#Wrote a dabble here

[kristannafever]

Mountain Man - Fifteen

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: M/EX WC: 3098

Collab with @lukin08

Chapter Index

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Kristoff slid on the head set and checked the instrument panel then continued running through his pre-flight checklist.  A moment later, he was ready, and he fired up the engine of the plane.  Anna smiled at him from the co-pilot seat as he set out.  He rolled out of the hanger and taxied to the runway.  Once he got the all-clear from air traffic control, he pulled onto it, lined himself up, and took off.

There was no better feeling than being in control of a plane as it took off from the ground.  There was a weightlessness to it, something he felt in the deep pit of his stomach.  It trilled him every time. 

Six months ago, he was living alone in his cabin in the middle of nowhere, eking out a living on trade.  Now he was piloting an aircraft on his own with the love of his life beside him.   Look at me now, he thought.

They soared high in the clear, sunny sky.  It was the perfect day for flying.  The perfect day to do what he was about to do.  He looked over at Anna.  She was already looking at him and gave him a big smile.  He grinned back.  It was impossible not to feel pure happiness with the life he now had.   

They chatted as he flew, talking over this and that, things about their future, which they did often, and how great it had been for Kristoff to reconnect with Cliff and Linda.  They made the trip to White Mountain often, and they always had a fantastic time with Kristoff’s parents.  So much so in fact, that the older couple had decided they wanted to downsize their house and get a condo back in Nome to be closer to their family. 

Finally, the ridge came into view.   He had never flown this way before, only heard about it from Anna, and he was nervous with anticipation.  He’d dreamt about it, ever since she had described it to him, and he was excited to see it with his own eyes. 

He approached it and reminded himself to breathe, then just as he pictured it in his mind, they crested the ridge and the long valley opened up in front of them.

“Wow,” Kristoff whispered.

“Right?” Anna said softy.

He nodded unable to take his eyes off the view.  “It’s incredible.”

Anna reached over and patted his forearm gently.  He pulled in a breath, as he was strangely on the verge of tears.   While he knew today was going to be a mixed bag of emotion, he had no idea it was going to start this early.

They flew on, chatting again about the task at hand, when the strip of bare ground came into view.  He smiled.  The first time he’d set his eyes on it from this view he was with Frank; the plane full with the first load of his purchases to drop off in preparation to start his homestead.  It was a natural void in the forest that was just about perfect for landing a small plane.  They only thing Kristoff had to do was widen it a little and straighten it near the end for safety.   He had put all those felled trees to good use in keeping him warm in the lean-to while he worked to build his cabin.

He lined up the plane and began his decent.  The snow had all melted, leaving him a smooth grassy runway.  A moment later they were on the ground and Kristoff was maneuvering the plane back to where it was usually parked when it was unloaded with his supplies.  This time however, there were no supplies with them. 

Kristoff killed the engine and sat for a moment, looking through the window at his old life.  “It feels weird to be back,” he muttered. 

“You know, we can just call it off.”

He looked at her and gave a reassuring smile.  “No, Anna.  It’s okay.  I’m ready.  I’m ready to let go.”

They walked to the cabin and Kristoff disappeared into his shed to grab a hammer.  With it he took all the nails off the board he had hammered over the door.  He set the piece of plywood on the porch and opened the door.

The hinges groaned and Kristoff winced.  They were going to need some WD40.   He stepped into the dim cabin and went straight to the fire.  He got it up and running in no time while Anna lit the lantern and started packing his personal items into a duffle bag. 

With the cabin warming, he helped her with the last of it, grabbing his grandfather’s crib board and picking up the wolf pelt, putting them on top of his books, photos and clothes.  The only items left in the cabin were things he would not miss.  Things he no longer needed. 

“This does feel weird,” Anna frowned, looking around the cabin.  “Considering the last time I was here.”

Kristoff chuckled and pulled her into an embrace, caressing her back.  “You know, I was thinking we could give the place a bit of a send off.  One last thing to remember it by.”

“Really?” Anna smirked sensuously.  “What did you have in mind?”

“I dunno, something along the lines of that first night we slept together.”

“Hmmm, that sounds like a great idea.”

“Uh huh.”  He leaned down and kissed her. 

It wasn’t long before they were buried under the covers in the still chilly cabin warming up in the best way possible.  Anna was on top of him, kissing him silly, while they made love.  She had already come once and he was hoping he would make it to when she came again so he could join her.  It was magical when they reached climax together. 

He got his wish and they both moaned and held each other tight through their pleasure.  After they laid there for a long time, basking in the moment and taking the time to say a silent goodbye to the place where their lives had intertwined. 

“That young couple you sold the place to is going to love it here,” Anna said after a long time.

Kristoff sighed deeply, truly satisfied.  “They are.  And I am happy that they are so excited to do it together.  I know all too well how lonely it actually is.  I also know how valuable it is to have someone to help out.” He looked into her eyes.  “That week you were with me with me was the best week I’ve ever had here.”

“Well, it was the best week I’d ever had here too.”  She smirked.

Kristoff laughed.  It had been her only week there, but he couldn’t argue with the sentiment.  “You know, that night the first time we were together, it was… I don’t even have words to describe it.  It was… like I never knew I could ever have something like that, and then realizing that I was never going to have it again.”

“It’s weird you say that because I certainly thought the same thing at the time.  Although, we certainly have had that again.”

“Yes definitely.  It’s just not quite the same, you know.”  He realized how that came out and backpedalled quickly.  “I’m not saying anything bad!   It’s just… I don’t know… how can you compare that first moment to anything else.  The first time being with you… shit that moment is branded onto my soul.”

Anna giggled.  “I understand, Kristoff.  It is on mine too.  Every time we are together is a reminder of that beautiful night.  I will cherish it always.”

He shook his head.  “Boy, we are sappy today, aren’t we?”

She laughed.  “Just cringe.”

“Cringe?” he asked, confused.  He’d heard at least a dozen slang words that he did not understand.  

“Stupid teenager talk,” Anna said through a chuckle and got up.  “Come on Mountain Man, this place is not going to shut itself up.”

They dressed and boarded the cabin back up with the fire securely doused in the stove.   Kristoff had made a deal with the couple that the cabin came with everything except his personal belongings.  He didn’t even want the food anymore.  He left it there for them to start their lives off the grid.  He would be flying them up the next week as a matter of fact.  He’d have to mention to them that they will need to wash the bedding before using it. 

Thoughts of him and Anna dirtying it up made him smile. 

They were standing in the clearing, taking one last look around.  Anna had her eyes to the south, looking towards the trap line one last time, when he decided it was time.  He sunk to his knee, his hand going into this jacket pocket, just as her gaze was sweeping back around to him.

Anna pulled in a gasp when she saw him, and both hands clapped to her mouth. 

He cleared his throat gently, staring into her shimmering eyes.  “Anna, you are truly the most extraordinary person I have ever met.  You amaze me every day.  That storm allowed me to get to know who you are, and I am so incredibly thankful for that.  I want nothing else than to make you happy, Anna.  I want to be the husband you deserve and the best father I can be to our future kids.  I love you more than life itself.  Will you marry me?”

She was full on crying and nodding over and over, squeaking out “Yes, yes, yes!”

Kristoff grabbed her trembling hand and slid the ring onto her finger, his eyes burning with his own tears.  A moment later, they were in a tight embrace, and he pulled the restraints on his emotion and cried with her. 

*****

Anna could not stop staring at the ring.  It was gorgeous. 

She heard Kristoff’s chuckle into the headset.  “I am so glad you love it.  It’s not really a traditional engagement ring in a sense.”

“I adore it,” she said, tearing her eyes away from her hand.  “Kristoff, I cannot wait to be your wife.”

He smiled.  “I can’t wait to be your husband.”

Anna glanced at the ring again and then looked back at her man.  He was so incredible there were times that she could barely believe that such a wonderful person was in love with her.  Then he would go and show her just how in love with her he was, and she was usually left feeling in complete awe.  Either that or trying to recover from mind-melting pleasure.  That man did things to her that she didn’t know were even possible.

“When did you even have time to get this?” she asked, looking back to the ring again.  “We have barely spent a moment apart since you got back.”

He smiled, eyes on his instruments as he changed the altitude of the plane to get ready for their decent.  “When I said I had to wait at the gas station since a refuelling truck was in the way.  There wasn’t one.  I popped into a jewellery store and got it after I fueled up your truck.”

Anna laughed.  “You are sneaky, mister.”

He glanced over at her, looking thoughtful.  “I knew I wanted to propose at the cabin.  I just had to.  The fact that it is the reason for you coming into my life means a lot to me.  And then it wasn’t selling and I was getting a little panicky on trying to think of an excuse to take you up there.”

“Is that why you seemed so elated when it sold?”

He smiled.  “Oh yeah.  I was happy that it sold, but even happier that it meant I could finally propose.”

Again, Anna was struck with the enormity of what an incredible man he was.  Just utter perfection.  “I am making you whatever you want for dinner tonight.  Then I am going to make love to you all night long.”

He let out a low whistle, looking over at her.  “Baby, you are too good to me.”

~ That Summer ~

Kristoff stared at the ring on his finger.  He grinned.  As far as weddings go, theirs had been absolute perfection.

While Sven’s wedding earlier that year had been a blast, Kristoff and Anna’s nuptials were a lot more intimate.  Sven and Haley had at least fifty at their wedding whereas between the people in Anna and Kristoff’s lives at the moment, the guest list topped out at fifteen. 

In the end that was the perfect amount of people to be able to host the ceremony and reception in the back yard of Anna’s home.  Well, their home.  Elsa, upon hearing about their engagement, told Anna she was going to move on and find her own place.  With the inheritance left to her and Anna when their parent died, she was able to afford herself a nice condo near the ocean.   After that, Anna put the house in his name too.

There were five of them still currently awake sitting around the fire in the wee-hours of the morning.  The sun had set only an hour and a half ago and already dawn was just faintly beginning to lighten the horizon.  Kristoff looked over at Anna, engaged in a conversation with Haley.  Sven and Frank were across from him laughing at one of Sven’s jokes.  His heart felt full and he smiled at them all.

He thought back to seeing Anna come down the little aisle in her dress.  That first look at her stole his breath, and tears filled his eyes to see this absolutely stunning woman who was about to marry him.  She was adored in sea-foam green to compliment his light blue suit.  Anna had told him she didn’t want to go with traditional colours and he happily went along with her ideas. 

Her dress was shin length, sleeveless with spaghetti straps and layered into soft waves of fabric down the length.  In her hands a bouquet of white roses.  Kristoff blinked the tears out of his eyes as she approached him and he could see she was doing her hardest not to cry herself and ruin her makeup.  He put a firm grip on his emotion and smiled at her, wiping the tears away with a handkerchief.  Sven, standing behind him, gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

Anna turned to hand her bouquet to Elsa and the Justic of the Peace began their short ceremony.  Only fifteen minutes later they were wed, and the group wasted no time in jumping into the reception part of the event.   A small local mom-and-pop catering business was set up under a little tent in the corner of the yard with a buffet of delicious food.  A lot of it local seafood, caught that morning. There were also plenty of other wonderful things.  So much so that after everyone had had their fill, the caterers told Anna and Kristoff with a laugh that their fridge was stocked with the leftovers and they wouldn’t need to buy groceries for at least a week. 

Everyone ate outside on folding tables pushed together to form one long dinner table.  Conversations were light and happy, and when the DJ started, people flocked to the dancefloor; the concrete slab where the patio usually sat – its furniture moved to the beside the house.  It was the perfect size for all the guests. 

And after hours or dancing and merriment, finally it was the five of them, relishing in the last of what was surely one of the best days of Kristoff’s entire life. 

Anna leaned over and placed her hand on his forearm.  The rings on her finger glittered in the firelight.  He glanced at his own again, incredibly happy to see it there.  

“You okay,” she asked softly.

He looked at her and smiled.  “I have never been more okay in my entire life.”

She grinned back and he noticed out of the corner of his eye that their companions were standing from their chairs.  “Well, we’re gonna head out.  Give you two the rest of your night,” Frank said, rounding the fire to pull Anna and then Kristoff into a tight hug.  He bid them all the best and left through the gate with a wave and a smile over his shoulder.

Sven and Haley said their goodbyes next, the two couples promising each other they were going to get together again soon.  A pilot who bought Franks plane when he semi-retired that Anna had subcontracted when she was too busy, was going to take them back to Juneau the next day.  Since they’d made this trip up, Kristoff promised they’d head down there to see them as soon as they were able.

And now Kristoff and Anna were alone and he was sitting beside his beautiful bride, holding hands and looking up into the night sky.   Suddenly, a streak drew a quick white line against the deep blue, and he heard Anna pull in a light gasp.

“A shooting star,” he marvelled.  “Not that I believe in omen’s but that’s gotta be a good one, yeah?”

Anna giggled.  “Definitely.”

Just then another one shot across the sky in almost the same path as the first.  “Wow,” Anna breathed.

They continued to look skyward, but if there was a meteor shower, that was it.  The sky remained still as it continued to get lighter.

“Huh,” Kristoff said.  “Guess we just got the two.”

“We did.  How about that.  I was just thinking about the two children we plan to have.  Which I can’t wait to start working on by the way.”

He chuckled and looked at her.  “Me too.”

She gazed back at him, her eyes looking whimsical.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that maybe… just maybe, that was an omen.  Maybe… that was them.”

Kristoff smiled at her, incredulous at the thought.  “I love that idea.  And I love you, Anna.  I love you so much.”

She smiled as she got up and then settled herself in his lap.  “I love you too, Kristoff.  More than you will ever know.”  She kissed his forehead, his check… his lips.

Kristoff got up with her in his lap, cradled her into his arms, and carried her into their house and to their bedroom.  They came together as their first time being husband and wife, and not long after were sleeping soundly, dreaming of the two little faces they would soon see in their future.

--

Previous Chapter

[souenkun]

Been thinking for sometime after spending my days mostly resting in bed and reading fics, but... the swsh fandom really does have one of the best ao3 writers for me :o

[holycorrupt]

I wrote a silly little dabble about my Tav x Astarian and debated posting it but ah .. you live once lol

I did not proof read this lol

600~ words /General/ Fluff (?)

When you spend the majority of your days trekking through deep forests and scrambling up steep rocky Cliffsides, you're bound to get a scrape or two in your time.

Minor cuts and bruises that a potion or healing spell would be wasted on fixing. It's good to let the body do its own healing sometimes! Or at least that was Helios' excuse when he stumbled straight into a thick bramble of inch long thorned black berries. He had been trying to gather a couple of handfuls to share amongst his companions as a late afternoon snack. It was rather embrassing actually for the paladin! The nerve of the vines for slicing up his arm!

So he ignored Shadowheart and Gales kind offers to patch him up real quick with their magic and decided he shouldn't waste his own spells on himself just in case of a sudden ambush or more major injury comes along.

At least the berries were sweet and plump.

However, there was someone else who had an issue with his decision to simply allow his blood to leak freely down his forearm.

"That's it! I can't walk behind you any longer, you big oaf!"

Astarian's strides came to a complete halt, his lithe hands reaching out to grab Helios by the arm.

Helios pauses as well, looking down at the much shorter man.

"Oh... are you hungry, love?" He tilts his head, the sunlight catching his eyes just right that you could tell the ever slight difference in color between his eyes.

Gale's eyebrows shoot up, and he opens his mouth like he's about to make a snide joke but quickly shuts his trap at the pointed look that Shadowheart gives him. They not so subtlety easedrop instead.

Astarian snorts and rolls his free hand flippantly.

"Oh yes, you are so sweet, darling! but I'm not that desperate for blood that I'm going to start licking your arm like some dog...who knows where it's been" He feins a disgusted shiver. Instead, he reaches into his pack and pulls out a small jar and a rag.

Red eyes intently work on their task of cleaning away the blood from the wound, giving special care to even mop away all the blood that was slowly drying down by Helios' wrist.

After the arm was clean, he swiped a finger in the jar and spread a thick gelly like layer over the wound. Whatever was in the jar seemed to do the trick in creating a barrier, and Helios was bleeding no longer.

"Oh my Star, thank you!"

Helios beams as bright as the sun, chuckling at the way Astarian rolls his eyes warmly at the silly pet name. He was good at dishing them out himself but not so good at having them shot back at him.

"Yes, yes, now you can stop smelling so delicious and distracting..." The vampire smirks glancing over at their other party members doing a terrible job if looking like they weren't watching the couple.

"OK shows over, come on chop, chop we have places to be"

Astarian steps quickly ahead, long legs making fast work of the path ahead of them, forcing everyone else to rush to catch up. It's not a good idea to split up the party after all.

Helios still ends up taking the rear, glancing at his arm. He takes a finger to the edge of some of the healing substance and brings it to his nose.

Ah! It smelled exactly the same as when he would awake in the morning after telling Astarian he could feed off of him... hm... that might explain why the bite marks never seemed that prominent. He smiles to himself.

It smells like Astarian.

[maho6any]

Merlot Canvases

paint instructor!Park Seonghwa x F!Reader

summary: You feel like you're lacking that artistic flair in your life. Everyone you've met who dabbles in the arts just has this twinge of light in their eyes that you feel like you're missing. So, taking a paint class might ignite that light in you, or maybe it'll ignite something else.

tracklist: hello?, overstimulated, professional,

tags: strangers to lovers, reader is overworked, seonghwa is whipped, reader is also whipped, unprotected sex(you know the drill), oral (f!recieving), fingering, tension tension TENSION, on a desk, mentions of voyeurism, petnames (baby, princess, honey, etc), soft/mean mdom, fsub, seonghwa needs you to breathe, not proofread

wc: 10.1k

notes: wrote this in one session. jeez, sorry guys. i have not read this through, its 11pm. i have work in the morning. there will be spelling mistakes. fuck it we ball

When you ask someone what motivates them, you get a wide array of answers. Some say their job, or their family. Others say their hobbies or their pets. And some people say nothing in particular, they just have a strong drive for life.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re depressed. It's not like you hate life and you want it to come to an end. But you could say you feel like you’re watching it fly by like a movie reel. You stand on the sidewalk as you watch yourself walk into your mundane office job 5 days out of the week. Sit in a cubicle for 8 hours before leaving, walking back home, having dinner, and going to bed.

Since graduating from high school, friends have been hard to come by. Making friends as an adult without being a college student or frequenting bars and clubs proves to be a challenge. You wouldn’t say you’re lonely either. You like your quiet life, but it just feels like something is missing. Like you could be doing more besides the repetitive schedule you’ve been following for the past 3 years. 

You sat on your couch, a few candles lit here and there as the rain pattered against your window. Your townhouse was dark, no sign of life other than you, and the flicker of candlelight on the dark brown walls. You leaned your head back on the couch, eyes closed, as you listened to the rain beat down like TV static. Cars whirred past the window of your home, rushing to or from work. To or from events. Busy, with things to keep them occupied.

You let out a deep breath, directing your attention to the flyer on your coffee table. Surrounded by unread books and worn-down pencils, a piece of paper you picked up from a pole plastered down the street on your way home from work a few days ago.

A flyer for a painter’s class. 

You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in your whole life. At least not since grade school. You don’t think you’re the most artistic either. Yes, you have ideas and you have inspirations, but you could never put pen to paper. It's always come out janky, or just simply not how you envisioned it. The small town you lived in didn’t have many excursions to do.

You lived on a bustling street, lined with townhouses and little shops. Speakeasy-style bars littered here and there with live music and whatnot, but going out for a drink with the slim chance of getting drunk enough to hook up with some random who will leave you high and dry by morning was less than appealing to you.

You had been in every shop, every library, every single place this shit town had to offer, or so you thought.

Art Workshop

Every Sunday, 7 pm to 9 pm

Supplies provided for newcomers, the instructor will offer a list after the first session, given that you would like to return

Ages 18 and up

We look forward to seeing you there!

With an address printed on the bottom and some cute little drawings strewn about the paper, you couldn’t help but snatch it up in the moment. You weren’t really thinking about it, but at the moment, it seemed plausible. You had just gotten off a pretty rough shift, and a glimmer of possibility that you might do something other than grocery shopping or sitting at home on your weekend was tempting.

But here you are, Sunday, 6 pm, debating if you really should follow through and attend the class. You were reserved, not exactly shy. You spoke when needed to, and you didn't let anyone walk all over you, but you weren't one to randomly engage in conversations at work or on the street. You simply had no need. Like you said, you aren't lonely, just lacking a sort of passion. An urge to create, or the need to have an outlet.

You were so hesitant to go because you truly didn't know what you would make of it. What if it was a waste of time? Or what if it was not what you were looking for? There goes that hope, because this was your last option. That hope that you might finally find something.

So, ultimately, you decided to just go for it, because spending the rest of your life wondering surely won’t do you any good. And that's how you found yourself standing in an alleyway a few blocks away from home, umbrella shielding you from the onslaught of rain.

The streets were dark by now, and the entrance to the class was less than promising. Between two townhomes, illuminated only by a lampost, a staircase led down to a door. It was only a few steps, but the fact that it was somewhat underground raised some questions. You double, no triple, checked the flyer to make sure you were at the right place and the address was indeed correct.

You descended the staircase, the number on the door matching the one on the flyer. You checked your phone. 6:50. You closed your umbrella and shook it out, reaching out a hand and opening the door.

You stepped inside, closing it behind you. It was warm inside, and it smelled like citrus and sandalwood. There was an umbrella basket sitting by the door, with a couple of other umbrellas sitting inside. You set yours in the basket, looking up to take in your surroundings. It was just a hallway, with four doors. Two on one side, one on the other, and a door at the very end, straight across from the entrance.

It was quiet, like nobody was in the building, a yellow light flickered on the ceiling of the cramped hall, giving off a quite eerie glow. The two doors on the left had bathroom markings, one for men and one for women. The lone door on the right did not indicate what was behind; you safely assumed it was storage or for janitorial purposes.

The door at the end of the hall had a sign that simply said, “atelier.” You stepped further into the space, your footsteps quiet as you walked to the door at the end.

You stopped and listened to see if you could hear anything inside. Faint chatter, a couple laughs here and there. When you were sure you did in fact have the right day, you twisted the handle and stepped inside.

Immediately, all eyes were on you. There were about 6 other people in the room, with high ceilings supported by black metal pillars. There were a few large windows that opened to a perfect view of the cobblestone streets, like you could watch the shoes of passersby as they made their daily rounds. The floor was red varnished wood, and the walls matched. There were 10 stools in the room, scattered about randomly, and a canvas sat in front of each one, blank and ready to be painted on. At the front of the room, there was a desk, littered with papers and paint supplies, and a little bit of everything, quite messy.

A larger blank canvas sat in front of the desk, an empty stool beside it where you assumed the instructor would be perched later when class started.

Everyone sat and watched as you walked in, and took a seat farthest from the front, setting your bag on the floor. You directed your attention to the canvas in front of you, and like you never even showed up, everyone continued their conversation. You were just another addition to the class. Nothing special. Nothing notable. They’d forget you were there in 5 minutes.

The conversations around you droned on for another 10 minutes. The instructor was late, but nobody seemed to care. They continued to talk, slowly taking out supplies and setting them around their canvas.

Luckily, the seat you chose was right next to a table of supplies, and you stood and gathered paint palettes of all colors, a wide variety of paintbrushes, a cup of water, and a few pencils. When you had your area set up, you glanced at your phone again. 7:20. You were about to muster up the courage to ask a person nearby about the tardiness of your teacher when the door opened.

The conversations lowered to murmurs before completely dying out as everyone directed their attention to who came in. You looked up from your phone to see who it was, and it was then and there you decided there was no way you could come back to this class.

Sporting a ruffled collared white button-up shirt, black wide-leg slacks, and the most luscious head of hair you had ever seen, you immediately knew this was your instructor. He walked to the desk in front, his back turned, as he set down a bag on the desk. He grabbed a marker from a cup near the corner, uncapped it with a loud pop, and started writing on the whiteboard. Today’s date. And then the words “Impressionism and Perspective.” Neat handwriting, each ending letter had a slight curve akin to once knowing cursive. He capped the marker, threw it on his desk, and turned to face the class.

His face was unreal. Symmetrical, soft skin, plush lips, dark eyes, muse worthy. He was tall, radiant, exuding a calm energy, yet still, his presence had an impact. His eyes moved across the classroom, taking in the faces, bored almost. His eyes landed on you, sitting in the back. Quiet, keeping to yourself, staying out of the way.

He lingered on you for a second longer before looking away again. He smiled, a warm, welcoming smile, and moved to sit on the stool next to his canvas.

“Welcome back to class.” He was soft spoken, with a musical tone to his words. Gentle, he approached, speaking like the words could crack if he enunciated too harshly. A lullaby-worthy voice. His smile was just as smooth; it pulled you in. Your attention was 100% on him. 

And he liked it that way.

“Impressionism.” He stated, he leaned forward on the stool, his foot resting on a bar near the bottom of it, an elbow on his knee, with his hands idly playing with each other as he looked out upon the room as he spoke to the class in its entirety.

“Think Monet, Degas. A French style derived from the 19th century that ties into our second topic of the day, perspective. What can you tell me about it?”

Now you were no artist yourself, but that doesn’t mean you don't like to admire. You frequented museums in the area so often that the employees knew you by name. You had seen every piece, old and new, that they had to offer. Sometimes you’d sit on the benches in front of the displays for 30 minutes to an hour, analyzing brush strokes, memorizing colors, taking the full picture in.

And frankly, nothing could compare to him. You could stare at him for hours.

A student raised their hand. They said something about abstractness. You weren’t really listening. Another response from someone else, mentioning the lacking note of finality in impressionist pieces.

