#which is the version that they fantasise about and write for

[lee-sanghyeok]

.

[parfaitblogs]

never grow up ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you are at the age you never thought you'd live to. 

genre: hurt/comfort + fluff! tags: established relationship. (very brief) mentions of r not eating. depression. non sexual nudity. mention of a past suicide attempt. reader is codependent on spencer #anxiousattachment!! mini argument not really because he loves you a lot!!! please know your triggers ♡  word count: 2.2k a/n: this was a vent write. LOL! i think i switch tenses a lot in this? i tried to fix it. this is why we don't write fanfiction while we're crying!!! i love u i love u i love u and i am so so glad you are the age that you are!! continue to grow please!! life will become beautiful!!!

Depression is a funny thing.

Sometimes you are forgetting there has ever been a version of you out there that fantasised about death and longed for an escape from this world you deemed so cruel, so invasive. Other times, you are sat naked on the cold floor of your bathroom rocking back and forth, clawing at your skin and ripping hair out of your scalp because you are sobbing so ferociously. The world spinning around you and your cries, so violent, are making you lightheaded and you wonder if you pass out here if anyone will ever find you. 

Clearly, tonight, you are the latter.

It started as a small pit in your stomach that morning, that you braved through and ignored to the best of your ability, even as you said gentle 'no thank you's' to food offered by your co-workers and forced your brain to focus on work and not the never-ending abyss of dread in your abdomen. Then, it became a tear or two on your way home, that you vehemently wiped away and pretended was never there because it couldn't be. 

Then you were showering to get your mind off things — a stupid decision, really. For your brain was latching on to every awful emotion it had felt thus far today, and you were stepping out of the shower with an even heavier heart, and your hands were wrapping around your now goosebump riddled body, as you were sinking to the floor in a ball.

And maybe hours passed by you. Maybe days — it certainly felt that way. Maybe it was only a mere five minutes. But your loud sobs felt like they took an achingly long time to slow and quiet down, until they were falling into ugly sniffles of the snot on your face, and a raging headache behind your eyes. 

Loud sobs — scream sobs, really — had a lot of disadvantages. The aftermath feeling of embarrassment of screaming at your brain that refused to simply shut up, the scratch at your throat from every sound you ripped from it. The audio block it gave you from the rest of the world. For you truly were in your own universe when you were howling alone in the comfort of your bathroom walls.

So much so, that the familiar sound of a door opening and closing, and a bag being placed down by the side of it, went entirely unnoticed to you. Footsteps against your apartment's wooden flooring weren't picked up, nor were the first two knocks on your bathroom door. By the third, you were blubbering through saliva and snot, and you had heard it. Followed by a very gentle calling of your name, that had your heart clenching within your chest for a new reason. 

He had said he was coming home tomorrow. Which almost always meant he wouldn't be home for another three days, and so, in your mind, you thought bawling that night could be a secret kept between you and your tiles. 

Apparently not. 

He called your name again when you didn't reply, an added hint of desperation in his voice. Trembling, you stood, your limbs feeling as though they were creaking while you straightened them out. And you didn't bother about the towel sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor, nor the pile of your clean clothes sitting on the countertop. In fact, you didn't bother about anything as a shaking hand twisted the doorknob and pulled it open.

In an instant, his worried frown deepened, and eyes that might usually drink in the sight of your naked body beautifully, now didn't wander further than the scarlet scratch marks along your neck — blood vessels risen to the surface from how fragile that part of you was. He exhaled, and took a hesitating step towards you. One you welcomed by remaining planted in your spot — you didn't know if you could move, though. 

"Can I ask what's wrong, or do you simply want a hug?" 

Both, you wanted to say. Both, but also neither. 

You didn’t say that. Instead, you said, "Hug."

He hardly took a second to register what you'd said before his arms were wrapping around you. If he found the slightly damp state of your skin annoying, he didn't comment on it. He didn't say much at all, as he enveloped you into his body, a hand securing itself on the back of your head, and his chin resting atop your head. 

Water dripped uncomfortably to the floor, splattering on the tiles and his shoes, being the only sound aside from your irregular hiccups and sniffles. His button-up was wet from your tears and your body, and you could almost hear his complaints about it, if this were any other day. 

Minutes passed, and even though you didn't want to, you pulled back, feeling his hands slip around to your waist and hold you benevolently. Your own hands reached up to your face to wipe away tears, an embarrassed laugh escaping your lips. 

"This is pathetic," you said, fingers digging into the corners of your stinging eyes. 

"How?" he asked you.

"I didn't think you'd be home to see me having a mental breakdown."

A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes appeared on his lips. "Well, I am." Fingers squeezed your waist reassuringly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You shrugged, wordlessly, your eyes dropping from his face to the damp spot on his chest from where your face had once been, heart stuttering. 

"We don't have to, honey," he said. "But it might help."

"I know it might," you muttered. 

He was silent, as were you. A few more beats passed between you two, before you were turning around to pick up clothes you had left for yourself on the counter. You didn't really feel any different under his watchful gaze as you dressed yourself. Accustomed to the act, or simply too overwhelmed with another emotion, you didn't know. 

He followed you into the living room when you walked out there, and he sat down next to you on the couch you curled up on. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and he lifted his head on each intake of breath you had, as if about to say something. But you never did. 

So, he took over.

"Did something happen today?" You shook your head, and he nodded his own. "Okay. This past week?" You shook your head again, because other than missing him while he had been stuck in Texas for a case, nothing had actually happened. 

You wished it had. Truly, you wished you had experienced a murder on your way to work, or a distant family member had passed away so you could blame this feeling on something other than memories simply resurfacing. 

You sniffled again. "You know," you began, voice thick and wobbly from the lump lodged in your throat. "When I was fourteen, I didn't think I'd ever be this old."

Your gaze lifted from your lap to look at him, and you let a helpless tear fall from one of your eyes when you locked eyes with him. He was confused, unsurprisingly so.

So, you continued. "I tried to kill myself. When I was fourteen."

He readjusted his posture, eyebrows falling into a more concerned state, and he was silent for so long you wondered if this was when he decided you were too much and too complicated for him to deal with. 

He didn't. "I didn't know," he said, instead. 

"I don't exactly advertise it," you replied, and even if it was an attempt at being light hearted, it fell flat. "I just realised I never thought I'd be this age," you continued when he hardly reacted, "and I've been really anxious and down all week, so I think that realisation kind of sent me over the edge."

"Are you happy you're at this age?" 

Hesitantly, but surely, you nodded your head. "I got to meet you."

His lips twitched, but a smile never crossed his face. "You should be happy for reasons more than just me."

"You are my reason for being happy," you argued. 

"And I'm glad to hear I make you happy, but I cannot be your only reason."

"Why not?"

"Because that's dependency." 

You short-circuited, and he sighed upon realising the way you were taking his words — maybe not the smartest thing he could've said to his still tear-stricken-faced girlfriend. 

"What I mean is you should have other areas in your life that make you happy. Not just me."

"I like my job," you mumbled, gaze relocating to your lap. "And my friends."

"Great," he said, and you could feel his weight shifting on the couch as he nudged closer to you. "As long as I'm not your reason for living."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You've been my reason for living since we started dating. Why is it different now?"

"I didn't know I was your reason for living until now."

"So if you are, then what? You leave me?" 

"No," his response was so immediate you were sure you could feel the whiplash, and he ran a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh. "I don't want to fight with you when you're like this."

"I don't want to fight with you either," you agreed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. "I'm sorry I'm co-dependent."

He didn't respond for a while, mulling everything you two had shared and now, your apology, over in his head. You sat, anxiously, as minutes ticked by until he was puffing his cheeks to let out air, and standing up from the couch. 

He turned to you. "I love you, you know that," he began, and even before he had a chance to finish, you were already drowning him out, world crumbling around you as tears welled back up in your eyes. Maybe if you weren't as emotional as you were that night, your vision wouldn't have already gone blurry, and your heart wouldn't be shattering in your chest already. 

"But?" you countered, a sob escaping you at the end of the word.

He froze at the sound of it, his eyebrows turning in to each other, "Sorry?"

"You love me, but?"

"I don't understand."

"I'm sitting here, sobbing really violently and I look hideous, and you've just discovered I'm co-dependent, and you don't like that about me, so now you're telling me that you love me, but this isn't going to work out, and I need to work on myself before I get into another relationship, and you hope I can find happiness, and—"

"—What are you talking about?" he cut your ranting off, blinking a few times, confused. 

"Is that not what's happening?" 

"No?"

"Oh."

You stared at him, and he stared at you, and you felt your heart slowly pick itself back up from the pits of your stomach, each piece mending itself back together. He wasn't breaking up with you.

"I wasn't going to say that at all. Please don't put words in my mouth."

"Sorry," you said, though it wasn't very sincere. He crouched down in front of you, hands finding your fidgeting ones to hold them.

"Can I finish what I'm going to say before you cut me off this time?" Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and so he continued. "I love you, and you know that, and I don't want you to think I'm upset or mad at you for being codependent. You're allowed to not know how to navigate a relationship. But—"

"—There it is—" he glared with no real heat at you, and your lips twitched "—Sorry."

"But I need you to communicate with me. I'm going to inevitably do things that upset you, because you're co-dependent. We need to figure those things out, because a lot of the time you will respond unhealthily, and knowing what I know now, I don't want to be a trigger in any way."

"You won't be a trigger," you mumbled, and he shot you a pointed look, and your shoulders deflated. "I just feel stupid communicating things like that. Like, oh, I'm sad because my boyfriend is out of state for work and he's super busy and not responding to my messages so I think he might hate me."

"That isn't stupid."

"Yes it is!"

He said your name, eyebrows risen, and he shook his head. "You're upset about something. That isn't a stupid thing at all."

"It feels stupid."

"Okay, well, how about the next time I'm away on a case and not replying and you miss me, which is what that crazy, sad, completely reasonable phenomenon is called, by the way, you communicate that with me, and you see how I respond?"

"What if you tell me to go fuck myself?" 

He didn't even need to verbally deny your words for you to know that that response was completely out of character for him. All it took was one simple look, and you were diffidently smiling and averting your gaze, mumbling a quiet, "Okay."

And yes, the next time he was out of the state and you missed him, as he so kindly put it, you told him. And he spent three hours on the phone that night with you, reassuringly expressing how much he loved you, and how little he hated you.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[joostsblog]

joost klein x fem!reader who has a thing for his hands? loving when his hands wander all around her body.. fingering her during a pre-party then dragging her to hus room to finish the poor girl off both of them competing in eurovision

maybe joost even whispering things in her ear.. lots of neck kisses and reader wakes up in the morning neck, thighs, collarbones basically her whole body having hickeys ☺️

tysm if u do this

here you go :)

the one about his hands and also waking up covered in hickeys ~ joost klein smut

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x fem!eurovision contestant!reader

Description: Only fantasising about Joost's hands just isn't enough. You need to get the fellow eurovision contestant to actually touch you where you need to be touched.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: in this version of eurovision no drama is happening, no dq etc, everything is just nice ❣️ i'm leaving for vacation tomorrow (to the netherlands actually lmao) so i probably won't be able to write anything for two week, i'm sorry babes :( filling up my inbox with requests, thoughts, feedback etc is still encouraged tho 💌

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, nsfw, fingering (f receiving), protected sex, piv, swearing, consumption of cigarettes, not proofread

His hands were the first thing you noticed about the man. The way he held out his hand in front of you, greeting you with a handshake (which you thought was a bit odd). His hand felt firm yet gentle in yours and you couldn't help but admire the digits tattooed on his fingers.

"Nice to meet you," he had smiled at you and your heart had fluttered just a bit.

Your quick infatuation with Joost and his hands really was poorly timed. You were at eurovision to represent your country and you were supposed to be on your best behaviour. Absolutely no distractions allowed. Too bad thoughts of the blonde dutch man doing ungodly things to you kept intruding into your mind.

So you really shouldn't be spending as much time with him as you did. Always finding an excuse to talk to him in between rehearsals or at breakfast (your favourite because it meant you saw Joost's messy hair in the morning and maybe sometimes you imagined your hands were the ones responsible for that). Your vocal coach would be furious with you if she found out that you had been starting to sneak off with Joost whenever he went for a smoke. Just talking and laughing with him as you watched him smoke. Always paying close attention to those hands when he lifted one of them to his mouth to take a drag in between sentences.

"I think I might be a bad influence on you," he said. "You need to take care of your pretty voice," he mused with a smirk and you swear you caught him eyeing you up and down.

"Don't worry about me, I'm already corrupted," you joked.

"Really, how so?" Joost asked with a grin.

You watched as Joost took another drag, his cigarette delicately placed between his fingers. Oh, what those hands could be capable of doing to you. You couldn't help but let your thoughts wander off again. You wondered how his hands would feel on your hips if you were sat on his lap, his hands guiding you to grind against him. How his hands would feel in your hair, pulling on it while his mouth would kiss along your neck. How his hands would on your throat while he would thrust into you. How his fingers would feel slowly pumping inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

Joost raised an eyebrow when he noticed your absent state.

"You will have to find out," you said smirking.

"Mysterious, I like it," Joost said and finished off his cigarette. "After you," he said after he opened the door. You walked past Joost and your hands lightly brushed against Joost's. Shivers on down your spine.

You decided that maybe the only solution to your problem was to actually get into Joost's pants. Because then all your thoughts and fantasies about the man wouldn't have to plague your mind anymore when they would become reality. So you decided you would do anything in your power to achieve your goal.

~

You were sitting across Joost in a waiting area. He was handsomely dressed in that black jacket with the dark europe tie and his glasses with the thick brims. His fingers were nervously playing with the cord of his headphones. He looked ravishing. You crossed your legs which caused your thighs to be on full display with the short skirt you were wearing. You hoped Joost would notice and maybe also think about how his hands would feel so good on your thighs (and other places also).

"Excited for tonight?" you asked Joost.

"Huh?" he asked confused.

"The semifinals preparty," you reminded him.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded as he remembered. "Are you gonna be there?" he asked.

"Only if you're there," you said and Joost smiled.

"Then I'll be there, anything for you," he said.

"Anything?" you asked cheekily. Joost narrowed his eyes at you and gave you a grin.

"You will have to find out."

~

Joost's eyes immediately landed on you as you saw him enter the party. You were swaying your hips to the beat, hands up in the air as you enjoyed yourself on the dancefloor. You grinned at Joost and he didn't need to be told twice as he made his way over to you. You wrapped your arms around Joost's neck to hug him hello, still swaying to the music. Instead of hugging you, Joost put his hands on your hips and smiled at you as he probably assumed you wanted to dance with him. You didn't complain. The thin fabric of your skirt didn't serve much as a barrier between your skin and Joost's grip and still you wished the skirt was gone. Your fingertips cautiously dipped into the hair at the nape of Joost's neck and Joost responded by pulling you closer to him. It still wasn't close enough. Joost leaned down to whisper into your ear.

"You look very nice," his breath ghosted over the skin on your neck and your breath hitched.

"You do too," you said and it was almost sweet. You needed to get him out of here as fast as possible. "You wanna go for a smoke?" you proposed.

"I don't have any cigs left," Joost said.

"I think I saw a cigarette vending machine in the lady's restroom," you said and took Joost's hand in yours to lead him through the crowd. As you reached the door to the restroom you could feel Joost hesitating. "Don't worry, there's no one inside," you said and scurried through the door frame. The door closed behind Joost and the music was reduced to some sounds in the distance. Beside the vanity was the vending machine you had spoken of.

"This is a condom vending machine," Joost stated.

"Oh," you giggled. You took out a euro from your purse and proceeded to buy one condom. "Well," you said as you took the condom from the slot. "There's always other vices you could indulge in instead," you smirked at him.

"What are you proposing?" Joost asked, his hand leaning against the wall beside you.

"What does it sound like I'm proposing?" you looked up at him, condom in hand.

Joost took the condom from your fingers and put it in his pocket before he leaned down and his lips crashed into yours. His right hand held the back of your head, the other grabbed you by your hips. Your lips hungrily moved in sync with each other before they opened and your tongues met. Your arms wrapped around Joost to pull his body closer to yours. You wanted him to feel your breasts pressed against his chest. You sighed into the kiss as you could tell that this kiss alone wouldn't satiate either of you. You blindly reached for the door of one of the stalls and pushed it open before you both stumbled into it.

You broke off the kiss briefly to lock the door of the stall, Joost's mouth eagerly kissing along your neck instead. His hands were resting on your waist, slowly pushing up the fabric of your top to reveal your stomach. You were pressed against the wall of the bathroom stall, not an inch left between you. Joost's lips found yours again. You opened your legs slightly so Joost's leg could slip in between yours. His right hand trailed down your hip until it rested on your upper thigh. You couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hip against Joost's thigh as vivid images of him fucking into you flickered through your mind. You moaned against Joost's lips as you desperately needed to make your wants known.

"I- I- I need," you tried to get out in between kisses. "I need you."

"You got me," Joost murmured against your skin as he kissed down your neck again. "Don't worry, m’en meisje."

