#the second one was caused by a neighbor and an electrical fire

[anonymousboxcar]

Sorry for having been radio silent for so long. I’ve been dealing with power outages, a busted furnace, and a lot of work. The end result was that I got very busy and a bit burned out.

I’m doing better now and things have gotten better on all those fronts. I don’t know if/when I’ll be posting fics or headcanons, but I hope to be more involved on here again!

[hoshifighting]

rockstar!reader x church boy & bestfriend!joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua and you had this contrast, you too embedded in the electric guitars, the polemic rock band shirts, and Joshua deeply focused on taking care of the church activities. He has no idea of the after-parties of your concerts, but after so much insistence of him, you bring Joshua to meet your wildest side, the side you never let him meet before. — Genre: Best friends to Lovers — WC: 11.05k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, slight angst, groupies showing tits references, alcohol, smoking and drug references, religious imagery—mention of a cross necklace, faith-based inner conflict. penetrative sex, rough sex, public make out, fingering, nipple play—reader have nipple piercings, face-slapping, mentions of boy fluids; cum/precum, cock riding, clit stimulation, dirty talk, post-sex care.

The neighborhood kids were a patchwork of personalities—there were the loud ones, the shy ones, the troublemakers, the saints. And then, there was you and Joshua. From the outside, it made no sense. You, the devil-may-care rebel with ripped jeans, always two seconds away from an argument with someone who couldn’t handle your attitude.

And Joshua, with his pristine shirts buttoned all the way up, soft-spoken voice, and the kind of calm that came from growing up in a house where every wall had a cross and every Sunday had a sermon. He was the kid who never missed a single morning of church, and you were the kid who never missed a single rehearsal with your rock band, banging out chords in your parents’ garage so loud the neighbors had to invest in better windows.

But here’s the thing: despite everything that set you apart, you were inseparable. You’d been friends since you were both knee-high, back when you didn’t even care about music or God or any of the other big things that defined you later. Joshua was the kid you trusted with everything. The one who’d patch up your scraped knees when you wiped out on your bike, even if you yelled at him for fussing too much. The one who never let you feel alone, even when the world felt like it was coming down around you.

You’d look at him sometimes—like now, when you two were sitting on the curb outside your house, him in one of those stiff, white shirts with the collar high enough to strangle someone, and you in your old, faded Black Sabbath tee—and wonder how the hell this worked.

“I don’t get why you always button that thing up like that,” you mutter, side-eyeing him as you light a cigarette.

Joshua looks over, raising a brow. “You sound like my mom,” he says, smirking. “Besides, it’s comfortable.”

“No way. You look like you’re ready to choke.”

“Yeah, well, you look like you’re ready to summon a demon or something in that shirt,” he fires back, glancing at the witch printed on the front of your tee. “You couldn’t find something uglier?”

You snort, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re just mad ‘cause you know Sabbath’s better than that crap you play.”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “Hey, I like Coldplay, alright? Not everything’s gotta be power chords and screaming.”

“I don’t scream,” you retort, half grinning.

“Yeah, you do.”

“Do not.”

“You screamed at the last gig.”

“That was—” You pause. “That was for effect.”

Joshua chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure. For ‘effect.’”

The thing is, Joshua could have roasted you to dust if he wanted to. But he never did. He’d always laugh it off, always find a way to turn the conversation into something lighter. And no matter how different you were, there was this unspoken respect between you. Like how he showed up to your gigs in high school wearing one of your band’s shirts, plastering flyers in the school hallways and sneaking some into the church bulletin board when no one was looking. 

And how you showed up at his baptism, cross necklace and all, standing there in the back, quiet but present. You never took the necklace off after that. The church boy who wouldn’t dare wear anything less than holy had given you a symbol of his faith, and you’d worn it ever since. You believed but weren't dedicated to it like Joshua, you used it because it was from him.

Joshua notices it now, the silver cross resting against your chest, slightly crooked. He reaches out, straightening it with a soft smile. “You still wear this?”

“Never took it off,” you admit, taking a long drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t mean I’m converting, though.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” he replies, leaning back on his palms. “I like that you wear it.”

You glance at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Joshua says, turning his gaze toward the sunset dipping below the houses. “It’s…nice, y’know? Like, no matter how far apart we get, we’re still connected.”

“Connected, huh?” you murmur, tapping the cigarette ash onto the ground. “You’re getting sappy again, dude.”

He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shut up. You like it.”

“Yeah, but your world’s so boring, Josh. All hymns and Jesus. You should come to the dark side more often.”

“Pass,” he says with a smirk, but there’s warmth behind it. “I’d rather keep watching you make it big as a rockstar. Somebody’s gotta pray for you when you’re out there corrupting the youth.”

Maybe that’s the thing about you and Joshua—no matter how much you rag on each other, how different your lives look on the surface, there’s a connection you can’t explain. You’re fire and he’s ice, but somehow, you keep each other balanced.

“Hey,” you say, suddenly serious, eyes fixed on the street ahead. “Thanks for, y’know…showing up. For all of it. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around.”

Joshua’s voice softens. “You don’t have to thank me. You’ve always been there for me too.”

You glance at him, your heart doing this weird flip in your chest. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” you tease, though the words come out gentler than you intended.

Joshua grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Too late.”

You take another drag, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence, the kind only years of friendship can create. 

You weren’t trying to change him, and he wasn’t trying to save you.

The gossipy aunts on the block could speculate all they wanted—Joshua didn’t convert you, and no, you didn’t lead Joshua down some reckless path. You two were just… you. 

He’d brought you to church bazaars, where the smell of fried dough and barbecue sauce clung to your clothes long after you’d left, but he’d never pushed you to step foot into one of the more serious services. The ones where the hymns stretched on forever and people lost themselves in prayer. You didn’t do that, and he never asked you to.

And you? Well, you dragged Joshua to your gigs. He always stood at the front, close enough to feel the vibrations from the speakers, his clean-cut figure looking hilariously out of place in the sea of ripped jeans, leather jackets, and band tees.

But no matter how much he begged—and he did beg—you never brought him to the after-parties. The kind of chaos that erupted once the amps were off and the guitars were packed up. You’d drive him home, drop him off with a playful slap on the back, and head to the wildness he’d never see.

He didn’t need to know about the after-parties. He didn’t need to see you in your shortest leather mini skirt, the one that barely passed as clothing, as you downed beer after beer straight from the bottle, while the groupies flashed their tits at the band.

Joshua didn’t need to witness the wild shit that happened when everyone was too drunk or high to care about who was screwing who in the corner or the endless river of alcohol. That wasn’t his world, and you didn’t want him to see you like that. It was one thing for him to come to your shows, but seeing you let loose in a way that would make even your bandmates blush? No. He didn’t belong there.

Except… now Joshua was sitting with you in your garage, tuning your guitar like he always did before a big show, and he’d overheard you talking about the after-party.

“It’s the ten-year gig, huh?” he said casually, fingers sliding over the strings, adjusting them with that stupid focus he always had. “Big deal.”

“Yeah,” you replied, not thinking much of it. “It’s gonna be insane.”

Joshua’s head tilted, his lips pursing slightly. You recognized that look. It was the one he got when he was curious about something, when he was too polite to ask outright but dying to know more. He glanced at you. “You doing anything after? Like, after the gig?”

You paused. Shit. You hadn’t expected him to actually ask about that part. “Uh… yeah. There’s an after-party,” you said slowly, not looking at him. You fiddled with one of the tuning pegs on your bass, trying to look busy. “Same old stuff. You know.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You’ve never let me go to one.”

You glanced up at him, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “That’s ‘cause it’s not your scene, Josh.”

“I want to see it,” he said, leaning forward a little. His voice was soft, but there was a determination there you weren’t used to. He wasn’t backing down from this one. “I’ve seen you perform. Why not let me see the rest?”

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Trust me, you don’t wanna see the rest.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow, studying you. “Why not?”

Why not? Why not? How were you supposed to explain this without getting even more flustered? You could feel your palms sweating just thinking about it. The thought of Joshua witnessing that version of you—messy, no filter—made your stomach twist in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“It’s just… different, okay?” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “Like, the crowd’s wilder. Things get… crazy. I’m not the same up there as I am here.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers, and you think I can’t handle ‘crazy’?”

“You’re not getting it,” you insisted, your voice a little sharper than you meant it to be. “This isn’t just a few beers and hanging out. People get wild, Josh. There’s stuff that happens that you probably don’t want to see. Hell, I don’t want you to see it.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he serious right now? Joshua, the guy who got anxious if someone said a cuss word too loud around him, was asking to see the madness that was your after-party?

“Why the hell would you want to see that?” you finally asked, genuinely confused.

“Because,” he said simply, leaning forward on his knees, “I’ve always seen one side of you. The side you let me see. I wanna see the whole picture. I want to know who you are when you’re up there, when you’re with your band, when you’re… being yourself.”

You felt your heart thud hard against your chest. Shit. This wasn’t just about the party, was it? He wanted to understand you. All of you.

“I don’t know, man…” You trailed off, looking anywhere but at him. 

“I can handle it,” Joshua said, voice gentle. “I’m not a kid. I know what goes on. Just because I don’t live like that doesn’t mean I can’t handle seeing it.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. He was stubborn, and you knew he wouldn’t let this go easily.

“Alright,” you finally said, sighing. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joshua smiled, wide and a little too innocent. “I’ll take my chances.”

[...]

The van sat parked in front of your house, baking in the morning sun, loaded with amps, guitars, and a drum kit that had seen better days. You were supervising the guys hauling the last of the equipment into the back, hair still wrapped in rollers, trying not to sweat through your shirt before you even made it to the venue.

And then, you saw him.

Joshua was walking up the driveway, and for a split second, you didn’t recognize him. The button-up shirt, the clean-cut image you were so used to—it was all gone. Instead, he was wearing one of your shirts, and not just any shirt. 

It was from your solo album outside the band, the one with the wild, scrawling letters across the chest and the cover art below. The cover art that featured your bust, as your tits were covered by an electric guitar. Skin covered in smeared kiss marks, lips of all colors pressed against your skin in a way that had been raunchy enough to make your bandmates whistle when you first showed them.

The album cover had been controversial, to say the least, but it sold like hotcakes. And Joshua—Joshua—was strutting around in it like it was no big deal.

You almost choked on your own spit.

He had black jeans on, hugging his legs in a way you didn’t expect, and he’d thrown on a couple of leather bracelets that looked suspiciously like the ones you’d worn on stage a few times. And the sunglasses perched on his head? Definitely not his usual vibe. He looked like someone who belonged backstage, maybe even on stage, and not at some church picnic. Worse—he looked like the kind of guy you could moan just from looking at.

Your brain short-circuited. You could already imagine the girls from your staff catching sight of him and drooling. Hell, you were almost drooling.

But then you caught sight of that shirt again, and all you could think was, out of all the merch I’ve got, why the fuck did he pick that one?

“Josh…” you called out, your voice full of disbelief as he approached. You gestured at the shirt. “Did… did your parents see you before you left?”

Joshua burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? No way. My mom would’ve had a heart attack. I snuck out before they were even awake.”

You groaned, clapping your forehead. “Oh my God. You realize you’re walking around with a picture of my tits on your chest, right?”

He grinned, glancing down at the shirt like it hadn’t even occurred to him. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s bold, right?”

“Bold?” you repeated, eyes wide. “It’s fucking obscene! You wearing that is obscene. Jesus, I can already hear the aunties in the neighborhood clutching their pearls.”

Joshua shrugged, completely unfazed. “Relax. No one from church is gonna be at the venue. I’m good.”

You gave him a hard look, still half in disbelief. “I’m not worried about church people, I’m worried about all the other people.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t think I can pull it off?”

You blinked. Was he pulling it off? The more you stared at him, the more your brain started to fry. You didn’t know how to process this new Joshua—the one standing in front of you like he’d been born to wear that shirt. Born to make you lose your goddamn mind.

Joshua noticed your silence and raised an eyebrow. “What? You embarrassed?”

“I—no!” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning. “It’s just… fuck, you couldn’t pick a more normal one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, flashing a grin that was a little too cocky for your liking.

“I can already see the crew girls drooling over you.”

Joshua shrugged, completely unfazed. “Let ‘em drool.”

You had to laugh at that.

“You know what? Never mind,” you muttered, waving him off. “Let’s just get to the venue before I lose it.”

Joshua chuckled and followed you to the van, casually tossing his sunglasses onto the dashboard as he climbed into the passenger seat. You took one last glance at him before slamming the door shut. He was leaning back, arms crossed, looking totally at ease in a way that was both infuriating and�� kind of hot. Shit.

You could feel Joshua’s presence next to you, his knee brushing yours whenever you hit a bump. It was distracting as hell, but you did your best to focus on the road, on the gig, on anything that wasn’t Joshua in that damn shirt.

The ride was filled with the usual chaos—your drummer tapping out beats on the seat in front of him, your guitarist tweaking pedal settings on the floor, and the bass player scrolling through social media, barely paying attention. Joshua sat next to you, quiet, but you could tell he was absorbing everything. The energy, the vibe. This was the part of your life he’d never seen before.

When you finally pulled up to the venue, you felt the familiar buzz of expectation in your chest. The stage crew was already setting up, speakers being wired in, lights being tested. You hopped out of the van, gesturing to the others to get moving.

Joshua followed close behind, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The venue was bigger than the high school stages he was used to seeing you on. It was packed with people running back and forth, instruments being tuned, sound checks echoing in the air.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the stage. “This is...bigger than I expected.”

“Told ‘ya,” you said, grinning as you grabbed your bass and slung it over your shoulder. “Welcome to the real deal.”

Joshua nodded, clearly impressed. You could see the awe in his face, and a part of you felt proud that he was seeing this side of your world. The chaos, the noise, the energy. It was all part of the life you lived—the one he’d never been fully exposed to.

As the band started running through sound check, Joshua found a spot near the back, watching quietly, tapping his foot along with the beat. Every once in a while, you’d glance back at him, half-expecting to see him overwhelmed, but he wasn’t. He was nodding along, sunglasses now perched on his nose, looking like he fit right in.

You could hear the low murmur of the crowd outside, getting louder as more people settled into their seats. Joshua was still talking with Rob, your drummer, which gave you just enough time to pull the rollers out of your hair and finish your makeup in front of the cracked mirror in the dressing room. You rushed through it, swiping on your signature dark lipstick, when the door creaked open, and in walked Joshua.

Of course.

He stopped mid-stride, eyes darting around the room, then finally landing on you—and your outfit. You were wearing a black, lacy top that was just sheer enough to leave little to the imagination, especially when it came to the piercing you knew he had seen before. You’d never made a big deal out of it, but every time Joshua caught a glimpse, he’d get that uncomfortable look on his face, like he wasn’t supposed to be seeing something so private.

“Eyes, Joshua. Eyes,” you could almost hear him coaching himself. His gaze flickered up to your face, but it was too late—you’d caught the quick dip to your chest, to the black leather pants hugging your hips like a second skin.

“Uh, hey,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, clearly trying to act casual, but his voice came out rougher than usual. “I was, uh… just letting you know I should probably get to my seat. The crowd’s filling in.”

You smirked, finishing the last swipe of lipstick and tossing the tube onto the makeup table. “Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and adjusting the top slightly. “You’re not sitting in the crowd anyway.”

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion, still trying hard to maintain eye contact, which was almost comical at this point.

“You coming up for the encore,” you explained, crossing your arms. “VIP section, side-stage. Didn’t I tell you?”

Joshua blinked. “No. You didn’t mention that.”

You grinned, seeing how flustered he was, and it only made you want to push him further. “Guess I forgot.” You winked, loving the way his mouth opened slightly, the words stuck in his throat. “Go get settled. We’ll call you up when it’s time.”

He mumbled something under his breath and awkwardly nodded, backing out of the room with a half-hearted wave. As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a breath, grinning to yourself. Good luck keeping your eyes up there, church boy.

[...]

By the time you hit the stage, the crowd was electric. You could feel the vibration in your bones, the pulse of the drums and bass weaving through your body. The lights were blinding, sweat already starting to drip down your back within the first few songs. You scanned the crowd, catching sight of Joshua standing where you told him, off to the side, eyes glued to you like he’d never seen you before.

Maybe he hadn’t.

You weren’t just some girl with a guitar tonight. You were in it, the music flowing through your veins, your hands sliding over the neck of the guitar like they were made for it. The band was tight, every note hitting harder than the last, and you felt alive in a way you couldn’t describe. The crowd roared, hands reaching out as your bandmates, already stripped of their shirts, threw them into the audience like trophies.

Joshua’s eyes were wide, watching the sweat drip down your arms as your muscles flexed with every chord change. You were lost in it, mouth slightly open during one of your solos, head thrown back as you pulled the guitar into your body like it was an extension of you. You could feel his gaze, heavy and unblinking, and it only pushed you harder. You let your voice growl into the mic, letting out the kind of raw, strong energy that got you here in the first place.

His mind must’ve been racing. He’d seen you play before, but never like this. Never with this much heat, this much intensity. You weren’t just a rockstar tonight—you were a sex symbol, and every single person in that venue, including Joshua, could feel it.

It hit him then—this was why you didn’t want him to come to the after-parties. It wasn’t just about the chaos or the booze. It was because, in this space, on stage, with the lights and the music and the crowd screaming your name—you were untouchable. And so, so fucking hot.

He’d always known you were beautiful, but this? This was something else. Watching your body move in rhythm with the music, the way your fingers slid across the strings, the sweat glistening on your skin—fuck. Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every part of you was dripping with confidence, sexuality.

The crowd erupted as you launched into the final solo, the room swelling with the sound of your guitar. Joshua’s gaze lingered on your body, on the way your leather pants clung to every curve, on the sway of your hips as you moved, and on your lips, slightly parted as you leaned into the mic. He swallowed hard, heat rushing to his face as he watched your muscles tense and release, every move planned, every note flawless.

His thoughts ran wild, and as you finished the set, throwing your head back in a final roar of victory, he couldn’t help but think, So this is what she didn’t want me to see.

The show ended in a blur of cheers and flashing lights, the energy still pulsing in your veins as you stumbled off stage, half-drunk on adrenaline. When you spotted Joshua at the back of the room, standing there with that wide-eyed look of disbelief, you couldn't help but laugh.

You walked over to him, sweat still glistening on your skin, a tired but satisfied grin on your face. “Well?” you asked, chest heaving. “What’d you think?”

Joshua blinked, forcing his gaze up from the floor to meet yours. He swallowed thickly, that guilty knot tightening in his throat. “It was… amazing,” he admitted, his voice a little hoarse. “You were—fuck, you’re incredible up there.”

His compliment was genuine, but there was something else in his eyes. Something conflicted, like he wasn’t sure how to feel about what he’d just seen. His best friend—the girl he’d known since forever—looked like this. Played like that. He felt sick about it. Sick because his heart was pounding for all the wrong reasons. Sick because seeing you like that—half-wild, sweaty, powerful—it wasn’t just admiration anymore.

You grinned, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Told you it was a rush.”

Before he could respond, the two of you heard the unmistakable sound of feet pounding the floor. Fans. A whole wave of them was running toward the back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the band before they left. You didn’t even think, just grabbed Joshua’s hand and yanked him with you, sprinting toward the van parked outside.

You were laughing as you ran, your grip tight around his wrist, and Joshua couldn’t help the way his heart raced—whether from running or from being so close to you, he didn’t know. He could hear you breathing hard, could see the wildness in your eyes. And for the first time, he got it. The thrill. The chaos. The rush that came with living your life like this.

By the time you both reached the van and slammed the door behind you, you collapsed onto the seat, letting out a long, relieved moan. Joshua just stood there for a moment, chest heaving, eyes wide. He felt it now—the thrill, the electric hum in his blood. But also something else, something that made his stomach twist.

When you caught his eye and smiled that lazy, satisfied smile, he felt like he was losing his grip. You looked like a sexy mess, hair tousled, lipstick smeared, eyes sparkling. He could still feel the warmth of your hand in his, and it was doing things to him—dangerous things.

“The after-party’s at a club,” you said, glancing at him as the van roared to life. “Private for tonight. Just the band and our friends.”

Joshua nodded, his mouth dry. He had no idea what to expect.

[...]

The club was another world entirely.

The moment you stepped inside, Joshua was hit with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and something that might’ve been smoke, but wasn’t just cigarettes. The bass was pounding, vibrating through the floor, and there were bodies everywhere.

The first thing he noticed was your bandmates already surrounded by a small crowd of girls—half-naked, some practically sitting in their laps. One of them was making out with the guitarist, her hand slipping under his shirt while the others just laughed, already drunk and messy.

Joshua’s throat tightened, his eyes wide as he took it all in. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. People were drinking, smoking, making out in dark corners, hands wandering under clothes with zero shame.

And then there was you.

You didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a drink from the bar and downing it like it was water. When you turned to face him, leaning back against the bar with your leather pants clinging to your body and your shirt barely covering anything, you were a vision. A sexy, disheveled vision, your hair a mess, lips wet from the drink, and eyes hazy from the adrenaline of the show.

You were the kind of person that people wrote songs about—the kind of person that people lost themselves over.

“You good?” you asked, voice low, almost drowned out by the music.

Joshua blinked, swallowing hard. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.” But he wasn’t. He could barely keep his head straight with everything going on around him.

You grinned, holding out your drink. “Here. This’ll help.”

He hesitated for a second, but then grabbed the glass, taking a long gulp. The burn of alcohol felt good, grounding him for a moment. But it wasn’t enough to block out the heat in his chest, the strange attraction, the strange guilt swirling inside him.

You chuckled, watching him down half the drink. “Easy there.”

Joshua wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling hard. He shook his head, swallowing again, trying to focus. But then you were close—too close—and he could smell the combination of your perfume and sweat, and suddenly it was all he could think about. You were so casual about it, so relaxed in this wild mess, like you were born for it.

Joshua stared at you, watching the way your body moved with the music, the way your hips swayed slightly, your hair falling in your face. And he couldn’t help it—he wanted you. Wanted to pull you close, to taste the sweat on your skin, to feel the heat of you pressed against him.

But he couldn’t. You were his best friend. You’d been through everything together. But right now, in this moment, you weren’t just his friend. You were a fucking rockstar. And that terrified him as much as it thrilled him.

Joshua took another long drink, trying to drown the feelings that were bubbling up inside him. You watched him, a slow, knowing smile creeping onto your lips as you leaned in closer, eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“You feelin’ it now, aren’t you?” you whispered, voice just loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Because yeah, he was feeling it. The rush, the heat, the want. And it was all because of you.

Someone in the crowd—a guy with a half-buttoned shirt and lazy grin—held out a blunt to Joshua, smirking. “Want a hit, man?”

Joshua froze. His mind blanked for a second. “Nah, he doesn’t smoke. Leave him alone.” The air suddenly felt too heavy, the idea of it too real. Before he could even answer, you were at his side, grabbing the guy’s hand and pushing it back with a casual laugh. “He’s too saintly for that.”

Joshua froze, the word saintly cutting through the noise. You were teasing, of course, but that single word twisted in his gut. He didn’t need you looking at him like that—like he was too pure, too clean for this world you thrived in. He hated it. Hated that you saw him like some untouched, pristine version of himself that didn’t even exist. That look you gave him, all amused and lighthearted, made his skin crawl because it only reminded him of how distant he felt from you in that moment.

You grinned at him, eyes gleaming. “Come on, Josh. You’re way too neat for this shit. Leave the bad habits to me.”