A few more answers here and there, all good ones, you assume, but your focus was completely narrowed in on your instructor.

Their answers fell on deaf ears as they prattled on about the art form. 

“And what about you?” Snapping from your trance, you realize he is staring directly at you. Eyes boring into yours, unrelenting. A question on his brow, the smile missing from his face, his hand stopped fiddling, and they now pointed in your direction, to your secluded island in the back of the studio. You hoped you wouldn’t draw attention, but you suppose your lack of engagement was more noticeable in a class with only 6 other people.

Feeling put on the spot, your back straightened as you locked eyes with the instructor, your knee began to bounce as the other students turned to look in your direction. You did your best to ignore their prying eyes as you cleared your throat.

“Well, like the name suggests, it's an impression. It's loose and undefined, but your mind is well enough off to piece it together. Not quite abstract, because the picture is clear. But it's the bare bones, just enough to create something beautiful…. I think…” You trailed off, nervousness overtaking you. You noticed the student who mentioned abstractness narrowed their eyes at you like you dismissed their answer as bullshit, which wasn’t your intention.

This was the last thing you wanted: all eyes on you, the center of attention. He didn't speak for a second, eyes staying glued on you. You averted your gaze, feeling so seen was not your favorite thing on earth, and his stare was far more than intense. It was exposing, like he could see every part of you.

“Seonghwa, doesn’t it also center around the way the light is painted as well as open composition?” A student chimed in. He didn't look at them; his eyes stayed on you for a few more seconds before ripping away and looking at the student who spoke. His smile returned, and he nodded.

“Everyone has great points. Visible brush strokes and light colors. Most artists completely avoided the color black as well. It was less of artists trying to capture images of real life, but closer to an idea, an impression of a scene.” You could breathe again, attention was drawn from you, and back on your instructor, whose name you just learned was Seonghwa.

He continued to talk, connected different styles and drew correlations, using his paints to demonstrate examples of brushstrokes and things of the sort. Everyone listened carefully. He was so easy to listen to with that soft voice and soothing demeanor.

He would look out at the class every time he made a new point to gauge reactions, and his eyes always fell on you at the end, before continuing the lecture. You were this close to walking out because every time his eyes locked with yours, he raised one eyebrow and almost smirked as if to ask you silently. “Are you listening?”

After a well-informed lesson, Seonghwa decided it was time for some practice.

“Alright, if you will, as simply as you can, don’t make it difficult yourself, paint your own impressionist piece. Paint something that means something to you. Whether that's a scenic spot you keep in your memories, whether it's a person, or an object. Paint it, but paint it like the image is pictured in your mind, but you spilled water over it. It's blurry and smudged; it's a silhouette. Barely there. Put pen to paper for the next hour. Go.”

Everyone immediately began getting to work, dipping brushes and collecting colors. You sat at your canvas, watching as everyone started. Seonghwa moved to sit behind his desk, looking at a stack of papers and organizing paint palettes.

His eyes locked on you again, catching you staring. His eyebrows raised, and he did smile this time, before mouthing the words. ‘Get to work.’

Obeying, you directed your gaze to your empty canvas, and you thought to yourself. Something, or someplace, that means something to you. This was proving to be difficult because that was the entire reason you attended this class in the first place. To find something that meant something to you.

You tapped the end of your paintbrush to your lips, lost in thought about what you should paint. Your job meant nothing, your place was homey but it was just a roof over your head. You didn’t really talk to your family, and you didn’t have any special places.

So, without a plan in mind, you started to paint. Some strokes of green here, smudges of blue there, pluffs of white and shades of red. You just started painting. What were you painting? You had no clue, not yet at least.

 The world drowned out the light chatter from classmates as you painted, like you were on autopilot, your hand simply moved on its own.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly you blinked, and actually looked at your canvas.

There were shapes, forms, something was there, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. You tilted your head, moved from side to side to try and get an angle where you could decipher what you just made, but it was useless.

You frowned and went to set your brush down when a large, slender hand gently covered yours, gripping your hand softly and guiding your hand back up. A firm chest pressed against your back, and locks of hair tickled your neck.

“Here, like this.” The soft voice against your ear nearly made you shiver as you let Seonghwa control the way you paint. He lifted your wrist to wash the brush in the cup of water, then dipped it into a dark green on the palette.

He guided your hand to sweep the paintbrush across the canvas, adding bits of depth and shadow to the strokes, a few here, some there. The carefulness of his hand holding yours made your heart flutter. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his steady breaths, smell him, sense him hovering over you.

He continued to paint while holding your hand, and you let him, feeling the warmth of his fingertips, the calluses of his skin.

Before long, he moved to have you set the paintbrush down and then let go of your wrist, his fingers gently caressing, a ghost of a touch as he pulled away.

“Now look at it.” He mumbled, only to you, like the rest of the class didn’t exist.

You squinted your eyes, tilted your head, and there it was.

Strokes of green that formed into a field. A silhouette of clouds against a powder blue sky. A form of a child, which strangely resembled you. The field was vast, and the sky was open. But far from the child was another form. A body, older. Standing under a tree, the leaves fell over her like a canopy. An adult, who once again, oddly resembled you. The child was staring at the sky, back turned toward the canvas, while the other stared directly out at the artist, watching.

In the far upper corner of the canvas, the blue sky faded into grey storms, angry and waiting far off in the distance. The child watched the clouds as the inevitable storm rumbled in from the east, while the older one simply stood in the distance, safe from the clouds but unable to scoop up the child and bring her underneath the canopy.

The paint smudged, and the forms barely even took place. But you could see them with your own eyes. Decipher your work.

Your breath hitched, and you turned to look at your instructor, who now stood off next to another student, helping them with their piece, back turned fully to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but shut it just as quickly. Turning back to your canvas, you stared at it. Not daring to ruin what you had made, you set down the brush and patiently waited for the rest of your classmates to finish.

Your chest bloomed, but your heart withered. How did your brain conjure this up? Sure, it wasn't professional and not even display worthy, but it made you feel something. Something familiar.

You must have zoned out, a loud clap snapping you from the trance as you looked up at the source. Seonghwa stood near the front of the class again, gathering his students’ attention once more.

“Our time is almost up, as always. Great work today. Even if it was just a stickman, your creations will always be beautiful. You can leave your pieces where they are, and when we come back, we can varnish them, and then you’re welcome to explain your piece if you’d like. Until then, have a great night, be safe. See you next week.” Seonghwa smiled that charming, warm smile again, before beginning to clean his desk.

Everyone gathered their supplies and packed their bags, one by one heading out the door as they talked idly with one another.

You stayed in your seat, eyes glued to your piece. It was time to leave.

When you finally stood to gather your things and clean your area, there were only two other people in the room, standing in front of Seonghwa’s desk and talking to him. Asking questions you assumed. You ignored them, and just as you gathered the rest of your stuff, they filed out the door. Now it was just you and him.

The air was still and the rain pattered softly on the windows.

“Will I see you next week?” His voice cut through the silence, almost startling you. Soft, yet firm. Expecting. You turned his direction, realizing you hadn’t even thought about whether you were going to return or not. He wasn't looking up, busy jotting down something in a notebook.

“I don’t know.” You answered simply. “Guess we’ll have to see.” You smiled nervously, and then you realized how rude that must have sounded. You scrambled to defend yourself.

“You’re an amazing teacher, and you really helped me understand what I was doing… I think. It just depends on how the week treats me, I guess.” He lifted his eyes finally, pressing the tip of his pen against his soft bottom lip. His eyes trailed up, then down, before landing back on your face.

“I look forward to seeing you next week, Ms…?” Dumbfounded to say the least at his confidence in the idea you’d come back. You were caught off guard, stuttering out your name in response.

“(Name)..” he stated quietly, like he was taste testing the syllables. He smiled again and set his pen down on his mess of a desk, folding his hands and resting his chin on them.

He nodded his head down at his desk, urging you to come forward. “Your list of supplies is on my desk. Come pick them up before you go, please.”

You hesitated, feet glued to your spot. Before you forced your legs to move and carry you to his desk. He watches you with every step, eyes never leaving you once.

You stopped in front of him, picked up the paper, and glanced down at it. Necessities, with recommended brands, ranging from the most expensive to budget-friendly. Locations of nearby art stores and QR codes to videos in case you’d like to practice on your own time. Thorough. His full name was scrawled at the bottom. Park Seonghwa.

When you looked back up, he was standing behind the desk, eye level with you, as his hands rested on the surface, palms flat, hunched over the papers.

A strange heat flushed your neck as his stare pinned you down, his fingers tapping against the desk in a slow rhythm like he was pacing himself.

Then he straightened, sat back down, and looked back down at the notebook. “That's all.” 

What.

You turned stiffly and hurried out the door before anything else weird could happen. You forgot your umbrella and walked out into the street, the rain soaking your clothes as you began walking back home hurriedly.

What the fuck.

There was no way you could go back.

A few days had passed, and work came and went. Draining as always. And even though you weren't even sure if you’d go back to the paint class, it was all you could think about. But was it the painting… or the painter that drew you in?

You found yourself standing in front of a crafts shop, the paper he gave you in your hand as you stared through the glass windows into the store. Were you really going to buy this stuff? Does this solidify your return? Guess you’ll find out.

Stepping into the store, you were met with silence. Like nobody was there/ Maybe one person browsing the paint section, one or two at customer service, other than that it was a ghost town. You looked down at your list and nodded to yourself, stepping further into the store to find the supplies you needed.

Some basic paint palette, an array of brushes, canvases, small and large. The store was homey, stone floors and wood walls, soft music played from the intercom as you meandered about the building, browsing different sections.

You were near the back of the store, in front of a canvas display. They had black canvases, white ones, canvases so large they could probably cover your bedroom floor. You grabbed a couple of 9x12s in case you wanted to practice at home.

You turned to go see what paints they had when you saw him.

Your instructor was across the aisle, looking at stencils and rulers. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and as quickly as you could, you walked the opposite direction, further towards the back of the store.

You could not handle him right now, the intense stares, the strange tension between you two. You pretended to look at the scissors on the wall, taking great interest in the different colors and sizes.

You waited there a few minutes in hopes that he had moved on.

“Need help choosing a pair of scissors? Contrary to popular belief, they are not all the same thing.”

Fuck.

You craned your head up to see the man of the hour standing behind you, a smile on his face and a shopping basket in his hand. Wearing a plain black V-neck that hugged his chest just a little too tightly, and some wide-leg blue jeans. You let your eyes wander for just a second before answering him.

“I’m okay, thank you, though.” He nodded in acknowledgment before raising an eyebrow in question.

“Coulda swore I saw you come in earlier, but I wasn’t sure if it was you or not.” So you were screwed from the beginning he had seen you walk into the store. He nodded down at the list in your hand, his smile widening as his gaze fell over the almost full shopping basket in your hand.

“I see you’re stocking up for upcoming classes. I’m happy to see that.” He stepped closer into your space. You needed to leave before you jumped his bones.

What no. Why would you think that? What's wrong with you?

“Well, I’m still deciding, y’know, I'm so busy with work and whatnot,  I have to make sure I have time..” You smiled nervously, trying to sound as believable as possible. Seonghwa cocked his head to the side in confusion, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. He bobbed his head, and a small laugh slipped from him, like he was in disbelief.

“That's funny. From what I could tell, you really enjoyed my class. You came in all tense and closed up, but by the end, though you seemed like you really let yourself enjoy something.” Now you were somewhat offended. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“And what do you think you know about me? I was trying something for the hell of it. I wasn’t searching for something.” Lying through your teeth. And he seemed to sense that.

His smile only widened at your response, his hand coming up and raking through his long hair.

“Anyone with eyes could look at you and tell there's more to you than you’re letting on, and that's okay. We’re strangers, I don't need to know everything about you. But if you don’t like my assumptions about you, you can fix it by telling me about yourself.”

This asshat.

“I’m glad you’re so sure of yourself, Mr. Park.” You sneered, turning to walk towards the cash register, so you could check out and leave. “But I know what I want, and right now I want to go home. It was nice seeing you, but you are slowly losing me. Sunday might be reserved for nights at home again if this attitude of yours is something I’ll have to deal with every week.”

They pulled a deep laugh from him, one that stopped you in your tracks. “Well, you’re still buying the supplies, baby, so I’m assuming that you’ll be seeing my face sooner than you’d like to let on.”

 The stupid pet name made your stomach flip and your cheeks heat. Unfortunately, it was more teasing than in an endearing way, which made you want to put him in his place even more. But before you could retort, Seonghwa took a peek into your basket before looking back up at you.

 “Looks like you’re missing just a few more things. Here, c'mon." He placed his palm against the small of your back, urging you to walk with him. You followed without much objection, mumbling curses quietly to yourself as he guided your body to walk to the other side of the store.

You stopped in front of a display of gloss varnish and some easels. Along with a couple gold gold-framed mirrors on the top shelf. He leaned over your shoulder, his lips close to your ear again. “See here.” He whispered, “Some varnish if you’d like to preserve the paintings. And an easel so you can paint without hunching the whole time. I promise you it’ll do your back wonders.”

While he spoke, one hand reached forward and grabbed a bottle of varnish, dropping it into your basket, while the other traced a feather-light trail down your spine. You shivered at the touch, his smile widening at your reaction.

For a moment, it was just you two again. Your eyes met in one of the mirrors. Seonghwa’s gaze was low, calm, but there was a twinge of something else in it. Like a barely controlled sense of need. Want. His eyes were half lidded as he watched your brows furrow at the feeling of his touch along your back. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth. He hummed against your ear quietly, his hand twitched, like he wanted to hold more of your body. Like he wanted to touch you like you were his.

Or maybe you were crazy, lack of sleep. You barely knew him. Maybe you needed to get laid.

He pulled away and grabbed a couple of bottles of varnish for himself, dropping them in his basket. 

“Looks like you got it all, sweetheart,” he smiled, and you turned, ripping your eyes from the mirror and directing your attention up at him. His hand reached forward and held a lock of your hair between his fingers, letting the strands dance between his knuckles.

Seonghwa’s eyes roved all over your face, taking you in, like he was trying to memorize everything about you. “I’d love to paint you someday, beautiful. Would you let me?” It took everything in your power not to let your mouth fall open in shock at his words.

“Me..?” you swallowed, fingers fiddling nervously as your gaze fell to your feet.

“You.” He stated simply, like he was talking about the least intimate thing in the world. His finger pinched your chin gently and tilted your head up to look at him. He tilted your head to the right, then to the left, up, and then down, like he was mapping your face. Trying to figure out what colors would work, what shading to use, and what brushes would perfectly encapsulate the acne scars and the texture of your skin. What brush would perfectly capture the slope of your nose, and what colors would mix for that beautiful shade of your iris. 

“Think about it.” He said, leaving no room for argument, before letting go of your chin and turning to walk away. 

‘‘See you next Sunday, love.” And he was gone.  The fucking audacity. And guess what.

Sunday came faster than you would have liked. And you were in your mirror, touching up your hair. A tote bag filled with art supplies, as you prepared to head to your second class.

The fucker had you. Had you wrapped around his finger. He was alluring, annoying, beautiful, and you didn’t want to give him credit for it. But he was right. You enjoyed the class, and you liked that he was able to pull that creativity out of you. And you liked looking at him. And hearing his voice.

It was raining again today. You decided that being early wasn’t important today. So you left your house at 6:50, showing up at 7:15. Make him think you weren’t coming, but unfortunately, your punctual nature wouldn’t allow you to be any later than that. You did your best.

You walked into the building, stood in front of the door for a second, gathering your bearings. You twisted the knob and walked inside, more confidence in your walk than your first day.

Once again, heads turned to look at you, the same 6 students in their respective spots. However, your seat in the back was gone. And the only empty chair was the one closest to Seonghwa’s desk. He was sitting on his stool, a finished painting on the easel, a wide paintbrush in hand as he demonstrated varnishing the artwork.

His eyes locked with yours, only for a second before looking back at his task. “Nice of you to join us (Name.) Have a seat, we’re just varnishing.” Slowly, you made your way to the empty seat by his desk, sitting down and setting your supplies out.

“While most artists didn’t varnish impressionism pieces, we are for the sake of preservation. They preferred the matte, rough look. But they lived in Europe, where the sun didn’t shine. Your art kind of needs the varnish now more than ever. We're using a satin varnish that keeps the natural look, but offers a bit of protection. So don’t worry, they won’t be ruined.”

He clapped his hands and set down the brush, standing from his stool. “You can come up and grab your pieces from the drying rack and begin varnishing. I’ll walk around, and just let me know if you have any questions.” Everyone stood to grab their pieces, you following suit.

Seonghwa stood by the rack, watching as each individual picked up their pieces. You were last, his eyes following your every move. Pretending you didn’t see him, you grabbed your piece and walked back to your seat.

If he wants to play games, you simply won’t give him the satisfaction. You pulled the varnish that you bought from your bag and a large brush, setting your canvas on your easel. You gave the painting a once-over, still somewhat astounded that you could create something so pretty.

You opened the bottle and poured it into a cup, dipping the brush and beginning. The rain fell steadily as the students' idle chatter once again faded into background noise as you focused on your task.

Carefully as you could, you spread the varnish about your work, admiring as the soft sheen coated the colors and made them more vibrant. Stroke by stroke, you were evening out the gloss, and soon enough, the whole canvas was covered.

You were so lost in your work that you hadn’t noticed that Seonghwa was not in fact walking around the room, but standing at the back of the studio. Back against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted lazily to the side. His eyes were trained directly on the back of your neck. 

His gaze followed the curve where your neck met your shoulder, how your shoulder blades poked only slightly through your shirt, down and aligning your waist, admiring your attentiveness. Oh, how he’d love to capture every part of your body and hang it on his wall proudly. He didn’t know what it was about you.

You were nothing special, another young girl finding her way through life, discovering her passions. But there was just something. He couldn't place his finger on it. But he wanted to find out as soon as possible.

He walked back towards the front, striding towards your seat. But just as he was about to speak, some varnish dribbled down the brush onto your hands. Immediately, Seonghwa was at your side, grabbing your wrist, making you drop the brush.

Surprised, you yelled quietly at the contact. “What the hell, what did I do?” Not giving you time to object, he lifted you by your arm, urging you to follow him. However, in his frantic movement, his face and voice remained calm as he walked you both to the door.

“Varnish can irritate if it gets on the skin.” He spoke as he led you into the hall. The other students paid you no mind as he led you to the bathroom.

“It's best to rinse the area for about 15 minutes, because it could cause a burn.” He turned on the light and switched on the faucet, dragging your wrist under the cold faucet water.

“I can do it myself.” You groaned. The bathroom was cramped, his chest pressed against your back as you looked into the mirror. He let go of your wrist, a little too slowly, as you left your hand under the running water. He physically couldn’t step back in the confined space.

He remained behind you, watching you in the mirror. Your gaze stayed on your hand as you twisted your wrist to get the water all over your hand. The bathroom was silent, despite the rush of water and the hum of the air vent.

The air. Stagnant. The tension. Thick.

“Do you need to hover?” You asked, your voice smaller than you had liked. “I’m not 5, I don't need adult supervision, Sir.” You hissed around the last word, but Seonghwa’s breath caught in his chest so quickly you hadn’t caught it. 

He was so close, and refused to admit it was driving you mad. You could smell him, and you wouldn’t dare look in the mirror, because if you met his gaze, you just might snap. He was too much. He dripped sex appeal. Control. Authority. But it was gentle. Suggestive, like he would never do anything unless you got on your knees and begged for him. Like if your body cried for him.

 You turned off the faucet when you were sure the area was clean, and you were about to turn and walk out of the bathroom.

A hand, slender, large, and firm. With the softness of a mother’s touch, it slipped around the front of your throat, grounding you. His chest pressed harder against your back, almost pushing you against the sink. Your hands gripped the bowl of the sink, holding your upper body up as you felt him against you.

Seonghwa leaned his head down, pressing his lips against your ear. His breath tickled the shell, and your breath quickened.

“What is it about you?” He murmured against your ear. His breathing was heavier, his chest rising and falling against your back. “It's irking me so fucking bad.” His nose dipped into that soft spot between your neck and shoulder, inhaling softly.

Whimpering was your first mistake. His whole body shivered as he placed the softest of kisses on the nape of your neck. “Tell me no.” He whispered. His free hand came up and gripped your jaw lightly, directing your gaze to the mirror.

You locked eyes with him in the reflective glass, your knees going weak at the primal look he was giving you. “Look at me and tell me you don’t want this.”

Your lips remained glued shut. Your eyelids fluttered, and Seonghwa's hand rested on your jaw, his thumb rubbing your cheek coaxingly. You leaned back into his touch, a question in your eyes.”

“Ask.” He demanded, already sensing you had something to say.

“Are you playing with me?” You mumbled, your lips slightly slurred with the hold he had on your jaw.

“No playing. No games, darling. I promise I’ll be as gentle as I can.” There was a false promise in his tone, and he could barely hide the smile that tried to creep onto his lips.

The hand on your throat tilted your head up, craning your neck as his neck tilted down, his nose brushing yours, and his breath fanning against your lips. You were hesitant. But only because you were afraid that if you let him, you might become addicted. Then you’ll come crawling back by the end of it.

But that filthy, shameful dark corner in your mind couldn’t resist him. Your stomach clenched, and your heart battered in your ribcage. Suddenly, the bathroom was too hot, and the tension was so thick you couldn’t breathe. You needed to breathe. You needed Seonghwa to give you air.

So with the last bit of oxygen in your lungs, you parted your lips and whimpered out the softest, most pliant, “Please.” And that was all he needed.

Like he was savoring it, he brushed the skin of his lips against yours, back and forth, before opening his mouth and swallowing your lips. The slowest, most sensual rhythm of lips against lips. And you could breathe again.

You sighed into his mouth, and the sound only spurred him further. His lips moved away, but only for a second, before he turned you around and pressed your back against the sink. His hand around your throat again as he pressed his body into yours, melding with you like he belonged there. His mouth moved against you like you were the most flavorful thing he had ever had the pleasure of tasting, his thumb rubbing the side of your throat, his other hand gripping your hip, pulling you closer to him as he devoured you. Your hands lifted and gripped his hair at the scalp, dragging a groan from his throat, his lips smiling against yours at the feeling of your hands.

“So soft..” he moaned into your mouth, barely giving you time to think as your head spun at the pure intensity of the kiss. “So fucking sweet.” 

Your eyes were shut, but his were open, watching himself in the mirror as the hand on your throat moved to grip the back of your neck. He watched his flex tendons flex as he held your neck possessively, like he owned you. The way your back arched and your body trembled. 

“Seonghwa…” You whined into his mouth. He almost growled, pushing his tongue into your mouth and drinking the pretty sounds you made.

“Again.” He groaned like it hurt, his eyebrows furrowed, and the grip on your waist tightened. “Say it again.”

You obeyed. “Seonghwa…” His kisses were rougher, claiming and violent. Like he wanted to eat you alive. You were lost in him, his roaming hands, and the way his body kept trying to push itself into you as if you both could even possibly physically be any closer.

“Fucking beautiful.” He pulled from your lips, littering kisses along your neck, both hands sliding up your shirt and tickling the sides of your waist. “Making the most lovely sounds. I’d pick you up and fuck you against this wall if I you’d let me. Would you let me, huh, pretty girl?”

You nodded frantically, thighs clenching at the mere thought.

And suddenly you remember this was your instructor. There were students in the other room. They were bound to wonder where you two were soon.

“W-we have to go back…” You whispered, his large hands kneading the flesh of your waist, like the thought of letting you go might just kill him. He groaned, pressing one last, claiming kiss on your shoulder. He pulled back and let his hands fall from your body, and suddenly you were cold.

Seonghwa took a deep breath, calming himself. He looked at you, pupils dilated and lips flushed. “Stay here. Leave in 10 minutes. Class is almost over. Once everyone leaves, come back to the studio.”

Leaving no room for debate, he opened the door and left. Your back still against the sink, hair disheveled, and lips kiss-swollen. Did that really just happen? Silence enveloped you as you leaned against the wall, waiting.

What must have been the longest ten minutes of your fucking life, the anticipation swirling in your gut. You had never been so soaked.

Seonghwa left so quickly. If he had stayed any longer, he for sure would have had his way with you regardless of whether anyone was in the other room. He’d make you scream just so they could hear. But he had manners, ones that he was slowly forgetting more and more each time he laid eyes on you. He sat in the front of the class behind his desk, eyes void as he tried his best not to think of how pretty you looked, arched over the sink. Hair a hot mess, body trembling, taking what he gave you like a good girl.

His foot tapped against the ground impatiently, and finally. 9 pm. The students gathered their things, waved their goodbyes, and slowly filed out of the studio. The lights were turned off, and the rain beat against the windows harder.

You were sure it had been 10 minutes. Slowly, you opened the door and peeked into the hall. Silence. Shutting the bathroom door, you turned the corner and began walking to the studio entrance. You hesitated, just a moment. Preparing yourself.

You placed your hand on the knob, twisted it, and pushed it open. You got one foot through the door when Seonghwa grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside, shutting the door and shoving you against it. Like an animal, he gave you no time to react, burying his hands in your hair and slotting his lips with yours.

“Finally..” he moaned, pressing his body against yours, rendering you helpless against the wall. You kissed back with just as much fervor, free to be as loud as you want. 

“Not enough,” he snarled, hands holding your waist as he picked you up, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you to his desk. Carelessly swiping the papers and such off as he set on the surface, his lips not once parting from yours. His hand slipped between our bodies, tracing down your stomach and landing on the button of your pants.

“Want these off, honey?” He whispered into your mouth, laughing softly at your frantic nods.