His hand ghosted up your thigh and pushed up the hem of your skirt. Your arousal was hot with anticipation. As his hand reached your panties his fingers softly grazed over the fabric right where your clit was. Your hips bucked lightly and Joost grinned against the skin of your neck.

"So eager," Joost tutted.

His fingers carefully pushed your panties to the side until his fingers could dip into your folds. Your head fell back and you bit into your lip to stifle any moans you otherwise would have let out if you two were in private.

Your folds were slick with arousal eliminating any friction as Joost's fingers started circling your clit.

"You're so wet for me," Joost whispered against your ear. Your hands were desperately grabbing onto his shoulders, keeping yourself upright as your knees buckled. Joost's other hand was resting by your side, keeping you close to him. "So ready for me," he said, voice as soft as ever.

Joost stopped circling your clit and you almost let out a groan in frustration. His fingers inched closer to your entrance until they slipped inside of you. Your mouth slacked open, eyes tightly squeezed shut and Joost's hand caressing your side. Your nails dug into Joost's skin as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you.

"You feel so good," Joost murmured against your ear. "I bet you would feel so good around my cock." You let out a loud moan as his words triggered your vivid fantasy. "Would you like that?" Joost grinned against your skin. "Me fucking you properly?"

"God, Joost," you could only whimper.

"God, you're barely holding it together," Joost whispered. "You're so good for me," he said as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.

Suddenly you could hear the restroom door fling open and the voices of two women enter. Joost swiftly pressed his hand on top of your mouth but still continued moving his fingers inside of you. Your mind didn't even register what the voices outside the bathroom stall were talking about as all your mind was occupied with was Joost. Your body was trembling and you did everything in your power to keep yourself from orgasming right then and there as you knew that you would not be able to keep quiet through it. Joost pressed gentle kisses to the skin on your neck as your heavy breathing only intensified.

A few moments later the door closed and you were alone again. Just as you were about to allow yourself to climax Joost withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you trembling uncontrollably.

"Pleaseplease, Joost please," you could only press out. Joost's hand caressed your side and his lips trailed along your neck.

"Sshhh, mijn lieverd," Joost shushed, slowly brushing your hair behind your ear. "I need you to be a little bit more patient," he looked at you fondly. "I'm gonna take you back to my room and we're gonna do this properly." You let out a frustrated groan. You could feel your slick arousal almost dripping down your legs. Joost smoothed down your skirt and top (and his own pants that hid his raging boner) and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Come on," Joost said with a grin, his hand held out for you to take as you still stood there dumbfounded.

Reluctantly you took Joost's hand and let yourself be led outside the restroom. You didn't take too many steps before you noticed Mona, one of the stylists on your delegation come up to you.

"(Y/N)!" she hugged you. "How are you?" Mona asked and you just stared at her blankly for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I'm good," you managed to sound out. Mona raised her eyebrows amused.

"Are you drunk? I thought they didn't serve alcohol here," she laughed. Joost looked at you with a knowing smirk.

"Aaaww, she's just a little exhausted," Joost saved you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders playfully. "I was just gonna walk her to her room."

"Oh yeah, she probably just needs some rest," Mona agreed. "We need her on her best game tomorrow," she joked and squeezed your shoulder lightly. "See you tomorrow!"

"See you," you smiled weakly as Mona walked away. Joost giggled beside you. "Shut up," you said and rammed your elbow into his ribs.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

Joost could barely close the hotel room door behind him before your lips were attacking each other again. Hands quickly roaming each other's bodies, grabbing onto any piece of clothing you could get a hold of to get rid of it. Joost's t-shirt was the first to go, swiftly followed by your top and bra. Your fingers fiddled with Joost's belt as the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell on it. You lay on top of it, only your short skirt covering you. Joost grinned down at you, observing your body spread out in front of him as he unbuckled his belt and took off his pants before he joined you on the bed.

You anticipated his lips to press onto yours again but instead, they found your neck again. His hands held onto your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried them in his hair, softly massaging his scalp. As Joost situationed himself in between your legs you could feel his hard-on press against your vulva through the fabric of your clothes. You let out a moan and Joost hummed approvingly against your skin as you could finally voice your lust for him.

Joost's mouth slowly moved down to your collarbones, alternating between peppering your skin with kisses and sucking at it. His fingers found the hem of your skirt and as he kissed along down your body he pulled the skirt down as well until you were only left in your panties. Your chest was heaving with how heavy your breathing was, anticipating Joost's next move. You let out a groan as his lips connected with the skin of your inner thighs.

"Stop being such a tease," you groaned and Joost grinned against your skin. Joost's fingers hooked in your panties before he finally pulled them down.

"What is it that you want, mijn lieverd?" Joost asked innocently.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you moaned frustrated. "I want you to fuck me finally."

"With pleasure."

Joost got up from the bed and you watched as he got rid of his underwear and you admired his length.

"Hurry," you nagged and Joost rolled his eyes with a soft laugh before he put on the condom you had bought earlier and got back in bed.

"So needy," he tutted, his lips just softly grazing yours. You held onto Joost's shoulders, his hand holding the side of your face before he slowly pushed into you. Your eyes momentarily blacked out as the pleasure spread throughout your body. Joost grunted against your skin also being lost to the pleasure. "So good for me," he praised and you wondered how much longer you would be able to keep it together.

He started slowly moving in and out of you. The slow rhythm, your hands in his hair and his lips pressed to your neck made all of this almost romantic. You wrapped your legs around Joost's hips to help him penetrate into you even deeper. With your hands in his hair, you grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head from where he was still kissing your neck until his lips found yours again. You moaned into the messy open-mouthed kiss before you softly pulled his hair again to make him look at you.

"Harder," you begged and Joost grinned at you.

Joost snaked his arm around your body to keep you in place, your bodies almost pressed against each other before he started pounding into you. Your nails dug into the skin on Joost's back as the moans tumbled out of your mouth uncontrollably. With each thrust, you were edging closer to your orgasm as Joost hit all the right spots inside of you. The sounds Joost was letting out of his mouth were heavenly, his grip on you dominant yet caring.

"You feel so good," Joost grunted and the sound of his voice pushed you over the edge.

Your back arched off the bed, your breath hitched and your muscles clenched until the wave of pleasure crashed down over you and you came with a series of obscene moans. As you were still riding out your high you noticed Joost's thrust becoming slopier and his moans louder until he came with stuttering hips and plopped down beside you.

You looked at each other breathing heavily and both let out a soft laugh. Joost lifted his arm to invite you to cuddle up to him. You rested your head on Joost's shoulder, your fingers softly drawing along the lines of Joost's tattoo on the side of his stomach.

"Was this okay?" Joost asked. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," you smiled. "This was perfect."

~

The ringing of your alarm on your phone woke you two up in the morning. Your limbs were entangled with Joost's, his heartbeat steady where your hand was laid on his chest. Joost rubbed his eyes, his hair messy and you never saw him look any cuter.

"What's this?" he complained before you got out of bed to turn off your alarm. As you turned around to face Joost again you noticed his eyes widen in shock. You stopped.

"What's up?" you asked blushing as Joost stared at your naked body. Confused you looked down your body and let out a gasp. "Fuck fuck fuck," you whispered, your hand in front of your lips. "This is bad." You sat down on the edge of the bed and you could feel Joost shift behind you to get closer to you. You looked down at your thighs which were littered in pink and purple hickeys. You desperately rubbed your fingers over them as if doing that could help you get rid of them.

"Oh, liefde," Joost said, his hand cautiously resting on your waist. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," you laughed unconvincingly, trying to calm yourself down. Joost's fingers softly grazed your collarbones and you looked down only to discover even more hickeys. "Oh god," you groaned.

"On your neck as well," Joost said meekly.

You put your face into your hands and cursed yourself for having chosen a very revealing stage outfit. "It's fine," you actually laughed this time.

"Are you sure?" Joost looked at you like a puppy who had just been caught breaking an expensive vase.

"Yes," you said and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Nothing some good foundation and an impromptu costume change can fix," you said although you already dreaded what you would have to tell your delegation about those hickeys. You leaned forward to gently kiss Joost's lips. "It was worth it," you said after pulling back and Joost gave you the proudest sweetest smile you had ever seen. Definitely worth it.

[honeyhotteoks]

Okay I'm 5'7 too so thank you for your detailed description of the members and I'm not surprised but kinda am at the same time about their appearance??

Low-key love seeing all the live content but also feel left out as an Aussie atiny BUT I'm seeing skz in October so I'm excited for that!!

Speaking of their appearance, the members of skz are a lot more muscular in person than how they look.

I was expecting them to be skinny and boney but they all look incredibly strong and fit-even Han and Felix-

Han actually looks slightly more buff and muscly then Felix which surprised me and Lee Know is just as defined and muscular as Changbin which no one talks about.

Anyway- yunho brain rot.

I was listening to the audiobook of haunting Adeline because I finally caved in from the TikTok influence and my friend telling me how sexy the novel is.

Idk if it's because I'm going to therapy or I'm too old but I thought it was over-hyped-

I did love how the author described the themes of fear and stalking because when I did get tense when she'd leave the room, come back and there would be a 🌹 on the counter.

BUT I did get delulu and I was reading some scenes where zade is just consumed with Adeline and I was gasping 'like omg yunho could be like this' because his natal chart indicates if he was psychotic and unhealed enough- could delve into stalking territory.

And yes okay- this shit is toxic and scary and awful in real life BUT LET ME FANTASISE FOR A SECOND!

What if yunho was that borderline toxic boyfriend that just CANT leave you alone??

Watches you from afar, sends you messages all day-

Somnophilia thought here-

You don't live with yunho but have given him a key and go to bed with no panties on b/c it's a common occurrence he'll drive over in the middle of the night b/c it's been too long since he's felt you under him and he has to ravish you.

You wake up to his tongue on you clit as he moans and breathes your scent in which eventually leads to you making love with him as he virtually suffocates you with his body and words?

You're mine, you're not leaving me, I'm destined to be with you, on top of you, inside you, I can't breathe w/o you.

EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!!

MY FRIEND THE WAY YOU ALWAYS SERVE UP THE GREATEST IMAGERY OF ALL TIME TO RUIN ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

first of all........ love that you're seeing skz!!! i'm hoping if and when they announce tour dates for north america next year there's a chance for me to see them

as far as your yunho brainrot goes................. IM DIZZY. i love your natal chart content, and i've been so obsessed with the idea of yunho being like perfect boyfriend great guy................but................there's that part of him that just can't help being possessive and having this sense of ownership over his partner.

i was just actually reading a fic for another fandom along the lines of what you're describing and i was like YUNHO YUNHO YUNHO the whole time. i might write my own version but......... brainrot under the cut

so i think there's two yunho possibilities that i love within this like possessive/stalker/dubcon realm, and one is straight up like suuuuuper healthy relationship but they play with CNC in intense ways and do full on like roleplay OR my current favorite brainrot which aligns with your idea and the fic i was just reading which is like...... desperately obsessed desperately in love fully fixated on reader not leaving him because he just has to consume her fully at all times.

he and reader have been dating for a while and he's honestly the 10/10 perfect boyfriend (she thinks) only.... she knows he gets a little funny about certain things. when other guys talk to her he just has to have his hands on her, and when he worries about her he really worries, almost too much. he gets jealous about the funniest little things, and he's always nervous about change, he just doesn't want anything to burst their little bubble so much so that he's controlling the situation a little too much. but.... she also loves him, and he hasn't really stepped over the line of toxic.......... until she catches him stealing a pair of her panties and realizes his phone is full of pictures of her.

and it starts off like an argument, until he starts to confess his real fantasies. and he knows it might be too much, but she makes him so insane it's like he can't help himself. and the longer he talks about all of those fantasies, confessing how fucked he knows it is and how she really could do better, she just keeps getting more and more turned on. and it's shocking to her too, but she really fucking likes it. she's never had someone take care of her, really and truly take care of everything and just let her exist without having to make all the decisions or take control, and he's just offering it all to her on a platter she just has to let him take it.

and so while he thinks revealing his desires is about to break them up, and he's losing his fucking mind about it, she's ready to double down hard on the relationship and on what they do behind closed doors. so she shocks him when she not only agrees for more but asks for more.

and so that's when she gives him the key, that's when she tells him that he's allowed to come in whenever he wants. to touch her whenever he wants. she wants it all, but all she asks in exchange is that he stops hiding his desires from her, because that's what was driving the wedge between them. he's patient about using the new found control though, because he doesn't know what that will do for their relationship and she doesn't necessarily know what she's allowing him to do..... he can't smother her ALL at once.

but that changes when she falls asleep one night before texting him goodnight, she's been stressed and worn thin and he's not had the opportunity to see her let alone take care of her..... and he's feeling a little neglected too. and he waits a couple of hours for a response, but finally he decides it's time to use the key. so he drives over, slips in quietly, and finds her sound asleep, phone still clutched in her fingers and a video looping on repeat.

he's hard in a second, desperate in a second, and he has to do something about it. so he starts off slow, peeing off her clothes and gently teasing her nipples, getting a blush in her cheeks and making her perfectly hot and receptive to his tongue teasing her sweet clit.

she’s been so tired lately that she’s well and truly out, and she doesn’t really wake up until he’s teasing her wet cunt with his cock, not quite fucking her yet but everything in between. and when she wakes it’s mid-orgasm and desperate for more, and she's aware that something feels different but she just woke up and she's caught between realizing yunho is actually here and pushing himself inside her and thinking it might be a dream.

but he's whispering to her, clutching her close and begging her to just let him have this.... and of course she will, she agreed, but as she comes more and more into consciousness the feeling of him and his words start to make sense. he’s not wearing a condom for the first time ever, and that's not something they've ever agreed on going without before. she's just trying to figure out what is going on but he's fucking into her harder and deeper than before, with a whimpering need on his lips that makes her body curl up in pleasure and she knows she should stop him but truthfully she doesn't want to.

and while she clings to him, yunho's delirious. the feeling of having her completely, of knowing he's the only person who's ever been inside her fully with nothing between them, of knowing that the risk might be worth it. his mind starts to spin until he's a babbling mess, telling her he's going to leave a piece of himself behind for her, make them whole, make sure she can never ever leave.

and even though she knows it's a terrible idea, a decision only made in the middle of sex because it feels good, she finds herself clutching him closer, goading him on. no one has ever wanted her quite like he does and it makes her want to throw everything she's ever cared about right out the window if it means he'll look at her like this forever.

ANYWAYS now i have to write full lowkey toxic possessive yunho with a reader who is down to be fully consumed by him like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[pockybeagle]

I've got this in my head, and I just want to get it out because if I keep going over it, it'll turn into a fic, and I don't want it to. It's just a phone dialogue, based more or less in the present time, where Alex calls Miles to ask him something:

‘Do you know Ao3?’

‘Conversations start with a hello, Alex,’ Miles replies, with an amused snort. ‘But- yeah, it's kind of like fanfiction and wattpad, isn't it?’

‘What the fuck is wattpad?’ was Alex's reply, which made Miles click his tongue.

"It's like fanfiction and ao3- it's- fuck- it's like- remember that time we found a story where a fan had written that you and her met and fucked? Well, they're all used for the same thing. I mean, not to write things about you fucking fans, but people use them to write their own versions of stories they like, or series, or actors or-"

‘They wrote that we fuck!’ exclaimed Alex, shocked, and all he got in response was a consensual silence, almost as if Miles had stopped breathing. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘Um, yeah, something-something I knew,’ Miles replied, slightly uncomfortable.

‘And why didn't you ever mention it?’ practically shrieked Alex into the phone's microphone, making Miles' eardrums ache. "There's a lot of people who are convinced that we fucked and-!

"Well, Alex, I think we encouraged that rumour quite a bit, don't you? Do a little mea culpa,’ Miles said, with a snort. Alex, again, shrieked.

'It was a fucking publicity stunt, Miles, and yes, the idea was to create that buzz but - but not this, Miles. There are hundreds of stories where- have you read any of this?’ he asked suddenly, in a slightly accusatory tone. Miles felt his cheeks burn.

‘Some things, just out of curiosity,’ he replied, and went ahead to clarify before Alex shrieked again. "I wanted to know if people wrote things about me, yeah? But no, there's a lot of fics about you fucking fans but of me- there's only fics of me fucking with you,’ he said, with a snort that was a mixture of indignation and amusement. ‘I should be the more annoyed of the two of us, at least some of my fans should be fantasizing about fucking me,’ he protested, though he let out a laugh at the same time. Alex must not have found any of it funny.

‘Your fucking fans fantasise about you busting my ass!’ he protested, scandalised, and his almost sanctimonious tone (Miles knew Alex wasn't exactly a prude), made him let out a laugh. ‘Don't laugh you fucking pervert! Why the fuck are them writing this? And why are you always the one who-?’

‘Not always,’ Miles interrupted him, with a playful tone that was meant to relax him, but he must have guessed that Alex was in no mood for laughter.

‘You seem to know too much about this!’ he accused him again.

‘I did my research,’ he replied, guilelessly, even if his cheeks still burned slightly. Alex, on the other end of the line, stood for a long moment in silence.