He clenched his jaw, hands in his pockets, trying to keep his cool. The thing was—you had no idea. You saw him as the same old Joshua, the one you grew up with, the guy who kept his hands clean while you dived headfirst into the chaos. But fuck, that wasn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. You thought he was some perfect church boy who’d never done anything wild, who probably still had his V-card, for God’s sake.

If only you knew.

The way you laughed about it, as if the thought of him doing anything wild—anything sinful—was so absurd it was hilarious. And that burned. More than it should’ve.

Joshua swallowed, trying to keep his cool, but your words dug in deep. Saintly. Neat. Like you didn’t know. Like you couldn’t even imagine him doing anything like that. He wasn’t a fucking saint. He wasn’t clean like you thought. He’d done things—felt things—that would wipe that smirk off your face. But you… you never saw him that way. Not Joshua.

 “You’re lucky, y’know? Not everyone can pull off that whole saintly thing,” you teased, brushing a hand through your messy hair.

He clenched his jaw. “I’m not a fucking saint,” he muttered under his breath. But you didn’t hear him—or maybe you didn’t care.

Joshua felt his pulse quicken, the alcohol buzzing in his system, loosening up the tension in his limbs but doing nothing to calm his mind. He hated how you looked at him. Like he was too clean, too good for this world you lived in. He hated how you never saw him as anything more than “good ol’ Joshua.” The guy who had never gone off the rails, the guy who probably never even had his dick wet before.

That’s what you thought, wasn’t it?

And fuck, he couldn’t stand it. The truth gnawed at him, because you had no idea who he was outside of your little bubble. You didn’t know about the times he’d stayed up too late, desperate to cum, the fantasies he’d let himself get lost in—half of them about you, goddammit. You didn’t know about the nights he’d spent grinding against someone, hands buried in their hair, feeling the warmth of their body pressed against his, the messy nights where he lost himself entirely.

You looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

His breath caught. You were joking—you had to be—but something in the way you said it, so casual, so sure that he wouldn’t… it broke something in him. The club around him blurred as he focused on you, standing there all relaxed, your lips still slightly parted, that familiar teasing glint in your eyes.

He couldn’t stop himself. “You really think I’m that fucking innocent, huh?” His voice was sharper than he intended, the words cutting through the thrum of the music.

You blinked, pulling back slightly, surprised by the edge in his tone. “What? No, I just—”

“You think I’ve never been with anyone? Never had my fuckin’ cock wet before?” He didn’t care how crude it sounded. Didn’t care that it was probably the first time you’d ever heard him talk like that. He was sick of it. Sick of the version of himself you’d created in your mind.

You feel the heat rise in your chest, a compound of anger and something else you don’t even want to admit. The way he said it—rough, out of character—like he was someone else entirely. Part of you wants to slap him for it, for breaking the image of the Joshua you knew. The good one. The clean-cut guy who’d never even raise his voice, let alone tell you he wasn’t so fucking innocent. But the other part of you… it liked it. The tension, the bite in his words, the way he stood there, all riled up.

You narrow your eyes, smirking just a little.

His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare. For the first time, you see his eyes darken—none of that usual light. No soft Joshua anymore. His face shifts into something harder, almost dangerous. It catches you off guard, and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re playing a game you can win.

“Don’t push it,” he warns. It sends a cold lick from the beginning of your spine to the end, but you tilt your head, still smirking, testing him.

“What? Gonna do something about it?” You lean in closer, just inches from his face now, daring him. “C’mon, Joshua. Show me.”

And then it happens.

He’s on you so fast, you don’t even have time to process it. His hands grab your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you feel it—the hard line of his cock pressing into your belly. Your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean in, testing the waters, your body instinctively reacting to the sudden heat between you two.

His mouth crashes onto yours, rough, almost desperate, all that pent-up tension is spilling out at once. His lips are soft but demanding, like they’re asking for something, but also taking it without permission. You kiss him back just as fiercely, a messy clash of teeth and tongues, the taste of alcohol on both your breaths mixing as you struggle for control.

His hands slide down your back, grabbing your ass with a roughness that makes you gasp, and he pulls you tighter against him, grinding into you just enough to let you know exactly how turned on he is. “Fuck,” he mutters into your mouth, barely pulling away to speak. You can feel the frustration, the years of him being the good one, bubbling up in every kiss, every touch.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, but you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your nails digging into his skin through his shirt. It’s messy, frantic, and the sound of it—the heavy breathing, the low growls coming from him, the way your lips smack together—fills the small space between you like the only thing that matters is how fast and hard you can make this happen.

And god, it’s wrong. So fucking wrong. You can feel it in the back of your mind, the thought lingering, telling you this isn’t who Joshua is. Not the guy you grew up with. But right now, he doesn’t feel like the Joshua you knew. He feels like someone who’s been hiding this side of himself for too long, someone who’s finally letting the mask slip.

And the worst part? You like it. Maybe too much.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes—fuck, his eyes are almost black with craving, his chest heaving as he stares at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You can see it on his face—how much he wants this, how much he needs to prove to you that he’s not as clean as you think he is.

“You sure you wanna keep pushing?” His voice is raspy, breathless, and his grip on your hips tightens. “’Cause I don’t think you can handle what happens if you do.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down. “Try me,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

And just like that, he’s on you again. This time, rougher. His mouth moves down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin as he kisses you there, biting just hard enough to make you gasp. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and you feel the hard press of his cock grinding into your stomach as his hands roam over your body, touching, grabbing, pulling. He’s all over you.

You’re backed into the wall of the van now, his body trapping you there, and for a second, you think about the others. Your bandmates. The people who know Joshua—the real Joshua. You can almost feel their judgment, the silent “what the fuck” looks they’d give you if they saw this. If they saw how you’re fucking with his head, breaking him down until he’s someone else entirely.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when he’s kissing you like this, touching you like this. Not when his hand slips under your shirt, fingers grazing over your bare skin, making you shiver. Not when he’s showing you this side of himself that you never even thought existed.

And fuck, you realize. You’ve been wrong about Joshua. So, so wrong.

And he’s not done showing you just how wrong you’ve been.

Joshua’s hands slide under your top, squeezing your waist, his thumbs teasing your skin, brushing against the underside of your boobs until they find your nipples, flicking at the piercings. The sensation makes you gasp, your body betraying you as you fold under his touch. You clutch his arm, your breath heavy against his neck, before you moan right into his ear. You feel him twitch, nearly stumbling in front of you, his control unraveling.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking it back to force his eyes on you. His bottom lip catches between his teeth, and you can see the hunger there, the intensity, the rawness of it. “We need to stop,” you breathe, trying to sound firm, but even to your own ears, it’s weak.

Joshua’s mouth presses back against your neck, and he mutters between kisses, each one punctuating his words. “No. You don’t. Want. To. Stop. Do. You?” His breath is hot against your skin, each word hitting you harder than the last, unraveling your willpower.

“I’m serious,” you insist, but it’s pathetic, because the way he’s touching you—like he’s memorizing every inch of your body, like he’s known this moment was coming—makes it impossible to think straight.

He pulls back for a moment, eyes searching yours, checking if you really want to stop. His expression softens, as if he’s giving you an out. 

“We need to stop, or we’re gonna end up fucking right here in front of everyone.”

For a second, you both pause, glancing around. The crowd is still buzzing, everyone too lost in their own world to notice what’s happening between the two of you. You could, technically. You could fuck right here, and no one would bat an eye, but that last shred of morality keeps you in check, pulling you back from the edge. Barely.

Joshua was imagining just how much worse things could get. But honestly, he liked every single one of these thoughts. 

He grabs your hand, pulling you toward the club’s parking lot, and rushing toward the van.

The heavy door of the van slides shut behind you, and Joshua locks it with a rough click, sealing the two of you inside. The second the door’s closed, it’s like the floodgates open. His hands are everywhere—grabbing, pulling, needy. He kisses you harder now, more frantic, his body pushing you against the side of the van, and your back hits the first seat with a thud.

You stumble, the both of you crashing into a pile of boxed-up instruments. Your knee hits a guitar case, his ass bump on the drum box, but neither of you care. Joshua’s hand slides down to your ass, squeezing hard as he pulls you into him, making sure you feel every inch of him pressed against your thigh. You’re practically panting, the need between you both building, burning.

You push him back toward the last row of seats, hands fumbling at his belt as you go, your teeth grazing his jaw, his neck, tasting the sweat and the heat from the show earlier.

He moans down in his throat, a sound that rumbles through his chest and straight into yours, and you swear it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. His fingers dig into your hips as he backs into the seat, pulling you down on top of him, your legs straddling his lap, the hard press of his cock straining against his jeans beneath you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, grinding against him, and his head falls back against the seat, eyes rolling shut for a second as you move. You take advantage of it, your lips finding his neck, your teeth scraping his skin just enough to make him hiss.

The leather of your pants is sticking to your skin, but you barely register it as Joshua leans down, kissing you again, his hands slipping under your top and pulling it up, exposing you. His mouth moves lower, trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, and then lower, until his lips are at your chest. He doesn’t hesitate—his mouth finds your nipple, and he flicks his tongue over the piercing, making you arch your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

The leather pants cling to you, slick with sweat, and you can feel every inch of them suffocating your skin. You groan in frustration, hands fumbling to yank them off. In your hurry, you knock your elbow hard against a nearby box, hissing in pain. Joshua’s hands are on you immediately, steadying you as you finally peel the damn pants down, tossing them aside like they personally offended you. He takes the opportunity to shove his own pants down to his knees, and as you glance up, he's yanking his shirt over his head.

You’re back on his lap before he even realizes what’s happening, grinding down on him through the thin fabric of your underwear and his boxers. It’s a hell of a lot better than the rough leather, and you feel the instant response—his hands grip your thighs so hard it’s like he’s holding on for dear life, his head falling back with this breathless, whiny moan.

His fingers slide down the front of your panties, finding you soaked, and he’s instantly wrecked. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” he growls, his voice ragged, eyes dark and hungry as they lock onto yours. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

The dirty words coming from him feel so wrong, so foreign, but god, it’s making your head spin, red flags of danger flickering in your mind, and you can’t stop.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble, still grinding against his hand, but then he pushes a finger inside you, and your whole body jolts. A hand flies up, palm slamming against the fogged window for balance, leaving a print there as you rock forward, riding his thick, calloused finger.

His finger feels huge, and the stretch of it makes you dizzy. You’re thankful for the seat behind you, giving you the support you need because you’re practically sprawled back on it, grinding on his hand like your life depends on it. 

He’s watching you, eyes locked on every twitch of your face, every moan spilling from your lips, and then he slides another finger in. The stretch makes you gasp, thighs trembling as he moves them inside you, fingers curling and hitting that spot that makes your vision go blurry.

“Talk dirty to me,” he suddenly demands, voice low and gruff. 

“You… don’t like it when I curse,” you manage, barely coherent as his fingers keep moving inside you.

“Fuck that,” he growls, fingers curling deeper, making you whimper. “Call me whatever the fuck you want. Call me a motherfucker, I don’t care. Just talk to me, let me hear it.”

Your body’s trembling, eyes rolling back as you grind harder against his hand, desperate for more.

You moan, feeling his fingers pumping inside you as his thumb brushes your clit. You’re teetering on the edge, and words are spilling out before you can stop them. “God, Joshua… Always acting so pure. I bet no one would believe how fucking hard you are for me right now, huh?”

His breath stutters at your words, his fingers thrusting harder inside you. “Keep going.”

“Is this what you’ve wanted?” you gasp, rocking your hips against him, feeling that coil tightening in your belly. “You want me to ride your fingers like a fucking slut, huh?”

He groans, low and deep. "Fuck, yes”

Your body’s trembling, every thrust of his fingers pushing you closer to the brink. “You’re such a motherfucker,” you whisper against his lips, your voice breaking. "You feel that? Feel how close I am? You're gonna make me—shit!—cum all over your fingers.”

Your head falls back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed as his rough, calloused fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your entire body tense. You're whimpering, struggling to keep the dirty talk going, but it's hard to form words when every nerve in your body is on fire. "God, Joshua, your fingers... they’re so fucking big," you manage to choke out, voice shaky.

He smirks, eyes dark, watching the way your body responds to him. “If you think my fingers are big,” he breathes, thrusting them deeper, faster, “imagine how you’re gonna feel when it’s my cock inside you.”

The thought sends another wave of heat pooling between your legs, and you grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin as he moves his fingers faster, relentless, pressing into your sweet spot over and over. Your walls clamp down around him, and a broken cry escapes your lips, your body trembling as the tension snaps, pleasure ripping through you in a rush.

"Fuck—Joshua!" you moan, your voice high and desperate as your orgasm hits you hard, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tight you can barely think. Your slick coats his hand, and he watches you fall apart, eyes locked on the way your body writhes against his, chest heaving, face twisted in pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, and you can feel him watching you, his expression mirroring your own without even meaning to. His lips part in a quiet curse, like he’s just as lost in it as you are, completely captivated by the way you cum on his fingers, riding the digits until you curl up on him.

His fingers slip out of you, slick and shiny, leaving you empty. Your breath catches in your throat when his hand dips down to his own cock, still hard and straining under the thin fabric of his boxers. He grunts softly, shifting, and you catch a glimpse of the outline of it through the fabric—big, thick. Your mouth goes dry at the sight.

He’s moving fast, lips already on you again, his mouth latching onto your nipple. You gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling over the metal of your piercing like he’s obsessed—after all, besides seeing it through your blouses, now he has them in his mouth. His grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer, almost like he’s trying to devour you.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you rasp out, voice shaky, still buzzing from the orgasm he pulled from you with just his fingers. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

He pauses for a second, teeth scraping your skin as his mouth moves up to nip at your collarbone, smirking. “What, you think just 'cause I look all neat and clean, I don’t know how to make a girl cum?” he leaves a wet hickey on your chest. “Trust me, babe, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

You arch into him, head tilting back as his tongue flicks against your other nipple, but this time, he looks inside your eyes. “Could’ve fooled me… always acting like a saint.”

His hand tightens on your thigh, sliding up between your legs again, brushing against your soaked panties. He smirks against your skin. “You’re the one who’s been driving me fucking crazy. Always teasing me. You know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

You’re about to reply, but his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your panties, dragging them to the side. The next thing you know, he’s pushing his boxers down, freeing his cock. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of it—he’s big, thicker than you expected, the tip already slick with precum. And for a moment, you can’t help but wonder how many girls have seen this side of him, but then he’s guiding you back onto his lap, hands firm on your hips, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Shit,” you whisper, feeling the thick head of his cock brushing against your folds. The feel makes you hold your breath, the heat from his body and the sheer wrongness of it making your pulse race.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a brief second, there’s conflict there—like he’s torn between the best friend who used to crash on your couch, and the guy who's about to fuck you. He’s barely holding himself together.

He guides himself inside you slowly, inch by inch, and you can feel every stretch, every pulse of his cock as it fills you up. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as you sink down onto him, his size making your head spin. "Jesus, Joshua..." you groan, head falling forward, overwhelmed by how full you feel.

His cock feels impossibly big, filling you up completely, and for a moment, you wonder how the hell you’re even taking him.

His hands tremble slightly on your waist as he pushes the rest of the way in, a throaty moan slipping from his lips. “Fuck, this is so wrong,” he mutters, voice shaky, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re my fucking best friend, I shouldn’t be doing this—” His voice breaks off into another moan as you start to move, your hips rolling against him.

You watch him, grinning at the conflict flickering in his eyes, the way his face contorts with each movement of your hips. His best friend—the girl he’s never even crossed boundaries with—now stretched out, tight around his cock. It's almost too much for him, his mind clearly buzzing with how wrong it is, but his body craves more, needing the way you feel wrapped around him.

His moans meld with yours, louder now, whiny. "You're making me fucking lose my mind."

You lean in close, lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “Then lose it. Let me fuck you like no one else ever has.”

He growls low in his throat, his control slipping completely. He thrusts up into you, harder, deeper, and you moan, head falling back as your body rocks against his. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing roughly as he pulls you down onto him again and again, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust.

You press both hands to his chest, halting his frantic thrusts, pinning him back against the seat. “Whoa, slow down,” you say, eyes locked on his as you adjust yourself, shifting until you find the angle that makes you gasp. His cock twitches inside you, and you bite back a smirk. You know you’ve got him right where you want him now.

You flick your hair to one side, leaning back a bit, and start riding him slow, dragging it out, making sure he feels every inch. His mouth opens to say something, but you change the motion, circling your hips instead, and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat. You scoff, half laughing, half moaning. “What? Why so quiet now?”

His hands fly to the armrests, knuckles turning white as he grips the leather for dear life. You know exactly what he’s doing—trying to stop himself from grabbing you too rough, like you can’t handle it. Like you don’t want him to. But you take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, his palm practically engulfing your head. You lean into his touch, biting your lip before saying it. “Slap me.”

His eyes go wide. “What?”

“Come on,” you grind down on him again, slower, teasing. “You’ve never slapped anyone before? Right on my face. Do it.”

He looks torn, breath hitching as you ride him harder. You can tell he’s struggling to even think straight, his stomach clenching, his abs flexing under your hands as the pleasure hits him hard. But it’s your pace that’s driving him insane, the way you bounce on his cock, taking him deep, then slowing down just enough to drag it out. He’s barely hanging on.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks, “Fuck… I don’t—” He gasps when you clench around him on purpose, his hips flinching up into you, reflexive. His hand tightens on your jaw before he lets go, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can—”

“Shut up,” you whisper, eyes burning with challenge. “Slap me.” The way you’re looking at him, daring him, makes his heart pound in his chest. He hesitates for half a second, but when you grind down on him again, harder, his control snaps.

He slaps you, hard. Harder than he intended.

The sound of it rings out, followed by his shocked gasp. But you’re already moaning, your pussy clenching so tight around him that he almost loses it. He watches in disbelief as you react, the slap turning you on even more, your walls fluttering around his cock, soaking him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, staring at you, wide-eyed, as you keep riding him like nothing just happened—no, like it made everything better.

Your body jerks with each bounce, the slap leaving a burning sting on your cheek, but all it does is fuel the fire between your legs. “See?” you taunt. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He groans, the sound low and desperate. “Fuck… you’re fucking insane.” His hands find your waist again, but this time he doesn’t try to hold back. He grips you tight, fingers digging into your skin as you grind against him, circling your hips just to watch his head fall back, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut.

Every time you clench down on him on purpose, his whole body flinches, like he’s trying so hard not to lose control. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls, voice ragged. “I can feel… fuck, I can feel you squeezing me like you want me to fucking break.”

You bite your lip, eyes half-lidded as you meet his gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Joshua's thumb strokes the still-hot skin of your cheek where he slapped you. You bounce hard on his cock, the slap only making the tension between you snap tighter. His thumb lingers, gently caressing the mark like he’s making up for what he did, but you grin, biting your lip through the pleasure and ask for more;

“Slap me again.”

It’s the same voice you used when you asked him to push you harder on a swing—excited, impatient, full of that rush of adrenaline. He sucks in a breath, brows furrowed like he’s torn, but the way your pussy tightens around him makes his decision for him. His hand raises again, and this time, it lands with purpose.

Your face turns to the side from the force, cheek burning red-hot, and fuck, it burns even better than the last one. 

Your pussy tightens around him instantly, and Joshua groans. He can feel the way your body responds, how you pulse around him every time he does it. You moan, “Fuck… I think I’m gonna cum again.” The whine at the end of your sentence makes his cock twitch, and it sparks something animalistic in him.

Joshua grabs your hips, lifting you just enough to pin you down on his lap, grinding his pelvis into you so deep that your vision goes hazy for a second. You roll your eyes, barely hanging on. Before you can catch your breath, he’s flipping you onto the seat, his cock never leaving you as he lays you down, spreading your legs up and grabbing the backs of your knees.

The new angle has you arching your back immediately, hands scrambling for purchase on the seat. He starts thrusting, and it’s so hard and deep you swear your body is melting into the seat. Each snap of his hips sends a sharp lock of bliss through you, his pelvis slamming into yours, and you know anyone outside can hear the van rocking, but you don’t fucking care.

You don’t care about anything except him, the way his thumb circles your clit just as he slips it down, thumb circling the base of his cock, spreading your slickness over the throbbing nerve. Your body jerks, an involuntary sob escaping your throat.

Joshua’s never seen you like this—ruined, makeup streaking down your face, thick tears rolling down your cheeks. His grin is huge, his breath ragged as he stares down at you, fucking relentless in his pace. “Aw, look at you. You’re crying on my cock,” he coos, his voice laced with sweet mockery. He presses harder on your clit, making you squirm, and he chuckles low, shaking his head. “Such a good girl, crying for me like that. You can’t even handle it, can you?”

You let out a strangled gasp, your body writhing under him as you feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, everything inside you winding so tight. “Fuck,” you choke out, “Josh, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby,” he growls, leaning down, his mouth right by your ear now. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, gonna make a mess of me?”

You’re too far gone to answer, your head tipped back as your body reaches its breaking point. His thumb circles your clit faster, his cock hitting that spot inside you over and over, and your whole body shakes uncontrollably. You feel the coil snap inside you so hard that you almost black out, your pussy clenching around him like a vice as you cum, the orgasm ripping through you with inhuman intensity. 

You scream his name, tears streaming down your face as you sob through it, your body trembling violently as your release floods out of you, soaking his cock and thighs.

Joshua watches, mesmerized by how fucking ruined you are beneath him, and he leans down, whispering against your lips, “That’s right. Cry for me more, baby. Show me how good it feels. Look at you… soaking me like that, dripping all over me.”

Joshua's hips stutter, and you feel the unmistakable swell of his cock inside you, growing thicker, pulsing as he teeters on the edge. He pulls out suddenly, leaving you breathless as he grips his cock, jerking it against your slick stomach. His hand is tight, desperate, moving fast as his chest rises and falls in ragged breaths.

His moans are a mess—whiny, high-pitched, slipping from his throat like he can’t control them. He bites his bottom lip hard, but the sly little whimpers escape him anyway, each sound more desperate than the last. His abs tense, his whole body trembling above you, muscles tight as a cord about to snap. His eyes flutter shut, head falling back slightly as he loses himself in the feeling.

“Fuck—” he gasps, his voice breaking as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. His grip falters for a split second, and then his cock jerks hard in his hand, spilling hot ropes of cum. It spurts in thick, messy streams, splattering across your belly, sliding up toward your chest, even reaching your chin. His knees buckle slightly, and he has to grab the back of the seat in front of him to keep from collapsing, his whole body shuddering through the force of it.

He’s panting, still jerking himself through the aftershocks, and his cum keeps dripping from the tip, mixing with the sweat that’s already covering both of you. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, falling to the side as your body finally gives out, utterly spent. The van feels suffocating, the air thick and humid, making it hard to breathe as the windows fog up completely now.

Joshua’s hand is still braced on the seat for support, knuckles white, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His eyes flicker open, and when he looks down at you—covered in him, eyes heavy, body limp—you can see the disbelief, the satisfaction, and maybe even a little guilt.

But neither of you moves, too wrecked to do anything but exist in the humid silence of the van, your breaths slowly returning to something like normal.

Joshua settles into the seat next to you, staring down at you like he’s trying to make sense of everything. You both stay silent, like the weight of what just happened hasn’t fully hit yet. Neither of you moves; it's as if you need this stillness to process, to figure out what the fuck this was and where it might lead. Was it the alcohol? The adrenaline? Or maybe the tension between you two, the one you both never admitted but always felt.

