#But they are a little plain yeah. which means them hard to draw?? To get them to look like. well. them ^^;

[anothermonikan]

If I'm gonna keep having G5 brainrot I need to learn how to draw these ponies and god,,,guys I know you guys prefer the G4 artstyle to G5's TYT one, but I should not have to go digging for TYT pony references because the first results when I search up a characters name is fanart of them in the G4 artstyle instead. please

[icyharrington]

haii okay this is #82 on the prompt list for steve, requested also by my lovely boothang @wroteclassicaly​ !!

“this is a one time thing.”

contains: daddy kink, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, dirty talk, u suck steve’s dick at work lol

“You’re- fuck- crazy,” Steve Harrington breathes against your mouth as you shove him back into the supply closet of Scoops Ahoy with enough force to knock several cleaning products off of the shelf. He goes to pick them up off the floor, but you stop him in his tracks, yanking him back to you by the front of his dorky uniform. “Fuck. We have to be quick or Robin’s gonna kick my ass.”

“You are so cute when you’re nervous,” you coo, standing on your tiptoes so you can wrap your arms behind his neck. “Especially in your little outfit.”

“Gee, thanks, (y/n)! That totally wasn’t emasculating at all,” he mutters bitterly, before plucking his hat off and flinging it off to the side. “There. Better? Now you can see my hair in all its glory.”

“No, I liked it!” you protest, pouting at him the way you always do when you’re being particularly bratty. “I’ve always wanted to blow you while you’re in your work uniform.”

He scrunches up his face in a mixture of apparent disgust and confusion, which makes you laugh. “Why?”

“I dunno. Why not?” You sink to your knees, unbuckling his belt. He licks his lips as he watches you, the anxiety on his face transforming into something entirely different, but all too familiar.

“I can’t believe you visited me at my job just to do this,” he murmurs, although he doesn’t sound particularly vexed. It sounds more like he’s in awe of your boldness, if anything. “You are so fucking bad.”

“I should visit you here more often,” you think aloud, as your fingers work his shorts down to gather around his ankles. He’s wearing a pair of plain white boxers underneath, which you think look sexy on him despite their plainness, but then again, you literally think he’s sexy in a cheesy sailor costume.

He’s frowning, but it’s obvious that he’s trying very hard to maintain his rule-abiding facade. “No, (y/n). This is a one time thing, okay? I could lose my job.”

You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “You’re really going to deprive your girlfriend of two different types of free cream?”  

You say this to make Steve laugh, and it works; he’s shaking his head incredulously, arms lifting to fold behind his head as he grins down at you. “You are such a fucking slut, (y/n). I mean, jeez!”

Reaching into his underwear, you take hold of this gradually strengthening erection, working it back and forth in your fist for a few strokes until he’s fully hard. Steve’s cock is big, and even though you’re well aware of that fact, it’s still such a shock each time you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You love to tease him there, trailing your fingertips up and down the protruding veins that travel through, until he’s swearing lowly under his breath. “Yeah, but you love it, though.”

“Yeah, ya got me there.” He takes a fistful of (h/c) hair as you strip off his boxers, taking him into your mouth without hesitation. “Fuck. You’re my little slut. Can’t get enough of my big dick, can you?”

You attempt to shake your head as you move your head up and down his length, placing your hands on his muscular thighs in order to take him deep, just how he likes. His head lolls back as he lets out a hoarse groan from the back of his throat, bucking his hips against your face until you’re sputtering. “Yeah, I like you like this. It’s the only time you’re not running that bratty-ass mouth.”

Since you’re unable to retort, you shoot a venomous glare in his direction, though you continue to work on his cock with your mouth. He has a firm hold on the back of your head, preventing you from drawing back when he begins to slide his cock further into your narrow throat. “Yeah, good girl. Take all of it.”

He keeps you in place as he shifts himself back and forth, fucking your face at a leisurely tempo; and, like his little whore, you stay kneeling for him, hands folded primly in your lap. It’s a dynamic that you love- you, the devious, mastermind submissive, and Steve, the flustered dominant.

You can’t do much besides bat your eyelashes up at him as he essentially uses your mouth to masturbate, his jaw clenching as he knits his brows in concentration. He’s going so hard that there’s saliva dribbling down your chin and black smudges of mascara ringing your eyes, but you’re too wrapped up in his taste to care how badly he’s wrecking you.

“Fuck- yeah, that’s it. Take it nice and deep for daddy,” he encourages, his breath lodging in his throat for a brief moment. He loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to regain some control of the situation. You decide to relocate your mouth to his balls for a change in scenery, reveling in his frantic moans as your tongue laps aimlessly at the sensitive skin there. “Fuck, (y/n). That’s my good little slut. You gonna swallow all my cum, baby?”