The silence became too long, so long that Miles began to feel slightly worried.

‘Are you really as good at fucking as they imply in these stories?’ asked Alex finally, always acting completely unexpected, even to Miles who had known him for so many years.

‘I'm indognated by that question, Alex,’ he replied, falsely indignant. ‘Obviously, those stories don't do me justice,’ he had expected a witty or mocking comment in response, instead, all he heard was Alex passing his saliva heavily, he could almost visualise in his eyes his Adam's apple lowering. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Curiosity,’ Alex said, in an all-too-innocent thread of a voice. Alex only sounded innocent when he was guilty.

‘Would you like to-know if it's true?’ asked Miles, taking a too-risky leap he'd been avoiding taking for many, many years but-why the fuck had Alex called him? That fucker never did anything if he didn't have a plan behind it.

‘I know, you just told me,’ was the terse reply. ‘I just wanted to know if you were aware of this, and I see that you are and I'm outraged that you're not outraged,’ he added, resuming his annoyance. Miles clicked his tongue.

‘Oh, Alex, it's almost a compliment,’ Alex's response was a snort that surely summed up several insults. ‘In any case, the proposal still stands,’ Miles repeated, not knowing where the courage to insist came from. Maybe it was the beer he was drinking.

'Proposal?'

‘Yes, if you ever want to know if those stories are similar to reality or not - I could show you,’ Miles replied, also using the tactic of sounding too innocent and casual.

‘Those stories have filled your head with absurd ideas,’ Alex said, snorting. ‘It wouldn't be like that,’ he added, pointing out the absurdity. "They're fantasies, reality is always different. It's like porn and-"

‘It would be fucking better,’ again, silence. ‘I'm sure it would,’ he added, incredulous at his own audacity.

‘You're cocky,’ Alex said with a nervous chuckle, Miles clicked his tongue.

‘Confidence isn't being cocky,’ he replied. ‘We could-’

‘I gotta go, Miles, I'm busy,’ Miles must have expected that, maybe that's why Alex's escape wasn't a surprise.

‘Yeah, sure - keep enjoying your - reading,’ he said, and it was he who hung up the phone, not waiting for an answer.

Alex was going to call back, Miles had known him for twenty years, and he didn't know how he'd gotten into his best friend's head - but once Alex had something on his mind he was unable to get it out of his head until he got it.

And at that moment, that something was Miles. It was a sudden surprise but - fuck, that was his lucky day, wasn't it?

At midnight, Miles was sitting on the couch at home, drinking a beer and watching an unwatched TV show. It was just as the clock struck 00 that his phone rang and he smiled, knowing he had just won a fight he never fought.

‘Hi Alex,’ and just like that, that's how it all started.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

TWST related: about Idia’s designer choices, Azul’s Jamil-related fantasies and other stuff.

Anonymous asked:

Are you going to draw more genderswap twst soon? My bisexual heart enjoys the men but craves the females. I'll even take writing.

Anon!! Thank you so much for enjoying the ladies~ 🥹 They’re very special to me as well.

I actually draw them quite often these days, this is why we post them a lot on our Ko-Fi and 🔑🔞twt… Maybe I’ll finish up something and we’ll post it. Eventually. At some point. Knowing that you’re waiting for them. 💪

As for the writing, we have at least one ask prompting hcs about them, so maaaybe I’ll write some pretty soon.

Anonymous asked:

thank you for being one of the sole people feeding the shroudcest nation. i will lay my life down for you

We’re happy to do our part, Anon 🫡 The only nation I am willing to serve.

In all honesty, I am very glad you like our interpretation of these two and their relationship <3

Anonymous asked:

I just want to say as a robotfucker Ortho’s appearance with his bondage gear inspired look that is canonly built by Idia just carries the ship by itself. Why is Idia such a weirdo degenerate pervert lol

YES LOL

I love that the majority of sus decisions in Ortho’s gears are the result of Idia’s design. And we’ve heard a couple of times that Idia is all about aesthetic + functionality, so…. Idia, mister, sir, please explain this…. Or rather, show your inspiration board. Come on, don’t be shy, we won’t judge👀

Anonymous asked:

You know those femme fatale characters that are as dangerous as they are beautiful, but who also seem completely devoted to the big villain of the story? I think that's the first thing that comes to Azul's mind when he imagines a romantic partner, except instead of an elegant and mysterious lady it's Jamil.

Azul, don't you know that those types turn against their boss/partner as soon as it's convenient for them? (something that is also true for Jamil, oh!) Realistically he knows that he would hate to be in a relationship with someone like that, but he can still let himself fantasize from time to time

This is actually quite a good point, Anon. I think this is exactly where Azul would put Jamil in his fantasies: this way they end up being a power-couple, but Jamil is still his pretty trophy snake. He is also probably aware that Jamil would never be fully and genuinely devoted to him, but yeah, just like you said, that won’t stop him from fantasising lol

Actually I think in Azul’s mind he would always outsmart Jamil somehow. Like Jamil would try to backstab him, but Azul predicted that he would, and therefore Jamil’s plan would backfire… hey, this is actually their dynamic in Ch4, sort of, at least in the Snake Whisper scene. So yeah, Jamil tries to betray him, Jamil gets overpowered and outwitted, they have a fight and then they have passionate sex during which Jamil can’t help but give in because he wants Azul so much and finds his intelligence and cunningness very sexy.

Of course, those are the fairy tales Azul tells himself as he falls asleep at night… who knows what the reality of that scenario would be.

m1lk-n-cook1es asked:

I saw you talking about twisted Shrek & Donkey and I've been thinking about making a DreamWorks-based fan school (but idk if they'll have a rivalry with NRC and RSA since it'll be a company feud, but I'm referencing the fact that DreamWorks was founded by a former Disney employee) so maybe their twisted versions can be from there

That would actually be funny lol Not sure what role they would play in-universe, but yeah, a mage that used to work at RSA/NRC suddenly opening up another school for those who deemed too unfit for these two schools? Or something like that.

Anonymous asked:

There are, surprisingly, or maybe not, a lot of mushroom themed household objects.  Do you think Jade only uses objects shaped liked mushrooms?  Is he trying to replace the utensils in the Mostro Lounge with mushroom shaped cooking ware?  Do you think any of the other boys have similar...fascinations?

I think Azul wouldn’t allow that… He is a meanie and doesn’t understand just how much it would boost everyone’s morale if Jade used mushroom-shaped cooking ware! But unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to fit the Lounge’s theme, even if it’s just for the kitchen…

In reality, I think if Jade were to try to sneak in some mushroom-themed stuff, he would do just for the sake of subtly being a menace lol

Also, there are surprisingly little mushroom-shaped things in Jade’s own room and accessories. What if he only acknowledges the real ones? 🤔 But then again, I could easily see him having an obnoxious collection of ceramic and plushy mushrooms in the future. It all started with a mushroom-shaped salt and pepper shakers…

[hyodyton]

Saw that you said you’ve seen 11 adaptations of Great Expectations? So curious on your rankings and which ones you like the most/reccomend!

OMG AHAH YES... It's even more than 11 now! Including theatre productions, even went to one recently :')  English is not my native language, BUT..

I rank them, but mostly for myself, as the criteria is very specific.

But I can recommend them! I'll talk mostly about the ones I liked, because the ones I hated could be talked about forever.

Naturally, the 1946 version is good, even if it has a romantic ending (which I personally can't stand, but it's present in 90% of the adaptations, so if it happens in the final seconds, you can tolerate it). At least the atmosphere is retained and the film is really great.

I also really liked the 1922 silent black and white Danish film, there's something special about it. Naturally, it was quite shabby, but the actors show everything perfectly with their facial expressions. And most importantly, it's atmospheric and funny. I highly recommend watching it if only for the sake of the experience! I was especially hooked by the very first scene. It's very rare that an adaptation pays more attention to it than the scene where Pip and Magwitch meet. When, as in the book, it's quite sad, as Pip strokes tombstones and fantasises about what his parents might have looked like. So in the film it takes a certain amount of time and he just lies by the tombstones while the wind ripples the grass and you can see the gallows in the background.

For me in general, the most important thing about an adaptation of Great Expectations is that it has to be funny and tragic. Humour is such an important part of the book, and black humour at that.

The 1999 series isn't bad either, although it's quite dark. But here I was sometimes confused by the presentation of the characters, but it's definitely very good compared to many others.

But my personal favourite is the 1989 series, I like everything about this adaptation. And it's naturally tasteful, but all the characters behave the way I expect them to! Especially Pip, Estella and Herbert, they generally often screw up in their character writing in adaptations. In this version, Pip is literally the best I've ever seen.

And Miss Havisham, how gorgeous she is! She is, by the way, played by the actress who played Estella in the 1946 version! (and who better to play Miss Havisham than Estella, ahah).

There's a lot in this adaptation that's often cut or portrayed in a way that's better not tried. Hammersmith with the Pockets family, Wemmick's house is charming with A.P. and Miss Skiffins! What a delightful Joe and Biddy there...... And the fight scene between Pip and Herbert? Wonderful. Funny, ridiculous and with a complete lack of any aggression, as it should be. Pip and Herbert are great here in general, very nice. 

In short, yes. Favourite adaptation.

The 1981 series isn't bad either!

In other adaptations I usually only like certain elements, or the way certain moments are played around.

And it's often just a shame that good actors are used so poorly.

I don't like the 2011 and 2012 versions at all, although I've seen 2012 occasionally praised. But how bad is it for me.... Such disrespect to Estella's character. Not to mention the others, Pip I can't digest here at all. Literally the only good thing I could see for myself was the use of Handel's nickname. But there's a very strange Herbert here and it looks very vulgar and not sincere.

In both these versions Miss Havisham is played by eminent admirable actresses, but how strangely the character of the heroine is turned out by the writers... Such wasted potential with such a cast. There are especially a lot of questions for 2011 in terms of Miss Havisham. Brr. I also hate it when Biddy is made whiny and helplessly in love with Pip. So does Estella...

( Also a shame about Harry Lloyd as Herbert, how little he was and how hastily he was cut. It's a strange desire to cut Herbert out of the plot, to fuse him somewhere. Often, he and Pip aren't even close friends, it's like they're no more than neighbours and drinking buddies. There is no deep connection and no tender loyal friendship).

The 1974 version is neither good nor bad, but rather odd. But I was amused by the scene where Molly is forced to show her strength. She and Drummle wrestle at arm's length and he, of course, shamefully loses.

Here I decided to slow down and not describe absolutely everything I've watched so the post doesn't get any longer. (God I hope you find this post at all useful... And I hope you'll respond.Honestly, if you get the urge to discuss it, I'd be delighted!)

Although it's impossible not to mention the Australian cartoon 1983. It's so bad it's good. It's so fucked up. Had the odd pleasure of watching it, but of course it's bad.

But. Most of all, I hate the 2023 version with all my heart. It doesn't have a single silver lining. It's just disgusting and unbearable to watch, they wanted to look at the story in a new way but fucked up absolutely everything. What a waste of cool cast, impossible.

[putschki1969]

2023/04/23 Blog post by Wakana 久しぶりのネットサイン会☆〜見守りニッパーくん〜 

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

First Online Sign Event in a While☆〜Nipper-kun is Watching Over Me〜

The other day, I finally started doing my first interviews for the upcoming album😊 After hearing some of the album impressions from the interviewers, I feel an immense joy that people are finally getting to listen to it. I can’t wait to hear from all of you soon!

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

May 31st is still a long way to go. Until then, please try to be patient while fantasising about the "Imaginary Album Sono Saki he"!🥺✨

Well, last Sunday, I did an online sign event for the first time in a long while, it was for everyone who pre-ordered my original 3rd album "Sono Saki eh"! It's been such a long time since I've done a session like that. Thankfully, a lot of people were able to participate, I ended up signing autographs and talking for nearly 3 hours＼(^o^)／Overall, this is my third online sign session, so I tried to devise a method based on the experience from the previous events. First of all, I noticed that I will always make mistakes if I write your name while talking so this time, I tried to make sure to finish a certain amount of sheets before taking a break to talk with you. Essentially, I completely separated the writing and chatting time! \\\\٩( 'ω' )و //// This strategy worked very well, and the number of errors decreased dramatically! Also, once we had reached the halfway point we decided to include a brief intermission of about 8 minutes. During that time, I we were playing video snippets of the Christmas concert which is included as bonus content on the A version of my album. We also showed a past MV☺️ I was trying my best to look through everyone's comments, it was so much fun that the the whole event went by in the blink of an eye😍Thank you very much to everyone who participated 🤗💕 If you weren’t able to watch it in real-time, the archived video is still available until the end of today! Please take a look! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoTGVkjFxB4

When I started watching it just now, I couldn't stop laughing it was pretty funny 😂And cute little Nipper-kun was watching over me from beginning to end🐕I didn't even realize he was there until the end🤣🤣 Oi, Nipper-kun! Why didn’t you tell me you were there earlier??! 😊The silent pressure of him watching got quite bad.

The second online sign ession will be held on May 13th (Sat) at 17:00❗️See you again on the Official Victor YouTube Channel⭐️

And yesterday, the advanced fan club lottery has started for my "Wakana Billboard Live 2023 ~Sono Saki he~"! This time, I will be performing together with Satoshi Takebe on piano, Tetsuro Toyama on guitar, and Yugo Maeda on manipulator! I want you to enjoy this new album in a lovely acoustic manner among the special Billboard Live atmosphere🥰 Please come and see me on July 6th at Billboard Live Yokohama and July 20th at Billboard Live Osaka😆

Well, I shall leave it at that☆See you soon☆( *'▽'*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

[elapsed-spiral]

I would love to hear your thoughts on Prize Every Time or Trade Descriptions Act!

Thanks for indulging me! Man, it feels like an age since I wrote Prize Every Time but here’s some director’s commentary before I forget even more:

Setting: I love the British seaside, so much so that I live there now. I don’t live in Ramsgate but I had a comment asking if I did, which was a badge of honour. The actual setting is a mishmash of Ramsgate (the lighthouse, the concept of Ramsgate Time and the overall Vibes) and Southend (which has a theme park on the front, which Ramsgate doesn’t).  

Structure: I’m happy overall with the plot and structure. I said it before but I still maintain that this is a better version of You’ve Got Mail's plot, which I didn’t watch until I’d finished writing the fic.  

Characters: Baddy Zaddy was my Stede focus novel length fic, so I went into Prize wanting it to be more Ed leaning. I like how I wrote both Ed and Stede, but I especially enjoyed digging down into Ed’s mummy and daddy issues.  

Favourite scene: I think one of my favourite scenes may actually be most people’s least favourite? I really like when Ed and Stede finally meet and forgive one another. Stede’s dialogue felt like some of the best and most honest dialogue I’d written in a while. I think some readers expected things to be very dramatic and angsty but I’d planned that resolution from the start and was happy with how it came out.  

Best joke: Ed fantasising about getting shagged over a Tesco self service till is fairly iconic. 

Biggest regret: I think some of the final chapters could have been tighter. Like Stede, I got a bit bogged down in project management, but it’s fine, you live and learn. 

Cheeky secret: I ummed and ahhed about whether to add in the Lucius Reveal at the end. I plotted the fic as I went (I’m fine writing plot outlines if I’m writing an actual, literal book for sale but I don’t find them fun so I don’t do them for fics) and made a point of sticking in enough Lucius Reveal hints, in case I decided to go that way but was still undecided until close to the end. My mind was finally made up when I got the mental image of Ed planting a big, sloppy thank you kiss on Lucius. 

[arkhamasyl-m]

Joker Folie à Deux Prediction:

So I had this random thought at like 3AM, and wanted to write it down because it would be funny if I got it right or close to right but anyways.

Basically I think the whole film it will be focused on Harleen and her descent into becoming Harley Quinn, which seems obvious enough, however I think the majority of the film will be from her perspective as she drags Arthur along for the ride all while he’s still struggling with how two persona’s. Her growing relationship with him and her getting a similar alter ego to him would start making him go crazy again before eventually he becomes the Joker and she becomes Harley.

However I think there will be a plot twist, similar to the first film. I believe the film will be from Harley’s perspective and the musical numbers will be from her twisted mind as she slowly descends, with it being framed as if everything happening is from Harley’s point of view as she is now the unreliable narrator, and the audience will be led on to believe that she is manipulating Arthur into becoming the Joker again, implying her fall to madness is bringing him down with her BUT the twist is it’s all actually Arthur’s delusions.

The entire film was implied to be Harley’s unreliable version of events but in actuality it was his and the musical numbers and implications that Harley manipulated him was all actually his hallucinations.

If you want to go a step further, I had an idea that perhaps EVERYTHING is a delusion and the reality is that Arthur is still in the Asylum and started fantasising about a romantic relationship with his psychiatrist (Harleen) but as a nihilist and a mentally disturbed man, his romantic fantasies turn dark and he portrays the girl as the villain and himself as the victim. This would parallel his relationship (or lack there of) with Sophie Dumond, as he had one nice interaction with her and imagined a whole relationship with her. He now has a nice psychiatrist and imagines a whole life with her. His delusions being darker than they were in the first film would also make sense since he is a bad guy by the end of it, so him making himself out to be an innocent victim whilst the woman he’s enamoured with is portrayed as a villain would indeed fit I think.