He suddenly stands up, his voice breaking the silence. “Where’s your necessaire?” You barely register the question, too lost in thought, so you just point lazily toward the front of the van, your limbs too tired to follow his movements.

You hear the zipper open, the soft rustle of him digging through your things. Your legs ache from the awkward position they’re in, but before you can shift, Joshua is back beside you. Without a word, he gently lifts your legs, folding them in a more comfortable position, almost cradling you. You catch his eyes as he pulls out makeup remover wipes.

He starts with your face, wiping away the tear-streaked makeup, his touch as soft as it’s ever been. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek tenderly—the same cheek he slapped earlier, his movements extra gentle now, like he’s trying to undo any mark he left.

You close your eyes, feeling his hands glide across your skin. “You’re lucky I know how to clean this up,” he teases lightly, the sound of his voice strangely comforting. “You always were a mess after shows.”

You hum, half-laughing. “You should see me after the after-parties.” The humor doesn’t land quite like it usually does; there’s something too real now, something too intimate that makes the joke feel heavy.

He uses a fresh wipe to clean the cum from your body, starting at your chin and working his way down your belly. His touch lingers, but it’s not lustful—more like he’s making sure every part of you is taken care of, like you’re something precious. “Lift your arm for me,” he says softly, and you comply, feeling the coolness of the wipe brush under your arm and along your ribs.

When he finishes, his hand slips to your necklace, the little cross with the rhinestones—one you wear mostly because of him. His fingers fiddle with it for a second, the small gesture almost grounding, like it’s pulling him back to reality. 

“You good?” he asks finally, eyes scanning your face, like he’s not sure if he went too far, if maybe you’re more hurt than you’re letting on.

“Yeah,” you breathe, and even though you’re wrecked, there’s something warm in your chest. “I’m good.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, his touch featherlight. “You sure? You need anything else?”

You smirk a little, exhausted but still yourself. “Yeah, I need a nap.”

Joshua chuckles under his breath, still holding your necklace. “Alright, you take that nap. I’ll watch over you.” There’s something sweet in his tone, a promise hidden in the words, something you know he means more than he’s letting on.

And as you start to drift, you can’t help but think that despite everything—despite the wild shit that just happened—Joshua is still Joshua. Sweet, caring, a little too good for this world, and somehow, still your person.

[...]

The nap you took wasn’t just any nap—it was wild, like the kind where time feels like it disappears. When you finally blink your eyes open, groggy and confused, the van’s already moving, and you hear muffled voices. Your crew is in the van now, going about their business like nothing happened. Instinctively, your hands fly to your chest, covering yourself, but you’re already dressed—the same clothes from the show.

Relief floods through you, though you’re not sure why. Then you realize where your head is resting—not on the uncomfortable seat like before, but on Joshua’s lap. His thick thighs beneath you are surprisingly comfortable, his body warm against yours.

You feel him stir beneath you, his body shifting as he wakes up too. His hand brushes against your arm, and you glance up, meeting his eyes. His hair’s a bit messy, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but there’s this soft smile on his face, one that makes you feel like everything’s okay.

“Mornin’,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep, his hand absentmindedly stroking your arm.

“Mornin’,” you echo back, your own voice low and hoarse.

There’s a moment of quiet between you, the rest of the van oblivious to the weight of everything that passed between you two last night. You shift a little, feeling his thighs under you, and the memories flash through your head—the heat, the sex, the things you said and did. You wonder if he’s thinking about it too.

“You slept through everything,” he teases, his smile widening, though there’s a hint of something unspoken behind it.

You chuckle, adjusting slightly but still keeping your head on his lap. “Guess I was tired, hm?”

“Tired? You passed out,” he grins, his hand moving to gently fix your hair. “Had to dress you. Can’t have the crew thinking… well, y’know.”

Your face flushes a bit, imagining him trying to carefully dress you without waking you up. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” he says, his tone playful but gentle. There’s a pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to make you wonder what’s next, what happens after this.

You glance around at the others in the van, but it’s like they’re in their own worlds. No one’s paying attention, no one’s noticed how close the two of you are, how your head’s still in his lap, how his fingers are still brushing through your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You can get used to it, can't you?

[edgessunflower]

🔥- Fire with Stone Cold please

Ooh

Flames

Pairing: Stone Cold x Fem reader

Description: You and Steve wake up to find your home on fire

You and Steve groan after the long day from training and matches for Raw, the two of you eat dinner and head to bed. You wake up a few hours at 3AM needing a drink deciding just to grab a quick drink of water noticing the light outside from under the door thinking one of you may have left a light on until you open the door only to be blinded by smoke and screaming as flames roar towards you screaming as you fall on the floor feeling the intense heat before coughing at the smoke as you stay on the ground "Y/N?! What the hell is going on?!" you yell out for steve as you crawl to his side of the bed grabbing his foot making him relieved as he lays on the ground beside you "I don't know! I woke up to get a drink and when I opened the door I just saw smoke then the flames" you hear the crackle of the fire along with the glowing orange as steve crawls to the window opening it as fast as he can, you yell out as the flames move closer into the room making steve grab you as you crawl to him coughing roughly from the smoke flooding everywhere not even being able to see your own hand in front of you as you and steve climb onto the roof. The two of you look down when you hear yells seeing neighbors down below feeling terrified as you jump down being caught by your next door neighbor who happened to be a paramedic who immediately checked you over before the ambulance came followed by firefighters a second later, both of you are taken to the hospital immediately being treated for smoke inhalation another neighbor comes in telling the two of you that the fire was put out and the firefighters were looking to find what was the cause but so far most of the damage was the living room and kitchen later on finding out that the cause of the fire was an old electrical wire in the living room that had sparked from a leak through the roof into the attic where the old wiring was, the two of you stay with your aunt until the house was fixed and the wiring was taken out, both of you were thankful that the two of you found and got out as quick as you did otherwise things would have turned out differently making the two of you even more grateful for your lives and each other.

[puzzle-paradigm]

Curious about Like Electricity, I'm Drawn to You!

Ok so this one started fully as a joke (and still is) but for some dumb reason the second I heard the myth that ants are attracted to electricity (and cause power issues) my brain said “what if that was fire ant and Chuck?”

I don’t have like. An endgame for this I just think it’s funny. Suggestions welcome though lol, I such at endings. It’s vaguely shippy because I’m a sucker for them, but it’s mostly just. A thing to noodle on when I can motivate myself.

The next couple of stakeouts are a bust, which is kind of a mixed blessing. On one hand the power stays on, but on the other Chuck doesn’t get to know exactly what is causing them in the first place. It must have wised up and found different buildings to harass.

This is, of course, immediately proven wrong, because of course the first time Chuck skips his nighttime ritual of lurking behind the dumpster and hoping his neighbors don’t decide to throw their trash out at eleven thirty at night is the time the creature decides to make its return.

[fixtionvixen]

Sweat rolls slowly down your neck and into the frayed edges of your tshirt as you sit at the desk, trying not to look like a melted popsicle while the tiny elderly woman in front of you bemoans her hectic day. You furtively glance down at the clock on the computer screen, holding back a sigh as you see it's only been a minute since you last checked and 15 since she started talking. Most days, these customers are your favorite. Knowing that these women got dressed up in their nicest outfit, put on their shiny brooch, just to come see you made the long days worthwhile at times. But today, today it seemed as if the universe was pulling a prank on your patience level and how much you could take.

A summer storm had rolled through the previous evening, knocking out half the power in town and leaving the other half to hook up extention cords for their neighbors to use while they waited for the power companies to straighten them out. The streets were lined with bright orange cords and small gatherings in the businesses lucky enough to maintain their electricity. The bookstore however, was not one of them.

Smiling at the woman in front of you while circling around the desk, you grab the books she bought on small town romances and sexy bakers and insist you help her to the car, using the brief moment outside to breathe in the rain air and let the breeze, however warm it is, cool the sweat on your skin. You glance back inside the heated store, hearing your coworker and one of your best friends low tone describing to the electric company on the phone why a bookstore is one of the most important places for the power to be turned back on quicker, her reasons getting more outrageous the longer she's on the phone, just to frustrate the man on the other line. Waving goodbye, you make your way back onto the porch, thinking you'll just close the store to avoid starting a war with an angry electritian, before you notice your business neighbor walking towards you. Had you not been madly in love with your husband, you'd set the town gossip line on fire with this man as every romantic at heart craves a good trope like the baker and the bookstore owner.

Simultaneously thick and lanky, scruffy face that offsets their tamed hair, ripped jeans over black chucks but a white tshirt with pink frosting smeared on it, the next door neighbor was a constant contradiction that looked mean but was sweeter than his blueberry scones. He stops and hands you an orange cord you hadn't previously seen in his hands, explaining his generator allows for extra power if necessary, and he'd hate to see those books get ruined from the heat, casting a glance and smile into the store as raised voices pick back up behind you. Grateful for the offer, you immediately run into the store, past your friend who's head is now fully on the counter, no phone in side, to pull out your biggest fan and placing it near the doorway to pull in the fresh air. He stands near it, causing a cloud of flour or powdered sugar to float into the air off of him and onto the floor when the fan kicks on. He stumbles out an apology while you simply brush his words away, opening your mouth to make a horrible baker joke, only for you to watch in slow motion as your other best friend, in a hurry to make it to the store and not paying attention to the cord dropped outside, rushes up and into it, on her two feet one second and airborne the next.

Before you could make a sound, the baker with his flour dusted hands reaches out and easily catches her, wrapping long fingers around her arm and using his body to break her fall. He adjusts his grip on her, brushing back her hair from her face to look for himself that she was uninjured, knowing full well there would noy be any wounds. They both looked curiously at one another for a moment longer than necessary before they both simultaneously began awkward rambling, him asking if she was okay and apologizing for not moving the cord while she tries cutting him off to thank him for catching her and shooting you a glance that could have said anything from "did you accidentally curse me again to fall" to "when did the baker from next door become a smokeshow." Nudging your friend so she also witnesses this meet cute, you rest your chin on your hand and smirk at the scene in front of you, waving the neighbor away as he strolls back to his store, casting glances behind him only a few times to find her still shocked and staring at his ass appreciatively.

She turns to you in the doorway, mouth still hanging open slightly as her brain catches up to the last minute of her life, before she starts laughing and asking where the margaritas are. The three of you share a look of understanding, a summer day in the heat naturally calls for lime and tequila, and the store that was so unbearably warm becomes more tolerable with your two favorite humans crowding the desk and avoiding asking any questions about the interaction that just happened, waiting to see who would break first while you discuss who's place has power to host margarita Thursdays. You offer to invite the neighbor as a thanks for the power cord, earning you a snort of laughter from one and a gasp and slap to the arm in dismay from the other. Grateful you have such a wonderful set of friends, you laugh off your joke, but still notice how her gaze lingers past your shoulder and out the window that looks directly into the bakery window, perfectly highlighting the man in question. He looks up, catching her eye, and in true contradiction fashion, his face turns red as his mouth ticks up in a grin, shooting her a wink before moving out of her vision. Oh how interesting this will be!

[the-firebird69]

These guys are always around when you don't want to be and they're not there when you want to be and suddenly they're there when they have to be and I'm kind of sick of it cuz they're getting everybody ready for this it's terrible they're acting horrible and they don't know it it's going to get spoiled and ruined shortly.

-right now we have two of them running around town saying they have to move out and they're repeating it over and over and they're saying the neighbors of maniac and they say they know which one and they're hint it could be our son but then definitely not. So they're trying to get help from there and they are not succeeding it's a disaster they're not doing well you're pissing people off running around town and getting in trouble now this morning was a fiasco they caused they've been planting stuff for years trying to cause flat tires and they finally were successful and it was with the staple they found that was our sons to try and get his own money wish they won't give him and people are killing them regardless of any points it out or not so they're running around doing that and they're getting hit and it's right now and they managed to get in a couple fights and hefty ones right now they're facing charges for assault and battery Danielle on each other and it's turning into a fiasco and a daily joke but it's not funny at all he found what they did today to be atrocious and we want them to go to hell for it we need them to go to hell for it there are sun is more prepared and will be much more prepared if you have a flat or a problem we don't want to hear about it from them at all in any way. Instead of their business so we're going to shut them down and permanently and it will be very quick we're tired of all this it's taking way too long so we're going to assist it and we mean we're going to get ready to plow through their ranks after they get hit a few times and declare war on the world we're going to mobilize and assault the living s*** out of them including the pseudo f**** empire and staying in this misfits we can't stand that guy he's not helping her son sit there and threatens him every second of the day and Mac was doing it quite a bit for about 3 months and then he stopped and he said nobody is going to make it doing this and it was baby s*** and he gets roped up into stuff and they're unrelenting trying to get him to do with they do so right now we are going after these pukes for their idiocy all over the world and we're clearing out tons of devices and device making facilities and we're taking huge numbers of electric vehicles and e-bikes from them massive numbers and they are going to have to try and get their own vehicles from each other cuz they're mostly isolated and we're going to keep it that way we're going after them right now for creating a general lucid in our son's life and contaminating practically everything that means anything to him I'm very tired of these idiots and we are beginning right now the idiots have cleared their vehicles out of the parking lot in front of the house and they're vowing to go get the ambulance and fire engine and all sorts of dumb things so we are going to help our son right now

Thor Freya

Olympus

[liulouxi]

Can we control the illegal parking and charging of electric bicycles in Xi'an with a maximum fine of 50000 yuan? How to solve the problem of electric vehicle charging

Recently, the Office of the Xi'an Municipal Fire Safety Committee issued a notice on legal responsibilities for illegal parking and charging of electric bicycles.

The lesson of the "2-23 Fire Accident" in Nanjing can be described as tragic, and there is no need to elaborate on why electric vehicles are prone to catching fire here. But there are two sets of data that need to be taken seriously. As of the end of 2022, the number of two wheeled electric bicycles in China has reached 350 million, which is equivalent to owning one electric bicycle for every four people.

According to statistics from the National Fire and Rescue Bureau, electric bicycle fires reported nationwide have been on the rise for three consecutive years, reaching 21000 in 2023 alone, an increase of 17.4% compared to 2022. Among them, 80% of electric bicycle fires occur during charging, and more than half occur during nighttime charging; 90% of cases of electric bicycles catching fire and causing casualties occur in foyers, hallways, and stairwells.

In fact, in the past, Xi'an has also issued relevant policies and notices on the management of electric vehicles multiple times.

On July 1, 2019, the Ministry of Emergency Management, the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Public Security, and the Ministry of Housing and Urban Rural Development jointly issued a notice, proposing requirements for effectively strengthening the fire safety management of rental housing and campus surrounding business premises. The notice proposes to resolutely crack down on prominent issues such as electric bicycles entering buildings and households, people and vehicles sharing the same house, and flying wire charging, in order to avoid fire accidents.

Almost every time an electric vehicle catches fire, the storage of electric vehicles in the community triggers discussions, but each time it seems to be just a discussion. Is the problem of charging electric vehicle batteries really unsolvable?

Looking back at past reports, everyone has their own reasons. For example, electric car owners who don't care and have been charging at home have never had any problems. For example, some property management companies say that the yard is so large that fire exits cannot be occupied, and the space available for parking is indeed very small. Although it felt inappropriate to see it, I feel embarrassed to say it because I am a neighbor.

The most core issue is the poor quality and safety of the vehicle body and battery. The current two wheeled electric vehicle battery swapping mode can effectively solve this problem. Users can put their depleted batteries into the HEXUP battery swapping cabinet and remove the fully charged batteries, which can achieve 10 seconds of battery swapping. This can solve the fire hazard that is prone to occur during the charging process of electric vehicles. In the future, West Sixth Floor will also leverage mature lithium battery technology and the integration ability of upstream and downstream industries to provide first-class solutions for the two wheeled electric vehicle charging and swapping ecosystem, and better promote the birth of a new intelligent transportation mode of battery swapping with its own hardware foundation.

[evilminji]

Has anyone ever told you you brain is big and wrinkly and so, SO beautiful? ( ☆.☆) MAGNIFICENT! :O :O :O holy shit

Because? You fuckin CRACKED this case wide the heck open? Generations 0-1 were basically "throw EVERYTHING at the wall... see what happens" the power boom. Yeah, lot of people died to their own powers. Bodies couldn't take it.

BUT!

There was pretty equal spread of powers right? EXCEPT!!! You CANT HIDE mutant quirks! Powerful emitter? Just don't use it. Nothing here but us chickens. Mutant? EVERYONE knows. You get shot at.

Yet it's harder to control powerful skills! Easier to find. Oh no. You hear about this MIRACLE. He'll save you/your child from the roving gangs of bigots with guns! Poof! The uncontrollable power? Gone...for now.

Cause it's fuckin genetic.

And you gave him your naaaaaaame.

But! There's this group that never seems to come to him? That has probably even grouped up or runs in FAMILES. Powers that? Bare minimum? DOUBLE their man power.

He goes and makes his pitch.

They react like he offered to buy grandma.

They are holding the line BEAUTIFULLY. Quirks like dark shadow? Eat bullets and LAUGH. Come for them and die screaming, bigots. They have families to protect and everything to lose. Go away.

THEY are thriving. Slowly becoming pillars of their community. Safe havens.

....we can't have THAT.

Really it's a two for one special. New Quirk and return to the panic that gives him power. But? SECOND he takes the first one? It tries to wrap around his head and shouts for the others to "take the fucking shot!" He's lucky it misses his heart.

He has to dump it and kill them.

Whiiiiich? If we think about it? How many of the Quirks that are "strong"? ALSO fall under the category of "don't fuckin touch me"? In one way or another? Either through ease of escape or violence in close quarters?

Fire? Electricity? Knockout gas? Wings?

All responses to the gangs of Quirk hunters... and AfO on his lil Quirk hunt. He uses his HANDS after all.

Yet ALSO? This is probably why all these "random mutations" keep happening? Half are from "Quirkless" ancestors who damn well WERE NOT, and the other half are from that recessive "throw everything at the wall, see what sticks" gene? Your kid has a Lego for a head when both of you can grow flowers? Blame "Quirkless" great-grandpa "can turn self into plastic"!

When will the lies END!? Lol

It would be FASCINATING to see? Who he effected Japan and the neighboring countries? Cause like... Stars n Stripes, from what I remember(could be wrong) can bend REALITY. Doesn't, obviously, but she made herself All Might strong.

....that power is genetic.

And the likelihood of powers that thrived in response to the backlash? Being the most common? Pretty high. Like plant powers near huge forests. Aquatic powers near the sea. Agility and grip near difficult terrain. Straight up flight.

Things you can hide.

And? Oh. OH! your Nomu plan? Exactly like him a BRILLIANT. That is EXACTLY what he would do??? (Seriously. Can I borrow/use that?) It's also the perfect excuse for WHY he has to keep around something LITERALLY CALLED a "friend"!

....because OBVIOUSLY, HE doesn't need those. He does not understand the concept. They seem both pointless and annoying. Much like his brother, he does not understand WHY he is dragging this thing around with him. But it's HIS now. He has plans. Reasons. He's not giving it back.

It can struggle and rage all it likes. He's used to that. Unlike LAST time, THIS one isn't really flesh and bone. Can't ACTUALLY escape him. Die before he dies. It doesn't matter how angry it is, it WILL be loyal to him in the end. It has no choice.

Must follow him forever.

(The human need for companionship? In THIS emotionally stunted psychopath? Please, dear God no!) (More likely then you think)

He plans to wait T.I.F. out. Because you can only rage for so long. Can only scream and curse and destroy for so long. Until... until there is nothing left. The room is bare, your throat burns, and you are left hurting. Alone.

Vulnerable.

Your Will weak and body tired. Ready for soft words and kind manipulations. More flies with honey, after all. He became a GOD with such temptations.

Oh, you poor thing. Let me take care of you. Rest. Trust. Adore me.

Pain and cruelty? Easy to fight against. To harden your heart against. The loving man, who was there in your hour of need, who has given you SO MUCH, and just? Needs? One(1) tiny little thing? Can you REALLY say no? It's so small. So easy to do.

You're HELPING.

And if I remember right? He can make copies of quirks, right? If HE keeps the original (o... obviously for quality control purposes. Preservation)? That DOES beg the question I've never asked?

Would a copy of T.I.F. even... work? I mean, it WOULD work in the sense that the Quirk would FUNCTION. But? T.I.F. only retains herself because she's being TRANSFERRED. Is the Original. Once "online" as it were, she can't be "shut off" in the same way you can just turn off a SOUL.

You can pass her Quirk Core around. Put her on a shelf. Pick her up and put her down. But she is a contained, singular, entity. Herself.

But a COPY?

That... is not HER. That is something new. She is often called a stockpile Quirk. She is not. She is a reality warper. Is there build up? Yes. But that's just aging. Same as the wear and tear on statues and toys and weapons. Paint, streaked on and flaking off.

She didn't START with that. She COLLECTED that. It's not inherent to her core. Like piercings aren't to the DNA. So... if someone made a COPY of her...

That might be Some Dude.

She was Her because of Hiro. Debate on the validity of he memories aside, from the moment of blinking "awake"? She was defined by her relationship with the friends she had. The Copy will not have that. THEY will have their creator. THEIR friend.

That copy will be a different T.I.F.

Possibly a RADICALLY different T.I.F., completely different gender, appearance, skills. The works. She's not sure how she feels about that. Would they be a brother or a son? Daughter or a sister? Usurper? Evil alternate self?

What HAPPENS when you clone a sentient quirk!?

My WIP fairy hates me. But like... in that homoerotic Nemesis sorta way, I swear.

Cease an desist, woman! (I scream into the void, knowing damn well she, being my own brain, SHAN'T.)

Cause NOW? Now I CAN NOT stop Pondering, with a Capitol P, the life of a Sentient Quirk. The trials and tribulations. The indignities and sufferings. Countless micro-aggression and out right dismissal of sentience. The reduction to the EXTENSION of another.

You are not a person.

You are JUST a Quirk.

An organ that "thinks" itself separate, in the way knees spasm when struck just so. The child you are attached to just needs to get better CONTROL of you. Your words and actions are actually THEIRS. You are simultaneously an unruly animal and strange adult, not allowed near other peoples children.

Why are you trying to follow this four year old into their school? Why are you SITTING out side a pre-school? Are you stalking that child?

You are a grown adult. Connected to a random Japanese child.

The child is expected to "control" you.

Punished if they do not.

No one is listen to EITHER of you, as you try to explain the situation. The child is upset, scared, and does not have the emotional maturity to understand why you are not to blame. All they can understand is that you appeared and everything became stressful and "bad". They started getting punished. Have to share their room now.

Do you even have rights? If you get hurt, get MAIMED, what will happen to you? Can you hold a job? Own land? Open a bank account? Fuck it! Can you have a RELATIONSHIP?

If you went out RIGHT NOW and punched a purse thief, would the FOUR YEAR OLD be arrested?

If the kid grows up, becomes a hero, and you do secretarial work... does his license cover you? If YOU wanted to become a Hero, would he be your hero partner? Could he technically sit in a corner and let you work?

If no one could TELL, over an internet connection, then surely that should prove SOMETHING? Right?

And! The question NO ONE ever seems to ask!

Could..... could you LEAVE? Do people have the right to force you back? If you don't WANT to be some kid's Quirk? You're sentient. If, unlike Dark Shadow, you are not PHYSICALLY connected, but tethered by distance?

Could. You. Leave?

Just "Allright, I'm out. The way you're all treating me is unacceptable. See ya never." And walk out the door? You'd be able to gain distance as the kid grew older. As long as you hid? You be homeless, without papers, but free.