You nod eagerly, between sloppy strokes of your tongue against him. “You know I will, daddy.”

“Shit…” he mumbles, looping a portion of your hair around his hand and using it to steer you back to your original position. “Open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, opening wide as he angles his cock over your mouth, pumping himself with his fist until his stomach muscles contract, a telltale sign that he’s about to cum. He manages a breathless, “wider,” before he releases his load into your waiting mouth, his orgasm accompanied by a series of strangled grunts and moans.

Steve is so sexy when he cums, with his plump lips bitten red and forehead slick with afterglow; you watch him adoringly as he rides out his orgasm, mouth falling open to call your name.

You swallow his cum, letting the salty-sweet taste coat your mouth as it slides down your throat. Once it’s gone, you proudly display your empty mouth for Steve to let him know that you’ve done your job.

It takes a moment for him to snap back into reality, his eyes half-lidded and dazed as they scan his surroundings, and then you. He strokes your hair with his massive hands, humming, “that’s my girl.”

He redresses himself as you stand up and retrieve his hat for him, which you find overturned beside the mop bucket. Your knees are sore and will likely be covered in bruises tomorrow, but you don’t mind a few bumps here and there if it means pleasing Steve. “Do you think Robin’s wondering where you are yet?”

“No,” comes a familiar singsong voice from the other side of the closet door, and you and Steve whip your heads to look at each other, eyes wide. Of course Robin had overheard the whole encounter, and had chosen not to say anything until now. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell! As long as you promise to wash your hands before you get back to work, Stevey-poo.”

Robin laughs obnoxiously, and you’re caught between drinking the nearest cleaning chemical or busting into hysterics yourself.

Steve, on the other hand, looks like he wants to die, a pained expression painted across his crimson-flushed cheeks.

“God fucking damn it, (y/n).”

[raisethestake]

Hatred?

Sirius Black x reader (NSFW)

18+ only please

If you want a THIRST story, here you go.

From a few years back, but may as well put it into the world for anyone simping for Sirius as hard as I do.

Warnings: dominance, light BDSM, full on sex, suggestions of abuse.

Character backstory here (not relevant to enjoy this story, but might provide more insight):

Hatred?

She heard footsteps, and instantly prepared herself for the worst.

A few moments later, Sirius appeared at the dining room door, where she was cleaning the stove. Her hair was tied back messily and her hands were covered in black muck. She returned her attention to scrubbing after brief acknowledgement of his presence, seemingly unwilling to begin a conversation, so Sirius took this liberty.

Bad idea.

"You realize the dirt has been made by magical creatures? You can't remove it permanently." Sirius was right. For the past few days, she had been so tense that any words exchanged between them had led to an argument. She seemed to have taken to rising and going to bed later and later just to avoid his presence, and frankly he'd had enough.

"Do you realize there's also a hell of a lot of plain dirt from the fact that since living here you've not even lifted a finger?" She didn't even have to look up to deliver such a retort, and its infuriated Sirius all the more.

He scaled the side of the long room, down to where she was, picked up her bucket of water and began to make his way to the back door, when he felt a burning sensation. She had her hand wrapped around his wrist, exuding so much energy it was scorching his skin. He tried to snatch his hand away but she held firm, her eyes finally meeting his. He'd got her attention.

"Give it back. I'm busy." Her voice seemed to come out as a menacing growl. Sirius fought back a strong urge to give her back the bucket. If he hasn't had so many years practice with Remus' wolf speech, he would've given in. Instead, he managed to use his free arm to open the closest window and toss the bucket out.

He expected her to attack him, but she simply let go of him and attempted to make her way to the kitchen to get another. He discreetly pointed his wand and whispered a barrier spell, smirking a little when she was unable to walk down the stairs. She stood on the first step and every inch of his skin burned as she looked at him with shining golden eyes.

"Why are you trying to stop me from being useful?"

"Because you’re only doing it to avoid me." Sirius stated confidently. He refused to let her get her way this time.

"So, I'm useless."

"I didn't say that. I said cleaning is useless"

"Why are you trying to control what I'm doing? I'm my own person not a fucking servant"

"A fucking servant would do a better job"

At this, she snapped. She took a step back from the stairs and advanced on him. "How am I supposed to do a better fucking job if you won't let me?!"

"You-"

"You offered me this house as my home! And you do nothing but act like a self-righteous brat who fucking owns the place!"

"I do own the-"

"Then treat the people in your home with some fucking respect!"

Sirius hated when she interrupted him. She seemed to be the only person who had the nerve to, which just fuelled his anger. "Look at you talking! If this is your home too, why don't you treat me with some fucking respect?"

"You don't deserve it!"

"Right, okay. I don't deserve respect but don't think you have a permanent place here.” Sirius instantly regretted his words as she finally broke her gaze away from his, a trace of hurt in her eyes.