“Please, yes please…” His fingers danced along the hem, unbuttoning them slowly, slipping them down and off your legs. His kisses moved lower, mapping a trail down your body until he had sunk onto his knees, dragging his lips along the insides of your thighs. 

You looked down at him, his eyes never leaving yours and he placed a soft kiss against your clit through the thin lace of your panties. Your thighs shook, and his big hands spread them open for him, keeping them open with a strong grip.

“Hwa… please…. No more teasing.” He smiled and placed a rougher kiss against your clothed cunt. 

“I’ll tease you all I want, sweetheart, if you keep giving me such cute reactions.” His tongue fell out of his mouth, flattening against you as he dragged a long, stripe up your cunt, smiling when your whole body shivered at his touch.

“Such a responsive baby. I knew you’d be so good for me. Want these off too? Want to feel my tongue against that pretty pussy huh?” You were so fogged in the head, shame way past, with the only feeling you had was needed. Pure and unbridled need for him to fuck you stupid.

“Yes, fuck Seonghwa please!” His thumb hooked along the waistband, dragging your underwear down your legs and stuffing them in his pocket. The cold hit your cunt, soaked and throbbing for him.

“Uh huh.” His own voice shook with need, unable to pull his eyes away from you. “Don’t worry, I got you. I’ll take care of you.” Seonghwa’s hands curled around your thighs, keeping them steady as he kissed your clit, so softly, then wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

Immediately, your body pulled taught and your brain felt like it had been shocked, a deep, guttural moan escaping. His hands dug into your thighs like he was holding himself back, losing himself in your taste, drowning between your thighs.

“Fuck baby.” His tongue drew impossible patterns around your clit, one hand moving from your thighs to trace a finger up your soaked slit, gathering your wetness and teasing.

“I’ll fuck you open on my fingers and you’ll take it like a perfect slut right? You’re gonna take it for me?” You nodded, words fleeting and hard to grasp as you focused on the way he touched you. Like he’s known your body for eternity, knowing what buttons to press and what words to say to get your stomach fluttering.

With ease that should have been embarrassing, he slipped his fingers inside your warm cunt, immediately curling them to press against that spot that made your vision go white and your breath catch, all the while his mouth was relentless on your clit.

“Don’t talk, honey, just feel. Moan nice and loud, let me know I’m doing a good job, okay?” He hummed around your clit, sending pleasure ridden vibrations though you that made your back arch and your fists clench. Your hands flew forward and gripped his hair, grinding themselves against his mouth as his fingers dragged in and out of you so delicately, slowly, applying just enough pressure to have you tumbling towards your orgasm fast.

Your head fell back, biting your bottom lip as you continued to grind against his face. “Fuck, cummng Seonghwa…” His tongue only licked faster, his fingers pressing harder inside of you.

Suddenly, his fingers slowed and he pulled off of your clit, a depraved groan slipping from him. You whined in disappointment, so close to falling off the edge.

“Why…?” You whined, desperation lining your voice. He only smiled and placed gentle kisses on your inner thighs. 

“Beg,” Seonghwa stated simply, his voice breathless. “If you want it so fucking bad then beg for it princess.” Suddenly, the humiliation was setting in, but not enough for you to not beg.

He rested his cheek against your thighs lazily, looking up at you like you were the most stunning thing he had ever laid eyes on. “Nice and loud. Let me hear you. Beg like if I don’t let you cum you’ll die. Let me know how badly you need it.”

And you did. “Please Seonghwa, please I need you to fucking ruin me. Please, I’ll do anything. Please make me feel so good that I die, please.” So pathetic. So whiny and so desperate, exactly how Seonghwa liked it. Before you could continue he buried his face inbwtewen your thighs again, this time slipping his surprisingly longue tongue inside of you, fucking you eith his tongue. His fingers pinched your clit, rubbing it between his fingers and making noises so sinful, the sound of his voice was almost enough to make you shatter into a million pieces.

“You beg so beautifully for me, baby, cmon. Fall apart. Cum for me. You’ve earned it.” Your whole body shook as your orgasm overtook you, the grip on his hair impossibly tight. He groaned into your cunt from the pain in his scalp, which only spurred him on further. He wasn't stopping until he was done.

He continued to eat you like a man starved, even as overstimulation throbbed in your cunt. 

“Fuck Hwa, let up, too much!” he laughed at your pleas, kissing your clit one last time before standing, his tongue coming out to clean you off his lips. He brought his fingers to his mouth, his tongue delving between and licking your slick off himself. Dragging his tongue from the bottom of his wrist and up to his fingertips, eyes boring into yours.

Pulling off his fingers with a loud pop, he ripped his shirt off his body, his pants following right behind. His chest was beautifully toned, a honey gold that was good enough to eat. The dips and shadows in his abs that were so smooth you had the urge to sit on his stomach and grind against it.

But he didn’t give you time, before he grabbed your thighs pulling you to the edge of the desk, slotting himself between your legs and pulling his cock from his boxers, letting them fall to the floor and kicking them off his legs.

Teasingly, he slipped your shirt off your body, hands squeezing your waist, swallowing your lips in slow, deep kisses. 

He slid his cock through your soaked cunt, slicking the length of it up with your wetness. “Oh baby can’t wait to have you go dumb on my dick. Want me inside?’

Your arms circled around his back, nails dragging angry red stripes along his shoulder blades. 

“Yes Seonghwa, I’m all yours fuck me stupid, please you’re all I can think about…” Of course this only stirred his ego up more, his cock jumping in response to the pure need in your tone.

“Alright, baby, you’ll get what you want. Relax, loosen up for me and just feel…” 

He pulled his hips back, pressing his tip against your entrance. “Nice and slow, baby…” He pressed inside, and inch by inch, sinking into your cunt. He groaned, savoiring the feeling, wanting to drag it out for as long as possible before he lost himself and fucked you like he’d never fuck again.

Full was an understatement. You could feel every vein, the heat was burning inside of you, igniting a fire in your stomach that made your hips move on their own, rolling forward to take him deeper. He moans, unfiltered and dripping with want.

“That's it, love, that's it right there. Feeling full?” You moan into his mouth, he sucking your bottom lips into his mouth and savoring your warmth. When he bottomed out, he didn’t move, just feeling you clench and pulse around him.

“Such a creature of wonder you are, gorgeous.” He whispered, words waxing poetic, your head swimming at his praise. “I love the way you shake, the way you cry…” He pulled his hips back slowly, the slick sound vile…

And with a deep thrust, he knocked the wind from your lungs. Your back arched, and your nails bit into his skin harder. “Like it when I take you slow honey? Like it sensual, deep, all-consuming, huh?” 

You moaned in response as he found a rhythm, rolling his hips into you, dragging perfectly against your G-spot in a way that could have you passing out at any moment.

“Oh.. fuck Hwa….” your brows furrowed feeling so full each time he slipped out of you and thrusted right back in like he couldn’t stand being anywhere except inside of you.

“You…fuck..” He groaned, feeling himself losing it. “You minx. Look what you do to me.” A thrust so hard it shook the desk, you yelped, throwing your head back. Seonghwa took this opportunity to attach his lips to your exposed throat, no doubt littering you with dark, possessive marks,

“Mine, mine mine all fucking mine. R-right? You all mine, baby?”  Seonghwa's hips rolled into you deeper, like a second too long away from you would kill him.

“Yes Seonghwa yours, fuck, yours..”  His hands enveloped your waist, so big and so rough, feeling your stretch marks, his tongue tracing your collar bone, his thick cock sliding in and out so smoothly. 

“Wet little slut, all for me. Can’t get enough. Lean back, cmon.” You leaned back on the desk, elbows propped so you could keep your eyes on him. His hands holding your waist, his thumbs pressing into your abdomen as he rolled his hips in that delicious way again that made your thighs tremble.

“Gonna fuck you like I hate you mkay?” He whined, rubbing your stomach softly. “Take it.” And with a tough snap of his hips, he kept true to his words,

Seonghwa bullied his cock into your guts like he wanted to hurt you. Rough, sloppy, deep. And you took it.

“Look at you, take what I give you like it's all you deserve. Fucking beautiful.” He let his head fall back as he fucked you, your moans sweet music to his ears. Your broken sounds alternate between gasps for breath and whines of his name.

Relentless, feral, mean. He fucked you like your moans were a drug, hs greatest addiction.

“Fuck Seonghwa, gonna cum.” He laughed, your pathetic whines spurring him on to push you off that cliff, ruin you for any other man. He wants you crawling back to him. Begging him to mold you, to put you on your knees and show you just what it means to belong to someone. Belong to him.

“Dumb baby, gonna cum for me again?” Seonghwa pouted faxuly. You nod, mouth open, only staggering breaths and quiet whines coming out. Your eyelids fluttered and your stomach clenched as you approached that inevitable edge. He pulled you back up by your throat, crashing his lips into yours, nipping at your tongue, and moaning into your mouth. When he pulled from your lips, he pressed them against your ear, blowing air on the shell and nipping at the lobe.

“Then fucking cum (Name.).” Seonghwa moaned, the words traveling straight to your cunt. “Cum on my cock and scream like I’m God.” 

Your legs twitched, your eyes tunneled, and you came hard. Seonghwa did not let up, in fact he fucked you harder, dragging you through your orgasm like it didn’t just nearly knock you out.

“Fuck!” you squealed, legs going limp as he held you against his body, still fucking you without abandon.

“Good job baby, good fucking girl.” He praised you, soft like his cock wasn’t turning you inside out. “Gonna cum inside of this pretty cunt. Take it, take it like you’ve been taking me so good all night.”

His hips stuttered and with a final, deep thrust, he groaned, kissing you like you might disappear, as he slowly fucking his cum deep inside of you, being sure not a single drop went to waste.

You both stayed like that for a long while, savoring each other's pleasure and letting your breaths mingle in tandem, existing in each other’s presence. His hands gently caressed your waist, soothing your body and just feeling your skin.

“Still with me?” He mumbled, pressing gentle kisses along your shoulder and massaging your body like you might break in his hold.

“Yeah..” You croaked, voice strained and body exhausted. He smiled against your neck and breathed you in. 

“Could you go for one more?” Seonghwa teased.

“Are you insane? I think you broke me.” He laughed, kissing your lips slowly, smiling against you, and caressing your neck gently, rubbing the tension out of it. 

Reluctantly, he slipped out of you, groaning and the loss of your warmth. “Cmon, let's get you dressed and I’ll take you home.” His voice soft and alluring, he helped you stand and cleaned you up, kissing up your legs as he wiped you clean and, like the gentleman he was, slipping your clothes back on and pampering you like you deserved.

“You’re dangerous,” Seonghwa whispered as he walked you down the sidewalk back to your townhome, hand interlaced with yours while the other held an umbrella over both of you.

The streets were quiet, well into the night, as he walked you home, his thumb rubbing your hand soothingly.

“You too.” You teased me. “But trust, I'll be in class next Sunday.” His smile widened at your words, stopping in front of your home and turning to face you.

“I do hope I’ll see you sooner, though. Dinner sometime, maybe?” Your cheeks flushed, and suddenly you were shyer than you had been all night.

“How could I say no to such a face?” You embraced, sharing one last kiss, before he walked you to your door.

“Catch you later, teach.” You stood in your doorway, heart fluttering as he looked at you with pure adoration.

“See you soon, (Name),” Seonghwa replied, eyes soft, placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, before turning and descending the steps back out into the rain. And your door shut, signifying the beginning to that passion you’ve been craving oh so badly.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

[mischievousmoony]

𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑… 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 (𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝)

⟢ pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (initial wolfstar & lily x reader) ⟢ summary: james is the sun, the center of the universe, of course when you realize how brightly he shines you can't help but fight over him. it comes unexpectedly, the way it brings you all together ⊹ 3.6k ⟢ warnings: suggestive content/mature themes, hogwarts is a university these characters are in their 20s, poly!marauders, confident!reader, not proofread

note: the dialogue is cringe i fear... this is another one i wrote for fun in the notes app before i started being active on here again

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

At first, James thought it was jealousy. When he saw you kiss Lily goodbye at the portrait hole, he felt it for the first time. He couldn’t really tell who he felt it for, though. But then he felt it again, this time when he found Remus and Sirius cuddling in their shared dorm, and he’d chalked it up to being jealous that his friends were in happy relationships whilst he was alone. 

He tried flirting with other people, thinking a relationship of his own would cure these feelings. In his endeavors, James found that flirting was something he’s actually quite good at. But when he was on the receiving end of flirtatious remarks, he noticed his stomach never flipped the way it did for his friends, and all they had to do was say ‘hello’ to make it happen. He even tried to go on a date, but he found himself itching to be back at Gryffindor Tower where you lot were hanging out. 

So, James decided to face the facts. He has a crush… or four, he supposes. But it’s not like romance between him and his friends is unheard of. Other students around Hogwarts used to poke fun at you all for the inter friend group dating, accusing you of things like passing each other around for the fun of it. 

Someone once told Sirius he couldn’t escape the incestuous nature of his family, and that’s when the boys started hexing anyone who made any sort of joke on the topic. Soon enough, people learned to keep their mouths shut. 

But it wasn’t what other students made it seem. You all may have been perceived as a lascivious bunch who couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, but there were deep emotions between some of you that surpassed mere physical attraction. 

James probably had one of the most tame histories, save for Peter, who managed to find a girlfriend outside of the group. In James’ past, there was casual fling with Lily, which both parties wanted to be more, yet neither ever had the courage to say it. The relationship ended when they both inwardly thought they’d be better off letting go than silently yearning for more. Aside from that, James had managed to kiss each of you some way or another, whether it be via drinking games or experimental fun.

As for the rest of you, let’s just say you all did a bit more than kiss some of the other members in your group before you all coupled off. 

You, for example, have dabbled in romance with both Sirius and Remus at different points in time. There was a frenzied night with Remus that had you both longing for more, yet never acting on it. And there was a time where everyone thought you and Sirius would end up together. The tension between you two was once so palpable it pervaded your every interaction and shrouded your awareness of anything but each other. It fizzled after a while of neither of you ever making a real move, but sometimes you both feel it creep back into your conversations like an addiction you couldn’t shake. 

Lily and Remus also had a history. They were together for a while, a saccharine relationship that made those around them equally jealous as they were nauseous. Eventually, they broke it off because they couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. They theorized that they must be better off as friends, but what could’ve been still seems to loom over them. 

And James doesn’t know this, if he found out now he might disintegrate on the spot, but everyone’s fancied him at some point. But there’s something about Potters and their tendency to be oblivious. Everyone’s tried to get out of James’ friend zone and it went quite unnoticed. Lily was the only one who’s ever succeeded, and yet, they let each other become their ones that got away. 

It might be a good thing that James never knew about his friends’ crushes. He probably would’ve turned most of you down, depending on the timing. And that would’ve haunted him now. He already has to deal with the pining and the nerves and the misery of it all. Regret added to that mix would send him over the edge. 

After all, the minute you all walk into the common room his heart is already racing with nerves. 

First came Remus and Sirius, Remus having his arm slung across Sirius’ shoulders. Sirius’ walk is an odd looking shuffle due to the way he presses himself into his boyfriend’s side. 

There’s the pining. James wishes he could be sandwiched between them. He imagines shuffling along, like Sirius, and watching the pace of their footsteps sync up. 

Next, James sees Lily. Beaming, as always. She has a firm grip on your hand as she tows you in after her. You two are giggling about something and James swears he’s never heard anything more beautiful than the way your laughters intertwine. He’d give anything to be included in whatever you two were so charmed by. 

“Hey, Prongs,” Remus greets as they sit on the sofa next to him. Remus’ knees knock against James’. James doesn’t want to think about how much it affects him. 

“Hi Jamie,” you say in a sing song voice, passing in front of him as Lily leads you to sit on the armchair with her. The two of you might as well be on top of each other when you get situated, your legs twisted together.

James shifts in his seat, “Hi,” he rasps, then clears his throat, “Hi guys.” 

“What are you up to?” Lily bats her beautiful, long eyelashes at James.

James picks up a book Peter left on the end table next to him, “Studying,” he lies. What he was really doing was thinking about all of you. He couldn’t exactly disclose that, now could he? 

Lily’s eyes dart down to the cover of the book, “Advanced History of Magic?”

“I thought you dropped that after OWLs?” You wonder aloud. 

James presses his lips into a line while he tries to think of what to say, “Yeah, I, er- I’m not studying for class. I’m studying for pleasure. History is a very important subject.” James internally groans. He curses Peter in his mind for not leaving a better book behind. 

The couples around him seem to share skeptical glances that make James want to walk into the Black Lake, lie down, and drown there. 

James' next words tumble out like a torrent, “It’s actually Peter’s. He was telling me something interesting from his class. Wanted to read up on it myself. Anyway, I should go return this to him. Cheers, guys.”

Before anyone can say anything, James is already speeding off with the book. 

Oh, the misery. James hates how awkward things have become. He’s not usually an awkward person, but being around all four people he’s crushing on is overwhelming, even for him. 

Somewhere in Hogwarts’ halls, James leans against one of the cold stone walls and hugs Peter’s book to his chest. 

What is wrong with me, he thinks. And then he gets a tad arrogant, I’m James Potter! I can handle anything. Even having a thing for my best friends. 

James decides right then and there that he doesn’t want to feel like such a mess anymore. It’s time for a different approach. 

The next time he sees one of you, he thinks to himself, you know how to be confident, James, you’ve done it before. And so he puts on his best act. 

But for some reason, acting confident translated into constantly flirting with all of his friends. He really had no intention of doing that, it’s not like he actually wanted to get with any of you. He’d never want to try to interfere in your relationships. But for some reason, as his words tumbled out with amorous undertones and romantic implications, the negative emotions tumbled away too. So he kind of just kept doing it. 

From then on, your interactions with James have gone much more smoothly. Admittedly, they were also much more intoxicating. 

One day after Quidditch practice, James finds you and Lily wrapped up in each other’s arms on the sofa. Your arms are around Lily’s waist as you both watch the crackle of the fireplace before you. The sofa’s back cushions lay strewn across the floor to accommodate the space the two of you take up. 

With a grin fitting his face, James approaches the sofa. 

“Hey,” he calls on his approach. The two of you shift onto your backs to look in the direction of James’ voice behind you. When he arrives, he leans his forearms on the back of the sofa, one folded over the other, and hovers above you two, “Lily, Y/N.” He greets. 

“Hi James,” Lily says on behalf of you both. 

James eyes leisurely drift along the length of the couch and back up again, “Don’t you two look cozy.”

“Sure are,” Lily grins lazily, “If there were any more room on here we’d invite you to join,” your girlfriend jokes. 

“That’s alright, doll,” James says with a lopsided smile. He then leans in closer to you, and you notice the sparkling reflection of the firelight in his eyes. He lowers his voice to a whisper as if he’s telling you a secret, “Next time.” His voice comes out like silk and his eye contact is unwavering. You find it too intoxicating to even blink.

Your lips part slightly, and you can hear Lily’s breath get caught in her throat. It was just two words, it really shouldn’t have affected you two so much. Maybe it’s the way he said them… or maybe it’s just James. James, whose tousled hair is sticking to his forehead still from a strenuous practice and whose lips are only centimeters away. 

A moment of silence passes between you three before James straightens out his spine, standing with his hands resting where his forearms previously were. 

His fingers pitter patter against the sofa back, “I’m off to shower…” James says, “Save me a seat at dinner?”

Without waiting for a reply, James walks towards the boys dormitories. You both watch James disappear up the stairs. When you look at Lily, you find her face flushed. You wiggle your eyebrows and she slaps you on the arm, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. Her hand lingers, then trails down to fit into yours. She discovers a sweaty palm, and now she’s the one raising her eyebrows. 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

A few days later, Remus and Sirius find themselves in a similar situation. 

The three Marauders found themselves running for their lives from Filch after attempting to pull a prank without their fourth, who had to bail last minute. They had to rethink the plan on the spot without the extra set of hands, and found themselves nearly getting caught. 

Luckily, Remus knew this area of the castle intimately from his prefects rounds, and found them a room to hide in. 

The boys tumble inside. Sirius and James find themselves with their backs to the nearest wall, both heaving to catch their breaths. Remus locks the door behind them, and releases a shocked laugh as he backs into the room. 

“Quick thinking, Rem. I wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve.” James says, his tone suggestive. 

“Oi!” Sirius exclaims while Remus flushes. Sirius looks a bit amused, but still feels a bit territorial too. 

James swivels to face Sirius, his body not coming out of contact with the wall. He leans his forearm on the stones above Sirius’ head. Being a bit shorter, Sirius has to look up at James as he leans in ever so slightly, “Don’t worry, Sirius. I find your secrets just as intriguing.” 

Territorial feelings cured. Sirius tries to place the feelings that replaced them and… oh. His head snaps towards his boyfriend, who looks downright besotted with the display in front of him. 

James maintains eye contact and a confident smirk as lets his arm slide down the wall until his palm is flat against it, level with Sirius’ head. He gives the wall a gently pat, then abruptly turns away. 

He takes a single step towards Remus, “I have a sneaking suspicion Filch is still lurking in the area. I’ve got the cloak, so I’m off to be your knight in shining armor and cause a distraction.” James winks, and then he’s out the door. 

The pair of boys that were left behind watch the door thoughtfully for a few moments. 

Sirius’ tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he prepares himself to make a bold suggestion. 

“Hey Moony?” he asks. 

“Yeah?” Remus responds breathlessly. 

“Hear me out about something…” Sirius trails off, still looking in the direction James left in. 

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

A week later, you and Lily enter the common room in search of your messy-haired friend. He spots you two before either of you find him. 

“If it isn’t my favorite girls,” James waves you both over to where he is seated, which is a small table by the window. Remus and Sirius, who look a bit peeved to have James’ attention drawn away from them, are sitting across from him. 

“What brings you here?” James asks when you arrive at his side, “It’s date night, if I’m not mistaken, isn’t it?” 

You share a look with Lily, “Yes, actually, we’re just about to head off to Hogsmeade.” 

Lily rests a hand on James’ shoulder, “But we were thinking… we’d love it if you’d join us.” 

While the confusion on James’ face starts to soften into understanding, Sirius chokes on his own spit. His voice is strained as he holds back from coughing, “James is busy.”

Your eyes dart to Sirius, “Is he?” then back to James. “Couldn’t you make some time?” You bat your eyes at him. 

Sirius looks horrified, “We have some— Marauders only!— business to attend to. James was just about to accept our invitation, isn’t that right, Prongs?”

“Uhh, I-” James sputters, wildly taken aback by what’s happening. What is happening? 

“Well why don’t you two just invite Peter,” you suggest callously as Lily’s grip on James’ shoulder turns possessive. 

“This isn’t the kind of business we want to invite Peter to. We want James.” Sirius’ eyes narrow. 

You furrow your brows at Sirius’ words and it takes a moment for the meaning of them to sink in. Your features harden as Sirius and Remus suddenly go from friends to competitors. 

“Well I guess you’re out of luck, then.” You say, squinting down at Sirius, “I think James is going to want to come with us.”

Sirius didn’t much like the way you looked down on him, so he brought himself up to his feet where he could tower over you. 

“It’s cute that you think so, but we’re closer to James than anyone. James is our best friend.”

“And I think it’ll be staying that way.” 

“I beg to differ.” Sirius counters, his tone laced with arrogance. 

James’ jaw goes slack at the implication.

“If you're going to beg I prefer that you get on your knees first.” Your voice is dripping with mockery, challenge, and something else that takes everyone a moment to decipher. 

It’s something familiar, a certain tension that’s proving once again to have never fully gone away. It flashes in Sirius’ eyes too, his fiery gaze wavering to give way for a fervent expression. 

The sudden shift in tone sent an electric shock through the three onlookers, James’ jaw dropping impossibly lower.

“Trust me, doll. Where I’m involved, I’m not the one who’s gonna be begging on their knees.” 

Remus somehow looks like he’s enjoying this, which should be unusual for a guy watching his boyfriend flirt with someone else. He’s leaned back in his seat, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips, as his eyes dart between each of his friends. 

“What’s happening,” James chokes out, the nerves he expelled weeks ago suddenly bubbling back up again. 

No one answers James. Remus is having too much fun and you are too busy staring down Sirius. Lily joins you, inching closer to both you and him as she leans over your shoulder, her body pressing into your back. 

“Oh, he’s lying, don’t you think?” She says, her voice velvety smooth. 

“Certainly so. I have it on good authority that he’s the type to want to be in charge,” you jut your chin toward Remus, whose gaze you meet while memories of each other swirl around in your minds, bringing matching twinkles to your eyes. 

“Can-? Can I interject?” James takes a shot at cutting through the tension, his voice cracking.  

“Of course, Jamie,” you turn your head from Sirius to look at him but a soft hand pinching your chin gently turns you right back. 

“Eyes on me, dollface, I’m not done with you,” Sirius says firmly, as if proving how commanding he can be. 

A choked noise emits from James’ throat and it’s not clear if it’s in protest of being cast aside again or a direct reaction to the way Sirius is handling you. 

Remus inches his hand towards James’, bumping his pinky into his. “Sit tight, I want to see where this goes,” he tells him. 

“See? So effortlessly commanding,” you vocalize to Lily, a hungry look in your eyes as they flick to Remus. 

Sirius’ possessive nature flares up. “This has been real cute, but you can you can back off of them now,” Sirius say, referring to both his boyfriend and James. 

Your eyes dart back to Sirius and that hungry sort of look doesn’t falter, “Want me to focus on you, do you? Ddon’t worry, baby, I can multitask.”

“Let's cut to the chase, are you two about to fight or kiss?” James defies Remus’ command to sit tight, suddenly speaking boldly, regaining his confidence from either sheer will or impatience, “Either is fine, I suppose, as long as you continue to let me watch.”

