#why do my led light strips turn on by themselves

[rbfclassy]

MONEY LOVE! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...toji loves to come into the club every week and spend his time watching you dance, finding himself infatuated with you

INFO...toji x stripper fem!reader, no smut, sexual tension, toji is kinda older, toji is rich, talks of blowjob, talks of sex, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

welcome to my second account everyone I’m @classyrbf but now I’m writing on here cause I’m shadowbanned so do not be alarmed if the writing and layout is similar bc it is me lol

At the end of every Friday, Toji finds himself driving to the strip club at the edge of town. The one that’s always crowded with gross old men looking to take one the dancers home for the night, ones that could never keep their hands to themselves, and eventually get kicked out for being too drunk. As much as he dislikes it, he only goes there for one thing. You.

He sits there, narrow eyes watching your figure sway around the pole, heels hitting the floor with each step you took. The bitter alcohol burns his throat as he takes a sip, watching the way you bend over in front of him, arching your back. All the others mutter around him, catcalling you and saying the most cliche things, but Toji keeps his thoughts to himself. Instead, he pulls out a wad of cash, counting the bills one by one. “Sweetheart,” he calls out to get your attention. You slowly turn towards him with a small smile. He hands you a few bills before saying, “keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll earn the rest.”

Toji knows that you’ve seen him before, always comes around the same time, the only man who tips big in this shitty town. The others just watch and get their dicks hard. With him, you’ve taken a liking, even if you didn’t know his name. He kept to himself, a reserved man, but he only ever watched you, wanted you. It made you feel special in a way. You kneel down in front of Toji, smirking at him. “What’s your name, Mister?” You ask, chuckling. Toji stares you down, a stoic expression on his face. “Oh, come on. You’re not gonna answer? I see you in here all the time,” you tease, reaching out to touch his hand. Still, no answer.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here!” The others shout out, whistling. You pull away from Toji, strutting across the stage to give the other men a show, wrapping your leg around the pole and twirling around it.

It isn’t until almost the end of your shift when your manager tells you someone requested a private dance. You were exhausted, but still, all you were thinking about was the money. Hopefully, whoever this person was had it. You changed into another scandalous outfit, freshening up before you headed over to the private rooms. Slowly opening the door, your eyes met with Toji’s. “Still here?” You smiled, shutting the door behind you.

He sat on the velvet couch, legs spread, the purple led lights bouncing off of his skin. You walked over to him, standing in between his legs as he stared up at you. “What is it that you’re looking for, hm?” You asked, leaning over so you were face to face with him. Your lips were only inches away from his. “I see you every week, same day, same time, yet I don’t even know your name.”

“Toji Fushiguro,” he answered, plainly.

“And what is it that you want, Toji?” Your hands slowly pushed him back, brining your legs over his waist, straddling him. The scent of expensive cologne filled your lungs.

He found it hard not to touch you right now, your body pressed right against him and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. He’s become infatuated with you, more infatuated than he’s ever wanted to be. He stared you in the eye, catching the glint and that smirk you always have. He finally decided to break the silence. “I want you.”

A laugh erupted from your chest as you shook your head at him. “We don’t do those kinds of services here. Strictly a strip club, Mr. Fushiguro.”

“I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying, sweetheart. I don’t mean sex,” he scoffed.

“Oh.” You blinked, shocked.

“I wanna take you on a date, spend time with you. You’re a beautiful girl who deserves more than old creeps trying to fuck her every second just because she’s doing her job. Though, it completely your choice.” He slightly tilted his head to the side.

“Do you…mean it?” You asked, mostly at a loss for words.

“When are you free?” He questioned.

“All day tomorrow, I’m not doing a thing,” you replied.

“Good.” He picked you up off of his lap, sitting you on the couch. “Here’s my number, text me.” He handed you a small slip of paper. “Oh, and here’s the rest of that cash.” He pulled out the wad of cash he had in his hand earlier, giving it to you like nothing. “When are you off work?”

“Um,” you stared up at his tall and muscular figure, “in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll take you home, I’ll be outside.” He walked out the room, leaving you sitting there on the couch dumbfounded. Did that seriously just happen? Muffled club music filled your ears as you sat there, staring into the room. Your gaze slowly shifted to the money in your hand, a mix of five thousand and ten thousand yen bills.

The back door the club squeaked as you opened it, the night breeze hitting you in the face as soon as you stepped out. A small shiver sent up your spine, heels clicking against the pavement, eyes wandering around the parking lot for Toji. Turning the corner, you caught sight of him. He was leaning against his car, cigarette in hand as he blew the excess smoke from his lungs. A smile crept up on your face, slowly walking over to him. “Hey,” you spoke, catching his attention.

He looked up, seeing you standing right in front of him. You adjusted the duffel bag you had on your shoulder, full of the money you made tonight and the outfits you had brought along. “You ready?” He asked, flicking his cigarette on the floor and snuffing it with his shoe. You gave a simple nod. He opened the passenger door for you, allowing you to get it first and shutting it behind you. The gesture made you smile even if it was the bare minimum. You’ve barely met this guy, yet he’s the first to treat you with more respect than anyone you’ve ever met. “Where do you live, sweetheart?”

“Oh, I live on 51st street, you know those apartments by the highway,” you informed.

“Yeah, I know, I pass by there all the time heading to work.” He reversed out of the parking lot, looking over his shoulder to make sure no cars were approaching.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything from me? Like at all? Not even a kiss? Heated makeout session? A blowjob?” You asked, laughing slightly.

Toji chuckled at you, shaking his head, “as much as I would love those things, no”

“Really?!” You asked, surprised.

“Really.” He glanced at you.

“Mmm, then how about after our first date?” You asked in a sultry tone.

“Do you really wanna fuck me that bad?” He stopped the car at a red light, turning his head to look at you.

“You kind of make it hard for me to not want to,” you explained, placing your hands around his arm, hugging it towards you.

“And why is that?” He placed his finger under your chin, lifting your chin. Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared into his dark eyes, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest.

“You’re the first guy to ever treat me nicely,” you quietly told.

“As much as I’m flattered, it’s basic human decency. So, get used to it, yeah?” The light turned green, Toji tearing his gaze away from you as he began to drive again. You put your hands back in your lap, fiddling with the fabric of your duffel bag. The rest of the car ride was silent, but not awkwardly silent. It was peaceful, the roads empty, and feeling the small breeze on your skin from the cracked window. It was almost enough to put you asleep until the car came to a full stop.

You looked up to see you were in front of your apartment building. As you undid your seatbelt, Toji stopped you. “Tomorrow five o’clock, I’ll be here.”

“And I’ll be ready.” You smiled. He watched you open the car door before you stopped and turned back to face him. You leaned in planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” you muttered and stepped out of the car. He made sure you got in the building safely before pulling off. The scent of your perfume lingered in the car, and he could feel the lipgloss from your kiss still on his cheek, though he felt no need to wipe it off. He knew he was going to make you his girl the moment he laid eyes on you that night three months ago.

[itsbubbleteataro]

The Bootlegger pt 6

Human! Alastar x reader Warnings: blood, gore, sexism. guns, weapons

Alastor had licked his arm with yours, helping to keep you steady as the two of you walked into the alley. The street lamps above buzzed and flickered at a poor attempt to keep themselves lit. Alastor's once straightened hair had now turned frizzy and puffy. You swayed lightly on your feet as the two of you strolled down the lane. Your purse swung lightly at your side as your heels clicked.

Al stopped in his tracks as a figure stumbled over clearly drunk. You stood up straighter, taking a sharp breath in as your eyes struggled to take in who exactly it was in front of you. Alastor's free hand went into his pocket, where his thumb traced over the switch blade he kept inside in case he ever needed it.

"Oh look, a broad" The voice slurred out before stepping under the street light. The voice belonged to a man dressed in lose fitting office clothing. he must have just ben kicked out of a close by speak easy.

You moved closer to Alastor, hoping that the man would be detoured. Sure Al may have had a slender and tall build, not displaying much muscle, but it was worth a shot at the end of the day.

Unlucky it did not seem to work. The strange man only approached further, reaching out to grab your shoulders. Al reached out his hand to stop him, only to be shoved to the side, landing against the stone wall with a grunt.

The man pushed you against the wall, panic filled your senses as you reached into your bag. This was the exact situation Jessie had given you your 1911 for. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the gun, before pulling it out of your bag. Al only saw the flash and the sound of a gun being fired as he looked up at you, then at the man who slumped forwards. He pulled himself up and walked over, pulling the man you had just shot off you. One look at the man told him everything he needed, he was dead.

Your hands shook and you dropped the gun, tears welded in your eyes. You did not mean to kill him, you were just scared. Your gaze turned to your hands as something soft wrapped around your shoulders. When you looked up, it was Al who was calmly buttoning up the jacket he had draped around your shoulders to hide the blood stains on your dress.

"A-Al..?" Your voice trembled as you looked at him. He was calm, very calm. "Don't worry Cher, I'll take care of this. Lets get you cleaned up okay?" All you could do was nod as he led you the back way away from the main streets to his home. He led you inside, and showed you where is bathroom was. He started a shower for you and laid clean clothes for you with a promise he would be back soon.

You had no idea what that meant and frankly did not want to know, so you stripped out of the bloody clothing and slipped into the shower. You stood in silence, taking the time to wash yourself and your hair thoroughly. Once stepping out of the shower, the image of the water running red made your stomach turn and bile rise in your throat.

Sure you were a bootlegger, but it was not often you had to shoot your weapon, let alone kill anyone as no one suspected a women to be trafficking's such goods. Splashing cool water on your face, you dressed in the clothing Al provided.

Your eyes drifted to a light dress that clearly belonged to a woman. You slipped it on and exited the bathroom. Looking around you heard humming coming from the living room. Following the sound, you spotted Al on the couch, your gun, disassembled on the table in front of him.

You took a seat across from him as he carefully cleaned your weapon. "Cher you ought to take better care of such a fine weapon." He broke the silence. He was so nonchalant, like such an ordeal did not just go down. "Don't worry my dear, everything is already taken care of, why don't you stay the night and get some rest hm?"

You, still in shock, blinked up at him like a deer in headlights. He was so calm about it, like it was an every day occurrence. Al must have seen the look on your face as he set down the parts of your gun carefully. "I won't turn you in Cher, I know you did not mean to kill him, even if he did deserve it. Go on and sleep, I'll stay out here on the couch, my room is free." Again, the same tone, like this was a normal day.

Nodding your head, you rose to your feet, then trudged your way to his room. You laid down, your body tired but your mind working overtime. The blankets were soft, well cared for and smelt of whisky and the forest outside.

The sounds that filled the home where Al's footsteps walking to the bathroom to retrieve your bloody clothing. You heard the water running for a moment, before his humming filled the air with the faint sound of scrubbing against something metal.

As you slept, Alastor's mind buzzed. He did not think twice before he acted, his body moved before his brain, the one thing he thought of was making sure you were okay and safe from the fuzz. While he hand washed your clothing he thought back to what he did with the corpse while you showered.

He had taken the corpse of the lesser man as he deemed it, and taken it back to the bayou. He had hacked the body up some and stripped him naked before throwing it in the swamp. Sure he could have made it look like it was his kill, but it sat wrong with him.

Once the body had sunken some, and had gotten the attention of a gator, he moved on to the next step. In the very fireplace that crackled in the living room, sat the ashes of the clothing he had burned. There was no more trace of the scum and Alastor was quite satisficed.

On the other hand, he knew he had to delay his plan more, yes, that did bother him, but, it was either he killed and raised more suspicions, or he let things blow over for you and then kill. He with drew his hand and checked out the clothing, seeing it was clean from dirt, grime and blood he was satisfied.

He hung the clothing up to dry before he stood up and stretched his arms above his head, then snuck into his room to get some clothing. He grabbed a pair of trousers and a lose fitting shirt to sleep in and clothing for the work day in the morning, then snuck back out.

-----

You woke a bit later than Al. When your eyes adjusted and the initial panic of waking up somewhere new subsided, you sat up and blinked. You spotted your clothing neatly folded on the dresser, with a note.

Getting out of the blush bed, you walked over and looked at the note that read;

"Good morning y/n,

I hope you have had a restful night. I have spoken with Jessie and she knows you are not to be at your work today. Please take the day to rest, I have left some breakfast for you in the oven and there is still coffee in the coffee pot.

Your friend,

Al"

Sighing lightly you looked at your clothing, then changed. Heading into the living room, you opened the oven, where a small stack of pancakes still steamed. Taking the plate out, your eyes settled on the table. It was already set for you, Al must have done it before he left, what a gentleman.

From the table where you set the breakfast down, you spotted a radio. Walking over, you flipped it on, and let the sound of your favorite radio show fill the room as you ate.

You cleaned up after you finished, washing the dishes and leaving them out to dry. You shut the radio off, and looked at the living room coffee table, where your gun lay assembled once again, and sparkling clean. You carefully placed it back in your bag, then left the house. You walked along the path back to the main street, trying to forget the fact that you had just shot a man.

Forcing those thoughts away, you thought about Al and how he was so calm through out the events, how he just dealt with everything. While you wanted to ask how and why he was, you figured you did not want to know the answer.

-----

You made your way home as sighed as you shut the door behind you. What were you gonna do? soon people would realize the man was missing, then the fuzz would come and oh goodness.

You had to calm down, so after taking your shoes and hat off, went to your little sewing room. You sat down, fished out a hoop and some thread. Shaking hands threaded the needle and started to emborder the dress you were working on as you had time.

The process was slow, but at least your mind started to clear.

------

Meanwhile in the studio, Alastor was in for one hell of a good show

[thebrokenmechanicalpencil]

A Deal

(@quibble-auk jokes on you my time management sucks and Im gonna be late anyway-)

Tw. Meh nothing really. Panic??

(Enjoy the pair that rotted my brain for a year straight, who I thought I had gotten away from. I'm so good at this writer stuff)

She smiles haphazardly, her hands shaking.

Mosaic was scared, terrified.

The elleth barely stopped her hand from leaping to her chest in anxiety, where her reminder of earlier failures sat in a crouch above her heart. A stutter of steps led to sideways glances from the servants, some whose eyes widened at the frazzled sight of the usually glowing queen. Barely holding herself together Mossie forced her breath to become even. The mere idea of being seen in such a state over being summoned by her own flesh and blood was once embarrassing. But things were different now.

Her heart skipped a thump at the sight of the ornate door, littered with symbols and embroidered in dazzling strips of light. Her skin soon became dripping and frozen in the practiced numbness, a sharp contrast to great windows and the warm yellow stoned hall surrounding her. Reaching out her pale hand, breathing suddenly felt difficult. When had the air become thick? Why did her lungs feel clogged? The seeds of a well known panic had barely enough time to become seated before she dug them out with a deep breath, and cool thoughts.

Stop, it's nerves Mossie. Only nerves. Seconds soon made themselves known as she stared at the handle-less door. She had to go. She couldn't allow herself to be cowardly with so much at stake. One final moment was allowed to calm herself, before she opened the heavy door.

The scent hit her like a bull.

A deep seated heat began to swirl in her belly at the sight of the dark hall, this part of the castle was alight in the sun at this time, usually. But no light was allowed past the heavy entrance. A shiver arched through Mosaic's back as the door shut behind her. 

The cold darkness prodded at her mind, as the panic began to swelter in her belly. Clenching her fists she forced her thin feet to move with even steps.

 Spine stiff, Mosaic began her trek down the ornate halls littered with war trophies and wealth. She had not been fifteen minutes ago in the most comfortable part of the castle. 

It was only warm and comforting due to the company she kept. Her room was empty of lovely things, except for her husband curled around their newborn babe. He had been curled around her also. His hooved feet twitching in his dreams, long dark curly hair caramel in the setting sun. His breathes feathered over her shoulder on the stiff sheets, tanned arms pressing her close. Mosie’s heart had been sleepy with love at the sight. But alas, contentment and the aura of home had been punctured by the smell of anger filling her nose. 

Without a word the white haired Elleth had untangled herself, trying her hardest not to make a scene. While she had almost made it over the frame a strong hand had gripped her wrist. Mosie had only shook her head, allowing herself a quick kiss to her fearful husband. Now as she grew closer to her own sister's study she felt his words float through her mind in a breeze of comfort. His voice warm and sticky with an accent that had once made her very heart beat faster, now smothered in husbandly protectiveness. “Do not be afraid of her, call for me and I will come.” Her sister wouldn't let him leave that prison of Mosie’s room till their meeting was over, but Mosaic hadn't told him that. No use in making him more aggressive towards someone who could take him away with ease. 

Past an oak frame far too soon she had entered her sister’s presence. The figure that had once filled her heart with adoration now stilled it with heat, adrenaline in the face of a predator.

It sat with it’s winged back to the white haired woman, large sleek yellow feathers still with calm. Mosaic didn't dare say a word, untrusting of her own tongue. Slowly with the ease of a beast in control, Rooksha turned her noseless face to look at her.

“Sister.” Voice solid with a hello.

“Rooksha..”

The feathered monster, instead of answering, seemed to only watch. Waiting for Mossie to explain herself most likely. Instead the youngest went on a very dangerous limb, “You summoned me?”

She was answered with a slow nod, the queen’s cold black obsidian eyes gleaming in the candles. “You married the faun, but no child was allowed. Yet you bring a babe into the skirts of my castle as if I would not notice.” Mosie winced at the venom coating the other woman’s words. “The boy,is my son yes. Bu-but-” A painful lump filled her throat at the sight of a shining claw slinking out of the sunny feathers. The blade-like tips flexed with impatience. “You directly disobeyed me Mosaic, I allowed you to marry the guard. You promised me no child. No blood shared.”

Rooskha had yet to show her fangs in anger, even while her speech mimicked it. It meant Mosie might still have time to ease her relative into a calmer state. “An accident if you would sister, believe me. One can hardly stand a lover’s embrace? You know my nature.” Mosie felt her already shaky story begin to crumble at the aura exuded by the feathered queen.

A scoff is what answered her. “You're defending yourself with the speech of a newly wed? You're better than that.” The large imposing figure stood and began to walk forward, feet clicking. The height of her once pretty sister was monstrous. Mosaic tried to urge a better excuse to slip from her tongue, but it was as if her sister's very presence began to leach her of her reasoning. Why had she allowed herself such a human mistake? How could she have let the thoughts of a son or daughter with his laugh and eyes cloud her judgement. The facade of confidence began to crack and shatter under her sister’s lead gaze. She and the demon had made a deal yet she had gone and broken it with no excuse to save the one produced from such a mistake? Blatant disregard for the eldest’s few and far between acts of mercy never went unpunished.