Though I do think the entire thing being fake is kinda dumb, so that entire last part can be ignored it’s just something I thought of.

TL;DR: In Joker 2, the film will be framed as it Harleen is the unreliable protagonist, and all the odd events are from her perspective however it will be revealed at the end that it’s actually Arthur imagining these events and making himself out to be the victim whilst portraying Harleen as the bad guy.

[writtenexplorations]

Author's notes

This is a collection of brief notes on the influences and circumstances that shaped the stories in this collection.

Santa Reparata:

This story is an exception to my usual creative process. It came to me in a dream during the pandemic. I woke up one night paralysed by fear, with memories of descending into a dark tunnel. I wrote the skeleton of the story that same night and subsequently shaped it into a tale of introspection and disconnection from the outside world.

SystemCheck:

Thinking about a friend who trained as a data scientist, I thought about how we train people to do jobs that feel very machine-like, and at the same time, we train machines, like chat bots, to talk and feel like humans. This quickly formed into a funny thought: how would a machine face a very human-like problem?

Writing a story in code felt somehow too complicated for a reader, but I was encouraged by the very readable  'Pigmy' (by Chuck Palahniuk), a book intentionally made difficult by the broken English of a foreign student, and “Flowers from Algernon” (Daniel Keyes), a story told in first-person by a man with severe cognitive challenges.

Slow:

Tending to my garden on a summer night, I started fantasising about the snails that came every evening to nibble on my lettuce. I was in an unhappy job at the time so these thoughts took the shape of someone breaking out of an oppressive system to be a freer version of themselves. This was written years before Pixar made the movie 'Turbo', and it's been fun to see a very different execution of a similar idea.

Out:

This is one pretty simple. I wanted to write something more action-driven and less self-reflective than my usual writings. I challenged myself to write about something unexpected, which included movement. The streets of south London were the setting I had in mind while writing this story.

Float:

During the first pandemic lockdown I was split between feelings of being trapped at home but also being lucky to have a safe space in my house, with food, entertainment and everything else I needed to survive.

Cut off from friends and family, I played with the feelings of living suspended in time, away from the lives of others, trapped but not in danger.

It felt right from the beginning to write the protagonist of this story completely genderless. I find it interesting to hear that readers assigned one or another gender to the protagonist, when actually none is set by the story.

A Theory of Unity:

There are a couple of very clear influences on this story.

The idea of a scientific breakthrough with the potential for broad societal changes was inspired by Ursula Le Guinn’s “The Dispossessed”. But while she developed her characters beautifully and chose to fly over the actual theory, I opted to do the opposite.  

The theory is my own amalgamation of personal thoughts, where I recognise the influence of Alan Watts and Richard Burke (a short paragraph is actually a play on his ‘Cosmic Consciousness”) plus light touches of Buddhist and Muslim concepts such as codependent origination and the oneness of divinity.

Writing one story across unrelated smaller parts is something I wanted to try since reading “The Years of Rice and Salt” by Kim Stanley Robinson, and this theme felt well suited for.

[annisthree]

Chapter VII: Lean on me

previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~6k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, canon typical violence, alcohol consumption

Chapter summary: The journey back from Coruscant is much more exciting than anyone expected. Back on Yavin IV, a new crewmember officially joins their squad.

A/N: Yeah, so I changed my mind; it's not gonna be a separate fic. I have no idea what I'm doing. Somebody stop me.

Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

The caf was stale and bitter, but it filled her with a pleasant wave of warmth. In fact, it warmed Marla up enough that she could consider taking off her jacket - but it was so cosy, even with a gaping hole at the side. More importantly, though, there was still a hint of Cassian beneath the stench of smoke. She hated how comforting that made her feel.

Melshi and Marla were both sitting in the ship's common room, but he was busy typing up what he'd learnt from the Imperial database (a cheeky move from Cassian's side, she thought - once Melshi hands in his writing assignment, Cassian's mission report would be more than halfway done before he even started). So she had no choice but to inspect the dirty kitchenette floor in silence.

Her own mission report, if anyone tasked her with writing one, would probably look something like this: the cantina was a dump, but whatever Cassian ordered for her made up for the questionable aesthetics of the place; the safehouse was also a dump, but at least the beds were less single than she was used to, which - what do you know - ended up coming in handy; they got to taste some of Coruscanti culture in the form of being randomly attacked on the street; her brain froze for long enough for her to come to the conclusion that middle of the fight is a perfect moment to make out with Cassian; she got to operate a repulsor crane (probably would have been more fun if she wasn't being shot at); and it turned out that the new guy wasn't that bad.

She briefly considered stealing Cassian's datapad to replace his boring report with her own version. She was sure Draven (or whoever was reading these - if anyone) would have appreciated the comedic value. Or, if not, it would at least be fun to watch them read her disquisition on how Cassian's lips tasted in the middle of a battle.

Marla smiled at the thought and finished her caf in one long sip. Maker, but he did have the most amazing lips, didn't he?

Kriffing hell. It seemed like she was becoming more and more comfortable with thinking about Cassian in that way. Half a year ago, catching herself fantasising about his lips would have made her throw herself out of the airlock - and yet, here she was, staring at the closed door of the captain's quarters, spiralling deeper and deeper into the territory she should steer clear from.

'Gonna go to the cargo bay, check out that droid Cassian is working on.' Yes, excellent idea, you go. 

Her mind's reaction was way too enthusiastic for her liking. She had nothing against the new guy. But he was an obstacle on her way to the captain's quarters... should she decide to check up on Cassian. Which she definitely shouldn't.

'Down the stairs, then down the ladder. Maybe don't activate him yet, though. I'm not sure how far Cassian has gotten.'

Melshi nodded and disappeared below deck, and Marla's inexplicable enthusiasm was replaced by a very understandable, very real and very familiar fear.

Now she really had no reason to stay where she was. It was, in the end, her ship. She could go wherever she pleased.

She slipped out of Cassian's jacket in a matter of seconds, and the sudden blast of chilly air against her bare skin was the final straw.

It was no big deal; they would just be blowing off some steam after a stressful mission. Surely she wasn't the first person in the Rebellion to sleep with her captain.

No big deal.

  *

  There was a knock on Cassian's door, crescendoing from a quiet tap into a loud, impatient bang. He didn't have to open the door to know who it was; between Marla and Melshi, only one seemed able to make the simple act of knocking into something this chaotic.

So, he wasn't surprised seeing Marla on his doorstep - but what he couldn't guess was the reason for her visit. Not that she was particularly good at hiding her feelings - on the contrary, they were all painted on her face, all five thousand of them, and that was a bit too much for him to process into one logical explanation.

'Can I help you?'

Instead of answering, she walked past him and went into his room. Right, then. Not in the mood for explanations. Fair enough.

The door closed with a mechanical swoosh. Cassian leaned against it, hooking his thumbs in his belt and patiently waiting for some clues as to the reason for Marla's visit.

He had some ideas. Some of them he liked more than others, but he decided to wait with further judgement until more information was available. He was a patient man. And she could never stay quiet for long.

Standing in the centre of the room, Marla was now fidgeting with the edge of her white shirt. She avoided eye contact, instead focusing on the wall a few steps to his right.

'Would you believe me if I said that Melshi was occupying the refresher below deck?'

Don't get your hopes up.

'Well, now I definitely--'

He was planning to finish that sentence, he really was, but then a couple of things happened.

First, Marla scanned the room, still visibly avoiding looking at Cassian. Then, she made her way to the refresher, leaving the door ajar as she entered.

And then she nonchalantly took her shirt off, letting it fall to the ground.

Consequently, Cassian's mind became temporarily vacant. He forgot not only what he wanted to say, but seemingly also most of his Basic.

Meanwhile, Marla proceeded to unbutton and take off her trousers, throwing them carelessly on the floor.

Oh, okay.

He had no idea how he managed to keep still. In his mind, he was already all over her, his lips claiming the soft skin on her neck, and then the rest of her body, slowly, methodically, tenderly...

They stayed like that for what seemed to have been an eternity: Marla, in nothing but underwear, traces of goosebumps slowly appearing on her arms and legs; and Cassian, painfully aware of the surprised look on his face, along with the rest of his bodily reactions.

'I thought we could save some power if we showered together,' she mumbled, unconvinced.

Oh, that classic line he had used so many times before. But it didn't matter. Somehow, in this scenario, it sounded like the most eloquent thing Cassian had ever heard.

He let out a long, heavy sigh, tilted his head back, and watched Marla through half-lidded eyes as she began taking off her sports bra. She started out slowly, carefully maintaining eye contact - only to get stuck halfway through her head, desperately fighting to wiggle herself out.

'Stupid fucking thing.'

He briefly considered letting her struggle, just to enjoy how hard she was trying to pretend she had everything under control. However, his merciful side won and stifling a laugh, he crossed the room to offer his assistance. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost his own shirt. He didn't even register taking it off.

'Thanks,' she muttered, face redder than the molten seas of Mustafar. He didn't know what he wanted more: to hug her and kiss her on the forehead until she relaxed, or to allow himself to lose whatever self-control he had left, pin her to the wall and let his hands reclaim all those places he'd been yearning to touch again.

Luckily, he didn't have to choose. Marla decided for them both, closing the already minimal distance between them and reaching down to unbutton his trousers.

'But I really do wanna take a shower, okay?' she whispered breathily, an undertone of nervousness still clearly audible. 'We're both really disgusting.'

He gave a short, quiet chuckle and motioned towards the sonic shower. 'After you.'

The shower definitely wasn't designed with two people in mind, but right now, Cassian was almost grateful for the lack of space.

He had enough clarity of mind to turn the shower on before he finally pulled Marla as close as he could, as if to make sure there wasn't a single spot on their bodies left untouched. It felt like they were burning and melting into one singular entity.

And then she kissed him, impatiently, fiercely, weaving her fingers into his hair, and he kissed her back, and he wished that kiss could tell her all those things he didn't know how to describe or name. He wished it could tell the story of fear and comfort, of guilt and absolution, of finding purpose in the most unlikely place.

He hoped one day he would be able to put all those things into words. For now, though, a kiss had to suffice.

They briefly broke the kiss to catch a breath, and for a moment, her exhales became his inhales, and the air tasted like caf and anticipation.

'Good thing we passed on those pickled eggs,' he whispered, and she laughed and rested her forehead on his, and he felt like the happiest man in the galaxy.

He rarely allowed himself to feel that way. It wasn't smart, it wasn't strategic, and he had a very strong suspicion it would inevitably lead to getting really, really hurt. Or dead, killed by his naivety and selfishness, and by his brain's increasingly frequent tendency to get distracted in the least desirable circumstances.

But he needed this. After years of convincing himself that he was fine, he really fucking needed this.

He would have been perfectly happy staying like that forever, with her breath on his jaw and her heartbeat against his skin. But he also wanted more, and her eyes told him she did, too.

And so he continued staring into her eyes as his hands slowly began travelling down from her neck, tracing the line of her collarbones, and then lower, finally reaching her chest.

He could feel her shiver ever so slightly - and if he thought the smile she'd been giving him before was criminally disarming, then the bliss that painted on her face at that moment, as he continued tracing the soft skin around her nipples - that look on her face was simply cruel. Stars, how did she do all those things to him? How could it be so damn easy to have him wrapped around her finger?

Once Cassian was sure the sight was forever imprinted in his memory, he slowly moved to kiss Marla's neck. She tilted her head back and sighed quietly, and that was all the encouragement he needed to keep going, lower, and then lower, until his lips replaced his hands, and she almost jumped up at the contact.

'Good?' he chuckled, purposefully letting the air tickle the now-damp skin of her nipples, and she mumbled something in reply, incoherently enough for him to count it as a confirmation.

She gasped as his lips came in contact with her skin again, and this time it was her turn to let out a small laugh, and then he felt her chest vibrate as she finally managed to force her voice to cooperate.

'Come on, Keef, I-- I don't have all-- all day.'

He stopped immediately and straightened up, giving her the most disapproving look he could muster - which probably wasn't very disapproving at all, seeing how he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from forming a smile. The only reaction he managed to get from her was a chuckle.

But the chuckle quickly turned into a surprised sigh when he suddenly pushed her back against the shower wall.

'You're mean,' he commented with a grin, before turning his attention back to her neck. God, he loved that spot. It was so soft, and it somehow always smelled wonderfully inviting, even when she was fresh out of a fight, sweaty, dirty, and so ridiculously and cruelly arousing. 'I'm not sure I want to continue spending time with someone who makes fun of me,' he whispered into her neck, his fingers slowly working their way down until they reached their destination at the apex of her thighs, and she inhaled so sharply he automatically retreated.

'No, no, no, no, please-- please don't stop now.' She grabbed his hand and placed it back where it had been, and it was so bloody hot and yet so bloody precious to see her this desperate for him that he began wondering how much self-restraint he had left.

Meanwhile, Marla sighed again and gently shifted her hips forward, pushing into his hand as he continued exploring her, reading each quiet moan and each tensing of her muscles.

'Look at me.' He had to see her face, had to see the gentle movement of her parted lips as she desperately gasped for air, and that divine spark she had in her eye, and those beautiful lines that formed between her eyebrows as she shut her eyes tight when he slipped one of his fingers inside her.

His other hand went to her chin to gently tilt it in his direction, just so that he wouldn't miss any of it, and her eyes were suddenly so big and so full of everything he loved about her that he almost forgot what he was doing.

But he didn't forget. He didn't stop. Soon, her panting began quickening, and he could feel that air on his lips, and it was warm, and fast, and sweet. 

It was fascinating, reading all those signals and reacting to what her body was telling him. And, although Cassian Andor may have had his flaws, he sure as hell knew how to listen.

And so he listened, and he replied with his own wordless ode, and his hands and eyes and lips accompanied him, and he could see she heard him, too, and her body was responding more and more decidedly, boldly, uncontrollably, and then finally he felt every single muscle in her body tense, and then she squeezed her eyes shut and yanked her head forward, pushing it into the base of his neck, and whimpering quiet prayers into his skin, and it was all he ever wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

It felt like forever before she started breathing again and pulled away from him ever so slightly. He could feel her legs shake as she grabbed onto his chest to steady herself and gave him that beautiful blissful look again.

He was happy, so fucking happy he felt he would never need anything again. At one point, he realised he almost stopped breathing too, and stars, he felt everything, all of it, all at once, and it was so fucking beautiful he could barely stand it.

'How about we find someplace more comfortable?' Marla's voice sounded more precious than ever, with that barely noticeable tremble and softness she normally never allowed herself to show.

And so, of course, he did what she asked him. He was long past the point of being able not to.

And it didn't matter that Melshi would probably hear them (and proceed to make fun of them for the rest of their lives); it didn't matter that Cassian was slowly losing control of this weird thing that was happening between the two of them; it didn't matter that Marla would most likely be gone as soon as this was over.

He had her now. And he knew he'd be thinking about that moment for a long time.

  *

  'Captain...? Captain, are you all right?'

Was he? Hard to tell. He definitely didn't use to get distracted mid-conversation. He was always focused, attentive, and perceptive - he had to be, or he wouldn't have lasted more than a week doing what he did. And yet here he was now, caught red-handed, staring at the vast jungle outside the landing pad on Yavin IV, completely ignoring the poor Twi'lek mechanic who had the unfortunate task of briefing him on the results of the assessment of K2SO.

It was a standard procedure, and Cassian usually didn't have problems following these - but somehow, at that particular moment, it was the most tedious and tiring conversation he could imagine, to the point of being almost physically painful.

'Yes. I apologise. Long flight.' Lie. 

'I understand,' the mechanic certainly tried to look like he understood, bless his heart, although they both knew the flight from Coruscant wasn't really long at all. Just long enough to catch a breath after the fight and finish reprogramming his droid. And take a shower, a really long and exciting shower, and then proceed to get sweaty again.

'Thank you, chief,' Damn, what was his name? Neec? Naac? 'Please, go on.'

'As I was saying, the assessment is overall positive, but there are some little tweaks I'd recommend to ensure the droid is a bit more... cooperative,' the Twi'lek paused for a moment, powering up his datapad. 'I have him scheduled for updating his behavioural parameters, reinstalling the logic module, and adding a new hardware package. He will also be fitted with a class five restraining--'

'Thank you, that won't be necessary.'

'Excuse me?' the mechanic gave him a surprised look from behind the datapad.

'I appreciate your analysis, chief, and I will make sure to keep an eye on him. But I would prefer to keep his programming as close to the original as possible. Minus, you know, the bit that made him Imperial. He needs to act like a security droid if he is ever to be useful for undercover missions.'

'I see,' the mechanic slowly replied, giving Cassian a long, careful look, before tapping something on his datapad. 'It'll just be the restraining bolt, then.'

'That won't be necessary, either.'

'But captain--'

'Thank you, chief,' Cassian repeated, a bit more decidedly this time.

'But what if--'

'As I said, I'll keep a close eye on him.'