“I second that,” Remus agrees at once. 

“Third,” Lily chimes in, “though I’d prefer to see the ladder.” 

As James words sink in, it brings you back down to reality, that familiar veil of tension that shrouds your better judgment lifting. 

Worry filters in first, your actions suddenly feeling inappropriate. That they were, but you’re less worried about the nature of your actions and more so the fact that you behaved in such away with someone else right in front of your girlfriend. When you look at her, you’re met with a sly countenance that reminds you she was an active participant. 

You’re not the only one having inner turmoil after the racy display, a silence that’s tense for different reasons washing over you all. Everyone seems to be contemplating the implications of what just happened and how you all so fondly reacted to it. 

Lily is the one to cut through the silence first. 

“You know… I wouldn’t mind if all three of you joined us,” Lily tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as she asks “Do you, Lovie?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all,” your words coming out like a plea when you respond. 

Remus carefully stands from his seat, approaching Sirius with revere and settling his arm across his shoulder. His free hand extends to you, which you take without hesitation. His tender touch sends shivers up your spine. 

Your four sets of eyes drift to James, who’s still in his seat trying to process what’s going on. When it sinks that this is real life, he looks back at you all like you’re a newfound treasure. 

It’s instant, the way the feelings that never went away metamorphosize into something beautiful and new. And it’s an adjustment, for sure, but you all lean into it with surprising ease. 

The rumors fly, of course, when your peers start to take notice of the way things have changed. No amount of previous hexing scares them away from jumping to their conclusions and spreading their rumors. This time around, you’re all too enamored with each other to care much about what people say, but you do find it pitiful that they could never understand. But some witnesses to the loving little touches and soft remarks between each of you and all of you find that it makes sense now—all of you were destined from the start. 

For you have always been drawn to each other. It’s why you constantly gravitated from one to the next, the pull from those you left behind never really going away. 

It feels like a dream the way you all settle back into place with each other. James looks at you all in disbelief everyday. He couldn't have imagined a more perfect solution to his previously helpless pining.

You're quite pleased as well, the longing for what you never had with each of your boys finally resolved.

And Lily and Remus share a look some days, eyes twinkling, finding comfort in knowing now what their missing piece was. Or rather, pieces. 

“Well, I think I can pinpoint now why all of our relationships kept not working out,” Lily tells him once, in the very beginning. You’re all strolling around outdoors, basking in the sun, still shyly navigating through the newness of it all. 

The knuckles of your left hand fondly brush against those on James’ right. Lily walks alongside you, Remus on the end next to her. And Sirius has fallen behind purposefully, admiring the way the four of you look together. 

“Why’s that, Dove?” Remus asks. 

“Greed,” Sirius interjects, an impish grin dances on his lips as he jogs up to join you all again. He squeezes between you and Lily, slinging his arms around you both.

Sirius nuzzles his nose into the side of your face, “But who’s to say we can’t have it all?” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[brittle-doughie]

The Deal with Ancients V2 (Golden Cheese/White Lily Cookie)

About time I wrapped up the original post with these two. I tried dabbling some of the main story here too.

Golden Cheese Cookie

You, who reigns from the throne of gold. Blessed to bask in opulence and splendor.

Golden one, your coffers gold riches unparalleled. Does your insatiable greed match the infiniteness of your life?

A choice is awaiting you…

———————————————————————

You had set out on a journey with the Brave gang alongside Adventurer and Black Raisin Cookie on a mission to find the Golden Cheese Kingdom and deliver the letter he wrote for her. It was proving to be difficult with little map direction and the desert sun making long travel even more challenging. After many tribulations and running into a fairly enthusiastic archeologist, Olive Cookie, you had finally managed to reach the gates, where a gatekeeper was waiting.

He called himself Burnt Cheese Cookie, the keeper of the gates. In order to make it through, he asks that you complete a set of trials ranging from fighting monsters to weighing your souls on the scale. He found your soul to be the brightest among the group’s, a common thing you keep hearing about oddly…

Black Raisin Cookie was protective of you throughout your trek across the Golden City, supercar cookies wanting to take you out to on a night on the town with riches and crystals they want to shower you in to Marzipan Cookies getting too close for comfort when monitoring your group.

It wouldn’t be until the colosseum fight that you captured Golden Cheese Cookie’s interest. You and the group decided to fight the monsters to capture her attention, doing what you do best to bring them down one by one, making the cookies that had bet on you very wealthy. Taken to a cell, the Marzipan Cookies were suddenly given a change of orders. They were to take YOU to Golden Cheese Cookie’s throne room, much to the protests of your group. Black Raisin Cookie constantly demanding on wanting to know where they were taking you! The group would break out and make their way to the throne room, only to see you sitting on her throne’s armrest, lavished in gold!

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Do you like what I’ve done with them? It was only fitting that something as shining as them gets trinkets that equal in value! They simply enjoyed basking in my golden glory. Until now, I had only seen them as yet another one of you outlanders. But having a closer look at them, I can see that they’re worth much and more!”

Black Raisin couldn’t understand the words that were coming from Golden Cheese Cookie. First, she won’t participate in the fight against Dark Enchantress Cookie and now she wanted to hold onto you as if you were a trinket?! She wanted to hold in her frustration as Golden Cheese Cookie whisked you away with her to the Cheese Fondue Springs. She didn’t want you to do anything that would ruin your own radiance, but you weren’t just going to standby and let your friends handle the errors themselves!

To Golden Cheese’s surprise, you abandoned the glamour you wore on your body and helped Brave and the gang fight off the errors all around the city. A mental conflict spurs on within the gleaming goddess, you were going to ruin your crispy dough fighting all over the place light that! Yet, you shined all the same even during the heat of battle, was..was she going about your value all wrong? She stopped protesting your involvement with dealing with errors overtime, content with watching you fight and share in victory with your friends, Black Raisin Cookie was particularly glad to see that you didn’t let all that gold cloud you.

The cheese restaurant would be where Golden Cheese Cookie wanted to express her changed feelings. After having spent time with you and seeing you fight those errors earlier, she saw now that you were worth more than gold.

You: “What do you mean, Golden Cheese Cookie?”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “I see it now that you’re worth more than any amount of gold I can have, Y/N Cookie.”

You: “Oh! That’s…pretty high praise coming from a greedy goddess like you!”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Ha ha! I know! Rather odd, isn’t it? It would be a waste to send you away once you’ve wrapped up your business here. I wish to bestow upon you and your friends a chance to become denizens in my Golden Kingdom! It will allow me to appreciate your true value as a dear friend! You can even bring your family here if you like!”

Y/N Cookie: “But…I already have a home and that’s the Cookie Kingdom! My cookies need me there, Golden Cheese Cookie.”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “The city would be even more perfect than before with you in it! Your greed may be great, but mine is greedier! You’ve already caused quite a ruckus amongst my cookies, I strongly suggest that you think it over!”

The moment would soon be interrupted when Smoked Cheese Cookie attacked, spilling the revelation to the people of the Golden Cheese Kingdom and robbing Golden Cheese Cookie of her soul jam! He couldn’t control the power and everyone falls into the Golden Cheese Temple Dungeons. Her citizens watch as Golden Cheese Cookie fought off the monsters from the sarcophagus, murmuring conflicting feelings amidst themselves.

Black Raisin shared a time similar to the situation and propose the solution to let the Golden City go. Golden Cheese Cookie refused, believing that everything can be fixed and go back to normal, but even you knew that it was an only a temporary solution. Everyone in the group provided their own solutions. Wizard will track down scholar he could, Olive would not publish anything to keep the kingdom a secret and Adventurer would spread rumors to keep explorers away.

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Cookies…”

You: “Golden Cheese Cookie, I and everyone’s greed here would be to help you restore your kingdom again. If we work together, our combined greediness will see your kingdom revived and your citizens return! I promise that whatever you desire, me and the others will do our best to help.”

Golden Cheese Cookie: “Y/N Cookie….my desire was to build a happy and flourishing kingdom without hardships, seeing my followers living happily and freely in my kingdom!”

Her words enter your mind when it was all over, seeing her citizens fade away. You will admit, a few tears were shed especially when the denizens specifically bid you and the group farewell. You weren’t going to give up on them, no matter what.

Golden Cheese Cookie: “I’ve always had a feeling about you, Y/N Cookie. After all this, I’m glad to have that feeling reinforced.”

You: “Hm? What do you mea-HUH!”

Golden Cheese Cookie suddenly brought you into a squeeze!

Golden Cheese Cookie: “That you mean so much to me, ha ha! At first, it was to see you shine just like my gold! I see now that you are much better than that! The Goddess of the Golden Cheese Kingdom shall join you! Let us fight together!”

C-could she let go first?!

White Lily Cookie

Listen to my voice, White Lily Cookie needs your help once again. She must wake up…

So that she may hear my voice once more..

Pure Vanilla Cookie…

Pure Vanilla Cookie!

———————————————————————

You shake your head, there was that voice again in his dreams. It was getting more common as you trekked with Pure Vanilla and the Gingerbrave group towards Beast-Yeast. Seeing you shake your head and clutching it at the land of Beast-Yeast growing closer, Pure Vanilla wanted to ensure that you were alright, he should be more worried for you then his dreams. You were nervous in his eyes about going here, but that was just because this was new territory for you, you’ll get used to this land eventually..right after this crash landing of the airship. That wasn’t going to be cheap to fix…

Following the path lead you all to some Light of Freedom fragments, and with that came memories of White Lily Cookie long ago in this land. Yeast spores, wanting to see the truth of how Cookies came be. If only she knew what such curiosity would lead her to doing. This other dream, White Lily helping Silverbell Cookie, a Faerie Cookie…and this Elder Faerie. Just who were these cookies?

Silverbell Cookie: “Who goes there! Outlanders, how did you find this place! What business do you have in Faeriewood?”

You: “Woah, hold on there! We mean no harm, we simply want to explore Beast-Yeast in pursuit of what Dark Enchantress Cookie is up to!

Silverbell Cookie: “H-huh? Was that…No! Shallow excuses hold no sway here! You are not welcome in our land!”

Wizard Cookie: “Well, we tried…”

You: “Hang on, Silverbell Cookie. What about White Lily Cookie? Did you let her into your kingdom a long time ago?”

Silverbell Cookie: “Y-you know my name and White Lily Cookie? Hold on, are you the friends of White Lily Cookie?”

It would be where you’d find yourself in the Faerie Kingdom after Silverbell Cookie led the way and with that, came White Lily Cookie resting in her bed, she..looked exactly as she was back in Crispia. As Pure Vanilla heads for the bed, you stop yourself. She’s known Pure Vanilla Cookie before all this, yet you’ve only met her through illusions and shadows. But…your interactions with her felt real, she had to recognize you!

Elder Faerie stood before you all, he saw you all as cookies who bear the fate of the Dessert World before him. He took note of you as a cookie who can bring together cookies and civilizations with a bright heart and an even brighter soul….something he hasn’t seen in a long time..and something he fears that the Five Beast Cookies will want to have for themselves.

These Beast Cookies…they haven’t sound like anything you’ve encountered before, it’s felt like a chill was creeping up your spine. As if he sensed your worry, Elder Faerie reassured you that your friends, along with himself, will make sure that the Beast Cookies cannot rise up again by keeping that seal contained, which only fueled the need to find the memory shards for White Lily Cookie.

You: “I know what you’re planning, Elder Faerie Cookie. You’re important too, would any Cookie’s life powder suffice? What if…I could-“

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Y/N Cookie, no!”

Gingerbrave: We aren’t letting you do that, Y/N Cookie!”

Elder Faerie Cookie: “Your friends are right, Y/N Cookie. I would have to agree as well, you’re important to others for them to see you give up your life. You’re important to her as well…”

You: “Elder Faerie Cookie…”

It was tough seeing Elder Faerie Cookie give up a majority of his life powder, but you saw movement within White Lily Cookie. Her eyes slowly open as she sits up from the bed.

White Lily Cookie: “Where…? Ah!”

Silverbell Cookie: “White Lily Cookie!”

You: “White Lily Cookie, are you alright?”

White Lily Cookie looked at her hands for a moment before slowly turning to look at you.

White Lily Cookie: “Y-Y/N Cookie….?

You: “You recognize me…?”

White Lily Cookie: “I-It’s you!”

She quickly went to hold you close, gripping your back tightly as she held you, wanting to take comfort that she could actually touch you now whereas she was unable to before.

White Lily wasn’t in high spirits for long, feeling like it was all her fault for causing Dark Enchantress Cookie to exist in this world, wanting time alone. You didn’t believe in that, you felt like she needed someone to talk to, the others agreed and suggested that you go to her, White Lily needed your company. You agreed after some hesitation, you decided to give it a go.

You felt like you’ve gotten a little closer with her after the talk, White Lily thought so too! You did ponder on if you would’ve really made an impact on her, that..she could’ve gone a different path if you were around.

But you had little time to hang onto that thought, for you and everyone had a visitor….

“Oooooooh! I see that those pesky little vine shackles that have held us captive for oh so, so, SO long are GONE! Eh heh…he he he he HE HE HE HE HE HE!”

It begins…

[dcxdpdabbles]

can't find the Menace au in the master post. Link 🙏🏼

Yes, sorry, I haven't put anything in the master post for Menace since I haven't written a whole plot for it. I might add on the dabbles ones at a later date. But here are all the pieces so far:

Random :

From a fic I never wrote (What started it)

Ten things Danny the menace has done (Ask/answer)

Au of Danny Menace: Party Animal (Ask/Answer)

Clark meets Danny Fenton-Wayne (Dabble)

Angel Phantom and Menace Danny compression (Ask/Answer)

On sight (Ask/Answer)

What Maddie and Jack did (Ask/Answer )

Interviewer's bad day (Ask/Answer)

School fight (Dabble)

Phantom and Danny's appearance (Ask/Answer)

Clark interviews Danny Fenton-Wayne (Dabble)

Where is Vlad? (Ask/Answer)

Danny the menace's dating life

Protective siblings (Ask/Answer)

Protective Older brother (Ask/Answer)

Danny's thoughts on Bruce's exes (Ask/Answer)

Protective Siblings Part 2 (Ask/Answer)

Protective Older Brother part 2 (Ask/Answer)

Fenton-Wayne is too hot (Dabble)

No Amity Park ship (Ask/Answer)

The Ex faces younger siblings' wrath (Ask/Answer)

The first Boyfriend (Small Dabble)

Forever Alone?? (Ask/Answer)

[crescenthistory]

You and I, We’ve Grown Comfortable Here

Pairing: Lee x Reader

Summary: Two outcasts with nowhere to go decides to go nowhere together. In each other they find shelter, acceptance, intrigue and a bond neither expected to go as deep as it does.

Words: 13.6k

Warnings: not proofread, basically five fics in one (a year of their relationship developing), assault, hints at sexual assault, implied attempted rape, death, murder, cannibalism (bones&all hello), make-out sessions, blood, implied smut(?), panic attacks, implied abusive parents, kicked out of home, living in a car, crying, angst, slow burn, cannibals in love, hurt/much comfort, happy ending, lee's truck being a character in and of itself

A/N: i am so unwell, i wrote this whole thing in the span of ONE day. this man makes me unwell. anyway, if i ever write any other fics or drabbles for lee, unless otherwise specified, presume it is based on this background because i am obsessed with these two.

***

When you saw the headlights, your heart caught in your throat just a little. It was late, too late to be out walking down a relatively abandoned countryroad, too late to even be awake. With only the stars for company, you were dragging your feet as you were walking in the hopes of hitting a camping site soon. You had heard good rumours of one not far away from the town you are putting in your rearview mirror. Metaphorically of course, with no driving liscense or car, all you had to get from one place to another were your shoes and your bravery.

It had been a couple of months since you left home. Whenever you had the opportunity to sleep, you could still hear the shouting and the slamming of doors when your father finally threw you out for good. The home in question had never felt safe for you anyway, you had never fit into the small town cookie cutter they tried to press you into, even when it drew blood.

After all that, you might be best off alone you concluded, and have stuck to that as you made your way through the US. There was nowhere in particular you wanted to go, you just did not want to be tied down anywhere. You wanted to see, explore and feel.

You had been dabbling in hitchhiking over the months, always sending a silent prayer to gods you did not believe in before getting into the strange cars. With a knife always in the pocket of your hoodie, you felt relatively secure that you could defend yourself if worse comes to worse. Yet you knew you can never truly know. You tried to keep your head on you still.

There had not been any cars on the road you were currently occupying for the past two hours. It had, for a glorious moment, felt like yours. Just you and the pavement and the night. So, when the headlights lit you up for behind, you grew a bit weary. Part of you wanted to jump in it, unsure of how long you had left until the campsite, tired to the bone, but you knew you shouldn’t at this hour.

But you were also so incredibly tired.

The rumble of the engine neared closer and the driver dimmed the headlights. On your left, the car drove into view, an old beat up truck, and it was slowing down to stop beside you. Leaning over the passenger seat, a young man peered out through the rolled down window, a messy head of freshly dyed hair shining like a beacon in the dark. He watched you with a face torn between curios and cautious.

“You good?” he called out, trying to be heard over the noise of his car.

You didn’t answer right away. Instinct told you to keep walking, to keep your head down and stay invisible like you’d been doing all night. But something about him made you stop.

You squinted through the light. “What do you think?”

He let out a breathy laugh, the kind that was more habit than humor. "Yeah, didn’t think so." His voice was rough, not unfriendly, but sharp around the edges. He glanced down the empty road and then back at you. "Need a ride or something?"

Every ride so far had been a risk, a quiet leap of faith, and it wasn’t like you had a good track record with trusting people. Your parents had made sure of that, kicking you out like it was nothing, like you were the problem for being too loud, too you.

Still, you couldn’t keep walking forever. And there was something intriguing about this boy, out here alone in the night, just like you.

“I guess that’s where we’re at tonight,” was your response, and he nodded immediately with a halfsmile.

“Fair enough. Where you headed?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“Same,” he said, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other across the empty road. Something about him felt different — like he wasn’t just another passerby. You weren’t scared. Maybe that should’ve worried you.

He threw the passenger side door open. “You coming, or what?”

"Depends," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You a serial killer or something?"

He smirked, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes, something guarded. "Not tonight."

"Comforting," you deadpanned, but you found yourself stepping closer to the truck anyway.

He watched you climb in with a kind of steady calm, like he was waiting for you to make the call. There wasn’t an ounce of threat in him, no leering or weird comments, just quiet, detached curiosity.

The truck smelled faintly of gasoline and something else, something metallic that made the back of your throat tighten, but you ignored it. There was a quiet ease to him, though, like he wasn’t thinking of you as prey – like he wasn’t thinking of you at all, really. He just… was. And it felt like enough.

The silence stretched between you as the truck rumbled down the road. Finally, you turned to him, curiosity itching at your thoughts.

“So, you pick up girls off the side of the road often, or am I just lucky?”

He gave you a side glance, something like amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “Lucky’s a word for it.”

There was something raw in his eyes when he said it, a guarded edge you recognized. You didn’t push it. 

“I heard there is a campsite in the town over, I was thinking of maybe staying the night there,” you said, not wanting him to feel stuck with you in the car forever.

“The Meadows Site? Yeah, I was actually thinking of parking there for the night myself,” he said, giving you a curious glance before looking back to the road. “But it is a few more hours off.”

“Wow, I really am lucky you picked me up then.”

He snorted at that, a sound you somehow hadn’t expected to escape from him, but was amused to hear. You didn’t feel a need to chat further at the moment, and didn’t get the impression he did either. It was not uncomfortable though, the opposite actually. The atmosphere in his truck was comforting, to the point where you would almost fall asleep, though you really should not. Still, there was one thing left to ask.

“What’s your name, kind stranger?” you quipped, teasing tone evident in your voice. He smiled fully then, relaxing more into his seat.

“Lee. And yours, lucky girl?”

You told him your name and settled back into your seat yourself, watching the stars blur into the dark as the truck carried you further and further from everything you’d ever known.

***

It turned out you both had nowhere to go. No one waiting for you at the end of the line. No real reason for him to drive off without you the morning after your night spent in Meadows Site. He had borrowed you a blanket to lay on, thicker than the one you had been surviving on for a while now. After eating breakfast at a shop nearby that he showed you, clearly more familiar in the area than you, it just made sense to get back into the truck with him. That’s how you both rationalised it, as your eyes sparked with interest and entertainment whenever they met. Just made sense.

From that day, Lee’s truck became the closest you had had to a home in months. Maybe even years.

The miles between you and the world grew, but so did the distance between you and the versions of yourselves you left behind. You had nothing to offer each other apart from company, and nothing to lose from spending your days with one another. 

It became easy, almost too easy. Long stretches of road, music humming through the truck's radio, filling the space between the two of you. Conversations about nothing that meant everything — favorite songs, old memories that still hurt, silly stories from childhood, tragedies that were so massive it became intrinsically hilarious to you both, Stories you told in the dead of night when the world felt softer, more forgiving. 

Lee felt true in a way no other had. His company was comfortable, natural. A genuine friend that you could tease, maybe even flirt with a little when the mood struck. Nothing serious you would say. All in good fun, teenagers cruising through the Midwestern countryside.

It felt like forever, though it had only been a few weeks. The truck was a much better bed than the thin blanket you had relied on since you left the house you grew up in. You’d sleep in the backseat, sometimes curled up in the trunk with blankets piled up like a nest. On rare occasions, when exhaustion weighed you both down, you’d spring for a cheap motel, a temporary reprieve from the road.

The more you got to know Lee, the more that sense you had gotten about him on the night you met grew. Something was different about him, something you could taste on your tongue, a kind of unspoken understanding that simmered beneath the surface. You couldn’t explain it, not exactly, but there was something in Lee that reminded you of someone else. It wasn’t just the way he moved or the sharp look in his eyes – it was the way he held himself, the way he watched people, sizing them up like he knew more about them than they’d ever want to know.

You had known someone like that before.

Your uncle.

Your family never talked about him, not after he disappeared, but you remembered the day it happened like a movie in your mind. The last time you saw him. He had come to visit, just passing through, or so he said. You were young, but not young enough to forget the blood that stained his clothes, how his face was drawn, pale, like he was barely holding it together. How his teeth were off-white in a way you had never seen before. He had brushed it off when you asked him, saying he had gotten into a fight, nothing serious, but the way he smelled… it stuck with you.

The metallic tang of blood, the way it clung to him even after he cleaned up, how his eyes seemed wild and unfocused in the dim light of the kitchen. You could never explain it to someone without sounding insane. But yet somehow, you knew what he was. You knew.

Your parents didn’t say much about it then. They just watched him with wary eyes, their faces tight with something close to fear, though they never admitted it. When he left, they didn’t even look at that, and once he was gone they removed all photographs. They never mention him again, not even when you asked. It was like he had never existed. Like he had never even been part of the family.

You never met someone like him again, someone you could feel deep in your bones.

Until Lee. The Lee you looked at as he drove nonchalantly down roads, almost too relaxed to be sitting in a driver’s seat. He made all those pieces you had tucked away begin to slot together, forming a picture that put words to your instincts. The way your uncle had looked that night, the way your own body sometimes seemed to hum with something restless, it was all there, just waiting for you to acknowledge it.

You did not bring it up to him, it never seemed natural. And honestly, you didn’t feel the need to. For some reason, the idea of it all didn’t bother you. Lee was just Lee still, your road companion.

One night, you and Lee had parked the truck somewhere far off the main road, the stars stretched out like a tapestry above you. It was late, the kind of late where the world felt quieter, where the darkness seemed deeper, more honest. You were lying on a blanket in the bed of the truck, side by side, the silence between you comfortable but heavy, like something was waiting to be said.

The two of you had shared a lot already, more than you thought you had in you to share. He was still technically a strange man to you, it had not yet been a month. Still, you felt a bond with him you could not explain. His presence brought you peace in a world too large for you to grasp.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the way his fingers twitched restlessly by his side, like he was working through something in his head. Lee had been quieter than usual lately, more thoughtful, more distant. You didn’t push him – he was always like that, a little withdrawn when he was trying to sort through whatever was going on in his head. But tonight, it felt different. More pointed.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Do you… know?"

The question caught you off guard. It was so vague, so quiet, that for a second, you weren’t sure if you had heard him right. You turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were still fixed on the stars above, his expression unreadable in the dim light. There was something in his tone, though. Cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you would answer. Like he was afraid to hear it.

You swallowed, your heart picking up speed. "Know what?"

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he shifted slightly, still not looking at you. It seemed like he had hoped you would not ask. He was always careful, always measured with his words, but this time, you could tell he was holding something back. He exhaled slowly, and then, without turning his head, he said it again, this time more direct.

"About me. About what I am."

There was no uncertainty in you about what he was referring to. There it was, the thing you had been skirting around, the thing neither of you had spoken aloud. You knew, deep down, that this conversation had been coming for a while, with all the time you spent together, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt like a stone settling in your chest.

Your mind raced, memories of your uncle flashing through your thoughts, the blood on his hands, the way your parents had never spoken about him again. The way it all lingered in you like electricity. 

You nodded slowly, your voice quiet. "Yeah. I know."

Lee didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, the way his body seemed to coil like a spring, ready to snap. His fingers drummed lightly against the truck bed, a habit he had when he was nervous, though he’d never admit it. 

You wondered how he knew to ask you, if he had seen it in your eyes. You guessed you could ask him. But this moment hung in the air between you with such fragility. It felt like something had shifted irreversibly between you, and you were not yet certain if it was a good thing or not.

When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. "And you… don’t care? Or what? You don’t wanna leave?"

