling that Nancy is trying to be quiet and sneak up on you.

You decide to play along and have some fun with it. Keeping your back turned to her, you continue to wash yourself. A sudden rush of cold air enters the almost sauna-like shower.

Wasting no time, a pair of hands reach around and caress your chest before working their way down the front of your body. A soft hum comes from your closed mouth and they reach your hardening cock. One hand slowly begins to pump as the other one massages your balls.

Your eyes flutter closed as the hand that was gliding up and down your shaft begins to fist the head of your cock.

“Fuck that feels so good…” you let out breathily as you slowly begin to hump into her hand.

“Mmmm now I see why Nancy wanted you to move in with her so badly.” A voice different from your girlfriend says in a sensual tone.

Your eyes snap open and you spin around to see Ahin completely naked standing in the shower with you. The blonde woman stands there with lustful eyes as she scans you up and down, like an animal examining its prey.

You take a step back out of the water and retreat under the showerhead. Ahin doesn’t flinch to walk into the warm water and let it cascade over her body. Streams flow between her soft mounds then down her tight stomach, before they finally reach her thighs. Not a single drop goes down her body and hits the drain without you staring at it. It’s just water after all.

“I know Nancy wanted it to be a surprise tomorrow, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. Teasing you the last few days has been way too much fun, and I know you can’t take your eyes off me.”

“N-nancy wanted it to be a surprise tomorrow? W-what does that mean?” you stutter out while this goddess of a woman pulls her wet hair back so none of it is in her face.

“Nancy wanted to give you a really nice birthday present,” Ahin says as she steps forward out of the water and places her hands on the tiled wall behind your head, “and asked if I could help her give it to you. But I really couldn’t help myself after seeing your little note.”

Ahin reaches down and wraps her hands around your cock. Her hands corkscrew in opposite directions as they glide up and down the length of your rock hard shaft. Your head lurches back against the tiled wall, closing your eyes from the pleasure of her soft hands..

Wasting no time,Ahin latches onto your exposed neck and begins kissing upwards along your jawline. “So if you’re willing… to keep a secret… till tomorrow… you and I… can have a little fun… before Nancy gets back…” Ahin says in between each of her kisses.

In a flash Ahin is on her knees in front of you. She releases your cock and takes her boobs before she sandwiches your cock between them. Nancy has done this for you many times before, but there was something different about the way Ahin felt. Maybe the pressure, the movement, it may just be doing it in the shower that made the difference. Whatever the reason, it feels immaculate.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss out.

“You like that oppa? You’ve been staring at them all week so I thought you’d enjoy this.”

Unable to fully respond, your groans are enough to let her know you want her to continue. Regaining enough composure, you look down at Ahin. She stares right at you, studying the slightest movements in your body while taking mental notes of what you seem to be fond of. A big grin appears on her face right before she quickens her pace causing your face to contort in pleasure.

With all of your blood rushing out of your head and the heat that is sitting inside of the shower, you lose all inhibition against the bombshell throwing herself at you. You reach down and grab Ahin’s wrists, bringing her back onto her feet. You pull them above your head to spin her around, then you pull them back down, locking them behind her back. Her ragged breath fogs up the glass while her tits press up against the cold glass shower wall.

"That’s it oppa. Fuck me like I know you want to," Ahin says in a lurid tone as she sticks her ass out to sandwich your cock in between her plump ass and your stomach. You let go of her wrists and bring your hands around to cup her breasts.

She lets out a pained whine when you squeeze her soft tits. 

“If we do this, we have to tell Nancy as soon as she gets back,” you grunt out as Ahin grinds her ass up against you.

“I have a better idea.” Ahin smirks as she pulls away from you and reaches out of the shower door and grabs her phone. She opens up her camera then grabs your hand and puts it on her supple breast. 

“Well come on! Get in frame,” she says looking back at you. Maybe you shouldn’t send something like this to your girlfriend. “Trust me Nancy will love this.” 

Still unsure about how this might play out you can tell that Ahin won’t let this go. You reposition yourself so you can see your face in the picture. Ahin poses seductively with one hand wrapped around your dick and another hand stroking the opposite tit to the one you’re grabbing. Giving a smirk and wink to the camera she snaps the picture.

Ahin takes her hand off your dick and begins to fiddle with her phone. A few seconds later she reaches back out of the shower door and places it on the sink counter. “There that should get her home faster,” she says as she turns back to you.

Without hesitation, Ahin throws her arms around your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. At this point you’ve given up on resisting her advances and wrap your arms around her waist to pull her deeper into your lip’s embrace. The faint taste of cherries passes across your tongue as you work her lips open and invade her mouth. Ahin moans as your hands find purchase on her plump ass to pull her up on her tiptoes.

“God, I need you to stick this in me right fucking now.” She moans as turns around and places her hands on the glass wall.

“No. I want to do it over here.” You pull her through the water so you're both under its warm current. Ahin lets out a little yelp but it turns into a giggle as she realizes what you are doing. She then places her hands along the tiled wall and arches her back so her ass sticks out for you.

“Now fill me up oppa,” she says, looking back over her shoulder.

You line up with her folds as the water rushes down her back and over her ass. Wanting to tease her a bit, you slowly push the head of your cock into her, causing a long moan to escape her mouth. Inch by inch, you sink into her warm velvety cavern as Ahin tries to push back against you to speed up the process. However, you hold her hips in place and continue until you hilt inside her. Ahin lets out a satisfied moan when your thick cock fills her. You hold her there a moment, enjoying the feeling of her walls stretching around your length.

Pulling your hips back till your head is the only part that remains inside her, you snap your hips forward. Your pelvis and her ass clap loudly at your force, splashing water as you relentlessly thrust. A yelp escapes Ahin’s lips, invigorating you even more. You build a steady rhythm as you continue to make Ahin moan. Her warm walls feel tighter than Nancy’s, clinging to your cock in an almost desperate manner. 

You lean over Ahin’s back and kiss the back of her neck as you continue to thrust into her. Her big beautiful breasts swing back and forth putting you in a trance. You swear you could hear them calling out to you, begging you to grab them and fill your hands with her smooth tits.

As you grasp each one in your hands you begin to knead them, making Ahin sigh in bliss. Wanting to earn even more a reaction out of her, you pinch her stiff nipples with your index and thumb and pull on them lightly. Your reward is given quickly when Ahin’s legs quiver at the pleasure mounting from your fingers and your pistoning shaft. She takes one hand off the wall and circles, clit with it.

“Oh SHIT! Just like that… don’t stop… please don’t stop,” Ahin chants as she is pushed closer and closer to the edge.

Not needing to be told twice, you double your efforts and place one hand on her shoulder and return the other to her hip giving yourself better leverage. Long and hard strokes into her tight cavern aim for the same sensitive spot every time. Each thrust causes Ahin’s body to lunge forward slightly, moving her up onto her tiptoes. 

Suddenly, Ahin lets out a loud moan as her walls begin to clamp down around your cock. You feel your balls begin to tighten while the muscles in your groin begin to burn. Her orgasm doesn’t stop you from thrusting with all your might and your own climax soon follows. You pull out of Ahin and stroke yourself as you aim your dick at her back. Long streaks of white arc across her back and ass when you are sent over the edge.

Breathing heavily, Ahin turns around and leans against the wall as you place a hand beside her head to steady yourself as you try to gain some composure back. 

“Holy shit Ahin. That felt amazing.” you pant. Her hazel eyes pierce yours, your vision returning from a blur.

Ahin smirks and begins to move in for a kiss but stops just short of your lips, tilting her head to look over your shoulder with a sly smile.

“Finally decided to join us Nancy?” Ahin says in a joking manner.

You spin around to see your girlfriend standing there with an annoyed look on her face. Her arms are crossed, lifting her chest up, as her foot taps the ground snappily. Before you can say anything Nancy cuts in.

“Really Ahin! I told you to just hold it in till tomorrow and you’d get to have all the fun you wanted with us. But noooooooo I guess you couldn’t silence that inner slut of yours for just one more night.”

You and Ahin stand there in stunned silence looking at Nancy as her eyes dart between the two of you. You look back at Ahin with a look that says “I thought you said this was okay!” This deafening quietness is broken by Nancy once again.

“Alright fine. He can just have it tonight… But you owe me a round before you get both of us,” Nancy says as she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor and turns to walk out.

Ahin tries to hold in a giggle.

“Well come on oppa! I know you’ve got way more stamina than that!” Nancy calls out from inside your bedroom.

You're stuck in place, with the water still running down your back, baffled at what you just heard.

“See oppa~ I told you she would like the text,” Ahin whispers before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and scooting around you to exit the shower. She grabs a dry towel off the rack and pats herself down before following Nancy into the bedroom.

Still trying to comprehend what just transpired, you still can’t move as all of your mental capacity is being diverted to understanding the situation you’re in. Your girlfriend asked her best friend to come over and stay with you until your birthday so she could surprise you with a threesome. Not only that, but she also told Ahin to tease you regularly, wanting you riled up for what was coming. Then, it hits you. There are two unbelievably attractive women waiting for you in your bedroom.

