#tried to see who it was but it was so packed there was no way of knowing who it was

[redeemingvillains]

tea leaves on christmas eve - mattheo riddle

summary: you and mattheo agree to have your tea leaves read as a joke, not expecting the surprising message they'd reveal.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: merry christmas, my loves! this is the fluffiest, softest thing i have ever written, and that's saying something ♡

The frosty air nipped your cheeks, carrying with it the scents of the holiday that surrounded you: peppermint, pine, and woodfire as you strode through Hogsmeade at eventide. The sky was turning a deep shade of midnight blue and rich violet which made the myriads of strung white lights hanging from the rooftops and doorways appear like stars twinkling around you.

Your boots crunched and crinkled in the packed snow alongside the eager footsteps of your friends who were laughing and joking with one another as you ambled along the annual Christmas market, enjoying the streets lined with vendors selling food, ornaments, and every twinkling bauble and treat you could imagine.

Your eyes dazzled as you took it all in, so idyllic and festive, but despite the enticing sights and sounds you felt your gaze continually drawn to the boy at your side, because it was simply impossible not to stare at him...

...The way his chestnut curls peeked out from underneath his hood, the way his long, dark lashes batted against his cheeks which were rosy from the cold, the way he was smiling, widely, genuinely, in a way that reached his amber eyes.

He was so handsome you felt a tug in your heart, a gravitational pull towards him that trying to defy felt like swimming against a fierce current, but as usual, you stuffed the feeling down, deep within you and tried to appear normal, happy and friendly. Mattheo was one of your closest friends, and even if you did have a raging crush on him, you'd never act on it. You could only imagine what Blaise or Pansy would say if they found out, let alone Theo and the others, you shook your head imperceptibly in an attempt to empty the thought from your mind.

You and Pansy dragged the boys from booth to booth, and despite their mumbles and groaning, you could tell they were enjoying it as they indulged in the endless amount of treats from peppermint sticks to chimney cakes and roasted chestnuts and they passed a flask between themselves to keep warm.

Theo had just taken a long sip from the small metallic container when his face broke into a wide smile and he nodded his head to a booth just ahead of you.

"Oi, look, they dragged the poor old bat out here" he laughed as your gaze followed his to see Professor Trelawney in a booth all her own.

Faded tapestries and multicolored shawls were draped around the booth and tasseled rugs covered the floor, creating a mini replica of the Divination classroom, but the only light coming from within shone from a host of low-burning candles that were dripping wax dramatically onto every available surface.

The sign above the booth announced that she was reading tea leaves, though it was starkly empty unlike the other booths that were crowded with patrons, and she was deeply focused on a crochet that looked an awful lot like an outfit for a cat.

"Gods she's a lunatic" Draco muttered.

"Truly mental" Theo agreed.

"You won't go over there and ask her to read your future" Draco dared, shoving Theo's arm.

Theo got a wicked smile on his face.

"I've got a better idea" he said. "Let's send Riddle instead, she's obsessed with him, always telling him about the dark and miserable ways he's going to die."

"Absolutely not" Mattheo said quickly with a non-humurous laugh.

But the idea was out and running on its own now.

"Ahaha yes mate! Please I need to see this" Blaise chimed in as the guys began to push Mattheo towards the booth, egging him on.

"Fucking not today" Mattheo groaned even as he laughed and swiped the flask from Theo's grasp, chugging it heartily before Theo snagged it back.

Mattheo wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, his lips gleaming with the remnants of firewhiskey, you noted, when he caught your eye and grinned mischievously at you.

"Do it with me?" he asked, nearly pleading. "I can't face her alone."

"Fine, fine" you said, smiling at his pout, pushing him along in front of you as your friends followed closely behind.

Your group crowded into the small booth, nearly shoulder to shoulder. The smell of incense and old books overtook you as Trelawney glanced up, surprised to see anyone, let alone seven of you in front of her until her eyes landed on Mattheo and she jumped in excitement, the crochet falling to the floor, forgotten.

"Oh! Come in my dears, yes, yes, let me–" she said, flustered, knocking things over in her haste to situate herself as Draco snickered and Pansy elbowed him in the ribs.

Mattheo moved to sit on one of two large poufs that lined the low table in front of the professor and he yanked you down beside him. You sent him a look of mock defiance, but truthfully you were glad to feel his warmth next to you and your breath caught in your lungs as he pulled his hood down, his playful smile dancing in the candlelight in a way that brought a deep flush to your cheeks that you hoped he couldn't see.

"Here you go" Professor Trelawney said, bringing you back to the present moment as she placed two fragile tea cups in front of you while a matching teapot hovered over the table, pouring warm liquid into both.

"Thank you, Professor" Mattheo said charmingly and she smiled broadly at him, whether completely enamored by his good looks or dark fortune, you couldn't say.

"Drink, drink!" she said encouragingly, gesturing to the tea.

You glanced sidelong at each other and you caught him rolling his eyes subtly as you both leaned forward and you took a long sip of the tea. It was herbal and a little bitter with a lingering taste of peppermint.

"That's quite good, thank you, Professor" you said kindly, as Mattheo nodded in agreement.

You placed your cups down and she cleared the table before pulling them closer to her. She closed her eyes and inhaled and exhaled vigorously, dramatically several times. You could feel one of the boys behind you shaking with stilted laughter before her eyes flew open, magnified by her glasses, giving her the appearance of a crazed owl as she grasped Mattheo's cup with both hands, staring deeply at the remains of his tea leaves.

"Mmm, yes, yes, just as I feared" she murmured. "Dark and mysterious, Mr. Riddle, very, very dark indeed. You are in grave danger."

Mattheo cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his laughter.

"Oh, wow, of what Professor?" he asked, egging her on.

She turned the cup in her hands, eyes flickering to him and back to the cup again with a nervous smile.

"Well...the leaves...don't say, my dear, just know it's very dark and very grave. There will be misfortunes and hardships–" she carried on and on and you caught Mattheo's eye as he mouthed subtly, silently to you, "So many misfortunes and hardships" and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as he smiled.

"What about Ms. YLN here, Professor?" he interrupted finally, pulling Trelawney out of her stupor.

She smiled awkwardly, placing Mattheo's cup down reluctantly, before she cleared her throat and picked yours up, adjusting her glasses and blinking several times.

"Right, let's see" she said.

She peered into your teacup and her face scrunched almost immediately. "Well, I..." she started, before turning the cup this way and that before setting it gently down on the table, glancing back at Mattheo's cup and then up at the two of you.

Her expression was rather serious, and an unusual quiet settled on the group in a way that sent a small shiver through you, raising the hairs on your arm.

"Professor?" Mattheo asked, nearly a whisper, prompting her.

She reached for his cup, pulling it next to yours, and looked at them closely side by side.

"It's the faithful heart" she said finally, looking up from the cups to the two of you and for once her eyes expression wasn't manic, but calm, reassured.

"Sorry?" you asked, like any of you were supposed to know what that meant.

She slid the cups back to you and you both leaned forward. Immediately, you could see what she had seen: the remnants of the leaves in each cup held half a heart, that when placed side by side formed one.

"The meaning may seem obvious" she said, leaning forward, letting her fingers trace the patterns "but it represents two halves of a whole soul, one not fully complete without the other, two spirits destined for one another, destined to understand each other in a way no one else can or ever will, two hearts destined to beat as one."

You realized suddenly that you had been holding your breath because fuck if that wasn't exactly how you felt about him. You realized, too, that your friends were quiet, stone silent, like you could actually hear the snow that had begun to fall outside.

"It's rare" Professor Trelawney said, sitting back in her chair, smiling as she glanced between the two of you, "extraordinary."

Your cheeks were warm and though you'd remembered how to breath, the air felt heavy, a stifling mix of incense and Mattheo's cologne that when combined with the tea in your veins made you feel like your head was swimming. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and unwavering.

"Well, th-thank you, Professor" you said, flushing even deeper at the shake in your voice as you stood to leave and could feel the others come back to life besides you. "I hope you have a happy Christmas" you muttered quickly as you stepped out of the booth and back into the chilly air, grateful for the gust of cool wind to clear your mind.

Pansy came to stand beside you as the boys bustled ahead of you, joking and laughing once again.

Theo waited until they were out of earshot of the girls before he slung an arm around Mattheo's neck, pulling him into his side.

"Mate, I don't know you how did it, but you are a fucking artist at work, let me tell you!"

Mattheo stumbled in Theo's firm grasp, the motion jolting him out of the reverie of the snug booth, of the mint on his lips, the warm tea pulsing through him, and the look on your face in the flickering candlelight as you listened to the professor tell you you were meant for him. He felt excited, nauseous and anxious in equal measures.

"W-what?" he asked Theo.

"I know you've fancied YN for just about as long as you've known her" he said, glancing behind them cautiously before continuing, "but paying Trelawney to tell her you're soulmates? I mean that shit is romantic bro, you almost had me there."

"I didn't—" Mattheo started to say, but was interrupted as Blaise threw his arm around Mattheo from the other side, sandwiching him between them.

"I need a fucking drink after that. Broomsticks?"

"Yes!" Theo chanted in reply and they hauled Mattheo along as his mind continued to swirl, and he desperately tried to catch your eye.

The Three Broomsticks was packed with a loud and jolly crowd seeking solace from the biting cold as night settled over the town.

You miraculously found a curved wooden booth big enough for all of you, and as you slid in you found yourself directly across from Mattheo, though you managed expertly to avoid his gaze.

You could tell he was trying to catch your eye, but you couldn't bring yourself to acknowledge him, because if you didn't look at him, you could pretend for just one moment longer that everything Professor Trelawney had said was true, that he could look at you like your souls were tethered together and not like you were one of his best mates.

You made every effort to focus on the conversation around you as your friends talked about holiday plans and new years parties, but it was proving impossible not to dissect everything the professor had said, to re-evaluate everything you knew about Mattheo, to start to see things in a different light.

You thought about how protective he was of you, even moreso than the other boys which was a feat in itself. He sat next to you at every meal, in every class. It wasn't unusual for him to reach for you if the corridor between classes was crowded or if you were in a public place, like he needed to make sure you were safe and by his side. He wouldn't ever let you walk in the castle alone at night, even if that meant falling asleep in the library besides you. But he always quick with excuses and explanations... "There was a fucking basilisk in here five years ago. Nice try, YLN, I will walk you to your dormitory thank you very much."

You thought about your first Christmas at Hogwarts, how you went home and he stayed here and how awfully you'd missed him, about how when you came back, he'd scooped you into his arms, grasping you tightly, not letting go, about how you resolved to spend every Christmas after that together. It didn't seem weird, it was the way you and Mattheo worked, it was just easier to be together than it was to be apart. But was it easier to be together or simply impossible for you to be separated?

Finally, you thought about how over the last 6 years neither one of you had dated anyone, and not for lack of ample opportunity on both sides, how your friends constantly nagged you about it. You blew it off, you were too busy with your studies, clearly. And Mattheo was too busy with quidditch.... Right?

"—YN, YN!" you focused back on the present as Pansy nudged you urgently at your side. "We're getting another round, do you want one?" she asked.

"Sure" you said blearily, dreamily, but as you slid to follow your friends out of the booth and stand in the crowd, you found yourself face to face with Mattheo who had stayed behind to find you, and suddenly there was no escape from his wide, brown eyes or the small smile on his lips as his gaze traced your face, eagerly drinking in the attention he'd been seeking from you for the last hour.

He said something you couldn't hear, and you stepped closer to him, fingers brushing his chest.

"What?" you asked.

"Do you wanna—?" he asked, tilting his head towards a quiet alcove near a large window at the back of the bar.

You nodded and he pulled you towards him, his large, warm hands resting on your hips in a comforting and protective gesture as he navigated you between the bar's rowdy patrons.

When you broke through the crowd and into the quiet corner, you glanced out the window in a last effort to distract yourself as you watched snow falling earnestly in large flurries.

"Hey" Mattheo said quietly, calmly, garnering your attention as you turned to face him and a smile spreading automatically on your lips at his rich voice, at his proximity.

His eyes were bright and twinkling, searching your face intently, perhaps picking up on your hesitancy, which wouldn't surprise you given that he often knew how you were feeling before you did.

"What I had started to say was... that was... something back there with Trelawney, huh?" he let out a breath, just shy of a laugh as he shook his head and carded his hand through his curls in an effort to hide the fact that his hands were shaking, had been since Trelawney had word for word described exactly how you made him feel. His heart would not stop racing; something about what Trelawney had said struck a chord so deep inside him, it was like his body was still humming with the note.

"Yeah... I don't really know what to think of it, I guess..." you replied nervously, not willing to say anything more, not wanting to make a fool of yourself.

He swallowed, eyes shifting to the snow outside, trying to gather the courage he may never have again.

"It's mad, really, to think about something like soulmates, especially from a pile of tea leaves, but... I don't know, at the same time, it kinda made sense to me" he said.

Your eyes blinked up at him and you could feel your pulse hammering in your neck.

"Did it?" you said quietly, breathlessly.

"With you it did, yeah" he said, meeting your eyes fully. "It made a lot more sense than anything else has between us in a long time. I hadn't had a word for it, for the way I feel when you're with me, calm, assured, happy. I always know where I stand with you, what you're thinking, how you're feeling, you're like an open book to me, like my favorite book that I want to read over and over and over again. And at the same time, it makes sense that when we're apart, I lose my mind YN. I don't think you have any idea what it does to me. I can't focus for shit, I'm worried about you, constantly, I feel unsettled, unmoored, it's why I follow you around the castle at night like a dog for Merlin's sake" he said, shaking his head, embarrassed. "That's not normal" he said before gesturing between the two of you "this isn't normal—"

"—I felt it too" you interrupted, "feel it too, I know exactly what you mean, Mattheo, every single word" you said, stepping closer to him.

"Are we crazy?" you whispered, laughing. This should feel weird, should feel incredibly strange and for the briefest moment you wondered if she'd put something in your tea, but then his fingertips brushed your waist again, pulling you closer to him and it felt like the last piece of a puzzle, a missing part of you sliding into place.

Mattheo was shaking his head and smiling, completely enamored with you, unable to look away.

"Nah, not crazy at all" he whispered back.

The air between you was crackling, electrified like the moment before lightning struck when suddenly small snowflakes began to fall around you. For a moment you thought there was a hole in the ceiling, but then you realized you were standing under an enchanted mistletoe that was jingling quietly and showering you both with snow that sparkled and then faded away.

You both looked up, laughing, before you met his gaze again, realizing he was close enough to brush his nose against yours. His warm hand cupped the side of your face and you leaned it as a feeling like melted honey rushed over your entire body and he brushed the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now" he whispered.

"Please—" you started to say before he stole the word out from behind your lips, capturing it with his own, consuming it with his perfect mouth as he pulled you firmly against him.

Every fiber of your being was a live wire, and you were certain that if anyone had touched the two of you, you'd have let off a spark. But being snug against his chest wasn't enough as you moved to wind your arms around his neck and his hands continued to grab onto you for purchase, carding into your hair, grasping at your sweater, the two of you nearly losing your footing in your attempt to close any remaining distance between you as you giggled, bubbling over with joy.

Pansy tucked her wand back into her boot as she looked on from the crowded bar at the two of you.

"The mistletoe was a nice touch" Draco nodded.

"It would have happened eventually" she defended.

"Inevitable" Enzo agreed as he popped by her side, eyeing the two of you as he sipped his butterbeer.

"Fucking finally!" Theo said heartily as he stepped to Draco's other side.

"Aww, would you look at that!" Blaise acknowledged, joining them as they watched the two of you. "Happy Christmas, guys!" he said, raising his glass.

"Happy Christmas!" they all agreed, raising their glasses together, thrilled to see their friends full of the love they both so deserved.

@kenjikishimotoswifey @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @chelawrites

[youleftmenochoicebut]

SANTA BABY — remus lupin.

SUMMARY. — it’s your second christmas with your baby girl and Remus dresses up as santa.

PAIRING. — dad!remus lupin x mom!reader

WARNINGS. — fluff, some suggestiveness at the end (because im kinda scared to write smut yet)

A/N. — merry christmas to those who celebrate!

“mommy, where’s dada?” your two and a half year old asks, her small body wrapped around your middle like a koala bear, as you sit in front of the fireplace. it’s 9pm, already past Brielle’s bedtime, but you’re letting her stay up late tonight. it’s christmas eve after all. your friends have left already, the kitchen’s been cleaned and Brielle’s been more than excited to finally get her presents.

“he’s getting more wood for the fire, bug.” the lie slips past your lips flawlessly, your fingers combing through your toddler’s hair, and the fact that it’s the exact same color and texture as Remus’ still stuns you to this day. the truth is you decided it would be a fun idea for Remus to dress up as Santa Claus and give your baby girl her gifts that way. although the more you think about it now, the more hesitant you are.

Brielle just nods, nuzzling her head into the crook of neck, and you sigh contently. not much time passes before you hear the backdoor bang, the loud stomping getting closer, and Remus’ figure appears in the doorway. for how tall he is, being almost 6’5, he’s too skinny (at least that’s what you always tell him), so he has to fill out the Santa costume with some pillows for the belly to look big and round. you chuckle when you notice him, nudging Brielle softly.

“ho, ho, ho!” Remus exclaims, making his voice intentionally lower and he pats his fake stomach, coming closer. “i’ve come to see if there are any good kids here, in this fine house?”

Brielle giggles, her eyes shining brighter when she slides off your lap and skips over to him, tugging at his pant leg. “daddy silly!” she shrieks sweetly, jumping in place as she waits for Remus to lean down to her level. “up, dada!”

“well, i don’t know where your dad is, kiddo, i’m here to bring you your presents!” he keeps up his act like a professional, the smile on your face widens, and you can see a hint of confusion on your girl’s face.

“hmm… i like presents!” Brielle smiles, showing off her teeth, and tries to pull Remus over to the christmas tree. “mama, look! it’s Santa!”

“oh, wow, Brie. no way.” you gasp, chuckling along with your toddler’s enthusiasm, and you watch the scene unfold.

Brielle and Remus kneel down by the christmas tree and your husband reaches for the velvety santa’s sack, and pulls out a couple of neatly packed boxes. he puts them on display, in a row, in front of your baby girl who excitedly waves her hands. she wastes no time reaching for the first package, eagerly ripping the wrapping paper off and squealing happily at what she sees. it’s a toddler sized broomstick, the exact same as Harry’s just smaller, because she’s been wanting that ever since she saw him fly around in the summer. with James’ close assistance, if Lily ever asks, because of course a six year old can’t fly around on a broomstick on his own.

it doesn’t take much time before Brielle starts rubbing her eyes, the events of today catching up to her, and you know you have to step in. you scoop her up in your arms, winking at Remus with a small smile, and as she clings to you, you slowly go upstairs. she’s started sleeping in her own room just a few months back, when you decided she was big enough to have her bed in the separate room on the other side of the corridor, and she still sometimes sleeps with you. you can’t help it, you just love having your baby girl close to you.

this night though, you go straight to her bedroom, swiftly changing her into her red christmasy pajamas. you settle her down in her princess bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin, and you step away, pretty sure she’s already asleep. you’re almost at the door when you hear a soft voice call out to you.

“mama, goodnight kiss.” Brielle whispers, her eyes remaining closed as she snuggles up to her favorite dog plushie (it’s the one Sirius gave you guys when she was born). you smile, and quickly rush over, leaning in to plant a kiss on her forehead, nose, then both cheeks.

“goodnight, bug.” you murmur, and leave the room, a yawn escaping your lips as you walk downstairs to find Remus lounging on the couch, still in the Santa costume.

“well, hello there, Mr. Claus.” you say playfully, slumping down next to him, and your eyes are set on his face, covered mostly by the long fake beard. “i haven’t gotten my presents tonight.” your lips pouting as you reach out, putting your hand against his chest.

“that’s because you’ve been a very bad girl this year, dovey.” Remus whispers, his large hands grasping at your hip and with completely zero trouble he swooshes you into his lap, making you straddle him. you rest your arms on his torso, in a way to hold up as well, and you scoff.

“hey! i thought Santa Claus was supposed to be nice ‘n all.” you mumble, hitting his shoulder as you feel him squeeze his hands on your bum. you raise your eyebrows at him, and as much tired as he seems, you can see the hunger in his eyes.

“then i guess i have to take this off, cause i don’t plan on being nice to you tonight.” his voice is raspy and it makes a shiver run down your spine, and you throw your head back when he puts his lips on your neck.

“no, no, no. the costume stays on.” you grunt, and the laugh that escapes him is so heartful is wrecks his body, so you glance down at him with a serious expression. “oh, i’m not kidding.”

without responding, his hands wander back up, then down, this time deeping into your pants, and with one swift movement he tears your panties apart and off of you. you glare at him, shaking your head, and you shift at the feeling of the slightly itching material of your pants against your bare womanhood.

“i liked those ones-“ your complain is cut off by his lips pushing against yours forcefully, his tongue delving into your mouth. after you pull away, a sting of saliva connects your lips to his, and you blink hazily.

“Santa’s gonna buy you new ones.” he breathes out, a smirk appearing on his face before he easily flips you over onto your back, hovering over you. “actually, a lot of new ones.”

[jayybugg]

always been you

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader based on Always Been You by Chris Grey

Summary: Breaking things off should be easy.....right?

Warnings: Smut, Language, maybe a little angsty?? Not really sure. Mattheo is a little mean, but not to you.