"Yeah, sure. You can guarantee I'll be gone by the morning." She began to walk out of the room. He'd fucked it. He didn't mean that last comment. If she was to leave, things would go back to the way they were. Drawling days and lonely nights, just him and Kreacher. The rooms would no longer fill with music and geranium oils, but the same old dust mites and musty stench; his voice would crack when greeting someone after days on end of silence.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't go back to normal. The thought alone filled him with an aggression he couldn’t contain.

What he did next even surprised him. He moved before he had the chance to think, grabbed the back of her neck, and pulled her into a violent kiss. A few moments passed, and he could have sworn she started to kiss him back, when yet another sharp pain shot through his body. She had bitten his lip. Her neck still in his grasp, she pulled away by lowering her head onto his chest - the only way to separate their lips.

"Sirius, you can't do that." She said in a low, quiet voice.

"I can and I know you won't stop me." He felt like he had no control over his own body as he watched himself swallow down the taste of blood and pull her mouth back onto his. They continued to kiss - he was right. She was kissing him back. He dared to loosen his hold on her neck, and she didn't pull away. In fact, he wasn't sure she'd even noticed he'd practically let go. He used both of his now free hands to rub down the back of her thighs, pick her up and set her on the table with her legs spread.

"I could kill you right now." He heard her growl as he grabbed her hips and pulled her pelvis in to meet his.

He leaned over her, pushing her back, one hand keeping a firm hold on her backside, and said with a smirk "You definitely could but you don't want to."

"Oh, believe me, I want to."

As he pulled her in for another rough kiss, he ran his hand down her torso, down her pelvis and slid his fingers over her dripping pussy. "Oh, I can tell you want to." He said with a sly grin.

"I have a boyfriend, Sirius!"

Sirius grasped her jaw and pulled her gaze up to meet his. "Then tell me, right now, to stop."

Her eyes seemed to glaze over slightly, but she held his gaze firmly. "...I have a boyfriend, Sirius."

He held her gaze as he proceeded to slide his fingers inside her. He heard the smallest intake of breath as her whole body tensed. "Tell me you want me to stop."

She seemed to stare into his soul for a moment - her eyes filled with hatred. Sirius took the silence as a cue to kiss her again. He noticed her writhing unwillingly under his touch as his fingers moved inside her.

A few minutes passed, leaving them both panting and barely able to contain themselves - thirsty for more. His brutal side long having taken over, he pushed her further onto the table and climbed on top of her - using one hand to pin her wrists above her head, and pressed his hard cock into her body - letting out a low groan as he did so.

He kissed her again as he grinded against her. Their muscles seem to work in harmony. Her abs contracted with arousal and he noticed she had closed her eyes, seemingly in the moment. Overcome with greed, he released his grip on her to take off his shirt. She tried to bring her legs together to slide off the bench, but Sirius had his legs strategically placed so she was completely immobile from the waist down. He unzipped his pants and released his hard cock from his boxers. He leaned over her, breathing heavily into her neck as he pushed himself inside her. Hearing her sharp intake of breath, and he just made out the words "You fucking vile bastard" through a sigh of pleasure, causing him to scowl.

"Useless whore." Grunting in pain from a sharp nip on his neck, he grabbed her hair and fucked her as hard as he desired.

• • •

She had not expected this.

Since a few weeks back, when Sirius had offered her a home, he had had a few fits of anger. Mainly from people shutting down his ideas or playing it safe in meetings. She had been told to always keep her distance when this happened. Other people turned their backs, ignored him or became extremely interested in the closest book. They seemed convinced this was the best way to calm him down, and she had followed this tactic with the determination of becoming a good housemate. They were, of course, right, but she'd had enough of treating him like a child. Over the past few days, she'd begun to put him in his place, and he did not like it.

Whenever he made a snide comment, she pulled him up on it instead of letting it slide. She forced him to eat proper sized meals instead of picking at a block of cheese from the fridge, and made him carry a fully charged phone whenever he left the house without an explanation. It was probably the hardest challenge she has ever taken on, and she had been dragged into the underworld to make Hades his very own pet sun. All the same, she found herself compelled to see it through.

But this? I mean, a few minutes ago she had been cleaning as she did almost on the daily. Now she was lying under Sirius Black on the kitchen table getting fucked to oblivion. However, it's not as though she was complaining.

Wait. No. Of course she was complaining! Charlie was the most perfect boy you'd ever meet. He was outdoorsy, had the most charming grin and never failed to crack her up with his humour. She loved Charlie. She had always been certain. She loved his family, they worked well together and never really fought. It was perfect. So why was she suddenly questioning that whole relationship? The feeling right now was brand new. Something strange in her body. She was almost certain it was just plain old hate, but there was something different - she couldn't put her finger on what.