You cut the shower off and almost slip with how quickly you step out of the shower. Steadying yourself on the towel rack you grab a dry towel and run it across your body quickly before running through the doorway into your bedroom.

Both women lie on their sides and face one another, exposed fully for you on the bed. Their round plump asses stick out at you and reveal just how wet each of them are. Ahin has her hand on Nancy’s thigh caressing it up and down as the two of them look at you with eyes full of want and desire.

“Come on now. Don’t keep her waiting any longer,” Ahin giggles as you step towards your girlfriend.

As you put a knee on the bed and begin to lean over Nancy, she places a hand on your chest and looks you in the eyes.

“Uh uh. Lay down, you got to have your fun with Ahin and now I want to have my fun with you,” Nancy says pushing you back.

Something primal must've washed over her. When you lay back to let Nancy have control, she crawls over you and looks at you as something she needs to mark as her own. Watching you and Ahin for that brief moment in the shower made her desire grow further. 

Her thick thighs press against your legs when she straddles you. Nancy leans, down placing her hands beside your head. You watch her hair fall along the sides of her face as she moves in closer. Her breath is brief on your face before her soft lips make contact with yours. You instinctively push your head off the bed to deepen the kiss, while your hands find their way to the small of her back pulling her into you. 

Nancy quickly counters your movements in an attempt to maintain control by pushing her tongue into your mouth. The two muscles wrestle with one another, battling for dominance. Your hands slide down Nancy’s back till they reach her round, firm ass. You give it a solid squeeze once they make it there, earning a muffled moan from your girlfriend.

Sensing she is losing control, she pulls away from your kiss and gazes intently into your eyes while breathing heavily. She then sits upright on your lap and maneuvers one of her hands behind her and in between your leg grabbing your hard cock. 

Still slick with Ahin’s juices, your dick slides into Nancy’s tight pussy with ease as her muscles grip it firmly. You both let out moans and groans while she sinks down onto your cock letting it fill her up. You start to move your legs up so you can plant your feet into the mattress, but you’re stopped when Nancy takes your hands off of her ass and pins them above your head.

“Oh no no, you need to be punished for starting without me. It was supposed to be a surprise for tomorrow,” she says looking back at Ahin who is intently watching the two of you but then averts her gaze when Nancy leers at her, “but since that was spoiled I want to have some fun before you get to have yours.”

All you can do is nod at her request. Nancy then moves her hands to your chest as she raises up onto her feet to squat while making sure to keep your dick inside her.

“Don’t move those hands until I say so. Got it oppa,” Nancy says in an authoritative manner.

“Yes, Nancy.”

Nancy then picks her ass up off of you before slamming it back down, spearing your dick deep into her wet walls. A long moan followed by some quick breaths escape Nancy’s lips before she begins the process again. A steady bouncing rhythm starts to form as her tits bounce up and down with her movements. Your eyes dart from the contorted face of your girlfriend to her boobs to your glistening cock appearing and disappearing into the soaked cavern it so desires to be in.

All of Nancy’s focus seems to be on her maintaining her ability to continue bouncing on your cock, so when Ahin sneaks beside you she doesn't seem to notice or care. Ahin crawls behind your head and looks down at you smiling devilishly. She hangs one of her large boobs only an inch or so away from your mouth. Her head is over your chest looking down at you, while you struggle to maintain the promise of not moving for Nancy.

“Go on oppa. As long as you don’t move your hands until Nancy says, you can do whatever you want with them.”

You look back to Nancy whose head is completely arched back. She has returned to her previous position and now straddles you with her meaty thighs and continues to bounce herself on your dick. You quickly dart your head up and capture Ahin’s large, round breast in your mouth. Ahin obviously needed some sort of stimulation because as soon as you latched onto her nipple and your tongue began making erratic movements over it, she let out a pleasurable sigh.

“Mmmm that’s a good boy,” Ahin muses as you eagerly devour her sweet tasting skin.

You can hardly contain yourself from sitting still any longer and decide to help both women out. Planting your feet into the mattress you begin to thrust upwards into Nancy with reckless abandon. If Nancy can’t get a word out then she couldn’t scold you for moving when she told you not to. Nancy’s moans rise another octave as you relentlessly pound into her. You can tell she is getting extremely close to climaxing when her walls start to throb around your dick.

Before Ahin has a chance to say anything either, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her soft globes deeper onto your face. Not expecting it, Ahin is forced prone with her boobs squished against you, almost suffocating you. You wiggle your face into her cleavage where you kiss and lick at whatever skin your mouth can reach.

“So this is what you were warning me about Nancy?” Ahin asks giggling.

Nancy is now matching the timing of your thrusts with her own as her legs tighten around your waist. Her breathing has become so rapid and shallow you're surprised she isn't passing out.

"Cumming," airlessly exhales Nancy through gritted teeth.

She spreads her legs wide as they begin quivering. You slow your pace as you let the wave of gasps wash over you while Nancy's body is gyrating out. You try to keep your mind focused on not cumming yourself.

Nancy takes a moment to collect herself before lifting up off of your cock, which slaps wetly against your stomach as it exits Nancy. Ahin quickly lunges forward and takes it into her mouth, slurping hungrily at your cock covered with Nancy’s fresh juices.

“Fuuuuuucckkk,” is all you can manage to let out as she deepthroats your cock. Your hands run through your own hair as you continue to stave off the urge to cum again so quickly. Ahin’s tongue glides over every inch of your cock, wanting to taste as much of Nancy as she can. 

Breathing heavily, Nancy lays on her side beside you looking at you and your pained expression.

“You better be saving that load for me. If Ahin gets two before I get my first I may just completely drain you out tonight.”

The dirty talk Nancy adds on top of Ahin’s glorious mouth working on your cock does not make it any easier. Luckily for you, your girlfriend sees how hard you are trying to hold off and gives Ahin a firm slap on her ass.

“That’s enough you little slut. Give him a break.”

Ahin lets your dick out of her mouth with a little pop. “Aw, but hearing his moans was so much fun.”

“I think it’s time we let him have his fun with us,” Nancy says to her friend as she gets on her knees next to you, “Get off of him so he can stand up.” 

Nancy jokingly pushes Ahin off of you, sending her rolling on her side snickering.

“Alright oppa, go ahead and stand up at the foot of the bed.” Nancy says as she looks down at you.

You sit up and scootch your way to the edge of the bed before standing up and turning back around to face the women. They both look lustfully at your cast-iron cock standing proud covered in a mixture of Ahin’s saliva and Nancy’s juices while dripping with pre-cum. Without saying a word to one another, you watch as the two gorgeous women position themselves for you.

Ahin lays on her back with her feet over the edge of the bed, while Nancy crawls on top of her, straddling her waist and sticking her plump ass out at you. Nancy shakes her ass inviting you to join them. You approach the two of them and drop to one knee before affixing your face into Ahin’s wet folds and sticking your tongue out. Ahin lets a breathy moan out as you run your tongue upwards through her folds and then in one motion do the same to Nancy’s coaxing a similar moan from her. 

The two distinct tastes linger on your tongue as you raise back up and position your cock at Ahin’s pussy lips. With one thrust you hilt into Ahin making the girl’s head snap back against the bed when you hit her g-spot directly. A guttural moan rips out of her vocal cords as you begin to hammer away at her soaking pussy.

“Looks like he chose me first,” Ahin says between heavy breaths and moans, taunting Nancy.

“He just wants to make sure he finishes in me,” Nancy quickly snaps back.

Being so close already, you can’t stay inside of Ahin’s tight walls for very long. As you continue to thrust into Ahin you lean over Nancy’s back and whisper into her ear.

“The faster you make her cum, the faster I get to cum in you.” 

Nancy gets a sly smirk on her face before sliding her hand down Ahin’s tight stomach. As soon as she reaches her clit, Ahin looks at Nancy with wanton eyes when she nods her head and bites her bottom lip. You feel Nancy’s hand working on Ahin as you continue to bottom out into her with long, hard thrusts. Soon enough, Ahin’s velvet walls constrict around your cock as you struggle to thrust in and out. You watch her legs shake as she hits another climax tonight, this one seeming to hit her harder than the one in the shower had.

Slowing your pace, you let her orgasm ride itself out before you pull out of Ahin and immediately thrust into Nancy.

“Don’t hold back baby. Fucking tear that pussy up.”

Your hips take off in a bestial lust as you fuck your girlfriend. You place both of your hands on Nancy’s ass and spread it apart as you piston in and out of her. Her moans are like music to your ears. Mixed with the sounds of Ahin’s still heavy breathing, you can hardly contain yourself any longer.

You wrap your arms around her torso, pressing into her back. She turns her head and arches her neck back just enough for you to capture her lips and push your tongue in. Looking up at this hot scene, Ahin wants to get in on the action and latches onto one of Nancy’s perfect, round orbs.