Fear cloaked her insides at the thought of her baby having to die because of her own stupidity. She hadn't realized how hard her shoulders had begun to shake in distress, her predator however took note of it with a flare of feathers.

“Please sister I beg of you, it was a mistake but the child can be sent away or eve-” Her sudden start of pleading was silenced by a large claw gently touching her jaw, tracing its shape. “Oh Mosaic you let yourself indulge in fantasies?” The snake whispered almost kindly.

Mosaic was shaking from the stress now, she had allowed the fear to cloud her mind and it was ruining her and any hope for her baby. “Don't kill the child please Rooksha I-I beg of you he's only a babe please.” The sharp sting of pain from her sister's fingers meant nothing to the agony in her ribs at the thought of losing her son, she slid to her knees, head bowed in a plea. It was her final chance, she was too deep in the panic to try and think of anything else. Her sister followed the youngest sister's crumpled form to the floor, running long fingers across her scalp and through her hair. Deep past the blind panic and heaving breaths Mossie remembered a time when her sister used to do the same action out of love, without a threat behind the touch.

“You lied to me little one, I cannot allow such things to take place, not even with you.”

An ugly sob tore from Mosie's throat, “I'm begging you I'll never disobey again,” A final idea sprang forth to her mind, scrambled and bleak.

But better than death.

“h-he will be under your command, his sword will be yours- He’ll serve you!” The broken cries slipped through the cracks of the demon’s  burnt heart. It swelled with malicious intent. “He will be mine? His soul will be mine to do with as I please?” She said it in such a kind, thoughtful way, how laced with poison the purrs were, “You vow if I allow him to become a man, he will be mine?” With the wondering tone Rooskas claws slipped cutting her sister’s scalp. Showing off the greed now blooming in the forest of feathers, distracting her.

Mosaic's heart leaped and snagged the hope. “YES, he will be your soldier, everything. Your blade!”

A tilt of her head, Rooska’s sweet but terrible scent clogged her throat, “As you are my right hand, little sister?”

There was truly greed there, and Mosaic exploited it with everything she could muster. “Yes dearest, as your right hand and with my son loyal to you and only you.”

A click of a growl was heard and the elleth knew she had won, but at what cost? 

“It is done.” 

[ruminativerabbi]

Rage and Regret

Dear Friends,

One of the surprises Jerusalem offered up to us shortly after we bought our apartment and began to explore the neighborhood was a peaceful cemetery just a few blocks from our street in which are interred 79 Indian soldiers who served with the Egyptian Expeditionary Force during the First World War, as well as the bodies of 290 Turkish prisoners-of-war who died while in British captivity. So it is a strange place, that cemetery: a Hindu burial ground in which are also buried hundreds of Muslims who fell far from home and who had to be buried somewhere. There are no individual graves; the British apparently decided to bury the dead in two mass graves, one for the Hindus and one for the Muslims. Facing stone monuments record the names of the dead.

We’ve walked by many times; Joan’s cousin Rina used to live just down the road. It’s a peaceful place, a quiet place. But it never fails to strike me how strange the whole concept is: hundreds and hundreds of young men who died in a war fought basically over nothing at all in a distant place and who were then shoveled into a common pit (why do I think white soldiers would have been buried in separate graves?) and left to sleep in the earth in a place that none of them would ever have thought to call home.

Walking by that place never fails to re-awaken in me my recollection of Joan’s and my visit to the Beersheva War Cemetery, the resting place of more than 1200 soldiers from the U.K., Australia, New Zealand, and India. It’s also a peaceful place, well-tended, verdant, and well watched over by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. But what is shocking about the place are the stones themselves: row after row after row featuring the graves of young men, some just teenagers, who died on the same horrific day in 1917. It was a terrible day, too. By the beginning of October in 1917, the British forces under the leadership of General Edmund Allenby were well entrenched along the Gaza-Beersheba road with the intention of seizing Beersheva from the Turks. By the end of the month, all was ready. And on October 31, the battle was joined. The attack was led by the 800 men of the 4th Australian Light Horse Brigade, brave souls who leapt on horseback over the Turkish trenches and continued on into Beersheva, while other branches of the army attacked the Turkish legions from the side. In the end, the attack was successful and the Turks were soundly defeated. In many ways, in fact, the tide of war turned against the Ottoman Turks at Beersheva. And, indeed, before a year passed, the war was over and Turkish Palestine, wrested from the Ottomans, was handed over by the League of Nations to the British.

But the cemetery has its own story to tell. Now shady and peaceful, the silence is more ominous than calming as you enter through the shady gate and come across row after row after row of young men who died, all of them, on October 31, 1917. The place is well worth visiting, but what the experience yields, or at least what it yielded in me, was a deep sense of sorrow, of loss, of the true tragedy of war. Young men who should have been planning their lives, their weddings, their careers, their futures…instead dead as part of the incomprehensible madness that was the First World War and planning nothing at all other than an eternity of moldering far from home in someone else’s soil.

That many of the dead at Beersheva were veterans of Gallipoli only makes the story even more tragic and more poignant. (I saw Peter Weir’s film, Gallipoli, when it came out in 1981 and still remember the harrowing effect it had on me. If any readers are still laboring under the delusion that war can be glorious, Gallipoli really is a must-see.)

And that brings me to Gaza. To most, Gaza is a strip of land that has been ruled over by too many different foreigners since its glory days as ancient Philistia. The Romans, the Crusaders, the Mamelukes, the Turks, the Egyptians, and the Israelis all tried their hand at governing the place; I get the sense from my reading that all of the above couldn’t leave fast enough once the opportunity presented itself. (And, yes, I know there are people in Israel now demonstrating in the streets in an attempt to provoke the government into re-establishing Jewish settlements in Gaza. Those people, with all respect, are living in a self-generated dream state fully divorced from reality.)

But Gaza has its own Jewish dead to consider. And I do not mean by that to reference the fallen of the current IDF campaign.

There was a very touching piece in the paper the other day about Israeli troops coming across Jewish graves in Gaza. And, indeed, the Gaza War Cemetery, established in 1920, contains the graves of over 3000 British and Commonwealth soldiers who died in the First, Second, and Third Battles of Gaza. And some of those soldiers were Jewish, which fact was duly recorded on their tombstones. I suppose the idea was that the IDF soldiers felt a sense of kinship with the Jewish soldiers buried in that place, which is almost an ordinary thought, but somehow the story—by Troy O. Fritzhand, which I read in the Algemeiner (click here)—affected me in a less expected way as well.

I understand the logic behind the Israeli war against Hamas. I have no trouble with Israel going to war with the forces of evil, with people whose hatred of Israel and its Jews expressed itself on October 7 with almost unimaginable barbarism and Nazi-style brutality. Nor do I have any trouble with the notion that, when fighting a war against evil, the only true sin is to lose. I hate the thought of civilian casualties. But I also understand that the fact that the hostages have been held now for more than 120 days means that time is running out. All that, I get. But part of me feels the weight of tragedy pressing down as I read the news day after day.

I hate Hamas for having started this war. I grieve daily for the 1200 Israelis murdered, maimed, and raped on October 7. I can’t stop thinking about the 225 IDF soldiers who have died so far in this terrible war. And I think about the Hamas soldiers too—each a victim of his own fanaticism and willingness to die as part of an army of terror, but each also once an innocent babe who could have grown up to live a peaceful, productive life, who could have brought joy instead of unimaginable misery to the world. And, of course, I think also of the civilians of Gaza, people who, yes, put Hamas into power and who are now paying the awful price for that colossal error of judgment, but the large majority of whom could surely not have imagined October 7 and its aftermath.

To know with certainty that you are on the right side of a war does not make the war less tragic. Nor does it make it any less crucial that you win. But the tragedy feels overwhelming. I wasn’t alive when the Allies carpet-bombed Germany, but I think I would have felt the same way about the 600,000+ civilians who died during those bombing campaigns, which number includes about 76,000 children. The Allied leadership did what they perceived to be necessary to win the war, which they did. But my response to the civilian death toll is not censorious outrage, but deep sadness. How can the Germans have made us do that to them? How can the Japanese have created a situation in which Hiroshima was imaginable, let alone actually doable? And how can Hamas have created this situation in which the only way to rescue our hostages is to go in on foot to find them and liberate them from their captors’ control? The civilian deaths in Gaza are, in my opinion, all on Hamas. But that doesn’t make them less tragic.

And those are my emotions this week: weariness (because I am so tired of this burden of worry and anxiety), outrage (because what kind of people can have thrust this upon us?), terrible sadness (because of the children of Gaza, all innocents, who are paying the terrible price for their parents’ bad decisions), resolve (because if not me, then who?), and, despite everything, hope (because the God of Israel neither slumbereth nor sleepeth, and surely, at least eventually, light always wins out over darkness).  I continue to pray, even more fervently than in the past months, for peace, for resolution, and for victory. I’m feeling the burden of it all. I suppose we all are. But the mitzvah of pidyon shvuyim, of redeeming those held in captivity, is key here: defeating evil is the means, but bringing the captives home is the goal. And that’s what I’m praying for, day in and day out.

[panticwritten]

Contract

Went back and forth on whether to post this, since it's from one of my novella drafts that I haven't touched in months but decided that this isn't going to make it into any of the final products (not in this form, at least). I love this one.

This takes place in a 'superhero' novella series I've been tossing around and was one of the first scenes I polished out after establishing for myself what the plot will look like.

Word count: 4844

Nothing too heavy in this one, but there are references to abuse/kidnapping and blackmail. A couple blood mentions.

The night shift wasn’t as exciting as Theo was led to believe. He asked for a solo position, but was denied. His case worker told him that in the fifteen years since his last job search, ‘solo’ was no longer an option for new hires, even for veterans in the industry.

The best they could do was a two-man outfit at a defunct airstrip on the edge of town. Only hobbyists still used the strip, but the guy who owned the property paid good money to keep permanent eyes on the place.

Mikhail flew in just to meet Theo and Cass, his new night guys, the afternoon before their first shift. He dazzled them with his landing on the strip, then gave an excited tour of the place. The grounds themselves weren’t very impressive, but Theo understood why he wanted them protected when he saw the rest of the facility.

Aside from the ground floor, the key-access elevator in the main building showed three sub-basements, as well as another, unlabeled button that required another key to use. They walked through the first two floors to get an idea of what they were protecting, and their new boss promised many opportunities to get to know him—and the many cars, planes, and other toys he had hidden beneath the strip—later.

That was only a week ago, full of quiet nights. He and Cass were getting to know each other well, and they were both looking forward to meeting the rest of the security team for an afternoon on the boss’s yacht the coming weekend.

“Gate 2 clear.”

The crackle of static preceded an acknowledgment on the other end of the line. He lowered his flashlight and continued toward the front of the hangar. He just had to check the third gate on the far side of the field and he could head back to the security office.

He was halfway around the building when a rattling sounded from the way he came, back toward the second gate. The distinctive rattling of a chain link fence had him doubling back at a light jog.

“Wait—I hear something. You got anything on gate 2?”

“Gate’s moving, but nothing’s there.” Cass hummed with a burst of static. “The wind, maybe?”

Before he could round the corner, Theo’s phone vibrated in his pocket. A poppy, loud ringtone followed, the one he’d set to override his other settings so he’d never miss his boss calling him.

Theo cursed. It was 3AM, why was he calling?

He paused at the corner and peeked around while he dug his phone out to answer.

“Hey, boss.” Theo stared at a shadowy figure on the other side of the fence. Nothing there, huh?

“Hey, bud!” The boss was just as high energy as ever, even in the middle of the night. “Just got word of a friend of mine coming in tonight, on foot. Let her in when she arrives.”

“A friend?”

Could that really be it? The figure shook the gate again and Cass asked him what was going on in his other ear.

“She’s had a rough night, nowhere else to go, all that. What kind of friend would I be to turn her away?”

“Yeah…” Theo was uncertain, but he nodded slowly. “Yes. Of course, I think she’s already here. I’ll let her in. Does she know where she’s going?”

A short laugh came from the other end.

“She’s very familiar with the compound. Thanks, bud.”

The line went dead and Theo finally left his hiding place behind the building. He reported to Cass what he’d been told, that everything is fine and he just needs to let the poor girl in.

“What girl?” Cass cut in in disbelief. “There’s no one there!”

But Theo was getting close to the gate and he watched the dark figure come into focus when he lifted his flashlight. The girl definitely looked like she’d been through the ringer.

She wore a uniform black tracksuit under a knee length overcoat, though the coat was barely holding together. Large gashes cut through the sleeves, and large circles of the body were simply missing. Dark, theatrical goggles hid her eyes, and more scrapes marred what little of her face he could see in the shadows.

“Hey, are you okay?” Theo shifted his grip on the flashlight so he could unlock the chains on the gate. “Mikhail said you had a rough night.”

She smiled thinly, just barely visible. “He would say that. I’ll be fine, though, I just need some sleep.”

“What the fuck.” Cass whispered in his ear.

Theo pulled the gate back and allowed her through. “He also said you’d know where to go. Do you need any help?”

She hesitated, then looked back through the gate. After some thought, she shook her head.

“Just make sure this gate is locked.” She started toward the back door of the main building, but looked back once again. Theo still couldn’t make out much of her face. “You shouldn’t come outside again until it’s light out.”

Theo straightened up, indignant. “We still have three more rounds, we have to—”

“It’s Theo, right?” she asked.

He nodded. She did the same.

“I look forward to getting to know you better, Theo, but you need to understand something about your new employer.” Her voice was quiet, almost too low to hear over the several yards distance between them. “He doesn’t care if you see the sun rise this morning. Stay inside until you do, just for today.”

She turned away and limped toward the building once again. He noticed only then that dark drops were left on the ground where she’d lingered.

He stared after her. Some friend she was.

Still, Theo followed instructions. He locked the chains back in place on the gate. Before he went back to the main building to meet with Cass, though, he pointed the flashlight out into the darkness.

Mikhail had impressed upon them how important it was to keep all of the lights in the exterior of the facility on—it was a recognized emergency landing site—but those lights were all on the other side of the main building. His beam stretched a good distance past the edge of the ambient light.

The light stopped suddenly 20 yards away. A wall of black cut clean across the road and let no light through. He watched long enough for it to jump forward another few feet before turning on his heel and sprinting for the same door the girl had disappeared through.

Mikhail may be wealthy enough to pay over median, but Theo was not paid enough to deal with whatever aberrant bullshit that was.

He locked the door behind him and intended to walk along the wall of the wide main room to make sure every window and door was securely locked. However, when he found the lock on the first window he checked smeared in blood, he looked around for the girl again.

She was across the room inspecting the hangar doors, her coat now discarded on the floor. It didn’t reveal much about her, though she was definitely younger than he originally thought. Sixteen, maybe.

He still walked along the wall to find the bloody evidence of her checking the doors ahead of him, and when he got closer he started to make out what she was saying.

“—like paper. If they really wanted to come in here, this is how they would do it.”

He noted blood dripping from the fingertips of her limp left arm, and another small pool was starting to form. When he got closer, she turned to regard him.

She still had those dark goggles on, and a ripped fabric mask bunched around her neck with the tight hood she already had pulled down. Her dark blonde hair was tied back and tucked down the back of her shirt. More blood caked the right side of her head and now-dried smears over the top half of her face, stark against her pale skin.

“It’s all locked down, nothing will get in,” she reported. “Just wait out the rest of your shift. I’ll brief you both tomorrow night.”

“What is that thing out there?” he asked.

She huffed a sigh. “A guard dog. I didn’t expect him to follow this far.”

The hangar door beside them rattled. Could have just been the wind, but that wall of darkness still lingered in Theo’s mind.

“An aberration?”

She stared at him. The door rattled again, harder this time, but she didn’t turn away. He couldn’t see her eyes, but her jaw was tight and concerned.

She reached up to take her goggles off. Clear, gray eyes met his.

“You should quit this job,” she said coldly. “If you’re worried about aberrations.”

Theo shook his head. This was the best opportunity he had. He couldn’t walk away because a little girl told him to. The work was easy, and his boss was kind, no matter what she had to say about the guy. He needed this money, didn’t know what he’d do without it.

“I can handle it.” He lied. “I need to know what it is to convince Cass not to go out there.”

The girl shrugged and brushed past him toward the elevator with an airy wave. “With your anomaly, you shouldn’t have much trouble.”

My…

Theo hadn’t even told his case worker about that. She told him that unless it would interfere with his work that there was no need to disclose, not for this position. He would never use it to… restrain someone? However she expected him to keep Cass inside, he wasn’t planning to.

He didn’t argue or try to follow, though. She was a friend of his boss and he didn’t want to risk his job. He’d figure out what to say and talk to her the next day, since she said she’d be there.

Instead, he stomped to the opposite side of the room to enter the security room. He ignored Cass, who immediately started up with questions, and went to watch the cameras.

The problem was, she wasn’t there on the camera pointed at the elevator.

“Theo—”

“Where’d she go?” he asked wildly. “Where is she?”

Cass stood wordlessly at the open door and pointed out at the girl who still stood next to the elevator, jabbing at the buttons. When the doors opened, she entered and turned back to face them.

She shook her hand in a casual salute as the doors closed her in.

Cass let the door to the security room close as well and joined Theo at the cameras. He was right from the start, she didn’t show up on them. They sat in silence until the light on the dashboard for the elevator turned off to signal she reached her destination.

“Who was that?” Cass asked quietly. “Where did she come from?”

“Mikhail said she was a friend.” He hesitated. “I think there was an aberration following her.”

Cass paled. “No way.”

“Didn’t you hear what she said?” Theo asked in disbelief. “She told us to stay inside until morning.”

“I’m not arguing with that.” Cass settled into his seat and looked at the cameras. “But, dude—I didn’t hear her say anything. I thought you were losing it until two seconds ago. Talking to yourself and shit.”

He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen her missing from the cameras himself. Cass could have been messing with him, but the look on his face at the mention of an aberration… yeah, Theo didn’t want to go out there again either.

Cass made him explain exactly what happened between clearing gate 2 and returning to the security room several times, but neither of them could divine any more information out of the encounter. 

Over the next couple hours, they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Theo listened at the hangar doors a few times, but they didn’t so much as twitch again. For the most part, they took turns watching the cameras and patrolling the rest of the building. Theo took the time to wipe away the blood with some cleaning supplies he found in a supply closet.

As the sky outside lightened and the fear of the night passed, both Theo and Cass started to feel a little silly and poked fun at each other. A hurt teenager showed up, told a wild tale, and the two of them hid inside instead of doing their jobs.

Though Theo still couldn’t shake the feeling he had when he saw that dark wall move, that punch of fear to the gut.