There was a mixture of apprehension and frustration on the Twi'lek's face, and Cassian felt a brief pang of remorse for making the poor guy's life more difficult.

'Very well. But I will have to make a note of the fact that you have rejected my recommendation,' he looked up at Cassian again as if hoping that would change his mind. It did not. The Twi'lek sighed quietly and shook his head. 'You can pick him up from storage C at your earliest convenience.'

'Absolutely, chief. Thank you for your time.'

The men exchanged polite nods, and Cassian walked away, leaving behind the poor mechanic and the warmth of the sunlight that was such a pleasant change from the darkness and murkiness of Coruscant.

He wasn't yet entirely sure how he felt about the droid. It certainly made sense from the practical point of view - he would blend in perfectly during undercover missions, and the knowledge of Imperial protocol (although some of it had to be wiped out) could potentially be a significant asset. But, even though it's been a couple of years (four? five? he tried not to count), there was still a B2-shaped hole in Cassian's heart, and it felt a bit strange - a bit too much like betrayal - to just replace him like that.

But Bee was out of the picture. Even if he managed to track him down, the poor old droid wouldn't be of much use in his current circumstances. And having him around, as good as it would probably feel, could also bring back some memories he wasn't quite ready to face.

That didn't make him feel any less like a traitor, but he couldn't let that cloud his judgement. Maker knows there were way too many things distracting him as it was.

Storage C was a vast warehouse in one of the underground levels of the base. There didn't seem to be any specific organisational system in place, but somehow, the warehouse workers were able to tell him exactly where to look. The only thing left was to go to the back of the room and find K2 among all the other droids that were waiting there. Which was a fairly simple task, considering Kay was twice as tall as most of them.

'Okay, buddy,' Cassian mumbled, his hand reaching out to brush against the cold metal. 'Let's get you started and see if I made the right choice.'

  *

  Meanwhile, Marla's first steps after they landed on the base led her towards the Drunken Bantha. The adrenaline of the mission, the unexpected fight, and the eventful journey back - all of that left her in dire need of a drink. Or five.

Each time she visited the cantina, there was a new addition to the erratic decor of the place. People brought back all kinds of junk from different off-world missions, which then ended up displayed somewhere on the counter, hung on the wall, or - only occasionally - serving an actual functional purpose. Thus, what started as a couple of crates with alcohol and a couple of more bins for people to sit on, very quickly became a loud, colourful assortment of trinkets and mismatched furniture.

It had a certain cosiness to it, though. The multitude of strange objects meant that whatever part of the galaxy you came from, you could always find something that reminded you of home.

They didn't have a bartender, of course - the place was still technically unsanctioned - so the bar was tended to by whoever felt like doing so. Which, at that particular moment, was a four-armed Besalisk who had definitely already had his fair share of whatever he was serving.

Sitting behind the counter (where the hell did they get bar stools? and when did that happen?), Marla quietly sipped an unidentified beer and watched the motley assortment of Rebel soldiers share stories and jokes.

'One could think you were hiding from someone,' a familiar voice interrupted Marla's quiet contemplation. She usually wasn't one to avoid company - no, that was Cassian's thing - but somehow today she was really hoping to spend some time alone and finally think through some things she'd been putting off for way too long.

Well. Evidently, the universe was sending signals she should nurture her avoidant escapism for a bit longer. She was more than happy to comply.

'One would be terribly mistaken,' she smirked at Zafe, one hand motioning to the empty bar stool beside her. 'This is probably the most obvious place for me to be in. Arguably, more obvious than our quarters.'

'Fair enough.' He gestured at the bartender and pointed at one of the bottles. 'So. I hear you're leaving again tomorrow, huh?'

'Yup. We're following the lead on those shipments. Which means we have to cross the whole damn galaxy, all the way to the Arkanis sector.'

'Well, that should be a fun ride. Is the new guy coming along with you?'

'Why, jealous?' She gave him a wide grin. 'No. It's just Cassian and me. And the droid,' the last word was accompanied by an eye-roll.

'Romantic.'

'Hardly,' Marla put all her energy into giving him the most dramatic death stare she had in her repertoire. 'For so many reasons, the main one being that there is nothing romantic about what we're doing. And it's a mission, and we're both professionals. Plus, I did mention the droid, right?'

'That sounds like a bunch of excuses.'

'You're an asshole. Get a life.'

'Ouch. Right where it hurts.' Zafe smirked back at her.

There was a loud burst of laughter from one of the tables in the corner that saved Marla from having to reply. Instead, she turned around to ask for another beer, only to find the bartender asleep with his head resting on the counter.

As she was about to turn back around to face Zafe, a loud thump caught her attention, shortly followed by another one - and before she knew it, Zafe was already behind the bar, picking up two beer bottles from the cabinet. 'What? I have only so much patience.'

The beer tasted cheap (not like that Chandrilan whisky Cassian got her on Coruscant) and watered down (how is that even possible? it was just opened...), but, as she tipped back her head to down almost half of the bottle in one go, she decided it was good enough.

'Nervous?' Zafe's eyes flickered from Marla to her bottle.

'Always.'

'About the mission or about your new boyf--'

'Shut up. We're just-- just shut up.'

The other half of the beer tasted somehow better. Similarly, the music became magically more catchy, and the loud group of Rodians playing sabacc in the corner - slightly less aggravating.

'Another one?' Such a good person, that guy. Good and non-judgemental. Cassian would have definitely--

'Based on my analysis,' a loud, mechanical voice behind her had Marla's hands instinctively shoot towards where she usually kept her blasters, 'continued consumption could impede cognitive processing, potentially impacting the Lieutenant's ability to perform optimally during tomorrow's mission.'

'Oh, great. It's you.'

Most people on the base were already aware of Cassian's new droid - the command had to send a note to all captains to warn everyone and kindly ask them to resist the urge to turn K2 into a scrap heap. Still, the appearance of a tall, Imperial-looking killing machine strolling down the halls triggered visible unease at best and outright contempt at worst.

Marla was much more inclined towards the second reaction.

'Can you go back to bothering Cassian, please?'

'I have been informed I do not yet have the clearance to accompany Cassian during mission debriefs - a fact that I personally consider to be a waste of tactical assets. He has, however, tasked me with locating you and making sure you are, I quote, not doing anything stupid.'

Completely unfazed by the attention he was getting, K2 stopped in front of Marla, his glowing eyes seemingly scanning her. Was he scanning her?

Damn it. It was bad enough that Cassian could read people's darkest, deepest secrets within seconds of meeting them. Now he had a fucking personal investigator, too.

'How considerate of him,' she groaned, mentally coming to terms with the fact Cassian had just assigned her a babysitter.

'My analysis of your vitals indicates that you are experiencing heightened stress levels,' Oh, great, so he was scanning me. 'As a droid, I do not have personal experience with stress, but I understand that it can be detrimental to one's well-being.'

'Thank you for sharing your expertise. I am forever in your debt.'

'Might I suggest engaging in a calming activity, such as meditation or breathing exercises?' There was a loud scoff coming from behind the counter, and Marla didn't even have to look to know how delighted Zafe was at her misery. Not such a good person after all, huh? 'Alternatively, physical exercise has been shown to reduce stress levels. I can assist you in finding a suitable workout routine if you would like.'

'I am perfectly capable of finding my own workout routine, thank you very much.'

'My analysis of your fitness levels--'

'Oh, for fuck's sake. You know what? Fine. I'll work on my fitness levels. In fact, I have a perfect idea how to do that.'

'Wonderful. Will you require my assistance?'

Marla felt a wide grin splitting her face. Was it a smart idea? Probably not. But she was drunk, bored and frustrated enough to give it a try.

'Yes, I will, K2. Yes, I will.'

  *

  'Why did you do this, Marla?'

'Do what?'

'You know what. Did you really think this would be a good idea?'

Marla shrugged, her eyes slowly scanning the nearly empty mess hall, very clearly avoiding looking at Cassian. The pack of frozen mattberries she was pressing to her browbone had already begun thawing, creating a small puddle of water mixed with blood next to the table Marla was sitting on.

'Let me see,' Cassian asked, and then, not waiting for a confirmation, proceeded to remove the cold compress from her forehead. 'Ouch,' he commented, inspecting the fresh cut on her browbone, surrounded by a patch of red he knew would soon turn into a colourful bruise. 'Well. I'd say I hope it teaches you a lesson, but we both know that's not happening.'

'Give me that,' she ripped the frozen berries from his hands. 'We were just sparring. I need to make sure my melee skills are on point so that I can keep saving your sorry ass from all kinds of trouble. So. I practice.'

'With a seven-foot tall Imperial killing machine?'

'I like a challenge,' she grinned at him.

'And you couldn't have sparred with Zafe or Melshi, or, I don't know, any one of the dozens of soldiers that would gladly practice with you without rearranging your face?'

'Don't be so dramatic. It's just a bruise. And, like I've said, I like a challenge. I've sparred with Zafe like a thousand times. I have also already sparred with Melshi. He's okay, but a bit slow. Good with vibroblades, though. We're meeting in the afternoon to practice knife throwing.'

Cassian stifled a sigh, invoking instead a mental image of Marla and Melshi bonding over vibroblades. He was hoping they would settle on conventional targets instead of, say, droids. Or at least his droid.

'Besides,' Marla interrupted his vision, 'you said you reprogrammed him. I was checking how well you did.'

'And?'

'The jury's still out.'

Cassian shook his head, his attention drawn by the loud thumping sound that suddenly filled the mess hall. He knew that sound.

'Cassian--' K2's mechanical voice filled the air, his words punctuated by the sound of his metal limbs hitting the floor.

Cassian could feel his exhaustion growing with each passing second.

'I told you to stay in my quarters. You know people aren't used to seeing Imperial droids on the base.'

'General Dodonna said he has sent out a memo. And, should that not suffice, I am perfectly capable of peacefully restraining anyone who tries to attack me.'

If droids could give a side eye, Cassian was sure Kay would be giving one to Marla now. She must have thought that, too, considering the aura of hostility she immediately began emitting.

'Yes. About that. In the future, please try to refrain from fighting with my crewmates. Or with anyone on this base,' Cassian said wearily, his gaze flickering back to Marla. 'Even if they ask for it.'

'Lieutenant Reid has explicitly requested my participation in her training session. I believe her exact words were Come on, you big bucket of bolts, hit me with all you've got.'

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was tired. So, so tired.

'I hear you. Still. Don't do that again. Even if she asks.'

'Noted. Would you like to hear my assessment of the lieutenant's combat skills?'

'No,' Cassian immediately shot back, loudly enough to cover up Marla's aggressive yes. 'Keep that to yourself. In fact, please don't go around assessing people's skills. It was hard enough as it was to convince the command not to have you turned into parts.'

'But Cassian--'

'Please don't.'

'Noted,' there was a brief pause before the droid resumed, and Cassian could swear he sensed a hint of judgement in that silence. 'Then perhaps you would like a report on the state of the Blackbird?'

'My ship is in great shape, thank you very much,' Marla barked back, and Cassian wondered how many more frozen mattberry packs they had in the kitchen.

'Cassian's ship,' K2 resumed, 'is indeed in satisfactory condition. However, I ran some diagnostics, and I have a couple of suggestions--'

'Cassian, please tell him to shut up, or so help me Maker...'

'The hyperdrive coolant system is running at eighty per cent efficiency, and I recommend replacing the damaged pipes in the engine room. Additionally, I suggest recalibrating the laser cannons to improve their--'

'Thank you, Kay,' Cassian interrupted him. 'I will review your suggestions later.'

'Good. You might also be interested to know I have discovered Lieutenant Reid's biological material in your quarters, Cassian. Would you like me to have her detained for further investigation?'

Out of the corner of his eye, Cassian saw Marla bury her entire face in the packet of frozen berries. What followed was a stifled snort coming out from beneath the compress.

'That won't be necessary, Kay. Thank you.'

'But Cassian--'

'The lieutenant and I were sparring,' he interrupted again, wondering how many more but Cassian-s he could take. 'After the last mission. In my quarters.'

'I see,' there it was, that judgemental pause again. 'In that case, I have no additional remarks. I will keep you updated should my assessment change.'

'Thank you, Kay. Can you go and wait for me in my quarters?'

'Are you going to be sparring now?' The halfway-defrosted mattberries produced a loud whimper, followed by something that could have either been a burst of laughter or a pained cry. 'I could advise you on the best strategy, given my newly-obtained knowledge of the lieutenant's fighting style.'

'That-- that won't be necessary. I find my own strategy to be rather effective.'

'Very well. But I should warn you that the lieutenant tends to use rather... unorthodox fighting techniques. Please exercise caution when engaging with her.'

'Noted.'

'What I mean is, she does not seem to be familiar with the generally agreed combat etiquette--'

'I know what you mean.' The mattberries were no longer laughing, and Cassian was mentally prepared to step in between Marla and the droid. 'Please go and wait for me in my quarters.'

'Yes, Cassian.'

Watching the droid depart, Cassian realised he suddenly felt at least ten years older. He looked over at Marla, who was slowly reemerging from behind the cover of the frozen fruit.

'Tomorrow, eighteen hundred in the hangar bay.'

'Does the scrap heap have to be coming along?'

'Yes,' he shot her an annoyed look. 'Come on. Give him a chance.'

Marla groaned dramatically, 'I'll try. No promises, though.'

'Thank you. See you tomorrow.'

'Wait. What about that sparring session?'

Cassian snorted, stopping in his tracks to look back. She was still sitting on top of the table, half of her face red, and throwing him a mischievous grin.

Maker, give me strength.

'Can't have you too sore for tomorrow's mission.'

'I can take you,' she gave him an innocent shrug, and he had to turn away to make sure he didn't spontaneously combust into flames.

'Go to sleep, Marla. See you tomorrow.'

Cassian had no idea how he found the strength to walk away, considering in his mind he was already bending her over that damn table.

The mission. There's a mission. And it requires preparation.

'See you tomorrow,' he heard a quiet chuckle behind his back and decided it was his best chance to leave.

Maker, give me strength.

A/N: I am shamelessly excited about their upcoming mission. Can't wait to throw them into some drama.

[brunchable]

Can't Love You In The Dark (Part III) || Doctor Strange x F!Reader.

Word count: 8K Genre: Light Angst. Happy Ending. Warning: SHORT SEX SCENE. 18+ Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else

A/N:I finally finished this and finally getting it out of my WIPs. It was so hard to write this and idek cekjns. My mushy brain has done it's best.

SONGS TO LISTEN TO:

IF YOU WANT THAT KOREAN DRAMA FEEL, LISTEN TO THIS:

“Hi.” Stephen greeted you with kind eyes and a longing expression on his face.

“Hi, Stephen.” You greeted him back with a soft voice, your smile never fading. There was no bitterness or hard tones, your voice felt like the summer breeze on a warm spring day. The little boy stared at Stephen with his blue-green eyes and clung to your neck with his arms.

“It’s really nice to see you.” He chuckled and couldn’t take his eyes off your features, you looked the same but different.

“It’s really nice to see you too.” You smiled, dropping your gaze and looking back up at him, “How have you been, Stephen?” 

“I’ve been missing you so much, every single day.” 

You nodded and let out a nervous chuckle, “This is Finn, by the way.” 

Stephen turned his eyes towards the boy, "Nice to meet you, Finn.” 

In the back of his head, Stephen was doing the maths, he was searching for the probabilities that the child you were holding could be his. He had to be, Stephen could feel it in his veins. Stephen held up his finger, in which the child wrapped his little hands around, and Stephen shook it, “What a polite young man– I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah, I have been back for a week, I was planning to come and see you tomorrow, but it seems like the universe had the same plan.” You chuckled and pressed your lips together. 

Stephen nodded, "Yeah, that must be.” 

“Yo (Y/N)! I got food, let’s go.” Jean called out to you, holding a tray of hot food from outside of the rink. You turned your head and looked at Stephen.

“Coming!” You replied, “I’ll visit you in the Sanctum tomorrow, see you, Stephen.” You flashed Stephen another smile before turning to leave towards the other guy.

•••

2 years ago 

You arrived at a small cottage in Switzerland where you were lucky enough to be able to rent for a year from your friend. It was located in the small town of Engelberg near the mountains where you plan to work at a ski resort when winter arrives. For now, you will work in an old friend's bakery. You've always fantasised living a cottage life, with your own garden and crops, it's simple and therapeutic. 

It was a huge step down from being the Director of Orthopaedics back in Metro General Hospital back in New York. 

You started your new life by rearranging the furniture to your liking. Placing the photo frames you brought with you on the shelves. You were blasting your favourite music using your bluetooth speaker while you cleaned with the windows open; to allow the cool breeze to circulate around the home. The next door neighbours were at least one or two kilometres away from you, so loud music was the least of your worries. 

You hummed to Sam Smith's 'How do you sleep?' When the knock you've been expecting finally sounded through your door. You set the broom against the wall and found two of your old friends standing at the door.

Zara screamed as soon as you opened the door and almost tackled you on the floor, "I can't believe that you're here! We haven't seen you in person since our honeymoon in New York! I missed you!" 