Word Count: 3.2K

Music:

Note: I love writing fics based on songs. Probably one of my favorite things to do, I actually wrote this in June, right before my birthday, but my computer crashed, and that file got lost. I prefer this version of it better, though, so I think it was the better. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, enjoy!

Banner by @cafekitsune

You crossed my mind, a few miles ago, turned on your street, thinking I’m headed home

Mattheo chucked the butt of his cigarette to the ground as he walked through the empty corridors of the castle. Unaware of his location, he turned the corner to be met with steep stairs that he knew led to your common house door.

He narrowed his eyes at the dark path in front of him. His feet and heart were begging and urging him to continue. To get to your door, to see you, to touch you, to hear your voice. If Mattheo could smack himself, he would. He was supposed to be going to his dorm to meet some blonde chick he flirted with at a party weeks ago. A distraction, he was supposed to be going to see his distraction.

Yet, here he was, unconsciously going to you like some lost puppy who couldn’t bear to be without his owner. Mattheo continued to glare at the path before scoffing and turning away to make his way to his dorm. Ignoring the pang in his heart, he slipped another cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

How pathetic…. all this over a stupid girl.

It’s late in the night, I hope you’re alone, and nobody is there holding you close, and I tried to love again, now I’m right back at your door

He couldn’t help it. You were plaguing his mind like some disease.

Even as he gripped the hips and thrust into the blonde from behind, his mind still wandered to you. He thought about what you could be doing at this moment. Were you up reading those stupid romance books that you liked so much? Or were you watching some scripted reality show that you always gossiped about with Pansy? Or maybe you were cuddled up with some fucker like some lame-ass couple?

Or worse, instead of being laid up, what if you were in the same position as this blonde? Were you with some other guy? Letting him fuck you? Letting him get a taste of what belonged to Mattheo?

It was the small yelp of pain from the blonde that brought Mattheo back to reality. His grip was brutal on the small girl’s hips, a bruise already forming in its wake. Mattheo loosened his grip, but his pace increased, fast and rough as if he was trying fuck his anger out on the poor girl who had no idea what was going on in his mind.

“M-Matty-” The blonde moaned out. If Mattheo wasn’t thinking about you, then he was definitely thinking about you now at the use of your nickname for him. He muttered, “Don’t call me that.” Another sharp thrust making her moan, caused him to speak again, “And shut the fuck up. Your moans are annoying.”

That’s how Mattheo’s days carried on. Forcing himself not to go to you at all hours of the day and fucking anybody to get you out of his mind.

Was it working?

Not really, but Mattheo was beyond the point of actually giving a fuck. He needed to let you go; he had to let you go. Especially because he was the one who ended the friends-with-benefits arrangement, despite knowing all that, Mattheo didn’t stop watching you. His eyes were on you whenever he had the chance to. Drinking in your figure, your face, your everything.

“Merlin, you look like the biggest creep around. Stop staring at her like you want to eat her alive.” Theo’s voice broke Mattheo’s trance. His dark brown eyes met his friend’s deep blue ones as he took a seat next to him and lit a cigarette.

“I don’t want to eat her alive.” Yes, he does. Anything to have you remotely close to him. “And I don’t look like a creep, and I wasn’t even staring at her.” Mattheo scoffed, folding his arms as he leaned against one of the pillars in the Clocktower Courtyard.

“Yeah, right.” Theo snorted, blowing his smoke, “Why’d you even break it off with her? Thought shit was going well for you both?”

“Too attached,” Mattheo said curtly. Luckily for Mattheo, he didn’t specify which one of them was getting too attached because, truth be told, it wasn’t you that got attached, it was him.

Theo didn’t speak again, giving Mattheo a small noise of acknowledgment. Mattheo’s eyes focused back on you as you laughed with your friends. A small frown tethered on his lips as he watched you. Why the fuck were you so happy? Why aren’t you drowning in misery like he is?

You seemed so unbothered by the fact that Mattheo had broken things off with you. Almost as if you never cared, and it made Mattheo’s blood boil because all he could think about was you.

That’s why he came to your dorm. He needed to know how you forgot about him so quickly. He needed you to teach him. He knocked on your door loud enough that if you were in your dorm, then you heard him.

The door flung open to reveal you to Mattheo. His eyes didn’t hesitate to trail down your body before meeting your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” Mattheo asked gruffly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, obviously trying to understand the boy’s audacity. “What are you doing here, Mattheo?”

For the first time in his life, Mattheo didn’t have an answer.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it’s always been you

Your eyes stayed trained on Mattheo; he felt like his heart would be ripped out of his chest if he stood in front of you any longer. Without any words, Mattheo turned on his heels and walked away from your door. He felt your eyes follow him until he was out of your sight.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t answer you. When did it become so difficult to get what he wanted? What did he even want?

You.

He wanted you. Deep down, he knew that. His friends knew it, your friends knew it, and the whole school probably knew it. The only person who probably didn’t know it was you because, in your eyes, Mattheo was the emotionless prick who couldn’t settle down to save his life.

Mattheo wasn’t used to having nice things. Everything came at a price for him. He couldn’t, and maybe wouldn’t, wrap his head around the idea that you want him for nothing in exchange for his love. He could never bring himself to care about anyone outside of his friends, but you somehow crawled your pretty ass into his heart and plagued him every moment he wasn’t with you.

You’re just fucking attached, Mattheo, it’s pathetic.

The voice in his head sounded eerily like his father. He hated it; he hated it more than he hated how infectious you were to him. He reached into his pocket once he reached the courtyard, the cold air of night pinching his face as he pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, inhaling, then exhaling in a shaky breath.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He has never been so torn up about a girl like this before. He knew he wanted you, but what about you did he want?

Did he want your corny jokes? The ones you would tell him every morning, the ones that never failed to gain a snort from him.

Or maybe he wanted your pretty smile? That same pretty smile that he envisioned every time he closed his eyes. The same smile that made his heart flutter weirdly whenever he saw it. The same smile that made him jealous whenever he saw it directed at anyone other than him.

Or was it your voice? Merlin, your voice. So soft and sultry. Always said his name so sweetly, even when you were annoyed at him for some reason. Your voice that lets out the prettiest moans for him when he had you on your back with your legs prompted on his shoulders.

Mattheo groaned, rubbing his temples from the pending headache that always came when he thought too hard about you, which was all the time. He threw his cigarette down, crushing the lit cherry of it under his boot. He made his way to the Slytherin dorms, looking for his next distraction.

Staring eye to eye, I can’t look away, spent so much time apart, still nothing’s changed

Mattheo was once again staring into your eyes. He was drowning in them as you plopped into the seat across from him in the Transfiguration classroom. His eyes followed every moment of yours, from your hands that opened your notebook to your plump lips that moved as you spoke.

You were speaking. You were speaking to him.

He blinked as he registered your voice, the sound making his heart jump and his cock twitch. A weird combination, but a combination that made sense for him. You frowned at him, your eyes unamused by the lack of attention that you were receiving from the curly, brown-headed boy. “Are you even listening to me, Riddle?” You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowed accusingly.

Merlin, her eyes were so fucking pretty. “Since when do you call me ‘Riddle’?” Mattheo licked his lips as he finally spoke. You scoffed, slamming your hands down on the table. “Is that all you can respond to? If you can’t focus or won’t focus, I’ll tell McGonagall to switch us for the project.”

“No!” Mattheo rushed out, “I can focus. I promise.”

That was a fucking lie.

Mattheo couldn’t focus at all. Not when he sat in your dorm for the first time since he ended things with you. It was overwhelming, from your scent to the closeness of you two on your bed. The only thing running through Mattheo’s mind was pushing you back on the bed and diving his head between your legs to taste you.

He was trying, Merlin, he was, but he just couldn’t. Not when you were in front of him in spandex shorts that made your ass look so good and a tank top that revealed that you had no bra on. Were you trying to torture him? Some sort of sick punishment for how he went about ending things?

He exhaled loudly, causing your eyes to snap up to him in a slight look of annoyance. “If you don’t want to do this, then you can leave. Nobody is forcing you to be here.” You said.

Is that what you thought he was thinking about right now? Leaving you? As if.

“Nobody is annoyed, doll.” He said, “Trust me.”

He met your eyes, the room suddenly intensifying around them. Your eyes darted across his face as if you were trying to pick out the lie in his features. “Right.” You muttered.

A silence took over the room as you both continued to stare at each other. Mattheo’s heart was beating out of his chest. He just wanted to lean over and kiss you. He wanted to hear you whisper his name in his ear. He wanted you.

Fuck it.

I find nirvana inside of your love, baby girl, nobody was enough, oh, I tried to love again but a part of me was yours

Mattheo’s lips crashed against yours, expecting you to immediately push him away, but much to his surprise, you kissed him back. He moaned at the simple feeling of your lips against his. The murkiness in his mind had cleared, with you being the only thing on his mind.

He pushed you back on the bed, lips still attached as he felt his body and heart become whole again. He had been suffering for months when all he needed to do was kiss you. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck as his hands slipped under your tank top to cup your breasts.

“Mattheo.” You whispered. A groan involuntarily fell from Mattheo’s mouth when he heard it as he continued to kiss down your collarbone, his fingers massaging your hardened nipples. “Mattheo.” You whispered again, “We shouldn’t-”

“No.” Mattheo breathed out against your shoulder. His curls hid his dark eyes from you as his fingers pinched your nipples. A small yelp filled the air as Mattheo planted a kiss on your shoulder. “I don’t care if you kick me out right after or punch me for whatever reason. I don’t care. I want this; I need this.” He whispered.

He sat up, his eyes meeting yours once again. There was nothing but lust, honesty, and vulnerability swirling in them. You blinked up at him before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Mattheo didn’t waste any more time. Mainly because he was so desperate but also because he was scared if he waited a second longer, you would change your mind. He lifted your shirt up, pulling it over your head, and throwing it to some unknown part of your room. His lips latched onto your left nipple, his hands traveling past the waistband of your shorts. He whined, he fucking whined, when he felt that you had no underwear on. “You’re fucking torturing me, doll.” He mumbled, moving to give your right nipple the same amount of attention.

“I didn’t...I didn’t do anything.” You whimpered, a soft gasp following as two of his fingers slid into you with ease. Mattheo came back up, his eyes meeting yours, his lips only inches from yours as his fingers plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your moans were hitting his lips like a hit of ecstasy. “That’s the fucking problem.” He mumbled.

His fingers curled inside of you, your back arching, and a loud whine from you as a result. “You have been torturing me for these past few months, and you don’t even know.” He mumbled, “It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“M-Mattheo...”

“Stop calling me that.” Mattheo demanded, pulling his fingers out of you and your shorts. He ignored your whine as he yanked your shorts down, throwing them in the same direction as your tank top.

He scooted down, pushing your thighs apart to further reveal your leaking pussy to him. Another moan fell from him as he ran a finger down your folds, gathering some of your wetness up. He lifted his finger to his mouth, sucking it lightly. Your eyes were trained on him as you let out a sound that Mattheo couldn’t quite identify. “Mattheo is your name.” You finally gathered enough brain power to respond.

“Not to you. You know what I want you to call me.” He mumbled. Mattheo leaned in, running his tongue down your folds. You let out a loud moan, your hands flying to his hair. “Y-You said you hated the nickname ‘Matty’.” You whispered, your eyes fluttering close.

“I want to hear it.” Mattheo said, blowing on your clit, causing a shiver to run down your body. He licked down your folds again, this time faster, as he looked up at you. “Open your eyes, doll. Open your eyes and say my name.” He whispered, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking on it lightly.

Your moans were uncontrollable at this point, and you had no choice but to obey his wish. “Matty.” You breathed out, “Fuck, Matty...”

A smile graced his face as he pulled away, pushing his two fingers back into you. “That’s my good slut. Always did know how to follow directions.” He whispered. His lips reattached to your clit, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around it.

Your moans filled the room as your fingers tightly gripped his hair. He wasn’t going to stop until he ripped an orgasm from you. He would die if he didn’t get you to cum on his tongue. “I know you’re close, doll. Don’t hold out on me, please. Cum on my tongue, I need it.”

You whined as you held his head closer to your clit, your orgasm leaking onto his tongue. He licked it up eagerly, pleased to clean up the pretty mess that he had made. When he sat up, he yanked his shirt off, following his sweatpants and boxers. He watched as your eyes seemed glued to cock, hard and already desperately leaking with pre-cum. Mattheo climbed back on top of you, holding the shaft of his cock as he ran it up and down your folds.

“You’re soaked.” He whispered against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours, “Did you miss me?”

You took a deep breath. “What does it matter? You...You wouldn’t care regardless.”

You thought he didn’t care? If he wasn’t in the middle of sinking his cock inside of you, he probably would have given you a serious response. Instead, all that tumbled out his mouth was, “Just answer me.”

He pushed his cock into you, a groan escaping his lips. “I missed you.” He whispered, “If that makes any difference in your answer.”

He moved his hips slowly, hitting deep inside of you. The act of it all was sensual, intimate. As if Mattheo was trying to make this moment last as long as possible. Your soft moans brushed against his lips, causing his heartbeat to race. “You should miss me.” You whispered, “You’re the one who ended things.”

He was. Merlin, he was the idiot who ended things. “I know.” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Mattheo gave her a deep thrust, getting a moan in return. He kissed her jaw, his hips moving a bit faster but keeping a deep pace. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” He repeated in your ear. “I’ve missed your pretty self, doll. So fucking much.”

Mattheo didn’t know what was taking over him. The feeling of being inside you again, or if the intimacy of it all was making his true feelings spill out.

“Matty.” You whispered. His hips moved with more urgency as if he was trying to fuck his remorse into you. “I mean it, doll.” He whispered, “I’m fucking sorry and I’ve fucking missed you.”

You tightened around him, making his moan in your ear. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just....fuck, doll.” Mattheo mumbled, his words spilling out quickly. He was so drunk, on you, on your love, on your pussy. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you were clenching around more and more. “Cum with me, doll. Please. I fucking need it.” Mattheo pleaded.

You met his eyes, nodding. “I am, Matty... I am.” You said.

Your moans mixed with his groans as you both came together. His seed filled you as your juices coated his cock and soaked the sheets underneath. Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, passionately and desperately.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it always, been you

It all made sense to Mattheo now.

With your head lying on his chest as your light snores filled your room, Mattheo’s mind was clearer than it had been in the past few months. He was attached. That was the only answer.

He wasn’t just attached to you. He was obsessed and in love with you.

Mattheo couldn’t hide it or deny it to himself anymore, and he honestly didn’t want to. There was no point in doing that. The only person he had to convince was you.

It had always been you. Always.

[snowande]

Side quest 2 with isekai Reader that is a healer with a unique way

(male orc x female)

From this story Side quest 1

After done doing your job at the camps, you return to your villages, riding trough the trails with your horse on the way home.

You hear a scream and grunts from the woods, you stop on the trails and put your horse on a leash on to a tree, when you investigate, slowly pushing away the bushes to the voice, and you see, a orc getting jump by a pack of werewolf.

The orc's cries for help are muffled by the sound of his own screams and the werewolves' growls. His arms are wrapped around one of the werewolves, trying to crush it, but there are too many of them. They tear at his flesh, their claws and teeth.

The orc was smaller than a normal orc.

You grab a magic bomb from your bag and throw it at the werewolves. The magic bomb explodes with a blinding flash of light and a deafening roar.

Several werewolves are blinded and howling from the blast. The remaining beasts hesitate for a moment.

The werewolves pack eventually back off and left you with the poor wounded orc, doesn't orcs come in a pack? like the werewolves? you thought to yourself.

But this particular orc seems to be alone, and his injuries are severe. He's bleeding profusely from multiple wounds, and his armor is dented and cracked.

You walk to the injured orc and kneel in front of him "hey, where are your friends?" you softly said to the orc, the orc his eyes sadded. "My pack... left me to die. because I'm the weakest I thought they are my family..." the orc said.

You look at him in pity and feel bad for him, you will not let the poor orc died, bleeding to death, so you ask if the orc can still walk, well you can't pick him up, because he was large than you.

The orc groan in pain as he tries to get up, his movements slow and painful. "I-I can still walk, but not far..." he admits, leaning against a nearby tree for support. "Who are you, human? Why help me?".

"I help you because it's my job as a healer, even if you're an orc, I still help you, not all orcs are bad..." you said as slowly guide him, to a nearby lake, sit him down at the grass and let him lean on a tree.

His breath is uneven and labored. "Humans... you're different... most of them feared us, killed us on sight, But..." he looks at you with dark, thoughtful eyes "You're kind..."

He reaches out with a large, bloody hand and gently touches your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, considering his size and strength. "Thank you human, My name is Arosh, I owe you my life." He looks at you with gratitude.

Arosh watches as you gently remove his armor, his eyes never leaving yours. He seems to be studying you, trying to understand this kind human who saved his life.

As you work, he notices the way your fingers brush against his skin, and he shivers slightly. "um... Arosh you see... I'm not like how the other healer 'heal' so bear with me alright?' you said to arosh, arosh look at you confused, when suddenly you lean on his bare stomach and lick his wounds.

His breath catching in his throat. He's seen healers before, usually heal with their hands and healing potions. But this... this is something else entirely. "What are you doing? "

As you continue to tend to his wounds with your tongue, Arosh realizes that you're healing your saliva. He watches in awe as his wounds slowly start to knit back together, his skin mending under your care.

"It seems the deeper wound are not healing throughly..." you said while looking at the confused arosh. Arosh looks down at the deep gashes on his chest, He watches as you furrow your brow, studying them intently.

"Welp, the only healing that is strong is this." You said while dropping your pants. His eyes widen at the sight of your naked lower body, his breath catching in his throat.

His eyes wander over your thighs before meeting your gaze again. "What..." he swallows hard "What are you suggesting?" "well you see Arosh, I can heal someone with any liquid that comes out of my body, the strongest liquid is my essences...." you said while blushing.

Arosh's eyes flicker down to your core, understanding dawning on him. He licks his lips, his own body responding to the implication. Despite his injuries, he can feel a growing heat in his loins. "So, you're saying..."

He swallows hard, his mind racing with the implications. "You're saying that if I... if we... you can heal my deeper wounds?" He looks back up at your face, searching for confirmation.

"You mean, if we have intercourse, your... essence... will heal my wounds?" He says the words carefully, testing them out. He's never heard of such a thing, but then again, he's never met a healer like you before.

"n-not yet! we have to do intercourse if the wounds are not healing if drinking my essence doesn't work!" you said.

Arosh nods slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "So... it's a last resort, then. If drinking your essence doesn't heal my wounds, we'll need to have intercourse instead." He pauses, his heart racing at the thought of such an intimate act.

"Yes unfortunately..., right... okay let's heal you now" you said while told him to lay down so it will be easy to work with. Arosh nods, understanding your request. He carefully lies down on his back.

As you hover your body in front of his, Arosh's eyes widen at the sight of your pussy so close to his face. His breath catches in his throat as he feels your warmth against his face.

Palms flat against your hips to keep you steady as he buries his face between your legs. His long, rough tongue laps at your core, drinking in your essence. He makes loud, hungry noises as he laps at your cunt.

"ah! ngh!" you moan, it feels so different... Arosh tongue is bigger than other people, of course it's because he was an orc. Your moans only encourage him further.

He keeps his arm locked around your hips, keeping you pinned in place as he uses his massive tongue to explore your every fold, his broad nose pressing against your clit.

His thumbs to pull your lower lips apart, giving himself full access to your core. Without warning, he plunges his long, thick tongue deep into your pussy, curling it to reach every inch of your inner walls.

His thumbs keep your lips spread wide, holding you open for his oral assault. He begins to move his tongue in and out, mimicking the motion of fucking.

As he continues his relentless tongue-fucking, he brings one of his large hands up to your clit, his thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling the sensitive nub. The dual stimulation is almost too much to bear. He looks up at you with hungry, crazed eyes.

Growling against your pussy, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh "Going, to make you cum..." His tongue moves faster, deeper, almost brutal in its intensity. The hand pinching your clit moves in time with his tongue thrusts.

"ah! oh! god! I think I'm about to-" you moan while shaking, you never feel felt so much pleasure before. He feels your body tense up, knows you're close to climaxing. he suck your clit, making you squirt.

Catching your essence with his tongue. He moans in pleasure, swallowing every drop. His hands move to your ass, squeezing the flesh as he continues to lap at your pussy, not letting a single drop go to waste.

"d-did it work?" the orc said timidly, you see at his deep wounds it heal a little bit, it means you have to..., his wounds, which are still bleeding but slower now.

"well, I guess we have to do an intercourse then..." you said, He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. He let you crawl into his lap. He slowly lowers his loincloth, revealing his massive, throbbing member.

Position your self on tip of his cock, you lower yourself onto his massive green member, you feel like you're being split in two. He's so large that it hurts, but you know you have to keep going to heal his wounds. He grunts and wraps his thick arms around your waist, pulling you down further.

As you slowly impale yourself on his massive member, then you stop half way, because his dick fill you to the brim, his cock is half inside you, Aros grab your waist and slowly thrusting, letting you get used of his cock.

"Nghh... Haa okay you can move Arosh... " As you give the ok sign, he starts to thrust harder, his massive balls slapping against your ass. Each thrust pushes you further down onto his length, filling you completely.

His muscular body glistens with sweat and blood as he fucks you aggressively, yet careful enough not to hurt you too much.

He keeps thrusting deeper and deeper, you can feel his entire length inside you now, you can feel his huge balls slapping against your backside. He's so deep inside you that it hurts, but it feels good too. He grunts and growls with each thrust.