Almost as soon as you release Nancy’s lips, your girlfriend pulls Ahin off of her tit and pushes her tongue into Ahin’s mouth. Ahin happily accepts it with a smile and continues to play with her friend’s boobs. 

Smirking, you unravel your arms from around Nancy and bring them to Ahin’s tits. They are jiggling slightly from the rocking your thrusts into Nancy’s tight cunt. You start by pinching her nipples and attain a second muffled moaning girl underneath you. Ahin’s face scrunches as both her and Nancy let out pleasured whines in between the breaths they take.

The slick walls of your girlfriend's pussy along with both girls’ muffled moans are enough to finally spell your end.

“I’m about to cum.” You say thrusting more erratically.

Nancy quickly pulls away from Ahin and looks back over her shoulder at you.

“Give it to me baby. Fill me up. I need it.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re buried as deep in as you can, and you tremble as your cock throbs, releasing a monumental load of sperm into Nancy. You put your face close to Nancy's and let out a breathy moan as she does likewise.

You stay intertwined with increasingly soft pulses coming from your sensitive dick. Eventually you pull out, all three of you collapsing on the bed.

Ahin and Nancy take their place beside you after you crawl to the middle of the bed. You lay an arm out for each of them and they both cuddle up to you as you pull them in close. 

“How was it oppa?” Nancy asks looking up at you.

“If this is what I get on the day before my birthday, I can’t wait to see what I get tomorrow.”

A/N - Hey everyone~ I’m finally back with a new piece! I hope you all have been well and enjoyed this oneshot that I started wayyyyy back in August before my account was all sorts of fucked up. I’m happy to say I’m back now and will hopefully be able to spend more time with you guys this upcoming semester. I want to give a huge shout out to @worldsover​ and @nsfwflint​ who really went ham when editing and fixed a LOT of my poor writing after being gone for so long. Like always feel free to leave any suggestions/thoughts/comments either below this post or in asks if you’d rather stay an anon. Thanks for reading and stay happy and healthy!

[mandoinevarro]

heyy so i heard you were taking suggestions???

i cant stop thinking about this modern au where din is a detective and reader is either another detective or a witness or something and they end up working a case together? maybe set in christmas for an extra creepy vibe? smut or not ill leave that to you, but youre one of my favorite writers and id love to read your take on this :)

hey anon, you heard right! i'm sorry that it took me a bit long to write this but i liked your idea and i wanted to get it right, so here it is. i changed a few things, but hopefully you'll still enjoy it.

Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: uhhhhhhhhhh T? M? i'll probably write more about this AU and if i'm being honest it'll most likely evolve into E—either way no minors

Warnings: well no smut so far but i have 0 self control so who knows what the future holds… anyway: crime, c*ps, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, missing people, mentions of drugs, and very unethical journalism :D

a/n: I realize that Horatio Mythrol is the dumbest name in the world but let's see you come up with a better one

Words: 4.8k

       TWELVE DRUMMERS DRUMMING

The early December drizzle fell like frozen needles on your cheeks. It dragged the lampposts’ light like smudged watercolor, creating a fuzzy orange halo around them, the only pigment outside of the black and grey spectrum. That and the yellow tape.

The sirens are off. Red and blue rotating lights are no longer necessary to alarm neighbors of possible dangers. This quiet suburban neighborhood in the outskirts of Nevarro has learnt to recognize the screeching tires of squad cars, the panicked murmuring of half-asleep officers and detectives.

Too cheesy. True-crime-podcast level of cheesy. Not that the Nevarro Bee was the pinnacle of investigative journalism and crime reporting, but the last thing you needed was to look like an amateur in your first assignment.

You hadn’t had time to give yourself a pep talk before the call came. It had jolted you awake, your screeching ringtone cutting through your slumber like oil in water, a rough voice that took you a couple of seconds to recognize: “Horatio Mythrol. 352 Cypress Street.” A pause. “You were right.” The line went dead.

Your stomach swirled with dread and sick excitement. With pride. Your hunch had been right.

The next call had been less ominous.

“I dunno, kid,” your editor slurred. You could hear the clicking of his typewriter, a leftover from his time as a stringer in the 80s. 2:50 a.m. and the old worker bee was still at the office. “You’re a rookie. This isn’t rookie work.”

“Come on, Fett, I got the tip.” All that time reporting on Little League games and interviewing the kaki-wearing winners of the Best Lawn Award had finally paid off. This was your one-way golden ticket out of covering county fairs—you’d rather stick your fingers below carnival bumper cars than writing another piece on the latest hot dog eating competition. “Fennec’s out covering that embezzlement thing in Corellia, who’re you gonna send? Calican?”

You heard him huff in time with a key jamming.

“Be serious.”

“I am.” You were already half dressed, stumbling from cold bedsheets to a colder bedroom with a leg half up your jeans. “I got the tip straight from the police department. From my source. I can do this.”

He typed to the rhythm of his ruminating. “You sure you wanna jump on the crime beat, kid? Cops can be assholes.”

“Can’t be worse than soccer moms.”

“Might be dangerous.”

“I’ve got pepper spray.”

It hadn’t been raining when you left your apartment. The jacket you’d worn for the cold, but you’d foregone the rain boots. You inevitably felt out of place in your stupid soaked sneakers, as you watched from a block away the warm, protective gear that cops and crime scene techs were clad in. A boulder settled deep in your stomach when you imagined yourself walking across the street with shaky hands and a notepad filled with more doodles than quotes—Baby’s First Crime Scene. The uniforms on scene would raise their snouts and smell it off you like brand-new plastic: a rookie, some amateur, a kid among the pros.

No. No, you could definitely handle this. You got the tip. For the time being, you were the first and only journalist on scene—even the nightcrawlers seemed to have missed this one—and this was your story. Christ, you could do this. Fett only asked for ten inches of copy and one quote from law enforcement. Piece of cake.

Your sneakers squeaked across the shining asphalt as you crossed the street, fingers trembling in your pockets from the cold and the anxiety. Nobody seemed to care much about your presence on the sidewalk. Officers circled around you, spoke codes into their radios, helped techs unload equipment. You were early. The chief of police wasn’t here yet, and neither were the detectives. Your source had been the first on scene—thanks to you, of course—so he’d kept his word, which you’d only half-expected.

A heavy-limbed officer ducks behind yellow tape with a black light in his arms. A crime scene technician in a white boiler suit carries a jug of luminol inside the luxurious 70s bungalow at the end of Cypress Street. Despite the fully-equipped van, the squad cars that keep rolling in by the second and the top-notch technology at the disposition of Nevarro PD, every uniform on scene carries the haunted look in their eyes of someone who’s been in this position one too many times. They know that luminol will not flare up white and neon inside this bungalow. They know that the only prints they’ll pick up will belong to the owner of the house, Horatio Mythrol, the man who is currently missing.

You walked until the yellow tape grazed your waist. Cops bumped into you, murmuring apologies or curses. Word was starting to get out, but not fast enough. The police station was a twenty-minute drive away from the crime scene. The uniforms that were already here had either been patrolling the area or running red lights. Or, of course, they’d already known what houses they needed to stake out—which was the case of your source. A man you couldn’t find anywhere among the hive of buzzing cops.

Shit. You needed that quote.

Flipping out your legal pad and asking random, grumpy cops for on-the-record quotes, pretty please, didn’t seem like the most sensitive plan of action.

This is the fourth disappearance in less than two months. The Nevarran upper-class neighborhood that has been rocked by what some call a crime wave (nobody really calls it that—most women in the line at the grocery shop insist it’s a serial killer) already shows signs of the fear settling into its inhabitants. Tall fences have been built, CCTV cameras blink red at passersby, some front doors have ditched Christmas crowns and mistletoe for triple locks. And yet, Nevarro PD insists the cases are not related. The public isn’t so sure. (The public, aka, you.) Last week during a press conference (that you hadn’t been allowed to attend) Chief—

“You, with the sneakers,” someone barked behind you.

It made you jump. It made your ears and neck warm because goddamnit you had to wear those fucking sneakers. Mostly, it made you want to trade places with Horatio Mythrol when you turned to find an officer in full uniform scowling at you, and you said the single stupidest thing you could: “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” The cop’s arms were crossed, highlighting the nametag on her left side that read Reeves and the badge on her right side that said Captain. “You live here?”

“Um, no.”

“You see anything?”

“No, I’m…” You knew it was a mistake before you said it. “I’m press.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? What, you want a quote?” Captain Reeves stepped towards you, you stepped back until your waist bended the yellow tape. Somehow, you didn’t think saying yes and pulling out your pen and legal pad would do you any good. “Well, here’s your quote, Press: The last thing we need in an active crime scene is a glorified web sleuth getting in our way and distracting officers. We have this under control.” She paused for a second to let it sink in. It did. “Beat it.”

And beat it you did.

Sort of.