Jean cleared his throat, "Hi (Y/N), welcome to Engelberg." He smiled warmly and joined the hug. 

Jean and Zara were exchange students you met in college and have been in contact with ever since. They were also invited to your wedding but because they had a business to run, they couldn't leave it behind. 

"I'm sorry for what happened– Ow!" Jean massaged his arm where Zara elbowed him pretty hard.

"We will not mention anything about that! She came here to heal." The pretty cherry blonde girl squeezed your arms. You chuckled and waved your hand dismissively.

"It's fine. It is what it is." 

Zara pressed her lips together, "Well, I hope you like my granny's old cottage. You didn't have to pay me, you know. If you decide to stay for another year, I will not accept your payment!"

You stifle a laugh, "Alright but I must give you back at least something and I love it here already, to be completely honest."

"Helping us in the bakery is enough, we're so popular in town we need all the help we could get!" Zara winked and crossed her arms proudly.

"That's because we’re the only bakers in town, sweetie." Jean grinned and earned another elbowing from his wife.

•••

1 and a half months later

You couldn't help but notice that despite your healthy diet, your weight increased a few kilos, you checked your tracker app to see if your cycle was soon and you noticed that it's late, very very late. You were too busy enjoying your time in your new environment that you've forgotten to check about it. 

You placed your hand over your lower abdomen and pressed on it gently. There wasn't any bump, so you tried to convince yourself that you're probably having some hormonal imbalance. 

"(Y/N)! I brought some snacks for our movie night!" Zara called out from the kitchen and you came out of the bathroom looking pretty dazed with a messy bun.

"You alright?" Zara asked while taking all the snacks out of a bag. 

"Yeah… there's just something weighing on my mind." You replied truthfully while you sat on the high chair, and laid your head against the table.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Zara asked, now busy putting your drinks into the fridge to cool.

"My period's late…" You sighed, "Like, very very late." 

Zara spun around slowly, "Okay… um, have you seen anyone since you've been here?" She asked, now leaning against the counter as well.

"No. Definitely not. I didn't come here to sleep around…" You sat up with a grimace and shook your head.

"Then do you remember when was the last time you…?" Zara trailed off since you already knew what she meant by that.

You and Stephen broke off the kiss and stared into each other's eyes breathing wildly. Stephen pressed your knees harder into your chest and started thrusting his hips towards you with all of his strength. You raised your pelvis and met each stroke, begging for every inch of him.

"Baby, I'm so close." Stephen moaned breathlessly and hung his head over your shoulders.

"Don't pull out." You demanded and reached for both sides of his hips to prevent him from pulling out and pushing him towards you with every thrust.

"Are you sure?" Stephen asked, beads of sweat appeared on his chiselled chest as he picked up the pace. 

"Mhm."

He began to move his rhythm more assertively, pulling almost all the way out on each stroke before crashing back into you. He drew nearly all the way out one more time and cried out as he plunged deep within you with one last, violent stroke. The sensation of him throbbing and releasing within you drove you to your breaking point, and you erupted into your own powerful rush while writhing under him. 

"Ohh noo," You covered your face, remembering the last time you and Stephen had sex, which was a few days before the wedding. You lightly banged your head on the table and Zara placed her palm below your forehead.

"Let's take a trip to the pharmacy! I'll grab you a coat!"

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

Three different brands of pregnancy tests lay face up on the bathroom counter covered with a paper towel to cover up the result. Ten minutes was up and you were dreading to see the results. Zara knocked on the bathroom door to check on you.

"What does it say?" She asked.

You cracked the door open for Zara, "Wanna check with me?" You asked, feeling anxious.

“I would love to!” Zara squealed and allowed herself to squeeze into the bathroom with you, “I take one and you take one, alright?” 

Both of you took one each of the tests while trying your best no to look at the results until after three, “One, Two, Three.” You counted and looked at the result.

Zara gasped and a smile grew on her face, “Oh my goodness, congratulations. You’re going to be–”

“A Mom.” You held the tests in front of you and swallowed the lump on your throat. This was real, this was all very, very real. Your eyes watered since you didn’t know whether to be happy or worried. It felt like up until now Stephen has got a hold of you and that was scaring you.

By the tone of your voice, Zara felt that you weren’t so happy about this and placed a hand over your shoulder, “(Y/N), I could only imagine how you would feel in this situation, but I think this is a gift, you used to never shut up about having a baby and now you got one." Zara tucked your hair behind your ear and gently placed her palm over your cheek, "Breathe, me and Jean got your back… and I think you need to make a few phone calls.” 

Zara passed you your phone and was referring to your parents. You took it hesitantly and stared at your Mother's phone number and pressed call. It rang a couple of times, before she finally picked up the phone.

"Hello, Rose speaking." Her voice sounds tired and sad, like she's been crying and you felt an overflowing amount of guilt because you knew that you were the reason.

"Hi, Mom." 

"(Y/N)?" She asked and you heard your father's voice in the background asking if he was really you.

"Yes. It's me."

You heard her release a sigh of relief, "I'm so glad to hear from you. Are you safe? Are you doing alright?"

Rose didn't want to scold you for running away and making them worried, she saw the hurt you were experiencing because of how much you loved Stephen. She was just happy you decided to contact them.

"I'm safe, I've got really great people looking after me… but I have something important I need to tell you, is dad there? Can you put me on speaker?" You asked.

"Yep, I'm here honey." You heard your father's voice, "What is it?"

"Um… first of all I'm sorry for making you both worry for me, I'm honestly doing great and I'm enjoying my time where I am… however, I've hit a bit of a speed bump." 

"Okay, well we're here if you need anything."

"I just found out that I'm pregnant." 

Rose chuckled while she exchanged looks with Jack, "W-What?"

"I'm having a baby… You're going to be grandparents." You repeated.

Rose placed her hand over her mouth and felt tears of joy welling on her eyes, the same as Jack, "O-oh my gosh… sweetheart, congratulations! How far along are you?"

"Not too far along, I literally just found out now." You glanced at Zara who smiled at you.

"W-well can we come and see you?" Rose asked, hoping you would allow them.

You paused to think for a second, "Yeah, of course… but please keep everything a secret for now, please?"

"No, of course. Anything you want sweetie. We won't tell anyone."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Present Day

You and Stephen sat opposite each other in his study in the awkward silence that followed the ‘hi’s and how are you’s’, the coffee table being the only thing that puts distance between the both of you. You couldn’t deny that his gaze pierced right through you and you found yourself clearing your throat nervously. 

“So… the reason I’m here.” You began, rubbing your arm to comfort yourself for having to now confront the father of your child.

“Yeah.” Stephen simply said with his deep sounding voice, the kind that anchors your soul.

“Um. After we broke it off and cancelled our marriage, I left for Switzerland,” You paused and Stephen nodded, since he was aware of that already, “After a month of trying to forget you, I wasn’t aware that I was not alone and after all that time… I was already carrying Finn.”

Stephen never said a word and kept nodding, he already knows what’s coming next. He knew all along that his hunch was correct, he is Finn’s father. Stephen was elated to find out that he has a son, especially with you. However, he couldn’t help but feel sad and disappointed that you waited until now to tell him.

“Finn, he’s your son.” You finally spat out and heard Stephen softly exhale a breath, and yet he didn’t say anything. 

Stephen’s pained smile twitched, “I figured. Black hair, blue eyes? Not to mention he looks exactly like me when I was his age. I just wish you could’ve put our differences aside and told me about him from the start.”

Even though he was calm, you could feel the bitterness in his voice. Stephen cleared his throat and stood up to gaze out the window, but all he was doing was hiding the fact that he was on the verge of crying for having to miss the birth of his first child, and probably all of his first milestones. He wanted to ask whether you did it as payback for his mistakes, but he chose not to, because that was unfair on you.

“I want you to be part of Finn’s life, Stephen.” You told him as you remained seated, “That’s if you want to.”

“Of course I want to. I’ve already missed what? One and a half years of his life? But being a part of his life means I need to be part of yours too. The real question is, are you okay with that?” Stephen slightly rotated his body to face you, with hands in his pocket and found a surprised expression in your eyes.

“Sorry I had to ask, because you kept him a secret until now. Did you think so little of me that you thought I wouldn’t want anything to do with him? Because I would trade everything I have to be present at the moment he was born, with you, but you—” took that away from me. Stephen sighed and stopped himself before he got carried away by his emotions and says something he might regret after.

“I was heartbroken Stephen, I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to get over you; that the scars would open up when I see you or hear your voice—everything here reminded me of you that’s why I left—”

“And how did running go for you?” He was quick to cut you off, “Hm?”

Tell her everything, be vulnerable towards her. The advice that Jack gave him two years ago echoed in Stephen’s mind.

You didn't know what to say, because when you were in Switzerland, you only learnt to forgive him, not stop loving him but you were oblivious to that and confused your forgiveness as getting 'over' him. He has every right to feel this way for missing the first year of his son. There were many times you attempted to call him but you didn't have the guts, your own pride and your own fear held you back because he will be part of your life permanently once you tell him about Finn.

Stephen sighed when he didn’t hear an answer from you and also disappointed at himself for holding himself back for being vulnerable towards you, again. 

"Can I see him?" Stephen asked instead.

"Of course. We're staying at my parent's house. Come with me." You snapped your head up at his question and invited him over at your parents, where Jean and Zara are also staying.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You and Stephen walked through the portal and got surprised stares from everyone that was in the living room. Jean, who is a big fan of Stephen, dropped his jaw and knocked over the jenga tower, making Finn giggle. 

"Stephen!" Jack, who was playing with Finn on the floor, got up and gave Stephen a hug, "Long time no see. We're so glad to see you." 

Stephen returned a smile towards Jack and patted the older man's back, "Likewise, Jack."

"Can you guys give us a moment please?" You asked everyone and kindly obliged and headed into the kitchen all at the same time. Zara, who was now also pregnant, smiled at you and squeezed your hand as she walked past.

You led Stephen to Finn who was playing on the floor with blocks, you carefully sat on the floor with him and Finn smiled at you, "Mommy!" 

"Yes, hi honey." You greeted him, an instant bright smile appearing in your face. Stephen sat next to you with crossed legs feeling nervous about how Finn is going to react, "There's someone who wants to meet you. Someone who's very important, so~ can we stop playing with blocks for a few minutes please?" You gently asked Finn who obediently put the blocks down, shyly glancing at Stephen from time to time.

Finn stood up on his feet and went to you for a hug, his fingers in his mouth as you gently rotated him around to face Stephen, "This man," You patted down Finn's pointed hairs and rubbed his back for comfort and encouragement, "His name is Stephen and he's your Dad, do you want to say hi?" 

Finn hummed and nodded, his body swaying while staring at the man who looked exactly just like him. To a little toddler like himself, Stephen looked big and intimidating, especially when he wasn't smiling, "Daddy?" Finn asked and pointed at Stephen.

You nodded and Stephen broke into a smile and nodded, "Yeah, bud. It's Daddy."

"Say hi, do you want to give him a hug?" Finn kept swaying his little body while nodding but hesitated to go towards Stephen. 

You noticed Stephen’s closed off body language and mouthed to him to open his arms towards the boy.  Open your arms.

Stephen opened his arms towards Finn and smiled at him, "Look, he also wants a hug, go give him the Finn bear hug." You pointed at Stephen and encouraged the boy to go to him. The boy started to walk and when Stephen folded his fingers to beckon him, Finn ran and crashed into Stephen's chest, his little arms too small to go around so he clung onto Stephen's shirt instead. 

Stephen folded his protective arms around his son, and his big hands held the back of Finn's head in place as Stephen hung his head down the child's little shoulders, getting a whiff of his scent which had a hint of you. At that moment his heart felt so full of love that he didn't know he had and this fuzzy feeling of his son being in his arms made him tear-up. Stephen kissed the side of Finn’s head and squeezed him gently.

You smiled and wiped your own tears before they fell. You felt genuinely happy for Stephen after finally meeting his boy, you always had this image of him in your mind towards your children.

Finn could hear his father sniffling and looked up at the man, reaching for his face and wiping his tears, "Daddy sad?" 

Stephen smiled at the boy's perceptiveness and shook his head, "No. I'm happy." He looked at you, "Extremely happy."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Stephen watched by the doorway as you tuck your son carefully to sleep, whispering 'I love you' into his ear before planting a soft kiss on his forehead. He appeared pensive as he stared at you, he thought being a mother suited you very well and he imagined having a moment just like this with you, but he never imagined it as both of you being separated.

But, This. This is what he wanted, he felt complete by finally having you and Finn around. Stephen had plenty of time practising what he was going to say in case you came back but now that you're here, his mind goes blank. 

"He's out like a light, I think he's still getting used to the time difference." You stood up straight, glancing at Stephen, noticing the way he was looking at you filled with unspoken emotions, like he already has the whole world in front of him. You quickly snapped your head away from him, refusing to take on the effect that was washing over you.

"Stop looking at me with eyes like that." Says you while you unconsciously bite your bottom lip, looking down.

"Like what?" 

You shrug, he was getting you to look at him again and you felt him shift his position by the door, "I-I don't know." 

You couldn't find the words because the way he was looking at you, it just made you feel. He was trouble. You're in trouble. You knew the second you indulge yourself with his presence you'd be wanting to chase that rush. You still want him—no, you never stopped loving him.

"Should I put the words into your mouth?" He asks, he sounded really keen on describing it.

"You'd better be going, Stephen. It's late." You say, trying to dig your way out of this. You walked past Stephen into the upstairs hallway since the conversation might wake up the kid. Stephen closed the door behind him and spun around to face you. It would be worse to lead Stephen on, especially when you don't plan on staying in New York. You've adjusted quite well in your new life and were able to convert your Doctor's licence to Switzerland. 

He sighed, "Right, OK then." He sounded a bit sad, he really seemed to want to stay a bit longer, "I wanted to ask you something, sorry but I overheard your little chat with Rose. Are you really not here to stay for good? Why?"

"You heard that…" you muttered and trailed off, Stephen seemed to be regarding you intently, with the same pensive look which never left his features, "And I said please, stop looking at me…"

"... with eyes like that." finishes Stephen and adds, "You don't have to tell me if you don't

want to."

"No, no. I've been meaning to tell you, I was just finding the right timing." You say briskly. It occured to you, at this moment, that you will very likely not see Stephen again. And by seeing him, you meant forcing yourself to close your heart on the idea of getting back together with him. You pretty much were already implying that you had no interest in getting back with him since you're choosing to live somewhere far away, "But you can always easily see Finn, right? You got that magic portal."

You look at Stephen, half expecting him to laugh or shake his head, but he just smiles at you, that artless luminous smile which makes him unexpectedly appealing; he seems so radiant that you had to stop yourself leaning unthinkingly forward, as though you might stretch out and warm yourself on him. Apart from taking your arm on occasion when you guided him, he has never touched you, never even tried to hold your hand, but now he leans forward himself, and places his warm palm over your upturned forearm.

"I can't say I'm happy to hear that and I'm not really in a position to stop you but…" he says, brushing the skin on your wrist very gently with his thumb, "I really wish you'd stay, (Y/N). Because it's different when you're here. I wish you knew how much it destroyed me when you left. Every day without seeing you feels like living a lifetime without happiness. I miss you. Stay." 

You're taken aback by the sudden intimacy of his touch, and something unidentifiable rushes through your chest as he makes the gesture. You were forced to take a deep breath as Stephen hovered over you, his body near enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from it. You couldn't turn away from the pleas he was making with his eyes; they were like a magnet, particularly as his fingers closed in on yours, and you felt yourself being swallowed whole by him. Your chest tightened, and a blush of heat spread over your face as a result of your clenched heart.

"I can't imagine myself in love with someone else, I really can’t and I wish I could elaborate the depths of what I feel but you already know I'm not good at communicating it." He says and yet there you were in front of him, battling the impulse to kiss the man and simply reassure him that everything is going to be okay. You were tempted to give in, but at the same time, you wanted to put your own needs first for a change.

"I'm happy with where I am now, Stephen." You told him the truth, but he didn't respond; he just attempted to gaze deeper into your eyes, maybe searching for a trace of self-deception. As he couldn't find it, he just removed his hands from yours, and you nearly felt yourself wince when his fingers left yours. You are happy, but that does not mean that your love for him has dwindled in any way.

"Okay." He spoke gently, his voice was nearly as soft as the touch that had just left you. There was an awkward pause followed by complete silence. In Stephen’s point of view, it just dawned on him that you've probably moved on from him because you haven't responded to him at all, each time the subject was about between you and him, you change the subject or give a vague reply. 

Stephen cleared his throat, "It's really over for you isn't it? You're going to ask me to do the impossible and move on from you… aren't you?" Sniffling and chuckling in unison, he turned away from you, brushing away the tears that had slid into his inner eyes while he chewed on his bottom lip to keep them from spilling.

"S-Stephen…I–" 

"Aren't you?" 

You were stunned by the unexpected rawness in his emotions, a side you've never seen before, and it left your mouth drained of words. This man was desperate not to lose you for the second time around. Even if your head was in a total state of disarray, your body looked to be in a placid posture.