Without warning, he flips you onto your back His thrusts become more aggressive now, hitting every sensitive spot inside you.

Arosh look down and sees that his deep wounds are healing, and he feel a lot stronger than before? Is it because of your unusual healing?.

He feels invincible now, his wounds are completely healed, and he feels stronger than ever before. He wraps his thick arms around your waist and lifts you up, impaling you on his dick, standing up.

One of his hand tenderly cup your face as he kisses you deeply, while his other hand holding your hip, his thick tongue exploring your mouth while his dick continues to pound into you mercilessly.

His eyes rolling back in his head as he feels his balls tightening, signaling his impending climax. He holds you tighter against him, burying his member as deep as it will go, and unleashes a torrent of thick, hot orc cum deep inside your stretched out pussy.

His cock pulses repeatedly, filling you completely with his thick seed. His powerful arms keep you pinned tight against him as he spills every last drop of his potent cum deep within your core.

His cock remains hard and throbs inside you as he continues to hold you tightly against him, his cum slowly leaking out from your cunt.

Arosh sits down gently, keeping you in his lap, his still hard dick gradually withdraws from your well used hole. He looks down at you tenderly, his rough hands gently stroking your hair "Thank you?." "I-its y/n... Haa" "Thank you y/n..." He pulls you close.

Nuzzling his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent. "You've given me strength and healing. I am in your debt." He kisses your forehead softly, his massive frame trembling with emotion.

Then you drift off to sleep, nestled in the orc's gentle embrace, you feel safe and protected. His warm, musky scent envelops you.

As you sleep, Arosh hold you tight on his hold, Arosh seems doesn't want to let you go. You smell so nice...

He wonder if he can come with you? Even if he came back to his village, would his orc's friends still want him? He can't seems to let you go.

He hope you will bring him!, he will protecting you! And and be a wonderful MATE to you...

Ahh finally done! This one takes a while (´；д；`) - Lumi♡

This picture is from Pinterest Danil Zakablukovskii

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Tags : @nymphea0 @rainwithoutpain @cinwmoon @sleepydang

[kozumesphone]

h.h ✦ so good ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : ayyy dominoooo merry christmas (it’s literally exactly 12:00am here) 😋 this fic is not even christmas-related, but it is hyunjin-related and that’s the only excuse I need to post it ☝️ this is the longest fic i’ve ever written (oneshot), so I hope it’s not too dragged out </3 I wanted to split it into 2 parts but decided against it. 👺 anyway!! this is me spreading cute and comfy!hyunjin as well as crop top!hyunjin agenda (esp after that solo mv?! babygirlism is OFF the charts w that fit ✨). well! merry christmas again! may your christmas be filled with streaming the solo mvs and christmas evel <3 this fic is dedicated to mori ( @serendipitous-girl )’s friend (if youre seeing this, HIIII!!) ❇️ enjoy~~ 💗🥟 (:

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : fem!reader , trainee!dancer!reader , idol!hyunjin , reader is 18 and hyunjin is 19 years old , ot8 mentioned , reader has (playful) beef w chan , one remark about reader thinking she’s heavy (if you think that way too, js know that i love you and i’d work out enough to bench press your weight ok) , crop top!hyunjin agenda , hyunjin is a CUTIE PATOOTIEEE , cheeky gentleman!hyunjin , also the last icon on the top is reader’s outfit described at the start of the fic / you can find reader’s stage outfit in the reblogs of this post >.< ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 3.8k

I was getting ready in a short top, cargo pants and v-strings, first thing in the morning today. 

I was packing my stage outfit in my bag when my uncle called me. I switched the call to speaker mode, and continued packing.

“is my little star almost done packing?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“yup! i’ll be at the venue in 20 minutes,” I said.

“great, i’ll see you there.” he hung up. 

I resumed my stray kids playlist, and the muscle memory to the choreography of the songs kept kicking in as I tried to finish packing. their new comeback album, HOP, was way too addictive to listen to.

I ended up being 10 minutes late—with my shoelaces barely tied—to the venue because I got too invested in my one-woman-concert.

as soon as I got down the car, it was surprising not having any cameras flashing in my face.

my uncle was hosting a premiere for the newest k-drama he had directed. he was quite the talk of town, with multiple blockbuster dramas credited to his name. 

he normally loved all the attention from the world. though, this time, the paparazzi was not allowed to the event since it was his last premiere before retirement. 

in lieu of the special circumstances, he declared the event a no-paparazzi only-vip one. and I was the most excited, which was an understatement, because the loves of my life were going to be there: stray kids.

well, it would be a little bit of an exaggeration to call them that, but they were my ult group, and they were all going to be there today.

during production, my uncle had asked me who I thought would be fit to be responsible for the soundtrack of his last drama ever, and I suggested stray kids to him, half as a joke. he ended up taking my suggestion, and so, as the music directors, stray kids were invited today as well.

the venue was an outdoor stadium, set for a proper viewing and many performances on the huge stage in the centre. 

lots of staircases and escalators went up and down the rows of seats and soft couches sat at the bottom, closest to the stage. 

I checked my seat number and found that it was in one of the first rows of couches near the stage. I made my way towards it and fell comfortably on the seat.

the stadium wasn’t completely filled yet, but it was already buzzing with gossips and such. I could spot a few friends of my uncle, who were all directors or producers, as well as the stars of the drama. I left my bag in my seat, and got up to greet the lead actors. they were a few years older than me, and had perfect chemistry with each other, even off-screen.

after chatting for a while, something else caught my attention in my peripheral vision.

well, more like someone else.

the members of stray kids had gotten out of their vehicle, each one of them looking as handsome as the rest.

my eyes strayed to chan and hyunjin in the corner of their group.

I met chan’s eyes, and bowed a little bit. he smiled back at me.

I tried to catch jeongin’s eye on the other side, but failed, because he was yapping to lee know about something quite excitedly.  

hyunjin was wearing a black tank top and a leather biker jacket, paired with dark cargo jeans and boots. the jewellery on him was absolutely perfect for his outfit and him, and his hair was styled beautifully. I knew stray kids had a performance sometime today, so he must have been carrying his stage outfit with him, just like I was. our eyes met for a second, and I let out a little gasp. he tried to smack away han, who was saying something loudly in his ear with a huge grin on his face. I turned around to continue talking with the other cast members who had gathered. 

after a while, everyone was asked to settle down in their seats, as the entertainment performances were about to begin. I made my way back to my seat, happy to see my bag still there. 

as I flopped down onto the fluffy couch, a taller figure towered over me. their shadow fell across my face. I opened my eyes to be met with hyunjin’s face.

“hi! i’ve got the seat beside you,” he smiled down at me. I stared at him in shock for a second, even though I had seen him countless times before, but just from a little farther away.

“right. yes- sorry, hi!” I stood up suddenly, bowing my head a little, and extending my hand. he shook it with a firm grip, and we both sat down.

a few performances went by, and the crowd started to chat again.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere… have we met before, by any chance?” he asked, turning towards me. our knees were touching a little bit now. 

“i’m actually a trainee, at jype,” I said, smiling a little.

his eyes lit up with recognition. “oh wait, y/n? your group practices in the room beside ours, doesn’t it?”

“yes, actually. how do you remember that?” I asked, a little shocked by the fact that he knew of my existence, and my name as well. 

“ah, I remember seeing you talking to chan, when you guys grabbed some ice cream from the vending machine in the first floor,” he recounted. “chan was telling me all about your group, after that. especially about you, actually.” I blushed a little bit, at the thought of chan remembering me enough to mention my members and me to hyunjin.

“what did he say? nothing bad, I hope,” I laughed. 

“well, that’s a secret,” hyunjin said, covering his mouth as if to shush himself. I groaned. 

“he better not have said anything stupid, then.”

hyunjin chuckled and continued. “he also told me about how he was your babysitter for a while, when you were younger?”

“oh, he was an absolute bully! he was barely 3 years older than me, but he acted like he was a 30-year old who knew everything. pompous ass.” I muttered the last part under my breath. 

hyunjin snickered. “sounds like chan, honestly. felix talks about him just like you do. I think lixie and you would get along well, then.” I laughed under my breath, exhilarated at the thought of even an opportunity to meet the other members. 

we continued talking for a while, when it was announced that the fire show would be starting. delighted, I whipped out my handcam to record it. it always sounded like a fun thing to watch, but i’d never been to any fire shows before. 

the entire show was amazing, but my arms were starting to get sore from holding up the camera for so long. hyunjin peaked at me, and stole the camera from my hands, holding it up, pointed towards the stage. 

“relax, i’ll hold it for you,” he whispered. my heart fluttered at the proximity between his lips and my ear. thinking nothing of the shiver sent down my spine, I left my handcam in hyunjin’s care, enjoying the show. 

there were lots of other entertainment segments, considering the event was supposed to last almost an entire day. there were lots of breaks in between for food, as well. 

at one point, I had fallen asleep on the soft couch. I kept moving around to get comfortable. the lights from the acts on stage were too bright, so I turned my body and head to the side, away from the lights. I threw my hand around something stable, and fell deeper into slumber. 

when I woke up from my quick power nap, I felt something against my palm. I opened my eyes to find my hand over hyunjin’s torso. he was leaning back, legs spread apart, body slowly vibing to the show on stage.

at my movement, he turned around slowly, looking at me. 

“got your beauty sleep, princess?” he asked, smirking a little. beneath my hand, that still rested over some part of his chest, I could feel his heart practically beating out of his body.

“dude, are you okay?” I asked, sitting up, ignoring his question. I moved a bit to place my hand flat against his chest. he had taken off his jacket, and was now in just a tank top. “your heart’s beating so fast. do you need to get away from the lights or something?”

“oh, no, i’m fine,” he mumbled, turning away a little bit. 

“you sure?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

even though we’d officially only met today, I felt comfortable around him. comfortable enough to talk to him, like i’d speak to any friend… which made sense, because we were sort of the same age. 

“yes, yes, mother,” he rolled his eyes at me. I gave him a side-eye, and we turned back around to watch the next set of performances. 

during one of the breaks, my phone rang with an incoming call from my aunt.

“y/n-ah, can you make it to the seventeenth floor fast? your cousin is so clumsy, she spilt juice all over herself and I need some help with her,” she said. I could hear the desperation in her voice through the phone, so I agreed.

“yeah, imo, i’ll be there. I think I have your seat number too, so don’t worry about it.”

as I stood up, hyunjin pulled me down immediately. “where are you going?” he whispered.

“my aunt needs some help with her daughter. she’s just three years old, and cute as hell of course, but she’s quite a handful. i’ll be right back, though,” I told him.

“i’ll come with you, then,” he said, getting up. I was surprised for a second, but nodded anyway.

I stood up and was about to close my ‘phone’ app, but paused at the screen. did I give him my phone along with my handcam, at some point? i’d forgotten about it, if I had. 

hyunjin had saved his contact number under the name ’hyune 🥟’.

“i’m curious, do you give out your number to every girl you meet?” I asked, joking, as we began making our way up the stairs. 

he turned back to me and then turned forward again, “nope. just the pretty ones.”

my heart fluttered at his dialogue, but I quickly regained my composure. “hyune, that’s so cheesy, oh my god.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“whatever,” he laughed. “don’t I get your number too? just so we don’t lose each other in the crowd.”

I was shocked, yet again, at the thought of the hwang hyunjin asking for my number, no matter what the reason.

he passed his phone to me, and we fell in step beside each other. I entered my number in, and saved it as ‘n/n 🌊’, before handing it back to him.

we made it to the seventeenth floor soon, both of us half-dancing to the music playing and talking to each other. when we reached my aunt’s row, though, she wasn’t there.

I asked the people nearby if they had seen a woman with a child in their row, and they said that she had left just a minute ago, with some staff members. 

I thanked them, and hyunjin and I decided to make our way back to our seats.

before we could start going down through the stairs, a security guard stopped us both.

“who are you two? don’t you know it’s the vip section down there?” he asked, gruffly.

“…i’m hyunjin? from stray kids?” hyunjin replied to him, as sassy as ever, and turned towards me to roll his eyes in mock-offence. 

“okay, well, what about you, miss?” he asked me. I had forgotten my tickets in my bag, which was still on my seat. 

I made eye contact with hyunjin, and he somehow seemed to understand that I didn’t have any other proof.

“i’m… uh… with him,” I replied, unsure. 

the guard looked at me suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. 

suddenly, hyunjin yelled, “who’s that running, over there?!” and pointed behind the guard. 

he turned back to see, and in the same second, hyunjin wrapped his fingers around my wrist, as we took off running down the stairs. 

we were sprinting down rows of stairs, laughing, almost breathless, but we could still hear the guard running behind us. 

“wait, wait,” I pulled hyunjin’s shirt from the back. “i’m going to trip, my laces are untied.” I breathed out. 

he shook his head, and picked me up bridal-style. “just tie your shoelace like this, he’ll catch us easily, otherwise!” he rolled his eyes, as if it was an obvious thing to do. 

by the time we were running down the next few sets of stairs, I had finished tying my laces, and we had also successfully lost the security guard. hopefully, he didn’t think of us as a threat too big to report to his boss, or whatever. 

hyunjin was still carrying me, as we were still walking down. 

“are you sure you don’t want to put me down now?” I asked, hesitating a little bit. “I am pretty heavy, I suppose, so-”

“of course you’re not,” he smiled softly at me.

the sun was just setting and the sky was a canvas of orange, pink, and purple. all the hues were reflected on hyunjin’s face, making him appear like an illuminated angel.

“hey…” I started. “would you mind if I recorded a video of the sunset, and… this?” I gestured between him and me. “I guess this is probably one of my favourite memories till date, and I… yeah. I want something to remember today by.” I let out a breath, wondering if i’d crossed the line by asking him if I could record him carrying me. it does sound like an awkward, weird and creepy request.

to my surprise, he nodded. “yes! you have to send it to me too, because I could say pretty much the same thing.” he grinned down at me. 

I smiled happily, and took out my phone. I took a few pictures of the sunset first. then, I flipped to the back camera, zoomed out to 0.5x, and extended my hand. I clicked on the ‘record’ button, recording hyunjin, and the light falling on his face. he smiled at the camera once, and then started making funny faces. I slapped his chest lightly, and we started laughing.

(much later, when i’d rewatched these videos, I noticed hyunjin looking at me with his eyes filled to the brim with love. just smiling at me throughout most of the video.)

we started talking to the camera like a vlog, and I flipped it after a while to show the sunset. it was absolutely ethereal, of course. 

we had almost reached the last few sets of stairs, so hyunjin set me down slowly. 

I thanked him quietly, ending the recording. “pretty sure i’m never forgetting this day.” I laughed lightly. 

“nooo, don’t thank me at all. I had so much fun, unexpectedly. it was cute,” he winked.

I turned away suddenly, heat rushing up my neck for the millionth time during the same day. I grumbled a little, and we continued talking to each other on the way back to our couch in the front row. 

I was telling him about my other friends who were STAY, and told him that they’d be very jealous to find out that I had been at such an event and met him.

“i’d love to meet your friends one day, they all do seem like fun people,” he said.

“oh my god!” I exclaimed. “I really hope you do. it’d be so cool.”

my phone dinged suddenly, and I looked down to see a notification alerting me about my upcoming dance performance on the centre stage for the day.

I bid hyunjin goodbye, letting him know that i’d be back after a while, and that I had to leave. 

would he be surprised when he’d see me on the stage? would he like the dance? I kept asking myself millions of questions.

he pouted for a while, but soon let me go, understanding that it was something important. 

I grabbed my bag from my seat, and rushed backstage. 

seeing the staff members waiting for me, I felt a little less nervous. familiar faces always had that effect, didn’t they?

ᯓ★ hyunjin’s pov . . .

I was back at my seat, continuing to watch the performances.

it was nearly 10 in the night already, and the crowd was getting more and more hyped. 

the other members and I were set to go on stage in about an hour for our performance, and we were all relatively ready, except for our outfits and makeup.

the last few performances were the most anticipated ones, usually. this time, I had forgotten to check the schedule to see who else was performing before us tonight. 

the lights dulled, after a song ended. a spotlight shone, and a girl was standing facing the other way. she was wearing a white button-up, a cropped vest, and cargo-jean pants. her belt shone with a row of stars and rhinestones. she truly gave off a ‘stray kids’ vibe, and would probably fit right in with our concept too. her hair reminded me of y/n’s.

the music began, and she turned around at the beat. I realised two things, simultaneously: first, that it was my solo song ‘so good’—the one that we had released just a week ago—that had started playing. and second, the girl on stage was y/n.

my heart burst at the sight of her. she had sunglasses on, and a black tie was loosely draped around her neck. her jewellery went absolutely perfectly with her outfit and vibe. 

I was awe-struck when she started dancing. they were the same steps I had been performing for so many weeks, but when she did them, they looked… ethereal. she did the isolations so well, and her flow was unmatched, much like an ocean wave.

her rings and bracelets glinted in the light continuously. her expressions were a perfect match for my song. she was pulling off the choreography exactly how it was, if not better. 

if I hadn’t already fallen head over heels in love with her, I certainly did now.

she executed the dance break choreography flawlessly. I was almost envious of how good she looked doing my dance. the lighting enhanced how beautiful she looked. an angel descending from heaven, perhaps. 

still in awe, I didn’t notice her performance ending, and the crowd was going wild. apparently, lots of people knew who she was. 

“who is she?” I asked the old couple sitting behind me. 

“oh, the girl who was just on the stage? she’s the director’s niece. an absolute beauty,” the woman replied, smiling fondly. 

“that she is,” I mumbled, and thanked the woman.

I got a notification from felix, saying that chan was looking for me backstage. I quickly made my way there, hoping to catch y/n too.

thanks to my occassional good luck, she was there, resting on a couch in the makeup room. a staff member was hovering around her, cleaning her makeup. the thin layer of sweat on her face was glistening under the light.

“hyunjin!” she called out, sitting up suddenly.

I smiled and walked towards her, gesturing at han—who was nearby—to wait for me.

as soon as y/n stood up, I hugged her. “that was so beautiful,” I muttered into her hair.

she pulled back a little and smiled at me.

“i’m so happy you liked it. I was kind of nervous-”

“y/n?! that was amazing! It literally looked exactly like hyunjin’s dance style!” jeongin said, running towards us. I rolled my eyes at the intrusion, but let it go soon since it was just jeongin.

I paused suddenly. “wait. how do you know her?” I asked him.

“oh, noona got me chocolates on my birthday, and since then we’ve been hanging out a bit,” he said. I turned to y/n, who was nodding in a very ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ way.

“i’ll leave you two to talk now, but jinnie hyung, the stylists are waiting for you. we need to get ready,” he said while walking away, and I nodded.

“ah, I see how it is,” I teased, narrowing my eyes playfully. “stealing the maknae’s heart before mine, huh?”

she burst out laughing. “you’ve got it all wrong. innie’s just a little brother to me.”

I felt a little relieved at that.

I saw the rest of the group trickle backstage one by one, each offering her their compliments, remembering her from the jype building.

felix hugged her and exclaimed how proud he was of her performance. “no wonder hyunjin’s been texting us about you nonstop today,” he added with a cheeky grin. I shoved him playfully, slightly blushing.

as the chaos died down, the staff called us one last time to prepare for our performance.

I turned to y/n, and asked a bit hesitantly. “will you still be here after the show?”

she nodded, her smile lighting up her face. “of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I stepped closer, leaning in so only she could hear. “good. I still owe you one for making my heart race like that.” her blush was as beautiful as ever, and it gave me the courage to add, “do you want to grab a coffee, or something, after the event?”

“I’d love that,” she said softly, nodding, her eyes meeting mine with a spark that made my heart race, yet again.

as I walked towards the stage with my members, I couldn’t help but glance back at her. she was watching us, her expression proud and supportive. she threw a thumbs up in the air.

I knew that this day wasn’t just a moment of chance or luck. it was the beginning of something beautiful.

ᯓ★ bonus ending: y/n’s pov . . .

after hyunjin’s performance with his group and my excessively loud cheering and screaming, there were still quite a few performances left.

unbothered, hyunjin and I snuck away from the stadium, and roamed outside, looking for coffee shops close by. it was too late, so the roads were mostly empty.

there were a lot of hands-brushing and staring-at-each-other moments too.

under the city’s twinkling lights, watching korea’s night life with him, I couldn’t help but wonder what galaxy i’d saved in my past life to be lucky enough so as to meet someone like hyunjin today.

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[lovelettersforthedamned]

are we going to find a hockey!peter angsty (like when him and bug are still kinda hate fucking) under our tree?

Pick Up

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: giving peter a taste of his own medicine feels good.

✰ warnings: language, angst, fluff, sexual innuedos at the end, a deep kiss.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

i think santa left this under your tree ;).

gif by @ddlovatosrps

The chilled air inside the rink sniped at your cheeks, but the fire that sparked through your nerves kept your body warm. 

You were practically seething in anger, and yet no one knew. You always tried to keep your calm, but when it came to Peter? He made it close to impossible. 

It was hard to be upset at Peter while watching him play. The crowd surrounding him adored him. You would go far enough to say that some girls would kill to be in your position. Who wouldn’t want to keep ‘hockey captain’ Peter’s bed warm? 

At this point? You wouldn’t, and you wish you never did. 

 Your mind was completely distracted until the last second of the previous period. Another win for Peter, of course. After parting with the opposing team and celebrating with his teammates, he liked to make his way to the glass, greeting you and making sure you met with him outside of the locker room. 

But as he was scanning the bleachers for the jersey you always wore, you weren’t there. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, only to see you already at the exit, shoving open the door. Clearing his throat, he tries to throw away the odd feeling of disappointment. 