You turned to him fully, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at his face. The starlight cast shadows over his sharp features, but his eyes—his eyes were clear, burning with something raw, something vulnerable he never let anyone else see. They were straining to remain trained on the sky.

"I’m not scared of you, Lee," you said softly, your voice steady but firm. "Or of it. I know who you are. And I know you’re a good person."

Lee’s breath hitched, just for a moment, barely noticeable, but you caught it. His eyes finally flickered toward you, the walls he kept up so carefully starting to crack. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He just stared at you, a thousand thoughts racing behind his eyes, none of them quite making it out.

He swallowed hard, his voice dropping even lower when he finally spoke. "You don’t even know what I’ve done."

"I don’t need to," you said, your gaze locked on his. "I know you. I’ve been with you this long, and I think I have known all along. And I’m still here."

He stared at you for a long moment, his brow furrowed like he couldn’t believe what you were saying, like he was waiting for you to change your mind. But when you didn’t, when you just kept looking at him like none of it scared you, like you weren’t about to run, something in him seemed to shift. The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little, and he let out a slow, shaky breath.

"Why are you not afraid?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You shook your head, almost wanting to laugh. “You’re just Lee to me.”

Lee looked away again, his eyes tracing the stars, but his mind was far from the night sky. The silence stretched between you once more, but this time, it wasn’t heavy with tension. It felt lighter. Like a weight had been lifted, even if he wasn’t ready to say it yet.

You settled back in beside him, arm grazing his. Comfortable. 

For the first time in a long while, Lee let himself relax. He was always aloof, physically all over the place, but his mind remained alert. Now, he let it fall onto the pillow your words provided. He realized then, though he didn’t say it out loud, that the tightness in his chest, the thing he had been fighting for weeks, it wasn’t just nothing. He didn’t want to think the word, let alone say it. It had crept in slowly, so quietly that he hadn’t noticed it until it was staring him in the face. 

Love didn’t feel safe to him. Love was complicated, messy. Dangerous, even. And yet, here you were, sitting beside him, telling him you weren’t afraid, telling him you knew who he was and that it didn’t matter. That you’d stay.

It was a feeling he didn’t know how to name. Not yet.

He turned back to you, his eyes softer now, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re really not gonna leave, huh?"

You laughed a little at how he shared it like a revelation, shaking your head. "Nope. You’re stuck with me."

Lee let out a breathy laugh, a sound that seemed to ease the last bit of tension between you. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since he met you, he felt something close to hope. He didn’t say it, but in that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

"I could get used to that," he murmured, his voice quiet but sincere.

And as the two of you sat there, side by side under the stars, the unspoken understanding between you deepened, solidified. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t afraid. And for Lee, that was enough.

You fell asleep side by side, just you and the stars.

***

Nights passed like that, over weeks and months, with you and him slowly gravitating closer. 

Whether it be in the seats of the truck or the trunk, you always slept near each other. Originally you slept on either side of the trunk, or in each your seat, but as you spent most of your nights talking until either one of you passed out, it just felt natural to be close by.

Waking up with your limbs accidentally having gotten entangled, faces closer than you ever would be when conscious became a norm. The first time it happened, Lee woke first, but did not move until you woke, revelling in the touch of your body against his. Eyes studying your calm face, fully convinced this would be his only opportunity to be this close to you. When you came to, he pretended your movements woke him.

Neither of you spoke of it. There was no need to. Some things didn’t need words.

The more you got used to waking up entangled, the more intimate it became. You would find yourself laying on top of Lee’s chest, or his face would be tucked into the crook of your neck. Once this started happening, you both happened to begin to prefer sleeping in the trunk.

Despite your increasing comfort with each other, the nights were never completely peaceful. Sometimes you would wake up to find him gone, wandering somewhere. It was usually in the aftermath of a nightmare, but you also knew that he sometimes had other reasons for being gone.

You woke up in the middle of the night, the truck’s trunk feeling too empty, too cold. Instinctively, your hand reached over the space where Lee usually lay beside you, but all you felt was the crumpled fabric of his jacket. He wasn’t there. For a few seconds, you blinked in the darkness, groggy, your mind slow to catch up with the situation. The air felt wrong, too still, too quiet. That was when you noticed the faint sounds of movement just beyond the trees, down near the creek.

When possible, you two tried to park near a body of water, so you had the opportunity to wash up. You had also mentioned to Lee how relaxing you found lakes, and he started planning his routes around it after that.

You could hear heavy breathing and splashing by the water. Without thinking, you slipped out of the trunk, pulling on one of Lee’s hoodies he had discarded beside your blankets, and you quietly padded down toward the sounds. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the water, and that was when you saw him.

Lee was crouched near the edge of the creek, his shoulders tense, his hands dipped in the water. The pale light from the moon caught on his skin, but more than that, it illuminated the dark smudges smeared across his neck and arms. Blood.

He had not heard you yet, too focused on what he was doing – trying to scrub the blood away with frantic, almost desperate movements. He was shaking, his body too tense, like he was on the verge of unraveling. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, the material soaked in water and blood. His hair, usually a mess of carefully maintained chaos, stuck to his forehead in sweat-soaked strands.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You just watched him, heart aching at how broken he looked. It wasn’t like the Lee you were used to. This wasn’t the confident, quippy guy who could brush off anything with a smirk. No, this was the other side of him, the side he didn’t let you see. The one that carried all the weight of what he did, of who he was. The one that bled in more ways than just physically.

“Lee?” Your voice was soft, careful. You didn’t want to startle him, but you couldn’t just stand there, watching him like this.

He froze for a moment, his hands stilling in the water. He didn’t look up at you right away, just stared down at his own reflection rippling in the creek. “Go back to the truck,” he said, his voice rough, a little shaky. “I’m fine.”

But you could hear it. He wasn’t fine. Not even close.

A closer look at where he was sitting, you could see that he wasn’t fine physically either, his torn shirt revealing scratches across his upper body, bruises already forming along his arms in the moonlight. Whoever encountered your Lee tonight had put up a fight.

You ignored him, stepping closer, your bare feet sinking into the wet grass near the water’s edge. “You’re hurt.”

He let out a harsh breath, finally looking up at you. His face was pale, a little gaunt under the moonlight. His eyes, usually so sharp and full of something unreadable, were glassy. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, turning back to the water. “I’m just cleaning up.”

But you could see the way his hands trembled, how his movements were too rough, too quick, like he was trying to scrub the guilt away more than the blood. You stepped closer until you were beside him, crouching down at his level.

“Lee, look at me.”

He didn’t. His jaw tightened, and he kept scrubbing, the water turning pink as it mixed with the blood on his skin. 

"Lee," you said again, firmer this time, reaching out to gently touch his arm. 

He finally stopped, his hands hovering just above the surface of the water, but still wouldn’t look at you. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he muttered, voice raw. “You weren’t supposed to—” He cut himself off, his shoulders hunching forward like he was folding into himself. “Shit.”

"What is wrong with me seeing this?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the outline of a bruise forming along his arm. "Why do you have to fix it yourself?"

He swallowed hard, still staring at the water. "Because you don’t need to deal with this. With me. You didn’t sign up for… any of this." His voice wavered at the edges, frustration mixing with exhaustion.

You shook your head, biting back the sting in your own chest. "You think I care about blood? About this? I knew what I was getting into, I told you so. If you’re hurt, I want to help."

He finally looked at you then, his expression flickering with something like disbelief. “You shouldn’t have to… see me like this. Like some… fuckin’ monster. No, no.”

“You’re not a monster,” you said firmly, and you didn’t waver. You tightened your grip on his forearm. You could see the bruises, the blood streaking down his neck in shapes that looked like somebody had scratched at him, put up a fight. You saw the way he clenched his jaw like he was holding everything in, trying not to crack open. You saw the way his eyes flickered with guilt, shame, like he couldn’t stand himself in that moment. The same boy that laughed with you in the car, who played jokes on strangers. Who usually tried to seem totally content with this lifestyle of his.

"Yes, I am," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You don’t… understand what it’s like. To have to do this, to –"

"I don’t have to understand everything," you cut him off, your hand sliding up to his neck, gently brushing through his damp hair. "But I know you. And I know you don’t have to do this alone. That is my choice, and I choose to be here for you."

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment like he was trying to pull himself together. But when he opened them again, you saw the vulnerability in them, the rawness that he tried so hard to keep hidden. He was struggling, fighting to keep himself together, to not fall apart in front of you.

You sat down beside him fully now, your knees brushing his, your hand still resting at the back of his neck. “Let me help.”

He hesitated, his pride fighting against the offer, but he was too tired to resist for long. Slowly, he nodded, his body slumping in defeat as he let you take over.

You helped him take of his torn t-shirt, leaving him bare to reflect the moonlight, and dipped it into the creek. The cold water soaking through the fabric as you carefully brought it back up to his skin, gently wiping away the dried blood from his face, his arms. He winced slightly when you dabbed at a few deeper cuts near his ribs, but he didn’t pull away.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," you said quietly, your eyes focused on cleaning him up. "You don’t have to be strong all the time."

Lee didn’t respond right away. He just watched you, his eyes following the way you moved, the way your touch was soft, careful. He let out a low breath, something like relief mixing with the exhaustion in his voice. “I hate that you’re seeing me like this.”

“Why?” You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re hurt? Or because you’re human?”

He laughed roughly at that, shaking his head slightly. “I haven’t felt human in a long time.”

You paused, your hand stilling for a moment before you continued cleaning the blood from his neck. “You feel human to me.”

He went quiet again, his eyes studying you, the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away from the mess of him. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the gentle ripple of the creek as you worked, the soft splash of water as you wrung out the bloody fabric.

“He-” Lee began but his voice broke. You were patient, continuing to tend to him as he seemed to wrestle with whether to continue the sentence. Eventually: “He was a bad guy. I always try to make sure they are.”

It broke your heart to hear the pleading undertone of what he was saying. What he was trying to convey to you.

You weren’t entirely sure what the best response was, but you settled on telling him you believed him.

When you were done, you leaned back slightly, your hands resting on your thighs as you looked him over. He still had some bruises that would take time to heal, but most of the blood was gone, his skin clean again under the moonlight. None of his scratches were in need of any serious medical intervention, but you made a mental note to stop by a pharmacy in the morning regardless.

“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Better.”

Lee stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this.”

You closed your eyes, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “I want to.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, just stayed there, eyes closed and his forehead resting against yours. His breath slowly steadying as he let himself lean on you, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” he murmured, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

You smiled slightly, your hand moving to the back of his neck again, gently threading your fingers through his hair. “I told you. You’re not alone.”

“Not alone,” he mumbled and wiggled his forehead against yours briefly before pulling back and getting up.

He stretched a hand out to you, ready to pull you back with him to the truck.

***

A few states had ended up in your rearview mirror since you turned that creek pink and your hearts slightly softer. The atmosphere between you had shifted yet again, growing deeper and deeper each time. There was no acknowledgement of it, but there didn’t need to be. In the unspokeness, you could grow bolder. The touches, the glances, they took up more and more space in your increasingly small truck. You would yet again wake up in each other’s arms, and it no longer felt accidental.

It was the small things, too. The way his hand would brush yours when you walked side by side, or how he let his fingers linger a moment longer when you passed him something. The way your legs would press together in the truck when you shared the cramped front seat, neither of you moving away. Sometimes, when the truck was pulled off the road and you were both leaning against it, talking under the stars, his knee would bump against yours, and instead of pulling back, he let it stay there.

It felt like you were both waiting for something. The tension was not sharp, it was warm, almost inviting. You both knew what was next, but neither of you had made the move to cross that last, thin line.

You and Lee had spent the evening like you always did—driving, talking, letting the hours slip away into easy silences and the occasional laugh. Planning where to head to next. You had decided to drive to see the silliest places you could find, asking random strangers was the weirdest tourist attraction they have heard of is. On the list is Ben and Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard, the world largest ball of paint and a nuclear waste adventure trail. The night had come over you, and you ended up parked on the outskirts of a town, the lights from them illuminating you even in the dark. The two of you sat on the hood of the truck, your legs dangling off the edge, shoulders brushing.

He was quieter tonight. You could sense it in the way his gaze kept drifting over to you, then back to the stars. His hand rested on the metal beside you, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm, like he was thinking through something he had not decided on yet. But it wasn’t the usual restlessness that seemed to rule Lee’s entire existence. This was something different. Something quieter.

You nudged him gently with your shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet for a guy who never shuts up.”

He huffed a laugh, his head tilting toward you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

You smiled, your eyes catching the faint light of the stars reflecting in his. It was moments like this that you felt the pull most strongly – the way his face softened when he wasn’t trying to keep his guard up, the way he let you see parts of him he didn’t show anyone else. There was something magnetic about Lee when he wasn’t hiding. It made you want to keep his doors open, to take them off their hinges.

His hand shifted, almost imperceptibly, his fingers brushing against yours on the deck of the trunk. It was barely a touch, just the faintest hint of skin against skin, but you felt it like a jolt, a reminder of how close you both were. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. 

The silence stretched between you again, thick with something unspoken. It struck you how much serenity you felt in your soul in the silences with him, even when there was something brewing in it. You could feel him beside you, the warmth of him, the way his breath had slowed, his body still as if he was waiting for something.

Your fingers twitched, brushing against his again, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. You turned your hand over, palm up, an invitation as much as it was a question. Lee glanced down at your hand, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, like he had so many times before. But instead, his fingers curled slowly around yours, his grip gentle but sure, and your breath caught in your throat.

Neither of you spoke. The understanding that had hung between you for weeks was right there, all you had to do was lean into it.

“Lee,” you whispered, not even sure what you were asking. You liked having his name in your mouth. 

He turned his body towards you at his name, shifting closer, eyes locked on yours. You could see the hesitation there, the way his brow furrowed slightly, like he was still fighting something inside himself, still holding back.

But you weren’t. Not anymore.

You leaned in, closing the space between you before you could second-guess yourself, your lips brushing his softly, testing. Just once, enough to give him an out, enough to say I’m here, if you are.

For a moment, nothing happened. Lee stayed perfectly still against you, his breath caught, his fingers tightening around yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in further, his lips pressing back against yours, soft and warm. Open mouthed, lovingly.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate like you might have imagined. It was careful, deliberate, like he was letting himself feel it for the first time, like he wanted to make sure it was real. His free hand came up, brushing lightly against your jaw, his fingers tracing the edge of your face, almost as if he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on.

You deepened the kiss further, savouring his touches, the feeling of his tongue against yours. Your hand glided up to his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Slow but steady, the tension between you finally breaking in the gentlest way possible. It was like everything that had been building between you – every touch, every glance, every unspoken word – was spilling into that moment, into the way his lips moved against yours, into the way he held you like you were the only thing to hold.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Lee’s eyes were still closed, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if grounding himself in the moment, his lips parted, trying to catch his breath.

You stayed like that for a while, it didn’t matter how long. Few things mattered, you had found. Lee did. 

When he finally opened his eyes, they were unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen before. He didn’t smile, but the look in his eyes said enough. He was here, with you, in whatever this was.

He whispered your name, a late response.

You hummed with a smile, your fingers still tangled in his shirt. No words were needed. There were none that could be said, not now, not yet. 

Lee chuckled softly, a sound that felt more like relief than anything else. He slid down from leaning against the truck, to laying on the deck, still not letting go of your hand. You followed suit, for the first time purposefully laying your body half on top of his, head resting on his chest. 

No more waiting.

There was a whole civilisation right before you, just out of reach, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about the next destination. You were here, together, and that was all that mattered.

***

Once that barrier was breached, you and Lee found yourself stealing kisses of varying intensity more often than not. There was no label on the two of you, with your pasts you both were guarded from being the first to admit the intensity behind your actions. Yet, the need to be close was not dissipating as the days passed, if anything it only grew the more of a taste you got for each other.

One night, you found yourselves at a dive bar on the edge of some no-name town. The music thumped through the walls, too loud and too fast, but it matched the energy buzzing between you and Lee. The dim lights made everything look a little hazy, like the whole world was moving in slow motion. Lee leaned against the bar, his back to the crowd, his eyes fixed on you as you stood close to him, sipping on a cheap cider that barely tasted like anything. He hadn’t drank much tonight, which made the way he was looking at you feel even more intense.

There was something magnetic about him, the way he carried himself, the way his arm seemed to naturally find its way around your shoulders when in public, protective and possessive without being overbearing. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, and you leaned into it, enjoying the comfort of his touch. 

It was late, and the air between you was only magnifying your need for him, his fingers barely touching yours on the bartop like he was daring you to pull him closer. He only moved them to order another round from the bartender, shooting you a wicked grin.

“Thoughts?” he asked you as he handed you your new drink.

“This place isn’t too bad. The guy at the bar isn’t either.” The smile you flashed him was teasing and he all but rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess we’re both alright.”

You were about to make some quip about his soft spot for dive bars when a figure caught your eye, and you tensed. A guy had sidled up to the bar a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you, too interested, too familiar. You glanced at Lee, but he was already clocking the guy, his body going still beside you, though his expression didn’t change.

The guy stumbled closer, his drink sloshing in his hand. “You two look like you’re having a good time,” he slurred, his gaze flicking between you and Lee with a smirk that made your skin crawl.

Lee’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away from the guy. His look could draw blood, but his voice stayed calm, almost flat. “We were.”

The guy either didn’t notice your discomfort and Lee’s adverse stance, or he just didn’t care. He leaned in a little closer, still grinning like this was all a joke. “Come on, man. Just trying to talk to her.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Lee shifted, his arm moving in one fluid motion to slide around your waist, pulling you against him in a way that felt natural, like he was drawing a line in the sand. “She’s not interested,” he said, voice low and steady, but you could feel the warning beneath the surface.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Lee’s calm intensity, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, man, no need to get all protective. Just having fun.”

Lee kept staring him down, his grip on you tight, steadying you as much as he was putting space between you and the guy. “Well, you’re done,” he said, still in that same measured tone, like he wasn’t giving the guy a choice in the matter. “Go back to your drink.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, backing off with a muttered, “Alright, alright. Chill.” Slunking back into the crowd, he cast a few annoyed glances over his shoulder, but lacked the bravery to follow up on his annoyance.

Lee’s body was still taut with that lingering tension, eyes scanning the room again before he finally let out a breath. He didn’t pull away from you though, his hand resting on your hip as if he needed the contact to remind himself that you were alright.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice softer now as he finally looked down at you, concern flickering behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to take in what just happened and how swiftly Lee handled it. Never before have you gotten away from a situation with a creepy man so fast. 

“Are you?” you eventually asked, looking up to see his jaw still slightly clenched.

He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down to meet your eyes. "Yeah. Just don’t like guys like that."

You smiled a little, leaning into him, your hand resting lightly on his chest. "I noticed."

His lips quirked into a small grin, and it felt easy again, back to just the two of you, even in this crowded bar. "You ready to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against your skin now that you stood so close.

“Think so.” You finished your drink and without another word, he took your hand, leading you out into the cool night air. 

The bar’s noise faded into the background as the two of you walked back to the truck, your fingers still intertwined with his. There was something about the way he was holding your hand that made your heart race. It was tighter than normal, his thumb brushing over your skin.

You stopped by the passenger side door and Lee immediatley closed the gap between you, pressing you gently against the side of the truck. His hands rested on your hips, it was as if he had realised he could place them there now. When his gaze met yours, his eyes flickered with something dangerous, something raw.

"You know," he murmured, his voice rough, "I will always protect you. In any situation.”

You almost didn’t know what to say. It was so simple, yet he poured so much emotion into those words, and you felt them entirely.

“I do know,” you whispered. “I have never felt safety like this before.” The last part felt like a confession more than an answer. 

Lee’s breath hitched and he laid his forehead against yours, leaning more of his body against yours, so you were flush between him and the metal of the car.

“I’ve been trying not to kiss you all night. You’ve made it difficult.” Lee looked into your eyes as he said it, searching your face for a reaction. His pupils were wide, gaze intense.

You felt a shiver run through you at his words, the heat between you burning brighter. "Then stop trying."

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips crashed into yours with a force that knocked the breath out of you, one hand sliding up to grip your face while the other remained held your hips tighter, closer. His kisses were always languid, open-mouthed and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair and pulling at it as you kissed him back with equal intensity, your body arching against his. His mouth was warm and demanding, and when he kissed you, it felt like everything else in the world fell away.

The kiss deepened quickly, his hands moving up under your shirt, the cool air mixing with the heat of his touch. His mouth trailed down to your jaw, your neck, each kiss igniting sparks along your skin. You gasped softly, tilting your head to give him better access, your fingers travelling to dig into the skin of his back

"God," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless, like he could barely control himself.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, merging under the stars, the truck a silent witness to the way your bodies moved together, the way you couldn’t seem to get close enough. You lost track of time, lost track of everything except the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your skin. He was beginning to become your Lee.

***

Living with Lee changed you in many ways, but the most important was that for the first time in your life, you felt free. Whether it was the boy’s attitude or his attentiveness to you, or the roads that stretched for miles like ink on paper, you settled into your own body and existence. You owned yourself and your destiny in a way you didn’t think possible.

As you shared more of yourselves with each other, you realised just how repressed you had been, just how much of you had been shut off. In your newfound safety in Lee, you could open up.

Things long locked away were stirring within you. Some painful, some exciting. And some, you didn’t have the words to describe yet.

For the time being, you were on a quest to a museum of the history of cheese that an old lady at a café had been raving to you about. It was another state over, but this sweet woman insisted it was worth it, and as you were the ones who asked her about a recommendation, you felt it only right to trust her word.

On the way there, you were stopping in a typical shittown, the kind where nothing really happens but somehow everyone knows everyone else’s business. Craving excitement after a long day in the car with your feet in Lee’s lap, you asked him to go looking through town for something to do. There was a bonfire party that night, something thrown together by a group of locals, and you figured that would do.

 The fire crackled in the center of the gathering in the middle of the forest, the air heavy with smoke and alcohol. Lee’s arm was slung loosely around your shoulders as you walked through, scouting the place.

"You wanna stay long?" he asked, voice low in your ear.

You shook your head, leaning into him a little. "Nah. Let’s just see how it goes."

He nodded, but you could feel the tension in him, like he was always keeping one eye on the crowd. That protective streak ran deep in him, and you couldn’t help but wonder where it came from.

The two of you settled down on a log by the fire, chatting with some locals and getting your kick out of listening to them drawl away about town drama. A man had been circling where you were sat, both you and Lee noticed, but he never approached.

Needing to get some water from the truck, you squeezed Lee’s leg and told him you’d be right back.

He let his arm fall from around you to let you up, but looked at you with concern. “Don’t be long.” You just smiled. He watched you go, his eyes lingering on you longer than you realized.

You were walking back with water in hand, still on the outskirts of the bonfire and shielded from view when you saw the man coming up towards you. He looked the exact same as every man who had been a bother to you since you began life on your own and your stomach soured.

"Hey," the guy’s voice was a slurred mix of alcohol and bravado, his grin too wide, too familiar. "Why’d you leave your pretty boy toy behind? Done with him and ready for me?"

Your skin prickled with unease, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “I’m good. You should head back.”

He ignored you, stepping closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re vibing, right?"

He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm, and you jerked back instinctively. “Don’t touch me.”

The grin on his face faltered, replaced with something darker. “You’re just playing hard to get,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening now. "Girls like you always do."

“Back off!” you tried, but he took quick steps toward you.

Your heart raced, and before you could step away, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with bruising force. You twisted, trying to wrench yourself free, but he was stronger than he looked. His other hand moved to his pocket, and when he pulled out the glint of a blade, panic surged through you.

"Stop –"

"You’re not going anywhere –"

What happened next was a blur—a clash of instincts, fear driving your body into overdrive. He lifted the knife towards your throat, likely to threathen and not harm in the moment, but you could not wait to see how that would turn out. Your body moved before your mind could catch up, your hands lashed out, grabbing his wrist with one and prying the knife away with another. Suddenly the blade was in your hand, and when he threw himself on top of you, you shoved him off with one hand and used the knife with the other. 

It found its home in his neck.

You scrambled away, not yet realising what had just happened. At your hands. You stared at him in shock where he laid in front of you, the sounds sickening, wet gurgle as his throat opened up. Blood poured out in a thick stream, hot and fast, soaking his shirt.

In shock and desperation, you grabbed at the wound as if to counteract what you had just done, but he took that opportunity to grab you by the hair and neck, attempting to choke you. Fear surged through you once more, but his once-hard grip was already weakening and you could wrestle free.

By the time you recovered and looked up, the life had drained from his eyes. All you could hear was your breathing and the pulse in your head.

You could smell the blood. On your hands, on his clothes, still oozing from his wound. It was dizzying, the world becoming distant as you were trapped inside this bubble that consisted of the two of you. You and the corpse.

You realised you had never seen a corpse before, not in person. Smelling fresh blood was different from smelling it once it had harkened on Lee’s skin. Not even the thought of Lee could drag you out of the state you were slowly being pulled into.

Without fully acknowledging your movements, you moved back towards the man, the one who had wished you dead and died by his own knife. Your eyes were fixated on his wound, something building inside of you at a rapid speed. A coil built in your stomach, one you had known was there for essentially forever, without the ability to give it a name.

It snapped. And as it did, you leaned down and sunk your teeth into his neck.

Everything felt right, not the kind of comfortable right you had developed with Lee, it felt like your body was finally getting air after a long period of suffocation, it felt like water after a long run. It felt like a meal after having been starving.

Your face was buried further and further in the flesh, your mind completely void of all thoughts. Just your fingers and teeth, blood and bone. Feral, instinctive, lost in the hunger that just kept building, like it was never enough. 