You wore your best wimp face and scurried away like a scared little mouse running away from the Big Bad Wolf, an act you knew cops soaked up as their daily shot of god complex. You were only half-acting. Reeves’ coal eyes burned into you all the way to the end of the street, where tall cypresses prevented passersby from plunging into the river below. It was only after you spotted her telltale cop smirk and she turned around, that you took cover behind the cypresses to trek back to the house with what you knew was a shit-eating grin.

If one believed town gossip—and you certainly did—Captain Koska Reeves had a reputation for bending civil rights as far back as she did suspects’ arms: guilty ‘til proven innocent, anything you say I’ll paraphrase to my liking, if you cannot afford you ain’t getting one. Anyone with a brain would’ve marched straight back home—that is, anyone who didn’t know that Miss Congeniality here didn’t have the upper hand for once. Fourth disappearance in less than two months and Nevarro PD had a whole bunch of nothing, not a single print or drop of blood or speck of semen to waive around as a white flag. You saw it during the press conferences, when they babbled about unreleased information and an abundance of physical evidence. Bullshit. Reeves’ eyes had sunk deep into their pockets under the weight of all that imaginary evidence, under the Chief’s pressure and the Mayor’s boot. They couldn’t afford to fuck up, so she was playing this one close to the chest—if you had to guess, you’d say she was only calling in the police officers she trusted the most—the ones who were only mildly dirty— which is why, when you reached the back of the bungalow, there wasn’t a single one in sight.

Back in the 70s Nevarro was a hot hippie hub, believe it or not. This was before the real estate whales and big developers from Corellia moved in and ran anybody with sandals and bloodshot eyes out of town before they could say “fascist.” But Horatio Mythrol seemed to hold on to the summer of love, judging by the dream catcher hanging by the porch and the bright green conversation pit in the middle of his living room that you caught a glimpse of when you snuck to the bungalow’s backyard.

One thing about these authentic midcentury modern houses: the fences are never tall.

Still, not an easy climb. With the rain-slicked fence and the sneakers that you were definitely burning after this, you slipped and fell like a sack of potatoes into the backyard, crashing butt-first into a charming little allotment of what smelled like weed. Jesus Christ.

Moron Journalist Arrested for B&E, Tampering with Evidence

So when you rolled off onto the mushy lawn and peered at the property damage you’d caused, you thought you were imagining it. A flash of silver blinking at you from between the spiky marijuana leaves, it could only be an hallucination caused by your fall—but when you reached a hand inside the orchard and closed your fist around the glint, it materialized. Cold, ragged and metallic: a key.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The scratchy voice fell on your shoulders like a piano in a cartoon. You jumped a couple of feet into the air and scrambled on your hands and knees, limbs shaking like industrial drills, searching in the dark for the source of the commanding voice that could only belong to a battle-worn detective or a serial killer or God. Either way, you were fucked.

A dark shadow stood above you, ominous like a closing shot of The Twilight Zone. You were dizzy from the fall and the adrenaline, blinking against the darkness to try and gauge the outlines. Tall male, broad shoulders, hands stuffed inside the pockets of a trench coat. Face darkened by the leaves of a sycamore above him. If the cold-induced mist coming out of his mouth had been cigarette smoke, he would’ve been a picture-perfect noir detective, the cover of a pulp paperback.

Mystery Man slowly removed a hand from his trench coat’s pocket. Your heart picked up its galloping, you thought you smelled blood. Your eyes were stuck on the pocket, racing with possibilities: handcuffs, a gun, Horatio Mythrol’s severed hand. No, just—a hand. His own hand. Extended towards you, palm up, like he was approaching a scared dog who needed to sniff his fingers before trusting the well-meaning stranger. It took you a moment to realize he was offering to help you up.

Probably not a serial killer, then. You lifted your right fist an inch, before you remembered the cold weight of the key, and extend your left hand instead. He grabbed you by the elbow and hurled you to your feet until your nose was a fist’s length away from his chest. He smelled like soap and rain and baby powder. You hoped he wasn’t some pervert.

“What are you doing here?” The voice was familiar. Not acquaintance-familiar, not like a neighbor or a friend. Backdrop-familiar. As if you’d heard it before in a crowded mall.

“I just…” Warning signs with Captain Reeves’ face flashed in your head. You stuffed your hands into your jacket, feigning a little shiver, dropping the key into your pocket. “I saw the squad cars and the tape.” Not a lie, a petulant little voice supplied inside you, as if you weren’t already on thin ice, I did see them.

“You live in the neighborhood?”

You knew you were walking the tight rope of what constituted honest-to-god, Pulitzer-worthy reporting. Below, the murky swamp waters of unethical journalism bubbled and invited you to fall over.

“I’m not far off.” Ten minutes wasn’t far.

“Right.” The voice gave nothing away, steady as a monitor flatlining. You couldn’t tell if he believed you.

“Are you…” Careful treading here. “Are you a detective on the case?”

You still couldn’t see his eyes, but you felt them on yours. On your shoulders, your arms, your entire face, unlike him, you didn’t have a sycamore to shield you from the moonlight. “Something like that.”

That was your cue to be a good little journo and reveal that you were press and hope you weren’t kicked out for the second time. But you had already ignored an officer’s orders, breached into private property, stepped into a crime scene. Most importantly, this man was law enforcement, and you still needed that quote. Dipping your toes in that murky water couldn’t do that much harm.

“Did…did something happen to Horatio?” You called this act Scared Neighbor. You even managed a little stutter and a shiver.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out, ma’am.” You caught a glimpse of his chin when a sliver of moonlight trickled through the sycamore leaves. Patchy stubble, strong jaw.

Trying to find out. Just like you thought, another crime scene where they would get jack shit. A couple of months weren’t nearly enough to declare that a case had gone cold—not even lukewarm—and yet your source was positive that this one would never be solved. The way he’d vaguely described it, the other houses looked like your run-of-the-mill suburban burglary: upturned mattresses, open drawers, slashed cushions. But a burglary didn’t explain the missing home-owners.

It didn’t help that nearly all cops in the department were busy protecting their sponsors. Good old Nevarro PD was a delightful bottomless pit of filth—they wouldn’t give anyone a parking ticket without triple-checking that they didn’t work for someone they worked for. Looking up at the shadow in front of you, you wondered who filled his pockets.

If the detective’s grasp on your arm hadn’t tightened, you would’ve thought he’d turned to stone. Whatever. He was welcome to think he was comforting Suburban Damsel in Distress as long as he gave you the information you were fishing for.

“Oh, I hope he’s okay,” you murmured in your best Snow White voice. “I…I heard about the other cases and… You don’t think it’s connected to those, do you?”

For a second, you saw the glint of his teeth. A tiny grin or a brief snarl. “Why were you awake?”

The commotion in the front porch was getting louder, more squad cars’ tires were screeching on the asphalt, your brain was going ninety an hour. “What?”

“You said you saw the squad cars. Not hear them.” His voice sounded amused—not in a friendly way, not inviting you in on the joke. You figured he was more used to playing Bad Cop. “They didn’t wake you up. So why were you already awake, looking out the street at three a.m. if—”

Someone flicked a switch inside the bungalow, and the sliding doors came to life, flooding the backyard in bright yellow light. The hand on your elbow pulled hard, guiding you to take cover behind the sycamore and dropping to the wet grass, bellies to the ground, guerrilla style. Uniforms and boiler suits poured into the mint green living room splashed with bright orange cushions and psychedelic carpets on the walls that could only be described as “groovy.” A Ouija board in the middle of the conversation pit. Had the spirits had the chance to warn Horatio of his untimely disappearance?

The detective’s breathing was hot on your ear and strangely comforting. His shoulder against yours, his heart racing as fast as yours, both of you staring holes at the sliding doors, trying to catch some irregularity, something they’d missed on the last crime scene, anything that would make this case make sense.

You were close enough to the sliding doors to count the hairs on the officers’ heads; and they were close enough to count yours, if any of them spared a glance at the backyard. You scooted closer to the sycamore’s trunk.

The place looked trashed enough for a burglary, all right. Stabbed cushions with their cottony insides spilling to the floor, open drawers with their contents scattered, an upturned table that seemed too short and sturdy to naturally tumble to the side. Your proto mattress was also disheveled enough to fit the style of the rest of the property. What you’d thought was a small personal allotment of cannabis for Horatio’s nostalgia nights turned out to be a plot that ran all the way past the sycamore, close enough to the fence that it wouldn’t be seen by outsiders.

“Huh.”

The detective’s shadow of a head turned to look at you. “What?”

You pointed a finger at the patch. “Didn’t take the weed.”

The patch where you’d fallen was the only part of the culture that looked disturbed; the rest of the plants were tall and perky, surprisingly green and purple for the winter, and most had already flowered. Any self-respecting burglar would’ve known that cash and drugs were the easiest goods to move—no middle man, and they change hands fast enough that in a few days they’d be untraceable.