"I understand that even if I say sorry, it will not change anything. (Y/N), I regret nothing more in my life than what I have done to you, and if you can’t forgive me that’s justifiable. I was wrong, foolish, and immature, and you do not deserve the pain and grief I have caused you, but it pains my heart to think of a life without being able to see your face, speak to you, to hold you, to kiss you…" 

Those eyes stared at you with the greatest sincerity, his bottom lip quivered as he spoke, his voice was a touch gravelly owing to the thickness inside of his oesophagus, and his shoulders sank in resignation. Tears had filled your vision, making it difficult to see clearly. You could feel the barriers you created swaying, but your fear held them in place.

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago Stephen, but it’s the aftermath of it all… it’s left me in fear that I will lose myself if I ever love again, because when I did; loving you, pleasing you was all I knew, I gave my everything to you, and ripped myself bare and in exchange of that I lost myself… and I’m not blaming you now, because that was my choice.” You gently cupped Stephen’s cheek and wiped off the torrents of tears that ran down his cheek, “And in Finn, I discovered myself again, he was the greatest gift you’ve ever given me. All I want is to focus on being a mother to our child, I hope you understand.”

Stephen leaned into your touch, closing his eyes to savour this moment and nodded even though he wanted to keep convincing you to stay. He knew that once you've set your mind on things, it's hard for anyone to change it. All he could do now is endure the pain of your decision, "I understand, I want you to be happy, and I'm glad you are because you deserve to be."

"Thank you Stephen." You smiled gently, lifting yourself up into a tip-toe and leaving a soft peck on his cheek.

This is the moment when Stephen surprises you by leaning forwards and kissing your lips. This kiss is so delicate that you can hardly feel the warmth of his lips, and you didn’t even try to object. His lips drew back gently as swiftly as they had found yours. 

"If you want me to stop, tell me now," he whispered. He stared intently into your eyes and waited for any kind of resistance from you, but you didn't give him the slightest indication that you were going to fight back at all. Now that you're thinking about the kiss, you realise that the distance between your lips is just a few millimetres. You take a deep breath as you stare into his eyes, and when you don't say anything, he tilts his head and this time, it was you who landed a kiss on his lips.

The second kiss he gave you was just as tender as the first, and it made you feel warm all over as your lips melted together and your eyes closed in enchantment. You could feel the two years he longed for you through his kiss. You feel your top lip being snatched into his mouth by the latching of his lips on your lips as they roll back and forth. Your eyes widen in shock, but just as swiftly as it occurred, he releases your upper lip, and then he does the same thing to your lower lip. With each kiss, your top lip is pulled in, then let free, and your knees start to fold, at the same time, your eyes start to shut allowing yourself to spiral down this bliss. 

You just manage to crack your lips open for a split second, yet in that time you feel his tongue pass through your mouth. Tingles run through your body as you lock lips and dance with your tongues. You can feel the blood pumping through your body as your chest tightens and your breath becomes shallow. Your body automatically gives in and you reach out to grab his side for support as your hand rests there. As the soft kisses evolve into more intense ones in time with the rhythm of your breathing, you begin to tremble and feel as if you could faint as a result. You are experiencing a rush of adrenaline, and you can feel your heart thumping in your chest as if it were competing in a race.

You reached out with your hands and found Stephen's chest, at which point you gently redirected his kissing away from you in an effort to prevent it from developing into anything more. Your lips are slightly ajar while the rest of your body heaves a small sigh and draws in a deep breath of air. 

“Let’s stop here.” You said, still catching your breath, “It’s late.” 

“Yeah, it is…” Stephen agreed, pressing his lips together, a portal opening straight into his bedroom and steps aside from you, walking into it, “I’ll see you tomorrow, my parents are excited to meet Finn.” He said looking back, the portal disappearing in a flash. 

You brushed your hair back with your fingers, the full weight of his kiss now sinking into you, “What were you thinking?” 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Three days later.

"Are you guys ready to go?" Jack asked as he entered back inside after heating the car up outside, "Oh let me help you, honey." 

Your father hurried over to you and assisted you in bringing your belongings down the stairs. Given that you choose to remain in New York for a few more days, Jean and Zara returned to Switzerland two days before you did. Because yesterday had been such a long day spent with you and Stephen, Finn was still sound asleep and exhausted when Rose held him in her arms.

Since you had a few remaining days left, you decided to let Finn and Stephen have more time with each other and hang out, Stephen insisted that you stay with them on the last day, his reason was he wanted to give Finn a memory where both his parents were together, playing with him outdoors in the snow, going sledding, building a snowman, having snowball fights and making snow angels. Stephen, who may be described as old-fashoined, went out and purchased a disposable camera so that he could take pictures that would be preserved forever. Stephen has assured you that he would provide you with copies, but it seems that he will not be able to do so before you depart for Switzerland.

The car ride on the way to the airport was quiet and sad because it felt good to be home, to see your family and friends. You couldn’t help but think about that kiss you had with Stephen the night he showed you how vulnerable he was when it comes to you. That kiss felt like it was the last time he would ever do that, it felt like pure acceptance of the fact that he was going to lose you, although he does not want to. And it grew to sting you in the end when he decided to put your needs above him, he truly has changed. 

You glance over at Finn, who was still fast sleeping, and you can't help but notice how much he resembles Stephen. There is not the slightest indication of your facial characteristics. You speculated that he would inherit several of your qualities and hoped that it would be the positive ones.

Your parents remained with you until you collected your boarding passes and were ready to go through security screening. You turn around to look at Jack and Rose again and wave at them as you are ascending the steps. Even though he was attached to you, Finn gazed up at his grandparents and waved to them too. It's certainly one of the benefits of having Strange's DNA because he was highly perceptive for a child who was only one and a half years old.

"Bye-bye poppa, bye-bye nana~" he mumbles and giggles when Rose sends him tons of flying kisses from upstairs until the both of you disappear out of sight to go through security.

Rose sighed and wiped a tear away watching you and her grandson say goodbye, "I really thought that kiss would change her mind." She shook her head and Jack furrowed his brows, confused as to what his wife was talking about.

"What are you talking about?" 

"I woke up to go get a drink downstairs and I walked in on Stephen kissing your daughter, so I quietly backed away." She explained to Jack, who was so confused that night as to why Rose was so insistent with him staying in their room that night, finally knowing the reason why.

"Oh… is that why you came back too quickly?" He asked and Rose nodded, "Maybe they just need another baby–ow!"

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

While you wait for your aircraft to be boarded, you remove Finn from his carrier and grab a seat in one of the empty seats near your gate. Finn remained by your side the whole time, occupying himself quietly with his favourite stuffed animal and nibbling on the chopped fruits you had purchased for him when you offered it to him. In an effort to communicate that he did not want any more, Finn started shaking his hand and pushing your hand away.

"No more?" You asked and he shook his head, "Alright, but you gotta drink water." You pulled out his bottle and gave it to him, instead he tried reaching for the backpack while opening and closing his little hands.

As you switched your focus to your bag, positioning it between you and him where Finn grabbed it and accidently dumped the bag onto the floor, you let out a faint gasp as the contents of the bag poured out into the floor.

"Uh-oh." his little voice peeped. 

"Aw Finn.." you sighed and muttered quietly as you got off of your seat to pick up his stuff. 

"Sorry Mommy." Finn pouted and sat back down. 

"It's okay baby. Use your words next time if you want something from the bag okay?" 

"Pictures!" Finn beamed, bouncing his body while staying seated, "Pictures!"

"You want to take pictures?" You asked in an attempt to clarify what he wants.

Finn shook his head and playfully glared at you with a pout, "No. Daddy pictures!" 

"What?—" You suddenly jerked your head back and saw a rectangular envelope that you hadn't seen before. When you picked it up, you realised that it contained the photographs that Stephen had taken that had been developed.

You went through the images one by one and saw that most of them portrayed Finn having a good time in the snow by giggling, laughing, and bouncing about. You couldn't help but grin as you looked at the picture you had taken of Finn and Stephen creating a snowman together, as well as the one you had taken of Stephen holding Finn to his body while sitting in the snow with a huge grin on his face and looking at his kid.

You flicked the picture over to the last one and saw how happy Finn appeared to be in it. You looked at your son with teary eyes and asked, "How did you know these were in here?"

Finn looked at you and placed his little index finger in front of his mouth, as if telling you to keep quiet.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Stephen stared out of the large sanctum window, watching every plane that flies across the sky, wondering if you and Finn were in it. He flicked through the photos that he took, and his copy mostly consisted of you and Finn, he stared at each one of the photos, searing it into his eidetic memory. Even though you told him to come and see Finn anytime he wants, it still didn't feel right for him to just appear whenever he wanted, especially now that you've built a wall against him. 

Stephen sneaked into your bedroom the night before your flight, and Finn woke up next to you, sensing his father's presence. He awoke, blinking his eyes, to watch his father carefully insert an envelope inside the backpack. Stephen noticed that Finn had woken up and put his index finger in front of his mouth, trying to convince Finn to be quiet. Stephen lowered himself to a kneeling position next to Finn's bed and uttered the reason he had come.

"I love you, son. Be good to your mom." Stephen quietly whispered to not wake you up and kissed his son on the crown of his head, "Go back to sleep." 

Stephen heaved a sigh as he looked at the picture of the three of you together and ran his fingers down the surface of the photo. He wanted to relive the happiness he had during that moment.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Would all passengers travelling to Zurich on flight LX3421 please have your boarding passes and passports ready for boarding. Flight LX3421 is now boarding at gate 81.” The staff announced through the PA. 

You collected all of your belongings, and after that, you fastened Finn back onto your body in a secure position. You made sure to have your passports and boarding passes on hand before getting in line for the priority queue. You were so preoccupied with the rapid beating of your heart and the sensation that anxiety was rising up inside of you that you failed to see that you had moved to the head of the queue.

“Ma’am, your boarding pass and passport please?” The man asked you, waving his hand in front of your face to bring you back. You handed over your documents, in which he scanned, “Here’s your passports back, you can head on through.” 

You smiled at the guy, collected your bags, and started walking towards the bridge that headed towards the aircraft. Your thoughts started to drift towards Stephen, and you could almost make out the sound of his voice crystal clear in your head.

“I miss you. Stay.” 

You reached the middle of the bridge and then turned around to look behind you. When you moved to the side and simply stood there, people you didn't know gave you weird stares as they went by. You glanced at the only photograph that you had kept in your hands, and it was at that moment that the realisation dawned on you that you didn't want to miss Stephen anymore. You spun on your heels and departed the bridge, strolling past the workers who were perplexed as to why you had returned out of the overpass. You chose to ignore their calls and instead hurriedly made your way out of the terminal  while simultaneously contacting your parents.

“C’mon, pick up, Dad.” As you retraced your steps from the direction you had come, you murmured to yourself. 

“Hello?” Rose picked up the phone for Jack.

“Mom! Are you still near the airport?” 

“Yeah, I think so. Why?” 

“Can you turn around please? I’ll wait for you in the pick up area.” You pleaded as you approached customer service to get assistance on going back outside. 

“Jack made a u-turn and go back to the airport, right now.” Rose ordered, to which Jack responded with a perplexed expression, but he nonetheless obliged without question and did a speedy U-turn when they reached the next intersection.

“Can you tell me what is going on?” Jack questioned as he experienced the want to rush due to the manner in which Rose was behaving all fidgety.

“(Y/N) will be waiting for us at the passenger pick-up.” 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Stephen sighed for the hundredth time in one day while placing a now framed photo of the three of you near his bedside, where he could wake up and see it every morning. The photograph depicted both of you planting a sweet kiss on Finn's face as the little boy smiled broadly and flashed his two front teeth. After getting cleaned up in the shower, he changed into considerably warmer attire. America encouraged that they spend their time together outdoors so as to divert his attention away from the sad thoughts that he was having. He was fixing his scarf when he saw a glimpse of your figure over his shoulder through the reflection of the mirror. He abruptly turned around to check if he was hallucinating at the extent of his longing for you and was relieved to see that you were really there, he was worried for a second that he could have been losing his mind.

You raised the photo in your hand, the same one that he has on his bedside, "Do you mean it? Everything you said to me that night?" You asked him, both of you still rooted to where you're standing. 

When Stephen found that you were really standing in front of him and not on your way to Switzerland, his eyes glistened and a thin film of tears delicately brimmed the edges of his eyes, "With every fibre of my being." 

"Then that's good enough for me." You charged towards Stephen who prepared to hold you as you reached up and pulled him down to you, and the rest of the words he tried to say were lost against your lips. He kissed you softly and tenderly, but it wasn't gentleness that you want, not now, not after all this time, and you twisted your hands into his scarf, tugging him even closer to you. He emitted a muffled groan from deep inside his throat, and then his arms encircled you and gathered you against him. Veins throbbing, hearts exploding. You feel him—the entirety of him—pressed against you, and you inhale his shaving cream, his shampoo, and that extra scent that’s just… him. The most mouthwatering aroma you could ever hope to encounter. His lips taste like honey. His face has the barest hint of stubble, and while it scrapes against your skin, you don't care in the least—you didn't care at all. He feels incredible.

"I still love you too, Stephen." You pull away in a gasp, your heads still pressed together and you hear Stephen chuckle against your lips.

“Yeah, I feel that—but I must say I love you more.” Stephen said in a low voice, unable to suppress the smile that was brought by how happy he was feeling, “So what now?”

You drew your head back and stared at him with a massive smile on your face, “Well, you’re now going to be stuck with me and a mini version of you. And I’m stuck with you and a kid who loves her pizza.”

“Sounds perfect.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

Epilogue  - Summer time.

"So how was your day?" Stephen knelt down, draping a towel over his son's small figure, drying him off before he sent him to grab some lunch.

"Good!" 

"Did you enjoy swimming?”

"Swimming~" Finn repeated the words, beaming excitedly at his father, pointing again at the lake.

"There, all dry!" He pulled the towel off Finn’s head and ruffled it.

"All dwry!!"

"Can you say, love you?" Stephen asked.

"Wove you!"

"Can you say, love you dad!"?

"Wove you Dad!!" Finn stretched his arms really wide, causing Stephen to chuckle at his son’s cute antics.

"Oh that much? You're going to make Mom jealous, can I have a hug?" Stephen spreads his arms and Finn skips towards him and gives him a quick hug. He squeezed the boy, lifting him up and twirling him into the air before placing him back down on the ground, “Alright go ask America for some hotdogs.”

Stephen approached you as you sat by yourself at the end of the dock, swirling your feet into the clear and slightly cold water. You felt Stephen’s presence and looked up to smile at him as he took the spot beside you.

“Not wanting to brag but Finn loves me from his left arm to his right, you know how many bones that is?” Stephen leaned back against his hand.

“Are you really asking me? An Orthopaedics Director?” 

“Seventy-six, including his head.” Stephen ignored your question and you threw your head back laughing at him.

“You’re such a nerd. Do you know how many bones I have?” You countered him with a trick question and Stephen scoffed.

“What kind of question is that? Of course you have 206 bones.” 

You frowned and shook your head, “No… I have 506 at the moment.” You casually said, looking at the view from straight ahead and gave him a side-eye thinking whether he would understand what you were trying to say.

Stephen scoffed out a laugh, “That’s impo— wait a minute…” his smile disappears.

You just continued looking out into the distance towards the horizon rather than engaging in conversation with him. You caught a glimpse of Stephen sitting up and narrowing his eyes as he looked at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Are we having another baby?” Stephen asked, sounding very hopeful but you didn’t respond to him, “(Y/N) I swear—you’d better stop joking because I—”

“I’m not joking.” You turned your head to face him, looking a bit more serious this time. Stephen froze to stare at you for a second before pulling you into a hug, “Are you happy?”

“Happy? Are you kidding me? That’s an understatement, I’m over the moon. I hope we have a girl this time.” Stephen smiled, kissing the side of your head, “I love you. I’m so lucky to have you as a mother to my children.” 

“I love you too, but three is enough. America and Finn together are already a handful.”

“I’m good with that. Three’s a magic number.”

TAGS: @simp4fictional @praetorrara @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @elicheel @vintageroses10 @sherlux @graniairish @lucywrites02 @stanny-uwu @frostandflamesfanfic @jamiethenerdymonster@zdhunn @captaincarmel164 @justsomecreaturewandering @soiopathicdetectivekid @fan-of-fic @gaitwae @shit-post-things @seasonofthenerd @patbrdac @evelynrosestuff @singhfae @severuined @mischiefmanaged71 @farfromjustordinary @ironstrange1991 @spideyyhoe @lovecleastrange @mando-is-the-way @peachypie97 @ghost-lantern @sleutherclaw @the-mouse27 @zelspktr @bobateadaydreams @junkertown-princess @apple-and-berry@ohchoices @faithinhome @mochuchi @the-royal-petals @goldencherriess @lykaonimagines @sigyncevans @sherlocksgirl91 @strangeobsessed @romanvffa @strangefilms @marcelin3 @ohholyaphrodite @sierlock @erenluvsrini @chinjk @hobimysolecito @cumberdaddys @lokislov3

[strangunddurm]

Shower

Masterlist

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x femme!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, age gap, degradation(?), swearing, dirty talk.