"Shit."

A switch went off, and you were snapped back to reality. The smell of forest pine and moss, bonfire and smoke crept back in. As you slowly lifted your gaze, you saw him standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide, his face pale in the moonlight. His gaze was locked on you, and for the first time since you met him, you saw real shock on his face. Not fear exactly, but something close. Something you didn’t expect.

Horror.

“Lee…” Your voice broke, barely a whisper. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing into you like a wave. “Oh, God.”

Your eyes flashed back down and suddenly it was as if you realised you had a corpse at your feet. You scrambled backwards, breathing quickening, horrified and lost. You stared at your hands as tears were beginning to blur your vision, only worsened by how you couldn’t even see your skin’s colour through all the blood. Small curses kept spilling out past your lips as your eyes darted between the man, your hands and Lee.

“I– I didn’t mean to, I–” Your voice broke.

Lee took a step forward, his face still a mask of shock. For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the blood smeared across your skin. He’d always sensed something in you, always felt that you and him were the same in some way, but this… this was different. He hadn’t smelled it on you before. He had no idea.

“I didn’t– I don’t know what happened, I just–” You couldn’t make sense of it. Of anything. Your world was turned upside down.

“Hey.” Lee had made his way over to you, sitting on his knees in front of you. His voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, low and firm but not harsh. He closed the distance between you grabbing your arm, pulling you up from the ground. His grip was steady, but there was urgency in it now. “We gotta go.”

You blinked at him, still in shock, the reality of what you’d done slowly settling in. “But –”

“I know, I know, okay?” He pulled on a piece of hair plastered to your skin by blood, tucking it behind your hair. “I get it. But we gotta go. Now.” His voice cut through your haze of confusion and guilt. He didn’t wait for you to respond, didn’t give you the chance to argue. He grabbed you by the waist, practically lifting you off your feet as he dragged you away from the body and into the trees.

The world around you blurred as he pulled you through the forest, his grip firm, unyielding. The pounding in your head drowned out everything else– the sound of the party, the crackle of the bonfire, the smell of blood still clinging to you. All you could think about was what you had just done. What it meant. What you were.

By the time you reached the truck, you were shaking, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Lee shoved you into the passenger seat, his hand still gripping your arm like he was afraid you might bolt. He climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut, his face hard and unreadable as he started the engine.

For a while, there was nothing but the hum of the road, the world outside the truck a blur of dark trees and empty stretches of highway. Lee didn’t say anything, his eyes locked on the road ahead, his grip tight on the wheel. Mind racing almost as fast as the car, as he sped down the highway, determined to get as far away from the scene as possible. You sat beside him, leaning your head on the dashboard in front of you as you tried to gather yourself. Your hands still trembling, blood still drying on your skin. 

You could barely breathe, the walls of the truck closing in around you. The reality of what you had done hit you again, harder this time. You had killed someone. Eaten someone.

You choked on a sob, tears already streaking the blood on your face. Your chest was tightening, your vision blurring. “Lee, I–”

There was no way for you to finish the sentence.

With your eyes clenched shut, hidden away, making yourself as small as possible in your seat, you couldn’t see the pained look he gave you. He needed to protect you by putting distance between you and the crime. But all he wanted was to pull you close.

“It’s okay. I will stop as soon as I can. It’s okay.” 

Eventually he caught eye of a discreet sideroad and veered the truck down it as fast as possible. He slammed on the brakes, parking the car on a plot of grass by a river. The engine cut off, leaving the night in a sudden, heavy silence. In the blink of an eye, Lee was out of the truck, opening your door to pull you out as well. You were too out of it, not processing anything that was happening. He ended up scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style down to the riverside. 

One bloody bride that is.

He sat you down by the water, his hands still firm on your arms, not giving you room to break down yet. "Sit here." His voice was softer now, but still edged with urgency. He knelt beside you, shrugging off his jacket and dipping it into the water. The cold night air hit your skin, but you barely felt it, still lost in the haze of panic.

You sat there, frozen, as he started to clean the blood off your hands, your arms, your face, as carefully as he could when hurrying. His touch was careful, deliberate, the way it had been when you first found him at the creek, battered and trying to clean himself up. But there was something different this time, something softer, more protective, like he wasn’t just cleaning the blood away, but trying to take some of the weight of it with him. Like he was saying, You don’t have to carry this alone. His jaw was clenched, eyes focused entirely on you, like he was trying to fix you, trying to put you back together piece by piece.

“Lee,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Am I–?” You couldn’t finish the sentence.

He paused, his hands stilling for just a second before he looked up at you. His expression softened, something breaking in his eyes. He reached up with a wet hand, brushing over your cheek and simultaneously cleaning some blood off. "You don’t have to be scared of it," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "Or of me."

You blinked, tears welling in your eyes. "I don’t understand."

“I’m here.” His fingers remained on your face, wiping away the tears before they could fall too far. “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me?”

You gave a faint nod. 

For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you. He kept trying to get as much blood as possible off you, making you presentable again both in case someone saw you and to help you feel normal again. He didn’t try to explain it, didn’t try to rationalize it. 

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He attacked me, I protected myself and then, then–”

“I know,” he said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know.”

Lee made sure your face and hands were free from blood, and then he helped you out of your stained sweater, leaving you in just your top underneath. He discarded it quick and turned back to you, grabbing your shaking hands.

“We need to move again, sweetheart” he said, voice low but certain. “We can’t stay too close.”

He stood up, reaching out to pull you up with him. His movements were quiet, purposeful. He didn’t rush you, but there was a tension in the air now, like he was calculating the next move. You could tell his mind was already working ahead, mapping out the quickest way to get you both far from the scene, far from the mess you left behind.

Your legs wobbled as you stood, your body still weak from the adrenaline crashing out of your system, but Lee’s grip on you was firm, guiding you back toward the truck. He opened the passenger door, helping you in before sliding into the driver’s seat. He tentatively took your hand with the one that wasn’t on the steering wheel, rubbing circles on it with his thumb as a silent comfort. The truck rumbled to life beneath you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of the engine, drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face.

"I didn’t know it would feel like this," you whispered once you were back on the road, your voice shaking. "I never… I didn’t think I’d ever be like this."

Lee was quiet for a moment, his eyes trained on the road, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, though there was something distant in it, like he was pulling from his own memories. "First time I fed… I couldn’t stop shaking afterward. Not ‘cause of the blood. It was the way it felt. Right and wrong all at once. Like it was something I was supposed to be ashamed of, but my body just didn’t care."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you in a way that made your chest tighten. It was exactly how you felt – the rush of power, the satisfaction of feeding, mixed with the horror of what you had done. You had never wanted this, but it was like your body had decided for you.

"I didn’t want to stop," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t even think about it. I just… gave in."

Lee turned to you, his eyes soft but serious, and for a moment, you could see the weight of his own guilt mirrored in his expression. "That’s what it does. That’s what the hunger is." He paused, his jaw clenching briefly before he continued. "It takes over. And once it does… it’s like you don’t have a choice anymore. You just need."

You shivered, wrapping an arm around your stomach, trying to shake off the phantom feeling of the blood on your skin, the taste of it still faint on your lips. "I’m going to need it now,” you said, the realisation setting in. “How do I handle that?”

He exhaled slowly, and you saw the streetlights reflected in his eyes as they grew somewhat glossy. "You learn. Little by little. You get to know the hunger, learn how to control it instead of letting it control you. I will help you with it. You won’t do it alone.”

The tears you’d been holding back started to spill over, and you turned away, trying to hide your face. "I don’t really know what to do with myself now.”

He remained quiet, just held your hand tighter. 

For a long while, you just sat there, letting the silence and the weight of his words wash over you. The night felt vast around you, you realised now that Lee had rolled down the windows for you. Likely to help you breathe better. You should have known Lee would understand, because of course he would. Yet, there had been fear that he would be angry, disgusted. He wasn’t, not even a little bit. If anything, he was calm. Steady. Like this wasn’t something that could break you.

He built a little bit of confidence you, even as you felt your insides caving in.

The road stretched out ahead of you in silence, the dark trees a blur outside the windows. Lee was counting the miles until it would be safe to stop for the night, just a little bit longer. The truck was filled by spiraling thoughts from you both.

Lee had to stop himself from going down a rabbithole of blaming himself. Thinking that he influenced you, that maybe, if you hadn’t met him you never would have discovered this part of you. He wanted to hate himself, he wanted to break down, but with every glance over at you he knew he couldn’t. Your feelings were what mattered tonight. He knew he needed to keep it together to guide you through it. 

You had been crying on and off for the past hour, struggling with too many emotions at once. To process the assault and the intense fear you felt. Guilt consumed you, but not necessarily for killing the man, as you knew you had to, but then you felt guilty about your lack of guilt, and it was a never ending spiral. You felt horrible about feeding on him, about the discovery that you were an eater. When it was Lee it didn’t bother you, because, as you had come to realise, you just loved him. You know he is good. But you? That one was harder.

Then, your mind went to more practical matters. You had killed someone, feasted upon their body and then abandoned it. There were so many layers of illegal in those actions, and a new kind of fear and panic grabbed you.

Lee had seen these emotions develop in his peripheral, subconsciously speeding a bit faster, looking for somewhere safe to stop.

Your chest began to tighten, the panic from earlier threatening to bubble up. “Lee…” Your voice cracked, barely holding itself together. “What if someone finds out?”

He glanced at you briefly, his face unreadable. “They won’t.”

“But–”

“We’re not going back. Not to that town, not anywhere near it.” His voice was firm, cutting through your panic with the same intensity he had used earlier. “By the time they realize anything, we’ll be long gone. We’re already long gone.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they didn’t settle the storm in your chest. You squeezed your hands together, spotting some leftover blood around your cuticle. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like the air in the truck was too thick, too stifling. The man’s corpse was laying on top of your lungs and you were suffocating.

“Lee… I…” You gasped, scratching at your skin, your vision starting to blur. You couldn’t catch your breath, couldn’t think past the overwhelming guilt, the horror of what you’d done.

He called your name, but you couldn’t register anything anymore.

The truck swerved again as Lee pulled off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled up to a small clearing, hidden behind a stretch of trees. An answered prayer. 

He immediatley turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Hey. Hey, breathe. Sweetheart, I think you’re having a panic attack."

You tried to speak, but your words got caught and you were doubling over in the space that felt more and more confining.

In a swift motion, Lee had pulled you over the console and into his lap, opening the door beside him to let in as much air as possible. He held you securely, tight grip meant to ground you as he tried to talk you down.

With a hand on your cheek, he made you meet his eyes. "Look at me. You gotta breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on me."

You tried, but the panic had taken hold, your mind spiraling out of control. "I killed him. I killed him, and–"

"I know," Lee cut you off, his voice soft but firm. "You did. But it’s fine. It is fine, you are fine. I know. But you’re gonna be okay. You’re not in danger. Just breathe. Please breathe."

His words didn’t allow for you to argue, quelling your disagreements before you could make them. He cupped your face, stroking his thumb along your jaw, and exaggerated his breathing so you could follow it. In and out. He was so close, his eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, all you could focus on was him. He was pulling you back from the edge.

"Breathe," he repeated, his voice a low murmur. "That’s all you need to do right now."

You closed your eyes, following his lead, trying to pull air into your lungs the way he told you. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Slowly, painfully, the tightness in your heart began to ease, your breath coming in shaky but more controlled gasps.

When you opened your eyes again, Lee was still watching you, his hand still gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed falling. "There you go." His voice barely above a whisper. "Just like that."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, your body still trembling but no longer on the verge of breaking. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice fragile and raw.

Lee shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong."

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you had done something wrong, something unforgivable, but the way he was looking at you – like you weren’t broken, like you weren’t some monster, made the words die in your throat.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "I always got you. You’re good."

The weight of his words, the certainty in them, settled deep in your chest, pushing back the panic, the fear. You weren’t alone in this. You had Lee. You always had Lee.

You stayed like that for a while, just sitting in his lap in the truck, your breath finally steadying as the night stretched out around you. You didn’t notice how hard you were holding onto Lee, clutching his shirt and even some skin, but he didn’t say anything either. He just stayed beside you, his hands never leaving you, grounding you, pulling you back from the edge every time the panic threatened to take over again.

You breathed together. Through it all.

After what felt like hours, he finally spoke, his voice quiet but sure. "Let’s get settled down, okay?”

You nodded, too tired to argue, too drained to do anything but follow his lead. Lee helped you out of the seat, his arm steady around your waist as he guided you down. He went around the truck, gathering the blankets from the backseat, more than he would usually grab, and set up your usual makeshift bed in the trunk as quickly as possible.

Together, you climbed into the softness he had created just for you. It felt odd to do something so familiar when it felt like everything had changed. Lee had not, still watching you, as he leaned back against the cab of the truck. You pulled on one of his sweaters, settling in beside him. He tangled your feet together and grabbed your hand, but didn’t initiate more than that, expectantly waiting for you to process your thoughts out loud with him.

Your eyes were slightly glossy again when you whispered, "Thank you."

He shook his head, immediately softening. "You don’t have to thank me."

"I do," you whispered, your voice catching. "You didn’t have to do any of this. And you did."

Lee’s hand tightened slightly on your knee, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your pants. "Of course," he said, his voice low but firm. "You’re stuck with me, remember?"

A small, broken laugh escaped you, something warm flickering in your chest. You looked up at him, tears blurring your vision, but there was a kind of quiet relief there, too. Lee’s gaze was steady, unwavering, like no matter what had happened, no matter how far you had fallen, he was there to pull you back.

"Lee…" you started, but the words caught in your throat, too many emotions swirling inside you to put into words.

He seemed to understand anyway. Without saying anything, he angled himself more towards you, his forehead resting against yours. The closeness, the way his body pressed gently into yours everywhere, was enough to calm the last of your racing thoughts. You let out a shaky breath, your hands reaching up to gently hold his face, your fingers brushing through his hair.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, your breaths mingling, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost to the night air. "You’re safe."

Something in his voice, the way he said it, made your heart clench. He had never said it out loud, but you knew. He tipped your chin up, meeting your lips with a searing kiss, one that felt like promise. 

It felt like forever before he pulled away, far enough to be able to see your eyes, searching your face for more hurt to quench. You could see his bottom lip quivering slightly before he said it.

"I love you.” 

Life stilled in the small clearing, and the weight of the past year came tumbling down on you. All you had done, all that had changed. How painful it had all been. How worth it it all was, to be sitting here in this boy’s arms now.

You took him in, your breath shaky. His words hung in the air between you, raw and real in a way that made your pulse race. 

He smiled, understanding your reaction. His forehead went back to yours, his hands cradling your face gently, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin. There was nothing aloof about him now. He was all here, in this moment, focused on you like nothing else mattered. "I'm serious," he murmured, his voice soft, the vulnerability in it something you'd never heard before. "I love you."

Your throat tightened, grappling with the weight of it all. "Still?" you whispered, your voice trembling. 

His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer, his breath warm against your lips. "You think this scares me? You think any of this changes how I feel about you?" His gaze was intense, a burning passion that steadied you, even as your heart threatened to tear itself apart. "You’re still you. This doesn’t make you someone else. So, yeah. Still. Always."

Your heart soared, a flood of emotions you hadn’t expected surging to the surface. You kissed him again, slowly, just lips pressed against lips as you tried to calm yourself.  "I don’t know what life looks like for us now.”

"Then we’ll figure it out," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like there had never been another option. “Part of the fun, right?”

He pulled away just to kiss your forehead and temples, lingering there for almost a beat too long before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You're not alone in this. I’m not letting you go through it alone. Got it?"

You blinked back the hot, stinging tears that threatened to spill over. The calm in his voice, the unwavering certainty in his eyes grounded you like no else. It felt impossible, but here he was, telling you that you weren’t lost, that he wasn’t leaving, no matter what happened.

"I need you, you know," he whispered against your cheek, kissing it once more. "I don’t think you get that."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. You clung to him. "I do," you said, your voice soft but firm. "I need you, Lee. Desperately."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then don’t overthink it." 

And before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, kissing you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. There was a quiet desperation in the way he kissed you, like every ounce of the feelings he couldn’t quite say were being poured into that moment. His hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as though he was trying to erase the space between you.

You kissed him back with the same intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body pressing into his, craving the closeness, the connection. Everything else faded into the background, drowned out by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his hands on your skin.

His lips left yours for just a moment, brushing against your jaw, then trailing down your neck, each kiss soft but deliberate, making your breath hitch. "I’m not going anywhere," he murmured again, the words muffled against your skin. "You’ve got me. No matter what."

You couldn’t find the words, so you kissed him again, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight against him as though he was afraid to let go, as though you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

For a long moment, the world was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. It was just you and him, and the quiet understanding that you were in this together. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead pressed to his, you let out a laugh, more from the relief of having him here than anything else. It made him give you a curios smile, just happy to see you regain some of your usual behavior.

 "So," you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, "are you gonna say it again, or what?"

He let out a low chuckle, his arms still wrapped around you, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "I love you," he said, his voice warm, no hesitation this time. "I love you. I’m not scared to say it, even if you make me say it a thousand more times."

"Good," you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again, softer this time, but no less meaningful. "Because I love you too. And I’m not letting you go."

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he kissed you back, slow and lingering, like he wanted to memorize the feel of you against him. When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours.

"We’ll figure this out," he promised softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm. "Whatever happens, we will be fine. Together."

You nodded, your heart finally settling, a sense of calm washing over you. "Yeah. We will."

And with that, the two of you sank down into the blankets, the night quiet at last. Lee’s arm stayed wrapped around you, his lips pressing soft kisses to whatever exposed skin he could find, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that this moment was real. 

As you lay there, tangled together, the world felt a little less terrifying. You had each other, and somehow, that was enough.

[allfearstofallto]

I am here to cause trouble:

yandere!diluc who is a priest and believes darling is the goddess reincarnated (but she is not) but he keeps her captive anyways. to keep her safe of course.

And for you, my beloved mutual, an entire fanfiction!! I liked this idea more than I want to admit and I wrote way more than I was expecting for it 😭😭

Reverent

Yandere! Priest! Diluc x Fem! Reader

TW: 18+MDNI, Yandere, Lots and lots of religion (like a LOT), mentions of cheating, Nicknames (Reader is referred to as "My child", "My goddess", "Little One", "My Dear") (Diluc is referred to as "Father"), Blackmail (?), Abuse of power, Dub/Non-Con, Fingering

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” the words felt foreign as they fell from your lips because you'd never truly spoken them before. You'd said them, yes, the many times you were made to confess whatever arbitrary sins you had to the church, but there was always a hint of sarcasm to your voice, your tone dripping with your lack of care and belief. Not this time though. This time, you meant it.

“Confess your sins to me,” a rich, deep voice said from the other side of the partition. He sounded older, a slight gravel to his voice that could only be acquired with age. You recognized that voice. You knew him. Father Diluc, the priest of the church and a Paragon of the faith. If you recognized him, it was already certain that he recognized you as well, making you feel less inclined to admit what you'd presumably done wrong.

“Adultery,” you spat the word out quickly through gritted teeth. Your fingers were digging into the fabric of your pants, your eyes downcast in shame. Not over what you'd done, no. If your previous dabbles in religion taught you anything, it was that you didn't care much for any rule you believed was stupid. Especially abstinence. This wasn't your first time, but it was the first with someone who was married.

Guilt had been eating you alive for months. It wasn't like you knew at first. The man was rather cunning and he danced around topics in his life with ease. The issue was that you didn't stop after you found out. It was something that felt so out of character, even for you, yet you continued the rendezvous until the very day his spouse found out. 

You heard Diluc let out a little gasp, a slight hitch in his breathing. Not the kind befitting of a priest listening to a confession. His shaking sigh felt like he was feeling genuine anguish. If one thing was certain, it was that this wasn't his first time hearing such a confession. It was what he heard the most, actually. 

“I'm having impure thoughts,”

“I had sex before marriage,”

“I cheated,”

It was like clockwork. Like clockwork from everyone. Everyone except you.

Diluc didn't like to say he showed favoritism, such a thing was a sin. All his children were created equal, after all. Yet, he wouldn't lie and pretend that he didn't feel a warmth pass over himself when he saw you sitting in the pews amongst the people of worship. Were you aware of how much you seemed to glow under the stained glass window light? You, amongst all the others, were radiant. A glimmer amongst the black, oily sludge that seemed to cloud his vision.

He didn't mean to let his true feelings known when you confessed to him. It was his job to be an unbiased ear, to listen to, to give advice when needed, and to pray for their soul. Yet, that turn of events couldn't happen with you. With you, he was seeing red. Seething even, yet he spoke calmly.

“I see,” he muttered, his voice quieter than he'd initially intended, “Before marriage?”

Your silence was an answer enough. Why did he care so much about your personal affairs? Why did he harbor so much desire to know you? Diluc knew it wasn't right to obsess over you the way he did. He worshiped you. It was a plight on his soul, knowing that someone else was his object of praise, yet every night when he sat on his knees, his mind always shifted to you. His…goddess.

His goddess was impure.

“Manual labor,” he whispered quietly, but loud enough for each syllable to fall on your ears. You couldn’t take vows, not anymore, but he could keep you here for a while. He needed to protect you from the temptations of the outside world. They’d already tainted you once, he couldn’t let it happen farther. 

You knew you should’ve questioned such a harsh and unusual punishment, but guilt was still consuming you. Even as Diluc spoke of what you’d be doing amongst the church to hopefully cleanse your soul, your thoughts were still on the man’s wife. How she sounded when she found out about the affair. Her sobs of anguish never truly left your mind. Her constant screams of “How could you do this?” The words weren’t for you, yet you felt every single one hit you like a bullet. How could you? Who were you to do something so horrible? Maybe that’s why you didn’t say no to Diluc’s proposal, everything falling into place like pieces of a puzzle.

The work wasn’t particularly difficult. You helped the other members of the church, working alongside them in a fairly packed schedule. You woke up when they did, ate when they did, read from the text when they did, and when they slept, you were expected to as well. You were kept so busy, you had little time to think of your wrong doings, making you question if that was what father Diluc had intended. 

The only time your path deviated from theirs, was at around noon. Then, you were expected to see Diluc in his office. At the very back of the chapel, he sat behind his desk. His face was slightly aged and serious, his long red hair tied in a neat ponytail that would sit draped over his shoulder. His tired eyes would look upon you and even past those thick glasses that he always wore while looking over his documents, you could feel something strange in the way he gazed at you. His features would soften and maybe, just maybe, if you got close enough to him, you could see his pupils dilate. 

You were expected to tell him about your day at this time. To repent your wrong doings. To express gratefulness at his method. You did so diligently and you were rewarded by the feeling of his cool lips pressing against your forehead. A tender kiss that spoke of more desire than love of a worshipper, you could feel his lips trembling as they touched your skin, and hear a shaking sigh. Even though you wanted to question the formality of such actions, you decided against it. His hand on the back of your head would be gently stroking your hair, his thumb coaxing your locks, his eyes looking down upon you affectionately.

“I've been proud of your progress, little one,” his voice was a hum, a gentle sound reverberating through his tiny office.

You gave a curt nod, “I feel the same way, father. I think being put to work has helped me more than I expected. When I leave soon, I'll take these lessons to heart.”

You watched as Diluc’s face fell. His eyes lost that tender affection, his lips no longer curled into a sweet smile. It was obvious that even was aware that his sudden change in expression was jarring. He tried to mask the look of fear and worry that he harbored, but he couldn't fake it well enough. The look of warmth in his eyes was replaced by a chilling cold that sent a shiver up your spine.

“It's been a mere two weeks,” He protested. The hand that was resting against the nape of your neck was now cupping your cheek. His fingers were long and cold, you felt a feeling of slight discomfort at how he touched you with so much familiarity.

“As much as I've enjoyed my stay, two weeks is more than enough,” you'd used all your vacation time at work, and that was the nicest way of putting it. Any longer and you'd be fired. Guilt was still your primary emotion, but you felt that you had the tools to work through it alone now. He gave you then and now it was your turn to use them.

“Temptation lies outside those doors,” Diluc's words were strained, like he was urging you to listen to him. His other hand was placed on your shoulder, making you stand face to face with him, caged in by his big arms and broad chest. He looked down upon you with pleading, red eyes. You saw the flicker of something more within them, “I can't protect you out there.”

You went to push his hands away, but felt that his grip was firm like iron. He didn't budge at all at your attempts to remove him, you strained your muscles, her he barely moved, “I no longer need protection,”

“Is that what you think?”

His grip had long since tightened on your shoulder. His hand now against the column of your throat, tempting the urge to squeeze. You could feel it, in the way his fingers twitched at each beat of your heart that you were sure he could feel. But he didn't. He didn't choke you, he caressed. His touch was gentle despite the firmness of it.

“Father Diluc, I think you should let go,” you were done with the expected decorum and niceties, he had no intention of abiding by such rules so why should you? It was hard to mask the fear that lingered in your voice, but desperation was telling you that he'd jump at any sign of weakness.

“They will harm you out there,” he seemed to be ignoring your words completely.

“Father Diluc-”

“What is out there that calls you so desperately?” as he spoke you were walked backwards to his desk, his grip still tight on your neck.

“Father!”

“You were happier here, haven't you noticed?” You felt your bottom hit the firm wood, indicating you couldn't go farther, but he continued to press himself against you, “Have you not seen the way you radiate, my dear?”

Once again, you tried to press your hands against his shoulders, to push him away, but you were met with nothing, except his unyielding strength. He wouldn't move a muscle, he wouldn't budge a bit. As you attempted to push him away, you felt himself hand tracing up your thigh. It made you tense. Eyes wide and breath suddenly caught in your throat.