The detective remained quiet for a long second, and you were starting to wonder if you’d have to explain what you meant when he whispered, “Maybe the burglar doesn’t smoke. Or wouldn’t know where to sell it.”

You managed a quiet snort. “In this town? Toddlers here can roll blunts.”

He was quiet for a longer moment, trying on your theory like a glove, flexing his knuckles to see if it fit. “You could be right.”

You barely had time soak up the pride when the commotion outside became tomb-quiet, snatched from the root. Seconds later, an officer marched into the living room: redhead, girl boss haircut, giving every tech and cop in the living room a foul look, as if they’d all fucked up already just by existing and were in for it. None of the cops met her eye.

“Chief Bonnie looks better on TV,” you whispered.

A sharp exhale, probably his version of a laugh. “If she ever hears you call her that she’ll plant coke in your car.” The woman took slow steps around the living room; everything she saw made her eyebrows furrow deeper. “Stick to ‘Chief Kryze.’”

You grinned. “What do family and friends call her?”

“‘Chief Bo.’”

You could’ve laughed, if Chief Kryze hadn’t turned to the sliding doors. You swallowed it down and tried to sink into the muddy earth. The chief of police opened the door, stepped into the grass, made a sour face at the allotment of weed where you’d landed. The detective had gone stone-still, his breathing imperceptible, and then it hit you—if he was a detective, why was he hiding?

Chief Kryze’s combat boots crushed the grass, her gaze made the air on the backyard collapse. She approached the sycamore, stared up at its branches or the moon or the heavens. You didn’t know if you should run from her or from the stranger beside you. With a hard sigh, she turned back to the bungalow, leaving you half-relieved and half-paralyzed with fear. You still needed to get away from this man, whoever the fuck he was.

You slowly tried to get on your feet but—of course, of fucking course—your sneaker squeaked like rubber ducks.

Chief Kryze’s head whirled back like whip, she snatched the flashlight from her hip and shone it right at your faces.

“Get up!” she barked, approaching you in long strides. You stood on noodle legs, ears buzzing, squinting at the light. “Get the fuck up and—!” Two long strides and she was almost chest-to-chest with the stranger. You were trying to block out the flashlight’s glare with a hand when her voice turned low and bitter, only a step above a growl and a badge above a punch: “Djarin.”

The flashlight clicked off. You blinked against the dark spots in your vision that it left behind, big enough to cover most of the chief of police’s face, but not dark enough to black out the fiery rage in her eyes.

“Good to see you, Bo.”

“I swear to God, Djarin,” Chief Kryze spat in a harsh whisper. “I swear to fucking God that if you have anything to do with this case, I’ll—”

“You think I kidnapped Horatio? What, for kicks?”

“I wouldn’t put it above you. Lots of people in this town wouldn’t.” He promptly shut up after that—it hit a nerve. And Chief Kryze knew it, judging by the long, triumphant gulp of December air she took and the lazy tilt of her head.

She strapped her flashlight back to her hip and said in her confident TV voice, “Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass if you did it or not. Actually, I’d love it if you had, that way I could slap a pair of handcuffs on you and throw you in gen pop, so don’t tempt me, Djarin. If I ever catch you at one of my crime scenes again, or at the station, or anywhere where I can fucking smell you, I’ll have a couple of uniforms stock your apartment full of hippie shit with Horatio’s fingerprints all over them, and sprinkle a bit of his hair there too, so I can be sure it sticks. I don’t have to tell you where that special someone you’ve got at home would be spending Christmas—I hear you’re well acquainted with that place, too.”

She closed her speech with a short exhale and a winning grin that, even in the dark, you could tell contained no joy—it was all teeth. Her eyes fell on you for the first time, looked you up and down, quirked an eyebrow. “You brought a date?”

“Came here all by herself.” Still his steady, low voice, rough like pavement; it tickled your spine. If not for the next thing he said, you would’ve liked the sensation: “She’s press. Nevarro Bee, right?”

The tickle became a sting, like an icicle lodged between your vertebrae.

You were gonna be sick. “I… I mean…”

“Unless you want your speech word for word on tomorrow’s front page, Kryze, I suggest we both forget about tonight. We both know Fett won’t think twice about printing it.”

Bonnie Katan-Kryze grabbed your wrist and yanked your paralyzed self towards the light spilling from the sliding doors. She gave you a look that matched the weather, a snarl pulling at her lip, her nostrils flaring. She was memorizing your face.

When you looked back at the sycamore, the man’s shadow was gone. Fuck him. Whoever that man was—pervert or detective or serial killer—, fuck him. He threw you like bait and scurried away to save his own ass.

“Unless you’re fucking brain dead,” Chief Kryze said slowly, as if she were, in fact, talking to an idiot, “I don’t think I have to tell you what will happen if you even think about printing anything you heard tonight.” Her fingernails dug into your wrist. “Because if you think that your little friend back there had it bad, you have no idea—”

The sliding doors opened a crack.

“Hey, Chief.” This time, you knew exactly whose voice that was.

“What?”

“Better take a look at this.”

Chief Kryze rolled her eyes and turned to the officer, ready to tell him to fuck off, when she let go of your wrist. The officer was holding the Ouija board. It was made of a dark wood that looked expensive, decorated with intricate arabesques, pentagrams, a siren. The letters were carved rather than drawn—and blood filled letters N to Z, numbers 1 to 0 and the “Goodbye” sign at the bottom.

Kryze dug a pair of latex gloves out of her pocket. Her hands were shaking when she put them on. “Mayfeld,” she said, as she carefully took the board from him. “Escort this woman off the crime scene. Frisk her for a note pad or a recorder. Take her name and address.”

Chief Kryze stepped into the living room looking ten years older; Officer Mayfeld stepped out looking like he was trying real hard not to give you a black eye. You followed him to the back of the yard, where you could see the river shining black. He opened a gate on the corner of the property and shoved you into the empty lot next to Horatio Mythrol’s house. You almost crashed face-first into an idle scissor lift. Fuck knows what they were building in there.

“So,” he says behind you, clasping his hands together, “did you hit your fucking head or something?”

Now that danger wasn’t imminent and the adrenaline had crashed, you wanted to sleep for three days. You were cold, tired and dirty with mud where that fucker had made you lay down on the ground. The last thing you were in the mood for was Mayfeld’s lecture. “Give me a break.”

“No, I’m serious. You need me to call you an ambulance, sweetheart? Because I don’t understand how anyone without brain injury would walk into a fucking crime scene—into Chief Kryze’s fucking crime scene—and get caught!” Under the moonlight, Migs Mayfeld looked paler than a ghost—a ghost about to get audited, pacing back and forth, rubbing a palm on his head. “You got any idea what you’re playing at? Huh? Why don’t you just print my face on the front page next time and call me a snitch?”

“Relax, nobody noticed I even knew you, let alone that you’re my source.”

“Source? I’m not your fucking source. I called you this once as—as a professional courtesy—”

“—because I did your fucking job for you. You would’ve never been first on scene to collect your Good Boy Badge if I hadn’t told you—”

“—I called you so you could write the story before any newspaper, not so you could come skipping with your goddamn notepad to play detective and network with the crowd. Who was that on the backyard, anyway? The guy Chief Kryze was talking to?”

He stopped pacing, breathing hard, but suddenly calm, his tone gentler. Piece of work, Mayfeld was. He could be booking you for murder and he’d still try to figure out a way to be buddies if it benefitted him.

You kicked a pebble. “Don’t know. Chief Kryze called him ‘Djarin.’”

Migs Mayfeld stared at you like you were Horatio Mythrol’s ghost making a peace sign. He didn’t blink for a full minute and then murmured, “Jesus H Christ.”

That got your heart racing again. “What?” You pictured Most Wanted lists, local prowlers, ex-cons. You’d been checking those lists since you started digging into this case, but you hadn’t been able to see the man’s face; you wouldn’t have recognized him either way. “Is he a suspect?” You thought of his hot breath on your ear, so close to each other.

Migs shook his head. “Christ, you really are new at this.” You gave him a blank stare until he exhaled the last of his patience. “Din Djarin? Private detective Din Djarin? Public-fucking-enemy number one to every cop in this town? Solved the Tusken Murders last year and made Chief Kryze look like a moron? Ring a bell?”

A chilly gust of wind came blowing from the south. Mayfeld trembled like a leaf, his teeth rattled like bones. He couldn’t stop shaking his head.