The both of you were trying to walk as fast as possible, only you were walking home while Peter was trying to catch you before you made it far. The speed he undressed and packed all of his things was astonishing, and his teammates questioned his haste on his way out. Peter carried a look of determination on his face, making them step out of his way. 

As you were weaving through the cars in the parking lot, you mentally cursed the size of the lot. You swore you were walking as fast as possible, yet the main street was still so far away. “Bug,” a voice yelled out behind you. Your body tenses for a second, knowing who is calling out for you. Yet, you refuse to turn around, pretending to not hear him. 

Peter calls out for you again, this time, his voice is louder. You barely have time to take another breath as he suddenly appears next to you. Looking over at him, he’s out of breath. He’s the last person you wanted to see, “What.” You didn’t phrase it as a question. You were genuinely looking for the quickest way out of this conversation as fast as possible. 

“I didn’t see you at the glass,” he pauses, “or outside the locker room.” 

“Mhm,” you nod, letting him put in the work for once. 

Peter’s getting fed up with your attitude. He’s trying to get to the bottom of it and you’re not making it easy. He huffs out a frustrated laugh, “And why’s that, bug?” A hint of irritation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. 

A flicker of satisfaction makes your body tingle. It feels nice knowing that you’re the one playing with Peter’s mind. It almost makes you giggle. Biting your lip, you cut him some slack. “Someone was supposed to pick me up from the train station today,” you sigh dramatically, “but they didn’t; so I had to find a ride. Can you believe it?” You were milking it, but you couldn’t stop now.

“Fuck, I am so sorry–,” you grab his arm, silencing him. 

“Why are you apologizing, Petey? Unless you were the one who had to pick me up? That couldn’t be you, because you wouldn’t forget,” you were almost at the point of yelling at this point, causing the people around you to stare. Letting go of his arm, you smile sweetly before starting to walk away from him. 

“(Y/N),” he reaches for your hand, “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” You stop as he holds your hand before he pulls you closer to him. You don’t dare look at him, your eyes avoiding any sort of contact with his. You’ve made it this far. Don’t crack now. 

A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips, “You’re funny if you think you’re getting another chance to make it up.” Your body is screaming to wriggle out of his soft hold and walk away, but you remain there. And you mentally cursed yourself for it. 

Peter’s searching for your eyes, the eyes he loved. He remembers how quickly your eyes switched from soft to fierce, and he loves that about you. You could never hide your true feelings from your eyes, they seemed to give you away every single time. “Cmon bug,” he places two fingers under your chin, revealing your irritated expression, “that’s not true, and you know it.”

You sharply move your chin from his touch, rolling your eyes in the process, “Fuck you.” 

He wraps an arm around the back of your neck, effectively pulling you into his chest, and planting a kiss to the crown of your head. “I wasn’t saying all that to make you feel better by the way,” he mutters into your scalp, “I will make it up to you.”

Tilting your head up and away from his shirt, you look up at him. You still have an obvious pout on your face, “You promise?”

Peter laughs and leans down to place a kiss on your lips. He pulls you in tight as he deepens the kiss. Pulling away he looks at your lips and then up to your eyes, “I promise, bug. I can even start tonight.” 

“Well then we better hurry home,” you smirk. 

Peter reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his car keys. That stupid boyish smile on his face, reaching his eyes.

✰ author's note: HI YALLL!!! you guys can't get enough of hockey peter and i understand (what did i create). ALSO MERRY CHRISTMAS FOR THOSE WHO CELEBRATE!!! and happy holidays for those that don't!!! extending all my love to everyone this holiday season!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! send in more requests and asks if you would like :) till next time, byeeee.

[barbswo]

THIAM prompt: “PDA”

They weren’t really big on PDA—public displays of affection, that was. Stiles knew that there was nothing wrong with that, after all, all couples were different, but.

They were Liam and Theo.

No, sorry, not like that.

They were LiamandTheo.

As in, together.

When Stiles first heard about it, he was still in Washington, and it happened during a group call they tried to put together at least twice a month, which was a real bitch to accomplish, counting different time zones and personal schedules. Stiles was peacefully organizing some documents, listening to Malia complain about weird french customs, when Mason let out a mocking whistle, and Stiles lifted his head.

Of course, he knew that Theo was hanging around Beacon Hills. He knew that Liam’s parents, being real-life saints, let Theo to stay with them, knew that the chimera got close to the Puppy pack (Liam still hated that nickname, but Stiles thought that it was hilarious and on point), but knowing and seeing were two very different things.

Theo never joined their calls, acted like he didn’t even exist, always silent, hovering on the periphery of everybody’s minds. Theo was the blurry picture one deleted before trying to focus their camera, a word in a dictionary with no definition attached. And now Theo was just there, shirtless, a towel wrapped around his hips, walking around Liam’s room like it was the most normal thing to do.

“There is a naked chimera of death behind you,” blurted out Stiles, and it was fascinating how fast Liam’s head whipped around. Laughter pulled the lines of his mouth when he turned back to the camera, shaking his head.

“You almost got me there.”

Stiles blinked. Frowned. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“Stiles, I swear, you don’t want to be around Liam when there is a naked Theo nearby,” grinned Mason from his square on Stiles’ laptop, Corey’s head on his shoulder. Even cut by the camera frame, they looked so disgustingly sweet Stiles wanted to lick their faces.

Liam flipped Mason off. Scott nervously chuckled on his end, looking away for a second, and Stiles felt like he had to fight for his life while putting two and two together. It was his thing—to know stuff. To see it before everyone else did.

And maybe it would’ve been more obvious had he been around more after Theo’s… resurrection?.. but instead, realization hit him in the middle of the pack call, and Stiles almost fell off his chair.

“For all that’s sweet and pure, Liam, are you two an item? And why is everybody acting like you knew, did I miss the announcement of Theo seducing our baby wolf, and why in hell—”

“You didn’t tell him?” Asked Corey, lifting his head. “Liam, you said you would weeks ago!”

“Weeks?” Squeaked Stiles.

Liam sighed like someone had deposited the weight of the world on his shoulders. “First,” he lifted his index finger, “not your baby wolf. I’m eighteen, thank you very much. Second,” there went the next finger, “us dating is our business, and there was no announcement, Stiles, for god’s sake…”

“You called me in the middle of the night and wouldn't calm down for two hours,” dryly reminded Mason, and somewhere behind Liam’s back, Theo scoffed.

“Two hours, really? That’s kind of pathetic.”

And hey, maybe it was a little bit pathetic, but Stiles still remembered how it felt when he realized that the girl he’d been crushing on for ten years liked him back, and he wasn’t the one to judge, not really. Even if the subject of Liam’s affections was a murderer raised in sewers. Tastes differ.

But, because the subject of Liam’s affections was a murderer raised in sewers, Stiles couldn’t help but take his sudden revelation with a grain of salt. After all, he’d watched the kid grow, and in some ways, felt protective not only of Liam overall, but of Liam’s heart, too.

And Theo was known for stealing those.

“Pathetic, huh?” Liam turned his head, presenting everyone with the view of his sharp jawline, “Says the guy who whimpered when I—”

A book that looked like it could’ve taken Liam’s head off if thrown at a slightly different angle hit him in the nose, and Liam yelled, waving his hands around to steady himself. That, unfortunately, resulted in him knocking off his own laptop, and the picture of his room circled around, blurred and went totally dark.

“Maybe they will kill each other and we won’t have to deal with their weird flirting anymore,” concluded Malia, and Stiles gaped at her.

“Flirting? You call that…” he struggled to get the rest of the sentence out by choking on his own tongue, “are you absolutely sure they are together-together, because that didn’t look—”

“Oh, we are sure,” Corey wrinkled his nose, “more sure than we’d like to be.”

“I second this,” chuckled Mason, and just like that, no matter how hard Stiles tried to circle back to the potential danger of Theo dating Liam, conversation shifted to the future summer break, plans, hang-outs and trips.

And honestly? Ever since that call Stiles couldn’t wait to be back home.

Not because of the summer break. Summer, of course, was good as a concept, and it highlighted Stiles’ freckles and made his skin strawberry pink while Scott paraded around with the most picture-perfect tan ever, and it smelled like ice-cream and all-night hangouts and freshly cut grass, and for some reason made Stiles’ dad smile more, as if all the warmth and sun brought him back to the good times with less monsters and cares.

However, Stiles had a talent for getting obsessed with things he didn’t understand. No, even better—he had a talent for investigating the things he didn’t understand until he could confidently say that if needed, he could write a whole book on the subject. It just happened so that currently, LiamandTheo made absolutely no sense.

Stiles recognized that his tendencies of going deep into the trenches of “observe, think, pin down, look, understand” weren’t… well, common. Normal kids didn’t spend their nights reading every article on hair follicles just because they were fascinated by how age turned black and red and gold into silver and wanted to know how and why it happened. In Stiles’ line of life and work, meticulousness never hurt anyone.

And it wasn’t that he thought Theo would go off the rails and slit all their throats one night. It was nothing like that. Stiles was stubborn, but he wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Theo. He had countless opportunities to turn his back on the pack, yet he stayed—as Stiles was well aware, to drive Liam around and help him to do his homework.

Homework didn’t have an evil ring to it. Stiles could’ve subscribed to the idea of Theo being a chauffeur and a tutor, but Liam’s boyfriend? Theo Raeken? The same nine-year-old kid who once looked Stiles dead in the eye and said that he believed love was nothing but a concept invented by desperate people? The teenager who grew up in the sewers of dozens of cities and was raised by three faceless psycos? Same Theo who killed his own packmates because he was hungry for power before recognition?

Granted, Theo had changed, and Stiles even admitted it once, but still. Theo didn’t do anything unless there was something he could gain from it. His ever-calculating, manipulative mind would never allow him to be just selfless. It had been injected into Theo’s veins to be a perfect weapon and to survive no matter what, so excuse Stiles for not buying the cute-caring-honest-boyfriend act.

Liam certainly had a thing for mean people, but Liam was a freaking golden retriever puppy. He would let Darth Vader pet him. Stiles was not trusting his judgment, because while Liam wasn’t exactly dumb, love did weird things to human brains. Stiles would know. He was friends with Scott McCall.

Thus, upon arriving at Beacon Hills, Stiles started doing what he did best. Investigating.

And that was how he ended up glaring in frustration at his current dilemma. Also known as the pack’s movie night.

You see, Stiles was an awkward person, and he sure as hell couldn’t keep it together around his crush, but even after he did a lot of thinking and grew up, there was still a part of him that wanted to reach out to Lydia and just touch. Make sure she was real. That he hadn’t imagined her by his side like he used to do before Scott got bitten and Stiles was fourteen and helplessly in love with the most popular girl in school.

And Stiles wasn’t even a werewolf, or chimera, or—anything freaky. But he knew how it was when a lupine creature found a mate (the term tasted like pure cringe in his mouth, but there was nothing Stiles could do about that): scenting became a primal instinct, a tradition to follow of sorts. He was fairly sure every member of the pack started smelling at least a little bit like Scott on the second day of their summer break, because Scott was the alpha and they belonged to him (there was that cringe again, but Stiles’ entire life had become cringe so... whatever), but it tended to be even more intense when romance was involved.

And Stiles was starting to question whether there was any romance between Liam and Theo, because really—they didn’t act like it.

At all.

“No, we are not doing Lord of the Rings marathon,” Mason rolled his eyes at Liam’s offended face, “each movie is like, three hours long, Li, nobody has that strength of will!”

“Those movies are classic,” argued Corey, and Mason’s gaze shifted to him.

“You will be the one to fall asleep on me in twenty minutes.”

Corey sent Liam an apologetic smile. “That’s true.”

Liam let out an irritated breath and pulled Theo’s sleeve to get his attention. “Help me convince these idiots that the best saga of all time should be savored whole—oh, and we can watch the director’s cut, too!”

Theo threw Liam the most unimpressed glance Stiled had seen in his entire life. “I don’t want to know what the director’s cut even is. You and your nerdy brain should’ve really stayed home.”

Liam scoffed. “It was you who wanted to stay home, Theo.”

“Hoped to get a break from you, really.”

Stiles immediately felt offended. He, of course, believed that the best saga of all time was Star Wars, but he wasn’t going to argue on the topic, because his mind was elsewhere.

Now, sarcasm might’ve been Stiles’ first line of defense, but there was a balance between being sarcastic and mean. He wasn’t sure Theo got the memo of the said balance.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was expecting to change, having given the idea of LiamandTheo quite a lot of thought, but he certainly didn’t expect to encounter… that. Theo behaved like he was forced to be in Liam’s presence. Reserved, cold, irritated nine times out of ten, Theo was willingly waving red flags in front of Liam’s very nose, Liam turning a blind eye on every single one of them.

It was the first time Stiles got to hang out with not just Liam and Theo, but with LiamandTheo, and he didn’t like it. They ended up watching the first Narnia movie, (which was Lydia’s favorite, so Stiles knew it by heart,) and instead of keeping his eyes on the screen, he found himself studying the new happy couple. Or, “happy” “couple”. Quotation on both words for the irony.

And that was how Stiles discovered they weren’t big on PDA in the first place.

And listen, it wasn’t like he yearned to see the chimera of death sucking on the beta’s tongue. Stiles was many things, but a creep wasn’t one of them, and in his head, Liam was still a freaking baby. He didn’t even expect to watch them make out like the world was ending—but he was starting to think that they barely did at all.

There was no peck on the lips when Liam grabbed a cherry coke not only for himself, but for Theo, too. No touch of gratitude, not even a glance, just a dry “thanks” that must’ve escaped Theo’s lips by some gruesome mistake. They sat next to each other, but didn’t even touch—not their shoulders, not their knees, not even their knuckles. Nothing.

If Mason had kept his mouth shut during that call, Stiles would’ve never guessed they were something more than enemies turned allies. And it was messing with his head.

“Something is wrong,” blurted out Stiles when the pack started migrating to their respective houses, leaving him, Scott, Malia and Lydia in the McCall kitchen.

Scott, who was stacking pizza boxes atop one another in a way that made them look like the Tower of Pisa, turned his head, his eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Theo,” pressed Stiles, and Lydia sighed a small “here we go again” from where she was sitting at the kitchen island. Stiles passed by her, his hand involuntarily brushing over her shoulders, because it was the most normal thing to do and because Stiles was allowed, and nodded at the window. There, the Puppy Pack gathered around Theo’s truck, talking about… something.

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze and shook his head.

“I know you don’t trust him—”

“It’s hard to trust someone who did what he did,” snapped Stiles, “but it’s not his loyalty to the pack I’m worried about. It’s…” he paused, staring at the window. Mason and Corey, apparently, were giving Nolan a ride, their trio getting in Mason’s car and leaving Liam and Theo to their devices.

Technically alone, the couple didn’t try and move closer—if anything, they drifted further apart and, if gestures and body language were anything to go by, arguing. Liam’s side was pressed into the truck’s hood, and Theo was leaning onto the driver’s door, leniently responding to Liam’s remarks.

“I don’t think he is good to him,” he said at last, his gaze drifting back to Scott. “Liam.”

“Want me to punch him?” Malia lifted her head, and Scott shook his head.

“Nobody is punching Theo,” he looked at Stiles, “it’s their relationship. I don’t think we have a say in who Liam dates, Stiles.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “But you agree that if we had, Theo wouldn’t have made the list?”

“He changed,” spoke Lydia, snatching the last piece of brownie from the plate before Malia could swallow it whole, “I know you don’t like him, and nobody is forcing you to, but Theo is different now. More… real.”

“We thought he was real senior year, and look where it almost brought us,” mumbled Stiles, reaching out and grabbing the Tower of Pizza Pisa (ha-ha) before it could fall down, “look, I know he isn’t a psycho maniac anymore—but you can’t convince me that Theo has an inch in all 5’8 of him that actually cares for Liam. As in, wants to hold his hand and stare lovingly into his eyes and kiss him until the moon dies. You know, typical teenage romance shenanigans?”

Lydia chewed her brownie, looking thoughtful. “But do we think that Theo—and Liam too, actually—are typical teenagers?”

“Exactly,” sighed Scott, closing the dishwasher soap dispenser and pushing the door shut, “I can sense Liam in my head, remember? And he is happier than he ever was before, I promise. I don’t... really feel Theo, because he is an idiot and keeps pushing me away, but what I do feel doesn’t alert me—quite the opposite, actually.”

Stiles bit his lip, looking between his friends. He did trust Scott’s senses, but it was also true that Scott had been wrong before. Crucially wrong. And it was water under the bridge now, because they all found a way to move on, push past their offenses and differences and mistakes, but it didn’t change the fact that Scott trusted people easily and was as naive as a princess in a tower.

And Liam, obviously, turned out exactly the same.

Maybe Theo didn’t want to really hurt him. Maybe he had what he always wanted to—a pack, but he realized that he needed some sort of validation, admiration, actually, and twisted and turned Liam’s barriers until the boy fell in love with him. Liam always liked people who were mean to him. And had a tendency to fall for his anchors. Theo surely knew that and used it for his own advantage, like he always did.

Of course, there was no way Stiles could say his thoughts out loud without coming out as paranoid, and to be honest, he didn’t want to burden anyone with his raw theories. His dad always said that proof was steel that nothing could break, so Stiles would have to look for that before making further advances on the topic.

After all, it was summer break. They all deserved a little rest.

The problem was, Stiles was restless.

[aquamarixx]

second rate stand-in

in which reo is reminded how shitty it feels to be just a substitute.

⁺₊ ❆ ANGSTMAS 2024 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing mikage reo x reader word count 878 words tags post manga timeskip, university AU, angst, hurt navigation

Reo Mikage has it all.

An heir to a vast conglomerate and a rising football player, Reo lives a life that most people can only dream of. Money, power, prestige—it’s all within his grasp.

Yet, none of it matters. Not when he doesn’t have you.

You’re just an ordinary university student. Another face he shares four years of his life with. Someone he occasionally works on projects with, exchanges polite nods with in class, and maybe, at best, maintains a casual rapport.

But unlike everyone else, you don’t treat him like a prince. You walk into his life as an academic rival—unimpressed, unphased. Not a fangirl, not lovesick. Just you, someone determined to beat him.

It would’ve been easier to dismiss you if you were like everyone else, fawning over him for his last name or his talent. But you’re not. You see through the sheen of his perfect life and meet him eye-to-eye.

To you, Reo Mikage isn’t a golden boy. He’s competition.

How the fuck is someone so good at sports, life, and everything despite having a jam-packed schedule? you think.

You’re already struggling with your academics, wanting to graduate top of your class with the best damn grades. Meanwhile, Reo casually breezes through his life as if it’s a walk in the park.

This only makes you want to challenge him, question how someone with his packed schedule still aces exams and projects. It infuriates you.

And him? He finds it exhilarating.

For the first time in years, Reo feels alive. You remind him of the fire he had in Blue Lock—the drive, the hunger to prove himself. And oh boy, he wants to prove himself to you that he’s the real deal.

He faces your competitive nature head-on, enjoying every time he sees your pretty face contorted in frustration when he sassily shows off his better grades. No matter what half-hearted insults you throw his way, it only fuels the fire in him.

He loves your attention and loves how you unknowingly think of him, even though not in the way everyone else does.

To you, he isn’t a billionaire heir or a football prodigy. He’s just someone to outdo. A competition. A rival.

And he falls for you because of it.

Over time, the rivalry softens into friendship. The snarky remarks give way to late-night study sessions, inside jokes, and “friendly” coffee dates. You let your guard down, showing him the side of you that’s self-deprecating, witty, and warm. And Reo? He’s hooked.

But you aren’t his to love. You have a boyfriend—someone who holds your heart. So, he swallows his feelings and settles for the sidelines, the friend who’s always there.

Nagi mocks him whenever he talks about you. “You’re not the type to wait, Reo. Go after what you want.”

It’s not like him to be passive. He learned the hard way how it is to be in a dog-eat-dog world back in Blue Lock. That anything and everything can be his for the taking, if he wants to. And he can.

But you aren’t a trophy or a goal. You’re you. And he can’t risk losing you altogether.

Even when you break up, he holds back. He tells himself it isn’t the right time, that you need space. Instead, he becomes your rock—picking up the pieces your ex leaves behind. Coffee runs, shared meals, walks home. Every small gesture is his way of saying what he can’t.

Reo tries to fill the void, doing everything your ex never did. But no matter how much he gives, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s a stand-in. A poor substitute for someone you loved deeply.

Then comes Christmas.

Reo spends weeks searching for the perfect gift. A simple silver charm bracelet, each charm representing significant memories you’ve shared with him that he holds dear. It’s more than a present; it’s a confession. He just needs to see you. So he texts you that night, his heart pounding.

Are you free tonight? Can I see you?

Before your reply comes, his phone buzzes with an Instagram notification. It’s your story.

There you are, smiling next to your ex.

The caption reads “Catching up,” but it doesn’t matter. The sight crushes him. His grip on his phone tightens as he stares at the screen. A dozen emotions surge through him—jealousy, doubt, hopelessness.

What’s the point? How can he compete with someone who already has a place in your heart?

He sets his phone down, unable to look at it any longer. The charm bracelet sits on his coffee table, glinting under the glow of the Christmas tree lights.

“I’ll never be him,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

Reo lets himself imagine it. A world where he’s enough. Where he doesn’t have to live in someone else’s shadow. Where your smile is for him and him alone.

But that isn’t his reality.