A sentient Quirk means free will. Means you don't HAVE to do shit. It's like being born with a twin, not a slave. And that Twin does NOT have to put up with your bullshit. YOU are the one asking THEM to work with you, after all.

This? Of course, ALSO just ABSOLUTELY BEGS the question? What if that four year old grew up to be a BASTARD? Just... NO self reflection or empathy. Everything is everyone else's fault, always. And they want a NEW Quirk. One that won't question them.

So they sell theirs, buy a new one. Probably die off screen trying to throw it around.

What happens to you THEN? Pain, obviously. Like... massive, massive amounts of pain. You ARE a Quirk. You're being ripped out by your metaphorical roots. By the NERVE ENDINGS. But? Do you... for lack of a better word, "reset"?

Are you back infront of "your" person? Or do you stay, safely, where you are? Both would be fascinating, honestly. Because I imagine All for One? Does NOT get sentient quirks often. If at all.

They'd sooner kill themselves.

After all, if your choice is "kill yourself and your beloved twin" or "be ripped apart and watch them die horribly, then be used to go against everything you both stood for"? You weep and promise to make it fast.

Then you make it fast.

It's... really annoying, I'd imagine, for All for One. It's not necessarily that he WANTS a sentient Quirk. But they are INTERESTING. And he likes interesting.

He also likes owning things that can't leave. Ever.

So of course he'll poke and prod at the Quirk. It will inevitably be a nightmare, either way. Because EVERY Sentient Quirk has some degree of communication aspect to it. Just because the original holder never figured it out, doesn't mean HE can't.

And while your range may now be much, MUCH bigger? Because the fucker is strong as hell? How useful is that... if he can talk to you when ever HE feels like it? Day or night. 24/7.

And that's assuming you don't reset. God help you if you reset. Because THEN your STANDING infront of, most likely, pre-face-smash All for One. Who's looking at you like he just won a Mildly Interesting Prize and you would PREFER HE NOT. But what are you gonna do?

Walk out again?

You think THAT'S an option here?!

I mean... you can and do TRY. But, obviously not. So like? Fuck ™.

THEN the question becomes? Would YOU go to Tarturaus. Are you a hostage? Or an accomplice? You have the same level of power and authority as a cat, deliberately knocking pages of tables and cups to the floor, but... like? Oooooh~ oh yeah! THATS gonna slow him down! His empire crumbles beneath the sheer MIGHT of your petty inconveniences!

*trips the doctor again*

Fffffuck you.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Misplaced Mail - Part 2

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Mini-Series

How does Rowan respond to Aelin's comment about her using him instead of the new toy she purchased?

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Part 1 | Part 3

Warnings: Language, NSFW

4644 words

*******

Aelin’s heart pounded furiously as she leaned back against her door. The smirk she’d plastered on slipped and she stared at nothing as she heard her last words echo in her head.

You know, maybe you could help me out sometime and I wouldn’t need this.

‘You’ being Rowan, her insanely hot neighbor who opened ‘this’, the vibrator she’d ordered.

Shit. Fuck. What did she just do?

Realizing she was still holding the toy, she tossed the box across the living room and dropped her head in her hands, groaning.

Oh, Gods, she would never be able to look Rowan in the eyes again. Whatever tentative friendship they had was over; she’d thrown a dildo-shaped wrecking ball into their barely-there relationship. It didn’t matter anymore that the infatuation she had with him had slowly grown into a full-blown crush—maybe something even more—but now, there was no way he would ever speak to her again.

Shit.

And regardless of her crush, she was still his neighbor. They’d have to see each other on a regular basis and, fuck, she was going to have to move.

Before she could keep spiraling, a loud, incessant banging thundered from the other side of her door, startling her enough to jump away from the reverberations at her back.

Aelin stared wide-eyed as the knocking continued.

Obviously, it was Rowan knocking, there’s no reason why it would be anyone else, but why the hell was he here? Was he going to make fun of her? No, he wasn’t mean, and if the last few minutes were any indication he was far too embarrassed at the whole thing.

The knocking kept coming and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, and slowly walked back to her door. She stood on her toes to peer out the peephole and froze.

It was Rowan and he was staring directly at her.

He didn’t look like he did a minute ago all red-faced and fumbling for words, he looked determined. But it was hard to tell for sure through the distorted glass. What she was sure of, though, was that he was looking right at her.

Aelin ducked down and took another breath. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Normally she was cool and confident, but right now she felt like butterflies were having a circus in her stomach.

Get yourself together, Aelin.

She schooled her features and opened the door.

Rowan’s eyes connected with her’s the moment the door swung open to reveal his towering body with one arm resting on the door frame above his head.

She didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at her. She didn’t think any coherent words would come out if she tried, not given the way his eyes were filled with so much heat it almost knocked her back a step. This wasn’t the same embarrassed Rowan who moments before was blushing and stuttering. This also wasn’t the reserved and collected Rowan who she’d had conversations with and who she’d developed a massive crush on. No, this Rowan was something else.

Gone was the pink tinting his face and ears, now replaced by a predatory focus and undisguised desire. He was looking at her like she was an oasis and he was a man dying of thirst. And not a small part of her was thrilled by it.

A slow smirk spread across his face at her silence, but not willing to be outdone, Aelin drew up the courage that allowed her to make her earlier comment.

She arched a golden brow and asked, “Yes, Whitethorn?” Internally, she praised herself for how calm her voice sounded.

The smirk grew as he slowly and deliberately let his eyes drop to survey her from head to toe and back again. She felt every nerve in her body light up as if his gaze was a tangible thing washing over her.

When his eyes met her once more, he took a step forward so that he was mere inches away from her. Aelin could feel the heat of him and barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

She sucked in a sharp breath as he ducked his head low, his breath caressing her ear as he said in a low voice, “If you really want my help, then call me by my first name.”

She couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through her as his words hit their mark.

Rowan didn’t move any closer, but she could feel his breath on her skin. He was waiting for her answer before making another move, she realized—trying to see if she was serious or not. When her silence stretched out a few seconds longer, he stepped back. Aelin met his eyes and even though she could see uncertainty there, she knew her own had turned molten at his words. She didn’t think her fantasies about her neighbor would’ve ever come true, but maybe today she’d be proven delightfully wrong.

Aelin licked her lips and it was her turn to smirk as she noticed his attention zero in on the movement. His eyes snapped back to hers and she knew he understood the look of desire and lust she was giving him. A moment passed and she could’ve sworn something electric passed between them.

“Rowan.”

It was as if his name on her lips was permission and a summons because the next moment had her lips crashing against his.

Aelin felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She suddenly couldn’t get enough, and neither could Rowan, it seemed.

Her hands tangled in his hair as his hands gripped her hips, each trying to pull the other closer. Their mouths moved in synch and Aelin couldn’t get enough of the man whose hands now roamed over her body. One of his large hands drifted down to squeeze her ass and she moaned into his mouth at the feeling of it.

Rowan walked farther into her apartment, never taking his mouth from hers, and guided her backward as he slammed the door behind him. She heard the lock click and then both his hands were back on her body. He kept backing her up until she felt the cool marble of the kitchen island at her back causing her to arch further into Rowan. His low growl as her breasts pushed more firmly against him sent hot anticipation coursing through her.

Their lips kept moving together while their tongues tried to savor the taste of the other.

His hands slipped down to the backs of her things, just below her ass, and easily lifted her up onto the counter. Aelin loosed a low moan at the change in position and the thought of all the things those strong arms could do to her. She ran her hand down his muscled biceps and forearms...yes, there were lots of things he could do to her.

She brought one hand to his hair as the other clawed down his back. He made another sound low in his chest and spread her legs so he could step further into her space. His hands on her waist trailed up to graze the undersides of her breasts and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Desperate for air, Aelin broke the kiss and tilted her head back as Rowan lost no time in connecting his mouth to her jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck.

Aelin was on fire. She’d fantasized about this more times than she could count and part of her couldn’t believe it was actually happening. But as Rowan’s mouth continued to kiss and suck along her skin, and as he pressed his hips into hers allowing her to feel his hardness against her body, she knew it was real because her fantasies paled in comparison to this.

She moaned loudly when he found the spot at the base of her neck and collarbone. She felt him smirk against her skin and grip her waist tighter as he sucked a bruise to the sensitive area.

“Rowan,” she gasped and slid her hands across his broad chest and down his arms. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, forcing him off her neck long enough to take the shirt off and throw it across the room. Then she pulled his face back to hers and kissed him deeply. It only lasted a moment before he was gripping the hem of her sweater and pulling it over her head.

Rowan’s eyes turned near-feral and Aelin had never felt more thankful to not be wearing a bra.

Almost reverently, Rowan murmured, “Beautiful,” his eyes trailing over every inch of exposed skin, “so beautiful.”

The rush of heat the pooled in her core didn’t go unnoticed.

Aelin arched her back and then Rowan was on her. She dropped her head back and moaned as she tried to stay coherent through the rush of sensations. Rowan’s tongue and lips took one peaked nipple and were doing wonders at her breast while his thumb and forefinger rolled and squeezed the other one. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him to her.

Rowan bit down on her hardened peak the same moment he pinched the other and she thought she might explode just from that. She needed more. He lifted his head and began the same ministrations with the opposite breasts.

Aelin couldn’t stop her whimpers as he worked her oversensitive flesh. Her fingers tightened in his hair as his free hand splayed on her thigh, his thumb rubbing slow circles closer and closer to where she needed him most.

“Oh Gods, Rowan,” she gasped, near overloaded with pleasure and anticipation.

He released her breast with an audible ’pop’ and lifted his face to hers, smirking at her heavy breathing and lust-clouded eyes.

Aelin noticed something shift in his face and he let his smirk drop as he leaned his forehead against hers. He was still watching her with desire and need, but there was something more, too—something deeper.

“Aelin,” he rasped, and his breath fanned across her face. He raised a hand to gently cup her cheek, the gesture infinitely more tender than their actions moments before. She leaned into the touch and that seemed to reassure him as he said, “I’ve wanted this for a long time. This. You.”

Her heart stuttered as he spoke. What? He’d wanted her for a long time? She’d wanted him. Had they both just been too afraid to tell each other? Aelin searched his face for answers. He meant it. She could hear the sincerity of his voice and see it in his eyes. She listened as he kept talking while lightly stroking her cheek.

"You're funny and clever and beautiful. When we talk you get on my last nerve, but somehow those conversations are the part of my day I look forward to most."

She huffed a laugh, but Rowan said, "You're the part of my day I look forward to most."

Her throat felt tight. At a momentary loss for words, Aelin kissed Rowan softly, but with all the happiness she felt at his admission.

When she pulled away, he was still watching her. “Rowan,” his eyes shuttered as she murmured his name, “I want this, too. You, too. I have for a while.” And it was like a weight was lifted from her shoulders as she spoke the words.

Aelin’s heart leaped as a bright smile crossed Rowan’s face, and she couldn’t help but mirror it as she thought about how a mere mistake with their mail led to this. How her gorgeous neighbor had opened her vibrator and became so endearingly flustered that she made a joke about using him instead of the toy. How he’d seen the joke as what it actually was: an invitation. How they had just admitted to liking each other—apparently having done so for longer than either of them knew. And how they were both still half-naked, disheveled, and breathing hard in her kitchen.

He kissed her again and this time it was closer to the heat they shared before, but not quite. Aelin needed more, though, so she said with her normal amount of swagger, “You know, If you’d said something to me sooner,” she paused as he trailed kisses down her neck, “then I wouldn’t have had to spend so much money.”

“What?” He detached his mouth and looked at her in confusion as his hands migrated to her thighs.

She smirked, “You have no idea how much I spent on batteries ever since you moved across the hall.”

His eyes darkened and he growled before threading his fingers in her hair and tilting her head back so he could devour her mouth. This time, it was all tongues and teeth. Her hands clawed down his back as she bit his lower lip and tugged on it before slanting her mouth back over his.

Rowan stepped as close as he could get to her body and moved his hand up to the apex of her thighs. She wanted to sigh in relief as his thumb finally—finally—brushed across her clit. She didn’t sigh, but she did moan when he started rubbing small circles on her, the fabric of her leggings and panties making the fiction deliciously sweet.

Aelin could hardly think straight, but she did have the coherency to realize that Rowan absolutely knew how to multitask. One of his thumbs was rubbing circles on her clit while the rest of his hand gripped her thigh with a bruising intensity; his other hand was up massaging her breast, occasionally running that thumb over her nipple, keeping it peaked; not to mention the luxurious way his tongue was moving with hers.

Without warning, he moved his hands to the backs of her thigh and before she could protest the loss of his fingers, he was lifting her from the counter. Aelin wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed a series of marks along his jaw. She thought he’d carry her into her bedroom, but instead, he walked to the couch, apparently deciding the bedroom was too far away.

Rowan sat down on the cushion, keeping Aelin wrapped around him so she had a leg on either side of his thighs, effectively straddling him. Pressed together, they both moaned at the sensation of her nipples rubbing against his hard chest.

Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck and started rolling her hips, desperately trying to get some friction to relieve the ache between her legs. She could feel him, hard and ready, straining in his pants, and Aelin didn’t hold back her groan as she shifted her hips and felt the shape of him press against her core.

Rowan’s hands instantly flew to her hips to grip them and help move her along his hard length. He worked her over his lap a few more times before sliding his handing below the waistband of her leggings to cup her ass in his hands. When he squeezed, she let out a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper.

“Rowan, I need you.” She didn’t think she could wait much longer.

He nipped at her lip and his hands squeezed again before gripping her leggings and panties in a single hold and pulling them down, lifting each of her legs to get them off as quickly as he could.

His hands gripped her hips again but instead of staying there, he used his hold on her to lift her so she was only straddling one thigh. Almost unconsciously, her hips started rolling over his leg. She threw her head back as her naked core ground down against the rough fabric of his pants.

“That’s it.” Rowan’s guttural praise sent another wave of heat coursing through her and she struggled to keep her breathing steady as she rolled her hips faster. “Ride my thigh, baby.” His hands roughly grabbed her hips and moved her faster.

Gods, his voice was almost enough to send her over the edge.

“Rowan, yes,” her grip on his shoulders was so tight she was sure it would leave marks, but she didn’t care, not as the coil in the pit of her stomach tightened with every movement of her body.

He kept one hand on her hip and moved the other so he could rub her clit again. It was almost too much but in the best possible way. She moved faster, pushing down harder against his thigh in a desperate search for more friction. Rowan’s fingers rubbed harder and she screwed her eyes shut as the pressure inside of her built and built.

“You’re so beautiful,” He kissed her neck, “Look at you,” his mouth was right next to her ear sending shivers straight to her core. “Gods, I’ll never get tired of the face you make when you moan my name.”

She was close and his words were quickly sending her to the edge.

“That face, Aelin, is what I’ll see every time I close my eyes.”

She couldn’t respond, just moved her hips faster.

“And all those little sounds coming out of that wicked mouth,” he chuckled darkly, urging her hips to keep moving. “I have all kinds of plans for that mouth.”

She was so close, she could almost taste it—

He sucked on her earlobe, then said in that low purr, “Come for me. I want to watch you come undone knowing exactly who got you there. Come. For. Me.”

Aelin shattered.

All the tension exploded, her head fell into the crook of Rowan’s neck and she opened her mouth in a silent moan. Her legs shook as her orgasm crashed through her in wave after wave of cascading pleasure.

Rowan kept her moving, his hands never leaving her hips. He slowly brought her down from her high, continuing to mutter praises in her ear.

She smiled against his skin; her mind was fuzzy and her body aching in the most amazing way.

Aelin pressed languid kisses along Rowan’s neck. She shifted her hips and could still feel his erection pressing forcefully against his pants. At the movement, he cursed and stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her pressed against him as he hastily walked them into her bedroom.

Aelin sucked a particularly heavy bruise into the side of Rowan’s neck and decided that the low moan it drew from the back of his throat was one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard.

“Mm, Rowan,” She struggled to get out words while attaching her mouth to his skin, “I need you. Now. Please.” The last word she said was through a whimper as his fingers found her clit again before slowly sliding down to run through the juices of her dripping core.

He was still holding her up with one arm as he brought the other to his mouth to suck her juices from his fingers, keeping his eyes locked with hers and moaned at the taste of her.

She was panting; Aelin had never been so turned on. And she needed him—now.

“Ro, please” she tried to squirm in his grip.

She didn’t know if it was the desperation in her voice or the name she used for him, but suddenly she was thrown backward onto the bed, landing with a soft bounce. She laid there, soaking in the image of Rowan prowling towards her while unbuckling his belt and removing his pants and boxers. His hungry eyes didn’t leave her face as hers unabashedly went straight towards his cock as it sprung free. Her mouth watered. He was as beautiful as she imagined, and as deliciously big as he felt when she was grinding down on him.

If hadn’t needed him before—which she absolutely did—she would be desperate now—which she was.

And then Rowan was on top of her with an arm on either side of her body. He paused a moment to look at her sprawled beneath him and slowly dragged a hand down her neck, the valley of her breast, her stomach, and finally down to cup her between the legs. He smirked.

He was about to say something else, but she cut him off, “Later.” She insisted, knowing she was plenty prepared for him, “I need you inside me.” Aelin pulled him down so his full weight was pressing her into the mattress. “Side table, top drawer—condom.”

Rowan blindly reached out and grabbed the small foil from where she said it’d be. He ripped it open and rolled it on.

Aelin raised herself on her elbows and bit her lip as he stepped to the edge of the bed. He smirked again and wrapped his hands around her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed with a squeal. Rowan chuckled at the sound and smiled down at her.

She grinned back and relished in the feeling that this wasn’t awkward. As she looked at Rowan smiling above her, she knew it was perfect.

He leaned down to kiss her, deep and passionate, then pulled away and held her gaze.

"Aelin." His hands grazed her body. "Do you want me to fuck you?" She shivered as he held her gaze intently. "Do you want me to make you feel good?"

“Yes. Please, Rowan.”

He pulled her body even closer to his and lined his cock up with her entrance. He didn’t immediately push in, instead, he slid the shaft through her folds, coating himself in her slick. When his tip brushed against her clit, she let out a moan.

“No more teasing, I need—”

And then he was sliding into her. And in. And in. Her back arched and she cursed as Rowan bottomed out.

“Fuck, Aelin,” Rowan hissed from between his teeth, his brow furrowing in concentration to stay still while she adjusted. “You’re so tight. You feel so good.”

She couldn’t form words, but she lifted her hips in silent request and Rowan took that as permission to let go

He grabbed one of her legs, resting it on his shoulder, and used his hand to hold her other leg wide open. He didn’t hold back, he thrust into her with everything he had. It was as if the months of silent desire all crashed into him now and he had to show her, physically, just how much he wanted—needed—her.

He shifted the angle of her hips and then he was hitting the spot deep inside that sent her head falling back and a string of curses flying out of her mouth.

“Oh! Fuck, Rowan, yes!” She met his eyes and he turned his face to kiss her calf still resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t slow his pace as he grinned down at her, “There you are. I thought you’d gone mute on me.” She didn’t correct him by saying she’d been anything but mute. Speechless, maybe. Mute? Absolutely not.

Rowan was relentless, and she loved it. His hips kept snapping into hers sending shockwaves of pleasure surging through her. Already, she could feel another orgasm building.

One moment he was fucking her, the next he pulled fully out, gripped her hips, and flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. Rowan pulled her hips back to his and then he was spearing into her again. Aelin cried out with every thrust, pushing her hips back to meet Rowan’s movements.

Then he slowed down to a leisurely pace and she tried to get him to speed up again but then she felt him lean over her so his chest was pressed flush to her back. She shivered as he spoke into her ear.

“Are you close, Aelin?” His voice was rough from exertion. He was still moving in her but not nearly as forcefully as needed him to be. She wanted him to unleash himself, to fuck her so she couldn’t walk straight.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, fuck me, Rowan,” she gasped out.

He huffed a dark laugh and moved one hand down her front to tweak her nipple and causing her to cry out. Then his hand drifted further until he was rubbing her clit in harsh bursts. He stood back up, this time pulling her with him, so she was kneeling on the bed with him standing behind her.

She could feel herself getting there.

“You can do it. I know you can, baby.” He picked up his pace and rubbed his fingers in time with his thrusts.

Oh gods, oh gods, it was too much. It was so good.

“Look at me.” Rowan grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side to plant a wet kiss to her mouth. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head to keep herself in place as he continued to fuck her into oblivion. “I want you to look at me when you come. I want you to know who made you feel this good.”

“You,” Aelin gasped, “You, Rowan. Gods, You.”

She felt her orgasm climb higher. She was right on the cusp of something incredible and she wanted more, needed more.

As if he could sense that she was right on the edge, he moved the hand that was gripping her hip down to her entrance where he kept thrusting relentlessly.

“You’re doing so well.” Another kiss to her neck. “I’m going to help you do even better.”

His middle finger gently brushed the place where his cock was thrusting inside her and—while still using his other hand to rub her clit—pushed his finger inside her along with his cock.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder and he continued to kiss her neck, while she let out a broken moan at the added stretch as he fingered her and fucked her simultaneously.

It felt so gods damned good.

“The next time you touch yourself,” his voice sounded especially strained in her ear, but she couldn’t focus on anything beyond the sensations he was making her feel. “I want you to think of me. To remember how good I fucked you, and how hard I made you come.”

His words were her undoing.

Aelin screamed as released barreled through her. Her legs shook and it was only Rowan’s arms around her that kept her from falling on her face. She felt his thrusts falter and then he cursed as he came, filling up the condom as her walls fluttered around him.

He held her against his body until he could steadily set her down on the bed and slowly pull out of her.

She whined softly at the sudden emptiness, but a moment later Rowan was there lying on the bed next to her and pulling her into his arms.

When she opened her eyes, Rowan was already staring at her with a soft, post-sex, dazed grin.

She knew she didn’t look any less dopey with her smile.

Rowan ran a soothing hand down her arm, gently pulling her closer to him. “Are you okay?” The concern in his face made her heart flutter.

“Better than okay,” Aelin rested an arm across his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, “that was amazing.”

She could help a small giggle that escaped as Rowan grinned at her praise.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the day I moved in and saw you outside your door watching as I was moving boxes."

She raised a brow and smirked, “well, I’ve wanted you to do that ever since you moved in and I watched you effortlessly haul those boxes around."

He huffed a laugh and said, “Get coffee with me tomorrow.”

Aelin smiled broadly and tucked herself even closer into Rowan’s side. “It’s a date.”

*****

Taglist:

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[bump1nthen1ght]

Year of the Ox (Minotaur x Reader)

Pairings: Gender Neutral!Reader/M!Minotaur

Genre: Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, First times

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only) ahead

Word Count: 3243 words

Summary: On the night of the annual new year's festival, you decide to treat your Minotaur neighbor to some new experiences.

“____, have you finished rolling those croissants yet?” The exasperated sound of your mother’s voice bounces off the small kitchen walls, shocking you out of your daydreaming and jerking your body into motion. On the counter besides you lies 40-something flat triangles of pastry, only one half-rolled into a semi-decent croissant shape.

“Uh, almost!” You yell towards the living room, scrambling to the cutting board.

“Those croissants have to be ready by tonight, darling! We can’t be the only family not bringing something to the festival!”

“I’m on it right now, ma!” You shout, pushing up your sleeves as you begin to roll.

It’s not as if the task is difficult, only mindless, the kind of busy-work that forces your mind and eyes to wander. Wander to the open window above the sink, right into the neighboring field of crops. Right where your next-door neighbor and friend, Gavin, is tilling the field.