“If Din Djarin’s got his head in this case, it means we really are fucked,” he murmured, pacing again. “Happy fucking holidays to me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: not sure?? who to tag??? i don't know any taglist etiquette + i know a lot of you were in for rmrb, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you wanto to be removed or if you only want to be tagged in Rule Maker, Rule Breaker stuff

@rosetophighlander​ @hellomothermoon @newyorksins​ @leo-moon @benedrylcumbersnatch @corrupt-fvcker @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @multifandomlife22 @justanotherblonde23 @abysshaven @equalstrashflavoredtrash @16boyfriends-and-me @ihaveashield @dinispunk @bananaagurl @mstgsmy @absurdthirst @cowboy-kylo @roxypeanut @heyitmelexie @readsalot73 @krazykatkay456 @elusive-danger-noodle @ofstardustandbone @nikkiparthena @lifeisapitch15 @teaofpeach @auty-ren @anewrule @hyp-oh-critical​ @pascaliprincess​ @geannad​ @coaaster​ @frietiemeloen​ @yourbucky084​ @brynnstudies​ @elfwoodfae​ @ms-fatally-yours @hansonveggieclub @artsymaddie @the-scandalorian @tilltheendwilliwrite @anewrule @hyp-oh-critical @pascaliprincess @f4llingfairy @shestillwrites1 @itsjustaphase8 @lackofhonor @geannad @sofithewitch @sfr99 @thatonedindjarinfan @yooforia @dar-manda-rjct @starsfordays @usualsworld @greeneyedblondie44 @the-importance-of-being-sasuke @promiscuoussatan @carbonite-cruncher @speideysimpossiblegirl @fangirl-316 @multifandom-superlover @sirianisrock @hdlynn @hellabaybee @lellowberry @thevoiceinyourheadx @dins-helmet @cowboy-kylo @coaaster @djarrex @ms-fatally-yours

[cyoc49]

HIMBO Magazine: Changing Departments

*click! click! click! click!*

Derek listened to the camera flash as he sat on the side of the bed. He was currently doing a photo shoot for HIMBO magazine, a fashion and lifestyle magazine “for the modern gay male™”. Fake blood dripped against his chest - they were doing some Halloween type of shoot. But let’s be honest, the blood wasn’t the focus of the shot: it was his body. Derek had never been the best student - and his attitude certainly didn’t help - but if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was make his body look as sexy as humanly possible. Derek scoured nutrition blogs to make sure he stayed up to date on everything related to fitness, and the dedication showed itself in his beautiful, sculpted body. Sitting here with no shirt on and wearing a pair of lethally tight skinny jeans, he looked like every gay man’s wet dream. To put it simply, Derek was hot as hell; problem is, he knew he was hot at hell.

“Alright, that’s good. I think we have what we need, thank you Mr. Hale” the director said. Derek stood up and two twinkish looking assistants came over to remove the blood. Derek stood still and tried to ignore the two obviously gay men putting their hands all over his body. Derek was the kind of guy who thought all gay men were jumping at the bit for any man they can find. Doing a photo shoot for a gay magazine was certainly not his dream, but hey: a paycheck is a paycheck.

After he was cleaned off, Derek put on a t shirt and enjoyed the feeing of it stretched tight against his pecs. He slung a Louis Vuitton backpack over his shoulders. All he had to do was collect his check and he could be done with this homo magazine. Derek headed towards the doorway connecting the studio space to the rest of the offices. He turned the corner into the hallway, only to immediately crash into someone coming from the opposite direction. Papers went flying.

Derek hesitated, then reluctantly crouched down to help the man pick up his papers. As he did, the man spoke to him in a deep voice “You know, you should really watch where you’re going. People are busy around here.”

This was the remark that set Derek off. It was enough that he had done a photo shoot outside his comfort zone, and ran into someone while he was leaving, but now he was being sassed by some worker who couldn’t slow down enough to watch out for passers. Derek had had enough of this magazine. “You know,” he said, “I’m surprised. I thought you fags would be more excited to slam into other guys.”

Derek could sense the shift in mood immediately. All the workers around him who had been buzzing about immediately stopped and looked at th scene. The office had gone dead silent. As Derek looked around at all the men staring at them, the man he had bumped into finished collecting his papers and stood up, allowing Derek to finally look at him properly. Woah, this was a fine looking man. Strappingly tall and ruggedly handsome. He filled out his expensive-looking three-piece suit perfectly. His whole demeanor was one of absolute confidence. Finally, Derek realized what had happened. He hadn’t bumped into some random employee. He had knocked over and subsequently cussed out the boss of the whole place.

*Well*, Derek said to himself, *I fucked up bad this time*.

The boss was surprisingly well-composed for someone who had just been called a slur, Derek thought. As if to prove this point, the boss suddenly started laughing. It was a good, deep laugh. And when he laughed, everyone else in the building laughed along with him. Derek stared at everyone in the office in confusion. Why did they find this so funny? Was it because he’s their boss? And they were all looking at the boss with such admiration. Derek just hoped this meant the issue would blow over and he could leave before embarrassing himself sooner.

But before he could step away, he was spoken to. “I used to get really angry when people said stuff like that to me,” the boss explained in a rich, inviting voice, “now it just makes me sad, because I see all the failed potential hiding behind that language.”

Derek took a little offense to that last statement, but he knew he was in no position to argue right now. It seemed like the laughter was the all-clear the rest of the office needed to know their boss was okay, because the normal hum of voices and keyboards had returned. Now it was just him and the extremely powerful man he had pissed off. Derek broke the silence. “Look, Mr...”

“Christian Le Maítre” the gorgeous boss informed him, “Editor in Chief of HIMBO magazine. But everyone around here just calls me Mr. M.”

“Right. Well, uh, Mr. M, I’m really sorry about-“

“No you’re not.” Christian cut him off without missing a beat. “I’ve seen so many models like you come and go through these halls. You think you’re hot shit, and take pity on all of my boys in this office who had to take desk jobs because their bodies weren’t nice enough to let them get by on looks alone. But you know, we’re hard workers here. And we’re a close knit family.”

Derek objected to being interrupted, but as Christian talked, he felt his defenses melt away with every word. Mr. M was right, Derek realized. I am a narcissistic asshole who holds myself above others. He had never felt like this before. But everything Mr. M said just seemed right. When this gorgeous, confident man spoke, Derek realized he was speaking the truth.

“What’s your name, son?” Mr. M asked him.

“D-Derek, sir. Derek Hale.” Derek was never one stutter, but how else could he feel right now?

“Well Derek, I’m sure our lame little office doesn’t fit your macho man swagger persona, but I think you’d find that working here is pretty great.”

Was that an offer? Derek didn’t know. He had completely forgotten the context of their conversation, and indeed his reason for being in this office in the first place was slowly becoming a distant memory. All Derek knew in this moment was that he HAD to work at HIMBO. In fact, he couldn’t imagine life without working here.

Derek tried to compose a response, but was increasingly timid in the presence of this incredible man. “Well, uh, Mr. M. Perhaps if you have any opening I might be able to, uh-”

Mr. M just laughed again, and this time Derek laughed right along with him.

“Well I’m shocked to hear you change your tune so quickly, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Working here is kind of a dream job, if I do say so myself. But there’s no need to submit your CV and go through the traditional channels. I am actually prepared to offer you a job on the spot.”

Derek felt his ears burning. How lucky was he! To be offered a job at the best company on earth. He would take it immediately!

“Mr. M, it would be an honor to work for you” Derek bowed his head as he said this. Respect was important, especially for the man who was giving him a job no questions asked.

“Glad to hear it, sport! Now full disclosure, it’s a clerking position. I know, not the most exciting stuff, but here at HIMBO we believe even the most mundane work can be made magical! Of course, you would have to change a few of your behaviors to *best* fit the position. Your ego, your hot-headedness. Do you think those are things good for a clerk to have?”

“No, sir” Derek said with convocation. “Anything you want me to change, I will change.”

Christian cracked a smile, as if Derek had said something unintentionally funny. “Well I admire your commitment. It’s just, clerks are so straight-laced and serious, and you are such a character, Derek. Mr. Macho Man with a great body. Actually, I do like this body.” Christian looked Derek up and down, “I think that can stay. But as for everything else, well, I can take care of that.”

Christian stopped talking and instead just looked at Derek. The hopeful employee stood there silently, unsure of what to do. Just then, he suddenly felt a draining feeling. It wasn’t his muscles or his IQ or any of that stuff that he felt fading away, it was more like he was losing... his personality? All the pride Derek felt over his hot body and great life was disappearing. All the anger he get towards people not like him, slipping away. But it wasn’t replaced by new emotions, it wasn’t replaced by anything. Derek stopped feeling strong feelings about much of anything. He liked his job, he followed the news, but he had never had any opinions of his own. Never tried to be individual or stand out. Derek was becoming like his new favorite flavor of ice cream: vanilla.

As Derek’s personality slowly morphed him into a contender for the World’s Most Dull Man, his wardrobe changed to follow suit. His designer t shirt loosened out a bit. The sleeves grew down his arms before spouting buttons and cuffs. Buttons also sprouted down the middle, and the shirt gained a collar, becoming a basic button-up shirt. A white plaid pattern spread across the shir. At the same time, Derek felt his skinny jeans go “pah” as all the tightness shrugged out of them, changing them into (gag) regular fit pants. They lightened to gray and changed material to thin cotton, becoming work slacks. His new plaid shirt automatically tucked itself into the pants, and a brown leather belt formed around his waist, with his expensive designer sneakers morphing into brown leather dress shoes to match. The LV backpack he wore fell as one of the straps broke off, before disappearing altogether. The remaining strap lengthened and slung itself over his shoulder, and the bag itself shifted into a basic messenger bag, holding plenty of important documents and paperwork.