“I know what you desire,” you were backed into practically sitting on his desk, his hand grabbing the hem of your ankle length skirt and pushing it all the way up to your hips, bunching it around your waist, “I know why you're so desperate to leave.”

All you could do was open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, unable to form words or a coherent sentence. Diluc's long, cold fingers were trailing up your bare thighs, his touch delicate and thoughtful, each move, one after the next was meant to elicit a reaction from you. Until his palm cupped your clothed cunt. His middle finger tracing up and down your slit, feeling the heat from your sex as he split your folds, the only barrier being your panties.

You gasped. Loudly. Even making a noise that shrill pained you. You jumped back, but felt yourself go nowhere, still seating against his many documents and books. Still with his other hand wrapped around your neck.

“My vows mean that I can't give you everything you want,” he murmured. His voice sounded tender now, despite the way he was rubbing harsh circles on your clit with his hand. It was like this was the first time he'd ever spoken of regretting such actions, “But I can satisfy you so that you won't want to leave.”

Denial couldn't leave your lips quick enough. You wanted to. But couldn't. He'd grabbed the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down, exposing you to him, who sucked in air through his teeth at the sight. His fingers began tracing again, like he was mapping out every inch of you, tracing your folds, your entrance. He dipped the tip of a finger inside to gather some of your wetness, then used it to rub slow, right circles on your swollen clit.

You felt disappointed in yourself for the way you moaned before you spoke, tears welling in your eyes, “You've got the wrong idea!” attempted to plead, attempted to flail, you tried your hardest to pull away. But when you felt that hand around your throat tighten for the first time, you tensed, still as stone. 

“Hush,” was all he murmured. His finger still flicking at the apex of your sex in a way that seemed to be much too skilled for him. Despite your disgust, you felt your arousal growing, you felt yourself growing wetter. You could hear each noisy little sound, as you tried your damnedest not to arch your hips into his touch.

“As expected of my goddess,” his words, reverent in nature, barely had time to register in your mind before you felt him sinking two of his large fingers into you. He let out this noise at the action, a hiss of genuine delight as he felt your wrapping around his digits, almost akin to a moan as he began the slow pace of pumping his fingers in and out.

“Stop it,” you grunted between gritted teeth. You'd clenched your eyes shut, hoping that not seeing the look of worship and pure admiration on his face would help, but that only made the pleasure stronger. It was more intense now, you could feel the way his fingers traced your gummy walls, and when his thumb found your clit again, rubbing those tight circles in pace with his thrusts, you felt your hips buck, “Stop it, please!”

But your words fell on deaf ears. Or maybe, he did hear you, but didn't care. Your body was responding more than enough, the way you were coating his fingers, the way you couldn't stop yourself from letting your hips match the pace of his skilled thrusts. You could hold back your moans as much as you wanted, but he didn't need to hear you to know he was getting through to you.

Diluc huffed a little as he thrusts in and out of you, little pants, like this action was pleasurable to you too. When words stopped being spoken and you were left there with your tears and forced pleasure, his hand still on your neck, you could hear him too. Hear the way little grunts released from his throat. You dared yourself to look down at his crotch, only to realize that beneath his loose fitting garb, you could see the tale tell signs of an erection. It was a baffling sight, seeing him this way, yet it didn't surprise you.

You felt that familiar pit forming in your abdomen as his pace only grew faster, fingers curling and hitting that same spot over and over again. You didn't want to cum from his touch, yet every attempt to pull away thus far had been meaningless. A whimper, then a gasp, then your toes curled and your back arched off his desks. You came, your body trembling through the admittedly intense orgasm, spilling more of your wetness into his large palm.

Your head felt light, your vision a blur for just a moment, and you couldn't stop the pleasured convulsions that coursed through your body. Diluc could feel the way your pussy was rhythmically clenching around his fingers and he let out another one of those soft pants of pleasure. He held them there for a moment, thrusting the long digits in and out slowly in an agonizing pace against your already overstimulated body. Prolonging your orgasm enough that he finally managed to rip a moan from your lips which had been clenched shut.

Diluc pulled his fingers from your and you reveled in the empty feeling you were left with. Still panting with sweat clinging to your forehead, your eyes caught that he'd brought those same fingers to his lips and began to suck on them. His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a moan of pure bliss and satisfaction from your taste alone. You felt disgusted.

Your trembling hands pushed down your skirt once more, doing what you could to cover your modesty. Although, it was useless now. He'd already seen everything.

“May I leave now?” Even the sound of your own voice shocked you. How weak it was. How it trembled after every word.

“Back to your room?” he questioned. He'd pulled his fingers from his mouth, but it seems he was still enjoying the taste that lingered behind. The look on his face said that and you held your head down as a sense of shame washed over you.

You gave a solemn nod. As much as you'd desired the ability to go home, you felt a sense of fear wash over you at what'd happened this time. Easily overpowered and forced to give something that you didn't wish to. Father Diluc, who always had a calming presence, seemed to be little more than a monster to you now. Yet, he looked upon you like you'd hung all the stars in the sky, a smile creeping upon his face as he registered your actions.

“Rest well, my goddess,”

[world-of-aus]

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI (Porn with a substantial amount of plot fingering, P in V, pet names, bucky barnes.)

Author's Note: Installment 4 here we go! So sorry for the delay but writing should be coming more close as I enjoy my spring break! Hope you all enjoy and happy readings Buns!

Tony Stark was always looking for the next best thing to boosts his websites rating. 

“Any of the scenes catching your eye?” 

Bucky looked up from the script titles, eyes meeting his boss, a shake to his head. 

‘Step-sister helps me relax’ 

‘Horny sitter cums clean’ 

‘Caught stepbrother smelling my underwear’ 

Bucky grimaces at that one, “Jesus stark, who the hell wrote these titles?” he says as he slides the page back at his boss. 

Tony laughs as he picks up the paper he laid out for Bucky minutes prior to scan them again himself. His grimace mirrored his stars, he's tossing the page back down on the desk, “they were sent to me by the scripting company,” he answers with a heavy breath, “apparently this is what the people want, this is the sex that’s selling.” 

Bucky’s looking down at the page again, reading through the titles, “stark hubs dabbled in these categories before, but shouldn’t we be bringing something new, something we haven’t filmed before instead of just slapping on a raunchy title to one of our viewers favorites?” 

Tony tilts his head, “that would be ideal, yes – but this is what is selling right now, this is what the viewers want.”  

The brunette shakes his head rubbing at his stubble, “Do you have the list of costars for me this week?” 

Tony goes to answer his question but a knock stops him, both their eyes going to the door. Pepper pops her head in with a warm smile a paper in her hand, “got the list of girls that are available for this week.” She says letting herself in, you following in right after her a warm smile and greeting on your lips, Bucky returns the sentiment. 

“Wonderful,” Tony grins grabbing the page from his wife, looking it over before sliding it to him, “got that list for you right here Barnes.” Bucky gives his boss an unamused look, grabbing the page to scan the names, his eyes finding your name right away looking over your open days. 

“Y/n sit,” Tony offers the seat next to Bucky, “maybe you and Pepper can help us here.” Bucky continues to scan the list of names and days available while Tony explains what they had gone over before you and Pepper had come in. 

Bucky’s placing the list down just as you’re picking up the list of titles, Tony laughs at the grimace that kisses your features, “this came from the scripting company? You question passing the page to Pepper, “are they running out of titles?”  

Peppers reaction is similar to yours, “this is what’s  selling?” Tony nods leaning back in his chair, “unfortunately it is, it’s all the hype right now.” 

“Getting caught smelling your stepsisters underwear though? I mean Im not kink shaming but that cant be that hot.” 

Bucky chuckles next to you, “My thoughts exactly, the only way that title is selling is if the sex that comes after.” 

You nod turning to Pepper, “I guess I’ll do solos and Cams this week, work on my views.” Your boss nods jotting it down already, Bucky turns to your brows furrowed, but Tony asks the question burning his tongue, “not feeling up to working with the guys this week kid, the soldier not do his job last week?” 

You laugh, “the soldier did his job and then some -” 

“So what’s the problem then?” stark jumps in. 

“Aside from the bad titles,” you say pointing to the paper, “m’not really comfortable with the list of costars left to choose from, I’d rather get myself off.” 

“I think I get you off just fine y/n.” it’s out of Buckys mouth before he can stop it. You turn to catch his gaze, “I could take any of those titles and have you coming within the first thirty minutes.” 

Your tongue runs along your cheek, “I know you can, but I’m not trying to step on any toes.” 

The brunettes brows furrow, head tilted in question, “step on toes?” Tony questions drawing your attention away from Bucky. You nod, you hadn’t wanted to bring this up, but from the look on the broad-shouldered brunette sitting next to you, he deserved to know. “Carter approached me in the lockers this morning, said she had Bucky the whole week.” You leave out the part where she said Bucky only filmed with you for the views and now that your ratings were high enough his job of filming with you was done. “She had overheard me and Wanda talking about our plans for this week, I mentioned wanting to work with Bucky, that’s when she approached me to tell me she had you for the week.” 

He licks over his lip, jaw ticking, “So its not that I don’t want to work with you, and have you fuck me silly to one of those raunchy titles,” you say drawing a low whistle from Tony,  but you wanted to make your intentions of working with him still known. “But I assumed you were booked for the week with the way Carter approached me this morning – I’m not trying to make enemies of the girls.” 

“Listen kid,” Tony speaks up drawing your attention, “schedules have to go through me for final approval, Carter can say she has Bucky booked for the week but if it’s not approved by me it ain’t happening, so if you wanna work with him add it to your schedule and I’ll give the final approval, and given the ratings the two of you have been getting it’ll be the first approved.” 

“Give me Friday,” you say gaze finding Bucky’s, “I’d like to start my weekend off with a bang, won’t be a problem – right soldier.” 

Bucky runs his devious tongue over his lower lip, “not a problem at all, I’ll give you something to hold you over till next week.” 

Tony claps his hand, grin on his features, “you sure you just want Friday kid?” Bucky watches you nod your head, “yeah, I really wanna do some solos with some new pieces I purchased last week.” The man raises a brow, “pieces we might get a peek of Friday?” 

“I have the perfect piece.” 

Tony grins, “well its settled you’ll do solos Monday through Thursday film with the soldier Friday.” 

“Thank you Tony.” 

“No problem kid,” he replies watching you and his wife stand the two of you making your exit. He watches you wave at Bucky promising to see him Friday it’s only after the doors closed behind the two of them that Tony turns to his star. “Something tells me you’ll see her before Friday.” 

Bucky shakes his head with a chuckle, “unless she accepts an invitation to join us at the bar when we go during the week I won’t see her till Friday.” 

“Speaking of Friday,” Tony turns the discussion, “how would you feel filming something new.” 

Bucky looks at his boss in question, “you mean something not on the list?” Tony nods, “mobile recorded videos have been a hit lately on other sites, I’m thinking we could dip our toes, try a new category here at stark hub.” 

“What did you have in mind?” the brunette questions. 

“So where do you want me?” 

The kitchen. 

The living room. 

Shower. 

Bucky wanted to take you apart on every inch of his apartment, and the longer he stood here watching you in that set the longer he had time to think maybe going along with starks idea hadn’t been his best. Yes, it had been Starks bright idea to have Bucky film an ‘amateur’ scene with y/n where he had her in his bed to see what the viewers might think about it, but it had been Bucky who offered his actual bed, that probably wasn’t the smartest thought he’s had, amongst all the filthiest. 

“B,’ you laugh softly, “if you want, we can get a set instead, maybe just haul your sheets with us so its mor natural - this is your space I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I’m sure Tony will understand and can set us up.” Your words seem to bring him out of his reverie, his gaze finding yours, “sweetheart,” he chuckles licking over his lower lip, “I am anything but uncomfortable right now, if anything I’m holding myself back from taking you on every surface of my space I want you everywhere.” 

A grin pulls at your lips, “well no one's here to tell us what to do, so why don’t you?” 

The growl ripping from his chest is your only warning as he closes the distance between the two of you, hands going around you as he grips at your under thighs hoisting you in his arms. 

You let out a surprised laugh, your arms hooking around his neck though it’s short-lived as he drops you on his bed, his body covering yours, lips a breath away. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me soldier?” 

Bucky consumes your laugh with a press of his lips to yours, and a roll.of his hips that has you moaning into his mouth. 

“You feel how happy you’ve made me?” 

You arch up into the press of his hips as you chase his lips, “put it in – please.” 

He groans into your parted lips; stark was really testing his patience with this scene he offered him. “I plan on it, but right now I need you to be a good girl and get yourself real comfortable in my sheets, ass out for me to play with, you think you can do that for me?” 

You’re nodding your head in answer but it’s the soldiers’ time to play. He grips your jaw, “words Eden, you can’t be that cock drunk yet.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He grins planting a kiss on your waiting lips, “good girl, get up there.” You do as he says sliding up the bed, you don’t get far before he stops you with a hand on your hip. “Oh, and Eden keep being a good girl for me and you’ll really be staying the night tonight.” 

His words have your heart racing in your chest, teeth biting back the grin that threatens to break your lips. You're thankful for the pillow and sheets that hide the warmth filling your cheeks, though it does little to quell the butterflies erupting in your stomach. Everything smells like him; you want to drown in it. 

You situate yourself in his sheets curled onto your side, leg hiked high in the sheets leaving your bottom pushed out for him. You burrow yourself into his pillow eyes shutting as if you were really asleep, as if he had really let Eden Ivy stay the night.  

The room is quiet, darker now as he shuts off the light, you can feel him shuffle around his room, but don’t know where he is till you feel the dip of his bed behind you. Behind your closed lids you can see the faint light of the flash from his phone's camera. A true ‘amateur’ film touch. 

His touch comes shortly after and you can’t help the quiet ‘sleepy’ moan that builds in your chest, he shushes you softly, as his hand dancing over the skin of your exposed thigh. His hands feel you up groping you through the flimsy red fabric of your set. It doesn’t conceal the skin beneath it, the set so sheer he can see your the slick gathering between your thighs. 

He cups your pussy drawing another murmured moan from your lips, you shift in your ‘sleep’ and he stills. When you settle again he pulls the ‘wet’ fabric to the side giving the camera a picturesque view of your “petty wet pussy”. A shiver rolls itself down your spine when he slips a digit into your wet awaiting heat, it takes all of you not to ‘wake-up’, you moan instead. He fucks you with the lone digit, pulling it out just enough to stick another alongside the first.  

“So wet Eden, you dirty girl, wonder what you’re dreaming of.” 

You push back into his hand letting your moans build as he fucks his fingers into you, he doesn't let up in the build of your pleasure, sliding a third finger in to stretch you out for his cock. “Gotta get you stretched out for me Eden, gonna fuck this pretty little pussy – make it better than your dreams.” 

The ‘please’ is out of your lips before you can stop yourself, he chuckles body finally finding yours as he presses up against you, his phone still angled at your pussy where he fucks his fingers into you with vigor. “My pretty girl waking up for more, didn’t feed you enough earlier?” he questions. 

His words have you whimpering, he presses a wet kiss to your neck, licking your skin, “don’t worry baby,” he murmurs, “I’ve got you, don’t even have to open your eyes, gonna take real good care of you.” You find you want to open your eyes; you want to see him. You want to look into those cerulean blue eyes gone dark, those all to pink pouty lips parted in pleasure, you wanted to kiss him.  

And you do, your head turning, seeking out his lips, he goes to you easily, lips finding yours tasting you with his tongue.  

“Fuck I gotta get my cock in there, put you right back to sleep sweet girl.” 

His fingers slip from your pussy hand hooking around your thigh as he gets you into position. He slips his grey joggers down just enough to get his hardened cock out. He gets annoyed with his phone trying to find the perfect angle to slide against you, he finds it groan building in his chest as he presses forward, the head of his cock pressing past your drenched folds, his hips roll forward the tip of his cock brushing against your clit. 

The noises you make are music to his ears, he wants more. 

Grabbing hold of his leaking cock he drags it through your slick folds pressing into your warm heat, a moan falling from your lips as he bottoms out, your body pushes back, ass flush against his hips. 

His head meets your shoulder, ragged breaths fanning across your skin, “fuck this pussy is addicting,” he groans feeling you flutter and clench around the length of him. 

He pulls his hips back, cock sliding out from within you till only the tip is left, he slides back in again making sure to get every inch of it. The buildup is slow, as he fucks up into you, he wants to capture every part of the way your pussy takes him, and he lets you know just how well she is. “She takes me so well, always so fucking hungry for it.” 

If you had trouble keeping quiet then, it's almost impossible to quiet your moans now as he fucks into you with vigor, a steady speed which has the sweetest groans of pleasure falling from your lips and his. “Fuck you’re close aren’t you, can feel her clenching for me baby, you wanna cum for me?” He quickens his thrusts, pressing himself deep, your walls fluttering around him as pleasure builds.    

“Soldat,” you whine low in your throat as if you’re being roused from the depths of your sleep. “There she is,” he chuckles picking up speed needing to bring you to that release. It doesn’t take you long to fall apart around him, his cock taking you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure. Moan's part your lips, fingers curling around the sheets as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your stage name falls from his lips in a silent prayer, “come for me,” you breathe, “fill me up again.” 

Your words have him falling over the edge with you, his jaw clenching as his orgasm washes over him, his stomach muscles tense, as he spills into you, warm spurts filling your core. “Fuck take it, take my cum Eden.” 

You’d take it all and then some if he let you. 

You groan when he slips his cock from you, the flash on his phone bright as he shines it between your legs capturing the moment his cum slides from your pussy. You moan when he pushes it right back in with his fingers. He stops the video, the light going with it as he tosses his phone somewhere on his bed the hand that wasn’t buried between your thighs cradling your head, bringing you closer to him his lips finding yours in the dark. 

“Does this mean Eden Ivy gets to stay the night?” 

“No, but you do.” 

[ladybl4ckbird]

If Byler isn't endgame, then the stage director are ALL crazy

Okay, here we go. I'm definitely not a actor, even though I dabbled in it during my school years, but I wanted to talk about what the hell the stage director was thinking while shooting all those scenes with El and Mike. Even though I'm not in the business, I KNOW there are some people behind the camera coordinating every single movement of the actors and their characters. Hell, that's what directing is for, right?

If Milkvan was written to be endgame, then what the hell were the directors doing to Finn and Noah? Especially Finn, anyway? Let's give some specific examples here, okay?

Season three. In the very first episode, we have the makeout scenes between Mike and El, where they're supposedly two clingy, passionate young people who can't keep their hands off each other. I was a teenager, so I know what it's like to feel that euphoria and all. But then why the hell did the directors instruct Finn (Mike) to push Millie's (El) hands away during their kisses? It wasn't a random move, folks. It wouldn't even be in a school play, let alone on a show as colossal as ST. If I were a director (I'm not, and I might be talking a lot of nonsense here) and I were shooting a scene between two young lovers, euphoric after a year apart, I would literally deepen the kiss or at least have them embracing. What's that, anyway? They're literally cross-legged in front of each other, knees touching, crooked and awkward. Who the hell kisses like that?

Season three. El has just told Mike that she loves him too, is leaving for California, and they won't see each other for a long time. Why the hell would the director coordinate the scene that way? I mean, what were they doing there anyway? Why did they instruct Finn to look so confused and awkward? And the open eyes? Damn it, Mike, your girlfriend is leaving and you're in love, hug her now for God's sake! But no. NO. The instruction was completely opposite to what would be expected. Again, it wasn't by chance.

Season four. Do I really need to talk about the airport scene? I mean, I have ulcers from how embarrassed I am for Mike there. Shit, what was that? Well, let's skip it because I simply don't need to talk about it when it's so obvious, right? Let's talk about the van after El punches Angela at Rink OMania. Why would the stage direction instruct Finn (Mike) to face Noah (Will) when his character's girlfriend is completely devastated RIGHT THERE? It's like, "Well, Finn, we know El is hurting, but Mike doesn't need to comfort her after months apart like any loving and concerned boyfriend would, just look at Noah and we'll be fine." What the hell?

I could break down all the Byler scenes from a directorial perspective, but I think you get my point here. Finn and Noah didn't act voluntarily in any of the scenes; it was all SPECIFICALLY COORDINATED at every moment. Finn himself said that the directors told him that, in the future, the dedication and attention to detail in the van scene would be "worth it." So, if Milkvan was written to be Endgame, the directors are doing a terrible job of directing the scenes according to what the writers wrote. Maybe they're all crazy, and the production and final edit simply thought it wasn't worth fixing (ironic laughter).

Anyway, Byler is Endgame, there's no doubt about it.

[withhugsandkisses]

daisuke, you shouldn't have ! ..really

wrote this with fem reader in mind, but i think it could be seen as gen neutral! daisuke tries to impress you by doing stupid cliche stuff. i thought about this, and i wasn't gunna write it but everyone (one person) said they'd read it so here we go! fluffy , fluffy, stupid fluff. proofread once, if any mistakes pls tell me

the amusement park was fun. you swore you'd never go on a date there because you were embarrassed of your scream on rollercoasters. but it didn't matter anymore since daisuke's was equally as ,if not more, bad.

walking hand in hand with him, you nodded as he spoke about god knows what, cotton candy in his hand. that's when your eyes drifted and you saw such a cute plush! hanging right there, practically begging you to take it home with you! "oh my god." you spoke out instinctively.

"what? what? babe, what??" your boyfriend spoke fast, noticing how fast your face was to drop. he noticed your eyes looking behind him and quickly turned around to see what caught your gaze. ahhh that plushie. making eye contact with it, he felt the biggest smirk fall upon his face. he used to wish upon stars for movie moments like this.

your trance was broken when cotton candy was shoved into your face. "hold this." you heard daisuke say smugly. you were taken back at first, holding the cotton candy reluctantly. but when daisuke started to stretch his arms, you felt yourself smile. "i'll win that for ya babe, no biggie at all!" he said a little too proudly, striding up to the carnival game confidently. you followed behind with a pep in your step.

daisuke pulled out his wallet, grabbing some cash and handing it to the stand worker. "three balls please." the stand worker nodded, taking his cash and giving him three baseball balls upon his request. so it was one of these games. he looked behind him, straight to you to give you a wink.

when you made eye contact with him, you realised your face had changed. you knew how these type games could be. you started to doubt him. just a tiny tiny bit!! but he couldn't know that! you fixed your face quickly and nodded, giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

daisuke rose his hand and threw a ball, right in-between the cans. but it hardly did anything, merely shifting them slightly. it was no secret that daisuke dabbled in sports, so this outcome to him was unacceptable. he grunted and squinted his eyes. "okay.." you could hear him softly talking to himself through this.

grasping the second ball, he threw it, but again, to no avail. "what??" daisuke said a little louder, the shock evident in his voice. you had to stifle a laugh, not wanting him to hear you. you watched him grab the last ball as you bit off some of his cotton candy.

third times a charm? nah. the last ball didn't do anything either. daisuke squinted his eyes harder at the cans, as if he could just move it with his mind. he looked so annoyed. you walked up from behind him and placed your chin on his shoulder. "awhhh, its ok daisy." you cooed. "you know how these games can be-" this time you were cut off..by..his..hand? he shoved his hand in your face!

completely dismissing what you said, he grabbed more cash from his wallet and handed it to the stand worker. "three more..please." he was always so respectful, even when he was pissed off. you stepped back away from him, letting him do his thing.

this time it took longer. he spent more time trying to time his throws, doing his best to use what he learned from his sports lessons. but it felt like no matter what angle he threw at, he couldn't do it! you could sense the scowl on his face.

once again, you walked up to him, this time placing a hand on his arm sweetly. "ok i'm serious. let's find a ride to go on. i can probably look for this thing on amazon or someth-" "no" he cut you off again.

it felt like a time loop. he grabbed out his cash, asking for another round. now usually you'd feel inclined to tell him not to waste his money, but two things stopped you. one, he's basically rich due to his parents. two, you knew there was no stopping him. you silently questioned if this was even for you anymore. maybe it was for his ego, too stubborn to lose to a simple carnival game. you looked at his cotton candy. you had already finished about half of it.

he was on his second to last ball. daisuke took a deep breath and closed his eyes, like he was saying a silent prayer. you rolled your eyes. but that's when it happened. he threw the ball harder than he'd has been, right in the middle of the cans. whatever magic that's been holding them together was undone by his throw, the cans immediately falling out of place and scrambling onto the floor. your eyes were wide and you made eye contact with the stand worker who's eyes were also wide.

looking back to your boyfriend, you could see that daisuke was breathing heavily. it was like he took all his anger and put it into that throw. seeing that he won, his demeanour changed so quick. he looked at you proudly with a big toothy smile, you could practically see his tail wagging. the stand worker spoke up, taking both of your attention. "what um. what plush would you like..?" they asked you.

you pointed to the big plush. the reason for all this. the stand worker nodded and got the plush off the hook, handing it to you. you gave daisuke back his half eaten cotton candy, and took the plush happily. feeling the soft, fluffy fabric made it all worth it. you looked into it's eyes, your own sparkling like a child's.

leaving the stand, your boyfriend took one of your hands and guided you since you couldn't stop looking at your new child. "see, told you i'd win!"

you scoffed and rolled your eyes, looking over to him. "yeah whatever godzilla, you practically destroyed those cans." you teased, seeing the boys face redden just a tiny bit.

"yeah. ok. like..whatever, you still got your prize." he retorted.

you leaned in closer and let out a hum in agreement. leaning up a little, you kissed his cheek. "thank you, my love!"

you heard his stupid giggle as you now took the lead to the newest rollercoaster.

an: yes yes waiter! more fluff material please! im in love with it! also im thinking of writing for mha characters too...but im SCARED!! im so worried id mischaracterise them so hard oof...