Maybe next time. Maybe next time, I’ll have the courage to tell you. But not tonight.

Tonight, all he can do is carry the weight of his feelings, as silent and heavy as snowfall. Alone.

“Merry Christmas,” he types, sending it to you. The greeting leaves a bitter taste in his mouth because he's sure it doesn’t feel like one at all.

amari's notes: this was actually the firs piece i wrote for angstmas. i just accidentally saw a reo post here on tumblr and thought how fun it would be to break his heart (jk im kidding) im beginning to love his character, along with chigiri tbh. anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf 100520s

[girl4music]

Those last 2 episodes. Appropriately titled ‘Heart Part 1’ and ‘Heart Part 2’ because my heart is so full. I have so much to say and have no idea where to start with it.

So much happened. Every lead character’s individual arc was thoroughly concluded in a very satisfying way. Even some of the recurring ones got an endgame so there’s a lot to cover in this recap of a fantastic finale and I feel so fulfilled on great storytelling and great representation packed into a neatly tied up ending.

MAJOR SPOILERS: do not read this if you have not seen the finale of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.

I guess I’ll start with Shadow Weaver because she had an endgame that I had predicted. Well, sort of. I said that Shadow Weaver’s arc can only go in 1 of 2 ways. I said it was either personal attainment (villainy) or personal sacrifice (heroism). So I wasn’t surprised when it was the latter. But I wasn’t able to trust in her going that way sincerely until she started attacking that monster, told Catra that she was proud of her, took off her mask and then told them both ‘you’re welcome’. I couldn’t trust that she was sincerely helping them to achieve releasing and channelling the Heart of Etheria’s magic… which by the way, is what almost brought them to the brink of destruction the first time they tried to do it. However, I understood that because She-Ra was the conduit for that, that it could have a different outcome. Still destructive but destructive only to the opposition. I think anyway. I might have to rewatch that part again because I don’t think I fully understood what was going on there. But yes, Shadow Weaver went out in a heroes death rather than was the cause of her own demise out of hunger for power and a desire to attain the magic of the Heart Of Etheria for selfish aim. I was happy with it.

Glimmer and Bow: I decided to talk about these 2 lead characters together since part of their arc involves each other. It was no surprise to me that they would declare their love for each other. I mean Glimmer has always had a crush on Bow and they’ve been the very best of friends since they were children. I wasn’t sure about Bow at first but I knew intense romantic feelings would develop and I’m glad it was Glimmer who said it first. I am a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a kiss on the lips but I think I understand why that was. I’ll get there. Be patient. There’s way too much to talk about first and I really want to save Catradora until the very last section because I’ll have the most to say about them as a lot of their arc informs well… pretty much the whole TV show.

Glimmer individually had more of an arc in the TV show than Bow did so a significant amount of my meta goes to her. It was mainly how she was fairing as Queen but also how useful she could be to the team because of it. Then of course there was Micah. Reuniting with him but having to battle with him because he was an unwilling agent of Horde Prime. I laughed with pure joy when the influence on him ended and he said “Hi, I’m your dad.” I really felt for Glimmer when she was desperately trying to heal him and she said “I won’t lose another parent!” So it was so satisfying for me to realize she healed him and that she poured all the love she could into that heal and when she succeeded, the proud smile that he wore must have made her feel like Queen of the world, never mind just her little town of Brightmoon. She deserves it.

Likewise it was wonderful to see how proud Bow’s dads were of him when he gave that rousing battle speech to the reawakened masses of Etherians, telling them to be their own warriors and fight for their home. It was right that it was Bow to do that rather than Adora or Glimmer because that is what he had trained himself to do from the beginning. He wants to be an archer battling on the side of the greater good and not a historian. So to see his dads holding each other, proudly watching him… it brought a tear to my eye, I have to admit. So beautiful!

Hordak and Entrapta: I had no idea that I would get a closure for Entrapta, let alone Hordak. I did and I’m so happy about it because even though she was only a recurring character, Entrapta buried her way into my science, tech and engineering loving heart (with a spanner and a blowtorch? You will never know 🤣) but I am glad that she got over her obsession enough to focus on what really mattered. Saving her friends.

The fact that what stopped Horde Prime wasn’t Adora or Glimmer or who you would expect, but Hordak and Entrapta? That hit so hard with me. To give THEM the hero moment of defeating the villain. I was like “Oh my god! That’s brilliant!” Because it is. Think about it. Who do you think Horde Prime tortured the most? His Little Brother! I still don’t know if that was literally or not. 🤷‍♀️ Was he actually related or was he just another clone because he did call Catra his “Little Sister” too? That’s still so creepy to me. But yeah, for Hordak to get that moment of retribution was absolutely delicious for me and then for Entrapta to reach him when Horde Prime tried to take over through the Hive Mind? So, so, good! That made total sense and it was brilliantly executed!

Scorpia and Mermista: The only reason to lump these 2 characters together is because they were chipped and controlled the longest that they caused significant damage to Etherians. There’s not really much to say about them other than that they’re going to have huge headaches now that this is all over due to how far gone they were. I mean I’m glad that they were able to save them but I just don’t know what the aftermath will be for them or whether they will be the same ever again.

From the way I watched and interpreted the TV show, I understood that one of the main narrative themes of it was psychological conditioning and I’ve been in awe that this children’s show was brave enough to tell that very dark story,… let alone see it right through until the end because it’s an ambitious, elaborate and difficult narrative undertaking. Especially to do it properly,… which they definitely did. To tell the darkness of… well… basically radicalization and genocide but to do so in such a way that it could teach and motivate kids to develop on their innate judgement and discernment so if - god forbid - they ever end up in that situation, they’ll know exactly what to do about it. With team She-Ra being their idols, they’ll be able to fight conditioning. I can imagine that’s what the creators intended with this and I cannot acknowledge and commend them on it high enough. I think that ND Stevenson and the entire creative team are incredibly courageous and amazing to make this a main thematic narrative all throughout this TV show and handle it with skill and compassion that it does not once come across as too much for PG.

Catradora: (Yes, I’m using the ship name because the way they tie up their individual character storyline arcs seamlessly also ties in with their romantic arc and you do not know how hard it is to find this with WLW ships.)

First off, I want to point out something that may or may not have been pointed out before with Catradora but this is just how it came across to me in the narrative given I interpret psychological conditioning as a main theme within it. To me, a lot of the reason why Catra is the way she is as a villainous character when it comes to receiving love and affection has do with this factor. She’s so closed off and repressed to the point that she cannot even see that she’s corrupting and sabotaging herself. She is a lot like Xena in this way. But a major striking difference for Catra is that she physically loses the one person in the world that stops her from doing this, whereas Xena physically gains that one person. Trust issues, abandonment issues, parental issues all tie in together - but that was all tolerable when Adora was around her. As soon as Adora leaves her behind in the Fright Zone and, furthermore, begins to oppose her as the hero of Etheria, she spirals so hard and so fast that all of those issues - which were always issues caused by the abusive treatment from Lord Hordak and Shadow Weaver - come crashing down one by one on top of her because she no longer has the person who makes those issues just inconveniences for her. Not only that but … it feels like personal betrayal for her that Adora fights her. She genuinely does think that Adora hates her. I mean who wouldn’t if they were in her shoes (paws?) and had the “upbringing” and “nurturing” backstory she’s had? So Catra has this preconceived notion that Adora never cared about her and left her because she thought she was better than her and was chasing after heroic glory and believes that she was too weak to go with her. In a way it’s a personal vendetta out of misunderstandings Catra has against Adora and those feelings are intense not just because the Horde brainwashing is that deep and severe but also because her love is that deep too and she can’t differentiate which feelings are which. So she becomes She-Ra’s mortal enemy because in her mind, She-Ra is what has taken Adora away from her.

But obviously, from Adora’s side, She-Ra was sprung on her, Etheria was sprung on her. In fact her entire world upended once she recognized her life for what it was. A lie. That she was the villain brutalizing innocent people. She couldn’t go back to them even if she had wanted to because everything she had ever knew was fraudulent and she had been coerced and deceived into being a weapon. And what I really like about Adora’s individual arc is that eventually this was revealed to be true on both sides of the war. She was a weapon for evil and for the greater good. But all she wanted - as all heroes do - was just to protect and defend her loved ones. That’s it. Catra could never see it that way though and it makes sense that she couldn’t given her conditioning was even worse as it involved one-on-one attacks from Shadow Weaver as well as whatever the treatment was with the entire group. Catra’s psychological conditioning was much more personal, intimate and isolated so what was ingrained into her had much deeper and stronger layers added on to it. Hers was a solid brick wall built trauma complex. Those are always much harder to recognize and escape from but with the right therapy,… it can be done. Given her issues weren’t so bad when Adora was around her but got much worse when Adora left her… it is clear that Adora represented a sort of therapy for her. Adora helped her keep all the crippling thoughts of self-doubt and self-contempt at bay. But they were on full volume when Adora left and kept attempting to kill her.

Okay, so let’s finally get on to their romantic arc and how the finale not only concluded their individual character representation and development arcs but also ended their ship slow burn. It wasn’t until the fantastic episode of ‘Save The Cat’ did I realize they were going there. See,… to start with, I knew that they were going to become a canon WLW couple at some point otherwise I would have never started watching it. That was the draw for me. That they were both lead characters in a canon WLW ship in a children’s TV show. That floored me. But I was not prepared at all for what I got to see in the finale. It was groundbreaking. It was phenomenal. In fact I’m sure it was life changing for many queer kids to see that kiss happen the way it did. Or… just happen on-screen at all. Look, I am so used to the “implied” and “assumed” and “disguised” when it comes to WLW physical intimacy that I just do not ever expect blatant leaves-absolutely-no-doubt-whatsoever kisses. I certainly don’t expect WLW kisses written and portrayed as “the power of love” kind. It’s extremely rare. To see it in a children’s show nailed me to the floor. But furthermore - added on to that astonishing feat - is that both lead characters overcome all their issues and obstacles through that very act like… a fairytale story. It’s like… when the Princess kisses the Princess, all is well… there’s no stopping either from that point on. It seems corny but it all just depends on how it’s done. But the fact is you don’t see it done between WLW at all. So to see it done WELL alongside seeing it done at all… I mean Indy knew that he had an assignment with this but the phrase “he understood the assignment” doesn’t cover or justify what was accomplished with this and I can’t believe it’s took me this long to see it.

Every TV art/entertainment creator should watch this TV show and regard this finale as the perfect example of what queer representation can and should provide in TV because this was just the epitome of what true love is. But the fact it was between 2 female lead characters.

I can’t even begin to explain how much it meant to me but I will spend the rest of my life trying to express it because this really was a groundbreaking achievement and I will be adding this WLW ship to my very short list of WLW ships that shape and satisfy every piece of me.

I have had the best fucking time watching this TV show and I will be doing reruns of it for god knows how long because I am sure there is so much more there for me just like there is with Xena, Buffy, Charmed, Dragon Ball Z, Wynonna Earp and Arcane. All these beloved shows are timeless to me for a reason and She-Ra is the same.

I hope you all enjoyed reading my recaps of my very first watch of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. 🎄

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Your comment and tags on my little blurb made my whole week I adore you so much thank you!! As a fellow disabled girly he just means a lot to me and I’m so glad the community is loving on this. Also your fics are scrumptious ok bye💖💖

Asfdfff OMG I just saw your ask hi 💕💕💕!! I was literally SO happy when I saw your post, because I legit didn't know if a lot of other people felt the way I did. A good chunk of what happened with season 2 really stung ("you shouldn't have tried to cure your deadly degenerative decease Viktor, it made you who you were as a person"🤡), especially because of just how much I've looked up to Viktor in my personal health journey.

Like, if Viktor, sexiest and smartest man on goddamn planet earth, could still study and dedicate himself to his passion, even at his worst... I could do it. If he could keep going, not knowing whether or not he would make it a couple more weeks or a couple more months, with his perfect head held high, I could do it. And, really importantly, if he could still be so insanely sexy with a disability and visible signs of illness... then so could I!

THAT'S why representation matters so much. We need characters like Viktor, who are affected by their disability and illness in a realistic way, but without it taking away from their ability to be attractive, charming, seductive, and, everyone repeat after me, SEXUALLY ACTIVE 📢📢📢 !!!

There are literally SO few disabled/chronically ill characters who are presented as sexual beings in media because it makes a very vocal crowd """uncomfortable""" and its much less easily marketable. That's why only a single of his LoL skins features his leg brace, despite there being no reason for it to be absent from AUs like High Noon or Death Sworn. That's why he's suddenly fit, muscular and able bodied. Oh and his back brace ? Just fully gone. The one skin that's supposed to be linked directly to Arcane even erases all the scars we've canonically seen on his skin.

WHO EVEN IS THIS??????

THIS is Viktor's body. It has scars, medical braces, pedical screws, a bony frame and visible signs of illness. If you don't like that, get off my blog and never look at me or my fucking husband ever again.

The truth is just that for a video game company like Riot, sex sells, but visible disability and signs of chronic illness don't. So...✨️poof✨️, Viktor now has a conventionally attractive body and a six pack so we can be sure the majority of people will be attracted to him! I actually CANNOT believe there isn't a single person at the company who sees the hypocrisy of that, after they tried to sell the whole "your imperfections made you you" ending. I'm just... mad, dissapointed, and tired of all of that.

So, I've made the executive decision to throw all that shit in the garbage, because fuck you, Viktor is disabled, and chronically-ill, and he FUCKS. I literally do not care. You SEEN the way this man walks around in Act 1 ?? The passion in his eyes, the smirk on his lips, the sensuality of his hands??? Only a man who's sucked dick and eaten pussy around the Academy would have that kind of swag, bro has comfortably been around.

A N Y W A Y I'm sorry about the long rant I had to let that all out,,,

TLDR Viktor belongs to the disabled/chronically ill community and his cock is huge.

((Also omg thank you so much for reading my work💞💞💞!!!))

[bitchapalooza]

Koushiro cleans out a few things and packs it up to send to Zoro; a few old bandanas, some clothes he assumes he can probably still wear, but most importantly some old photos of him and Kuina and few of the other students. And a note detailing how the dojo has been, how the current students adore reading about his adventures.

When it arrives at the Sunny by Coo Zoro isn't around, he's in town with a few of the others. But Sanji, Usopp and Brook are there. They receive the package. Usopp tries to be the logical one and keeps his hands off it—but Brook and Sanji are terrible influences, it's not his fault the knife ended up in his hands! They rooted through the box and when they finally got to the photos they laughed their asses off because the photos ranged from a short little brat too skinny for his briches to an awkward bastard of a teenaged Zoro, moody faced and all. They all get the fun idea to plaster his childhood photos all over the ship.

When Zoro gets back it's hours after everyone else (he didn't get lost, shhhh). Everyone is on deck laughing their asses off, cooing, looking at a dozen somethings. Zoro asks what's so funny, no one will spill—until he gets to Luffy who can't hold it any longer and flips around the handful of photos he has with a barely contained laugh. His face flushes, he cringes at seeing his zit filled dorky face, that terrible haircut he gave himself without a mirror that summer. And then his face falls. He's silent. One by one he goes up to everyone and calmly snatches the photos up, ignoring the attempts at teasing from Sanji. With all the photos gathered, just as silent and calm, he climbs the ladder to the crows nest.

One of Robin's appendages pops up 20 minutes later, catching sight of Zoro sitting along the curve of the crows nest bench by the cracked open window, a little nostalgic smile on his lips as he goes through photos, Wado Ichimonji directly at his side. Inside the galley where the whole rest of the crew sits tense, thinking they really screwed up, went too far, hurt their friend—Robin informs everyone he's fine and to leave him be for a while.

The next morning, Zoro wakes up with an ache in his neck and back after having fallen asleep on the bench awkwardly. He swings his feet around and stretches, his foot landing on something other than hardwood flooring. A book? No, not exactly. A photo album. An empty one with more than enough slots to fill. A note falls out with Robin's signature curly handwriting addressing it specifically to Zoro, with an added illegible comment from either Luffy or Chopper, hard to tell when their handwriting is so terribly similar. He smiles a little and starts arranging the photos in a specific way, starting with the photograph of him on the steps of the dojo, his official first day as a student. And ending it on him and Kuina plus a few more boys in their class at one of the many festivals the village organized, all dressed up nice for the festivities, various treats in hand.

The album slowly fills with more photos. Zoro and Luffy sitting in a large tree they both raced to climb. Zoro with Nami and Robin, Zoro carrying over five overfilled bags of shopping. Usopp pulling the peace sign in front of a sleeping Zoro and Franky with various mark scrawled all over, Sanji and Luffy peeking in the back with permanent markers in hand. And so much more...

[bobfloydsbabe]

make the tables turn (the rewrite) | jake seresin x oc

a turning tables fic

SUMMARY: Jake goes in for a routine physical, but is shocked to learn that his doctor is Jasmine Lane—the woman he tried to take home the night before.

WARNINGS: Getting weighed, inaccurate medical stuff. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

A/N: I decided to not take down the original chapters of Turning Tables, so you can still find the fic in its original iteration. It will remain up until I'm done with the rewrite, so you can still enjoy the story in its entirety.

ORIGINAL MASTERLIST | REWRITE MASTERLIST

“Thank you, Lt. Garcia. That’s all for today,” Jas said, putting a final note in his chart.

“Thank you, Dr. Lane,” he said with a crooked smile and did the last few buttons on his khaki uniform. He bid her goodbye with a small wave, exiting the treatment room. 

Leaving the door slightly ajar, she heard him speak to someone in the waiting area, wishing them luck. She glanced at the file of her next victim, confirming that the voice in the waiting room belonged to exactly who she thought.

Martha, the head nurse, came in to top up the supply of needles on the cart in the corner. “Who’s your next victim?” She asked and straightened the already straight line of needle packs.

Martha had become a reassuring presence when Jas was first reassigned to Top Gun. She was a shoulder to lean on and she listened to Jas’ rants about how much she hated prescribing fluids and rest to men who really should be able to handle a little flu without seeing a medical professional. Martha brought her coffee on their shared night shifts and told Jas to get it together when she complained about the long and boring hours.

“Can you please send in Lt. Seresin?”

Martha’s eyes narrowed. “Watch out for that one,” she warned and went to collect him from the waiting area.

Sitting in her chair, Jas tried not to grin at the prospect of the look on his face when he saw her. He had no idea he was about to come face to face with the woman he had failed to take home.

She heard him before she saw him.

“Listen, Doc, I’m in peak physical condi…” he trailed off, stopping in his tracks just inside the threshold of her office, eyes trained on her. Martha closed the door behind him, sending Jas a knowing look.

“I’m sure you are, lieutenant,” Jas said and stood, offering her hand for him to shake, which he took with a skeptical look in his green eyes. “But you’re required to be here, so suck it up. I’m Dr. Lane.”

“You,” was all he said.

“Me.” She let go of his hand and gestured to the exam table. “Have a seat.”

He didn’t move. He looked every bit as attractive in the fluorescent lighting of her office as he had in the yellowish glow of the bar the night before. The only difference was the accusatory gleam in his eyes. “You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

“You didn’t ask,” Jas answered and gestured for him to sit once more.

His eyes hardened, but he still sat. “I asked what you did for work,” he argued.

“That you did,” she agreed. “And I told you I’m a doctor, which I am.” She waved a hand around her office at all the medical equipment, then adjusted the stethoscope around her neck for good measure. She shouldn’t wear it that way for safety, but old habits die hard.

He stared at her. “You lied.”

“I didn’t.”

“Lying by omission is still lying.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but you were too busy trying to get in my pants to notice.” His mouth flattened into a tight line while his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you ready to begin?”

He grumbled a yes and answered a few routine questions. When Jas asked him to stand at the measurement on her wall, he did so without complaint. She joined him and brought the block down, noting the height on his chart.

“Have I grown, Doc?”

It was as if he’d flipped a switch. The sour mood of just a moment ago now replaced with an easy smile and a confident lilt to his tone. Jas saw it for what it was: an attempt to get the upper hand, but she had played this game many times before. He would have to do better if he wanted her to crack.

She met his gaze. “No.”

His brows drew together for an almost indiscernible second before he schooled his expression back into the unbothered folds of before.

Jas consulted with her checklist. “Okay, if you’ll just hop on the scale for me.” He turned to it, but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Without your shoes.” 

He glowered. Gone was the smirk and the air of nonchalance he tried too hard to put on. In its stead was a seething temperament and barely concealed frustration. If she wasn’t enjoying this so much, she might have taken pity on him and stopped taunting him, but he was too much fun to tease. It was his own fault, really. Hadn’t he been cocky in his conviction that he could get Jas to sleep in his bed just the night before?

He sat on the exam table and undid the laces of his standard issue boots in silence.

He stood on the scale, and Jas joined him by it, adjusting it until it was even. She felt his eyes on her, assessing her every move and breath. Usually, her patients were eager to get this part of the exam over and done with, not keen to be weighed, but Hangman seemed unfazed.

“Alright,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “Weight is normal.” She glanced up, finding his eyes still trained on her. The smile had crept back, the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Do I have something on my face, lieutenant?” She asked, stepping away to note the weight on his chart.

“You’re beautiful,” he drawled as he stepped off the scale.

“So you told me last night,” she reminded him, grabbing onto the ends of the stethoscope around her neck. “But charm won’t get me to change your weight.”

He frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“Now, have a seat on the table so I can check your vitals.” He crossed the room to the table and sat. “Remove your uniform shirt.”

He smirked, cocky and self-assured. “If you wanted me to strip, all you had to do was ask,” he said, his voice lower than before as he undid the buttons on his shirt.