For a brief moment, Derek felt confusion and fear. Why were these changes happening to him? Where did his nice stuff go, and what were these boring-ass clothes replacing them? These thoughts only lasted for half a second, before Derek realized how right this was. This was his style, or more accurately his *lack* of style. Derek had never cared about trends, or getting fancy new clothes. As long as they fit him well and looked professional enough for work, that was all that mattered in Derek’s eyes. A Ross Membership Card popped into his wallet to cement this change.

Derek felt something in his pocket, and pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. These were the glasses he needed to see, of course. Derek opened them up and put them on. To follow suit, his hair parted itself to the side and became thick with gel holding his new professional haircut in place.

As promised, Christian had left Derek his body, but had taken basically everything else from him. Where there had once stood an arrogant, trendy mode, there was now a walking turtleneck. Normally in cases like this, Derek would sprout new memories of his new life. But no memories came, because Derek didn’t really *have* a life. He was now a total office drone. From 9-5 he worked faithfully for HIMBO, and after that he went home and solved jigsaw puzzles until it was time for bed... except on the nights where Mr. M invited Derek to his house. Derek truly wanted nothing more from life.

Christian smiled at the new corporate boy that stood before him. “Okay I think you’ve handled the onboarding process well, Dirk. Dirk, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir.” Dirk replied matter of factly. Dirk Kent. Filing clerk for HIMBO magazine.

“Great! But there’s actually one more thing I need from you. I’m still a little raw about that comment of yours earlier, and I would hate for it to taint our working relationship with each other, so allow me to bury this hatchet.”

Christian snapped his fingers, and Dirk felt his impressive manhood shrink, and shrink, and shrink, until he heard a “pop!” sound and knew that it was no more. Poor Dirk was smooth as could be in his private areas. But he didn’t mind: being unable to orgasm helped him focus on his work. And besides, if Mr. M needed help Dirk still had two perfectly serviceable holes on him.

Christian laughed again, eliciting another laugh from Dirk. “Dirk, pal, I don’t think I have ever been happier with one of my new hires. But you know, I do seal my deals with a kiss.”

“Why thank you sir!” Dirk replied with enthusiasm, as he allowed Christian to walk over, turn up his chin, and plant a kiss on his lips. And it was the greatest kiss Dirk had ever felt. Indeed, it was the only kiss he had ever felt, but as far as kisses go it was still pretty spectacular. As Dirk stood there with his lips pressed against those of his incredivle boss, he knew there was nothing more he would want from life.

As they parted, Derek looked hopefully up at his boss “Where should I start with my work, sir?” He lived to work.

Christian smiled again. “I’ll film you in on that in a minute, but let me take you to your desk. You’ll be down in the accounting department. In fact, I think you’ll be desk neighbors with our other new hire Bartholomew! You’ll love him. A total nerd but a sweet kid regardless.” Without warning, Christian turned and walked down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything. Dirk instinctively followed him, just as he instinctively obeyed every command Mr. M gave him. Life was easier that way.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

SURPRISE VALENTINE’S DAY UPDATE!

PART FIVE

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: flirting, alcohol, mentions of smoking  Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: This chapter is so cute to me. Pajama party anyone?  As always, thanks to the actual best editor alive today, @lantern-inthenight​ 

MASTER POST

taglist: @valleyd0ll​ @satingrass-maidensfair​ @guitarfingers​ @thebohemianpenguin​ @peaceisouranthem​ @oblvions​ @hansonobsessed​

@bigblack-catattack​ @myownparadise96​ @lara-gvf​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​

It was undeniable that winter was on its way. The weekend brought predictions for temps in the lower 40’s and, even in the warmth of the apartment, you felt perpetually chilled.

Kate had messaged you late on Friday asking if you wanted to get coffee Saturday morning, and you had excitedly agreed to meet her at the local cafe called The Daily Grind (which, admittedly, you chose because of the cute name).

She had seen you bundled up like a burrito in two sweatshirts and a long-sleeved tee underneath and laughed, but you explained to her how you had never really been in temps this cold before.

Your fingers were wrapped as tight as they could go around your mocha as you watched her sip her black coffee, her maroon-painted lips leaving a mark on the white mug.

“When we’re done here, would you want to go with me to a thrift store? My mom sent some money for me to buy warmer clothes when she saw the weather for this area,” you said with an excited tone. “She’s afraid I’m going to get pneumonia.”

She hummed in an interested tone. “That sounds like fun. Which one do you wanna check out first?”

“You’ve been around here longer, so I’ll let you pick.”

“The one on Maple is the one where all the rich sorority girls go, so I bet you’d find some good stuff there,” she informed, tapping her nails against the ceramic.

You beamed a smile, relishing in the sunny feeling that only spending time with other girls gave you. “You wanna drive or me?”

+++

“Do you think if I buy a pair of jeans a size too big I could get away with wearing leggings under them?” you asked, flicking through the hangers. “I feel like the wind here cuts right through my denim.”

“Maybe two sizes bigger so you can wear sweatpants.” You knew she was teasing you by her playful tone, but that was actually kind of brilliant, you thought. “You should try this one.”

You had to get onto your tippy toes to see her over the long rack. She was holding up a soft-looking sweater, multicolored horizontal stripes running across the fabric. The color pattern reminded you of Twiggy from the ’60s.

“It’s cute,” you agreed, taking it as she handed it to you. By the time you were ready for a fitting room, you had a pile of things and the employee on duty looked not very excited to have to put them back when you were done, but luckily she wouldn’t have to. Pretty much everything fit perfectly.

You were shocked to see the total - where you were from, all of that would have been well over $60, even second hand, but you ended up forking over a measly $35, and you figured most of that total was from the nearly new jacket you had found.

As she was driving you back to the coffee shop, you exclaimed giddily, “I’m so excited to have warm clothes. Now Josh can finally have his sweatshirts back.”

She looked over at you surprisedly. “That’s Josh’s?”

“Yeah, he gave me three and I’ve been alternating between them.” You reached forward to turn her radio up a notch, Janet Jackson’s “All For You” perking your ears.

“Are you sure he wants them back?” she asked, giving you a coy smile that you didn’t understand.

You adopted a puzzled look. If she was alluding to something, it was lost on you. “Why wouldn’t he? They’re still perfectly fine - I was even careful not to get my perfume on them.”

Now stopped at a red light, she turned to give you a squinty look until she seemed to realize you were serious. “Nevermind,” she relented, smirking forward at the road.

When you got back home, Josh was gone. You shot him a message inquiring as to his whereabouts and started snipping the tags off of your new clothes with a pair of pruning shears. You were exponentially grateful for the fact that the washing machine in your building had been repaired - and with a shocking amount of haste too.

The smell of the laundry room down the hall was pleasant. It reminded you of the times when your mom would wash all the towels and blankets in the house, and that was a job that either required a laundromat, or an entire day switching loads.

At the end of your shopping day, you made out with three new sweaters, two pairs of thicker jeans, a new coat, a winter hat, and an actual pajama set, which would be infinitely warmer than the shorts and tank top you’d moved in with.

You cheerily popped your new clothes into the washer, along with a tide pod, some of your bras and underwear, and closed the lid.

Around 1 pm, Josh still wasn’t back and hadn’t replied, so you decided it was a perfect time to work on some self-care. The yoga mat you had packed had yet to see the light of day in Michigan, so you dug it out, unrolled it in your room, changed into some easy clothing, and pulled up a beginner’s tutorial on your phone. By the thirty-minute mark, you were sweating and tired, but the stretch in your muscles was oddly pleasant on top of the discomfort, so you pushed yourself to keep going until the video was done. The cute blonde running the tutorial suggested you take some time in your cool down to look inward, as she thought that was a big part of yoga. So, you laid there on the mat, staring up at your ceiling for a good, long while, just taking time to reflect and enjoying it.

Your room, and the whole apartment really, had become home so quickly. You hadn’t ever had the opportunity to test the theory before, but you had always imagined that leaving home would make you feel out of place.

But you didn’t.

Sure, you missed home in the way that any human that came from a loving and supporting family would, but you were expecting to ache for it. You had taken a long time in your backyard and in your favorite spot back home, just so you could have a final fix, but all that was to you now was a fond memory.

After a few moments of being alone with your thoughts, you were going to get up and take a shower, but you had decided to postpone it. While you were staring up at the ceiling, you realized that there was a lot of unused space that the sun hit toward the top of the room. Wasted sun was a felony in your book. You spent about an hour pulling down your curtain rod, removing the fabric, and replacing it with hanging pots of all sizes and lengths.

Your string of hearts, your pearls, your golden pothos - the thought of them being the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes in the morning was one that made you feel sentimental. You’d just have to be careful with watering.