WOW! Uni has been kicking my butt lol (as it always does the first month of term) but I'll probs lose all motivation soon and start writing more.

There was just something about showers that got your pulse racing. Perhaps it was an ironic version of Pavlov's dogs and you had conditioned yourself so that a wetness grew between your legs whenever your foot stepped into the shower.

Living in a household with multiple, extroverted people ensured that you were never left alone for long except for when you showered. Therefore, it was easy for it all to become a small routine. An orgasm in between rinsing and lathering your body with soap.

Routines are there for a reason. They are there for structure and organisation, they weren't meant to be broken so could you really be blamed for adhering to this routine of yours despite having guests over? After all, it was your own house and a very private moment, how could you have known that he would step into the bathroom just as you let out a quiet moan.

Now, "forgetting" to lock the door that was on you, but him staying after having heard that was out of your control. He would later go on to blaming it on you, you seduced him. Which wasn't far from the truth, but you liked to think of it more as a... coincidence. You happened to fantasise about him, you happened to lay on the charm just a little bit extra whenever he was around, and it all just happened. A happy coincidence, not that either of you would complain in the end.

Having friends over was your parents' speciality. They loved to entertain people, a trait which you hadn't exactly inherited. You tolerated all the guests but you wouldn't describe any of them as interesting, unfortunately. They were all very bland, all of them except Flip.

Now, Flip was different. He was younger, still closer to your parents' age than yours, but you were able to have a conversation with him without feeling like a child, which was rare. You weren't a child, of course. Puberty had come and went and time had even sped by so quickly that you had somehow graduated from college already, which was as surprising to you as it seemed everyone else. It wasn't that you weren't intelligent or of college material, it was that your parents and by extension, all of their friends, still saw you as this sweet young thing that barely knew how to count to ten.

Maybe it was that which made you feel slightly rebellious as of late; that incessant need to break the mould and finally be seen as a grown-up.

The announcement that Flip would be staying the weekend on his way home from some out-of-state police conference sent tingles down your spine and made a heat spread throughout your body in waves.

You had always had a thing for Flip. He became friends with your parents right around that time when your obsession with boys started to tip over towards a deep yearning for men. And Flip was all man. A tall, hulking, mountain of a man that swore more than necessary and smoked cigarettes in a way that made panties drop from just a look.

Your parents were oblivious to it all. Thinking nothing of the fact that all of a sudden, you were happy to help with anything and everything, as long as Flip was in the same room.

Flip was significantly less oblivious when compared to your parents, thankfully. And even if he had been, you made your interest in him abundantly clear when you cornered him in the laundry room the summer you had turned 18.

Flip, ever the gentleman, had politely pushed you away from him, letting you down gently with the excuse that you were far too young and that boys your own age were "probably be a better fit".

But here you were, on the north side of 20 with your fingers stuffed deep within you as the water trailed down your body in small rivers, still fantasising about Flip.

Your other hand was massaging your tit softly, letting your nipple roll between your fingertips before giving it a rough pull. Your breath was growing heavy as your pleasure intensified, your climax steady approaching.

You were an expert when it came to your own body, an expected result of having been in similar positions many times before. You knew just how to tug, pull, and thrust to reach your peak quicker than any other person had before.

You pretended not to hear the door being pushed open ever so slowly. The floor creaks slightly as he takes a step inside the bathroom. You wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so hyper-aware of him in anticipation of his hopeful arrival.

Things had been different from the get-go this time around. His hands had groped at you dangerously low when you had flung your arms around him in greeting. He hadn't pushed you away when you preened closer to him in the small kitchen. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention you were paying him this time around. His eyes would linger just a tad bit longer than what was deemed appropriate when you bounced by, top having been pulled just a little lower than usual to give him a glimpse of what was hiding below.

You could feel his eyes linger on you now through the small gap between the shower curtain and the wall. His gaze left behind a burn on your skin that made your entire body heat up with want. You avoided looking his way, pretending to be oblivious to his presence; instead, continuing with your motions.

You let out quiet whimpers as your hand moved in between your thighs, foot propped up on the edge of the tub to grant yourself better access. Two fingers eased in and out of your heat, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip in a half-assed attempt to keep your small mewls of pleasure in.

Hips rocked against the palm of your hand, seeking to give your swollen clit just a bit more friction to get you over the edge.

But Flip was selfish. He didn't let you finish yourself off before he decided to sharply yank the shower curtain to the side, exposing your entire body to him. There was no need for him to be stealthy about it when it came to you, after all. Both of you knew just how much you wanted him.

Neither of you said anything. You withdrew your hand from your heat, fingers glistening with your slick and brought them to your lips whilst you stared into his eyes. Your tongue darted out between your lips, licking a slow trail along them, making sure he heard the moan you let out as you tasted yourself.

You couldn't help the smile that grew on your lips as you watched his eyes become more and more hooded, you let a finger rest against your lips, showing him to hush. It was a reminder; being a part of a family of nosy extroverts meant, with no doubt, that they would investigate if they heard something suspicious.

You took half a step closer to him and could feel his bulge press up against you. The hardness of it in combination with the roughness of his jeans was almost enough to bring you to your knees in excitement. You were ready for him. Flip in jeans was a sight for sore eyes. The way they stretched over his thick thighs, straining over the muscles, was honestly pornographic.

Flip was forced to duck down slightly as your arm looped around his neck and you stood on your tippy-toes. You brought your lips to his ear, letting them graze his skin as you whispered quietly;

"Do you like watching me, Flip?"

The gulp he took was audible, but other than that, he didn't show any other signs of nervousness. The hands which had been hanging by his side came forward to grasp at your skin, letting them drag down to your ass, groping it, massaging it roughly as he pulled you closer to him.

"Love it" He answered with a kiss on your neck.

The shower was still on, water steadily pouring from the nozzle onto the two of you, soaking his clothes. There wasn't time to exchange sweet kisses, the carnal need inside the both of you burning far too bright to leave room for anything romantic.

Flip withdrew from you just enough to tug at the leather of his belt and the fastening of his jeans at the same time as your hands were moving frantically attempting to help him undress.

His briefs were shoved down at the same time as his jeans. Only one of his socks were pulled off as he stepped out of his jeans, but there was no time to pause and take off the other.

One of his hands came down to wrap around his thick shaft, fisting over it as he watched you. You were transfixed on the reddened tip that was steadily leaking precum.

"Fuck," you breathed out, skin hot as you were stunned by the sight of him. He was a sight for sore eyes the way he was bucking into his hand, cock twitching.

You couldn't decide what you wanted more, what you wanted first; his cock down your throat? or, shoved as deep as it could go in your pussy?

Flip, thankfully, made the decision for you. He stepped into the shower, fully coming under the spray of water and pressing you up against the wall with his arms caging you in. His cock was fully pressed into your stomach as his lips were pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

"I'm gonna eat that pretty pussy until you can't see, tonight, but right now, you're going to turn around and take me, and I don't want to hear a single sound from you." He muttered darkly. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, words dying in your throat.

"Good girl," A praise had never sounded so good. "Now turn around."

He was grabby with you, pushing and pulling at you until he got you in the position he wanted; cheek pushed against the cold tile, ass out with cheeks spread wide so that he could admire you.

"Look at you, I love you like this." He revealed, unabashed. It was hard not making at least a sound as a reply; borderline torture, in fact.

His hand caressed your ass, kneading it with a big paw before using the other to grasp at the base of his shaft, guiding it as it slid through your wetness, making sure to get it well and truly coated in preparation.

Your legs twitched as you felt him glide over your strained clit. You wiggled back, needing just a little more friction.

"Don't tease me, Flip." That earned you a slap to your ass. It wasn't a hard slap, but it was enough to get the message across again; don't make a sound.

"Do you want to get caught?" The both of you knew your answer to that question; not right now, at least.

Flip finally let the swollen head slip through your soaked folds one more time, letting it come to a stop at your entrance before easing in. He couldn't help the moan that slipped out as he felt your walls stretch around him. He had to lean back so he could watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again in deep thrusts. You had to slap your hand over your mouth to stop one of your own from slipping out.

"Fucking tight-" he grunted as he rolled his hips into you. He was slow in his movements, taking his time as he rocked in and out.

He leaned over you, chest pressed into your back so that he could whisper a demand in your ear again;

"You're going to cum around my cock and then you're going to thank me." Flip jutted roughly into you once and you jolted forward slightly despite the hand that was rested on the wall to steady you.

He was so deep, tip brushing against your cervix with every languid thrust. As nice as it was, you craved more, needed it.

You tightened your walls around him, hoping to entice him to move just a little quicker. And thankfully, Flip was feeling merciful that day.

He leaned back and quickened his thrusts just enough to feed the hunger and make you draw closer and closer to the ever-impending orgasm that lulled within you.

"You take me so well" Flip breathed out with a groan. He was going so deep that it was like you could feel him in your throat. And just when you thought it couldn't possibly feel any better, he urged you with a hand to return your foot to the edge of the tub, the change in angle letting him fuck right into that sweet, spongy spot of yours.

He let out a low, delighted laugh as your walls clenched around him, drawing him in even deeper. "You like that?" Another sharp pump into you, his balls swinging, hitting your ass with a smack. Flip had given up on trying to take it slow, he couldn't care less whether they were caught, too caught up in the feeling of you.

He was pressing you even harder against the cold tiles, water splashing down around you both as he drove into you.

"Make a mess on my cock" Flip commanded. "Squeezing me so. fucking. tight." His grip on your hips was so hard you would surely be sore there tomorrow.

"Want me to fill this pussy up, don't you?" God, yes.

It didn't take long for you to fall apart around him. Your orgasm hit you fast and hard, and you were sure that, for a moment, you almost passed out from the overwhelming pleasure. The loud and deep moan that ripped from your chest was quickly muffled by Flip's large hand as his hips came to a halt, pressed up tightly against you.

He chuckled quietly in your ear whilst prompting you to stand up straight and lean back against his chest. Your eyes locked together and the smile he aimed down at you was obviously devious in nature, a wild glint shimmering in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful." You would've basked in the admiration if you had been more lucid. "You okay?"

All you could do was nod with a lazy smile. Flip started pumping his hips into you again, taking it slowly. He continued holding you up; one hand on your hip, the other on your breast, rolling your nipple softly between his fingertips. He gave it a light flick before letting it travel up your chest and wrapping around your neck, applying just enough pressure to send a jolt of pleasure down from his hand, all the way to your pussy. In and out, in and out.

"Such a good girl." Your chest was heaving heavily with each breath, eyes glossy. It was beginning to be too much for you, the pressure building up in your lower stomach again, and you weren't sure you could take it anymore, hips bucking under his touch.

"Flip-" you mewl, the rest getting lost in babbles as he picked up the pace again and began pounding into you.

"C'mon, you can take it, there you go" Flip thought you looked so pretty just like that, your face contorted with pleasure as he split you open. "So good for me."

Flip finally came deep inside you with a rut and a loud exhale; cock twitching against your cervix. He made sure to empty himself completely inside you with a few pumps. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness when he withdrew from inside your heat.

"Now, where's my thanks?"

[justgleekout]

Hear me out; what if Blaine was Kurt’s Christine? 👀

EDIT: I WROTE THE ACCOMPANYING FIC!

Angel of Music

Summary: Blaine’s imagination drifts away while helping Kurt with his “Music of the Night” rehearsal. (And I don’t blame him...)

Rating: T

Words: 799

Read on: Ao3

Additional tags: Phantom of the Opera inspired fic, dream sequence, Episode: s03e18 Choke, reaction fic, missing scene, kinda

Notes: So I recently watched The Phantom of the Opera and it shook me up like it always does. Been fantasising about a klaine “crossover” ever since. So first I drew this art to satisfy my imagination, but it wasn’t enough so I wrote this little drabble. I took some bits of the musical but altered them in a way to fit klaine better. 

Also, yes I am aware that the canon Phantom is a... not so healthy relationship partner. But Kurt is still Kurt here. So in my version, it’s not creepy.

And as always of course a thank you to my lovely beta @esperantoauthor (Esperanto on Ao3) who I am literally just sending stories to without warning at this point lmaooo.

Last but not least; I HIGHLY recommend listening to the song while reading. Either Kurt’s version or the original! Or maybe even the instrumental version if lyrics throw you off while reading. I personally had the original on repeat while writing hahah!

~

Blaine just stood there. Transfixed. His eyes gazed, unfocused, in Kurt's general direction. He didn't know how it happened. Just a moment ago they had been practicing Kurt's NYADA audition, but now Blaine was being seduced by the actual Phantom of the opera. The McKinley stage had transformed into the candle-lit sewers of the opera house. Thin fog was covering the ground beneath his feet. He couldn’t move, he could only feel. Feel while he watched Kurt, who was gliding through the mist, looking right at Blaine with his piercing blue eyes, one of which was hardly visible through the mask covering the right half of his face.

Blaine's breath hitched when Kurt beckoned him. As if being pulled by a string, Blaine walked towards the man dressed in a striking black Victorian suit. He hadn’t got any control over his body, yet he wasn’t afraid. He trusted this man, this Phantom, who was swaying to the music that echoed through the dungeon-like chamber. The man moved as if carried by the wind, his black and deep red cloak sweeping behind him. The movement of it sent a cold breeze past Blaine that pierced right through the thin fabric of his white poet shirt and blew the collar open, exposing more of his chest and shoulders. The air might have been cold, but Blaine's skin felt as if it were on fire, as he could feel Kurt’s eyes taking in every inch of him. He didn’t mind, though. The Phantom was singing. His voice was angelic, beautiful and clear, mesmerizing the younger man.

“Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before Let your soul take you where you long to be”

The word ‘be’ was sung so powerful that Blaine could feel it resonating in his bones. Shivers traveled down his spine as the Phantom got closer and closer until he was standing right before him. When he sang again the Phantom’s voice was hardly above a whisper,

“Only then can you belong to me”

Kurt touched him, then. Black gloved fingers traveled featherlight over the skin of Blaine’s neck, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. Blaine’s breath was heavy and his heart was pounding. He looked up, into the Phantom’s eyes. The tall man in front of him was so close. His eyes spoke love and passion.

“Floating, falling sweet intoxication

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation”

And that is exactly what Blaine did. As Kurt was singing to him, Blaine closed his eyes, letting the Phantom’s voice wash over him. Kurt walked around him and settled flush against his back. He placed his hands over Blaine's and guided them over Blaine's body. Their hands traveled from Blaine's sides over his chest to just below his stomach and back up to lightly cover his throat. Blaine swallowed at the slightly dominant yet intimate touch and let out a shivering breath. “…Kurt-,” he began, his voice hardly audible, but Kurt spun him around and cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he shushed Blaine softly, his mouth so close to Blaine's ear, that Blaine could feel his breath against it before the Phantom continued singing in the soft voice from before.

“Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write”

Kurt's arm was suddenly wrapped tightly around the small of Blaine’s back, pulling him close as he finished the song.

“Help me make the music of the night”

And then, Kurt kissed him, knocking the air right out of Blaine's chest. Blaine could, and wanted to, do nothing other than just be. He kissed back, but let his Phantom take control as he moved their mouths together. Arousal spread through Blaine’s body as Kurt urged his mouth open to let their tongues connect. Blaine couldn’t tell up from down. There was softness yet such determination in their kiss. Their lips moved together as one. Blaine whimpered into his Phantom’s mouth who changed the angle of the kiss to optimise passion and-

“Hey,” a familiar voice shook Blaine from his thoughts, “where’d you go?” Kurt was standing in front of him with a hand on Blaine's cheek and a sweet smile on his face.

“Hmm?” Blaine blinked a few times. He looked around and realised he was standing in the middle of the stage of the McKinley auditorium. “Oh… I- Just lost in thought,” he said in a soft voice, still coming down from his fantasy.

“Was I okay?” Kurt asked.

Blaine smiled up at his boyfriend. “You were perfect,” he sighed, then cleared his throat and continued, “but I eh… I think you should find another Christine. What do you think about Tina?”

[ellynneversweet]

So I listen to quite a lot of history podcasts, some of which focus on specific people, and occasionally by way of that I fall into fantasising about how historians say, a century from now will treat social media as a primary source. Of course there’ll be the Official Facebooks Announcements, and the great schisms of Twitter (occasionally referenced in actual newspapers), but I think the really juicy bit would be someone getting their hands on the chat logs of [future famous author’s] writeblr and going absolutely hog wild over the early plotting and how the germ of [future literary classic] can be seen in someone reblogging a stream of gifs and a quote and then sending a 2am HLEP IM FUCKING OBSESSED LOOK AT HER message to their fellow literary schemers.

Just imagine the shit that could go wrong. [famous future author] doesn’t archive their blog but their friend [famous future author 2] does, and our future historian finds that archive and ends up writing a thesis on what they know from the [reblogged from] and the chat logs. It turns out they had a second secret Twitter. The 2025 version of 1984 is inspired by someone telling them one of their mutuals is a Russian psyop. It would be amazing.