At around 5:00, boredom got the better of them and they sat to play cribbage—more for Cass to teach Theo how to play than anything, as he hadn’t played in years. Cass kept a board in his bag and it seemed as good a way to pass the time as any. It was getting light outside, but there was still another hour before the sun was meant to rise.

At 5:30 sharp, the elevator chimed to signal the girl’s return. She emerged with two clipboards and an impassive look on her face.

She looked much more alert, and most evidence of harm was gone. The only hint was a slight limp and the faintest red color where fluorescent light hit the hair where blood had been just hours before.

She’d changed into a more casual t-shirt and jeans, which revealed a thin strip of metal padlocked around her neck.

She joined them at the fold-out table they’d set up next to the hangar doors.

“You’re almost good to go, I just have some paperwork for you.” She said, flipping through the paper clipped to the board on top with a raised eyebrow.

Theo reached up for it, but she held it away from him.

She regarded him warily. Cass also tried to reach up and she took a step back with a more serious expression.

“Once I hand you these,” she said slowly. “You won’t be able to change your mind. Even if you decide not to sign, you can’t go back to before you looked at them.”

Theo and Cass exchanged glances.

“What do you mean, we can’t go back?” Cass asked.

She averted her eyes.

“Casper, please come with me.” She gestured toward the security room. “I’ll go over your forms with you privately.”

The two men shared another look, but Cass did stand slowly and follow her with a self-conscious smile. “Please, call me Cass.”

How bizarre, Theo mused as the door closed behind them, to go through the onboarding song and dance with a teenager.

He’d done plenty of paperwork with his case worker before signing on, but she did tell him there could be more. It depends on the company, she said

He shook his head and started packing up the card game for Cass. The paperwork would likely take up the rest of their shift, no point in finishing the game.

“—listen to this bullshit!”

Theo looked up at the shout from the security room. Raised voices followed, but not loud enough to make out the words.

“Everything okay?” Theo called.

No response. The voices grew quieter until he could no longer hear them. After a moment of silence, Cass burst out of the room.

“Hang on, just listen!” The girl followed him out, though she stopped just a few feet from the security room when he snapped around.

“I’m not signing that damn thing,” he growled. “I’m going home.”

He headed straight for Theo with a stormy look on his face.

Theo stood to meet him.

“Cass—”

“Don’t.” He wouldn’t make eye contact while he gathered up his things. “Come on, let’s go.”

What exactly did the contract say?

He asked, but Cass just shook his head and shouldered his bag. Everyone stood still for a long moment, then Cass looked at him with real fear in his eyes.

“Please.” He shifted away, toward the door between hangars that would bring him closest to their parked cars outside. “Don’t go in there. They don’t have enough on me to—”

“Careful.” The girl warned from her place by the security room. “You did sign the NDA.”

“That NDA doesn’t mean shit, and you know it.” Cass snapped at her. “Whatever. I won’t be blackmailed like this.”

Blackmailed?

Cass gave Theo one more pleading look, then stormed out of the hangar. Theo followed, but by the time he got outside Cass had already started his beat up Honda.

He rolled down his window and shouted. “Give me a call if you want to get drinks, dude. I sure as hell won’t be seeing you at work.”

He drove off. Theo watched him go until the main gate closed behind him and his car disappeared into the surrounding hills.

And Theo was alone. With her.

“Well?”

He turned back to the hangar to find her standing in the doorway with one of the clipboards. She gave it a light wave in his direction, an obvious question.

For the first time, he let himself really think about it.

The job had been simple and quiet so far, up until that night. Mikhail had made many promises about living the high life, and with how much he was paying they weren’t empty. This girl had burst in, covered in blood, talking about a person that simply did not fit with the image of his boss in his mind.

How did he know that she was telling the truth, anyway?

But whatever Cass saw in those papers…

“Do I have to?” Theo asked. “Sign that paperwork, I mean. Can I just keep doing my job without signing it?”

She paused and really thought about it with an uncertain sound.

“Maybe…” she mused slowly. She cocked her head and Theo noticed a little bud in her ear. Her eyes went out of focus for a moment before she continued. “You would still have to sign an NDA. You wouldn’t be able to come to company functions—including this weekend’s mixer, I’m afraid.”

Disappointment soured Theo’s hope.

“For now, at least.” She passed the clipboard from one hand to another. “I’m sure your blind loyalty would be rewarded eventually. One way or another.”

That didn’t sit right with him either.

“What’s in there that’s so terrible, anyway?” he finally asked.

Her consideration ended and she offered him the clipboard, though too far a distance remained between them for him to take it. “I can’t tell you anything until you sign the NDA and read the file yourself. Personally, I wouldn’t.”

Her head tilted again—listening, Theo assumed, to a voice in her ear—and she shook her head with a light grimace. She didn’t expand on that, though.

His options were to look, leave, or settle for ignorance.

He thought back, pictured the day he landed the job. Fatima had been ecstatic to see him back at work. Shelly, his ex-wife, was happy for him too. She knew he would use the money to spoil their daughter every chance he got.

It was the image of Theodosia’s face, in the end, that made his mind up for him. Whatever was in that file, this job would give her the best future money could afford.

He closed the distance between them and took the clipboard. She held tight for a second and seemed to ask if he was sure with her eyes, but she no longer tried to convince him not to take it.

“Read and sign the first page before looking at anything else.”

And she let go.

He read over the NDA at the top of the stack, a single page telling him that if he broke confidentiality that he could expect termination and legal action to follow.

It read as pretty innocuous, other than one line.

It stated that, if the NDA was broken, all related documents in some file would no longer be considered confidential or inactionable. It didn’t flat out say that the file would be released, but it did imply that there would be nothing stopping them from releasing it if he broke the contract. He assumed that file was the rest of the paperwork underneath—the blackmail, as Cass called it.

He took the pen offered to him and signed it.

He flipped the page and stared.

The first real page was a long list of names and contact information. He recognized most of them, though not all. The first few were obvious—his girlfriend, ex-wife, and daughter. Then his elderly parents, and after a moment he recognized the name of their live-in nurse.

Previous coworkers, bosses, teachers, even the owner of the sandwich shop he used to get all of his lunches at. As he flipped through the first several pages, he started to think that it could be a list of every single person he had ever met.

He got to the end of the list and shuddered to a frozen stop when he flipped to the next section. The pen slipped from his hand in his haste to read it in full.

It was him. A dossier all about him. From a mugshot from his trial a decade ago to his preference for chips over fries, they had everything. Every questionable thing he’d done, every move he ever made. All previous addresses, his anomaly and speculation on what abilities his daughter might develop. His regular schedules, everything.

After he’d gone through and studied the file, he found a second contract at the end. It was simple, and it lined out exactly what would be expected of him. Keep doing his job and follow any order given by his ‘superiors’, whatever that means, without question.

He finally looked up at the girl, who hadn’t said a word the whole time he read. She just stood there, waiting. He remembered her flipping through the papers before and wondered if that had been his or Cass’s.

Cass had been angry, but Theo was more surprised than anything. There wasn’t anything in there that would ruin his life if it got out, his only major crime had been answered for years ago.

“Okay,” he said weakly. “I need you to walk through this with me. Why should I be scared of this file?”

She nodded gravely and gestured back inside. “You’re going to want to sit down, I’m sure.”

They returned to the fold-out chair in the hangar and the girl took the clipboard back. She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Theo.

It was a grainy, timestamped picture of him letting her into the compound. She was visible in this one, somehow.

“This is evidence that you are an accomplice in espionage and a known associate with an aberrant party.” She stopped Theo’s impending argument with a gently raised hand. “This will be added to your file, though that’s not the part that you should worry about.”

Aberrant.

He realized it before she could say it and he sat back in his chair to stare at her.

The names.

“People around those who disappoint your employer don’t tend to last very long,” she said carefully. “This is a list of people that he will keep safe for you, and a list of sticks for him to use against you if you ever misbehave.”

He didn’t move.

She watched him right back, waiting. She held a pen.

“Can I still leave?” he asked quietly.

“You’re free to do whatever you want, up until you sign.” She shrugged. “As long as you don’t tell anyone about any of this.”

“None of this would hold up in court.” It was a feeble attempt and he knew it. Even before she laughed bitterly, he knew.

“Does it matter?” She left the pen in the middle of the table and relaxed back into her chair. “Even if you make your report and tell everyone, will it stop him from killing your parents? Will it promise your daughter will still be there when you get home?”

His blood ran cold. He could make it happen that fast, with that little warning?

She kept a straight face and stared him down.

He had whittled his options down to: Go home, knowing a very bad man had all of this information, or sign the contract and promise so many people’s safety. If he followed orders and stayed in his boss’s good graces.

All he had to do was be the security guy, right?

“What happens if I walk away?”

The girl shrugged.

“Even with your anomaly, I doubt he’d put much effort into keeping you. You’d be a great candidate for head of security if you wanted the job, though he has the resources to keep looking if you leave.”

Head of security.

“You might have a little more luck than the current department head.” She almost laughed again, a sarcastic smile remaining. “Some of our assets have a hard time taking orders from me.”

Theo knew for sure that he didn’t want whatever position she had.

Whatever look he had on his face made her expression soften.

“Interim head of security,” she clarified. “My real job is very unique; you shouldn’t find yourself directly committing any felonies in your role.”

“Directly,” he echoed. “But I would be committing felonies.”

“Accessory, maybe.” She waived a hand dismissively. She did not address what she said earlier, about associating with an aberrant party. “His insurance files are awful, but he keeps just as much documentation to keep us all safe.”

She said that, but before he read the file she seemed very keen for him to walk away. Last night she had told him to quit. Now, she sang a different tune.

Then he noticed her eyes go out of focus again before she said one more thing.

“He takes very good care of us.”

Suddenly, Theo couldn’t breathe. Something was very wrong. Had she been wearing that bud last night, when she told him to quit? Was any of this from her or was she reading lines?

How many of her promises were real?

He stood. She didn’t.

“Look, I really appreciate the consideration.” He backed up a few steps toward the door. “I don’t think I can accept. It’s a good offer, but—”

“The pros don’t outweigh the cons, I get it.” she nodded, but froze in the middle of the motion.

Her eyes slowly widened. She sat, rigid, staring at Theo with vacant eyes. Slowly, she reached up a hand and removed the bud from her ear. She ran her fingertips along the ring of metal around her neck idly once it was out.

“So, I’m gonna, uh.” Theo resolutely turned his back on her and started walking. “I’m outta here. It was—well, it was definitely something meeting you, kid.”

He blinked, and she was standing in front of the door, her eyes hard and mouth in a thin line. She held the clipboard.

“I’m sorry.” All trace of humor and understanding was gone. “I need you to sign it. You need you to sign it.”

Theo stopped, leaving a wide space between them. That was a big change from ‘I get it’, and he told her so.

“You don’t understand. He’ll—” She shook her head slowly and her eyes flicked back and forth, searching in the ether for what, he couldn’t say. “I underestimated how much he wants you. I guess he really liked you, I—I don’t know. You can’t go.”

Warmth flickered in Theo’s gut, but he quashed it down. He wouldn’t use his abilities against a little girl. He didn’t care who she was or who she worked for.

“I’m going home to my family,” he said firmly, and started forward again.

“He’s going to take her!” she blurted, stopping him in his tracks again. “If you leave now, he’ll take that little girl, and—”

And what? he screamed silently. What will he do?

She smoothed herself over, straightened up. Her expression was blank now, cold.

“He’s going to make her like me.” Her voice matched her expression, hollow and matter-of-fact. “I can’t let him do that, so I cannot let you leave.”

Like her.

He looked at her, really taking her in for the first time. He had a full foot on her, and she stood resolute despite the fear he heard in her outburst. A collared little girl doing the dirty work for an aberration. An aberration herself, held at practical gunpoint by whatever he has to keep her in line.

Was she just like Theodosia, when she was young? A stick to use against someone who just wouldn’t listen? Another daughter he stole as punishment, to turn into a tool? An asset?

He imagined it, that collar shackled around his daughter’s neck instead.

Theo didn’t say a word. He held out his hand for the clipboard and ignored the soft, relieved sigh from her when she handed it over.

He signed the contract.

[my313]

after hours ˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ choi beomgyu

(18+ MDNI PLEEEASEEEE!!!)

now playing 𝄞₊ ⊹ apple cider - beabadoobee & paradise - chase atlantic

⋆ pairing: fwb!beomgyu x afab!reader

⋆ summary: you and beomgyu have a very loose definition of being friends. repeated hookups under the guise of last minute 'hangouts' was one thing, but when those flaky plans turn into sleepovers and morning afters, are you still really 'friends'?

⋆ genre/themes/warnings: smut, hurt/comfort-ish, fluff, non-idol au, fwb to lovers, implied stoner!gyu, drunk!reader, reader wears makeup, switch!beomgyu, switch!reader, possessiveness, name-calling, degradation (slut, manwhore, fuckhole), praise (sweet boy, pretty girl, pretty boy), reader calls beomgyu’s (nonexistent) hoes bitches lol, dacryphilia, oral (m & f rec.), fingering, hair pulling, a lot of slapping??, dumbification, semi-public sex, unprotected sex ++ lmk if i missed anything!

⋆ word count: 7.1k

a/n: dont ask idk how i ended up writing it this long.... but EEEEE its here :D this is my entry for @junniieesbby and @boba-beom's tubatu bday event !!! also idk what possessed me while writing the smut part... dunno how to feel abt it tbh since its been a while so im rusty but we move!!! enjoy hehe

you can pinpoint exactly when beomgyu was just another boy who lounged on your bed for too long after a few rounds of sex, to a boy who managed to sleepover and learn how you had your cereal in the morning. before the copious amount of last-minute text messages and half-assed ‘hangouts’ that always led to tearful eyes and sore bodies, beomgyu could be loosely classified as a friend. an arm’s distance away, but both of you never bothered to reach out. not until it was for weed, and now, sex and whatever fucked up idea of friendship you both had. surely, friends didn’t hold hands, kiss, and help with one another’s groceries, right? 

speak of the devil. you’re pulled away from your thoughts when you feel beomgyu tug on the sleeve of your sweater – the one he always spent an extra minute snuggling into before stripping you off of it, the only reason you wear it so often – dragging you ever-so-slightly into his personal space. he insists on putting your head on his chest, perching his chin on your head and letting his hands guide themselves to the dips of your hips and waist. you can tell he smoked before having you over from the scent peeking out between the spritz of perfume you bought him for christmas. it’s evident in the way he’s melting into you, ready to shut his eyes and drift off with you in his arms.

“what’s got you using all your brain power?” he asked, voice muffled from pressing a kiss to the back of your head. you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches when you feel the warmth of his lips. you wish you could just mildly enjoy the fluttering feeling within you, but rather than a light buzz, it felt like an anchor situated in your chest. you’re too proud to admit that beomgyu’s the reason why. you’re too afraid to think that yeah, i do like him that much. 

you’re quiet for too long, so beomgyu pushes his nose further into your hair, his lips brushing against your scalp when he mumbles sleepily. “did you change your shampoo? what happened to the apple one?” he pauses before moving away from the back of your head. instead, he opts to rest his face between your neck and shoulder. “i like this one too, though. it smells like punch. it makes me wanna eat your hair…” 

“ew. please don’t,” you can’t help but laugh, cheeks still pink from having to hear beomgyu’s soft murmurs about the most miniscule details like your shampoo. “how did you even notice, gyu?” he lifts his head, donning an offended expression. “what do you mean? do you think that little of me, babe?” 

even the most ridiculous of his outbursts couldn’t distract you from the way he called you babe. you shake your head and roll your eyes, “this one was just the one on sale, babe.” 

it was beomgyu’s turn to blush. hearing you say it back makes him evidently more shy, and the heat radiating off both your bodies sticking together only makes him even redder. “hey, only i have the babe privileges, babe.” 

“and who let you have those privileges, choi beomgyu?” you raise a brow comically. bantering with beomgyu almost always ended with you both sprawled over any surface you’re on, bellies hurting from uncontrollable fits of laughter. “haven’t even taken me out on a date and you’re calling me babe? what happened to hey, how are you?”

“you gave me head in an alley, i dunno if that really applies to us anymore.” it’s obvious from his half-smug grin that he’s proud of his joke, earning a harsh slap on his forearm as you both are consumed by giggles and smiles. “shut up, i was drunk!”

beomgyu’s room is dark, only dimly-lit by the projection of howl’s moving castle on the blank wall. you might never know that he only bought that projector to have you in his room for reasons other than sex. he may never know that you didn’t need all that convincing anyway.

when the laughter dies down, the mood diverges from being silly to somewhat solemn. beomgyu’s stare is intense, contrasted by the soft smile tugging at his lips. the yellowy hue of the projector makes him look like a character from a ghibli movie, even without the shagginess of his long, auburn hair. he looks like almost princely with his short black hair.

“did you.. want me to take you on a date though?” he’s hesitant to pry open this conversation. it’s one you both have spent the last few months avoiding in spite of all the things you’ve already started feeling. you avert your gaze away from his, too all-consuming to stare right into. you’re afraid you’ll cave if you look at him any longer than a second. “i mean…” you trail off.

every passing second seems like forever for beomgyu, attempting to appear nonchalant to not scare you off, but he falters when you can’t even look his way. was he reading this all wrong? dejectedly, he tries to reel back his words as some form of damage control. 

“wait, sorry if that made you uncomfortable. we’re friends, it’s okay, you don’t have to answer.” he says in a panicky voice. this whole ordeal is sobering him up. “and i’m sorry i called you babe. especially if you don’t like it.”

seeing beomgyu visibly deflate only hurts you more, wincing inwardly at your throbbing chest. you’re stunned, overwhelmed by the glimpse of a tough conversation. you don’t pull away, but you’re not moving any closer either; it makes beomgyu feel like he’s in the middle of a field in a snowstorm, grim and desolate. when your thoughts drift uncontrollably, your tongue doesn’t catch up fast enough to clear the air and comfort beomgyu. 

you take too long to say anything again. beomgyu notices how you fidget with the hem of your shirt, taking the loose thread between your fingers to ease your anxiety. even though his heart sinking, he pushes the thought to the back of his mind and settles for a quiet, “let’s just sleep, okay?” 

he doesn’t give you a chance to pull yourself out of this well you’ve let yourself stumble into. not even a nod or a protest to his anticlimactic resolution to this dilemma. you’re met with the solid color of your (well, his now, you think) pink hoodie when you rest your head on his pillows. his adequately wide shoulders suddenly look so small, like he was curling into himself to be apart from you. you decide against doing the same; a hasty attempt of pulling him back down from wherever he was drifting to. you feel him tense when you drape your limbs over his, head safely tucked behind his back. beomgyu is hyper aware of how your chapped lips prickle against his nape, and he can definitely feel your breath when you let out a subdued apology.