Frankly, this shouldn’t be an issue. A couple of years ago, when you were saddled with this exact task on this exact day, you’d send Gavin a wave and be on your merry way. Maybe the two of you would shout a couple sentences to each other, making small talk about tonight, but that was it.

But now, your brain willingly deep fries itself with every glance, every peak, out onto his family’s property.

Although the winter has brought some chill, farming is still backbreaking work, one that leaves Gavin slicked with sweat and giving the occasional grunt as he digs in a shovel or hoe. His top button is undone, revealing a toned, chestnut fur-covered chest. And those pants, my god those pants, seemed to hug every perfect curve of his thick legs and butt, his long tail swaying back and forth as he worked. Every noise he makes sends a shiver down your spine.

To say Gavin underwent a “growth spurt” in the past year would be an understatement by a landslide. At only 23, he now stood over two heads above you, with a giant set of horns and a barrel-like chest. His thighs easily doubled the size of yours and his arms looked like they could rip a lumber log right in half.

Your hands continue to roll nothing but air as you find yourself lost in the contours of his muscular back, which push and pull under his shirt, giving a good picture of what lies behind the fabric.  He pauses, straightening his posture and letting out a long sigh as he stretches his back, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. You think there might be drool coming out of your mouth, a pool of saliva you nearly choke on when he whips around, looking right at you.

As if nothing has changed, Gavin sends you a big smile, waving enthusiastically. You stick up a flour-covered hand and try to look composed.

Gavin perks up, making a rolling motion with his hands and mouthing “Croissants?”

You nod, giving him a thumbs up.

He cheers silently, clenching his fist like you just told him he won the lottery. Your family makes these croissants every year, but every year Gavin acts like it’s the greatest surprise of the season. It’s very sweet, like everything else about him.

Gavin gives you another smile and goes back to working, leaving you to pine all by yourself. You force yourself to focus on the task at hand, but even when he finishes and heads back inside, Gavin still works inside your brain.

-----------

Despite the small size of your town, the New Year’s fireworks never fail to be bigger and better than ever. It’s the one night of the year every dad is allowed to go hog wild, setting off every new, home-made firework-abomination they’ve cooked up during the holidays. But as the fireworks fire off, the blasts resonating through the shaky barn walls and their glow flashing in between the wooden boards, all you can focus is on Gavin. Gavin whose hand is on the small of your back, whose muzzle is frantically planting kisses down your neck, and whose chest you’re gripping onto for dear life as your bodies grind against each other. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine as you press your hips even closer into his, electricity weakening your news as a tell-tale bulge presses against your crotch.

With your mind hazy, you barely remember how you got here. You weren’t quite crotchety enough for your parents and a little too boring for your younger siblings, so you and Gavin often drifted away and hung out together on the New Year’s Festival. The night had been going normal, taking swigs of a spiked apple cider and wandering around the fairgrounds, although you were dressed a little nicer than usual, when Gavin lamented about having no one to kiss at midnight. A little bit of alcohol, a flirty remark from you, and things seemed to spiral from there. In no time at all the two of you had run over to his family’s barn, minds locked in a singular haze of passion.

But the why and the how mattered very little to you at the moment, especially with Gavin’s left palm slowly sneaking it’s way down to your butt, hovering over your backside hesitantly. You lean into Gavin for another kiss and grab his wrist, slapping it down on your butt and urging him to squeeze.

Even through your jeans, Gavin’s hands are rough. His fingertips just barely touch your thigh as he squeezes your cheek once more, his palm large enough to easily grab most of your ass. Gavin continues to knead until his knees hit the back of a huge hay bale, causing him to throw one of his hands back to steady himself.

It’s only when sitting that you and Gavin are face-to-face, his large thighs stretching out his work pants as you slot yourself in between and run your hands up the denim. But Gavin wastes no time in picking you up by the back of your legs and plopping you onto his lap. You rush to find his lips again, meeting Gavin halfway as you sloppily paw at his shirt, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, desperate for the feeling of his fur and muscle under your fingers.

Mind still foggy, you work up the resolve to pull away and begin tugging at the bottom of your dress shirt, untucking it from your pants and pulling it up, right until-

“Oh, shit, ____, uhm….”

You pause, peaking your head out of your shirt collar, arms still raised. Gavin looks at you, rays of moonlight catching off his horns as he breathes heavily, trying to find the words. His eyes dart from your face, your body, to somewhere in the distance as he fidgets. You slowly pull your shirt down,  pressing a hand against his cheek. “Is everything alright? We can stop if you-”

“No! No, I don’t want to stop. Definitely not. I mean, uh, if you want to stop we can, I just-”

You thumb brushes over Gavin’s cheekbones, reaching up your forefinger to sweep away the stray hairs that had fallen over his eyes. This time of year his coat is extra thick, Gavin’s hair a curly mess of locks that fall just past his snout. You could never decide which look you prefer; When he pulls his hair up into a work-bun, or when he lets it messily hang over his shoulders. But in this moment, all you can focus on are Gavin’s beautiful brown eyes, even as he avoids your gaze.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Gavin clenches his eyes shut, wincing for an oncoming reaction.

“...Oh.” You mutter, blinking quickly as you mull over this revelation. Gavin looks at you from under his eyebrows, a strong blush traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Not anything? With anyone?” Gavin shakes his head. His hands play with a stray piece of hay, betraying his anxiety.

You’re shocked, Gavin is one of the most handsome bachelors in town, one you’ve been pining after for months now, but try not to let it show. While you yourself aren’t necessarily a connoisseur of sex, you’ve still had your fair share of encounters, even in your small hometown.

You quickly realize you’ve left Gavin alone with his thoughts for a solid 30 seconds, right after he told you something he is clearly nervous about. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you straighten your posture and stand up. Gavin’s eyes follow you, small hints of fear and anxiety within them. You lean down and give him a long kiss on the lips, before pulling away and whispering in his ear.

“I want to make you feel good. Would that be okay?”

Gavin gulps, nodding against you, fingers digging into your blouse as you press another kiss behind his ear. Then on his jaw, and slowly move down his neck, leaving a trail of affection until you hit his collarbone.

You pull away and Gavin moves to sit up, but you press a solid hand on his chest and press him back down, sliding down his thighs and onto your knees. Gavin gulps as your hand travels down his abdomen, fingers dancing on his happy trail before lightly tracing over his growing hard-on. Once you’ve reached his crotch, you take your time squeezing and admiring Gavins muscular quads, not bothering to hide how aroused he’s made you. You want him to know how hot he is, how desperately you want to ravish him, have him ravish you.

Your eyes focus on his bulge, licking your lips as you slowly tip-toe your fingers to his zipper.

“If you need to stop, let me know okay? Seriously, I want you to feel comfortable.”

Gavin shakily nods, letting out a surprised groan as you palm his cock through the denim. He throws his head back as you slowly undo the zipper with one hand, the other continuing to tease and rub his dick as his boxer briefs are revealed. You slowly lean down and press a kiss to his groin, forcing another low moan out of him. Behind him, you hear the flicks of his tail against the hail bale as you give his dick another kiss. With slow movements, you finally pull on his underwear down to the top of his thighs, revealing his cock.

You had expected Gavin to be….well-endowed. But my god, nothing could compare to seeing it in person. It’s long, thick, the tip of it hitting just underneath his belly button as it presses up and out of his boxers. His balls are also large, carrying a familiar sweaty musk from long days of farmwork. Saliva begins pooling in your mouth.

Apparently you got lost in your own thoughts, staring at his cock and pondering in what way it could fit in any part of you, as Gavin sucks in a deep breath and asks,

“Is it-Are you good?” His whispers, voice trembling with pent-up pleasure. You give a wordless nod, snapping yourself out of your own self-consciousness and lock eyes with Gavin. He may have the dick of a sex-god, but this was still his first time. You send him a reassuring smile.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. Your cock is really nice.” Gavin’s whole face flushes an even darker shade, his ears twitching and his tail flicking with embarrassment.

“R-really? U-uhm, thanks. I guess I never-hngh!” Gavin’s front lurches, his throat tripping on coherent sentences as you press a kiss to the base of his cock, hand’s running up to his inner thighs. You pull back, but only an inch.

“Was that okay?”

“Y-yes, yes, yeah that was-uhng-that was good.” Gavin stammers, throwing a hand through his long hair. It brings a small smile to your face. “C-could you do it again?”

You nod once more, pressing a longer, slower kiss to Gavin’s cock. A hot stream of air pushes out of his nose and he stutters a low ‘fuck’ as you slowly begin to lick up the underside of his dick. One of your hands moves from massaging his legs to tentatively fondle his balls. In your periphery you can see his big hands clench around the hay, another deep moan coming from his chest. Your fingertips barely touch around the circumference, a bolt of heat shooting down your abdomen as you feel the size of him in your hand. A myriad of dirty images, fantasies and positions fly through your mind, but you steady yourself and focus on the task at hand.

Gavin’s breath steadily increases as you continue to jerk him off, lightly suck at his head and play with his balls. He keens and whines when you give him a particularly hard squeeze or suck, leaning his weight back on one elbow and eyeing you in between his messy hair.

“Shit, s-shit, that feels so good. Right there, please.” Gavin begs, hands struggling to find purchase on the bale below him as you continue to tease.

You finally take the leap, lifting yourself up on your knees, and take about 2 inches of him into your mouth. Your decision is immediately rewarded with Gavin’s loud, shocked moan, catching in his throat as his legs tense up. He mutters a curse under his breath and you start bobbing up and down, slowly working your way down the many inches of his long dick. Your hand movements grow sloppy as you focus more and more on breathing through your nose and sucking in your cheeks, but Gavin doesn’t seem to mind. His adorable whimpers have raised in pitch, rowdier moans breaking in between as your tongue swirls around his shaft. You can feel the way he struggles to think of what to do with his hands, mind warped by new sensations, so you grab one of his palms and place it on the back of your neck. Gavin instinctively tangles his fingers through your hair, right before lightening his grip and avoiding pushing you to choke on his cock. You struggle down another half-inch anyway, forcing his lower-body to jolt and his hands to tighten.

For a virgin, he has rather impressive stamina, the back of your throat beginning to tire after several minutes of the intense blowjob. But Gavin’s moans and tiny pleas for “More, more, more” are music to your ears, time passing like nothing.

In your hand, you feel his balls tighten, his thighs tensing around you as his tail flickers uncontrollably.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. ____, I’m close, I’m so close.” Gavin keenes, his hips stuttering up and into your mouth as you pick up your pace. Gavin continues to stutter and whine, peppering you with compliments as his legs quiver with an impending orgasm. But at the last second, you detach with a sloppy pop, giving a light kiss to his pre-cum soaked head. Gavin’s eyes jolt open, losing his grip on your scalp as his chest heaves up and down.

“W-what-”

“You want to come down my throat, big boy?” You murmur, squeezing the base of his cock in a vice grip. Gavin yelps, hips humping into yours. “You want me to swallow a mouthful? Feel my throat around your cock as you cum?” You suck on one of his balls and Gavin’s moan is downright musical. Gavin frantically shakes his head up and down. “Uh-uh, sweetie. I want to hear you.”

You don’t know where this wave of confidence is coming from, perhaps you yourself are discovering something new tonight as well. But as Gavin looks at you, cheeks dark with embarrassment and eyes desperate for you and only you, it feels as if a spark has set off a stick of dynamite in your belly. Gavin pushes back his hair, sucking in another long breath, right before he says.

“P-please, I want to come in your mouth. ____, I need your mouth on my cock, please.”

Your smirk, immediately latching back onto his cock and quickly deepthroating him. Gavin’s hand moves on its own and presses you down even farther, tears peaking at the edge of your eyes as he presses against your gag reflex. Your hand continues it’s ministrations with his balls as you suck up and down. Gavin lets his moans out, no longer bothering to suppress them in his chest as his lower body tenses once more.

“Sh-shit! S-shit, I’m coming, I’m coming, ____ I’m comi-ing!”

Like a tidal wave, Gavin orgasms, his first shot nearly causing you to choke as it hits the back  of your throat.

Wow, I didn’t even think it was possible to cum this much.

You lock your lips around his dick as he continues to climax, filling up your mouth with his seed as he throws his body back onto the hay bale. When you finally pull off, a long stream of cum leaks down the side of your mouth, forcing you to swallow as soon as you can. With a silent and satisfactory “Aaah~”, you wipe at your chin.

Gavin lays, exhausted, on the bale. His tail weakly sways back and forth under him, his sweaty fur sticking out from his few top undone buttons. You let yourself rest back on your thighs, a little sweaty yourself, admiring your handiwork.

“That feel good?”

Gavin nods, a mindless smile on his face as he catches his breath. You chuckle at his blissed expression, giving him a solid pat on the calf.

Using his thick thighs as leverage, you push yourself up, leaning over his large form and giving him a small peck on the cheek. Gavin’s smile grows even wider and he gives you a kiss of your own, his hand lazily patting your lower back.

“Well,” You rub his chest fur, “I’m happy I could give you your first blowjob, big guy.”

You move to push yourself away, but Gavin holds you still, his one hand easily keeping you in place as he presses himself back up and onto his elbows. He pecks another kiss on your cheek.

“I’m happy too. You were really, really amazing.”

“I try my best.” Gavin chuckles, thumb still lackadaisical brushing up and down your back. “We should probably-”

“Do you-”

The two of you pause, each trying to let the other one speak their piece.You both laugh, but then you relent and let Gavin go first. His face fills with blush once more, adjusting himself and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the right way to speak.

“It��s just….that was a pretty fantastic first blowjob. And handjob, technically. Like, really great.” Gavin pauses, eyes darting from you to the ground. “I appreciate it so, so much. I was thinking that you could, uhm, maybe teach me how to-” The words stumble out of Gavin’s mouth, his hand slightly fidgeting with the back of your shirt, “Maybe you could teach me how to make you feel good? B-but only if you want to.”

You pause, slightly shocked, until you feel that tightening heat firing up in your belly, a slight tremor of excitement shaking down your limbs. You nod, just a tiny bit breathless.

“Y-yes, I would love that, Gavin.”

With a smirk, Gavin sweeps you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds onto your thighs, laying a kiss on your pulse point.

What a way to spend the new year.

[liquid-luck-00]

Seven Stages of Being thrown into Teenage Superherodom

Stage 1: Panic

@marijon-week Day 1: Blue Eyes / Identity Reveal

@t1dwarrior-of-earth

Here *** Second

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Fu made her Guardian she left Paris. The Kwamii convinced her that the stress of being ladybug and the mental, and now physical, abuse of her classmates has become too much. Her parents also noticed her shift and they supported her leaving.

This was how she found herself in Blüdhaven. She was a student at Gotham Academy, but with Gotham's high crime rate they wanted somewhere safer for her. Sure she could have also chosen Metropolis, but the commute from Blüdhaven was shorter.

She will be the first to admit that it wasn't ideal, but for her mental health it was great. And with complete honesty and sincerity she wouldn't change a thing.

You see one thing that apparently gets overlooked is that Nightwing is the resident vigilante of Blüdhaven. Even more is the fact that he happens to be her neighbor.

OK so maybe a little bit backtracking here. Marinette may have figured out that her next-door neighbor, Detective Richard Grayson, happens to moonlight as Nightwing at night.

So the building they had chosen for her was extremely safe, however they didn’t take an account Marinette's extremely packed and late work schedule. With how Marinette would still be awake in the early morning hours, and if she heard a thump of boots on the balcony next to hers regularly, she is going to look out the window eventually.

When she does, she sees Nightwing at her neighbor's apartment. Which could be one of two possible reasons why Nightwing could be there. One, his significant other lived in that apartment and he just came regularly. Or two, he lived there and assumed every sane person was asleep.

Her question was eventually answered one night when she was at the desk next to her balcony door, she heard boots like normal, but this time they were closer than normal, this time they were on her balcony.

The door moved, causing her to turn and focus on the door. That was when a male voice muttered, I thought I left it unlocked like always.

So most people would have quietly left, but she wasn't most she opened the blinds. She is pretty sure she had a stare down with him but its difficult to say because at the mask.

However after countless akuma attacks, you tend to figure out who the target is, which is what she did. Same height, same rough build, same hit and skin tone, combined with her ability to recognize figures for fashion, that gives you Richard Grayson. Without breaking eye contact she got up, stepped to the door, opened it and pulled him in, shutting it and the blinds, turning to face him. Then is when she noticed the blood near his hair line and down his neck.

“There better be an extremely good reason why this happened Mr. Grayson.” She looked innocently at him, “because I don’t know how to explain.” She gestured to him now seated at her desk. She pulled out her first aid kit and started checking him.

“How did you find out?”

“Night owl,” she shrugged. “I hear you come in every night and well um, well...”

“Curiosity got the best of you.” She nodded.

Of course this was when her phone would go off, she grabbed it, opened it, and groaned, because of course she was being called a Paris in the middle of the night, morning over there.

“You know what you're still alive, just a superficial head injury, but I have to go.” She said moving towards her bedroom when Mr. Grayson finally reacted.

“I’m supposed to… you said you were 14 right?” She nodded. “I’m supposed to let a 14 year-old leave in the middle of the night?”

“I am, I can explain in the morning.” She tried to justify, but he wouldn't let go of her wrist. So in a leap of faith, she gave him a quick rundown of the Paris situation and why she had to leave. If after this Blüdhaven had another vigilante well no one else knew why, Trixx loved it though. And she had someone who not only knew who she was but knew how to help and train her. Even if he acted more like a brother to her.

After all the eyes are the windows to the soul, and as a true guardian and a pure soul of creation, she knows that she can trust Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson’s.

- - -

It’s almost humorous that the next pair of eyes she would this come to trust were a blue so electric that they seemed to hold Lightning itself. Those eyes belong to one Jonathan Samuel Kent.

She had actually met John while in class at Gotham Academy, but nothing much more than their initial meeting and a good morning in the halls. This was pretty much because he seemed to stick with Damian Wayne, the ice Prince of Gotham. And green eyes always hurt her in the past, so she mostly stayed away from them.

However the fates had another plan for them. A group project, yay was sarcastically running through her head because of course, the two people she was partnered with happened to be two pairs of eyes that made an impression on her originally.

“So, should we go to your place, or should we go to the library, oh maybe we should go to Damien’s, or maybe mine to work on this.” Jon rapid fired at her and Damian, as they well she moved in order to talk about the project.

“I um... I’m not exactly...” she couldn’t even finish the sentence before Damian butt in.

“Tt figure this out and inform me later.” With that he go up and walked away. And go figure her assumption that everyone with green eyes were complete and total dicks is just reinforced. Because if you’ve never had a good experience with anything or anyone who shares the same traits why would it be any different now.

“Maybe we should just meet at the café or at the library just get this over with.” She got up with the bell, turned on her heel, leaving Jon sitting at the desk she just vacated.

She heard of a soft, “oh ok” as she walked away.

But of course nothing ever was easy in her life. Because the next thing she knows she hears foot falls behind her, they were actually picking up speed, and then stomps as if they were trying to stop right behind her. That was when I hand wrapped itself around her wrist making her spin and face the person who grabbed her.

In that moment she didn’t think, she reacted, she reacted like every other time one of her classmates decided to hurt her. It was a motion that came as naturally as breathing while in her civilian form, so much so that she would bet her heartbeat wouldn’t have changed. She dropped the books and book bag from her arms and shoulder lifting her arms defensively to protect her head and she pushed her shoulders forward , defend her head, in an attempt to stop a blow. But the swing never came, no weight, no pressure, no kick, no pain, just silence.

She tentatively opened her previously shut eyes eyes and looked forward, towards where the hand had originally pulled her, to the person who pulled her, she saw Jon, shocked at her reaction and then that turned to fear almost, it seemed to her, as if he was wondering if he did something wrong, if he hurt her, quickly she tugged her arm away from him and dropped to the ground and tried to pick up her items. However what shocked her was that he also dropped down and tried to help her pick up her things.

She looked up as he handed her a stack, “I forgot to ask you for your number so we can do a group chat. Are you OK?”

“Oh yeah yeah I’m fine.” She pulled a pen quickly from her bag and a sticky note, she usually uses to annotate her sketches and class notes come on, “here.” She handed him the piece of paper, Marinette got up and started to walk away again, as to not miss her next class.

By the end of the day, she found out that Jon can can text her head off. She always tries to respond to text quickly but this boy spammed the chat trying to get to know her better. If she was Damian, and she figured he did, she would’ve silenced the conversation, but it would be rude of her not answer.

Eventually they did figure out a an arrangement, Damian was going to go meet a brother after school so he wouldn’t be available meaning that she and Jon would start the project. So they decided to open a chat just between the two of them and figured it out from there.

Seeing as both of them lived outside of Gotham they decided it would be a little bit safer to meet at Marinette’s and John would leave from her apartment. And that is what they did, together the two of them left Gotham Academy after school, took the train to Blüdhaven and got into study mode. They worked in relative peace, researching and writing down ideas until there was a knock on the door. Marinette made her way up to the door, looked through and there stood Dick. So she opened the door, yet what got her attention was not just her pseudo Brother but the person who is with him. This person just happened to be the missing member of their project group, Damian.

“Hey Mari, I thought I would introduce you to my baby brother!” He beamed then noticing the other person in the room. “Hey Jon.” He greater and then took a double take “Jon!!!”

“Hey Dick, Damian.” He smiled.

“Tt. Anyone care to explain this.” Damian glared between her and his brother.

“Wow something the boy wonder doesn’t know.” She muttered under her breath, apparently it wasn’t quite quiet enough as some reacted.

“She knows?!?” Jon directed towards Dick and Damian.

“Know what?” She bit the bullet.

“Boy Wonder!?!” He seemed to shout just loud enough to get their attention. This did cause a reaction, Dick almost looked proud but Damian seemed ready to attack her.

“Okay I knew you were clever but seriously?!”

“Not the time Dick!” She moved so the kitchen island was between her and Damian. That was when something clicked Boy Wonder, Robin, Damian is Robin. Dick is Nightwing, both work with Batman. Jon heard her the others didn’t, Robin is close with… oh sweet honey iced tea. “ Dick please please tell me that I’m wrong!”

“I’m going with no your right.” Thump went her head as it fell onto the counter unrestrained.

“Why can’t my life be normal?” She asked no one in particular.

“You are a magical girl who can use the power of mini sized gods who you also protect.” Dick supplied ever so helpfully.

“Not helping!” She glared at him.

“Your life wasn’t normal long before we met.”

“Still.” She grumbled. Damian and Jon were now watching her and Dick interact as if trying to figure something out. Ping. Her phone went off. “Oh come on.” She fell back on the counter.

“Who is it this time?” Dick asked.

She tossed the phone to him. “I hate elementals.” A livestream of Stormy Weather ravaged the city of Paris.

“Cookies?”

“Cookies, I’ll be back.” He tossed her a box from her pantry. Special macaroons for the kwamii.

“Wait! Let me come with you.”

“And how many times have I told you that would be a bad idea.”

“But…”

“No, don’t make me call Honey Bee to venom you again.”

He slowly backed up and sat on the couch dragging Damian with him. “I’ll um… I’ll hold down the fort. Don’t call Goldie.”

“I won’t.” She turned to go to her room. “Oh there is fresh cookies in the jar.”

She silently transformed and portaled away. Luckily her team was already there and they made quick work of the Akuma. Meaning she was back near instantly.

“That was quick.”

“Viperion was there.”

“How many times?”

“Dunno.”

“Liar.”

“Am not.”

“You are.” Jon interjected into their bickering.

“Who’s side are you on anyways?” She asked out.