Once you were satisfied with the placements, you made your way to the bathroom. As you waited for the shower to heat up to a tolerable temperature, you took some time to pluck any stray hairs around your eyebrows and gently brush the knots out of your hair. Self-care had always felt like a long term investment to you - one well worth it.

The warm spray of the shower felt amazing on your tired muscles, so you took your sweet time getting clean and enjoying it, then blow-drying your hair on low heat when you were finished. After, you excitedly got out your new pajama set, clipped the tags, and put it on.

Shortly thereafter, you heard a key slip into the lock on the front door. You were cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric on your freshly scrubbed skin as you watched through the complete second season of the Simpsons, popcorn in your lap.

When he stepped into the house, he raised his eyebrows at you, surveying the area.

“What?” you asked, giving him a confused look.

“Just looking for the books and the homework.” You rolled your eyes at him before he continued on with, “I just always assumed that when I wasn’t around, you were doing boring, adult things.”

You gave him a playful shrug as you gestured to the noticeably book free space around you.

He squinted at you suddenly. “Are you in your pajamas? You know it’s like 3:30 in the afternoon, right?”

“They’re new!” you quipped. “And I was excited to wear them. You don’t have to be jealous, you could go get yours on and join me.”

The offer seemed to be tempting him. “I have a better idea. How about you go change, and we’re going to go to a party tonight.”

You scowled at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you crazy? I’m already in my pajamas. I’ve already taken my bra off! Once it’s off, it doesn’t go back on.”

He laughed, loud and unabashed, showing you all of his teeth. The sound made your cheeks flush.

“C’mon, I bet Kate will be there,” he reasoned. “And I obviously will be. And I’m positive Jake will be too. This might be your chance to get them to hook up.”

You bit your bottom lip in consideration. “The timing would be kinda perfect; she could have the whole day tomorrow to process it and then tell me about it on Monday.”

He was smirking at you when you looked back up at him, making you tuck your hair behind your ear anxiously. “If I come, do you promise not to leave me alone?”

He nodded at you confidently. “I will not leave you.”

The very first thing you did was message Kate. It was vital that she was there, just in case Josh got too drunk to remember his promise. You didn’t have a hard time socializing, per-say. You were just nervous about your first real social event here.

Josh was right though - it wouldn’t kill you to make some more friends.

When you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth, Kate messaged back saying that she would never miss getting to see you drunk, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her you had to drive, so you opted to leave that part out. You worked on picking out a good, sensible outfit and took your time to put on makeup again. Admittedly, it felt kind of nice - you used to wear a full beat all the time, but somewhere along the line it started to feel tedious, which is something you never wanted any of your favorite things to feel, so you put the whole idea of it on the shelf for a while.

When you finally emerged from your room around 8, Josh was sitting on the kitchen counter, phone in his hands as he furiously typed out a message. You listened to the pleasant sound of his fingers tapping on the glass screen for a moment before speaking.

“Who are you messaging?” you asked, but it didn’t grab his full attention right away.

“Just one of the other theater guys,” he said through a near sneer. The only time you ever saw him looking distressed was when it came to his production. “Trying to tell me what I can and can’t do with my own production-”

When he looked up at you the rest of his thoughts seemed to escape him, all the emotion in his face and posture crumbling away.

You folded your hands together, giving him a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

He tucked his phone into the pocket of his pants, abandoning whatever he had been so intent on doing just seconds ago.

“Yeah, I just haven’t ever seen you dressed up before.”

The extra attention made you slump back against the hallway wall, giving him a nervous grimace. Through pursed lips, you asked, “Is it too much?”

His eyes popped open, along with his mouth. It took him a moment to speak actual words - like he wanted to say a lot all at once. “What? No! I’m just stupid,” he assured, running his fingers through his curls. “It took my brain a moment to process.”

You gave him a forgiving smile, opening the fridge and grabbing out a carton of juice. He watched as you took a swig, letting you swallow before asking, “Do you want me to drive?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, finger swiping away a stray droplet. “Can you?”

“Drive?” he laughed. “Yes. I can drive.”

“Legally?” you pressed, handing over the carton to him when you caught him eyeing it. He took a drink right from the spout as well, giving you a wink that made you lovingly roll your eyes.

+++

You two seemed to unintentionally match. He was in a pair of khaki pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a denim jacket on top. You were positive he was going to freeze solid one of these days because he always seemed to be way underdressed for the weather.

As you went to get out of the car, he stopped you with a touch to your knee. “You should take off your jacket and hat and leave them in here; I wouldn’t ever trust leaving them unattended at a party.” He paused before speaking again. “Not that anyone would necessarily steal them, just that people get drunk and think stuff is theirs.”

“Like you did with the wallet?” you teased, making him rub at the back of his neck.

“Yes,” he said pointedly through a grin. “Like that.”

He held the sleeve of your jacket as you shrugged out of it, abandoning it into the back seat. You took just a second to mourn the fact that it would be cold when you went to put it back on.

In the rearview mirror, you fixed your hair, having been mussed by the removal of your hat, and then stepped out. He ushered you along first, reaching past you and pushing the door open for you when you had reached it. The music hit you like a wall, loud and energetic - followed quickly by the smell of alcohol. A cloud of smoke hung subtly near the ceiling, giving the room an air of mystery. You realized you hadn’t made a move to enter the house when you felt his hand on the middle of your back.

“Everything okay?” he asked, just above the volume of the music. You nodded, feeling silly for holding him up, and stepped inside.

People were moving to the music like blood reacting to a heartbeat, swaying around to the rhythms all in a pleasant unison. The scene was oddly hypnotic as the colors danced around.

The second that people could see Josh behind you, they started calling his name. Your stomach lurched for a second, scared that he was either going to leave you or drag you to a group that you didn’t know, but he waved them off instead.

“I’ll catch you guys in a minute,” he shouted through a grin so charming they couldn’t seem to muster up a shred of annoyance toward him. Then, he spoke the next part right against your ear. “You want a drink?”

“Just one,” you agreed with a nod, shivering ever so slightly as his breath hit your cheek.

In the kitchen, huddled around an island covered by bottles, was a group of people, all very visibly drunk. One of those people was Kate, dressed in a crisp looking pair of jeans, a white crop top, and a red checkered flannel shirt, left open to expose her midriff.

When she caught sight of you, she gave you a big, toothy smile. The sharp fringe of her bob moved just enough to sometimes expose a pair of gold disk earrings.

“Need a drink?” she asked as she broke away from the rest of the crowd. “I’ll make it for you.”

You put your hands up, laughing at her enthusiasm. “I’m going to let Josh make it for me,” you informed, knowing full well that she would make it strong enough to get you drunk and keep you in that state for the whole evening.

The one that Josh ended up making for you was, undeniably, a rum and Coke. Not your most favorite thing ever, but then again, this one was mostly just Coke. You made a mental note to thank him for being so considerate.

The three of you ended up in the living room, right in the throws of all the action. You’d been to a few parties back home, but this felt kind of different. Back home, it was always hot, so the parties usually spilled out into the yard in all directions. Come to think of it, you’d never been to a party where the guests weren’t making prominent use of the pool. But here everyone was packed in tightly, making a large house feel tiny.

Kate found you all a nice little corner with a love seat and some kind of weird puff you think you were meant to put your feet on. Settling in there meant you’d have to share the space with a couple of other people, but it felt worth it to not be standing in the middle of the room. Being out in the open made you feel nervous - like you were being circled by sharks.

The songs changed, but the beat seemed to stay pretty much the same, making it easy for the time to slip by without your acknowledgment. By the time you checked your watch, it was nearly eleven.

True to his word, Josh didn’t leave your side the whole night. People kept popping in and out to get a word with him. You couldn’t hear them well because he was sat across from you, but he was laughing quite a bit. Some of it looked kind of forced, but most of it seemed genuine - like he was actually having a nice time.

It wasn’t until you were close to getting ready to leave that you saw Jake making his way down the stairs, one hand on the wooden railing to steady himself and the other wrapped around a red cup. You flashed him a smile when his eyes landed on you, and he gave you one back, giving you a feather-light punch to your shoulder when he reached you.

“Move over,” he demanded in Josh’s direction, sitting nearly on top of him on the couch, with only light complaints from his twin.

“You smell like sex,” Josh said through a fake grimace, pressing his elbow into Jake’s ribs.

“Can’t imagine why,” Jake responded with a smirk, lifting the cup to his lips as you giggled at him.

The realization struck you as his eyes landed on Kate next. “Oh, Jake, this is my friend Kate. Kate, Jake Kiszka.”

She reached out and took his hand to shake and at the same moment, Josh laid his hand on your leg and through a grin, asked, “Should we take off?”

You laughed, giving him a nod.

“Kathrine, Jacob,” Josh started, clapping his hands together in front of him. “We are leaving. See you guys soon?”

“We should actually get tacos,” Kate stated seriously to the group as a whole, and then just to Josh said, “And my name is Kathleen.”