“Your undershirt can stay on,” she informed him.

He frowned again, but didn’t argue. He placed the khaki shirt on one end of the table and offered his arm to her, familiar with the process of a physical. Jas placed the blood pressure monitor on his arm and ignored the feeling of his muscles rippling under the surface of his skin. She could make out every corded muscle in his shoulders under the white undershirt, and her mouth went dry.

She could feel him watching her again. Jas bit her lip, concentrating on reading the results on the monitor, not the thrilling feeling of his attention solely on her.

“Okay,” she breathed and undid the band of the monitor. “Blood pressure looks fine.”

“No need to be modest, Doc. It’s perfect,” he proclaimed. “I’ve gotten many compliments on my blood pressure.”

Jas snorted, unable to help herself. “I find that hard to believe.”

She went to her desk to note down the results before moving on to listen to his heart and lungs. Both sounded good, and she was a little annoyed that his numbers were essentially the same as his last physical. Perfect. If there was ever any reason to hate a man, this had to be it.

“Right,” she began. “I’m just going to have a look at your ears and throat. Open up.” She placed a wooden stick on his tongue and shone a light down his throat. She shouldn’t imagine what that mouth would feel like pressed against hers, or what wicked things his tongue could do to her body, but the vision was vivid in her mind. Jas forced the thought from her mind and ignored the fluttering feeling in her stomach. It was the last thing she needed right now. 

After clearing his throat, she looked in his ears and found nothing out of the ordinary there either.

He really was in peak physical condition, and she almost hated him.

The Navy was truly punishing her. She had saved a man’s leg, and this was the thanks she got? Having to check high and mighty fighter pilots over for issues that weren’t there? 

Silently fuming, Jas walked back to the desk once again to check off the throat and ears on her list, then returned to Seresin, who still sat dutifully on the exam table. “I’m just going to check the lymph nodes in your neck, okay? Then we’ll check your vision afterward.”

He smirked. “Go ahead, Doc.” Jas placed her hands on either side of his neck and felt for swelling under the skin.

“How’d you end up stationed here?”

Jas leaned back, hands stilling on his neck. “Why?”

He put his hands up. “Good, old-fashioned curiosity.”

“It’s a long story,” she admitted, hoping the answer would be enough to discourage any further questions. She dropped her hands from his neck and walked to the back wall, turning on the light in the vision chart.

“Do you take any medications?” she asked, handing him the occluder.

He shook his head. “Make a long story short?”

“Not a chance,” she said. “Now, cover your left eye and read the line with the smallest letters you can see.”

He rattled off all the letters on the bottom row without issue and did the same with his right eye. Jas rolled her eyes and took the occluder back from him.

“Any unusual moles or other marks on your skin?”

“No,” he answered. “Tell the story over a drink, then?”

Jas snorted. “Not gonna happen.”

He hummed. “Alright, your loss.”

“Oh no. How will I ever survive?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

His eyes darkened, going from the color of sea glass to mossy green. He stood from the exam table and strode toward her like a predator on the hunt, and Jas’ breath caught in her throat. He stopped right in front of her, their chests a hairbreadth away from each other. He was only a few inches taller than her, but she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

“You’ll change your mind,” he said, voice low and sultry. “Soon, you’ll beg for my time.”

The moment broke.

Jas stifled a groan and placed a hand on his chest, forcing him to take a step back and put distance between them. “I think I need to refer you to a specialist,” she told him seriously.

He frowned. “What’s wrong with me?”

Jas turned back to her desk and picked up his chart. She pretended to study it, allowing herself a moment to regain her composure. “I think you need to have your ego surgically removed,” she explained. “It’s a risky procedure, but you should be just fine. You might even get a date afterward.”

Hangman groaned, running his hands over his face. “Are you done?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Not even close, but I’ll spare you for today. You can put your shirt and boots back on.”

Jas jotted down some additional notes in his chart, including his perfect eye test, as he redressed. She put the pen down and placed her hands in her lab coat while she waited for him to finish tying his shoelaces.

He stood, and their eyes met. A battle of wills locked in a stalemate. His signature smirk spread across his handsome face. “I’ll see you around, Doc,” he said and tipped an invisible hat to her, reaching for the door handle. Jas could acknowledge that he was charming without shuddering at the admission. Almost.

“I’ll count the hours,” she joked.

Hangman abruptly turned around and caged her in between the desk and his body. She could feel the heat radiating off him. He bent his head down, and Jas felt his breath on her lips. Her eyes darted to his for a split second, but he had caught her. She knew by the way the corner of his mouth turned up.

“I’ll be thinking of you tonight,” he said, voice barely audible. The implication was obvious, and Jas’ cheeks grew hot for the first time in his presence. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable in the fluorescent light or she would never hear the end of it.

He stood back, and Jas tried to hide the fact that she had to gasp for air.

“You have a nice day, Dr. Lane.”

He winked at her and exited her office, leaving the door open and allowing the thick tension in the room to dissipate. She was still catching her breath when Martha escorted her next patient into the room.

“Dr. Lane, are you alright?”

Jas snapped her head up, finding Martha and a bespectacled aviator looking at her with worry etched into their features.

She forced a smile. “I’m fine.” She offered her hand to the aviator, who shook it dutifully. “You must be Lt. Floyd. Have a seat.”

As Jas went through Floyd’s physical, her thoughts kept returning to Hangman, trying to understand exactly how he had gained the upper hand.

She wasn’t sure, but she vowed to get it back. Whatever it took.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

i no longer have a taglist. follow @bobfloydsbabe-library for updates.

[rinabin]

dance practice

“fucking seunghan,” you mutter under your breath, turning down yet another hallway. hearing the lack of loud obnoxious music, you realize you’ve gone the wrong way for the third time. groaning internally, you question why you’d tried to find this place yourself instead of simply asking the front desk. and of course seunghan had to not answer his phone at this very moment. granted he was probably practicing but hey!!!! you're a girl struggling in this maze that they called the dance building, you're allowed to be mad.

just as you’re about to take another step, you hear someone calling your name. whipping your head around expecting seunghan to come save you, you see another pair of eyes blinking at you instead.

“wonbin?” you say, surprised. 

wonbin gives you a small wave as he walks up. “what are you doing here? i’ve never seen you around the studio before” he asks.

explaining the dilemma you’re in, wonbin presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to laugh. you pause mid sentence and narrow your eyes at him, “so you think my suffering is funny?”

“no i would never think that,” he says with mock innocence. before you can retort, wonbin offers, “ i’m actually meeting them. you wanna walk together?” you nod, silently thanking wonbin for saving you from yourself.

a silence follows the two of you as you walk through the halls of the dance studio. taking in your environment, you try to memorize the correct turns and corners refusing to be embarrassed like this again.

“how’s daisy?” wonbin asks, catching you off guard.

“huh?” 

“daisy,” he repeats, with a grin, “how is she? i need to make sure i left her in good hands.”

you stare at him, deadpan, “you’re asking me how a stuffed animal is doing?”

wonbin lets out a side smile, “she’s your daughter isn’t she?" 

deciding to play along, you respond, “she’s very well, no thanks to you,” giving him a playful side eye. 

wonbin lets out a scoff, dramatically bringing his hand to his chest, “yn! how are you insult me like this? i literally birthed her.”

"shut up,” you softly shove him with your shoulder walking alongside him.

“soooooooooo, do you dance?” you question.

“not professionally like taro”, wonbin clarifies, “but i do enjoy it. i drop in sometimes when he’s practicing to blow off some steam.” he opens the studio door for you, “we’re here”. 

spotting seunghan, you immediately make a beeline towards him. “hey yn- ow what the hell!” seunghan exclaims as you lightly smack the back of his head. 

“that’s for not answering my texts and leaving me to fend for myself in this maze” you huff out. seunghan, confused opens his bag to see the 50 messages you left him on his phone.

“oh my god yn. i am so sorry, i left my phone on dnd” he apologies. "at least you made it here,” seunghan meekly adds.

rolling your eyes for dramatics, you hand him his wallet. observing the studio as seunghan packs his wallet, you see shotaro drinking water. you shyly raise your hand as a greeting, which he returns with a smile and a nod. next to him, you spot wonbin taking off his jacket, revealing a white tank top that showcase his defined arm muscles. feeling your face get warm at the sight, you quickly look back down at seunghan who is still ruffling through his bag. watching him scramble through his bag, you let him know you’re going to head out.

“wait, no don’t go.” seunghan exclaims, standing up from his bag. “we’re gonna go for lunch after. come with us. it’s on me”.

toying with the straps of your jacket, you mumble that you don’t want to be an intrusion. seunghan reassures you that you won’t be, looking over to shotaro for backup. shotaro agrees, encouraging you to stay while wonbin adds a soft “stay” in support. you meet his eyes - maybe for a moment too long - before turning back at seunghan. 

“okay”, you whisper as you slide down to get settled on the floor. as you put your stuff away, you make eye contact with wonbin once again. he meets your gaze with a gentle expression, definitelyyyyyy not leaving you with butterflies in your chest.

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a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays!!! hope u all enjoy my gift to u <3

taglist [send an ask or comment to be added]: @antosaurius@jkeydiary@cherrytaesan@dorritoni@profoundruinsunknown @daegale @choc0br3ad

[crownpastelyellow]

So I wrote something for the Solidaritek football AU @bidoofenergy has made because I have been severely unwell about them.

I recommend reading through the posts before reading this but it also works without prior knowledge of anything.

On my knees for you

Pairing: Solidaritek

Tags and Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Oral Sex, Mild Voyerism, Mutual Pining

Length: 6.5k words

Summary: Tango is a retired football (soccer) player who now works as a sports commentator/interviewer and Jimmy is a popular football player. After spending way too long pining after each other they finally get it on.

A/N: Also fair warning, I do not know much about football. I am not a sports person. Touch this with a good amount of suspension of disbelief please. I just got too unwell about them and it needed an outlet <3

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut

Jimmy’s crush on Tango has slowly been escalating and he is very sure that the tension has been building between the two of them. 

It started with conversations before interviews and Jimmy smiling brightly at Tango, whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned into accidental touches, bumping into one another on occasion and, much to the dismay of Jimmy’s teammates, he had not shut up for weeks after Tango once grabbed his arm to pull him out of the way from someone.

At this point, Jimmy can’t deny that he craves more, so he started hanging around after interviews whenever he could, he learned all about Tango’s career, and tried his hardest to memorize anything that could make him stand out to Tango when their work made them cross paths.

But so far, luck was strictly against Jimmy. Whenever he decided to build up the courage to talk to Tango there was always some sort of interruption and he never got more than a few words in, in private.

Today though, might be Jimmy’s lucky day; they were the last ones in the interview room, Jimmy just awkwardly hanging around as Tango picks up some of his notes, not aware of the other one still in the room.

This is Jimmy’s chance. Grian was not here to make fun of him for being a mess around Tango, his coach had already left and nobody else could demand Tango’s attention. No, today he would be cool and charm the commentator with… Something. He can figure it out along the way. Maybe he could just ask Tango out for a drink, or he could- “Oh, hey, Jimmy, you’re also still here.” Tango says, smiling at Jimmy, instantly making him forget anything he had planned on saying.

And from there it only just gets worse. “You did well out there today”, Tango casually praises Jimmy, whose mouth opens and closes again till he eventually lets out a “Thanks”, that is just a bit too strangled, earning a chuckle from the other man who isn’t even looking at Jimmy anymore, more focused on his bag and papers.

As Tango finishes packing up, Jimmy shakes his head to get out of his stupor. If he doesn’t shoot his shot now, he might miss yet another chance. Jimmy makes his way towards the other man, a confident grin on his face. He just needs to be smooth now.

“Hey, Tango,I really enjoyed the interview today, your questions are always the best. I wanted to ask -” Jimmy says, the words coming out just a little bit too quickly, and he walks with just a little bit too much bounce in his step. His foot catches on a cable that wasn’t properly covered up, and he trips, his large frame falling right into Tango’s arms, who, to Jimmy’s absolute delight, manages to catch him with ease.

Jimmy is too awestruck at being so close to Tango, feeling his strong arms around his torso, to consider being embarrassed, or to move away. Instead he just looks up at Tango, unable to tear his gaze away from his lips.

“Careful there, buddy” Tango says with a laugh but Jimmy can see the other man gulp.

Maybe, just maybe, Jimmy hasn’t fucked this whole thing up just yet.

If this doesn’t work out how he imagines that he is going to be in deep shit but Jimmy cannot stop himself at this point.

As he closes his eyes, not wanting to see a potential expression of dread on Tango’s face, he finds his footing again and leans himself up again, just enough so that his lips meet Tango’s.

For a moment, Jimmy is convinced that he has just made a huge mistake, one that could, in the worst case, affect his whole career. A mistake he made because he was thinking with his dick again instead of -

Tango kisses him back.

At first the movement of his lips is barely noticeable to Jimmy who was so focused on how warm Tango is, how his beard tickles against Jimmy’s face and how strong his arms are. 

Jimmy might be a little bit overeager at this point, but he leans further in. Standing up straight now, Tango’s arms still remain wrapped around him, Jimmy is a bit more than a head taller now but still leaning down into the kiss.

His heart is pounding in his chest and Jimmy doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his brain short-circuiting, but when they find Tango’s body, they instantly begin to wander.

——————————————————————————————————

They know they can’t stay in the small interview room, too many people might walk in, with all the equipment that is still in here.

“Locker room” Jimmy mumbles into a kiss, and a few seconds later they part, and Tango sees the way Jimmy’s eyes are lit up with excitement. 

The locker room isn’t far and it should most definitely be empty by now. They part just long enough, just in case somebody else decided to stick around here, to hurry through the hallway, Jimmy eagerly pulling Tango along who is equally stunned and amused.

Jimmy looks back at Tango with his brown eyes, almost like a puppy begging for a treat and Tango feels his heart melt at the sight.

The second the door closes behind them, Jimmy presses his lips against Tango’s, pushing his back against the door. Tango kisses back instantly, parting his lips with a small smirk, as he lets Jimmy eagerly explore. 

He has been driving Tango insane with his smile, his charisma and just his energy in the plenty of interviews they’ve had at this point. And Tango had wanted this, had kicked himself for craving this for longer than he wants to admit.

But he isn’t pushing Jimmy away now. No one in their right mind would push Jimmy Solidarity away if he kisses them like this.

Tango pushes back into the kiss, pushing himself off and away from the door, not wanting to jinx the most awkward accident imaginable, should somebody come in here after all. Not that any other alternative of someone walking in on them would be much better, but Tango decides not to think about those possibilities right now.

They part but only for a moment before Tango finds himself between the side of a locker and Jimmy, who is currently pressing one leg right between Tangos, his thigh just brushing against him just right and Tango already has to bite back a groan.

It doesn’t help when Jimmy trails open mouthed kisses alongside his jaw.

Tango leans further against the wall for support, letting Jimmy kiss his neck with a hunger that surprises him.

He still does not understand what someone like Jimmy wants from someone like him, but for once he decides not to question his luck.

With eager hands Jimmy starts pulling Tango’s polo shirt up slightly, and as one hand explores Tango’s stomach, traveling all the way up over his chest, his other hand starts to undo Tango’s belt.

For a moment Tango is so taken aback by how skilled and practiced Jimmy’s movements are, but after a second or two he gathers himself, placing a hand on Jim’s wrist, immediately stopping the younger one in his eagerness. 

Of course, Jimmy immediately backpedals, stopping, trying to pull back but Tango’s hands remain on his wrists, not letting him remove them either. “Jim, I… Are you sure you want this?” He asks, clearly nervous. More nervous than Jimmy, who’s hands seem to just want to keep moving.

“What? Of course Tango.” Then after a moment he adds “I wanted this for so long. Gosh, Tango, I have been thinking about this for way too long” Jimmy admits and Tango can see his face flush, see the way it spreads past the collar of his shirt and Tango needs to close his eyes. But that only ends up making it worse, his imagination now running wild. Jimmy has been thinking about him? About this?

He almost wants to ask, wants to know what exactly Jimmy has been fantasizing about.

Instead, Tango decides not to push his luck further today. He just needs to make sure that this is really what Jim wants and not something he’ll end up regretting.

“Are you-” Jimmy immediately interrupts him. 

“Yes, Tango. Please, I just, I just want this. I want you.” Jimmy looks down at Tango with pleading eyes, his tone just edging on being whiny. Tango goes weak in the knees at the sight.

Here is this handsome, fit, young man, practically begging for him. Slowly he lets go of Jimmy’s wrists, letting his hands trail slightly up his arms, giving Jimmy a confirming nod.

Tango is still conflicted, of course. He can never really turn his brain off and now is no different. What does Jimmy want with someone like him? Of course, he shouldn’t complain, should just give in but… Tango isn’t exactly in his 20s anymore. His body, while still fit for his age, shows that. And he is not exactly one for random flings anymore, he doesn’t even really remember how long it has been since the last time he did something this spontaneous. 

Of course he’d want more from this, in the best case, but now is not exactly the time to ask for that. He closes his eyes again, unable to stifle the sigh that escapes his lips as Jimmy finally undoes the zipper of his pants. 

Tango leans back, the metal of the locker cold against the back of his shirt that Jimmy is still pulling up.

With his head leaning back, Tango lets out a shaky breath. He can already feel his dick harden inside his pants even if, despite Jimmy’s eagerness, he hasn’t even touched Tango yet.

Jimmy slowly, very slowly, sinks down to his knees, hands on Tango's waist to steady himself. Even on his knees, brown eyes looking up at him, he seems tall. Tango can’t help but stare at him like this, broad shoulders, strong arms, tousled hair and he knows that he needs to see more.

With slightly shaky hands, he grabs Jimmy’s shirt at his shoulders and gently tugs on it, begging silently to remove it, but he waits, patiently, for Jimmy to react.

Jimmy does not have the same patience apparently, quickly pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it into some corner of the room with little regard.

Tango’s eyes travel over his broad, slightly tanned shoulders, the definition of his muscles, and Tango can see them work as Jimmy’s hands trail over his lower body, slowly pulling his pants down till they pool at his ankles.

Despite Jimmy’s clear impatience, he looks up at Tango, while hooking his fingers under the waistband, slightly tugging it down, thumb brushing over the dark blond hairs that trail down below. 

Tango wants this, wants this more than anything, so he pushes his concerns away, his hand finding Jimmy’s hair, tugging on it just a little. The moan Jimmy lets out at this is making Tango throb, and he pulls just a little bit harder, pulls his face a little bit closer to his crotch, which only earns him more of those beautiful noises. It feels addicting, like he needs more, more of Jimmy.

“Please” Tango manages, his raspy voice cracking slightly as his breathing already grows heavier in anticipation. 

And Jimmy doesn’t need to hear that twice, quickly pulling down the boxers. He can see Jimmy eye him, his brown eyes large, lips parted just slightly as his face is so close to Tango’s member.

Tango is slightly nervous, having someone like Jimmy so close to himself. He knows he’s not anything impressive, that he isn’t Jimmy’s age anymore, and that it shows. Despite being fit, his body has gone soft. But with Jimmy looking up at him like that, he might almost feel as beautiful as Jim is.

Jimmy’s warm breath ghosts over him, causing Tango to shudder, knees buckling slightly. Immediately, Jimmy’s hands grab his waist just a little bit firmer. He lets the touch ground him, but it is only a momentary respite before he feels the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth on him. Tango feels like he might pass out from how warm and wet it is and the tightness of his lips wrapped around his tip.

Already Tango has to keep himself from bucking his hips forward, not wanting to overwhelm Jimmy, but the younger man takes notice and  greedily takes more of him, sinking down onto him until Tango can feel himself press against the back of Jimmy’s throat, while letting out a strangled gasp.

Jimmy stays still for a moment and looks up at Tango and he can’t help but throb in his mouth, precum leaking from his tip.

“Jimmy” Tango groans, his voice high pitched and raspy, pulling slightly tighter on the blonde hair, as if it were a lifeline.

The way Jimmy hums around him has Tango already on edge and he knows he won’t last long, not with how Jimmy looks up at him, moves his tongue around his member, and takes him just a little bit deeper, occasionally closing his eyes, as if Tango were the most delicious thing he ever tasted.

When Jimmy pulls back, not fully but just enough to sink himself down on Tango again, his lips still firmly wrapped around his member, Tango can’t hold his noises, panting back anymore.

Tango can’t help himself, as he feels his orgasm build and build, until he feels like he’s about to spill. “Jimmy, I’m gonna -” He tries to pull Jimmy off, not wanting to make him swallow like this, but Jimmy has other plans, his tongue licking along the underside of Tango's shaft as much as he can while trying to take him even deeper, nose brushing against Tango’s abdomen.

Tango didn’t plan on cumming down Jim’s throat. He didn’t plan on any of this in the first place.

It was an idea he entertained before, on some lonely nights, when he couldn’t stop thinking about Jimmy’s bright smile, his stupidly beautiful brown eyes, thinking about a sight much like the one right in front of him. But this was better than he could have imagined it.

Tango can’t help but let out a few indecent grunts, mixed with a sigh, as he feels his orgasm wash over him. He can’t handle the sight in front of him, the way Jimmy smiles with his eyes, still looking up at him. Tango wants to look away, he really does, but he can’t tear his gaze from him, not wanting to miss a single second of this. 

Tango is quite certain he hadn’t cum this hard in years, mostly just taking care of his needs as they arose, but this is something he didn’t even consider again, for the longest time.