“I have no idea.”

“Great we broke Superboy.” She plopped down on the couch next to a stunned Jon. “If only… Fluff.”she smiled, and knowing that smile Dick panicked. “Fluff. Hey Fluff.”

“Oh no time travel is what got you into this time travel will not get you out.” Dick jumped landing on her keeping her seated.

“What it’s going fine?!“ Jon screamed at them, looking pretty close to a mental break down, she should know.

“You didn’t explain anything did you.” She looked on up from her position under a pile of a Dick and pillows.

“I was meaning to come up with the cookies were good and kind of had my mouthful.”

“OK great so here’s the rundown. Hello my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I was chosen at the age of 13 to wield the Miraculous of the Ladybug which grants me the power of creation and healing. I moved Blüdhaven and enrolled into Gotham Academy because of my utterly deteriorating mental health as a result of bullying in my previous school. Not to mention the magical terrorist who prays on sad or negative emotions, who happens to be using the Miraculous Butterfly or the miraculous of transmission. My partner uses the miraculous of the black cat which grants them the power of destruction, but he’s a total and complete asshole, but that’s not surprising. I was then given full guardianship of every single miraculous in the Chinese zodiac box, the most powerful of all of them the tender age of 14. I figured out that Dick was Nightwing about a month after I moved in and afterwards I have been going out into with him as he’s in as the vigilante Vulpes. And I literally just figured out you are Robin,” she pointed at Damian. “And you are Super Boy,” she pointed at Jon, “because of you’re a little outburst. I would not have figured it out otherwise! And I’m totally not I am going crazy because now there is a total of three people who know my identity in another country, no less, and I’m sure I can figure out the rest of the Bat family from here but I so I don’t want to.“ She was able to breathe now, after having explained this in just under a minute.

She looked between both Damian and Jon noticed they both looked as if she was either crazy or that certainly made a lot of sense, or a mixture of both she really can’t tell.

“You were bullied.“ Jon seemed to only take away. “That actually explains earlier.” He said just load enough for her to hear, as they were still next to each other.

“I’m not going over this again.“ She huffed, causing Dick to roll off of her laughing onto the ground and she followed suit. “You know there’s a reason I’ve always trusted blue eyes.” That was the beginning of and inseparable friendship between her and Damian, and something more between her and Jon.

None of them quite knew that at the time.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[vault-heck]

WIP Wednesday?

I don't remember when exactly, but I know a lot of my mutuals tagged me. Finally getting around to posting one and if you're reading this feel free to say I tagged you.

I'm experimenting with POV and tense for the upcoming chapters about my OC, Omen. I might re-write the first chapter of TBWFTB, but that's neither here nor there. WIP below the cut :)

Courser activity is obvious to Omen– they know what to look for. A single brush with one had been enough to burn the warning signs into their memory. 

Impossible to forget, they can listen for the snapping electricity of the relay as one might for the first whispers of a radstorm. When they see swarms of gen-1 synths swarming buildings like a school of fish, where their bodies throw deceitful glints of light, Omen knows the movements are more akin to workers assisting their queen bee.

Omen’s coat had been a gift from their mentor so many years ago. She sewed extra pockets in the lining and took it to a skilled tailor for them. A courser’s silhouette is similar– while far more cold and sterile, it was not entirely separate from the realities that constructed Omen. They could recognize it from miles away. 

It’s the closest thing to regalia that a synth can hope to have, she had said once.

Yes, it is possible to find a courser before he finds you. Anyone who wishes to survive such an encounter must become an alchemist versed in cleverness and haste. Once the relay fires, the countdown starts; there are mere seconds to assemble a plan.

Tonight, Omen eats a packed meal from their seat on the roof of the Old State House. With rumors circulating about the Brotherhood’s intentions, and findings in Goodneighbor, it behooves them to observe the town on their way back to headquarters.

It is never boring here and they prefer it to places like Diamond City where they would have a tougher go at entering as a maskless customer. Even the tired woman with the meat stand that neighbored the city gate exponentially upcharged Omen compared to the drifter in line in front of them, for the same cut of brahmin. She had muttered something about their scars and they pretended not to hear. 

The words were not meant for them anyway, they were for the vendor’s own sensibilities. In places like Diamond City, only a select few are really permitted to appear a mercenary. The inhabitants make no secret of their preference for smooth skin, but Omen thinks it would be more accurate to call it a voracious disdain for roughness, darkness.

“Eat your bloatfly,” Omen tells Ed. He perches on the edge of the roof where the breeze disturbs his breast feathers and he looks their way only occasionally, disinterested in his food. They sprinkle three kernels of corn across the serving and he continues to ignore them. Something isn’t right.

They sighed. “I sense it too.”

Cool wind tugs at their hood and whistles through shop windows below. The streets are uncharacteristically quiet; even Hancock’s men have thinned in numbers. According to their pocket watch, it is more morning than night. An inherently liminal hour, and the quietest Goodneighbor could get. 

“Scan below, then. Take your time.” It never hurts to check.

Ed doesn’t need to hear the request twice. He swoops beyond the lip of the roof with a silence that causes the corners of their mouth to hint at upward movement.

When he returns, the echo of a smile falls. The flurry of feathers is anything but subtle, and if he hadn’t found Omen he might have unleashed an emphatic caw. Instead, he soars around them in familiar formation to land on their extended arm. 

“What did you see?”

A shudder of settling feathers. Ed’s movements are urgent. “Repo.”

Gloves on, mask down. Omen quickly tucks their food against the wall to retrieve later, then hangs from the lip of the roof with no more than fingertips and the side of their foot. Just as Edgar said, a courser haunts the streets of Goodneighbor. 

In a stride towards the Old State House, he does not look up once. They are counting on it, for those at the top of the food chain rarely do.

[spiritsanddemonspodcast]

Buckle Up, Buttercups

Ed Gein: The Butcher of Plainfield

Edward Theodore Gein was born to parents George and Augusta Gein on Aug 27, 1906, in La Crosse WI. His father, George, was orphaned as a child (his parents and older sister left 3 year old George alone and never returned) which many have speculated caused trauma which made him turn to alcohol. George owned a business, but it was actually purchased by his wife, Augusta. 

As for Augusta, she was born and raised Lutheran and believed women were unclean and sinful. She made it known she was not a fan of sex (to say the least). She called it the "foul deed" and it's rumored she only had sex twice, once to conceive Ed's older brother Henry, and once to conceive Ed. She actually wanted a daughter because she was not a fan of men in general. 

When Ed was 7, Augusta moved the family from La Crosse WI to Plainfield WI, because she believed the "big city" would cause too much sin and temptation for her sons. 

She was extremely religious and incredibly controlling. She actually prevented her sons from making friends, especially with women. Instead of letting them socialize, she kept them ridiculously busy with chores around the farm and home. She had such extreme religious beliefs that she wouldn't even go to church in Plainfield because they did not have a Lutheran Church.

George and Augusta were both extremely emotionally and psychologically abusive to both Henry and Ed, yet somehow Ed became incredibly close to Augusta. So close, in fact, that it actually started to concern Henry. 

George died of an alcohol-induced heart attack, I believe, in 1940 and in 1942 Ed was sent for a physical exam for the draft for WWII. He was rejected, and sent back home to his mother and brother. 

In 1944, Henry passed away under extremely suspicious circumstances. According to Ed's story, they were out trying to put out a fire on the farm, became separated, and Ed went to get authorities. However - Ed was able to lead authorities directly to his brother as if he knew exactly where he was, which was rather contradictory of his story that they became "separated". Henry's body was not touched by the fire, but did have soot on him. The autopsy revealed bruising on the back of his head indicating that he was struck by a heavy object. 

Official cause of death, I believe, was "accidental", however there is plenty of speculation that Ed may have killed his brother in a rather biblical way (thing Cain and Abel - Cain killing his brother Abel for the attention of his parents/God - look it up if you don't know, it's one of the crazy bible cases that just make you go "who wrote this??"). 

That same year, Augusta had her first stroke and was bed-ridden for a time. Ed cared for her and kept the house and farm up to her standards. He was obsessed with his mother being proud of him.

Then in the winter of 1945, Ed and Augusta went to a neighbor's house to buy hay. Their neighbor, Smith, was out on the front porch when they came up to the house, and was beating a puppy to death with a stick. Smith was, at the time, living with a woman whom he was not related to nor married to, and as he was beating the puppy this woman came out of the house yelling at Smith to stop.

Now, Augusta, who was stupidly religious, was horrified and offended by seeing this woman at their neighbor's house (but apparently not by the mortifying sight of this jackass abusing a poor innocent puppy?? Augusta was a fucked up woman), and Ed maintained until his death that this incident was what caused Augusta's second and fatal stroke. 

She passed away in December of 1945.

Now remember - Augusta had completely isolated Ed from the entire world. So now that his father, brother, and now mother were all gone, Ed was alone. Completely and utterly alone. And still mentally very very much a child. So the house quickly became a disaster, and in 1950 still had no electricity or running water. He had to sell a lot of the property and worked odd jobs for people around town to support himself.

He boarded up all of his mother's rooms (her bedroom, sewing area, etc.) and literally never touched them again. Just left them exactly was they were the day she died. A lot of the town believed that the house was haunted, even, before Ed's crimes were discovered.

After his mother's death, Ed became obsessed with personal interests such as true crime magazines, Nazi war crimes, macabre, and tragedy articles in the news papers, etc. Which, on it's own, is not bad. Clearly a lot of people do the same (*coughcough* Bex and Ryan *coughcough*) but most of us them don't go on to dig up graves, murder people, and create ... weird things ... out of people. 

On December 8th, 1954, a woman by the name of Mary Hogan disappeared from the tavern that she owned. A lot of the community thought perhaps Ed had a crush on Mary, and that Mary reminded him of his mother. Her disappearance remained unsolved for 3 years, however Ed was always adamant whenever asked that Mary was "at the farm right now". 

Then on November 16th, 1957, Bernice Worden, a widow that owned the local general store, disappeared. When asked about the incident, Ed stated he went to the store for antifreeze. He then went back into the store and asked to see a gun. He then states he went into a "daze" and shot her in the head, drug her body out of the store and into the store's van, and drove her back to his home.

She was reported missing that same day by her son, and the police found a receipt for antifreeze on the counter, so they immediately suspected Ed. They went to the Gein farm and searched his property. They found not only Bernice Worden, but Mary Hogan's head as well, and several other incriminating items. 

Items found in the house included:

Human bones

Skulls made into bowls

utensils made out of bones

Furniture and Clothing made out of Human skin, including:

a wastebasket

upholstered chairs

corset

leggings

masks

belt made out of nipples

lips on shade drawstrings

gloves

Lampshade

Other human items:

Mary Hogan's face mask

Mary Hogan's skull

Bernice Worden's head

Bernice Worden's heart

Nine vulvae

Four noses

fingernails

So authorities were more likely to believe that Ed had killed a bunch of people far more than they were willing to believe that he had been a grave robber. Which I can kinda see, no one wants to think that there's someone out there stealing other people's bodies (but really? Is that a worse crime than murder? I dunno... I don't personally think so, but that's just me). 

Now - there were many missing persons and disappearances that investigators attempted to tie to Ed. These included Evelyn Hartley who disappeared on Oct. 24, 1953, Georgia Weckler (May 1, 1947), Ray Burgess and Victor Travis and their dog (Nov. 1952). None of them were able to be conclusively tied back to Ed as they don't fit his typical MO. He was far more likely to rob graves than murder random people. And the two women whom he is confirmed to have killed were very similar to his mother. 

Once police finally accepted that Ed was, indeed, robbing graves, they realized who his victims were.

Eleanor Adams, who had died Aug. 26, 1951, was dug up by Ed and her body was replaced with a crowbar (a fucking crowbar! What???). Mabel Everson (April 15, 1951), who they found parts of about 15" below the surface of her grave (clothing, bone fragments, her jaw, part of her skull, portion of her leg, her dental plates, and her wedding ring). There were 7 other victims, but the police did not continue digging up the graves due to Ed's claims of grave robbing having been substantiated. 

It's worth noting that during this time, it wasn't actually common practice to bury a body 6 feet below. They were actually buried about 2 feet below. Investigators were able to get to the coffins of the two victims they did dig up in about 2 hours, while the ground was frozen. It is well within Ed's ability to have dug these graves up during the night, especially since he would dig them up shortly after they were buried.

Once arrested, Ed was sent to a state hospital and examined to determine if he was sane enough to stand trial. The doctors at the time (1957), determined he had a full IQ of 99 (below average), and a verbal IV of 106, and performance IQ of 89. A quote from one doctor stated "...Not that of a well person but one with insufficient ego, immaturity, the conflict concerning identification, and possibly the presence of illogical thought processes". (Anyone surprised based off what we've learned so far? Not me.)

The doctors also noted that he had a feminine identification, bizarre religious beliefs (again, not shocked), sexually immature with strong feelings of guilt, and a tendency to project the blame of evil on some other person. 

"a very suggestible person who appears emotionally dull. Beneath that lies aggressiveness that may be expressed by inappropriate reactions that are followed by remorse and mild-mannered-ness. He is an immature person who withdraws and finds forming relationships with others difficult. He has a rather rigid moral concept which he excepts others to follow. He is suspicious of others and tends to project blame for his own inadequacies onto others. His fantasy life is immature in nature, possibly he pictures himself as a much more adequate and bigger man than he is. Sexually he is a conflicted individual and is functioning on an immature level. Guilt feelings are great and repression is put to use quite frequently in this area. In general, it appears that this is basically a schizophrenic personality with several neurotic manifestations. At this present time, he is confused and has difficulty in looking at this situation realistically."

He was also very eager to please the police, answering their questions the way he thought they wanted him to answer them. The police learned quickly they had to be very careful with how they worded the questions and not lead him in any way. 

He was found to not be mentally capable of standing trial, so he was sent to a state-run hospital to live out the rest of his life. Ed Gein died of natural causes on July 26, 1984, in Mendota Metal Health Institute in Madison, WI. He was buried in the Plainfield Cemetery in Plainfield, WI.

[kimmietea]

Double Yikes! Part 2 (Ben Hardy x Reader)

Summary: Continuation of Double Yikes! Part 1

Warnings: Uhhhh.... Well I don't want to give anything away so...Read at your own risk

Continuation of Yikes! and Double Yikes! Part 1

A/N: Ok I know it's been a LONG time coming but I believe you will all think it was well worth the wait. Now I recommend you reread the whole Yikes! series before you read this one BUT it's not necessary. I've included a bit of where we last left off so you're all not completely lost. Thank you so much for those of you how stuck by and waited this thing out. I debated on telling you all this BUT I do have an idea for anther part... Reader goes to "help" Ben babysit. I haven't started it and I have no idea if I ever will but the idea is there and I promise if I do decide to do it I will write the entire thing first before posting so no one has to wait. Ok no more rambling lets get to it! Don't forget to tell me what you think and Italics is reader thinking to herself in her head!! Enjoy!!

TagList: @borhapqueen92 @radiob-l-a-hblah @gwendolyns-stacy @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @mythicmazzellos @hardforbenhardy @onceuponadetectivedemigod @im-an-adult-ish @theprettyandthereckless @mamaskillerqueen @cupboardzllo @goliveeasy17posts @okilover02 @gwilymleeisbae @youngpastafanmug

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"Thank you Ben, I had a really great time." He took a small step forward and placed one hand on your hip, your heart sped up. His hand felt heavy and the heat coming from him being so close spread through your entire body.

"So did I. Thank you for agreeing to go out with me tonight. I never do this kind of thing but I couldn't leave your office without a definite way to see you again." He laughed a little to ease his nerves, his head leaning slightly closer to you.

Oh god ok, breath

"Well I'm very glad you did." You said, much softer than you intended. Ben had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as his eyes traveled over your face, landing on your lips. He was close and you could feel his breath across your face again, like at the restaurant. His heavy hand still firm on your hip, his thumb now rubbing along soothingly.

Please kiss me

He brought his other hand up to the side of your face, letting the tips of his fingers run over your cheekbone.

Pleeeease kiss me

You took a chance and placed your hand at the nape of his neck, letting your fingers intertwine in his hair. He smiled and licked his lips.

PAH-LEEAS KISS ME DAMN IT!

"Y/N, can I kiss you?" He whispered.

FUCKIN FINALLY!

Too afraid you'd actually say what you were thinking, you nodded. He smiled and leaned in slowly to close the space between you. You instantly felt an electric shock travel through you causing you to move closer towards him and tug on his hair. He moaned into the kiss and slid his hand from your hip to your back, pulling you flush against him.

You sighed at the feeling of him being pressed against you and your lips parted. Ben wasted no time and slid his tongue along yours. You moaned and let your unoccupied hand glide up his torso, feeling his tight muscles under his shirt to rest on his chest. Ben's hand that was near your face moved to join his other on your back.

Your entire body was on fire, your head spinning, either from the intensity of the kiss or the lack of oxygen, you weren't sure. Just when you were about to pull back to see if he wanted to move things inside, he slid one of his hands down to rest on the curve of your ass.

You whined and pushed back into his hand. He moaned and gripped your ass roughly, causing you to involuntarily snap your hips forward into his. He moaned again and finally pulled away. Ben was panting heavily, his lips were swollen and red, his cheeks flushed and warm. You were sure you looked the same.

Alright, say something cool and invite him inside

You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it.

"I can't do this." Your heart dropped and you could feel the color drain from your face.

But...but things were going so well. What happened? How did i fuck this up?

You could feel tears start to prick behind your eyes.

Do NOT cry in front of him!

“Right, ok.” You nodded sadly and stepped back, away from him. His hands fell from you and you reached for your keys.

"Wait Y/N, that came out wrong." He grabbed your hand and tried to get you to look at him. You shook your head, putting your keys in the lock and unlocking the door.

"No Ben, it's fine. You don't want to. I get it. No big deal." You managed to get out, finally looking up at him and gave him a tight lipped smile.

"But that’s just it, I do want to! Believe me, I do! God I've only been thinking about it since the moment i fuckin saw you." He laughed at himself and you felt a little better.

"Of course I want to. I mean it's obvious I want to." He gestured vaguely to his crotch where there was a definite bulge. You let your eyes glance down quickly.

God if he's that big after just a kiss I could only imagine...no no, time to focus stop it!

"But I'm supposed to be the perfect gentleman tonight, that’s what I meant, and that is definitely not the gentlemanly thing to do on the first date, as much as I'd love to." He paused.

"Maybe on the second date." He chuckled.

"You want a second date?" You asked, hopeful.

"Of course I do. I had an amazing time. You're smart, well spoken, gorgeous and funny as hell. And that kiss! I absolutely need more of that in my life." You laughed and he took a tentative step towards you. When you didn’t step away he wrapped his arms around you and you rested your head against his chest. His heart was pounding.

"Forgive me?"

You smiled up at him and nodded. He leaned down and kissed you again. It was softer this time, slower. He pulled away gently and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed.

"Can I call you tomorrow?" He whispered.

"Definitely."

Alright if this isn't happening tonight i need to go inside before i start begging

You pecked his soft lips one last time and backed away from him. He took your hand in his before you were completely out of reach.

"Now I need to try to get to my car without any of your neighbors seeing me and think I'm some perv walking around your building with a damn hard on." You barked out a laugh and covered your face with your hand. When your eyes met his again that same look from the car and the restaurant was back. The butterflies also made a comeback.

We were just making out! What's with the butterflies! He is going to be the death of me, I swear.

"Goodnight beautiful, I’ll talk to you tomorrow." He said, kissed your hand.

“Goodnight Ben.” You said and he turned to leave. You entered your apartment and leaned against the door. You let out a frustrated groan.

UGGH. Damn you and your grogeous fuckin face and your perfect gentleman shit, your perfect lips and hands.

You were beyond sexualy fusterated and kicked your shoes off, tossed your purse on the table and went to the kitchen. You looked out the window over the sink just in time to see Ben get to his car. You watched him get in but he didn’t pull away.

I wish he would just come back up here and…

You ran to your purse and grabbed your cell, pressing Ben’s number. You had an idea. It rang twice before he answered.

“Miss me already love?” He joked down the line. His voice sounded so much deeper over the phone and you clenched your legs together. You walked back into the kitchen to watch out the window. He was still there.

“Something like that.” You laughed. “About that second date you mentioned.

“Absolutely, anytime.” You smirked.

“How about in about 10 minuntes?” He laughed

Oh that laugh

"10 minutes huh? Yeah, I think i'm free. What did you have in mind?" You started to make a pot of coffee and cleaned the small pile of dishes in the sink.

"I was thinking coffee maybe? I know this great little spot, super cheap but very good and it's incredibly close by." His deep chuckle made your heart jump and a wide grin spread across your face.

"Perfect. I'm on my way back up." You watched his car door open.

"Wait, give me 10 minutes to change."

"Change? I thought we were just having coffee at your place."

"No, we are. I just want to change." You finished the dishes and went to your room to pick up the clothes on the floor and somewhat make your bed.

"No way." He laughed.

"What?" You asked confused and threw the towels from your shower earlier in the hamper.

I should stop being such a slob

"That's not fair, I can't change."

"But this dress is killing me." You took a look around the room and figured it was good enough.

"Then why did you wear it tonight?"

"Cause I look hot in it!" You explained with a laugh and went back to the kitchen to look for something to have with your coffee. He hummed down the line and it made your toes curl causing you to stumble a little.

Christ, get it together

"Yeah you do."

Mmm he better get up here quick

"You have nothing in the car?" You asked, trying not to focus on the effect his voice alone had on you. You could hear rustling as he looked.

"I have gym clothes from earlier today. Would you like me to put those on?"

Oooh Ben in gym clothes...Ben at the gym, hot, sweaty, panting...tempting

"Depends? How bad do they smell?" You joked.

"Y/N!"

"Fine fine, I won't change. I guess 'Cafe Y/N' is open for business then."

"I'll be right up." He laughed.

I love how easy it is with him

You hung up and finished getting the coffee ready and set it, along with everything else on the small table in the kitchen and put some music on softly in the background. The knock at the door came and your entire body went cold.

Oh fuck why am I so nervous all of a sudden. Get your shit together. Let’s go!

You walked to the door and your heart began to race. If you didn’t know the cause then you’d be worried you were about to have a heart attack. A few more deep breaths, a quick adjustment to your dress and a hair check before you opened the door with fake confidence.

What the shit!

He left his jacket in the car and had untucked his shirt and unbuttoned it completely so the black tank top that was covering his chest could be seen. It also looked like he ran his hands through his hair, breaking it of its hold from whatever product he had used. Or maybe that was from you during the kiss earlier. Either way he looked incredible.

Fuckin hell

“I thought we weren’t changing.” You commented as cool as possible. He laughed and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. Your knees gave out slightly and you gripped the door tighter.

“I didn't change. I altered.” He smirked.

Wow second date Ben is a little cocky...I like

“Cheater, I can’t alter mine.” You joked and moved to the side letting him in. He kissed your cheek as he passed and walked inside.

“I can think of a few ways.” He muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” You asked, smiling to yourself and led him to the kitchen.

“Oh nothing.” His cheeks were pink, his lip bit between his teeth. You took a seat at the table and Ben took the seat closest to you, then moved it even closer, the sides of your thighs touching.

“So welcome to cafe Y/N.” You gestured to the table. “Where the coffee is decent and the cookies are probably stale and expired because I don’t remember buying them.” You laughed with a shrug. Time with Ben seemed to fly by. Before you knew it an hour had gone by. Your nerves had settled enough for you two to just sit, talk and joke freely while you sipped your coffee. Neither of you had dared to touch the cookies.