[chan-hvgs]

Hiiiiiii, it’s me again. Maybe about hyunjin and reader painting but he helps her cuz she’s not really good at it?? lol. Something cute and soft 🥟❤️

The photos above are not mine! They're from pinterest and belong to their rightful owners.

Ship(s)/Characters: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 490

CW: Fluff, kisses, pet names, slight crack?

Summary: You wanted to get closer to your boyfriend by dabbling into his hobbies. Who knew it would be so hard.

The drop cloth balled beneath your knees as you leaned back, staring at the canvas in front of you with a frown. You tilted your head, hoping a new angle would make the colors blend more logically, yet it never did. You’d been fussing over the same patch for what felt like hours, each adjustment somehow making it worse. 

You glanced over at your boyfriend, his legs crisscrossed as his lip was caught between his teeth in concentration, paint covered his hands and face as he worked, each stroke of his brush just as precise as the last smooth, confident—intentional. When he finally sat back for a moment, he shook his wrist out and glanced at you, a smile spreading on his face. 

“Are you done?” He questioned, peeking at your canvas. You turned it toward him with an exaggerated flourish, expecting encouragement. Instead, he let out a strange little sound, one hand flying to his mouth as his shoulders began to tremble, his lips in a tight line. “Oh my Gosh—don’t laugh!” you gasped, swatting at his arm. “It’s just... abstract,” you said between giggles. “Sorry you can’t see the vision.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, tipping forward to wrap his arms around you from behind, moving behind you and grabbing your wrists in his. He started guiding your arms onto the canvas“You just need a shadow here,” he murmured against your ear. His voice was calm, coaxing. “Watch what happens when we blend this tone with this one... see?” You watched in awe as he guided your hands, patiently explaining how and what he was doing with each stroke of the brush. Your original 3rd gra- no kindergarten level art to something recognizable is still a bit wonky, but with charm. Sure it wasn’t museum level but it was much more advanced. Hyunjin soon sat back, admiring the art. “Look at what you made, baby!” He half teased,  half mused, nudging your arm. You blinked at the canvas in disbelief, mouth slightly open. He smiled, kissing your cheek. He slid his canvas over so that it lay beside yours. His painting was a delicate arrangement of flowers, petals feathered with soft pastels that carried weight—like they meant more than just pretty colors. They always did with him. His emotions lived in his work. Yours was… well. A vaguely recognizable ferret. Maybe. It had big eyes. It was supposed to be the male beside you. You hoped he’d never figure that out based on the way it looks now. The male in question leaned over, kissing your cheek, “We really do make great art, darling,” he said, nudging your shoulder affectionately. You leaned into him, eyes still on the canvases in front of you, “Only because you saved it.” He shrugged, there was a pause, warm and lingering, as you looked at the two pieces side by side—his, full of soul; yours, a mess honestly. And somehow, together, they made sense.

(A/N: Ahh hi!! Thanks so much for requesting again, this was so cute and fun to write!! @mariam-ra I hope you enjoy! I wrote this pretty late at night so I hope it doesn't have to many mistakes! Let me know if there is! As always I hope you're all taking care of yourselves! Remember to eat a good meal and drink some water! You are loved! Have a good day/afternoon/night! Love y'all! -🐝)

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!

anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much

Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.

Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.

Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink

Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).

Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.

Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3

Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.

haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye

[jjenthusee]

Bets and Blindfolds

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: this started out as a silly idea, then ended up as my first dabble into smut? guess that’s the magic of october. ENJOY :) let me know your thoughts on the first 18+ on this account. For those who don’t read smut, we will be back to regularly schedule angst and fluff soon 😌

Summary: As a Dr. Pepper lover, Jason judges your expertise in the soda and it gets kinda freaky? (Don’t judge me, this spiraled)

Tags: sorry to all the dr pepper haters, actually no i’m not sorry, unhinged fic, please don’t take my blog away from me, i was actually drinking a pepsi while i wrote this 👨🏽‍🦳, serial kisser jason, clingy jason?, blindfolds 😏, kitchen freakiness lol, crack fic but also smut?, i must include fluff cause its ingrained in my veins, MDNI 18+ only, no specifications on reader, let me know if i implied any

Word Count: 4.6k

“No, Jay, it’s wrong.” You couldn’t mask the stubbornness in your voice, this was where you drew the line.

“Sweets, I think you’re just hangry.”

Jason sat across from you at a table, the bustling noise of the hole in the wall restaurant around him as he tried to reason with you.

“Look at the color, it’s not dark enough and the flavoring is off.” You eyed him, irritation making your voice fluctuate as you pointed to your drink.

Jason looks down at the cold glass of carbonated soda placed on the table between you. The ice cubes floated in a perfectly fine glass of Dr. Pepper.

“Right.” Jason looked back up at you, unamused at your unwavering need to prove to him that you are a connoisseur of the soft drink.

“You’re judging me, but I’m not backing down on this.” You leaned back in your chair, distancing yourself from Jason despite the limited space.

“Sweetheart, we can get you another drink if you don’t like it.” He reached out to try to pry your hand from your arms lazily crossed in front of you.

You fought against his calloused hand by keeping your arms firmly in place. Only wavering in the soothing rubs on your forearm.

But you were stronger. You’ve grown mentally.

Jason spoke again at your silence.

“Look, I’ll ask them to get you another glass.” He slowly reached his hand up to wave down the man who took your order.

You suddenly reached forward to slam his hand back down, timidly looking back to the man who thankfully never saw Jason’s hand.

Only briefly glancing back at the ruckus you were causing.

“Are you crazy? I’m not a monster, Jay. I can’t send it back, I’ll drink it.” You whispered loudly, not even willing to consider replacing your drink.

In an intoxicating lean, Jason enveloped your hand in his, still amused at the lightning speed you threw his hand down.

“If you wanted to hold my hand that badly, you could’ve just asked Sweets.” Jason smiled into your intertwined hands, kissing the back of yours.

You were about to argue back when you noticed the employee bringing your food. Quietly, you slurped down the unsatisfactory drink through your bent straw.

“Two house specials.” The man sat your plates down, looking in between the grinning expression on Jason and your irritation masked in a polite smile.

After you exchanged “Thank you’s” to the employee, you released your hand from Jason’s warm ones.

“Don’t think we’re done with this conversation cause our food is here.” You took a bite of your food, satisfied in the taste.

“I still don’t believe there’s a difference in the taste.” Jason looked at his food, handing you napkins.

Taking the single sheet, you dabbed at your mouth.

“Says the man who will eat anything you throw at him. You're not a reliable source.” You continued to eat.

“This is a lot of talk for someone who can’t stand certain textures of food—”

“Hey! Well…you're not wrong, but I can prove I know what I’m talking about.” You interrupted Jason, clear offense at the direct verbal shots he was taking on your food preferences.

“How?” Jason raised an eyebrow, enjoying edging at your competitiveness. You rarely got this worked up over many things, but food was always your trigger.

No matter the outcome, Jason felt like he won seeing your new quietly enraged reactions. Maybe affectionately picking on you would be his new favorite hobby.

“Bottle, can, fast food dispenser.” Your fingers raised at each choice you listed. “I can tell the difference.”

You mischievously smirked as you wiggled your three fingers at Jason.

“That’s only three, we need to up the stakes.” Jason watched your face barely falter. “Add zero sugar and have two different fast-food places.”

Jason lifted your last two fingers on your hand, totaling your full list to five Dr. Pepper choices.

“All or nothing, Sweets.” Jason intertwined his fingers again at your raised hand. You didn’t return the gesture as you contemplated—weighing your options.

“Whoever wins gets to buy dinner tomorrow.” Jason swayed your hand, you still didn’t reciprocate his hold, but he didn’t mind as he watched your head turn in thought.

When he felt you grip his hand back, Jason held back a smirk. You clasped his hand in an unconventional handshake, sealing the bet.

“Deal.” You brought his hand to your mouth, kissing the back of his like he did to yours earlier.

Once the bet was put aside, your excitement was in your need to finish your meal. You wanted to get the things on your way home and bicker more at your partner while you laughed and smiled into his arm.

You were thrilled as you stopped at individual fast-food joints and a store to gather each of the sodas on your way back to your apartment. The fast-food employees stared at your collection of drinks despite there only being two of you, but an underpaid worker has only so much care before they’re satisfied in you handing over some cash.

When you placed down all the choices on your kitchen counter, Jason disappeared into the bedroom. Grabbing a thin shirt of his, he folded it to be used as a perfect blindfold.

When you placed straws in each of the containers you nearly jumped out of your skin when you had realized Jason appeared quietly next to you.

With a hand over your heart as you felt your rapid heartbeats, you spoke.

“Jay, your steps remember?” You breathed out, trying to stay still despite how frightened you were at how quiet he can appear.

“Oh, right, sorry. I just brought this so you couldn’t see the choices.” Jason held up the folded shirt to your eyes, tying it to the back of your head.

Your vision went completely dark as you stood near your counter.

The sudden blind fold had you reaching out for Jason with hesitation, but in a quick grasp of your hand, Jason stepped closer. Guiding your hand to his arm.

“I’m right here, Sweets.” He kissed the side of your head.

You quietly smiled to yourself as you felt more secure in the darkness.

As you stood, you could hear Jason switching the can, bottle, and other containers.

As you patiently stood and thought about your current situation, it seemed silly that your night out had ended like this.

But who else would endure your last-minute shenanigans?

“Okay, it’s ready. You have five straws. No touching the containers and the straws are all the same height so no cheating.” Jason spoke as he waved a hand in front of you, making sure you didn’t react.

“Yes sir. I’m ready for the taste test.” You saluted playfully.

After the initial sips, you had narrowed down the test between the last two selections. Unsure which was the bottle and can.

In a sudden boost of pressure, you started to second guess yourself before you took a final sip to decide.

“Wait! I need a palette cleanser, get me some water.” You waved out to Jason.

“Okay, okay. Stop waving your hands, I’m right here.” Jason smiled through his words.

Once the glass was placed in your hands, you sipped the water, carefully washing out the sugary taste in your mouth. Then you took the final sips.

“I’m locking in my answers.” You nodded in agreement with yourself. “Dr. Pepper Zero, the can, fast food option one, the bottle, and the second fast food.”

You smirked. Staring in the wrong direction of Jason.

“I’m over here and your wrong—“ Jason triumphantly stood next to you, smiling at your blindfolded face.

His face was going to hurt from all the smiling by the end of the night.

“What!? No—“ You protested, swinging your body at his voice as the unconscious need to playfully nudge him took over.

Jason couldn’t help himself and laughed, watching you lose your mind at his obvious lie.

“I’m kidding, you got them all right you psycho.” He smiled at your face lighting up despite being half covered.

You threw yourself into Jason again, feeling for his face as you pecked him on the edge of his lips. Happiness radiating off your body as you couldn’t wait for dinner tomorrow.

In your surge of excitement, you slightly bounced at the bases of your feet. You couldn’t see, but Jason was slowly following behind, waiting for the right moment to grab your hand.

Between your moments of glee and celebration, your fingers locked with Jason’s, pulling you back into his muscular body.

It felt solid, secure.

While you basked in the touch of your lover, Jason gazed down at you. Watching the crown of your head as you nuzzled into his shirt. Tracing the blindfold as his thoughts bounced in his head.

You were leaning your head against the slow thumps of Jason’s heart. Tiny pulses that you felt on the side of your face.

Jason reached to you, his fingers hooking underneath your chin to lift your face to him.

In your blindness, you would struggle to freely move about, wondering if you were going to bump a corner, but in this moment, you knew Jason was drawing near.

He pressed a full kiss to your lips and you paused, relishing in his initiation.

The kiss was brief, so soft that you two stood still, faces still so close to let it settle in the air.

You smiled from the feeling, being held, and his pulse slowly rising as your fingers laid on his chest.

Jason, love drunk on you, stared shamelessly at your lips. Eyes glossy as he nuzzled his forehead to you, somehow trying to morph your skin together.

His hair frayed, growing messy at the back-and-forth motion.

You chuckled at the feeling.

“Jay, let me—“

Your thought was never finished before he leaned his head further to the side, his jaw crooked at the right angle to capture your lips once again.

He had taken advantage of your mouth opening to speak as he let his tongue press into yours.

New, deeper sounds were leaving your mouth and his.

Your thoughts were vanishing by the millisecond.

Each time he pressed into you further, you felt your body and head move as well, and you would let him guide you anywhere.

“You taste like Dr. Pepper.” Jason playfully complained, pulling away briefly, but your mind was entirely mush by his exhilarating, yet precise kisses.

He continued to gently hold your face, slowly rubbing his fingers against your skin, despite his complaints. He could say all he wanted, but his flushed ears and the intensity in his eyes looked ready to numb your mind one slow kiss at a time.

“You take that back or we’re breaking up—”

Jason pulled your face closer, cutting off any further teasing threats and wrapping his hands around your accusing finger you pointed at him.

You felt your hand and arm go limp at his touch.

“I actually really love Dr. Pepper.” He immediately responded, leaning into you. You were still blind folded as he pushed you back, getting closer to the kitchen counter.

“Lies.” You answered back in between smooches, nipping at his bottom lip, stirring at his need to keep the leisure momentum.

Jason had lost the bet, but he was celebrating way more than you were.

He suddenly dipped your body back, taking you by surprise as he continued to capture your breath. The pressure of his body into you was euphoric, giving you a small taste into the thoughts he was having, at the possibilities he was setting for you tonight.

It was nice until you were digging your lower back onto the edge of the counter. Tiny rubs against your back that you ignored, but it still ached.

Sensing your discomfort, Jason leaned you back into him away from the counter. He briefly leaned down to let his arms wrap underneath your legs to lift your whole weight into him.

You grabbed onto his biceps, balancing yourself until you tried to feel for the counter underneath you.

While you were momentarily in the air, Jason admired you, taking the chance of your covered eyes to just stare. To let him relish that he was holding someone so precious, so important to his happiness that he didn’t know what else to do but kiss into your shirt, directly over your heart.

A sacred, long, drawn-out kiss was placed to the center of your chest. It held all of Jason’s silent “Thank you’s” to whatever brought him to this moment.

Feeling the warmth, you cradled Jason’s head into your arms, letting your fingers rub at the spot of his neck that you know held a lot of tension from his helmet.

You gave a final kiss to Jason’s hair before you were sat on the top of the counter, your legs dangling off the edge.

Jason’s breathing was becoming hasty, built up from the emotional highs of your shared love and intimacy that he was losing control of his want to take this night slow.

As he silently dealt with his internal struggles, you were focused on trying to feel for Jason.

Your hands met the fabric of his shirt, letting your hands move up his chest as you concentrated on the mounds of each muscle on your fingers and palms.

Each dip and lift making Jason’s chest rise and fall more abruptly the more you moved.

He was supposed to be taking your breath away, but you were the one unknowingly and effortlessly taking away his.

Jason’s head had leaned back to control his thoughts, his veins had bulged in his neck at how tense his body was as you let your hands roam free.

He no longer had any more patience to spare if you continued this a second longer.

While he fought with himself, you felt the hands he had placed on your legs rub harder into you. Each press made your body flinch at the pressure.

You were getting antsy.

When you got to Jason’s collarbone, you traced the curve of his bones. Slowly dragging a finger.

You took a sharp breath when Jason squeezed your leg a little more fiercely, causing the sound in your throat to cast out an unfamiliar voice from you.

You were going to shut your mouth, but Jason had already lifted one of his hands to cup your jaw, tilting your face to the side. Pivoting your faces in opposite angles trying to get even closer than you already were.

You felt his tongue again, but the ferocity of it was immensely different from his previous kiss.

That one was patient, calculated.

This was carnal, desperate.

You were enjoying this new side of Jason. He was always deliberate, intentional, and ready for the unknown, but what he was giving you was raw, hungry.

In another squeeze to your leg, you brushed your hips forward, silently begging for another one of his intoxicating presses.

Without a moment's hesitation, he obliged. Moving his hand further up your leg to give you a firmer grip as he pressed his face into your neck, trying to leave a mark on your skin.

Too lost into the feeling, you threw your head back in the pleasure, bumping your head into the cabinet behind you.

The slight pain had knocked you back into reality.

Jason had quickly lifted his head at the sound, as he held your head.

You laughed at the change in atmosphere, letting Jason nurture your head to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away.” Jason apologized as he panted. The tension in your shared touches not fully gone from him.

You smiled, knowing in your heart that he was worrying too much about you.

“It’s okay.” You lightheartedly soothed him, going back to the intoxicating rubs you had on him earlier. Rubbing at his muscular arms, leaning in to kiss where you could.

You kissed his shoulder and his neck to slowly ease him back into the desire you had for one another.

It was slow, but effective in calming Jason.

“Are you sure?” He hummed, closing his eyes to focus on your touch again.

“Mm.” You kissed up his neck.

Before you could get to his jaw, you leaned in to suck a little harder on his skin, swirling your tongue on the flesh that you hoped would bruise.

Jason lowly gasped at the tiny prick at his throat.

He tried to muffle his sounds, but he didn’t last long before he lightly panted at your soothing peck.

When you reached his face, you kissed his chin, his stubble tickling your own skin.

The feeling boosting your own pleasure at the man held on the palm of your hand.

You licked into Jason’s mouth, moving your arms around his neck to pull him to you.

You continued to kiss him, going back to the languid tension.

In a small pop between your mouths, Jason spoke, slow and relaxed.

“If this is how we act to a small bet, I wonder what would happen if I took you to the Dr. Pepper Museum.” Jason smiled against your lips, speaking in-between longing pecks.

“There’s a museum?” You asked in awe, impassively scratching at the back of his neck, earning yourself a drawn out breathe from him. “Might have to put a ring on you.” You carefully leaned back into the cabinet as Jason kept up his kissing shenanigans on your neck, collarbone, and your arms.

You laughed as the kisses became playful nips at your skin.

“Proposing at the Dr. Pepper Museum? And they say romance is dead.” Jason placed one last mark on the inner of your wrist, completing the affection in a final kiss on your ring finger.

“In Dr. Pepper shirts.” You cradled his face in your hands at your suggestion, smiling at the sudden pause you felt from your lover.

“Oh no, I love you, but we need to draw a line now.” Jason laughed, low and relaxed as he basked in the touch of your hands on his face. Your hands pricked at the subtle itch of his stubble under your palms.

“Your limit is the shirts? That’s where you draw the line?” You laughed back as you reached up behind your head to loosen the knot of the T-shirt covering your eyes. “Just take off this blindfold so I can see you.”

“Nuh uh. I’m not finished yet.” Jason stopped your hands. Gently bringing them above your head.

Your wrists were caught between his singular hand, very loosely, but who were you to try to deny the man his plans?

You were curious how he wanted to continue the night.

With your hands raised above your head, you could focus on the feeling of his hands dragging down your body.

His fingers pausing, opening buttons and zippers to reveal more of your skin.

Each time a new portion was revealed, he kissed the hot skin.

Your senses were elevating each time you felt his lips press down. It was a new feeling that had you gasping.

He lowered himself down further and further. Taking advantage of your inability to see his thoughts and actions.

Your stomach warmed as Jason’s fingers slowly dragged at your revealed skin. Finding the brief warmth in between fabric, caressing you, teasing in a way that got your body following and anticipating the slightest movement of his hands.

It was intoxicating as your lips opened to suddenly try to breathe as his touches made you lose your breath.

As your body slightly squirmed, you were slipping to the edge of the counter. It didn’t help that Jason leaned into you, opening your legs further apart to settle himself snugly against you. Keeping you on the counter, flush against him, unable to move further.

When you did try to move, it only added friction to your already flush bodies, igniting another warmth as his voice lulled close to you.

“Breathe, Sweets.” Jason strained at your movements.

You were going to lose your mind.

His voice was deep, steady as he continued to hold your body in ways that made it feel impossible to do so.

In combination with his warm body slightly mimicking your itching movements, your stomach went taut at the stimulation of everything this man managed to make you feel.

It felt all too much, but not enough.

“So much talk today, but you can’t seem to talk back.” Jason talked against your lips, dragging closer then pulling away. “You can’t even remember to breathe.” Jason smirked watching you flinch at every drag of his words.

In your irritation at him getting too confident and your need for more, you edged your hips against Jason’s waist. Causing a sharp breath from the man standing in between your legs.

“Breathe, Jay.” You murmured back, no longer caring about testing your limits. Or maybe you wanted to test them.

Jason hunched over you, catching his breaths as sweat was starting to coat your skin and his.

In the lost breaths, you may have lost you inability to think, but you still had enough focus to try to make this man lose his mind too.

A small, coarse chuckle resonated in front of you, low breaths landed on your neck, drawing the hairs on your body to stand up.

Jason’s large free hand, rested on your stomach as he irritatingly dragged up your shirt to reveal more of what was already showing.

“I am.” Jason lowered his hand to cup you lower, just below your waist band to rub.

You twitched at the touch over your clothes, exhaling a deep breath that was stuck in your chest.

You were about to lose your entire mind, and he hadn’t even gotten your pants off.

Jason hiddenly smirked as you leaned your head back as much as you could into the cabinet behind you, but you couldn’t move without affecting the friction on your body.

It was a battle between two evils.

“You have two options. My mouth or my hands?” Jason spoke, his eyes dragging up your body watching you desperately taking in breaths.

You were long past being worried about how you looked, spread on the counter. Now you only focused on the need for more feeling.

You could hear his voice fading and resurfacing as you pried your fingers into Jason’s hand holding them up.

“You gotta tell me, Sweets.” He thickly spoke, adding pressure onto your hands, chasing the slight pain your nails dug into him.

He had always loved a little pain in your more intimate moments. Letting your pleasure drag out too long to handle it, until your pants were so guttural you could not recognize yourself, or when the scratches ran so deep into his back that your arms hurt from holding onto him.

“I need to know. Please.” Jason rubbed over your pants, his large fingers moving in various motions and strengths.

That had done it.

“Mouth.” You blurted out, no longer trying to find your voice.

You stretched your neck, your arms, anything to keep you from staying still at his fingers touching you so vulnerably.

Kissing your jaw in thanks, Jason let go of your hands.

“There’s that voice I love.” He murmured into your cheek, hypnotized by the smell of your sweat.

Your arms fell to the edges of the counter as Jason fully unbuttoned your pants.

You tried to not fight the slow pull of the fabric off your body, ready to kick off the pants, but Jason loved taking them off himself.

You had learned that lesson when he had come back a little more intense than usual after patrol and your curiosity got the better of you.

You have never screamed that loud in your life.

As much as you loved that Jason too, there was something so sweet about a patient lover that made you lose your mind in other ways.

After the fabric left your ankles, you had one final layer.

Jason took a sharp inhale at the sight he watched, getting closer to seeing all of you. He was losing his rationality at the anticipation to touch you.

Pressuring himself to wait.

Patience was a virtue.

In your fidgety anticipation, Jason lightly touched you, hand dragging over thin fabric covering you.

You hung your head, suddenly the blindfold felt so heavy.

You gasped, leaving your mouth open to how intense that single stroke felt.

“Oh, Sweets.” Jason inched his finger under the final waistband, lowering it all the way down your legs. Pulling your underwear off one leg at a time.

For a moment you couldn’t feel Jason’s touch as he tucked a portion of your underwear into his pocket.

Jason shook at the garment partially sticking out for his own view.

It was giving him a high that he had to control his shaky hands.

While Jason calmed himself, the cool air was nice against your hot body.

Your nerves were all on edge as you tried to grip onto the counter.

Jason had kept your legs up, using his strength to keep you in place as he lowered himself.

Once his messy hair had touched your lower abdomen and some stray strands had tickled the inner of your thighs, you couldn’t help but let out a sound.

Everything felt so excruciating, but in a way that you wanted more of it.

Craved it.

Jason’s mouth had touched you fully, nothing no longer keeping him separated from you and his arms grasped at your legs to keep you in place.

His large fingers dug into your skin.

You were sure Jason would trace the marks left on you in the morning, but he had another job he wanted to fulfill.

Sweet relief was spreading all over you each time you felt his mouth drag across you, maneuvering his tongue in ways that had you choking out his name in between breaths.

When the counter was not enough, you dragged your hands through his hair. Gaining a very appealing sound from his throat that vibrated through your legs.

You chased the high, battling against your senses to move away and toward Jason’s tongue and mouth.

When the small spark had hit through all your nerves, you knew he was moving in the ways your body always reacted to. That he had repeatedly watched and mastered in getting you to meet the sort of euphoria that had you shaking.

Within a few more scratches and pulling at his hair, your ears rung, and you pressed your eyelids closed despite them never being open the entire evening.

Sweat had encased your skin in a thin layer as your chest heaved.

Jason kissed your lower one last time, your eyebrows furrowed at the overstimulation that still hadn’t left, the sensitivity at its peak.

He was in no rush to move, kissing around your abdomen, leaving marks and nips as he pleased.

You were in no state to focus on any individual kisses, just catching your breath in a sloppy mess.

Jason had raised himself, holding and easing your legs down so he can stand up again. He brought his hand to wipe your sweaty hair and then to pull at the blindfold until it slipped off.

You could only drunkenly squint at the bright kitchen lights when Jason’s head leaned into to block out the brightness.

He pecked at your forehead, creating a path to your eyelids, to the tips of your nose and ending in one final drunken kiss to your lips. Before he could pull away, he nipped at your upper lip, but the pinch was numb as you could only lazily blink up at him.

Your look had Jason slowly smirking, proud of his dedication and meticulous work.

“Let’s finish this in the bedroom.” Jason brought you into his arms, effortlessly caring you to end the night without any rest.