He sinks against the wall, leans his head against the cool metal of the locker and shuts his eyes, his breath coming out heavy and his hand still buried in Jimmy’s hair, not holding him down. No, Jimmy is staying in place of his own volition as Tango softens in his mouth, still surrounded by the warmth.

Gently, he strokes Jimmy’s hair, still reeling from the intense pleasure, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face before daring to look at him again.

It takes everything in Tango to remain standing up, especially when Jimmy starts trailing one of his hands along his thigh, grabbing gently at it. Of course Tango is still fit, still muscular, just because he is retired from playing football professionally, doesn’t mean he isn’t still playing and especially his legs show that.

“Jim” Tango groans, his voice cracking again slightly and in other circumstances he might be embarrassed about it but right now he can’t find it in him to care.

Not when Jimmy’s hand travels lower, gently brushing up and down his calf as if he were admiring the muscle in it. That thought, mixed with the warmth of Jimmy’s mouth and his hand trailing up and down his leg, cause Tango to let out another high pitched noise.

Again, Tango repeats “Jim”, as it is getting too much for him. He needs to breathe, he needs to just… Sit down for a second.

With a gentle push he moves Jimmy's head back, guiding him off his cock, which is now glistening with Jimmy’s saliva and the bits of his release that Jimmy hadn’t managed to swallow down immediately and this time Tango needs to avert his gaze.

“This was…” Tango tries but starts again “Jimmy this is… You are…” His thoughts are still all over the place, unable to focus on anything coherent. Or better said, he can’t focus on anything but Jimmy and the way he is looking at him.

“I think I need to sit down” he eventually manages to get out alongside a desperate and shaky laugh.

Before Tango can even try to pull his pants back up, Jimmy is already at it, and their hands brush against each other as Tango grabs onto the fabric of the jeans to pull it up the rest of the way and fasten the belt again. It feels weirdly intimate, despite what they just did and Tango finds himself just wanting to hold onto Jimmy’s hands, to just not let go.

Instead though, he just extends his hand to Jimmy.

Tango can't help but think of the first time they met, the way Jimmy was still so awkward and new to the entire interview scene, the way he slumped onto the floor once they were finished.

Tango doesn’t remember much about that interview, how long ago that even was or why Jimmy even fell off the couch in the first place.

What he does remember though, is the way Jimmy had looked up at him with his large brown eyes as he pulled him to his feet again.

Tango is afraid he is in this position for far too long, so he helps Jimmy up with ease and proceeds to sit down on one of the benches right next to them, leaning back against the locker behind him.

“This was amazing, Jimmy. You are amazing” Tango rasps as he tries to calm his pounding heart, giving Jimmy an encouraging smile.

With his eyes closed once more, Tango doesn’t see Jimmy’s face flush as a bright, goofy smile finds its way onto his lips, or the way Jimmy stares at him absolutely starstruck.

When Tango opens his eyes again he sees Jimmy bend down to pick up his discarded shirt, and he can’t look away from the way his back looks as he moves.

Tango wants nothing more than to return the favor immediately.

“Jimmy” his voice still sounds breathless, “Come here”, he requests gently.

And of course Jimmy is right there, not even bothering to put the shirt on again. Instead he lets Tango pull him onto the bench so he straddles his lap. Tango has to crane his neck up to meet Jimmy’s gaze, his lips, as they meet his.

This time it is Tango’s hands that wander over Jimmy’s ribs, his abs, his arms, his back, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss until Jimmy lets a soft moan slip out and it only encourages Tango more, now needing to know what other noises Jim can make for him. 

As he plays with the waistband of Jimmy’s shorts, just about to pull them down when it is now Jimmy’s turn to stop him. “Tango, Tango, I haven’t showered yet. I don’t wanna do that to you” He laughs and Tango can only stare up at him and nod with a weak “Oh, yeah okay”, earning another laugh. Of course he heard Jimmy laugh before, a million times it feels, with how charismatic he gives himself in the interviews nowadays, but never like this. 

They both look at each other for a moment before Jimmy leans in with a smirk “Care to join me?” and Tango forgets how to breathe for a second before he manages to get out a quiet, barely there “yes” 

Tango knows he’s behaving like a lovestruck teenager right now but when Jimmy looks at him like this, he can’t help himself.

Now both of them move eagerly towards the shower, just out of view from the empty locker room, as neither of them can take their hands off each other.

Jimmy is immediately eager to help Tango out of his red polo shirt, tugging the red fabric over his head, as Tango kicks his shoes off. Quickly his pants follow suit, Jimmy fiddling with his belt again as their lips meet. Tango blindly tries to pull Jimmy’s pants down but brushes accidentally over his already very prominent length. This causes Jimmy to gasp right into Tango’s mouth, all while pressing further against his lips, clearly wanting more.

Tango tries, just for a moment, to tease him more, to get more of these delicious noises out of Jimmy, but both of them are getting too impatient as to draw this out any longer.

Soon enough, they’re both undressed and Jimmy turns around to turn the water on, only for Tango to immediately step up behind him, strong arms wrapping around his torso, as he hugs Jimmy from behind, pressing open mouthed kisses against his shoulder, causing Jimmy to freeze, before he even manages to turn the water on.

Tango smiles against his skin, trying to reach out and around Jimmy, hand placed on his, on the faucet and without much thinking, he turns the water on.

Immediately hot water splashes both of them, right onto Jimmy’s shoulder and square into Tango’s face, causing him to yelp in panic for a moment.

Jimmy quickly moves so the water isn’t pelting Tango right in the face, but Tango just wants to bury his head into Jimmy’s shoulder in embarrassment. Of course, for once he tried to be cool and collected around Jimmy, which was already hard enough considering everything about him, only for something to go wrong.

Tango lets out a laugh, the heat in his face rising but then he sees Jimmy turn towards him and his bright, slightly crooked grin turns into laughter too. But not at Tango, not making fun of him, but with him.

And when Jimmy tries to tilt his head upwards, of course Tango looks at him and gets lost in his eyes.

Jimmy wants to say something but Tango can only focus on his lips and how they were wrapped around him just a few minutes ago, so before any word can come out, Tango kisses Jimmy again, eager to repay the favor as the hot water runs over them.

While Jimmy’s hands roam Tango’s body with a vigorous hunger, Tango carefully brushes his over Jimmy’s body, calloused hands cleaning his skin, while slowly trailing lower and lower.

Their bodies are pressed against one another, and Tango can’t help but press kisses all over Jimmy’s skin. He can see him shiver when his beard scratches against Jimmy’s throat as he trails down from his jaw, causing Tango to smile into each kiss.

Jimmy bucks his hips against Tango, his member already hard and Tango cautiously reaches out, studying Jimmy’s every expression to make sure he doesn’t overstep. But Jimmy has his eyes pressed shut, head tilted backwards just the slightest bit as he bites down on his lips as he is struggling to keep quiet.

“I want to hear you, please” Tango whispers, some of the guilt still gnawing at him. What is he doing here? What is he doing here with Jimmy? 

But seeing his expressions it is clear that Jimmy enjoys this as much as Tango does, if not more. And who is Tango to leave Jimmy unsatisfied after he already got on his knees for him;

Tango is not planning on leaving Jimmy unsatisfied.

“It’s okay. We’re alone here.” He reassures, as if that’s what Jimmy would be worried about.

He picks up his pace and asks again, this time just with another raspy “Please” murmured into Jimmy’s built chest. Tango can’t look at him for too long like this, his mind and body still reeling from his own release just minutes ago.

Jimmy’s lips part and the moans flow freely now, drawing Tango's gaze up. He presses another kiss on the corner of Jimmy’s mouth as his hand keeps moving in a steady rhythm, making sure that he's wrapped around Jimmy just tight enough. 

He can feel Jimmy eagerly fuck forwards into his fist with desperation, the need for more apparent in his movements and the few moans that the sound of running water didn't fully drown out. 

Tango can’t take his eyes off Jimmy, studying his expression and with the tousled wet hair he looks even more beautiful, his cheeks flushed, panting out Tango's name. 

No one should have to be subjected to such a sight. Ever.

Tango can feel his own member slowly starting to harden again but he ignores it, wanting to focus solely on Jimmy now. 

He presses more kisses onto his jaw, and down his throat, burying his face in Jimmy's shoulder for a moment as he stops his hand from moving, just to feel Jimmy desperately bucking his hips to find more friction, his moans getting needier and needier. “Tango. Please. Tango, please I need-”he pants. 

Normal Tango might have tried to make him spell it out but the slight whine in Jimmy's voice has him give in instantly. He cannot say no to him, to the way that Jimmy's moans beg him to keep going, like a puppy asking for treats. 

But instead of moving his hand again, Tango holds the base of Jimmy's shaft in his fist while getting on his knees. 

Jimmy has half a mind to turn the water off, so Tango doesn't get hit in the face again when Jimmy leans back against the cool tiles of the communal showers, groaning at the cold sensation on his back.

Tango kneels before Jimmy who is towering over him entirely now. How can he be so ridiculously tall? How can he still look so ridiculously handsome from down here? Maybe even more handsome, with the slight flush spreading over his torso, his member now standing right in front of Tango's face. 

Almost immediately, a hand finds itself on the back of Tango's head, pushing him forward towards where Jimmy's tip is already eager, leaking slightly.

Trying not to get lost in the sight, Tango focuses on gently licking along its underside, all the way to the tip, pressing an open mouthed kiss on it, that practically invites Jimmy to buck his hips forwards, the younger one clearly not patient enough for this.

“Oh God - sorry, Tango, I'm sorry, I - “ Any apology is instantly getting swallowed by a moan, as Tango starts moving the hand on Jimmy's shaft, jerking him off into his mouth.

Tango knows that there is no way he can do what Jimmy did for him earlier, and he's still thinking about it, and he knows he won’t be able to ever stop thinking about it either for a long while. 

There is an eager stutter to Jimmy's hips and Tango can tell just how much he is trying to hold back, can feel it in the way Jimmy's hands keep wandering away from the back of his neck, to being on Tango's shoulder, to one hanging in tense fists next to Jimmy, the other splayed on the cool tiles behind him. 

Right as Jimmy was about to ask Tango to take him just the slightest bit deeper, hand on his neck again, the door to the locker room opened and both men froze up instantly. Jimmy had half a mind to turn the shower next to them on, hoping the sounds would muffle any other noises. 

“Jimmy, can you hurry up? How long are you still gonna take here? We've been waiting forever“, Joel's voice sounds through the locker room, clearly annoyed. 

Tango wants to pull himself off Jimmy's cock, but the hand at the back of his head applies gentle pressure, keeping him in place. When Tango looks up and their eyes meet he can see Jimmy whisper a silent “Please”, face still flushed and traces of pleasure apparent. 

“Ye-Yeah I'll be out in a bit. Just gotta finish showering. Why, why are you and Grian still waiting?” Jimmy asks, hoping he comes across normal enough. 

He can hear the frustration in Joel's voice “Jim, we've had plans to grab drinks tonight. Can you stop drooling over that guy for one second and actually pay attention.” A locker opens and ruffling noises sound. Tango remains unmoving but prays that Joel won’t come in here, won’t notice what is happening.

If Jimmy's face was flushed before, he was now closer in shade to a tomato. 

“Shit” Jimmy stammers as Tango shifts slightly, but Joel doesn't seem to notice the cause. “Oh gosh that was today? I'm sorry, I can't, something came up and-”

“I swear Jimmy, if you're ditching us again just to learn, what was it? Football stats,” Joel says in a high-pitched voice mocking Jimmy's, “just to get your dick wet, I'm gonna actually punch you.” Joel threatens, still audibly rummaging in his locker. 

It doesn't escape Tango how Jimmy's grasp has become just a little bit firmer on him and how he is twitching in Tango's mouth. 

Jimmy is actively avoiding Tango's gaze, looking anywhere but at the man on his knees for him and Tango isn't quite sure if it is out of embarrassment or something else but he gets his answer when precum coats his tongue, Jimmy's breath hitching as he tries to remain steady enough to reply. 

“No, no, Joel, I just… I just forgot about an appointment I had. Norman… I have to bring him to the vet, for a checkup.” Jimmy stammers his weak lie, the best he could come up with given his situation. It doesn't help that Tango slowly starts moving his hand again, a careful eye on Jimmy's expression, nervously trying not to misinterpret the situation but it seems like he was spot on. Jimmy's hips start moving again.

“A checkup at the vets? At 8pm on a Friday? Jim, you absolute idiot. But yeah, go home and jerk off to your Tango or something. But you're paying for the first round next week.” Joel gives him a dry laugh, locker door slamming shut and after a few moments his steps leave the room entirely, the heavy door falling shut.

Jimmy is now painfully hard and leaking, not able to hide from Tango, just how much this interaction had worked him up. Finally he lets Tango pull himself off his leaking tip, catching his breath, but his hand still keeps moving as he looks up at Jimmy.

“So… Football stats to get your dick wet, huh?” Tango asks with a smirk. 

Tango already had a hunch, that Jimmy didn’t actually know much about the statistical side of his job, despite being an excellent player, at least at the beginning of his career. It comes naturally to some and less to others and there's no shame in it. But there is shame in how endearing it had been to Tango, to see the effort Jimmy put into learning about these things.

And to know now, that he did it to impress Tango was a heady feeling he dared not to think about too much, at least not right now.

What had he done to have this puppy of a man be infatuated with him? It is both pure bliss and absolute torture simultaneously. 

Tango tries to just turn his head off for once and it comes easier when Jimmy whines out his name again in a desperate plea. 

Of course Tango's hand picks up speed and of course Tango's lips wrap around the leaking member again.

He wants nothing more than to make Jimmy the happiest he can be in this moment and it doesn't take long for Tango to succeed. 

In a frantic, desperate motion, Jimmy pulls Tango off of himself, not having even a second to warn him, before spurts of release get shot across Tango's face, some landing in his beard and a lot of it on his glasses.

Jimmy looks like he's about to apologize as he's but Tango just looks up at him and laughs “Hey, at least we're already in the shower” studying Jimmy from this view one last time before taking his glasses off and standing up, feeling Jimmy's gaze on him the entire time. 

This seems to ease Jimmy’s own worries slightly, his face more flushed than tomato colored now and his parted lips slowly turning into a goofy smile. And before Tango can wipe any of the cum off his face Jimmy energetically pulls him in for a kiss, even more enthusiastic than before.

Tango can’t help but be endeared by him, Jimmy’s energy being infectious enough to make him forget how his knees ache from being on the tiled floor for too long.

“Lets get cleaned up, alright?” Tango laughs as they both bask in each other's presence under the hot water.

——————————————————————————————————

Jimmy throws Tango one of his spare towels once they are done and asks, as casually as he can, “Can we go out? For drinks? Tonight?” It comes off as a little bit desperate so he adds, “If you don’t have anything planned.” That is not making it any better.

Tango finishes drying off, tossing the towel back to Jimmy who catches it with ease, shooting Jimmy a smile as he puts his pants back on. “Thought you had a vet appointment? Norman was your cat right?” And Jimmy wants to sink to his knees again almost instantly. He remembers the name of his cat? But before Jimmy can point that out or even just nervously laugh at Tango’s joke, the man continues. “Or are you just ditching your teammates to go spend time with some old guy, trying to impress him by talking about football stats, huh?”

Jimmy wants to sink into the floor and never emerge again. He might need to strangle Joel tomorrow, couldn’t his timing have been any worse?

No, what actually is worse is how much Jimmy enjoyed it. The mixture between the panic of getting caught, the embarrassment of getting called out like this right in front of Tango and just the feeling of Tango himself. 

Jimmy shakes his head, focusing on drying off again. He hasn’t even put his pants back on again, he can’t already beg Tango for more.

He realizes he hasn’t replied and has now just been staring at Tango in silence for a few moments, watching him fasten his belt again and reaching for his shirt. 

Jimmy only manages an awkward stammer in reply.

He is sure that he’s messed this up again, his one chance, when Tango chuckles, looking at Jimmy, walking closer to him, while only being shirtless.

“We can go out, sure.” Tango grins, placing a hand on Jimmy’s arm. “Come on then, get dressed” He teases at Jimmy’s state of undress, but Jimmy interrupts Tango before he can put his own shirt on, with another kiss. 

——————————————————————————————————

Grian and Joel are sitting around a table with a few other teammates they would consider friends, each slowly sipping at their drinks, eyes fixed on the bar nearby where they see Jimmy, who is clearly not taking his cat for a routine checkup on a Friday night, and Tango who has his back to them.

Both seem engrossed in their conversation but the two can only overhear occasional tidbits from Jimmy, his volume control even more questionable than usual when he is around Tango.

“I genuinely can’t believe this. How did Timmy manage that?” Grian asks, pinching the skin between his eyebrows as he sighs.

“No idea. Maybe he finally stopped bringing up -” Joel wants to reply but Jimmy’s laughter echoes way too loud through the bar, but neither of the men seem to be aware of it.

Joel groans instead of finishing his sentence, emptying his drink.

——————————————————————————————————

The next day before practice, Jimmy can’t stop thinking about what happened yesterday, right here where he is sitting in the locker room, the way he was on his knees in front of Tango, how he sat on his lap, how his lips felt on his. Oh, he would go on his knees again and again for Tango in a heartbeat.

Jimmy was so lost in his daydreams that he did not notice Joel entering, immediately kicking at Jimmy’s shin, ripping him out of his thoughts about the wonderful sounds Tango made for him yesterday.

“How was Norman?” Joel asks in a mocking tone.

“Norman?” Jimmy asks back, confused. His mind is filled with many things but none of them help him figure out why Joel is talking about his cat.

Grian joins the team in the locker room, immediately heading past Jimmy to his own locker, not sparing him a single glance. “Tim, next time you’re getting your dick wet, please just come up with a better excuse”

Jimmy stammers, right. “I didn’t mean to ditch you guys, sorry” Jimmy says and he means it. 

“Whatever, next one’s on you” Joel shrugs before sitting down in front of his own locker, kicking his shoes off.

“How do you guys even know about this?” Jimmy asks, fearing for the worst. They couldn’t have actually heard them in here yesterday, right? Joel would have said something right then and there and Jimmy would never live that down.

Grian has the most exasperated look on his face, tired of dealing with this “Jimmy. You guys quite literally went to the bar that we were supposed to go to yesterday, after ditching us.”

A weak ”Oh.” is all Jimmy can manage.

“Oh Tango, please tell me more. Oh Tango, can you tell me about the Olympics again” Joel mocks Jimmy in a high pitched voice, causing Grian to groan.

“Joel, please don’t encourage him. Seeing him drool like that yesterday was already bad enough” which is met with laughter. 

Jimmy leans his head back in embarrassment “You guys… saw all of that?”

“Jimmy, it was really hard to miss.” Grian sighs, unpacking his bag. “The whole place heard your conversation”

“It was actually quite disgusting to watch.”, Joel chimes in with another laugh.

“Guys please, I…” Jimmy can’t really defend himself there, his face heating in embarrassment but he can’t help but laugh. Because he must have looked absolutely ridiculous yesterday, but how could he not?

He checks his phone quickly before putting it into his locker, needing to escape his friends teasing. But he stops, seeing he’s got a message from Tango.

It is simple, it just says “alright. see you later then!”, but Jimmy must have the biggest grin on his face, judging by Grian groaning in exasperation.

[rosetyler42]

Ericka: Oh, HECK yes. Ericka is loyal to a fault and one of the most stubborn of the pack: She does not change her views or loyalties EASILY. Even after her Great-Grandfather tried to kill her, she clearly still cares for him. She may not seem like it, but she's the most dangerous member of the Drac Pack. Mess with her friends and family members, she will hunt you down to the ends of the EARTH unless someone talks her down. Drac might be the loudest and most obviously protective, but Drac is more likely to show mercy. Ericka will NOT.

Alice: Also yes! Like Drac, Bendy tends to be the most obviously protective one since he's the most powerful and damaged. However, Alice is far smarter, more sensible, more determined, and far more ruthless. Bendy you can outrun. Alice will NEVER give up chasing you down. And unlike Drac and Ericka? There's less chance of Bendy stopping her when this happens - He'll cheer her on.

Fiddleford: Mostly! He's a bit senile thanks to the memory gun, and always was a bit unhinged despite seeming like an unassuming southern nerd/ex-farm boy. But push comes to shove, he's a loyal guy who's love language includes building people death bots. He did move states for his college friend and stayed despite constant trauma until the portal incident.

Ford: Perhaps the most dangerous and loyal between him and Fidds. True, he can hold a grudge and has a hero complex, but he clearly missed his brother for decades and "I'm sorry Fiddleford" has been on loop in his head for 30 years. He's also kept up his oath to destroy Bill for 30 years too. He's one of the most dangerous Pines family members with an interdimensional criminal record, knowledge of gun use, willingness to use violence, mad science, etc.

Bill: No, definitely not.

Mabel: Sorta! Not quite as loyal as Dipper as she can kinda be self-focused sometimes, but push comes to shove she IS generally there for her brother

Shego: Less loyal dog and more an attack cat. She always comes back to Drakken and would do just about anything for him, but acts aloof and likes to tease him as a sign of affection.

Coraline: In a way she kinda becomes this over the course of the film. She's still snarky and a Lydia/Wednesday, but she will do just about anything for her family and friends, even if it risks herself.