Ben was telling you about an audition he had coming up when the song changed over. ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow by Roberta Flack started to play and your over anxious mind started to wander and you completely zoned out.

Things are so easy with him. It's never been like this with anyone before. I don’t want to be another notch. What if I never hear from him again after tonight?

“Y/N, you alright love?” Ben asked, pulling you out of your thoughts, his voice laced with concern.

Oh shit how long have I not been paying attention

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” You shook your head to get rid of your self destructive thoughts.

No, things are different with Ben. This won't be the last time we see each other, I can feel it.

“You sure?” He asked, one hand on the back on your chair and the other now rubbing soothingly on your thigh. You smiled and placed your hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m good. I promise. I think my hair is too tight.” You said and raised your arms to let it out of the bun. You pulled the hair tie and ran your fingers through your hair. You groaned as the tension in your head broke, relief washed over you. Because you put it up earlier when it was wet, it had dried in nice, flowing waves. You ran your hand though it a few more times before letting it settle over your shoulder. When your eyes landed on Ben again he was staring at you. A look of awe on his face. Now it was your turn to ask.

"You ok?" You asked with an amused smile.

"My god you are truly breathtaking." He breathed. It felt like the wind was knocked from you, hard to breath. Like when you were a kid roller skating and you fell on your bottom, your breath ripped from your lungs.

Well that’s different

You ducked your head, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your now red cheeks. Ben’s hand that was on the back of your chair moved to push your hair from your face and stayed on the slope of your neck.

“You don’t need to hide from me.” He said softly. The air in your small kitchen felt thick and heavy. The pull towards him that you were feeling all night was stronger now than ever. You heard the song switch over, ‘Movement by Hozier’. It only added to the charge in the room.

Perfect

His hand on your thigh moved just enough so the very tips of his fingers slid the tiniest bit under the hem of your dress. The heat from his hand spread though your entire body making you yearn for more of his touch. You pressed into his hand on your neck and he leaned forward. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck again, tangling in his hair and pulling him closer, pressing your foreheads together. His hand moved from your neck to your hair, mirroring you. His other hand moved again, now the entire length of his fingers under your dress. Your eyes slipped shut and you took a shaky breath, you moved to let your lips touch his just the slightest bit, barely touching.

“I don’t want you to think I do this all the time.” He whispered against your lips.

“I don’t.” You whispered back. He pressed the smallest kiss to your lips before returning to just resting there.

“There’s something different about you.” He confessed.

Are you a mind reader

“It’s just...it’s easy with you.”

Definitely a mind reader

“You feel it too right? Please don’t say it’s just me?” Even with your eyes closed you could tell he had a worried expression on his beautiful face. He knew just what to say to make any worries you had vanish in seconds.

“No, It’s not. I feel it too.” You felt his lips stretch into a smile before he finally pressed them to yours in a proper kiss. It was nothing like the kiss at your door, that was soft and gentle. Now it was hot, needy and a little rough. Knowing you both were on the same page had changed things, you didn't need to be so cautious and nervous anymore.

Both of your hands were in his hair, scratching his scalp and tugging at it gently only to be rewarded with the most amazing moans and groans from him. His hand moved from your hair down to your back pulling you closer to him, you would be flush against him if it wasn't for the angle you were sitting. His other hand moved to the inside of your thigh, gripping the soft flesh in his rough hand.

Come on just a bit higher

You're not sure how much time had passed but by the time he pulled away and moved to your neck, you were a panting mess. Your head was spinning as Ben nipped and kissed your neck, your breathing so uneven you could barely get any words together.

“Ben” You panted, he hummed against your skin in response but refused to detach himself. You moaned at the vibrations and you thought about how wonderful that would feel someplace else. Your hand tightened in his hair and he groaned, biting on your skin harder than before and tightening his grip on your thigh.

“Fuck, Ben.” He smirked against you and moved to your collarbone where he pressed soft kisses. The change helped to slow your breathing and stop your head from spinning so much. You tried to get his attention again.

“Ben” You managed to get out a whisper.

“What is it love?” He pulled back and looked into your eyes. They were just as stunning as the first time you saw them earlier that day. Same unplaceable green shade, only now much darker, filled with lust and desire. His face flushed and hair was a mess.

Fuck he is beautiful

“Bedroom?” You asked, hopeful. He smiled sweetly before pressing a kiss to your lips. He stood and held his hand out for you to take.

“Lead the way.” You stood on shaky legs and took his hand. You stumbled on the way to your room. Ben pressed himself fully against your back, his excitement for what was happening very evident. With his hands gripping your waist and his lips attached to your neck, you tried not to run into the door frame on your way into the room.

Once in your room Ben kicked his shoes off while continuing his endless stream of kisses and bites on your neck. He brushed your hair to one side and laid it over your shoulder, revealing your entire upper back to him. His hands gently touched and caressed the exposed skin everywhere he could. His lips flowing close behind, leaving soft kisses every place his hands touched.

Your skin was on fire, the wetness between your legs building with every press of his lips, a few more minutes and you'd feel it drip down your legs for sure. Ben moved his hands to the zipper on your dress and kissed his way to your ear.

"This okay?" He breathed and tugged on the zipper gently. You nodded, needing to feel his hands on your skin again. He slowly unzipped your dress, crouching to let his lips follow all the way to the end, at your lower back. When he stood again he brought his hands to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down. You raised your arms, letting the dress drop to the floor and pool at your feet.

Your heart was racing as you stood there almost naked. Your nerves were skyrocketing. You closed your eyes and tried to steady your breathing. You felt Ben move from behind you to stand in front of you. His hand cupping the side of your face and his thumb running along your bottom lip.

"You alright my darling?" He asked gently. You took another deep breath and nodded, opening your eyes again.

"Nervous." You explained with a slight laugh. He chuckled and stepped in close.

"Don't be." He said. With his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes even darker than before, he let his eyes glace down to your body, drinking you in before meeting your gaze again.

"You're perfect."

Fuckin wet! My god I could probably cum from his voice alone.

He ran his hands over your now exposed sides and down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You slid your hands under his opened button down and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor with your dress.

Oh pin me to the wall with those arms!

You shift your hands down to his waist, letting them skim over his muscled arms on the way. You pulled the tank up over his toned stomach and chest, he raised his arms to let you remove it and it joined the pile on the floor. Your nails scratch gently down his chest, to his waist where you made quick work of removing his belt and pants. You rubbed over his bulge and he moaned, grabbing your face and pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

You continued to rub over him, feeling him grow harder as his tongue slid against yours. His hands moved from your face to your hair, he gripped a hand full and tugged gently. You hummed and squeezed him in your hand, he moaned and let one hand drop to your wrist, stopping you.

"Bed, now." He demanded, his eyes almost black, lips red and puffy and his breathing, much like yours was erratic.

Oh fuck, yes sir!

You jumped up on the bed, head propped up by the pillows. You let your eyes drift over his body as he stood by the side of the bed. He really was a sight. Every muscle sculpted to perfection, clear soft skin, you could go on for hours really. He looked at you with that small smirk of his that you were beginning to realise only came out when he was feeling a little brash.

“What’s that look for?”

“Just…” You let your eyes slowly rake over him again while you rubbed at your thighs. You licked your lips, making a show of it, before capturing the bottom one between your teeth.

“Admiring.” You finished in a sensual tone. He brushed a hand over his chest and stomach almost self-conscious or embarrassed before he joined you on the bed and crawled up your body until he reached your lips where he kissed you again. You let yourself melt into it, into him. Completely lost in the feel of his hands on your neck and face, the slick glide of his lips on yours. You didn't notice him maneuver himself so his leg was between yours until his knee was pressed hard against your center. You moaned loudly and grounded down against him. He moved his lips to your ear.

"That's it love, I wanna hear everything you've got." He whispered and moved his lips down, kissing over your collarbone to the tops of your breasts. His hands moved to your back, unclipped your bra and removed it completely. You sighed in relief, immediately followed by a moan as Ben took a nipple between his teeth. You arched into him suddenly desperate for more. Your hands flew to his hair as he started to suck.

“Oh fuck!” The feel of his tongue combined with the sensation of his sucking was driving you wild. You could feel your wetness start to soak through your underwear. He let his teeth scarpe over the sensitive bud before replacing his mouth with his hand and switching to the other. Your hands moved from his hair to his back where you ran your nails up and down. He dropped from his knees and rutted his hips against yours. His moan vibrated through your breast and over your entire body causing you to moan in turn. The pressure in your lower abdomen was growing at an alarming rate. The slick feeling between your legs almost like a slip and slide.

Christ am I about to cum from this alone!?

"Ben please….oh god...fuck Ben, stop stop! Please." He immediately stopped and looked up at you, worry etched in his features. You were sweaty and panting wildly, eyes screwed shut.

"Oh my god are you alright?"

Unable to form any words you nodded yes.

"Bad?" He asked fearfully.

"NO!" You shot up, eyes opened wide and almost headbutting him in the process.

Smooth

"Good! Very good, almost too good. “ You laid your head back down and closed your eyes again, trying to regain your breathing.

“I just...oh fuck, I just need a second. Holy fuck that has never happened to me before. This was all about to be over very quickly." You rambled. He threw his head back and laughed.

What I would give to make him laugh every day

"Oh, I like you." He sighed and moved his hand to gently caress over the side of your face. You cracked one eye open to look at him skeptically. A grin stretched across his face.

“What?” he chuckled. You closed your eyes again and made a face.

“I like you too.” You let out a squeak as he captured your lips with his once more. This kiss much like the one at the door, slow and sweet. You moaned, your hands sliding up and down his back encouragingly. He deepened the kiss, brushing his tongue against yours with such passion it caused you to buck your hips just slightly into his.

I never want this to end

Ben pulled away placing sweet pecks to your lips before pushing himself up to his knees again.

“Shall we pick up where we left off?” You chuckled and nodded.

“Let's just stay clear of this area for right now.” You said gesturing to your chest. He hummed and brought a hand to the side of your breast and massaged it gently. A shiver ran through your body and you clenched your legs together.

“Fine, but next time I’m going to worship your gorgeous body and I’m spending extra time up here.”

Next time? Does he really mean that or is he just saying it?

“Next time?”

“Next time.” He promised leaning down to kiss you once more before trailing down to your neck. You brought your hands up to tangle in his hair as he bit at a sensitive spot.

"Oh fuck." You sighed. He hummed in response and ran his tongue over the bite.

“I can’t wait to taste you.” He muttered into your skin, breathing in and taking in your scent. You shuddered at his words and whimpered when you raised your hips and was met with nothing as he hovered above you. He brought his lips up to your ear and took your lower lobe between his teeth. With one hand holding himself up he brought the other to the side of your neck. The heavy weight on your throat made your heart beat faster and your center throb. You covered his hand with yours and pressed, he got the hint instantly and tightened his grip. You moaned, bucking your hips again.

"Are you wet for me love?" He whispered, running his tongue along the shell of your ear. Unable to think clear enough to form words you nodded and whined.

"Use your words Y/N." His grip on your throat loosened and you took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes! So wet Ben, all for you." Your voice was hoarse. He smirked against your skin.

"That's my good girl." Your hand tightened in his hair at the praise. It was then you realized that you both still had your underwear on. That one final barrier keeping you from what you wanted.

"Ben... p-please." You pleaded. Desperate to get some friction, you rubbed your thighs together. Deciding to take some pity on you, he removed his hand from your throat and ran it down your body. Goosebumps followed in his wake, erupting over your skin. His hand slid between your legs and you gasped when it settled over your mound and the coolness of his fingertips touched the spot where you ached for him most.

You groaned and started to grind against his hand. His middle finger slipped under the cloth barrier and ever so slightly through your folds, gathering some of the wetness.

"Ben come on." You bucked your hips to meet his hand as he pulled it away.

"All in good time love" He said with a grin and brought his finger up to his lips. You watched with wide eyes as he pushed his finger into his mouth. His eyes slid shut and he moaned around his finger. You had enough of his teasing and decided to move things along a little faster. You sat up as best you could and flipped you both over. You settled on top, your legs straddling his waist.

“Damn” He sighed and looked up at you in awe. You smirked and began to grind against him. You could feel his hardness growing more under you. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you closer as his hips met yours. The friction of your underwear rubbing against you was just what you needed. Before you got too close you stopped to shimmy his boxers down his muscular thighs, groaning at the site of his large cock, red at the tip and leaking. You licked your lips unconsciously and took him in your hand, he gasped and pushed himself up on his elbows to kiss you again. Groaning as you pumped him, he moaned loudly when he looked down and saw your hand wrapped around him.

The pink color high on his cheeks and the darker red spreading from his neck down his chest spurred you on. Feeling neglected you brought one hand to the front of your underwear and began slowly rubbing your clit in a circular motion. Ben’s eyes moved from your hand on him to your hand on yourself. He licked his lips and groaned at the sight. He took hold of both your wrists, stopping your motions and quickly flipped you both back to your original position. His beautiful jade eyes, impossibly dark and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, like he’s about to eat a delicious treat. He leaned down placing his lips briefly on yours before making his way south, showering your stomach with warm and wet opened mouth kisses. Your heart beating fast as he brushes his nose over your underwear, right above your mound. Your breath hitched as he places a long and chaste kiss upon it.

“Ben” You warned, having had enough of his torment. He chucked and pressed another kiss to your clothed core.

“Alright love, no more teasing.” He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, dragging them down your legs quickly and tossing them over his shoulder. He pulled your legs apart to make room for himself before he laid down on his stomach and pulled you closer to him.

“Goddamm,” he breathed, softly moving his finger up and down your folds, “You really are wet for me aren't you, beautiful? Fuck” he curses under his breath. You moved your hands to his hair and gave it a hard tug. His eyes slid shut and he let out the most pornographic growl yet and rutted his hips against the bed. You loosened your grip and just rested your hands on his head. His eyes slowly opened and traveled up your body to meet yours. You raised a questioning eyebrow, his face was red and flushed.

“So I have a thing about hair pulling.” He confessed with a shy smile.

“I see that.” Your hands raked gently through his hair. He closed his eyes and hummed at the sensation. Without warning he threw your legs onto his shoulders and lowered his head. Your breath hitched before he’d even done anything making him chuckle between your thighs, his cool breath hitting your wetness. You gasped as his tongue pressed against your clit, swirling circles on the sensitive bud. His strong hand firmly on your hips, keeping you in place.

“Hummm,” the vibration makes your whole body tremble before Ben tilts his head to nibble softly at your inner tigh, “You taste fucking amazing,” he adds before diving back in. Relishing in the feeling of your hands in his hair, he moaned against you.

“Plea- Oh, fuck.” Your voice dies in a gasp and your back arches as he delves his tongue in, caressing your most sensitive parts and it feels soft and wet and silky. It tingles and you struggle to breathe as he meticulously swirls his tongue all over. You had never been so sensitive before, so responsive.

He definitely knows what he’s doing

You notice he ruts against the mattress every so often to get some relief for himself. You smirk and give his hair a light tug. He responds with a moan and a quick rut against the bed, as if it was a reflex. You wait a few seconds and try again, same response. You went back to gently raking your fingers through his hair while his tongue worked you over. Soon you feel the familiar knot in your stomach before he pulls back a little and presses his thumb against your clit. You gasp as the change in pressure and it's good but you miss the warmth of his tongue.

"Ben" you breathe, trying to tell him but the words die out. He's there with you and seems to know exactly what you need and he swirls his tongue around your clit and you’re there shockingly fast. You’re almost there… your head sinks into the mattress and you dig your fingers into his hair, your ribs moving fast unashamedly grinding on his face at the rhythm of your breathing and you’re fucking there-

"Ben, close, I'm- I'm close." He pulled away ever so slightly, talking against you.

"Go on love, i'm not stopping at just one" His skilled tongue goes back to working wonders, sending shocks of pleasure to your core, his face deep in you, moving up and down, side to side. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he grabs hold of your thighs, pulling you even closer and you grind your hips against his face, trying so desperately to rush your release, already excited at the promise of more. Your whole body reacts to the sensations, and you’re loud as you moan and gasp and he keeps your hips steady in his hold. He groans against your wetness as he wraps his lips around your clit and begins to suck. Your legs start to shake as a wave of pleasure overtakes your senses and renders you breathless. He continues to gently lick you through your orgasm, finally pulling away when your body goes slack.

“Fuck.” You breathed out. Ben propped himself back up on his elbows so he could see you properly. A satisfied smirk on his now glistening face.

“You ok love?” He asked and even though your eyes were shut you could tell he was smiling.

I can barely think let alone answer you right now

“Y/N?” He urged when you didn't answer.

Ughh, I’ve just been pleasured to the brink of comatose, just give me a second

You just barely lifted your hand to wave him off. He chucked. His fingers began to explore. Traveling up your inner thigh gently. His soft touch slowly brings you back down from your high. They reached your folds, the tip of his index finger ran gently up and down your wet opening. Your breathing began to pick up again and you left out a soft moan.

“Alright darling, i’ll make this one quick.” He sits up on his shins and slides two of his thick fingers into you and begins to thrust at a quick but gentle rhythm. In a matter of seconds you were back to a panting mess, clenching tight around his fingers. The sound of his digits inside you filled the room, making you moan louder than before. Ben curls his fingers, as if looking for something.

“Oh, shit,” you curse between harsh breaths when he finds the spot he’s been looking for. You’re a withering heep in no time, nothing but moans and mumbles of Ben over and over again.

“Go on, nice and loud for me good girl.” The praise drives you to let out the loudest moan yet followed by a yell of his name. His fingers rubbed mercilessly against that spot deep inside you, never letting up. The endless waves of pleasure washed over you bringing you close to tears. You were so close, only needing a little more.

“More.” You managed to get out, Ben knew exactly what you needed and brought his thumb to your clit, working on the sensitive nub with the sole mission to make you come. Your core tightens and tightens and you’re a wreck. You arch your back and his fingers continue to stroke and rub until you start to spasm into climax for the second time that night. He carefully removes his fingers as you settle back on the bed. Ben makes his way up the bed via a trail of soft kisses wherever he could reach, and settles down next to you. His lips find their way to your neck and up to your ear where he whispers.

“I have something to confess...about this morning.”

This morning?

“Huh?” You asked in a slight daze.

“At the office.” You could feel his smile against you.

Oh thats right you big dumb slut, you met this man TODAY! UGGHH It’s fine, IT’S FINE, it’s fine.

“Yeah” He propped himself up on one shoulder so he could look at you. You turned your head to look at him. His face was pink and still a bit glisteny from before. His hair, a mess with a single curl hanging over his forehead. His jade green eyes, a few shades darker but bright and shining. His smile, soft, almost shy.

Fuck me up, he is so beautiful

“I umm...i heard you.” His eyes met yours. It took you a minute to realize what he was talking about.

NO! Ok ok ok, it’s fine really. Ok. See what he actually heard.

“Umm, what uh. What are you talking about?” You tried to play it cool but there was no way he didn’t pick up on the panic in your voice and on your face. He laughed, his smile bright and shining.

“Yikes.” He answered.

Ok well that’s not that bad.

The moment flashed in your head.

**“Morgan, who am i talking to today?” You asked looking down at the papers in her hand.

“Uhh…” She flipped through the papers trying to find you an answer. She stopped on one page and read over it quickly before flipping to another until she found it.

“Wow okay, it’s..” She was cut off by the door opening and your boss walked it with the man you were about to interview.

“Oh Y/N perfect, this is Ben Hardy.” He said with a smile and you looked up from the papers to lock eyes with the beautiful blonde actor.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a smile and stepped forward with his hand out to shake. His voice had a deep and creamy tone, it wrapped around you like a warm blanket, working its way under your skin where it wreaked havoc on your insides and stole your breath.

“Yikes.” You breathed you out just barely above a whisper. Morgan, standing that close, definitely heard you and her head snapped over to look at you stunned. You were never at a loss, this was really something. Your head was going a million miles a minute.**

“Also wet.” You grounded and he laughed again pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

**“Ready?” You asked Ben with a smile.

“Ready.” He answered and slid his phone back into his pocket. You watched as his eyes moved from the floor, over your body slowly and finally meeting your gaze where he licked his lips and pulled the bottom one between his teeth to bite on before letting it go and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Wet”

“What?”

“What!”

“I thought you said something.” He said a hint of blush covering his cheeks.**

Your hands were now covering your red face. Ben's fingers moved to run through your hair, doing his best to reassure you.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweets. I only had to go to the toilet because I was half hard. Honestly I was on my way to a full blown boner, I had to leave for a minute.” That made you feel a little better and you lowered your hands enough so you could just peek at him over the tips of your fingers.

“But then… I heard you and Morgan when I came back.”

“BENJAMIN!” You yelled and rolled over to hide your face in his chest. His laugh rang out in the room and he wrapped his arms around you.

**“Uggh stop please. I have never been so embarrassed. He’s so sweet and funny, and the way he talks. Not just the accent but the words he uses and how he carries himself. I just melt at the fuckin thought of him.”

“I wouldn’t be too embarrassed, he’s clearly into you as well.” She said and patted your knee.

“Yeah well if he is, he is doing a much better job of being subtle. I couldn't even tell you what some of his answers were. All I can think about when he talks is how amazing it would be to have him whisper into my neck all the dirty things he wants to do to me while his big strong hands run all over me.”

Morgan opened her mouth to say something but the sound of the door closing caught both of you off guard and you looked to see Ben standing by the now closed door.

“Everything alright ladies?” He asked with a smile and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You were sure your face was beat red.**

“Ok no more embarrassing Y/N! Bang time!” You pulled out of his arms and pushed him on his back.

“Bang time?” He laughed again. “We were just having a cute moment.”

“Yes, well cute moment over. Deal with it.” You said throwing a leg over him to straddle his waist. You leaned down, bringing your lips to his and chuckled through the kiss. His hand tangled in your hair while the other slid down to your hip and squeezed, encouraging you to move over him. You rocked your hips against him and in no time he was matching your rhythm. Your kisses grew messy to the point where you were just panting against each other's mouths. You stopped your hips and gave him a proper kiss before you sat up and began to grind against him again.

“Oh fuck.” You moaned at the new position. His hard cock was lined up with you perfectly, everything slick and hot. Ben's strong hands moved to run up and down your thighs, gripping them tightly along the way.

“My god you are so fuckin’ beautiful.” He moaned. You looked down and saw his bright red face, neck and chest. His hair, a sweaty disheveled mess. You smiled and winked at him.

“Uggh Y/N please! You’re killin me.” He begged with a wide smile. You knew exactly what he wanted. You laughed, slowed your hips and gestured to the bedside table.

“Top drawer blondie”

“Yes!” He cheered and reached back to dig in your drawer.

I love that I can laugh with you

With a triumphant smile on his face he handed you the foil packet and you placed it on him. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips before you sat back and lowered yourself onto him. As he slid inside you slowly, you felt every inch of him until he was completely inside you.

“Fuckin hell.” He shuddered out, his hand laid gently on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles. You hummed and slowly began to rock back and forth. Once you adjusted to him, he grabbed your hips and started moving you on top of him. You placed your hands on his chest to keep yourself balanced as he gathered speed and power. Soon you were bouncing with the force of his thrusts. Your thighs were burning from trying to stay up.

“Ben.” You gasped.

“Tired?” He asked. Of course he knew, you nodded. He slowed his thrusts and pulled you down so you were flushed against him. He wrapped his strong arms around you and without separating flipped you over. Your legs almost shook with relief.

“You need a minute?” He asked, still holding you close. You took a couple deep breaths before answering.