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

the next time you see beomgyu, you can actually barely see him. the strobe lights shift from purple to orange, thick smoke floating in every crevice of the club. this is the first time in a while that you’ve gone out without him. usually, you’re both fishing for shots and him pushing you to some unassuming guy for a free drink that he can mooch off of too. it’s funny, until you start thinking about how he doesn’t even consider you as a potential romantic prospect to easily hand you onto another person.

you’re not sure if tonight would follow the same routine. ever since that night at beomgyu’s, he’s only bothered to reply to your texts dryly. you figure he’s not upset enough to ghost you, but he’s definitely not in the state to come over to bake cookies – and he’s definitely not in the mood to fuck your brains out. 

you block out the noise with another shot, coupled with restless thoughts reminiscing on your conversation with beomgyu. he almost seemed disappointed that you didn’t leap at the chance of a date; did he maybe expect you to say yes? you’re tempted to pull out your phone and ring him in the middle of the club. your eyes aimlessly scan the place, but one person is unmissable, even in your tipsy state. choi beomgyu was in this overcrowded shoebox.

it only takes a few stumbled strides towards the seating booth before you’re right in-front of a dumbfounded beomgyu. his eyes are glossed over and red, sitting next to a very drunk yeonjun. he doesn’t really know what to do, but thankfully, he’s saved from thinking of his next steps. you beat him to it with your grand gesture of throwing yourself on his lap and embracing him, arms wrapped around his neck. your face is warm against his collarbone, the sniffles you let out only continuing to make him feverish. it doesn’t help that he can feel your tears wetting the collar of his shirt. 

“gyu…” you mewl. he doesn’t know if it’s the cross-fadedness, but the heat goes straight to his groin as you cry out. “why– why didn’t you text me to hangout at all?” you’re hiccuping at this point, brows knitted while you practically bounce on beomgyu’s lap from frustration. the friction makes him grimace, clenching his jaw and swallowing in restraint. he can’t even throw his head back because your face is glued between his neck and shoulder. he’s blushing at your uncharacteristically impulsive moves, and even more so from all the attention his friends have on you both. he’s not sure if he likes this many eyes on you, now that he can see yeonjun’s ditzy eyes flicker to something sneaky and taehyun’s restless ogling.

beomgyu’s hands have been hovering over your body since you’ve made yourself comfortable on him. he’s unsure if he should really be letting himself touch you; as if making contact with your sweltering skin would break his already poor resolve, but the unwarranted looks from his friends are enough to make him cave to his desires. his fingers grip the bit of skin between your shorts and your crop top, squeezing slightly. it takes him everything to stop right at the hem of your shirt, tempted to sneak the pads of his fingers under to reach for your tits. 

“y/n, let’s get up, okay?” he tries to persuade you, prying your arms off and trying to stand up from the booth seat. he’s met with your whiny protests, “n-no… you can’t leave!” 

“i’m not– i’m really not leaving!” he says defensively. beomgyu finally manages to get you off his lap, half-hard cock making an appearance. he picks up his jacket to cover up quickly, but as he rises to his feet, you plop yourself on the sticky club floors and hug his leg. you’re more so oblivious to the rising boner he has just above your head, the roughness of his jeans against your soft cheek comfort you in a way, and beomgyu can’t deny that it’s adorable. he feels his heart twinge. this is the first time he’s heard your voice in a week, and he’d do anything to fix things up. even if he has to forget what happened. 

he downs another shot as if preparing for some battle, then crouches down to your level. he hooks his hands under your arms to get you off the ground, your hands finally by your side and not a random body part of his. “let’s go home. just sleep at mine.” he half-heartedly waves goodbye to his friends. 

you trail behind him like a stray cat. the only thing keeping you from swaying away is your grip on his index finger, wrapped around your hand. beomgyu leads you away from the seating booths, tries to maneuver swiftly through the sweaty crowds, but he makes a stop when he hears your voice. 

“i don’t wanna go yet, gyu.” 

“what? be serious. you’re gonna throw up in, like, ten minutes tops..” he turns back to you, opting to circle his hand around your wrist instead of your flimsy clutches. 

“i’m serious!” your attempts of convincing him seem to be entering one ear and leaving the other, so you decide to grab his hand instead and drag him in a familiar direction. “h-hey– hey! the taxi rank is the other way–”

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

both of you end up between the back of the club and a random warehouse; the beloved alleyway that you and beomgyu have defiled many, many times. outside the dim lights of the club, beomgyu can take a closer look at your face. your mascara has run to your undereyes just a tad bit, and the way you’re sitting on the pavement while he’s leaning back against the brick wall reminds him too much of the times he had you at his beck and call. your knees are pressed to your chest, giving him the perfect view of the underside of your thighs. he’s hell-bent on being serious, but the back of your head calls for a good push onto his clothed cock. he’s thankful you’re too busy staring at the ground to notice his perverted stare, and importantly, the tent in his pants that’s been throbbing since you decided to prance towards him.

“i think i like you too much.” you blurt out, not making any eye contact with the person you’re confessing to. beomgyu’s eyes are blown out, dumbfounded for the second time tonight – what do you mean, you like him too much? in the same way he liked you too much? the same kind of ‘too much’ that’s made him voluntarily fuck up his sleep schedule for the past few months? his thoughts are all jumbled up at the possibility of having you all to himself forever, overtaken by the swelling in his chest as you look the shyest he’s ever seen you. something about having you like this; a sight just for him makes beomgyu’s heart flutter.

“okay, we can go home now..!” you laugh awkwardly and get off the ground, still averting beomgyu’s stare. you don’t even know how baffled he looks, brows upturned and lips parted like he’s just been let into a secret cult with all the knowledge of the universe. that’s how severe your unexpected confession has malfunctioned him. you’re about to call an uber, but you can’t move your arm from behind, finding beomgyu latching onto you. it’s enough strength to have you stumble back into his chest, and he’s quick to turn you around.

“wait, wait, again.” he’s a few inches away from your face as he speaks in a hushed tone. at first, his hands were stationary, laid by his side. once you start stuttering, looking away from him and mumbling a bunch of ums and nos, he holds your face, caressing your cheek delicately and making sure you have no escape from his eyes. “look at me when you say it. please, again, for me..?” he pleads, weaponizing those damn puppy eyes he knows always work their charm on you. in fact, he has many weapons up his sleeve to the point you believe you just have a soft spot (everywhere, basically) for this boy.

“you’re such a brat, gyu.” you joke around, rolling your eyes.

he shakes his head, eyes unwavering and holding your own captive. he looks like he could cry; the kind of cry you love to see when he gets too drunk on you. “no, i just want you to give me the chance to say it back. properly. i’ve been waiting for ages,” 

“can you please let me?” 

you’re folding immediately. you can’t even process the fact that he basically already confessed back to you in the same breath. beomgyu really knows when to use the right words and how to use them against you. “i– i like you,” you admit, bashful for the second time. “more than a friend. or whatever it is we are.” 

“and i like you too,” beomgyu smiles fondly, rubbing his thumb over your lip and toying with the flesh. he doesn’t think of how that makes your pulse quicken, or how it makes your knees buckle just a little but not enough for him to notice. “too much. maybe more than you do, actually…” 

hearing him say it out loud brings some of your liveliness back. just enough to return the favor and push his buttons, taking in his thumb and sucking on it briefly, letting it go with a popping sound. “you can’t confess back to me without making it a competition, huh?” your teasing breaks beomgyu out of his lovesick gaze, something a tad darker looming over his features.

“don’t be so cocky. you were just hugging my leg and crying like a baby half an hour ago.” he retaliates, eyes clouded with arrogance. beomgyu closes the distance between you two and takes the liberty of lifting his thumb from your lip to place it on your cheekbones. he chuckles at the way your face follows his hand from the withdrawal, only to relax into his touch again. you’re about to whine at him for removing his finger. instead, you feel his lips on yours, light and airy as your hands find their way back to his nape. it’s been so long since you kissed him, an odd sense of relief fills your senses when you can taste his strawberry lip balm – the same one he stole from you ages ago and seemingly can’t stop using. you don’t know it’s because he always misses the way you taste; your strawberry lip balm just a stand-in for when your lips are too busy to press against his.

it doesn’t take long for beomgyu to go in for the kill; the airiness of your kiss dissipating as quick as it came. instead, your kiss turns sloppy and both his hands engulf your face as if you’re going to run away if he doesn’t hold you tight enough. his grip on your jaw allows him to pull your face closer, deepening the kiss. your hands go to the place they’re most familiar with, tangled in his hair. when you feel him playfully take your bottom lip between his teeth, you whimper at the sensation and tug at his hair, trying to pull away but beomgyu isn’t one to let you go so easily. 

the two of you are stumbling backwards until beomgyu hits his back against the brick wall again. he can’t pull himself away from you, settling his thigh between your legs and letting you grind against his jeans while pushing your head deeper. it takes a moment for him to recollect himself and disconnect from you, a string of saliva forming as you part. when he glances back up at you, chest heaving up and down, he admires the way you look dizzy and utterly overtaken by want. even when you try to look up at him as you circle your arms around his neck again, your eyes are unfocused. 

beomgyu isn’t any better, though. he looks at you like he wants to devour every last bit of your body; his hands act faster than his mind can think and roughly pulls you by the hair. with your head pulled back and neck exposed for the taking, beomgyu latches his lips onto you hungrily, leaving marks as he goes. he catches the way you swallow when he moves his lips; the way you whimper and hitch your breath while dumbly rutting onto his jeans. 

your lips curve into a frown when you feel the cold air on your neck, incoherent noises making it hard for beomgyu, who’s pulling away, to keep his dwindling composure. 

“wanna prove if you really like me more than i like you?” he challenges. you’re in no state to disagree; wanting something – anything, to happen. beomgyu already knows that, so when you eagerly nod, he has the same arrogant half-smile on his face as he does when you meet at this alley.

he retracts from between your legs and pulls at your hair again, “you know where i like you best, right?” 

that’s all it takes for you to drop down to your knees, beomgyu’s grasp on your head easing as you take your position beneath him. you peer up at him as your fingers work the zipper of his jeans, like a pet waiting for permission to go further. beomgyu silently nods, prompting you to undo his jeans fully and pull them down to his thighs. you’re salivating before you even pull his heavy cock out of his underwear, tempted to tease and kiss through the fabric, but beomgyu’s seething grip on your head and impatient stare has you shuffling fast. his cock is finally exposed to the chilly air – only for a few seconds though; he’s quick to use his hands in your hair to push your face closer. 

you spit on his cock, licking the underside before pressing kisses on the tip. slowly, you take him into your mouth, eyes looking up at him and being met with an approving nod. beomgyu has his own eyes fixed on your every move; the tight hold he had on your hair traded in for gentle caresses and pats on your head as you familiarize yourself with his thickness. 

“so pretty for me, baby.” he murmurs, relishing in your glossy eyes and smudged makeup. “keep going, i know you can do it. how are you gonna prove me wrong, hm?” beomgyu’s asking too many teasing questions, especially when he wants to coax you into his hold; the softness of his hands on your head a sharp contrast from the pace he’s thrusting into your mouth, eager to watch you gag. 

your brows knit together from his hot-and-cold teasing, determined to take his cock down your throat and prove yourself right, even if deep down, you know it’s pointless to take on his challenges. you grumble as you take more of his length in and he’s breathless above you, lowly groaning and instinctively shoving your head onto him without warning. “f-fuck,” his roughness makes you squeak, the vibrations in your throat has him fucking into your mouth violently. you nearly topple over, hands tightly gripping his thighs to balance yourself. 

beomgyu’s hands grip any strands of your hair he can touch, his hips doing most of the work. “fuck– take it, t-take it..! such a good fuckhole for me.” his eyes are still open, albeit half-lidded and dazed, simply to watch how you go from drunk and whiny, to drooling and crying on his dick. his pace has gotten much less controlled and more so messy, feeling his cock twitch on your tongue has you whimpering through it all.

“hah–” beomgyu’s hold on your head pushes you against his pelvis as he stills, stomach buckling when he feels the back of your throat. “love your throat, made for me to use, baby..!” he’s obsessed with how your throat tightens and gargles nastily, wanting to jerk away but unable to, firm grip on your head; pliant and unmoving like a toy at his disposal, save for the way your doe-eyed gaze has succumbed to closing as tears crease the makeup on your cheeks. 

beomgyu doesn’t take it lightly that you take your eyes off of him, so he pulls himself out of your mouth. the loss of him has you snapping your eyes wide open, coughing and whining. he responds with his wet cock slapping your face, your saliva smearing across your visage. he does it once. twice. you anticipate the familiar impact on your tear-stained cheek for a third time, but you feel something much harsher.

his palm pitilessly strikes your cheek before taking your face between his hands and squishing your cheeks together, lips forced into a pout. he takes the chance to tap the tip of his cock on your lips, mixing your drool and his pre-cum over your patchy lipstick, a sinister laugh echoing in the eerie quiet of the alley. “i don’t remember saying you could look away, slut.” 

“m’sorry–” he doesn’t let you finish. beomgyu strokes himself as if you’re not right below his cock, mocking you. “that’s okay baby,” his head cocked to the side, staring down at you underneath his length almost condescendingly. the power trip it gives him is a complete disparity to his doting stare; he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in his life but cradles your face like you’re a mere puppet. you’re confused by the deceptive gentleness in his voice, especially when he looked like he was about to fuck your throat wide open out of spite just a few moments ago.

you really shouldn’t let your guard down when beomgyu’s feeling insatiable.

“get up and show me that perfect pussy, yeah?”

you’ve given beomgyu head plenty of times outside the confines of your rooms, but you’ve never had sex anywhere else, especially since you both tend to like staying in. “everything okay, baby?” he lets go of your face, your cheeks imprinted with red marks where his fingers just were. you look back up at him, snapping out of your daze when he checks in on you. you nod back immediately, “mhm, i’m good.”

“we can always go back home if you’re not comfy here.” he helps you up, grabbing onto one of the hands resting on his thigh to balance you, wobbling as you rise from your knees. you look at him and smile softly at beomgyu’s thoughtfulness, “baby, i’m fine.” you pull your hand away from him to unbutton your jean shorts, letting the article of clothing fall to the ground and stepping out of it. you take one of beomgyu’s hands and guide it to your clothed cunt, letting his fingers stroke the wetness as a sign of your consent. “gonna touch me more?” you taunt him, slightly bucking against the hand cupping your pussy. 

he doesn’t respond, heavy breaths as he retracts his hand and switches your positions; your chest is pressed against the wall while beomgyu crouches down, face-to-face with your ass. his eyes flicker up at you, a menacing grin is proudly on display as you turn your head to look back at his antics. “gyu–” you’re cut off by a loud smack on your ass, squealing from the impact. “mhmf–! keep touching me, please.” 

beomgyu hastily pulls your panties down in response, fingers gathering your slick and fondling your clit with a light-hand. he makes an effort to pull away when your hips move on their own, chasing his feathery touches for even an inkling of friction. you turn back sharply, scowling at the shit-eating smirk that you’ve fallen victim to countless times. “if the slut has something to say, say it, baby.” you whine at him in protest, “m’not a slut–”  he stands back to his full height, leaking cock touching the bare skin of your backside. “aren’t you though?” he circles around your folds to let you hear the wetness, “so drenched from having my cock down your throat. only dumb sluts get off to that shit. did you miss my cock that much?” 

the hand teasing your clit suddenly slaps your pussy, and he doesn’t miss how you clench around nothing, thighs tensing from the sharp sensation. he’s amused, doing it a few more times when he realizes how sensitive you are to every spank. each time his palm firmly meets your cunt, you sound even more fucked out. he grows a fixation on the little noises that involuntarily come out of you, admiring how sublime you look with your mouth agape and lids threatening to shut at every touch. he presses himself against you, chin on your shoulder and teeth nipping at your ear. “come on, pretty girl, where’d you go? haven’t gotten to use this sweet pussy yet.” 

he moves away from your clit and finally inserts two fingers into your leaking hole, indulging in the hushed moan that follows as he moves expertly. beomgyu knows every crevice of your body like he’s studied it from a textbook day and night, taking him less than a few minutes to find the spot that serves as a dumbed out button every time he fucks you with his slender fingers. when his digits curl into your walls, terrorizing you as he repeatedly thrusts his fingers, your whimpers progressively turn into loud bawling. your body practically melts back into him, back flat on his chest and head thrown back on his shoulder.

he knows he’s got you where he wants; brainless and amounting to nothing but a doll. he can’t help but coo at your helpless state, suckling a trail of kisses on your jaw. “so fucking cute, fuck–can never get enough of you, baby. want you like this all the time, just for me. all mine, right? you’d let me have you forever?” you know he’s just as gone as you are, his rambles giving it away. still, you nod frantically. “just for you, gyu. only for you to use and keep. forever.” he can’t help but let out a satisfied groan at how quick you agree, trying to find purchase from mindlessly rutting between your thighs. 

the music from the club is faint, practically background noise to your wails, beomgyu’s grunts, and the popping wetness each time he plugs in and out of your hole. one particular thrust has you clenching, alerting beomgyu even in his desperation. he takes this as a cue to speed up, drawing out a pitchy squeal from you, “i-i’m cumming– fuck, beomgyu–”

you’re out of this world tonight, beomgyu concludes; his mind numbing from being so turned on from the way you chant thank yous like a prayer to the way your eyes deliciously roll to the back of your head while you ride out your high, hips moving wildly on his fingers. when you’re nearing the end of your orgasm, beomgyu pulls his fingers out, sucking off the remnants of your release. you’re too distracted from the feeling that you don’t realize beomgyu crouching down, spreading your cheeks to peek at your swollen cunt. “w-what are you doing, gyu?” you get your answer in the form of his tongue prodding at your hole, lapping at your cum heartily. “w-wait, too much! too much!” 

beomgyu is never one to listen, especially in this foggy state of doing anything he can to see you fall apart over and over. knowing only he can do this eggs him on even more. his tongue continues to fuck into your hole, meeting him in the middle by unconsciously grinding into his mouth. beomgyu’s raspy grunts have been traded in for mindless moans, deep from his adam’s apple as he eats you out until you’re cumming a second time. your frame visibly shivers, as if a current of electricity is shocking your every limb. he detaches his face from you, lips gleaming with your slick, the most loopy smile on his face – like he’d just come back from the candy store or won the lottery (he thinks he has with you, anyway). 

sobering up from your orgasm has you seeing red at beomgyu’s devilish smirk. you turn around, facing beomgyu scornfully. this time, your hands reach out for his hair and yank him up. “you’ve been such a fucking brat.” you hiss at him, unimpressed by how there’s not a sliver of regret or fear on his face; rather, he appears to be basking in the glory of making your knees buckle even whilst scolding him. you pull at his hair again, “i could leave you right here without making you cum. would you want that, baby?” 