Audrey: Being the youngest and most innocent of the ink fam, Audrey is normally the protected one. However, she is very cleve, kindhearted, and rather loyal to those who help her despite get willingness to hear the other side out. Even Joey's death upset her greatly and she clearly holds affection for him despite her saying she didn't believe he was her father. And Bendy, she was ultimatelt willing to accept and save despite finding out he was also the Ink Demon. While the keepers describe her as "Feisty" and "dangerous," Audrey prefers to hide or banish enemies rather than kill them out right. However, she WILL do so to protect those she sees as her friends. Tends to be calmer than Alice or Ericka, but still emotional with alot of personality. Kind of like Coraline in a way.

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[bonezone44]

✨Pedro Stories Secret Santa✨

'Educational Benefits' (18+)

Mr. Ben x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4250

Tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, oral (f receiving), protected p-in-v, sweet inexperienced!Ben, experienced Reader

for my PedroStories Secret Santa: @musings-of-a-rose 🙏 I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Within the first few months of teaching at St. Lawrence High School, you developed an arrangement with the Algebra teacher, Mr. Ben. And it was full of a lot more surprises than you had anticipated….

-----

It was Friday afternoon after a long, arduous semester at St. Lawrence High School. The students were always the most restless before winter break, anxious to be out enjoying the snow. You tried desperately to get some quiet time to grade their final exams by putting on a movie, but you spent most of your time shushing them. You had to use your free period to finish grading instead. When you really wanted to use that time to get organized for next semester. You sighed. ‘So much for that.’ 

By three o'clock, you had been staring at columns of numbers for so long, your brain started to twist in on itself. Your body ached, your stomach growled, the dim winter sun begged for you to wrap yourself in a soft, fluffy blanket. But much like the school children, you were too antsy for that. Too much time spent curled around your desk. Too much work-work-work. 

But unlike your students, you had no intention of spending your evening playing in the snow. You needed time away from the icy roads and flurried skies. You needed to stay warm. Quite warm. You needed to get laid.

You made your way down the main hall, the clack of your shoes echoing out. You passed your favorite coworker's classroom just as he was packing up. You had to grit your teeth at the sight of his broad shoulders moving beneath his black sweater as he loaded notebooks into his satchel. Your arms wanted to wrap around his middle and pull him close. Your hands wanted to slip beneath his waistband. Your tongue wanted to trace his scruffy jawline and your teeth wanted to playfully tug on his ear. 

It took a long deep breath to bring you out of your fantasy and into the present.

“Hey, Ben,” you called casually, as if you hadn't just fucked him three different ways in your mind.

He glanced over his shoulder with one questioning eyebrow raised. He brightened at the sight of you, a wide smile on his lips. “Hey! What's up?” He tossed another folder in his bag and zipped it closed. 

“Exhausted,” you groaned. “How are you?”

Ben laughed. “I'm about the same. I can't wait to get out of here.”

“Me, too.” You pressed your fingers to your eyelids. “My eyes are burning from submitting grades.”

“Oh yeah, I can't wait to get away from these screens.” He slipped the strap of his bag around his shoulder and headed in your direction.

You leaned back from the door to check the hallway–empty. You lowered your voice to be safe. “You going out to Tilly's tonight?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a smirk. Then with sudden concern, “Are you?”

“Of course!”

“Good.” He nodded, looking you up and down and biting his lip. “Good.” 

You giggled as he joined you at the door. “Also, I'm excited to see what Ms. Ladner's like with a few drinks in her.”

Ben stopped in his tracks, throwing his head back in laughter. “Oh, you're gonna love it. I promise you.” He turned off the light and closed the door to his classroom, still snickering to himself. 

“I'll see you there around seven?” You grinned.

“Don't worry,” he nodded. “I'll be there.”

—-

Three drinks in and Ms. Ladner, the school's biology teacher of thirty years, was on stage singing karaoke at the top of her lungs: an operatic version of “I'm Every Woman” by Chaka Khan. Her cheeks were bright pink. Gray curls stuck to the edges of her forehead with sweat. Her usual red lipstick was long gone and her dark blue eyeliner had started to smudge. 

You and Ben clapped and cheered from the crowd with the rest of the teachers and staff who chose to attend the celebration that evening. Two weeks. No school. No students. The bar, Tilly's, was the gang's regular choice. 

Back at the table, Jeff, the P.E. teacher, and Mr. Menendez, who taught history, began arguing over which fuel in their grills made for better steak. 

“The heat distribution is just as even with coal,” argued Jeff.

“Nononono,” Mr. Menendez shook his head fervently. “No it is not. You are a caveman!” He yelled down at the table, rocking back and forth in his chair.

Jeff turned to him in bright offense. “I'm not a caveman–”

“You are! You are a Neolithic peasant!” he spat. “You burn dirty rocks to char your sad little flanks of animal flesh you purchase for yourself at the Wal-Mart!” He scoffed, crossing his arms over his thick beige sweater vest. “Be a man of the future, you coward!” He slammed his fist down on the table. “Propane burns clean and pure!” 

Jeff pinched his fingers together. “What is more pure than tradition, Miguel? What is more pure than-than-than digging with my bare hands from the earth–”

Mr. Menendez burped and continued to shake his head.

Jeff's eyes grew wide. “--and discovering a-a-a rock that can hold fire, huh? What's more pure than that?”

“It is filthy! It is filth to cook with coal! God gave us propane to save us from the muck! To render us free from the dirty, dirty ground! Peasant!” He shouted, his gaze fixed on the sticky table. “You are a peasant!”

“This is getting weird,” Ben spoke to you out of the side of his mouth. 

“Oh, Ben? And what say you? Hmm?” Asked Mr. Menendez, his eyes suddenly pierced and focused at the man across the table. “How do you fuel the fire within?”

You covered your mouth as you laughed at Ben suddenly squirming in his seat next to you, fidgeting with the collar of his bright blue button-up. “Uhh… well, if we're still talking about grills, I don't –I don't have one.”

“What?!” Jeff jumped from his seat.

“How do you call yourself a man?!” Mr. Menendez cried with disdain.

Ben furrowed his brow. “Well, I live in an apartment aaand I don't have a balcony or anything.”

“Oh.” Jeff retreated. He adjusted the waistband of his track pants and sat back down.

Mr. Menendez was less assured. “A real man would find a way.” He raised his finger in the air. “A real man would use propane to find a way.”

Jeff scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes,  turning to the aging man at his side. “How is propane more manly than coal?!” 

You leaned over Ben's shoulder. “I don't know how much more I can take of this–” 

“Yeah, me, either,” he murmured, one of his fingers nudging your knee beneath the table.

Ms. Ladner joined the group, shoving herself into the booth seat next to you and in turn, shoving you into Ben. Fire burst through you to be so close to him in front of your co-workers. You had both been doing your best to keep a polite distance before scurrying away to his place at the end of the evening. 

“I'm so glad you came!” Ms. Ladner cheered, alcohol strong on her breath. “I love it when young new teachers join the good fight!” 

You laughed, feeling trapped. Should you move closer to Ben or closer to Ms. Ladner, who was yelling in your ear? “Well, I'm not that young–” you began. 

“Oh, you're all young to me!” Ms. Ladner giggled. “Young and fresh! Right, Menendez?” She turned to face him.

“Infants!” He threw his finger up. “All of you!”

Ms. Ladner cackled and kicked her feet. “Jeffrey!” She shouted and reached across the table with desperate fingers. “What do you think of her?”

Your stomach dropped. You barely knew Jeff at all. This was your first time socializing with him outside of school.

Jeff's eyes bugged and his mouth dropped. “I uhh… ummm….”

“It's–It's fine!” You offered a polite smile and waved your hand. “You don't have to answer!” 

“Oh come on!” Ms. Ladner pressed. “Feedback is important to the development of our new teachers!” 

You attempted to correct her. “Well, I'm not new to teaching–” 

Ben piped up. “I've been hearing good things from her students.”

“Really?” Ms. Ladner brought her hands to her chest with delight. “Oh that is so good to hear!” She rested her head on your shoulder. Her curls smelled like coconuts.

You laughed uncomfortably. “Uh… who is driving you home, Ms. Ladner?” 

“Mr. Johnson!” She popped up with cheer. 

“Yeah! Mr. Johnson!” Jeff raised his empty beer glass. 

“Mr. Johnson!” raved Mr. Menendez. 

“The… the principal?” You asked.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “Mr. Johnson comes by every year at eleven o'clock and takes all us saps home,” she grinned and sighed wistfully. “And then he uses it as blackmail for the rest of the year to get us to do his bidding.” She giggled with evil glee. She grabbed your drink and raised it in the air. “To Mr. Johnson!”

Jeff, Mr. Menendez and Ben raised their glasses as well, cheering together. “To Mr. Johnson!”

Jeff drank from his empty glass. Mr. Menendez chewed on the remaining melting ice cubes in his drink. Ben sipped his soda. And Ms. Ladner finished the rest of your cocktail–which was mostly water at that point.

You rolled your eyes and dropped your face in your hands–more than done with the festivities and liquored-up bonding rituals. You wanted to spend time with Ben before you really got tired. “You know, it's getting kind of late–”

“No, don't go, yet!” Ms. Ladner pouted, her face contorting into that of a sad child. “Stay!” She cried out and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, the weight of her slamming you further into Ben. You grabbed his thigh to keep yourself upright.

Ben's warm fingers found your own. “Yeah, I think I might head out, too.” He said with his eyes on everyone but you. You felt fire burning through you all over again.

“Oh, but I'll miss you!” Said Ms. Ladner. “I'll miss you both so much!” She squeezed you tighter.

You were close enough to Ben that his laughter vibrated through you–sending sparks of excitement along your skin. But being constricted by Ms. Ladner nearly dulled the experience. And while you enjoyed her drunken fondness for you, you would much rather spend time with Ben. It had become more than necessary over the course of the evening–feeling overwhelmed by experiencing the somewhat unappealing side of your new work family. 

“I'll miss you, too, Ms. Ladner,” you pried her arms from around you. 

It took about twenty minutes for you and Ben to say your goodbyes to the crowded bar, declining offers for more drinks. One more teacher decided to leave, as well, which you were quietly grateful for. 

“Have a good night, Lisa!” You called out as you walked to your car.

“You, too!” She sang back. “See you next year!” 

“Night, Ben!” You waved across the parking lot.

“Good night!” He waved back just as casually.

—--

Your lips were on Ben's as soon as he opened his apartment door, only stopping to prevent yourself from stumbling.

“I have been waiting for this all day,” you murmured into his mouth. You stepped back with wide eyes. “I-I mean, it's just… been a while and stuff,” you let out a breathy laugh.

Ben grinned with sparkling eyes. “Yeah, I'm excited, too.” He circled his arm behind your waist and guided you in. 

His touch was more than welcome, but not enough. You shucked off your layers, tossing your coat, scarf, and hat on his kitchen counter. “I'm gonna freshen up real quick and try to get some of Ms. Ladner's sweat off of me,” you clapped your hands with a smile. “If you wanna meet me in the bedroom.” You walked backwards further into his home. “I have a surprise for you.”

He scratched the back of his neck, his lips curling up around the edges. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” 

You scurried to the bathroom with your handbag in giddy excitement. You undressed and pulled out your feminine wipes to do a quick cleaning of the important areas. You rolled your favorite perfume on the back of your neck. You changed into the lingerie you packed and slipped on a silky black miniskirt. You felt sexy and confident when you looked in the mirror. You couldn't wait to show Ben.

When you peeked into his room, Ben was sitting at the end of his bed still fully clothed, bobbing his head to the music coming out of his stereo. He smiled brightly at the sight of you.

“What do you think?” You asked, fingertips moving along the strap of your blue mesh bra. “You like the surprise?”

“Yeah!” He nodded. “It's freaky! I'm into it!”

A laugh burst out of you before you could stop it. “Ben!” All the heat in the room escaping. “Oh my god!” You huffed.

“What?” He whined, his excited gaze never leaving your chest.

You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head with a warm smile. “If you think this bra is freaky, I don't know what you're gonna say about my crotchless underwear.”

“...what?” he asked again, only this time with doe eyes and a gaping mouth.

You covered your mouth and laughed. “You are so pure!” You stomped forward and wrapped your arms around his head, bringing his face to your bosom. His curls smelled like cologne and his thin beard scratched your exposed skin. “What kind if porn do you even watch?” God, he was so adorable.

“I… I don't watch porn.”

“Wait... what?” You pull away from him and grab his face in your hands–staring into his big brown eyes for clarity. 

“I don't watch porn,” he repeated.

“Why not?”

“W-Well…” He stuttered a moment trying to find the right words. “I-isnt that a good thing? Porn is like… degrading to women and wrong and stuff.”

You squeezed his cheeks together in the palms of your hands and pouted. “You are so freaking cute, Ben.”

“What?” He slurred through his bulging cheeks. He truly seemed lost. 

“Ben!” You dropped his face and put your hands on your hips again. “I know you were not a virgin when I met you.”

“Of course not, but–”

“So what did you do with your ex-girlfriends?”

“Well…” He straightened his posture. “That's private.”

You giggled. “I'm not asking for the juicy details. But like… what? Did you guys just do missionary the whole time? Have you even done it doggy-style?”

He pouted and shrugged. “I wanted to see their face.”

“Ben!” You were tickled to pieces. “You are so precious! Oh my god!” 

“I-I don't understand what's happening…”

You blinked and rubbed your hands together. “Oh my god, we have so much to cover.” 

“Cover?”

“I have so much I wanna show you!” You stared into his big eyes with devilish enthusiasm. “I mean, do you even know why the students call you Daddy?”

“I figured it's because I'm old,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Wait!” He looked at you in horror. “It's the sex thing?!”

“Noo!! Nonono!!” You braced his shoulders.

He dropped his head in his hands. “I don't know if I can have this conversation. I don't know if I can have sex anymore.”

“No! Listen listen listen.” You whined and tried to save yourself. You needed this. You really needed this. “Ben, you know, kids are kids and the students don't really understand what they're saying half the time and they just kinda repeat whatever they hear from adults and it's not really a sex thing to them.” You stared off. “Maybe it's more of a kink thing kind of–”

“What's the difference?!” He stared at you bewildered.

“Shit! No! It's not–it's not like that, okay? Kink isn't necessarily sexual!” You waved your palms at him as you kept digging yourself into a hole. “Let’s just–let’s start over, okay? We made this whole arrangement so we didn’t have to think about work and we could just be adults and have a-a-a good time.” You forced a smile, wringing your hands together. “We’re just two adults alone in your apartment and-and-and we’re gonna enjoy some time together, okay?”

He closed his eyes and released a heavy breath. He seemed stable when he opened them again. “Okay. Yes. You’re right. We can do this.”

“Yes!” You clapped your hands together. “We can do this.”

He reached forward, slowly, and patted your bare stomach with his palms.

“...what are you doing?” You looked down at him confused.

“I-I have no idea.” He shook his head dumbly. “I don’t know what to do now.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. The students may call him ‘Daddy’, but he was not one for taking control. Something you should have picked up on from the beginning. You placed your hands on top of his. “How’s this?” you asked and guided his hands down your skirt and around to the back of your thighs. You stepped between his legs, nudging his knees further apart. He took the cue and began moving his big hands up and down your thighs. You ran your fingers across his scalp, through the light gel in his curls. “Is that better?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss near your belly button. His lips trailed down and he kissed your mound through your skirt. “Can I–” he coughed and cleared his throat. “Can I see what’s underneath?” 

You smirked and wrapped your fingers around the bottom of your skirt, slowly rolling it up to expose yourself. He looked up at you in shock, ears turning pink in the dim light of his room. The blue underwear was mesh like your bra with a satin ribbon edge. It covered your mound and split at the bottom exposing your labia. You lifted your leg and rested your foot next to his thigh on the bed. You nudged him with your toes. “Do you like it?”

He nodded speechless.

“Do you wanna taste it?” you asked. 

His eyes were locked to yours as he moved forward. The tip of his tongue leaving his mouth, probing into your folds. His hands moved up your thighs to your ass, fingers digging through the fabric of your panties and squeezing you closer. 

“Oh wow,” you breathed out. You’re not sure if it was his skill or your touch-starved pussy, but his mouth felt like wet heaven.

He closed his eyes, dug his tongue deeper into your folds, rolling it against your clit in steady passes. You ran your fingers across the back of his head and pet him with tender wonder. You had been the one to ask him out for coffee. You had been the one to start talking about old relationships. And after hearing his series of heartbreaks, you had been the one to propose the idea of a strictly physical relationship. You had a long line of heartbreaks, too. You knew you shouldn’t fool around with a co-worker, but he was too delicious and too open for you to say ‘no’ to.

A finger sliding against your entrance shook you from your thoughts. “Wait,” you gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Ben stopped touching you immediately, worry evident on his brow. “Are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay.” You leaned down and kissed his wet lips, licking into his mouth and tasting your own slick. “I need to lie down so I don’t fall over.”

“Yeah?” Ben’s face showed a boyish excitement.

You giggled. He was too sweet. You crawled into the bed and spread your legs and Ben crawled between them. He sucked two of his thick fingers into his mouth and pulled them back out glistening. He started with one finger, slowly pressing it into your entrance and twisting his hand around. 

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, biting his lip. He leaned back down, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue as his finger prodded you. 

You rolled your hips into his mouth. His other hand pressed you into the mattress, pinning you in place. A second finger joined his first and you breathed through the stretch. He sucked and laved at your clit, his fingers moving in and out of you slowly. You had been prepared to guide him through it, having some questions about his level of experience. But he worked his mouth on you like an expert. Tonguing and slurping all your nerve endings, sending your toes curling. Holding you in place like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. And you were more than willing to listen.

“Want me to grab a condom?” he asked, your slick covering the lower half of his face.

“Yes, please!” You grinned. “And if you’re willing…” You sat up and got on all fours.

Ben’s face turned red as he stood at his nightstand. He covered his face with his hand and sighed. “Okay, okay,” he laughed. He shucked off his clothes, nearly falling over as he tugged on the boxer briefs that caught on his foot. He kneeled behind you on the bed, rolling on the condom. “For the record, I’m only doing this because you asked,” he said. “I would rather be looking at your face.”

You laughed, looking at him over your shoulder. “I think you’ll enjoy this, Ben.” You smirked. “Maybe you’ll learn something new about yourself.”

“I–” he stopped and sighed. His skin was warm against your back as he propped himself up above you. “Maybe you’re right, actually,” he murmured and kissed your shoulder. He pressed his cock against your entrance, slowly thrusting in.

“Holy shit,” you sighed, his girth pressing against all your inner points of pleasure. The stretch of him was a release–weeks of tension throughout your body unfurling and sprawling outward. You had forgotten how it felt to be penetrated by him. The reminder was delectable.

“How’s that? Is that good?”

“Oh my god, yes.” You began pushing your hips back into his, wanting him deeper.

“Yeah? You like that?” He whispered.

You fell forward, hiding your smirk in his sheets. “More, please, Ben,” you said after turning your face to the side.

His hips rolled and flicked into you. “Shit,” he gasped, his hands gripping your hips. 

This really was new for him, you could feel the hesitancy in his thrusts and you moaned in encouragement–and also because it felt so so good. You reached back, squeezing his hand in yours and his thrusts grew stronger, harsher, shoving you downward just the way you liked. It was very different than the other two times you had sex. “Oh my god. Ben!” you cried, his hips loudly slapping against your ass. You groaned. “Please don't stop!”

“Yeah? You like that?” His voice still at half volume.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, toes curling all over again. You can’t imagine how this must be for him. Someone so new, so adventurous. Fucking them through their panties. Maybe this was what you needed, too. Someone to guide and explore with instead of constantly performing for. Shit, you were thinking too much. You–

Ben’s hands groped harshly at your breasts. His sweaty chest heavy on your back. His breath in your ear. “Is this what you wanted, baby?”

You whimpered, one hand holding you up and one hand on his. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned in your ear. “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Pleasepleaseplease” You didn’t care that you hadn’t come, yet. The night wasn’t over. You felt it as he gasped, his cock pumping and throbbing into you–into the condom, really. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he said. 

You turned around after he pulled out. The tip of the condom was full of his white load. 

“I’m so sorry. That wasn’t like me,” he said with his head in his hands.

“Ben! No!” Your heart collapsed. He looked so remorseful. You wrapped your arms around him. “That was wonderful! That was fantastic!”

“But I finished before you–”

“So what? That felt amazing!”

“I don’t know.” He squirmed.

“Look at me, Ben.”

He complied. His eyes were blurry and his brows were twisted.

“What are you worried about?” You softly pet his broad shoulders.

“I-I feel like I used you or something–”

“Well, that’s what sex is sometimes.”

“I don’t know.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Look, Ben. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing, but you didn’t do anything wrong. We made this arrangement to have sex without all the emotional attachments.” Even as you said it, you could feel yourself anchoring your heart to his. “I encouraged you. You didn’t cross any of my boundaries. I want you to feel safe exploring a different way of having sex.”

“Okay, okay.” He took a deep breath, nodding. “I just don’t wanna disrespect you.” He grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Ben…”  You melted. “Even if you do disrespect me, we’ll talk about it.”

His big brown eyes looked hopeful.

“We’ll do some conflict resolution and figure it out.” You shrugged. “The problem is if you keep disrespecting me again and again. Then, yeah.” You nodded. “That’s something to be upset about.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, seemingly appeased. “Okay.”

“Now… You do have to get your mouth back down there–” you pointed between your legs. “And make me come at least twice before I leave.”

Ben let go of your hand, laughing. “I can do that.”

“Good.” You grinned. “Now get to it, bucko!”

He spread your legs with the palms of his hands, kissing between your legs as if he was kissing you on the mouth. Deep, hungry, fervent.

—----------------------