“Hell no” He laughed and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“That’s my girl.” He winked and with a groan, he sat up and pulled your tired legs up and over his shoulders pushing himself inside deeper. The new angle had his tip pressed up against that perfect spot. It took you by surprise causing your eyes to fly open and your wall clench around him. He let out a low, long grown and hung his head.

“This is going to be over very quickly.” He confessed.

“Then make it rough.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. It surprised you too but you didn’t regret it.

“Yeah?” He asked, wanting to make sure that’s what you really wanted.

“Give me what you got, lover boy.” He laughed and shook his head.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He placed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee before he started his thrusts again. He built up a good rhythm and then with all his strength pounded into you.

“Fuck yeah” You moaned and had to place your hands agint the headboard to keep from banging your head on it with how hard he was going. His strong hands gripped tight on your hips, holding you as close as possible. You were certain you would have bruises in the morning.

You could feel your core tightening again, signaling you were close to finishing.

“Ben...close” You managed to get out between breaths.

“I’m right there with you love.” He said not letting up on his thrusts. Feeling the coil tighten in your stomach, the sweat beading on your forehead, the air in the room thick and hot, making it hard to breath, you finally released with a shout of his name. Ben soon finished after you continued riding out your high. He gently pulled out and lowered your legs. He cleaned himself and you up with his discarded tank top before laying down next to you to catch his breath. After a few minutes of the two of you just laying their regrouping he spoke quietly while looking up to the ceiling.

“I uhh… also heard you and Morgan before I came into your office.”

** You went back to your office where Morgan was waiting for you.

“Oh my god pleeease tell me something happened after I left.” She begged the second you walked in the door. You laughed and shook your head.

“Seriously!” She groaned.

“I mean, I thought maybe he was going to say something but Max came in and took him to his office."

"Ugh that sucks. I thought for sure he was gonna ask you out or at least throw you up against the wall and make sweet, passionate love to you."

"Morgan!"

"What!?" She laughed and you cracked a smile. You really would be lost without her.

"Knock knock." Both you and Morgan jumped, her knocking the phone off your desk in the process, and turned to your open door to see Ben.**

“MORTIFIED!” You yelled with a laugh and rolled over to kiss him.

[zmalkarnar1]

Kuroo x Male Reader: Oblivious

Something I posted a little while back on my deviantart account. Figured I’d throw it here as I write a bit more. 

You watched as he stuffed his practice partners spike, sending the ball reeling back towards the gym floor. He landed with a cheer and a predatory smirk which gave his eyes a mischievous glint. On the other side of the net, Lev Haiba released a frustrated groan, as once again the Scheming Captain managed to shut him down. The predatory grin followed the rookie, reminding him that he was years away from being able to best the raven haired middle blocker. 

Was this really your Kuroo? Was this really your Tetsuro?  Well, he wasn't really yours, but you've known him longer than anyone here...

You were neighbors, born only days apart, and your mother and his father were close friends from their college days. And while he had his grandparents, both of you were being raised by single parents and you often found yourself in the care of his family, or him yours. Born only days apart, the two of you spent almost all of your time together. You can't remember a time you didn't know the raven haired male. But was this really him? 

"Come on Kuroo, let's go," you whined, pulling his arm and dragging him out of his house.

Kuroo just shook his head, dragging his feet across the ground as you pulled him.

“Please,” you begged, “I don’t want to go alone.”

You moved behind him and began pushing him towards the sidewalk, doing anything and everything to move to black haired eight year old.

You were shy too. You didn’t like new places, new people, lots of people. A lot of things scared you. But Kuroo. Kuroo was petrified of anything and anyone he didn’t know well. Literally froze up in class, at the park. He was so timid he made you look like the life of the party. 

“No…” he said, his voice soft, his tone begging you to leave him be.

“Please Tetsu,” you begged again, going to your knees, “I just want at least one of my friends at the field with me,”

“One of your friends? I’m your only friend,” he responded like a whip, a shy smirk on his face, hinting at what lies beneath his hardened shell. It was gone in a flash, and you only stared, stunned at the sudden crack from your oldest friend. Your only friend, as he so rudely pointed out. You smiled despite that. It was rare even you got to see that smirk, to hear that sharp wit he hid behind his walls.

“Tetsu, please. If you come….I’ll join the youth volleyball you keep asking me to. Please Tetsu,” you pleaded, making your best puppy dog eyes.

“...Promise?”

“Promise!” You yelled out in glee, dragging him to your soccer field. And true to your word, the next day you followed Tetsu, or more he pushed you into the volleyball gym and the two of you joined the youth league. And before you knew he was gone, moved away, out of your life forever. You passed the next years in near isolation. Sure you had a few friends in soccer, some acquaintances at junior high, but no one, no one who knew you so well as Kuroo. That is, until midway through your second year of high school, you and your mother packed up and moved to Nekoma, and there he was.

You smiled at the memory, but something irritated you deep down as you stared at the captain’s smirk, his teammates patting him on the back for his block. You clenched your fist, this sudden frustration seeping into your muscles as you narrow your eyes at the volleyball team. 

That smirk, that smile, is mine! I saw it first, and it is mine.

The thought flashed across your mind and vanished in a rush as you struggled to comprehend the emotions running through your body. Having no idea where the thought came from, a blush began to rise in your cheeks, and you shook your head vigorously. You returned to your book, hoping beyond hope that Tetsu hadn’t noticed. You glanced up and saw his smirk, this time aimed at you. You smiled, involuntarily. Something about his smile always drove you to excitement. Then he winked, and your cheeks heated again. He definitely noticed. Of course he did. Great. You just couldn’t wait for the sass he was going to fire your way later. 

Damn it! What is going on with me?

You stepped out of the gym into the fresh evening air, slapping your cheeks to focus yourself. You were just watching your friend’s practice. That was it.

Pull it together!

You were pacing back and forth, oblivious to everything but this electricity jolting through you, mixing with a rising frustration that made you just want to scream. You didn’t even notice the gym doors open and close behind you. 

“Liked what you saw,”

You jumped, Kuroo’s voice jolting you out of your trance. You didn’t need to see his grin. You could hear the smirk in his voice. Fantastic. Now he was going to make fun of how jumpy you were. Just fantastic.

“You’re choosing a great time to fall apart. In front of the entire team too,” Kuroo smiled predatorily at you. You didn’t notice, but his eyes looked over you. All of you.

“They all saw,” you muttered miserably

“Hard to miss your cheeks turning into tomatoes. So, did you like what you saw?”

You stared dumbly at him, mouth slightly agape, eyes open wide as Kuroo towered above you on the steps to the gym. He looked very much like a jungle cat. A jungle cat that was about to devour his prey once he was done playing with it. Was he flirting with you? No. No. This was the Scheming Captain. He was screwing with you. And you were staring right at him. Great. Just grand. Now he’ll think you’ve gone dumb. 

“You aren’t usually this slow, (nickname). Come on, did you like it?”

“Tetsu,” you growled, anger seeping into your voice. You didn’t mind his banter usually. At times it was actually endearing. But sometimes, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

Then you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anymore. A voice from deep inside you said, causing you to stumble again, your cheeks reddening once more. You clenched your fists and let out a quick yell. Oblivious to everything, you failed to notice that Kuroo took in every single detail. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, true concern replacing the confidence in his voice. He knew he might have pushed too far.

“I’m…I just need to get some rest,” you said, pushing past him to grab your stuff. “I’ll feel better tomorrow. See you later.”

Again, you failed to seem but he watched each step you took as you walked away, a knowing smile lightening his face. 

You walked home with Kenma. He must have snuck away from personal practice again. Usually when you didn’t have soccer you waited for him and Tetsu and the three of you went home together. Today, you just needed sleep, that was all. Kenma was engrossed in his game. That was fine. You didn’t want to talk anyways.

I’d just make a mess of it if I spoke anyways.

You were left to your thoughts, and by the time you neared home, you had finally calmed down. At least, until Kenma decided to open the floodgates. 

“So, when are you going to tell him?” Kenma blurted out, not looking up from his game.

“What?” you asked, confusion clear on your face.

Kenma stopped and looked up at you as if you were stupid.

“You like Tetsuro.”

It was the way he said it. Blunt, to the point, and matter of factly, that sent you stumbling over your own feet. He said it with a straight face too. And there went the walls again, the emotions breaking through and in a rush you felt the excitement, frustration, and confusion that had taken you almost an hour to wrestle under control. 

Thanks Kenma. Thanks a lot. 

“He’s my friend, of course I like him,” you say, trying to keep the blush off of your face.

Kenma looked at you with a blank face, like you were a moron trying to claim that the earth was flat. 

“I...no, I don’t like him, like him,” you stumble over your words, and Kenma just continues to stare at you, saying nothing.

“Really…” this time you weren’t even sure what you were saying. You just needed to say something to fill the awkward silence. And to make Kenma stop staring at you like that. But all he did was look at you with that deadpan stare, and your breath quickened and you waited for him to just nod his head and drop it.

“Wow.” Kenma muttered, “You’re so oblivious that not only do you completely miss his moves on you, but you don’t even realize how you stare at him with that damn goofy grin on your face,”

“I do not! Wait… his moves on me? No. That’s just Tetsu messing around,”

Kenma smacked his palm against his face, “Wow. You’re an idiot. You’re both so ignorant of each other's feelings. He’s stupid for you, and clearly you’re just plain stupid, so you’re perfect for each other. Tell him and get over this already. I’m sick of how awkward the two of you have been the past month.”

“We haven’t…” Kenma was already walking away and you were left with utter chaos in your mind and burning cheeks. You didn’t like, like Tetsu. Did you?

That night you heard pebbles knocking against your window. You knew it was him, checking to see if you were okay. But you weren’t ready for that. You pretended to be asleep, and eventually he turned in. All you could do was toss and turn, going in and out of a fitful sleep, Kenma’s words echoing through your mind. 

The three of you walked to school together in the morning, and an awkward silence rose between you. Well, you would have noticed if you weren’t falling asleep as you walked. Kuroo had asked if you were feeling any better. Too afraid to talk, you knew you’d say something stupid, you just shook your head and stared at the ground, hoping he wouldn’t see your slight blush. Small chance that. 

You broke off to your classes when you reached school, but of course, you and Tetsu just had to be in the same class. All you could do was stare at the back of his head. And then, of course, you had to scramble whenever he glanced back towards you. You knew you just made yourself look like an idiot. 

At lunch you joined in with the volleyball crowd. Not that you necessarily wanted to. It was a habit more than anything else. You sat at the periphery, back against a tree as they bantered and laughed at each other. You only half listened. You were lost in your own mind, enjoying the cool shade of the tree, staring up at the clouds about. Again, you were oblivious to Tetsu staring at you. 

“You’ve really changed, (nickname),” Kuroo said out of the blue.

You stared at him blankly, your eyes blinking. You had to stop doing that; you looked like a deer caught in headlights. Then you laughed. Loudly. And everyone turned to stare at you.

“I’ve changed?” You manage to mutter between breaths, holding your sides, “What about you…”

It was your first day at Nekoma High. You were furious; not only was it the middle of the year, but you had finally made a few friends on your school's soccer team before having to leave everything behind. You couldn’t blame your mother though. She couldn’t pass the opportunity by. It’s just, you’ve never made friends easily. You were always awkward and felt like an outcast. And just when you were finally feeling comfortable at your old school. You thought back on your elementary friend, and how everything felt so natural with him. It didn’t matter. He was long gone. 

As you reached the entrance to Nekoma, you were met by a short boy with brown hair. Really short. Shorter than you even. 

“Hey, I’m Yaku Morisuke. Are you (l/n, f/n)?”

You nodded.

“I’m in your class, and been asked to show you around. Come on,” he said, a friendly smile on his face.

“Thanks, Yaku-san,” you said, eyes to the ground, voice quiet.

You followed Yaku across the grounds of Nekoma High. Yaku spent the morning guiding you through the school. He talked constantly, but you just nodded numbly, and quietly thanked him after each stop. He even got you signed up in the soccer club once he pried out that you played. You weren’t going to join, but couldn’t find an easy way to say no, and allowed it to happen. By the time the lunch bell rang, you were ready to crawl in a corner by yourself and eat your lunch in peace and quiet, away from the eyes of the other students. Yaku was having none of it.

“You can join us for lunch (l/n). They’re a good bunch, if a little loud. Come on,”

You wanted to hide away alone, but couldn’t find a way to decline without seeming rude. Besides, he had a death grip on your arm, almost dragging you towards the volleyball club.

They were outside of the school, eating beneath a cluster of trees, casually tossing a volleyball back and forth. You took one look at them and stopped dead, stumbling to the ground as Yaku continued to pull you along. You stood back up. It couldn’t be. You had to be seeing things. But as you looked again, there he was, Tetsuro Kuroo.

He turned and saw you, and the volleyball fell to the grass below. You met his eyes, wide with shock, as were your own. Then you saw his smirk, just like when you were little, but full of confidence and charm.

“Tetsuro!” “(nickname)” You both yelled at the same time, your face lighting up with delight.

He covered the ground between you in three swift strides, picking you up and swinging you around in a tight embrace. It had been almost eight years.

“Tetsu...you’re...you’re huge,” you explain as he puts you down, unable to believe how much taller he was.

“And you’re a shrimp,” he says, his smirk growing. 

You pushed him away. Or at least, you tried to, but he was so solid. And full of confidence. You stepped back from him and glued your eyes to the ground when you realized the whole team was staring.

“This is (l/n, f/n)” Yaku said, “(l/n), this is the nekoma volleyball team. Although it seems as if you already know our rooster head over here.”

You smile at the nickname of Tetsu and give everyone a quick wave, but say nothing. Noticing your anxiety, Kuroo grabbed your arm and pulled you away.

“I’ll take him off your hands, shorty,” Kuroo called out to Yaku once you two were a safe distance away from the libero.

“(nickname), what are you doing here?” Kuroo asked when you found a secluded spot to eat.

“Well...Mom...Mom got a promotion and we had to move. We just got in the other day,”

“That’s great!” He smiled, “I’m glad you’re here. What, it’s been eight years? I’ll get you signed up for volleyball,”

“I...I don’t play volleyball anymore,” you say, a little afraid that you were disappointing him,

“Huh?” Tetsu looked confused, but it was gone in a moment, replaced by that wicked grin you saw on him before, “Oh, did you finally toughen up and join soccer?”

You nodded, “Yaku signed me up for the soccer club, but...I don’t think I’m going to go,” you said looking down, “It’s too much. But I’m relieved you’re here Tetsu. I thought I’d spend the year alone. Again.”

“Nonsense, you’re joining. You’ll feel better once you do something. Besides, you can’t be this shy for the rest of your high school career.” he said, putting his arm around you.

“Like you’re one to talk,” you mutter, blushing

“”What was that?”

“Nothing. Besides, I don’t have my cleats or shin guards with me.”

“Tomorrow then,” he said, oblivious to, or ignoring your pitiful look, “Anyways, what class are you in?”

You hand him your schedule. You were in the same class. At least you knew somebody.

“Great! I’ll take care of you from here on,” he said, brining you towards your shared class, “I’ll make you feel right at home here, just wait and see,”

You blushed, but it did feel good to have him with you. However, you couldn’t help but marvel; was this really your Tetsu?

And true to his word, Tetsu kept a close eye on you and a guiding hand nearby. Your friendship picked up right where it had been left, and Kuroo always made sure you were okay, even when you didn’t want him to. 

Like when you walked home and realized you were neighbors with him and Kenma. The next morning, before you left for school, he asked if you had your soccer gear. When you said no, he barged into your home, just like the old days, and grabbed you gear, ignoring the surprised look on your mother’s face.

“I’ll hold on to these,” he said, smirking, keeping them out of your reach so you couldn’t hide them during the day.

And at day’s end, you couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He dragged you (it seems you were going to have to get used to a lot of that), over to the soccer fields and announced that you were joining. And of course he had to take it a step further, claiming you were the best striker in the entire prefecture. Damn Kuroo. Everyday he ensured you made it to soccer before he wandered off to the volleyball gym. And he was right. You became accustomed to the team, and his volleyball crew, and, of course, got to experience the sharp side of Tetsu's silver tongue. But even then, deep down and hidden, you began to feel something more for Tetsu. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, your lips curled into a smile when he called your name. Small, subtle moments that slowly grew inside you. Little did you know how desperately he was waiting for you.

Your face heated up again as you realized the entire volleyball team was staring at you. You lowered your eyes and looked away, trying to control the red flash that was crawling across your face.

“I’m not the only one whose changed,” you said softly, looking at Kuroo from the corner of your eye.

“Will you come to practice again?” Tetsu asked.

You nodded, “Soccer is in break for now.” You had won the preliminaries and were waiting for the prefecture tournament to decide nationals. The team was taking a short break to recover after the long season, so you had nothing else to do.

“Cool,” Kurro said, and for once you noticed Tetsu’s sidelong glances at you throughout the rest of lunch. 

Damn you, Kenma, you thought as you looked away before you began blushing again. 

By the time you made it to the gym, the team was already well into practice. Tetsu gave you a big wave. Kenma just shook his head. You settled down in the corner of the gym, your book in your hands. But you found that today you couldn’t concentrate on the words. You’d muddle through the pages of the story, completely forgetting each and every word as your eyes returned to the volleyball team. Or, more accurately, to Tetsuro. You’d try to return to your book, but a paragraph later, your mind and eyes forced their way back to the Scheming Captain. You couldn’t shake what Kenma had said about the raven haired boy.

You put away the book. You weren’t getting anywhere anyways, and instead focused on the practice. Each time your eyes fell on your bed-headed friend you felt a jolt of energy, a shudder of electricity, a breath of life course through you, making your hair stand on its end. And when he’d catch you staring, he’d share his half-smile, half-smirk, as if he knew exactly the game you were playing. Somehow, as your whole body began to warm, you thought as if you were a mouse caught by this cunning black cat. 

And then he was back to his practice. To this team. His family. You’d watch with this sadness creeping into you. He was your best friend, but he had so many of his own. He didn’t need you too. As doubt touched your mind, you saw him flash his grin towards Lev, once again blocking his poorly struck spike, and all feelings of doubt and sadness fled from your mind as another feeling rushed through your veins. And no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake it. Each time he flashed his grin to his team, each time he looked at you and smiled, every time his predatory smirk was shared with another, a fire enveloped your blood. Your muscles tightened and your eyes narrowed, and finally you recognized it. Jealousy. You were jealous. 

That hunter’s smile, which you were the first to witness, to see through the cracks in his shell, that was your smile. And his team saw it everyday, all the time. They got this piece of your friend you didn’t really get to see. To feel. To experience. This competitive, strong, cunning young man before your eyes wasn’t yours, and you teemed with envy. You didn’t try to hide your blush as you watched Tetsu play. You couldn’t have if you tried. Maybe you did like Kuroo. 

You waited for them after practice this time. It was the weekend, and Tetsu, Kenma, and yourself had a long sleepover planned. You had the new Fifa game, Kenma a new JRPG, and Kuroo had a new horror movie he wanted to watch. However, of course Kenman just had to drop out. Great. Now you’d be alone with Tetsu. You promised in your head that the next time you could corner Kenma you were going to strangle him. He was doing this on purpose, the bastard. Which is how you ended up alone with Kuroo as he put the dvd into your T.V. You hated horror. Did he remember how you much you hated blood after all these years?

You were both sitting on your bed as the movie descended into darkness. You screamed and covered your eyes, feeling Kuroo’s hand on your shoulder, and then wrapped around your body to calm you down. You didn’t fight it, or the blush that began to grow on your face. It felt so natural. And it felt right when he pulled you closer, and you hid in his chest as the terror in the movie rose to its climax. And in the midst of the madness, with your trembling in Tetsu’s arms, he finally found the courage to speak to you.

“I love you.”

He didn’t. In the middle of a horror movie which had you trembling. He didn’t. But this was Tetsuro. He was a dork. Of course he did.

You didn’t respond, only looked up into his eyes. There was no predatory smirk this time. No, there was something more. You could see the genuine care, the love, in his eyes, the fear of your refusal, the gentleness that hid beneath the teasing and provocation. You could feel his vulnerability as he pulled you down onto your bed, laying you on your back as he straddled you between his legs. His beautiful eyes searched deep into your (e/c) eyes, and you felt all the confusion flee from your mind. Instead, a fire, a heat, a desire coursed through your veins and your entire body shook with anticipation as he moved his lips towards yours. It was soft. Ever so soft, but as he pulled away, you needed more. More. So much more. You grabbed onto his head, hands coursing through his messy black hair, and pulled him back down into a kiss that sent chills rushing through your body. And all the tension that had filled your mind and muscles broke free with each kiss he placed on your lips, your neck. And with each touch from his hands across your skin you felt all your fear fade away. When he finally pulled back, his teeth gently pulling at your skin, you saw in his eyes, and knew. You definitely liked Tetsuro Kuroo.

“I love you,” you breathed back.

And then you saw it. His relief. His care. His love. And you see the vulnerable, timid boy you once knew. A side of Kuroo no one else was allowed to see, to know, to touch. Only you. They could keep his smirk, his confidence. Because you had something more. Because you knew you had the real Kuroo; the boy who needed your reassurance, who needed your hands, who required the safety of your arms. No one else could see that. Tetsuro Kuroo was all yours. 

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Just an idea that has been pulsing through my mind. I haven't really written anything like this before, so I hope you like it. Sorry if Kuroo is a little OOC. Enjoy.

[truecrimecrystals]

Heather Radcliffe (28) and her daughter Kira Radcliffe (6) were brutally murdered inside their own home during the early-morning hours of December 9th, 2006. Their murders remain unsolved to this day. Heather was raising Kira in Gainesville, Florida. Many described Heather as friendly, hardworking, and straightforward. She worked at a tree-trimming company and was the boss to a team of employees. Heather was also described as a loving and dedicated mother. In December 2006, she was looking forward to celebrating the Christmas holiday with Kira. Unfortunately, before they could, their time got cut short. Police and the fire department were called to Heather's home around 6:30 AM on December 9th, after a neighbor noticed that flames were erupting from the roof of the house. It was initially believed that the fire was caused by an electrical issue. Tragically, upon closer inspection, it became clear that this was not the case. After the fire was put out, authorities searched the house for any victims. Kira was found first, near the living room just inches away from a phone. It appeared that the little girl had tried to call for help. Heather was found in her bedroom. Their dog was found in the office with the door closed. Investigators also noticed that the fire had two separate starting points. The first starting point was in Heather's bedroom; the ignition point being her mattress. The second starting point was in Kira's bedroom. An autopsy confirmed that Heather had been shot three times-once in the chest and twice in the head. It's believed that Kira was awoken by the gunfire, and that the assailant attacked Kira after she tried to use her mother's phone to call for help. It's also believed that the killer left their house and then returned shortly thereafter with gasoline to start the fires. Kira died of a combination of both strangulation and smoke inhalation. Years have passed without any answers in their case. Investigators looked into Kira's father, but he was cleared after his alibi was established. Investigators also looked into Heather's also ex-boyfriends and her male employees, but so far no arrests have been made. However, investigators have revealed that Heather and Kira were likely killed by someone Heather knew and allowed into her house. Heather's loved ones revealed that she often put their dog in the office when she was expecting a visitor. Additionally, the front door was unlocked. Even knowing this information, a motive for Heather's murder remains unclear. This case is still open, and Heather and Kira's loved ones are hoping to see justice some day. If you have any information that could lead to the killer, please call (352) 372-7867 to submit an anonymous tip.