“i don’t think your stupid cock agrees, hm?” you let go of his head, but you don’t give him a break. beomgyu shivers at your hand wrapping around his cock, thumb toying with the angry tip. it takes everything in him not to buck into your fist, knowing damn well he’s going to make a mess the minute he feels even a shred of friction. “the stupid cock that made you fall in love with me?” he masks his weakness with typical jabs, even with his bare cock out and your cum dripping down your thighs. 

you won’t let him fluster you, convincing yourself the heat rising in your cheeks is from the chill and not from how he echoes your affection for him. “shut up, fuckin’ manwhore.” your hands tighten around his length, jerking him off faster than you were a few moments ago. “bet you said that to all your other bitches. you’re so..!” your brows are furrowed in frustration, not really knowing where this underlying jealousy is coming from, or how it’s fueling your drive. 

it gives beomgyu whiplash – you’re never usually this mean to him when you try to dom, but he’s not complaining. he’s getting off on how upset you seem to be, letting himself thrust into your hands, disgustingly wet noises filling the air. “am i right?” you probe, tone laced in half-spite and half-anxiety. he throws his head back with a groan, unable to answer clearly, “n-no, it was always you. just for you. you’re the only one baby, fuck–” hearing the first half of his sentence has you squeezing his shaft again, drinking up beomgyu’s wanton moans. “promise?” he nods feverishly, eager to run after the hand stroking his shaft. to his dismay, you retract your hand. “don’t– why’d you stop?” 

“thought you wanted to use me, beomie?” you smile coyly. beomgyu swears the world stops after you utter the hottest thing possible; even more than your attempt at catty scowls and mean words. he leaps at the chance you’ve generously given him, instantly taking your head between his hands to crash into your lips, a passionately silent thank you in beomgyu language.

there’s no prelude to beomgyu’s actions. even if he initially wanted to take his time and zap your brain back to mush, he physically can’t deny how much he needed to bury himself inside you. your giggles chime like an all too familiar melody once beomgyu’s tip sinks into your folds, slippery and lost from his impulse-driven desperation. a whine escapes his lips, eyes watering from the hint of euphoria he experiences when being enveloped by you. you caress his head gently, purring praises, “it’s okay, sweet boy. c’mon, been waiting for your cock all night.” 

“w-wait, just take this.” he slips his jacket off his shoulders and pushes it towards you. even under a teary daze, beomgyu thinks about how your back might hurt from pressing against the roughness of the brick walls. you smile gratefully, taking his jacket and pulling through the sleeves.

beomgyu returns to his original stance, lightly tapping your thighs, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. you comply, complete with your arms hooked behind his neck, forehead pressed against his and eyes scanning his weeping face like you’re trying to photograph how he looks at this very moment. this is the same face that has plagued your mind for the past year; the face that has a smile that brings the sun to shame; the face of the boy that has somehow managed to squeeze himself into your life unexpectedly. 

“so pretty. my pretty boy.” you whisper to beomgyu, letting your thoughts express themselves through a chaste kiss, just shy of his lips. 

beomgyu takes this chance to calm his swelling heart, shutting his eyes as your lips feather against his. the only things his mind can process is the way your voice dips lovingly as you call him pretty; how you peer up at him with blown out pupils when you do. despite having you countless times, some in places more dignified than now, he thinks he’ll remember this as the start of a new beginning with you – even if he’s fucking you in some dingy alley. at least he can call it your dingy alley. he finally pushes the tip into your cunt with a breathy whine, “you’re so warm, fuck, m’going insane.” after a week of no beomgyu and being too sad about your lack of beomgyu, your pussy takes a bit more time to adjust to his girth, shuddering from both the stretch and the pleasure of having him stuff you again. 

“k-keep going, doing so good for me,” he heeds your request, pushing into you until he’s sure you’ve taken in all of his cock. “missed you so much, gyu, you don’t even know.” beomgyu pulls out then snaps himself back into your walls, picking up his pace slowly, different from the rush he felt earlier. “m-missed you too, hah..” his palms are leaving marks on your body as he pulls you into him, wanting to hit into you even deeper. the bulge that forms in your stomach doesn’t go unnoticed since your bodies are mushed too close to one another. beomgyu’s stomach feels it first, driving his thrusts to quicken and mouth to start a never-ending string of babbles. “mine, mine, mine. this pussy’s mine, right? gonna let your pretty boy fill you up?” 

“mhm!” you appease his mindless rambling by nodding along, head thrown back on the wall. “wanna see it drip off me later. can you do that for me, gyu?” that definitely eggs beomgyu on, because you feel his dick twitch inside you. he has this determined look on his face as he shoves into you, face scrunched up and bottom lip caught between his teeth, making you arch your back off the wall. you’re still sensitive from the two orgasms he brought you to prior, making your core tighten at beomgyu’s inhumane tempo.

“thank you, thank you, thank you–” he’s chanting, much like how you were when you were bent over, being finger fucked. you think beomgyu looks much prettier, though; his eyes glisten under the flickering streetlight, lips parted with his tongue peeking out, unable to ignore how his breathing has become so uneven. you laugh, “baby’s so close? you sound like a bitch in heat.” beomgyu cranes his neck downward, leaning his sweat-slicked forehead on your shoulder. “m’not..! just– you feel too good.” 

“yeah? how good?” you move your head closer, warm breath tickling his neck while you nuzzle into his shoulder as he did to you. beomgyu doesn’t say anything; his sobs speak for themselves. “i asked you something, baby. where’s my sweet boy?” he whimpers at your calling, like a pet being whistled at by their owner. “h-here. so hot, you’re so hot, just wanna cum inside you so bad, baby. i’m– i’m so close! gonna cum!” 

the knot in your stomach pulses even more with beomgyu’s mouthy tendencies. you may never admit to him just how much his voice and senseless chatter account to your orgasms, pushing you to the edge every single time he starts to get close. that’s when his lips loosen the most, blabbing about anything he can think of. much like right now; listening to every dip, note, and curve of his faltering voice has your legs shaking, finally falling apart on beomgyu’s cock.

when his hips stutter from your tightening walls, the only words he can say are “l-love you so much, y/n. i love you so so bad.” his sloppy movements have stilled, burying his nose into your neck, breathing in a mix of your sweat as his cum spills inside. you’re both panting, a broken gasp escaping your throat in the midst of beomgyu’s crazed humping, concentrated on fucking as much of his cum back into you. he only stops when you tug on his hair and make him look up at you.

“we need to go home at some point, gyu.” you deadpan, still lifted against the wall and enveloped in his sweaty embrace. despite the frosty air nipping at every bit of your exposed skin, you want to shrug off his jacket from how stuffy it’s become; your face heating up from a culmination of beomgyu’s i love you and his warmth sticking to your skin.

beomgyu takes a few more minutes to snap out of it, eventually pulling out and watching white drip down your inner thighs. you unlock yourself from his body, wobbly on your feet as you pick up your shorts on the floor and dress yourself, beomgyu mirroring your actions. 

“you didn’t say it back yet.” lips pouted in a sulky tone, completely different from the beomgyu you carelessly pulled away from his friends, and much more akin to the one panting out of urgency. 

“did you mean it?” genuine curiosity weaved in the way you ask him. a part of you, unsure and horrified of this being a vivid fantasy, still can’t believe it. “i– i don’t mean to doubt you, or question you-” beomgyu cuts you off with a peck on your lips, another on your tear-stained cheek, and a final kiss on your forehead. “i meant it, and i meant it when i said there’s only you.”

he averts your eyes when he says this, bashful even if it’s not the most outrageous thing he’s said tonight. “to be honest, i stopped seeing other people a few months after we started fucking.”

“what? since when?” you gape. “you were always bragging about your roster! what the fuck?” although you sound upset, your cheeky smile screamed how overjoyed and satisfied you were. “when you came over and played a league match on my pc..” his head is low, forehead flush against your collarbone. 

“damn,” his embarrassment has you cackling. through the fits of laughter, you feel beomgyu’s shy smile against your collarbone, voice small as he defends himself. “stop… just to humble you, you were really bad. i just thought about how i would die happy if i saw you on my desk chair everyday.”  

beomgyu finally lifts his head to look at you dead in the eyes. “you’re so romantic, beoms. i didn’t know you had it in you!” you tease, overcome with some form of cuteness aggression that has you pulling at his cheek. your fingers stay there, toying with the flesh. “i love you too.”

“i know,” he replies confidently, tongue peeking out of his mouth. you pull at his cheek harder, his face moving along to the side with a yelp. beomgyu places his own hand over your own, bringing your hand down between you both. he tightly clasps your hands together, locked between the gaps of your fingers like puzzle pieces. he looks like a fool in love (he is); goofy smile making his cheeks swell up that his normally wide eyes turn into crescents. “should we go home then, girlfriend?”

[moved--naitfall]

@smokedanced asked:

❛   indulge .   find  my  muse  drinking  to  cope . +reverse / from dean

❝ Did you search long enough before you settled for this shithole? ❞ Levi took seat across the hunter, prying ice-cold eyes watching him lower his defenses, slowly stripped of his armor, with each drink he downed. Almost jealous of him he was, for having found, even temporarily, a way to ease his pain. ❝ This place is disgusting. ❞ Even if the bar didn't meet his cleaning standards (an obsession of him) he ordered a drink for himself anyway, having decided to join him whether he wanted him to be around or not. Keep an eye on him, in case he planned on becoming any more vulnerable, dull his reflexes any further. In their kind of profession, letting one’s guard down could be fatal. He may not be doubting the other’s judgement as a hunter, but offered his company as a chance for him to let go, find comfort in the lightness of mind — for booze to help him sink into oblivion, as he watched over him.

Why had he become a hunter in the first place? Why had he chosen to waste dedicate his life to killing what was inhuman? ( no life could be wasted, fulfilling its purpose no matter how trivial ) Some were delusional enough to believe they could make a difference. Others were driven by revenge, having lost what was dear to them and any other reason worth living for. Some sought power, an escape from humanity's immortality by defeating what was deemed superior. For a few, it was pure bloodlust.

In which category they belonged? Levi had an idea for the hunter before him, but for himself, it remained a mystery. It was the most difficult after all, for one to look at themselves in the mirror.

The last of his found family had died before him. Helplessly Levi had watched life fade from their eyes. His fault, a series of his decisions had led to their death — to his own death, for who he was perished on that day as well. His heart continued to beat, but on a different rhythm. One could say revenge had become his purpose to serve, the reason he chose to become a hunter, to kill the creatures that had murdered his family, but that couldn't be the case — for revenge had been his guide for the biggest part of his life. Revenge defined who he used to be — revenge for everything he didn't have, for everything he had to fight for ( his survival, his freedom, his humanity ), and his obsession for revenge was what got his family killed in the first place.

There wasn't a point in finding out. He would keep advancing forward, his life dedicated to killing and protecting. He didn't need answers, to do what needed to be done. The world stopped making sense a long time ago. Once, Levi sought freedom. Power, he had earned it (or so he thought), yet in his efforts to chase what he desired, he lost what was the most precious to him. A man of no will on his own he had turned into, whose life would earn meaning by saving the lives of others. He had come at peace with his nature, embraced his darkness and the empty void that rested within. Walking the path set for him, never looking back, never questioning where he was going.

❝ You seem to hold your liquor well. But how many exactly have you had? ❞

[lesbian-dp]

Masquerade

Kinktober 2022

Day Nineteen

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1,551

Warnings: Formal wear, anonymous sex, lingerie, “stripping”, being recorded, overheard sex, packing, strap on, masks, choking, sex with clothes on

Request: Non.

Summary: A high-end party leads to pleasure behind masks.

A/N: This isn't the best. But I really needed to get this done. So... enjoy ig!

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not my pics)

18+ ONLY

---

"So what? Do we gotta put our keys in a bowl or something?"

A chuckle poured from the man's mouth, his hand coming up to pat your shoulder blade.

"This isn't a swinger's party," Tony replied.

"Well, with the way that you described it, it sure seems like it."

You entered the grand building that sat in New York City. With white bricks illuminated only by artificial yellow lights, practically glowing under the black night sky.

"Have you really never been to one of these things before?" he asked as you stepped into the elevator with fellow masked people. Expressing themselves with their smart tuxedoes and dresses, the masquerade masks unique to every person. So even if you didn't know who sat under them, you were still able to recognise a particular person.

"I can't say that I have."

He grinned under his red and gold mask without even needing to see, you could picture the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, thanks to his smile. You were one of his oldest friends, a fellow business owner. You had even partnered with the man on some projects over the years. So you knew the man through and through.

"You're gonna have a good time tonight."

"I'll hold you to that. If I don't, I get your Shelby Cobra."

"You're on."

Not even an hour later, you had a half-drunk flute of champagne in your hand, watching all the masked people in the vicinity.

You couldn't help the half smile that pulled at your lips when your eyes focused on your friend, the man heavily flirting with a tall blonde.

"You don't seem to be enjoying the party."

Peering over your shoulder, you found a red-headed woman standing beside you, a cream mask decorated with elegant gold flourishes over her eyes. Wearing a tight black dress with a slit going up one leg, almost reaching her hip.

"Oh, I'm enjoying it plenty. Alcohol-" You raised your glass into her view. "-People watching. Watching my friend get turned down." You then waved a hand over to Tony, showing the blonde waving a hand in front of his face, before walking from him. "Not to mention, I'm gonna get a Shelby Cobra after all this is over."

"Oh yeah? Gonna treat yourself?"

"Gonna win a bet."

The red-head hummed, glancing you up and down. "I gotta say, I did not expect to see a mask like yours."

You smiled at her obvious compliment, eyes shining behind the sculpted clay of the skull half-mask. It resembled an animal skull you would find in the desert, with red horns breaking from the head, curling around, almost like a goats, blackened in the crevices to give it an aged look.

"Well, it is the season, after all," you flirted, referencing the spooky holiday right around the corner.

That was all she needed to know that she wanted to spend the night with you in one of those private rooms. The whole reason why everyone was in attendance at this exclusive party.

"You can call me Nat."

"I'm Y/N." You offered your hand for the red-head to shake, not really caring to keep that a secret along with what sat under your mask.

An hour later, and a few more glasses of champagne, you were being led down a long hallway by Nat, a key with a ribbon tied to it, hanging from her free hand, some doors closed with occupants doing just as you were about to.

You didn't notice the flashing red light behind the large and elegant mirror on the wall. There was no way that you could. How were you to know you were being filmed... not that you'd be opposed to it, of course.

Turning around from the door you had just locked, you were gifted with the sight of the illuring red-head reaching for the zipper under her armpit, drawing it down. She then pulled the straps of her dress down her shoulders that you were so desperate to kiss, pushing it down her body while keeping eye contact with you, shallow pants pouring from her plump lips. Your jaw tensed when her voluptuous breasts were revealed to you, cupped in black lace, the material of her dress pushed down her tight waist and past her hips and thighs, letting it pool at her heeled feet.

"Jesus Christ," you breathed in reaction.

Nat's tits jostled as she bounced lightly on her toes, repositioning her matching black lace panties.

"Enjoying the view there, sunshine?" She smirked, loving the way you were gandering her, in a shocked daze.

"More than you could fucking know."

The red-head cocked her finger at you, waving you over with that look behind her mask. Taking almost uneasy steps towards her, when you were close enough to the woman, she reached under your suit and grasped the suspenders that lay underneath, using those to pull you closer. Smirking into your mouth, making you think that she was going to press an intoxicating upon your lips before pushing you into the lavish sofa.

Her hands were placed upon your shoulders, looking down at you as she stood between your legs.

"Are you ready to give me everything I want?"

"Only if you're ready to take it."

You had your hands upon her plump ass, caressing the soft flesh underneath, her lips massaging against yours as she held your cheeks between her palms, grinding into your lap where she straddled it.

"I want you," was muttered against your mouth, "I need you."

Unmistakable sounds hindered your reply to the red-head, coming from rooms away, almost identical to the one you were sitting in. Loud, breathy cries showing someone's pleasure. You swear, if you listened hard enough, you could hear slaps of thrusting into the moaning woman's core.

"You hear what's happening to her?" You nodded against Nat, nose brushing her own. "I want you to make me feel better than that."

If it were possible, your pupils dilated further than you could ever imagine.

Promising yourself that you would do just that.

With one hand holding her thigh and the other wrapped around her back, holding onto her farthest ass cheek, you helped her take the strap you had hidden under your pants. Controlling her movements as she rode you.

Lips pressed to her neck, following the tight column with every roll of her body, knowing that, even through your layers of clothes, there would be bruises from where she currently gripped your shoulders.

You could taste the champagne on her lips as she moaned into your mouth, broken only by breathy pants.

It didn't take long to manoeuvre the woman onto her back, laying her on the sofa you sat upon.

Nat's legs were crossed together, thrown over one of your shoulders, moans pouring from her jiggling chest thanks to your hard thrusts. Fingers digging into the leather seats below, trying in vain to hold onto something.

Even through her mask, you could tell that the red-head loved every minute of this. With your free hand that wasn't keeping her legs pressed against your chest, you fiddled with her nipples before your palm encased her neck, squeezing the sides to heighten her pleasure further. This position gave you the perfect opportunity to drill into her wet cunt.

A strangled moan tore through her throat, her hands snapping up to your wrist, holding you as she was repeatedly thrust up the leather sofa.

"Holy shit, you feel amazing."

"You look it."

Nat gave you a husky giggle, "Such a charmer- Shit!" her words cut off against her sudden cry. Back arching, with the moans that flowed through her plump lips as you thrust your strap into her from tip to base. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Natasha cried out, back arching as she came around your faux cock.

You practically came at the sight of her writhing around in pure ecstasy.

"Get used to that, honey. It's gonna be a long night for you."

---

You wanted to wipe that smile off Tony's face as soon as you saw him next.

"So, did you have a good time?"

"Shut up, Tony," you said, strolling past the man, heading straight for the elevators as the night and the party dwindled down. Rolling your eyes as you heard his satisfied cackle following you.

You were stopped by a hand on your shoulder as soon as you were about to follow Tony in exiting the building. Turning only to find the masked red-head there. Holding out a USB stick along with a folded napkin.

"Thought you would want your video," she said as you took the objects from her fingers.

"You would be correct. But what's with the napkin?"

A soft shrug from the woman, "Just a little something extra." A smirk graced her lips, and with that, she exited herself. Piling into a car beside a brunette woman, leaving you to watch the car drive off.

Glancing down, you peeled open the folded napkin, and in black ink, read a number along with the woman's scrawl.

'Call me. I don't think I can get enough of you.'

'-Natasha.'

"Y/N, you coming, or what?"

You grinned as you looked up at your friend.

"Y'know, I'm not pissed at all about losing that Cobra."

---

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[mellowyandere]

You’re Ours to Protect

Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it. 

Reader: F

Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)

Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)

Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic. 

Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.

You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.

“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.” 

You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then. 

“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention. 

You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room. 

“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture. 

Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg. 

“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you. 

“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.

You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody.. 

“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?” 

“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.

“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?” 

You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.

The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up. 

“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.” 

You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”

“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame. 

“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late. 

“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”

“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”

You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?

You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent. 

“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”

It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass. 

You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down. 

“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group. 

Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.

Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core. 

“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation. 

Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds. 

“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men. 

The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers. 

“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you. 

“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response. 

“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”

Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly. 

As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers. 

Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt. 

Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display. 

You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax. 

You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?” 

He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand. 

You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!” 

Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”

Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.” 

As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak. 

You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration. 

“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head. 

“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.” 

You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement. 

He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you. 

“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch. 

Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation. 

Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room. 

“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”

“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”

“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”

Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy. 

You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you. 

“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?” 

That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion. 

Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body. 

“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view. 

Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze. 

By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction. 

“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”

Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.

Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for. 

Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them. 

“Ready now primadonna?”

“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”

You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face. 

“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.” 

You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier. 

“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out. 

You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss. 

“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”

“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”

Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit. 

They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo. 

Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?

You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.

By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin. 

“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”

The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him. 

You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself. 

As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you. 

“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”

In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge. 

“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own. 

“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might. 

The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.

“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh. 

By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt. 

Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head. 

“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?” 

You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below. 

All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you. 

“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested. 

“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed. 

Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation. 

“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.

“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.” 

These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend. 

“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.

“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned. 

“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.” 

[annoyingstupidmiracle]

L.A. Confidential- l.r.h

CONTAINTS SMUT

Word Count: 1876

“My girl might leave me if she hears about this..” That Aussie accent mumbled under his breath as you left marks down his neck in a heated session behind his hotel door. You wouldn’t dare say a word as long as is hands would continue lingering on your skin every other night. 

“She won’t,” you told him as he unzipped the back of your dress. 

Your eyes blinked as you came out of your daydream from only a few nights prior. You stood in line at the red carpet waiting to take pictures of the band of 5 Seconds of Summer. You had began a job of being a professional photographer for popular bands or singers like them and it paid well. The only downfall was the fact that you had fell head over heels for the front man who also had a girlfriend.

Luke Hemmings was all around perfect, especially in your eyes. The way he laughed at your jokes in order for you to take a good picture of him just made your heart stop. His eyes had always lingered on you whenever you were in close perimeter. His girlfriend, Chloe, was a stunning blonde with tan skin and a perfect white smile. She was drop dead gorgeous, but Luke just couldn’t help himself when it came to you. You weren’t famous, only the people in your pictures were, but to Luke you were something else.

As soon as the boys stepped out into the light, Luke’s blue hues scanned the crowd in front of him in search of your beautiful form. You had always surprised him with the dresses and outfits you pulled off at the red carpet walks, interviews, or photo shoots. Tonight; however, you had decided on tight leather pants and an off the shoulder white blouse which had paired with your skin tone perfectly. The shoes you wore had really thrown him off. They were thick, black stilettos that crossed over your feet and allowed for your hot pink painted nails to be shown off. Luke had always been a fan of how you highlighted the best features of yourself. That’s exactly when he decided on how he was going to fuck you senseless over the-

“Luke! Luke, over here!” The paparazzi screamed over the flashes of cameras from every direction. The only camera he looked at was yours. 

*

“Well, that was a crazy crowd, Jesus.” Calum said while stripping himself of his suit jacket and plopped himself in the couch of your hotel room. 

“Yeah, well the afterparty is going to be worse.” Ashton breathed out as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt. You had your laptop out at the desk with the memory card inside it, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures you took for the night in order to send them to management for the band. 

They had officially hired you for the full time job for their photographer early last year so, you had made it your full duty to make sure they got the best pictures and publicity you could. Ever since you got the job, the guys instantly made you feel like you were a part of a family. They were your best friends and you couldn’t be any happier. 

“Crystal and I are going out for dinner tonight.” Mikey said as he fixed his hair in the mirror. “And no, I’m not skipping.” He adds before his friends could convince him otherwise. 

Luke took this as his chance to speak up. “Yeah, I’m going to skip out on the afterparty, too. I haven’t gotten that much sleep lately.” Your eyes dart over to the blonde just to see that he was already staring back at you. A blush made its way to your cheeks as you turned back to your computer.

Calum and Ashton rolled their eyes. “Guess it’s just you and I tonight.” Calum said with a sigh.

“Alright, well we’re gonna head out then.” Ashton announces before ushering Cal out the hotel door. Mikey bids his goodbye as well before he’s out the door as well.

Arms reached around the back of the chair, wrapping themselves around your shoulders as lips pressed against your jaw. “Real smooth.” You joked and closed your laptop before sliding around the chair and standing to your feet. You were then pushed back down, but against the bed this time and a gasp left your lips. Luke was smirking down at your vulnerable form while your elbows were the only thing giving you some sort of angle to look at him better. You stared up at him through thick lashes innocently, waiting for him to do something. His hands ached to touch you through those leather pants, he just didn’t know what he was going to do yet. 

Instead of waiting on him, your hand reached out to grab his own and placed it over the leather material between your legs. Luke’s body shuddered with pure excitement as he lowered himself over you against the bed. An elbow plopped down beside your head as a hand stroked your (h/c) hair out of your face. His eyes bored into yours and for a second, your heart beat changed pattern. You had silently hoped that his did the same as you smiled up at him. The smile that got him weak in the knees, which led to his next step of pressing his lips against yours. 

You could feel him growing hard against you as he pushed himself farther against you. Luke pulled away from your lips only to leave kisses down your jawline. There was something about the way he was acting tonight that was different than any other night. Instead of dwelling of the thought, you cleared your throat.

“Is something wrong?” You question while running a hand through your hair.

“You know I got somebody so I can’t fuck with just anybody.” Luke mumbles next to your ear which causes your cheeks to heat up. What is he saying? “But sometimes I get lonely.”

You’ve heard those words before, and it only made you angry. It meant that he and his girlfriend had been arguing. She might’ve been pretty, but she was manipulative and often left Luke a drunk mess, but ever since he met you, he hasn’t touched a drop. You were his distraction, and he loved it. He loved how you made him feel important, and needed. Chloe was independent and would rather spend her time with friends at the club than to have a night inside in bed next to Luke with a movie playing, or to go out to dinner.

“Lu, you know you can always come to me.” You soothed. Although it made you guilty that he was cheating on his girlfriend, you were also glad because there had been so many rumors about her cheating that you’d believe it. He kissed your lips in response and lost himself against you. In that moment, you cupped his face in your hand and flipped so that you were now straddling his waist. In a swift movement, he pulled the blouse you wore over your head and to the floor. A grin took over the frown on his face as his hands roamed over your curves. 

Your hands reached down and began unbuttoning his dress shirt as well as his pants while he shuddered under your touch. A hand reached behind and groped your rear, pulling you against the hard body beneath you. “Hold up.” Luke says while pushing you up to a standing position. He then curled his fingers on the inside of your leather pants and yanked them down your legs. A blush made its way to your face as you laughed. Luke then lifted you from the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist before putting you on your back. He fit in between your legs perfectly. You reached a hand down in between you and pulled his pants down just enough down his legs as he moves the lace covering you to the side. 

Kissing him, you muffled the sounds of your moan as he pulls himself out of his boxers and enters you. He pulled away and placed his forehead against your own, looking in your eyes. “Fuck, Luke.” You breathed out while looking down between your bodies as he pumped in and out of you. His white teeth shined down at you as he grinned. With a swift movement, he wrapped his arms around your torso and flipped so that you were now on top of him.

“Ride me, (y/n).”

You did as told, wincing as his nails dug into your hips. It hurt, but you loved it. He knew how he made you feel while he fucked you senseless. Speaking of, he reminded himself what went through his head at the red carpet. Before he could get too close, he quickly pulled out of you. “Lay over the desk in front of the mirror.” He demanded. This excited you, so you hurried over to the spot he told you to. Grabbing the edge of the table, you tilted your head to the side in order to look at him. 

“Like this?” You asked, but he shook his head. He entered you again causing a gasp to escape your lips. Luke reached around your head and wrapped a hand around your throat, forcing you to look in the mirror. 

“Like this, I want you to watch me fuck you senseless.” 

“O-Okay.” You stuttered, unable to contain yourself as the feel of his hand around your throat caused a different kind of feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

He then began to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace as the desk bumped against the wall repeatedly. There was sure to be a noise complaint. And thank god the rest of the band decided to go out for the night. Your climax began to draw closer as he drilled into you.

“Are you close?” He asked, getting close as well. You nodded, unable to form words as he watched you in the mirror. “I wanna hear you scream, baby.”

“Fuck, Lu.” You cursed while adjusting yourself as the desk dug into your skin.

“Louder, I want everyone in the hotel to hear you scream my name.”

“What about-”

“(y/n).” He warned. You were nearly tipped over the edge as his hand tightened around your neck and your stomach flipped.

“Luke!” Your strangled voice screamed nearly at the top of your lungs as the two of you came together, him filling you up. After a few seconds, he let you relax before pulling out of you to get stuff to clean up. He disappeared in the bathroom, and soon came back to help you clean up. Leaning against the desk, you watched as he wiped the liquid from your skin.

“We’re gonna have to go to the pharmacy before they close.” You mumbled embarrassingly. You often had to make a trip there in order to get plan b.

“I know, why do you think I got out clothes for you to change into?” Looking over, you saw a small pile of folded clothes which belonged to him causing your heart to melt.

“Thank you.”

“You know, I can’t leave her right?”

Frowning, you nodded. “I know.”

“L.A Confidential.”

You nodded again and sighed. “L.A. Confidential.”

[nyxdelanuit]

Feral (Tendou x F! Reader)

Hey! Here’s Nyx being super late with a collab fic for the Haikyuu Headquarters Collab, which can be found here! 

Special shout outs to @the-great-queen and @fallingintoimagination for getting me hooked on Feral Tendy <3 and @mammonrights for bein a heathen with me.

Warnings: Biting, Marking, Slight breeding kink cause it’s me, A lil bit of predator/prey play, and NSFW abound~ 

You quite enjoyed the calm, lazy weekends where you curled up with a book or movie, ignoring the outside world and the coming work week. The same couldn’t be said for your friend, currently draped over your lap, whining.

 "I'm so bored, let's do something fun." Tendou looked up at you with pleading eyes as you kept watching your show. You were only a few episodes out from the season finale, and you weren't too keen on stopping now.

 "I am having fun, Sa-to-ri." You grinned, glancing down at him, "It's not my fault you don't have any taste." He pouted at you, the teasing something that had thrived in your friendship.

 “It’s not my fault I’ve already read the whole series before the show started. I could tell you what happens if you want.” Your attention turned fully to him, what he wanted all along.

 "You wouldn't dare, Tendou." You tried to keep your gaze hard on him, despite the growing grin on his face.

“Ooh, pulling out the last name, that hurts.” He put a mocking hand over his chest. “And I wouldn’t have to ruin the whole series for you if you just entertained me a little.” You huffed, pausing the show and giving him an unamused glare.

"Fine, and what do you want to do exactly?" He sat up, leaning in close to you. You could feel the heat of your face at his nearness but kept up your mask. It wasn't new for you and Tendou to flirt like this, but it never failed to excite you.

 “Would you believe me if I said you?” The coy grin he wore made you roll your eyes.

 “No.” You turned your face away, trying to calm your desperate heartbeat before you gave him more ammunition to tease you. His calloused fingers slid under your chin, bringing your face back to his gaze.

 "I think you're lying… you want it, don't you?" You bit your tongue softly, trying to weigh your options. Tendou would notice right away if you lied, and you wouldn't dare tell him the truth, that you had been dreaming of the day he'd finally make a real move.

 It seemed Tendou was especially impatient that day, pressing a light kiss to your lips before retreating, hopping off your couch to stretch. “Let’s play tag.”

 You were snapped out of your stupor at the kiss by his words, wondering if you had possibly imagined it. "W-what?" His eyes drifted to yours with a predatory smile.

 “Tag. If you can keep away from me for… hmm… fifteen minutes, you win. We keep watching your show, no more complaints from me.” You furrowed your brows.

 “Satori, we’re not kids anymore. I figured you’d want to go out to a club or something, why tag?”

 “Cause it’s fun. Live a little, play tag with me.” He shrugged and held out a hand, which you reluctantly took, pulling you to your feet.

 “Fine, and what happens if I lose?” His eyes glittered with a curious mischievousness, and you were almost tempted to pull your hand away.

 "I'll think of something. Now for the rules. No leaving the house, no locking doors. I'll give you a 30-second head start. You can hide if you really want to." His grin only grew as he spoke, showing his excitement for your little game. You rolled your eyes again, ignoring the spark of adrenaline that ran through your veins. "Sound good to you?"

 "Yeah, sure, Satori."

 "Then… Run." The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was how a rabbit felt staring into the eyes of a wolf. Once he started counting, you were pulled from your frozen state, turning and bolting down the hallway. You could still hear him, his singing echoing through your house as he counted down the seconds to his hunt. With no more than a handful of seconds left, you crept into the ancient wardrobe in your room, thankful you hadn't had the time to fill it properly. You bit at your lip, trying to get the door to close from the inside was harder than you expected.

 Your breath hitched as you heard his footsteps, far too close for you to fiddle with the door anymore. You pressed yourself into the dark of the wardrobe, hoping it was enough to conceal you as his shadow snuffed out what remained of the light.

 Your hands flew to your mouth, holding in your breath along with the whine that threatened to escaped as he paused in front of you.

 “Come on out sweetness, maybe I’ll make your punishment something we’ll both enjoy?” His voice was deeper than usual, a darkness you’d only caught glimpses of before now on full display. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were, the heat pooling in your stomach as he lingered. Something about the tension, the anticipation of being found was a drug to you.

 He slowly moved away, something you only noticed by the return of the light. You sat for several long moments, trying to hear past the blood rushing in your ears as you peeked through the door. The room in front of you was empty, and he could no longer be heard. If you wanted to run, now would be the time. Cautiously, you pushed open the door, creeping out one leg at a time until you released a shuddering breath, straightening your clothes.

 "You should probably run now, little lamb." The voice made you jump, even more so the sight of Tendou, leaning against the door you had just open, a malicious grin splitting his face in two. You ran without any thought, slamming doors behind you as you tried and failed to remember your house's layout. Every step, every labored breath you took, you could hear him nearing. You could feel him hot on your heels, to the point where the doors were no longer falling closed behind you, merely bouncing off his extended arm, slamming against the wall.

 You had made a mistake somewhere in your panic. A room with no other doors, no easy means of escape, just you and Tendou standing at separate sides of the room. All you could do was watch as he closed in, your heart jack-hammering against its cage. The only way out was around, to fake out the former Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa.

 Breathe in, breathe out- glance to the side, opposite of where you were planning of going. Your mind was working faster than you thought possible, acting on the barest hint of thoughts as Tendou's hands neared you. You ducked, somehow slipping through the narrow escape between his arm and his body. Your lungs burned as you ran, the peals of laughter echoing throughout the halls as the hunt continued. How long could fifteen minutes be?

 Each step, each ragged breath sent a fire through your veins. Maybe Tendou had the right idea, when was the last time you felt this alive? Slipping through doorways, skidding along tiled floors, nervous laughter seeping through your lips as his cackling rang in your ears. Faster, quicker, just seconds ahead of his hands, you ran. You couldn't hide, not anymore, all you could do was hope that you were faster than him until the clock ran out.

 You somehow found yourself back where you started, the timer of his phone counting down the last seconds of your game. You had won, you knew it, just a few more seconds…

 A shrill scream tore through your throat; you had let yourself get distracted. Calloused fingers wrapped around you, holding your arms tight to your chest as the alarm rang through the house. You had almost won… Tendou pulled you flush against his chest, every inch of him wrapped around you, pressed against your back.

 “Too bad, little lamb.” He taunted, his lips brushing against your ear. “You were so close.” You hadn’t even noticed the whine that escaped you until you heard him chuckle, low and dark. “You stopped there near the end… did you want me to catch you that bad?” You shook your head, belatedly noticing how his hands sunk into the plush of your chest. “You can deny it to yourself all you want, but your body says differently. You haven’t even tried to slip away.” He moved his head to brush his lips against your neck, the barest brushes of skin. There was no fighting the shiver of pleasure that ran down your spine or the gasp that slipped past your lips.

 You resisted even less when he turned you, pressing your chests together as his head dipped to kiss you hungrily. You opened to his whims easily, tongue and teeth clashing with no other thought than the hunger that burned deep in your stomach. When had your hands buried themselves in his? When had he stopped kissing you in favor of trailing bites down the length of your neck? It was happening so quickly, and yet it seemed as if this had been building up as long as you could remember. He devoured you, as he did so many other things. Headfirst into his passion with little regard to anything else as his rough hands slid under your shirt, quickly pulling it up and over your head. He barely pulled away to pull his own off by the collar, whipping it to the abyss that existed outside of you and him.

 Throughout the house, he led you, a trail of clothes littering your path. He was nothing but a storm of lips and teeth, marking every inch of skin he could reach, claiming you as his prize. He hadn't even stripped you of your underwear, but the way he was grinding against you, laving his tongue over the deep imprints of his teeth had you writhing for release. Finally, a single finger dipped between you, dragging over your covered folds and feeling the dampness that made the fabric cling to your skin.

 “Pretty little lamb, I’m going to destroy you.” He chuckled, his breath falling heavily against your neck. You nodded, already a whining mess.

 “Please, Satori… I want you, please.” Was that your voice? You hardly recognized it, buried beneath all the lust and longing weighing down the tone.

 He spoke mockingly as he slowly pulled the last scrap of fabric down your legs. “I knew you wanted me, little lamb… but I didn’t mind playing our little game to make you admit it. You opened your mouth to refute him, to say something in your defense, but the only thing that came out was a sinful moan as his teeth sunk into your thigh, marking you so close to where you wanted him.

 Words failed you, lost in the haze that was Tendou Satori, and all you could do was pull him in closer, desperate to feel him inside of you. He fit against you so well, the feeling of his lips on yours was a drug like no other. You melted against his touch, conforming to his body as he hitched your leg high up on your hip. His touch on your hip was firm, holding you still as he teased at your entrance, watching your face with a sadistic smile.

 Ever so slowly, he sunk in, his mouth open as he let the softest of groans escape him while he watched you writhe as you tried to push down further on his length. "You know, little lamb… I never said what I would take as my prize…" You attempted to clear your cloudy eyes, focusing on his gluttonous face.

 "I thought this…" A sharp thrust, bottoming Tendou's length inside you brought your sentence to a breathy end, but you tried to continue on, "I thought I was your prize?"

 “Hmm… but you gave yourself over to me without me even asking… I guess I’ll just have to cum in you as my prize.” It shouldn’t sound so appealing falling from his lips, but all you could do was keen out, desperate for him to take you in any and all ways he wanted. He won you fair and square.

 “Please, Satori, whatever you want, just move!” His smile darkened, a calloused finger coming up to brush lightly against your cheek.

 “How can I resist when you beg so nicely for it?” With that last word, his hands returned to your hips, holding on in a bruising grip as he pulled out slowly, watching the tears gather on your lashes as you pleaded for him to move faster. As soon as the tip traced your entrance, something in him snapped. He bucked into you wildly, pulling a loud moan from your lungs.

 Gone was your lazy, teasing friend that you spent calm Sundays with, replaced with a hungry animal, intent on devouring you from the inside out. Each roll of his hips pushed you further from your thoughts, focusing only on the carnal way he hunched over you, sucking deep marks into your skin to remind you long after this was over of what he turned you into. Just a mewling, desperate mess, falling apart underneath him, pliant to his every touch. And touch he did, imprints of his hands seemed to be carved into your hips, the ghost of his teeth in every bite he laid on your skin still stinging, only heightening the pleasure of his cock pistoning within you.

 The pleasure became overwhelming, and you dug your nails into his shoulder, desperate for anything to ground yourself in this moment. It only spurred him on further, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as you marked him in kind. Some small stake that showed you weren't just a passive participant in his game. You pulled him close with the grip you held on his shoulders, panting heavily on his shoulder before you bit into his neck, mirroring one of the many marks he had left on you. The whine you pulled from his throat only made you moan against his skin as he pushed your legs higher, trying to find a better angle to sink into you as you savagely attacked his neck.

 You only pulled away when you felt the peak growing impossibly close, a breathy moan of his name bringing him back to himself.

 “Please, Satori, I’m so close.” You let the tears spill from your lashes, twin rivers framing your face as you stared up at him, pleading. “Fill me up, please.” He groaned lowly, pulling back just enough to sneak a hand between your bodies. Those stupid, calloused fingers you had grown to appreciate so quickly deftly found your clit, sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and he relentlessly assaulted the swollen nub. You felt him start to twitch inside you as you tensed, finally cresting in pleasure.

 He was thrown violently into his orgasm as you cried out his name, clenching your fists around his shoulders once more. Each thrust as he worked through his release brought you closer to over-stimulation, the added friction on the edge of pain as he filled you.

 The house was finally quiet, the only sound coming from your intermingling breaths, heavy and satisfied. He collapsed next to you, content to relax against your pillows as you processed all that had just happened. When you remained silent, he turned his eyes to you with a grin. “We can go watch that show now.”

 You couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that escaped you. “After all that, you want to go watch that show?” He nodded, smirking.

 "Yeah, why not?" He sat up, stretching out his shoulders, and giving you a good view of the angry red lines you had left all over him.

 “So… do we just pretend this didn’t happen?”

 "I don't know what you mean, I thought I made it pretty clear." You wished you could see his face as he got up for even a hint of how he felt.

 “What do you mean, Satori?”

 “I won you.” He sung, “I marked you inside and out. You’re mine now.” He turned with a mischievous grin, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this was the outcome he wanted when he walked through your door this morning. Still, you stood, walking over to him and running a hand down his chest.

 “You did, didn’t you?” With your confirmation, his grin softened to a more sincere smile, ducking to place a kiss to your cheek.

 “So, time for your show, little lamb?”

[2jaeh]

TEACH ME I  TEN LEE

Genre: smut, mature themes

Warnings: corruption!kink

Stripper!Ten , Innocent!Reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Author SIN

What happens when the best dancer at your club offers you an offer of a lifetime, a lap dance, private and free off charge..

—————————————————————————

“Table number 4” you heard the bartender call while your eyes were fixated on the crew setting up the stage in front of you. “Oh, yeah” you received the tray of drinks from him and sauntered over to a table in the far left corner.

You cleared your throat as you noticed the person who you were serving was your boss Miya, the owner of the club and a handsome young man dressed in a red leather suit. “Oh Ten! You dont know y/n right ? she's new here” Miya pulled out a chair for you to take a seat.

“H-hi” you nodded nervously as the red suited man's lips turned into a cat-like grin.

“This is Ten Lee” Miya introduced, “He used to work here a few years ago until he became famous” You watched as the man became bashful and shook his head, “I'm not famous, I'm just getting started.”

“Y-you were a waiter or-” your words were cut off by Ten’s laughter as he marvelled at your innocence. What was a girl like you doing in an all-male strip club ?

“Ten was our highest priced dancer, usually booked for the expensive bachelorette parties” Your boss explained as you mentally dissed yourself for even thinking he could've been a waiter.

You were extremely new to this world after all. One of your uni friends had you cover for her at this club not too long ago and the boss took a liking to you. She admired your patience with the drunk women who cried in the bathroom stalls and how you always worked hard even if the club barely had customers.

“Hey, I'll be with you in a bit Ten, I need to meet with the bridal party.” Your boss excused herself and jogged over to her office.

You sat in silence, your head down as you watched your fingers twirl in your lap. You knew he was staring at you. Ten scooted in the chair next to you and you heard him sip on his drink and exhale deeply,

“Ever had a lap dance y/n ?”

Ten sucked in his bottom lip and you felt your heartbeat race as he placed his arm on your chair, his eyes narrowed and his smile turned into a smirk,

“Babygirl you're so cute, do I intimidate you ?”

“I'm just a little awkward I guess” you tried to ignore the little pet name he had given you but it sent chills down your spine. Ten’s demeanor changed and his eyes seemed softer, he swiveled his body to face you and his bright smile shone in the dim lighting.

“I'm here for a special request, there's a rich bride who hired me and I'm going to be performing for her” Ten explained, you could see the excitement in his eyes like a kid in a candy store, “I want you to watch my performance”

“-but I’ll be working tonight-”

“No no, I’ll tell Miya to give you a chance to be part of the audience” Ten waved his hand and chugged his drink, “It’s not everyday I get a first time viewer, especially one thats as innocent as you”

“I have watched the shows before…” you swallowed as you noticed his eyes had darkened again.

“Yeah but you haven't watched me, now have you ?” Ten wet his bottom lip with his tongue and reached for your hand, “I’ll tell you what, if you enjoy it I’ll give you a private dance free of charge”

Your eyes widened at his offer. What does a star performer like him want to do with someone like you ?

“W-why ?” you managed to say,

“I dont know y/n you're just so goddamn cute it drives me crazy.”

The club lights finally turned on and it glimmered shades of pink and purple as the bridal party made themselves comfortable up front, already on their third round of drinks. You were amazed that women indulged in things like this much like men, but this atmosphere was better, more wholesome. It was one of the reasons you decided to take the job. You were quite awkward being open sexually, and everyday you learnt from the women who came in that it was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Okay ladies, now you know you're in for a treat” Miya said into a microphone as she walked onto the stage. The women went crazy, already pulling out stacks of cash from their designer bags and gathered around the stage in anticipation.

The lights dimmed and you nervously took a seat just behind the bridal party as requested by Ten and pursed your lips, not knowing what to expect.

A sultry beat filled the room, you could feel the bass under your feet as the women screamed their heads off when a few regular strippers gathered on stage in police uniforms. The men danced around, discarding various pieces of clothing but this was all too familiar to you. Nothing really stood out from other shows that you had seen until Ten appeared.

Ten emerged from the smoke, dressed in black leather pants and a matching jacket that showed off his bare chest adorned with a harness. He pushed back his hair as he slowly walked down the runway, the screams from the women obviously not being new to him. Ten got down to his knees as he looked over the bride-to-be, his eyes were mischievous as he slowly rid himself of his jacket and threw it into her lap. You watched intently as he ran his hand down his body, pushing his head back as if he were in ecstasy by his own touch.

You were hypnotized, watching his every move as he swayed his body along with the music and touched himself in the process. It felt so dirty to watch but you couldn't help yourself, you were intrigued, you wanted more. Ten wasn't as naked as the rest of the men yet you could tell that all eyes were on him and him only. He climbed up the pole, moving his hips against it, making love to it in front of everyone. You unconsciously squeezed your thighs together as you noticed his eyes on you for a brief second as his feet reached the floor and began grinding on the pole.

You felt light headed to the point of rushing to the bar and grabbing a glass of water, not realizing that the show had now come to an end and Ten was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s good huh” The bartender chuckled as you cooled yourself down,

“Oh yeah he’s really good” you sighed and you heard a snicker come from behind you.

“Well thank you” Ten grabbed a glass of water from the bartender and leaned on the counter to face you, “ready for that lap dance ?”

You found yourself nodding and Ten smirked, holding out his hand “Shall we ?” You took his hand and he led you upstairs where the private rooms were located. You never had a chance to check them out since they were rarely booked out because they were so ridiculously priced.

“Baby can I ask you one more question ?” Ten purred as he set you on the fluffy pink couch and stroked your cheek as you looked up to him and nodded,

“Y-yeah sure”

“Are you a virgin ?”

You shook your head and Ten raised his eyebrow, “Oh baby is a little naughty then ?”

You felt your face burn up and shook your head, “It was only with my ex-boyfriend and we didn't do…..much”

Ten placed a kiss on your hands and made his way to the cd player, ready to pick out a song. You sat awkwardly as he removed his jacket, standing in the middle of the room with just his leather pants and harness.

“Dont worry, I’ll only fuck you if you ask me nicely” he smirked, you swallowed hard as he swayed his hips and made his way over to you. Ten smirked as you sunk into the couch, your eyes practically devouring him as he danced slowly and sultry, concentrating on his hip movements as you bit down on your lip.

Ten got down on his knees and his hooded eyes locked with yours as he continued to sway to the music and his hands danced lightly over your thighs sending you into a frenzy. He pushed your legs apart and used his hands to lift himself off the floor until he was hovering over you, his eyes scanning every part of your body.

You leaned back so he could straddle you, allowing him to grind his body against you until you felt every part of him. “You can touch me if you want y/n” he whispered into your ear and you already found your hands on his waist, enamoured by how perfect his body was.

Ten wrapped his hand lightly around your throat and looked at your lips, waiting for a confirmation from you. Already nodding, Ten pressed his lips against yours passionately, literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

“Ten-I want you to…” you tried to speak against his rough kisses.

“Want me to what baby, use your words” he growled against your ear,

“What you said earlier….I want you to-”

“I said use your words tell me what you want me to do or else you won't get it babygirl” Ten squeezed your throat a little harder, smirking when he heard your pretty moan for the first time.

“I want you...to fuck...me” you finally said softly, Ten groaned at the sweetness in your voice. It sounded so innocent yet so vile at the same time and he couldn't contain himself any longer.

Ten ripped open your white dress shirt and skillfully pulled off your trousers, leaving you on the couch in just your matching lilac underwear. His smirk grew as you slowly reached for his pants, helping him unbuckle it.

He discarded his pants and propped your legs up on the couch as you sat there, spread open for him, wanting him. Ten got to his knees and took the sight in, the way he looked at you was absolutely filthy. He cocked his head to the side and took a seat on the floor, resting his hands behind him as he stared at you,

“Take off your underwear and touch yourself”

You swallowed hard at his words, you had never done something like this before and just him watching you like this made you slightly nervous. You played with the hem of your underwear and you noticed how intently he watched you, eager eyes and wet lips waited for you.

You gathered up the courage and slipped them off, bringing your fingers between your legs and hesitantly began to please yourself.

“You don't like to be touched, or do you want me to do it ?” Ten’s dark eyes bore into yours, “do you want me to teach you how to do it?”

Without giving him an answer Ten got in between your legs and his hands ghosted over your inner thighs, sending a shiver down your spine. He watched your eyes close as his fingers inched closer to your heat, dancing around but not close enough to where you needed him to be.

“Please” you whimpered as he teased you, placing soft kisses on your thighs as his finger finally entered you and your beautiful moan echoed throughout the room. Ten slowly withdrew his finger and inserted it at an agonizing pace, adding another when he felt you shift in your spot in frustration.

“Someones in a rush” he cooed as he slowly fingered you, bringing you to your breaking point multiple times. Ten finally decided to quit his games and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he used his free hand to discard his boxers.

Once you licked him clean Ten positioned himself in front of you with his tip at your entrance. “If it's too much tell me to stop okay, I can be a bit….rough” he ran his fingers through his hair and winked at you.

He pushed himself into you with one thrust and you threw your head back practically screaming his name. Unlike his fingers he wasted no time in bringing you to your climax with his fast sharp movements, hitting that sweet spot every single time.

You felt your orgasm build up rapidly and you threw your hands around his neck as he only moved faster, the room filled with your whimpers and his soft grunts. Ten dug his nails into your waist as he came undone with you, it had been a while that he actually felt that type of euphoria, and all he wanted was more, more of you.

“There's a lot I need to teach you y/n” Ten sighed as he took a seat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, “Do you want to learn from me?”

You nodded already feeling yourself wanting him inside you again,

“Good girl.”

[primalsouls]

white rabbit pt 4

langa hasegawa x gn! reader (pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3)

anon: will white rabbit have a part 4? ( if yes pls pls give them a happy ending hehe ) but its oki if you dont want to, no pressure! i just really enjoyed it and i love ur writing btw :)

⚠️ : im terrible at picking up what's a trigger, so let me know is there's anything uncomfortable!

theme: general

note: ooh my heart 💔 rip white rabbit 🐇🙏🕊 anyway, here's pt 4! :> i hope you like it and enjoy it! and thank you for reading! let me know what you think. :) i really like this chapter the most lol

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

"Leave... Wonderland?"

"Forever?"

Reki and Langa stared at Adam with frowns on their face. Eyes widen at the words. Whispers surrounded them quick, destroying the small silence that gave the words to settle in for everyone. Blue eyes looked back at the [h/c]-haired skater. Their head still hanged low but he could see the sheer rage their fists held.

"He's saying that... [Y/N] [L/N], the White Rabbit, is leaving S." Miya repeated.

"Forever. Meaning.... They're kicked out." Shadow sighed, shaking his head.

Hearing those words, [Y/N] gritted their teeth and unclenched their fists. They looked up at Adam, a pleading expression on their face as they pulled their hoodie back.

"P-please... I don't wanna leave." They said, voice cracked in the beginning. Langa's heart broke at the sight. But before he could do anything, Adam walked up to them. "I'll do anything, please. Let me stay!" They continued but they flinched when their board was taken away from them harshly by Adam.

"A bet is a bet. Besides, it's about time S gets rid of its pests." Adam grinned. He snapped his finger, a couple of men bringing in a can of gasoline and a box of matches. Their eyes widen. Langa and the rest of his friends stood frozen, unable to believe the scene before them. Silence took over the crowd. [Y/N] knew they couldn't do anything to stop Adam from destroying their skateboard. "You should have won and this wouldn't happen. Remember, it's your fault." He said quietly. And with sheer power, he lifted the board and broke it in half with his knee. [Y/N] stared at him with wide eyes and mouth gaped slightly in shock. Tears pooled up and streamed down their cheeks one by one, one after the other.

"N-no... please, don't..." They whispered, a hand reaching out weakly but it didn't move much. [Y/N] was too shock to move any more than an inch.

Adam threw the broken board on the ground. He was handed the gasoline and the box of matches. He poured the liquid over the pieces, his masked eyes never leaving his younger sibling's face. Their look of terror filled him with chills. He loved it. Such as he loved the finish touch to the punishment. With elegance, Adam pulled out a match and stroke it on the igniter side of the box. Fire bursts on the matchstick. Adam flicked it onto the broken board like it was nothing and within seconds, flames burst to life, consuming the skateboard.

Langa watched with horror. [Y/N] didn't deserve that. They didn't deserve to leave. A bet wasn't even established. So, why? Why was this happening? His eyes went up to [Y/N].

"White Rabbit-"

"They're no longer go by that title." Adam interrupted coldly. "By losing this beef, no only are they banned from S, their title is no longer theirs to claim. White Rabbit is dead." Langa's eyes widen as his frown deepened. He couldn't believe it. This was not supposed to happen. Not supposed to lead to this results. No one supposed to be kick out or strip from their title. Adam reached a hand out. Langa saw how tensed [Y/N] got as the hand grew closer to them. The gloved fingers gently held into the S pin. It was on their collar of their hoodie but the next second, it wad ripped off from them. He threw it into the flames.

"I... I'm sorry..." [Y/N] apologized. Langa didn't understand. There was nothing to apologize for. Was it for Adam? For losing the race and everything they built for themselves? [Y/N] kept staring at the board, not noticing Adam turned his back on them. But his last words lef them in breaking in pieces.

"And don't bother coming home. A wild animal like you don't belong there. Never had and never will." As his final saying, Adam picked up his board and walked away but stopped to face Langa with a smirk. "Oh, and once again, my dear SNOW, congratulations." Langa blinked, watching Adam disappeared from everyone's sight.

"Damn..." Shadow muttered.

"Vanished from S... what a turn of events." Miya commented quietly.

Reki frowned at Adam's disappearing figure before he turned to Langa and [Y/N]. Everyone else slowly departed. Reki walked up to the two skaters, the broken board still caught in flames. Tears continued to spill from their eyes, Reki saw. Before the two could say any sort of comfort words to them, [Y/N] turned away from them and ran, ran as fast as they could. Away. They needed to get away and breathe. They couldn't breathe properly. Their chest was killing them. Sobs caught in their throat when they tried to cry. It hurts them. Their heart hurts. Everything was always their fault. They deserved. They believed they deserved it. They weren't a Shindo. They were a pest in the family. That was why Adam-no-Ainosuke told them not to come home. He was kicking them out. He was probably make up a lie to their aunts to make it seem it was their decision. For the better of the Shindo Family, they would say.

Life truly wasn't fair.

"C'mon, let's go!" Langa said, getting ready to chase after them but Reki grabbed his arm, pulling him back. He winced, the grip on his arm reminded him of the injuries he received during the race. "Wha- what? We have to go after them, Reki." He said, pointing towards [Y/N] running off.

"But you'll hurt even more with injuries like this. Besides, it's not our business. What happened with them was between them and Adam." Reki said. Miya nodded as he walked up to them.

"He's right, Langa. We should stay out of it. They're no longer of importance." Miya added in, crossing his arms over his chest. Langa frowned at the two boys.

"It's probably not the best time to even go after them. It's best that we mind our own business for now." Shadow advised, the other two boys giving affirmative responses. Langa tried to come up with reasons to go after them, but Reki shook his head and led Langa awau from the factory, pointing out the cuts once again. That was the last time Langa saw [Y/N].

The past couple of weeks, they were no were in sight. No familiar white hoodie resembling a white rabbit was found around S. No one spoke about them. It was like they never existed in the first place. As if S never heard of a skater called White Rabbit. Langa tried to find ways to get into contact with them but whenever he mentioned them, he was ignored, shut down, avoided. He was worried for them, for their safety. If Adam truly meant his words, then where would [Y/N] be? Langa wanted to make sure they were okay. That was all he wanted to know.

"[Y/N]... where are you?" Langa muttered as he walked through the park. He was planning to meet Reki at their usual hangout. Although, he wanted to clear his mind out of [Y/N] and the events that occurred. It wasn't their fault. It was his. If he never beef against them, Langa would had still see them every night at S, even from a fair distance to admire them. They would still be in his life, somehow.

"Ah, sorry..." A tired voice said. Langa looked down, not realizing he bumped into someone. He did felt something hit him as he walked, but he didn't pay too much attention. Langa opened his mouth to apologize instead but words were caught in his throat. His eyes widen. He couldn't believe it. The board in his hand dropped to the ground beside him, both hands reaching up a bit.

"It's you..." Langa whispered. Confusion replaced the apologic gaze on their face. "White Rabbit." When the title left his lips, it was their turn for their eyes to grew wide. Langa smiled brightly. "It's you, White Rabbit. [Y/N]." Langa was happy. He found his white rabbit once more. But no more words left Langa's lips as a hand slapped his cheek. It took him a second to register the outcome. A shaky hand of his reached to touch the burning cheek. He flinched when his fingers came into contact. "Wh-what?" A handprint appeared as a light red shade on his cheek. His eyes focused on them. They didn't wore their signature hoodie. Only a black one with dark blue jeans and white Vans shoes. Their eyes were still the same crimson color but filled with anger. And sadness? Langa parted his lips, unable to say anything.

"Don't call me that name. Because of you, I'm no longer.... that..." [Y/N] spat out, glaring dangerously at Langa. "You took everything away from me. You ruined my life!" They yelled, all the feelings they tried to bottle in exploded. Langa watched with a shook expression as they ranted off on him. He may be dense to others' emotions but he could pick up the hurt in [Y/N]'s voice. The way they trembled with rage. He didn't like that. Langa didn't like seeing them upset. Especially when hd was the one who caused it.

"I'm sorry."

[Y/N] paused, staring at Langa with wide eyes. Their frown grew deeper as they tried to find any sort of pity or joke in his baby blue eyes. In which they felt like they were looking at the ocean. So blue. Like the sky. [Y/N] shook their head rapidly, gritting their teeth.

"Oh, shut up. I don't need your pity. And I doubt you're sorry! Because of you, not only was I kicked out of S, I was kicked out of my home... Not like it ever felt like home anyway..." They said, mumbling the last words but Langa caught them.

"Wait? Home... Where were you staying at?" Langa asked, voice filled with concern. [Y/N] scrunched their nose, eyes narrowed. "I swear, I'm not pitying you. I'm actually... worried. I've been worried for a long time now. Ever since you left S." Langa said, looking away from them, sudden feeling timid for no particular reason. They raised a brow, watching Langa's movements to fact-check his worries. There was no hint of him lying. But they still kept their guard up. "I even asked around back in S for the past few weeks. Not one single person said anything...It's like you-"

"-never existed." They continued for him softly, eyes casted down to the ground. Their features relaxed but Langa noted the sadness stayed. No anger in sight. They sighed tiredly, running a hand through their hair. "Doesn't matter... Just stop it." [Y/N] crossed their arns over their chest, raising a brow. "Beside, the hell you kept asking about me? Aren't you happy I've been kicked?"

Langa shook his head right away once the question next their lips.

"No. I'm not happy. In fact, I..." Langa took a deep breath, trying to think on his words before they left his mouth. "I'm not enjoying myself." He mumbled, making [Y/N] take a step closer to hear him properly. They tilted their head, lips tugged down a bit as they urged him to repeat himself and keep going. "It makes me sad not to see you at S anymore. I didn't want any of that to happen. I didn't even know what was going on." Langa shrugged, looking at them with a pout. A pout they found adorable. He looked like a kicked puppy who didn't like the fact their owner left their home everyday. [Y/N] mentally cringed at the thought. What were they thinking? This was the same guy who went up against their brother and banned them from S. They hated him. They were supposed to hate him. [Y/N] clicked their tongue, throwing Langa off the sense, wondering if he said anything wrong. A faint red hue decorated their cheeks. They turned their back on him, hugging themselves.

"Whatever. Whether you knew what was going on or not, doesn't matter. My board got destroyed and I can't go back to S. Everything happened..." [Y/N] whispered, arms slowly fell back to their sides as they watched the sun beginning to settle down for the rest of the day. "I've got nothing... I've got no one-"

"You got me." Langa butt in. The words made them do a double take on him. It caught them off guard. And Langa continued to surprise them. A determined glint in his eyes as he stepped closer. "Reki can build you a new board and we can all skate. Together. We can skate outside of S, anyway. It'll be fun!" Langa bounced a bit in his steps, smiling brightly. "We can hang out together. And if you don't have a job, you can work with Reki and me. You even move in wi-"

"Stop..."

"We can go to school togeth-"

"Stop it."

"You got us! So, you don't have to wor-"

"Shut up!"

Langa blinked, taken back by the sudden outburst from [Y/N]. He focused back on them, confused why they told him to quiet down. Their brows knitted down, hands clutched by their side. The sunset shoned behind them. The soft breeze brushed against their figure out. And if Langa squinted, he could had notice their faint blush reddened slightly. They looked cute. He wanted to see them blush again.

"Just... why are you doing this?" They asked, their eyes looking anywhere but Langa. They were shy. They found it unbelievable but it happened. They were shy.

Langa stared at them for a moment, making [Y/N] nervous.

"Because I like you."

Those words froze [Y/N] on the spot. Their eyes widen, lips parted slightly. The words ran through their mind like an echo. Langa's charmed smile implanted with it.

"And I want to be your friend."

Impossible.

"That's..." [Y/N]'s face was burning up. Cheeks redder they matched their eyes. "That's stupid." They blurted out quickly, taking a step back. Langa frowned a bit, not unexpecting that sort of answer to his confession. A confession they weren't sure if they were happy about or sadden by it.

"No one wants to be my friend. No one likes me... That's what they always told me." [Y/N] took another step back, brows knitted down but not in anger but in sorrow. Every step they took back, Langa takes one forward. "I'm unlovable... I don't... deserve it." The young former skater shook their head, as if snapping into reality. Tears welled up on their eyes. "You don't like me. You don't. You don't, you don't, you don't, you don't," They repeated quietly, hugging themselves as the tears rolled down their cheeks. Langa panicked. He didn't wanted to upset them. What they said made him wonder who told them such statements. They trembled and he didn't know what to do.

Except for one thing. And he hoped he don't get slap doing so.

Arms wrapped around their frame, a hand on their head as the other rest on their lower back. The hand stroke their head as the other ran their back in a circular form. Langa closed his eyes, hugging [Y/N] closed to him.

"Shh... shh... It's okay, [Y/N]..." He whispered. "Whoever told you those things, they... they don't know what they're talking about." Langa took a deep breath. "But I'm telling the truth. And you do deserve it." He pulled away a bit, cupping their face with his hands and made them looked at him. "I like you. I like you very much. And even though I want to be more, I do want to be your friend." Langa smiled genuinely, blue eyes staring into red ones. "So, please... let me be your friend."

[Y/N] stared at Langa, stunned in his embrace. The blush darkened as Langa continued. They couldn't believe it. Their heart pounded little by little with every word Langa spoke. The hands on their face felt nice. The comfort hug was something they never experienced. They only got hurt by the hands of those who dared say they loved them. But, for whatever reason, they trusted Langa's words.

"Please... don't hurt me..."

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning into Stone, Chapter 6

A/N Where does the time go?  I lugged my laptop 7,000km round trip with the sole intention of working on this fic, but that apparently didn’t happen.  For those who found the last chapter hard to bear, I apologize in advance.  I am not quite finished being cruel.  With that said, trigger warning for character death, childhood disease, suicide ideation.  The chapter title is Sleeping in the Clouds.

The first five chapters are available on my AO3 page.

Five Months Later

A persistent mechanical bleating lifted Claire from the indeterminate depths of medicated sleep.  The emergency contact number she provided to all her patients was programmed to forward to her mobile, where a particularly aggravating ringtone ensured she would never miss a call.  Even at one am on a Tuesday night.

Fumbling for the device, she glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering.

“Doctor Beauchamp speaking.”  Her voice was gritty and rough.  She reached for a half-filled tumbler of water while waiting for the caller to identify themselves.  Over the line she could make out muted traffic noise, and perhaps a distant foghorn, but no-one spoke.

“Hello?” she inquired, torn between concern that a patient needed her and frustration that she might have been woken by a misdialed number.

“If you’re one of my patients, you need to talk to me so that I can help you.”

There was an intake of breath, a weepy sniffle, and then the click of the call being terminated.  A prickle of gooseflesh washed over her.  She couldn’t say exactly how, but she knew who had called, and that he needed her.

One of the grim perks of her job was that she had backdoor access to reverse look-up for telephone numbers, in cases where there was a threat of self-harm or harm to others.  As Claire hastily donned socks and grabbed a winter coat, she waited on hold for the PSAP operator to provide an address.

“We’re in luck, Doctor Beauchamp.  It wasna a mobile number.  In fact, tis a telephone booth.  Gote Lane, in Queensferry.  Down near the... umm, next tae the bridge.”

Without so much as a thank you, she hung up and frantically punched the app for an Uber.

Fifteen nail biting minutes and an excessive tip later, she stood in front of an empty phone booth.  Predictably, the directory had been torn out, leaving only a thin metal cord and car-key graffiti inside the cramped interior.  But on top of the phone itself she found a familiar ecru business card, her name and credentials embossed in black font.

“Damn it, Jamie,” she muttered to herself, palming the card.

If he’d hung up and started walking towards the bridge, she might be able to catch him if she ran all out, but something called her towards the nearby shore instead.

The tide was out, leaving a narrow strip of beach and sharp, slimy rocks exposed to the heavy air.  Her nostrils were assaulted by the briny vegetative rot of the retreating sea.

On a weathered bench facing the river, encircled by a cone of foggy streetlight, sat a man, his eyes trained on the smudgy lights of the Queensferry bridge hovering high above.  Even bundled in a heavy black jacket and watch cap, she would recognize his long limbs and the set of his shoulders anywhere.  She let out a long breath of relief.

She approached the bench cautiously, not certain if her presence would be welcome.  Instead of turning to greet her footsteps, Jamie addressed the bridge.

“Maggie passed t’day.  I called ‘cause I wanted ye tae know, but then I couldna find the words tae tell ye.”  Despite his refusal to look at her, his words were calm and without a hint of the bitterness she’d expected.

“Oh, Jamie.  I’m so terribly sorry.  I didn’t know her well, but she was a very special little girl who loved you dearly.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of her words, but didn’t reply.  She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pajamas, her hair doubtless a veritable cumulus of tangled curls.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.  “I still have some contacts at the hospital, I could...” she broke off, knowing it was ridiculous to offer professional assistance when she’d been the one to sever their relationship.

“Would ye, if it’s no’ too much tae ask, would ye mind jus’ sittin’ here with me fer a bit?”

He finally turned to look at her, and she could see the spider web of red veins that surrounded his irises, testimony to his heartbreak.  His mouth, usually such an accurate barometer of his mood, was strangely inert.  She nodded, unable to deny him such a simple request.

It was the time of night when the daytime symphony of the city broke into its component parts, every passing car, every lapping wave a single instrument singing its own plaintive song.  They sat in silence for long enough that she could feel the damp creeping up the legs of her pajamas.

“Maggie loved tae cross that bridge,” Jamie said at last.  “She’d lower her window, rain or shine, and stick her wee arm out, sayin’ it felt like she was flyin’.”

Claire smiled at the image, trying to picture the little girl with the giant imagination.

“What colour was her hair, Jamie?” she asked.  “Was it red, like yours?”

“Nah, dark, like Jenny’s and our Da.  But wi’ curls like mine and my Ma’s.  A little like yours, actually, Sassenach.  That is, before the chemo took it away.”

She grimaced, not knowing what topic to choose that wouldn’t lead Jamie on a path directly back to his grief.

“She fought sae hard,” he continued before she could attempt another distraction, “but the cancer wouldna let her win.”  Tears were rolling down his cheeks, glinting in the sodium light like stars, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.  “She was the best person I knew.  Sounds strange tae say of a wee lass, but she truly was.  An’ it made me a better person tae love her.  What the fuck am I gonna do now?”

Jamie was looking straight at her, as though he truly expected her to offer useful guidance.  All her training, her professional distance, fell away in the face of one broken man.  She swallowed, searching for words that weren’t a platitude.

“You’re going to go on living, because she can’t.  Because your happiness, when you are ready to feel it again, will be a gift to her memory.”

Jamie sniffed, then wiped his sleeve across his face.  He placed his hand on the bench between them.  Without allowing herself to think, Claire reached for it, finding his skin surprisingly warm.  There was an agonizing fermata, when all the instruments held their breath, and then he turned his palm upwards to meet her own.  Beneath the fog the river slipped by, blending endlessly into the sea.

"Look, Jamie, I know it’s not the right time, but I want to tell you that I’m sorry.  For the way I treated you, and ended things, and...”

“Nay, Sassenach, it’s me who should apologize.  I had no right tae throw my diagnosis at ye like some kinda weapon.  An’ when I think of how I heedlessly brought up yer becoming a mother.  I, of all people.  Weel, suffice it tae say I’ve spent many an hour regretin’ my words an’ actions.”

She squeezed his hand, wordlessly declaring them equal in remorse.

“How have ye been?” he inquired, peering at her as though trying to read her state of mind on the planes of her face.  She chuckled, looking away when the intensity of his gaze became too much.

“About the same, I suppose.  Better some days than others.  Geillis has started ordering my lunches for me, so I no longer have any excuse not to eat.”  Jamie nodded, seemingly pleased with this news.

“And you?  Are you still seeing Dr. Rafferty?  I... uhh, I know his office requested your file.”

In fact, Giles Rafferty had called her the week after her confrontation with Jamie, wondering why his new patient’s record of treatment contained no more than his biographical details and the time and date of each of his appointments.  She told him the same thing she’d told Geillis when she asked the same question in significantly cruder terms: that her weekly interactions with Jamie had never led to a professional diagnosis or a recommended course of treatment.

“Aye. He’s a good man, although tragically immune tae my charms.  Unlike some.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Fraser,” she warned, although his rakish grin warmed her from the inside out.

“I’ll be darkening his doorway wi’ some frequency, after t’day,” he continued with a return to solemnity.

And yet you called me, Claire wanted to say, but didn’t.  When his beloved niece had slipped away, hers had been the number he had dialed, despite everything.  The very idea made her thoughts flit about like fireflies.

“I missed ye, Sassenach,” he confessed quietly after a time.

“I missed you too, Jamie.”

They sat together through the thin hours of the night, talking, sharing memories of Maggie, but mostly in silent companionship.  As dawn brightened the eastern sky, the fog began to lift, revealing an overcast sky.  The lights of the bridge blinked out, and the city’s music began anew.  Claire wished futilely that day would never break, knowing that it would bring them both the pain of two very different kinds of goodbye.

Her hand, when Jamie finally let it go, felt strange, as though it had been separated from its source.  She tucked it quickly into her pocket.

“I.. errr, I need tae be goin’,” Jamie said by way of apology.  “Ian and Jenn will be needin’ me.”

“Yes, of course.  I’ll just, um, call myself an Uber.”

They were both standing, neither seemingly knowing how to part.

Jamie opened his mouth, paused, shook his head in frustration, then looked away.  Her traitorous hand escaped her pocket and found its way to his chest.

“I’ll be thinking of you.  All of you.  If there’s anything, anything at all..”

“How long until your no’ my doctor anymore?  Ethically speakin’.”  He was looking at her in a way that made the fireflies whirlpool about.

“What?” she asked to buy herself some time to breath.

“Before I go an’ face everything that is wrong about t’day, I want tae ken, how long must I wait before I can kiss ye again wi’out riskin’ yer reputation?”

“There’s no written timetable,” she stalled.  “It’s a question of a doctor exerting undue influence or the exploitation of the patient’s trust, and there’s really...”

“Those rules are meant tae protect the patient, aye?  So I should be allowed tae waive them, no’?”

“Jamie...”

“Fine, let me rephrase my question.  Doctor Claire Beauchamp, when can I, James Fraser, ask ye tae look upon me as a potential suitor and no’ a former patient?  Six months?  A year?  Two years?”

“You really are the most infuriatingly stubborn man,” she huffed.

“Aye, I ken.  Sae, two years?  Do we have an agreement, Sassenach?”

“Fine, yes, two years, but Jamie, I don’t expect you to...”

A finger was placed across her lips, silencing her protests.

“Two years are naught if I can kiss ye again once they have passed.  Until then, Claire, please take care of yerself.”

She stood by the bench long after Jamie was gone, staring out across the river.  A flock of geese flew by in formation, broad wings nearly touching the surface of the water as it reflected the steel gray clouds above.  She thought of little Maggie, and her birdhouse surrounded by clouds.  A sob wrestled its way up her throat, surprising in its urgency.  And then, she allowed herself to cry.

[tomthesoftie]

let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears 

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In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat. 

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties. 

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours. 

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan. 

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers. 

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically. 

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision. 

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids. 

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration. 

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes. 

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground. 

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.” 

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle. 

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies. 

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship. 

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life. 

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips. 

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair. 

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal. 

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance. 

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.” 

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation. 

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

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[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

-

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.