He had the strength of a berserker. He was able to hold her down even with one hand, his heavy hands grasping firmly. They owned her body so confidently she almost begged for more before stopping herself. She told herself she wouldn't let him get any satisfaction from this, but the more she resisted, the harder he seemed to get.

At one point she thought he'd had enough. He pushed himself off her and left her wrists go. Feeling a little let down at this early finish, she almost forgot to take this opportunity to get away. She tried to slide off the table, but Sirius had pushed his legs out into a certain position which meant she literally couldn't move at all. It was when she felt his cock enter her that she completely gave in.

"You fucking vile bastard." She heard herself say, and heard the response "Shut up you ugly, useless whore." She pushed her pelvis up, hoping she hit his balls for this comment. Sure enough, he let out a groan in pain, and pushed his cock in even deeper.

Thoughts were forgotten and instinct took over. It was only afterwards that she was able to process what happened.

She should have felt guilty. She was very much cheating on her boyfriend. But in that moment, all she could feel was bliss. She opened her eyes for a second and saw Sirius looked the exact same way. She didn't understand how she felt so good. There was nothing but tension and hatred between herself and Sirius. They could barely be in the same room most of the time. How had she ended up in this situation, and why did she like it?

Besides, Sirius was almost twice her age. Trivial things like age had never mattered in the demigod world, but she was in the wizarding world now. She had to get accustomed to the things that were different, and she was sure this would be looked down upon should anyone find out.

When Sirius started to slow a little, probably nearing climax, she pushed him off. He allowed her to sit all the way up, and, standing again, she pushed him over to the kitchen counter. She used one hand to cup his jaw, the other to caress his cock. Looking powerfully into his eyes, he got the message and started to sink to the floor. She straddled his lap and sat on him, letting him sink inside her again. She rode him deep ad she stripped off her cami and let him kiss between her tits.

When Sirius was too desperate to wait, he grabbed her waist, held her close to him and maneuvered them so he was on top of her, lying on the floor. Both were nearing climax and fucked until creamy white fluid dripped out of her vagina onto the cold slate floor. Sirius collapsed on top of her, panting into her neck for a few moments, before kissing all the way down her torso and finishing with a single lick of her vulva.

He knelt up and they stared at each other in silence, both still panting. Still lying on the floor, she crossed her legs defiantly, as if to say 'No more.' As Sirius set his back against the counter, She knelt up and began to get dressed. Wiping Sirius’ blood from her mouth, she picked up the blackened cloth that had been forgotten, wiped the fluid off the floor, and made her way down to the kitchen to wash. Sirius, aware that he was now covered in black dirt from her hands, grabbed his clothes and head up the stairs to shower.

[spiderh0rse]

notes on eddie's mind. the series itself is dreadfully short, so this post shall be as well. alas! i think he's probably one of my favourite mindverse characters by his portrayal here alone.

e1

he sleeps in a decrepit train car

tries to have breakfast! Out of breakfast! I'll give him points for trying

has no idea where his train has taken him

woke up at Night

considers blowing something up to open a path forward but drops it when he realizes that'll draw attention to him

eddie wakes up and Loots The Place. He's lookin for food mostly

a little surprised to see a body but pretty calmly takes its gun

EXTREME VIOLENCE AGAINST POISON HEADCRAB

he's got a neat way of talking where he'll say half a sentence, pause to figure out what the hell he's saying, and then finish it. Does just drop some sentences full out

a barnacle grabbing a headcrab makes his day. Gross to watch though

keeps referring to zombies as "individuals". That is charming

wonders what happened to Gordon. Reminded of him by some loose sciency and mathy papers

okay this guy is just plain adorable??

thinks the lambda everywhere just draws the cops to them

mocks the "ammunition depleted" alert

more than a bit unhappy at being trapped somewhere.

e2

audibly panicking at being trapped

deeply confused at resistance engineering

"zombies can't see in the dark. well, shit, I can't see in the dark either"

does Not feel well at the sight of a giant pit of zombies

just kind of uhs and ums and noises his way through the room

horribly unjazzed at having to walk into zombiepit even if it's probably safe

questions the puzzle design so much

has seen the Indiana Jones movie with the snake pit

he doesn't think he's seen a working tv that isn't one of the giant propaganda monitors

vents are a big thing in city 17 where he is, especially for resistance members, which he considers himself one of

we love when a guy falls and hits his head

reads stuff aloud! Mumbles it mostly but he does read out loud

Gordon got drunk and depressed a Lot

gets the zeo point projector and decides yeah maybe he should put that away

questions the safety of the projector

expects to die in the next year or so

shotgun :) beautiful.

hates going in circles but it happens so often

just hopes he doesn't cross more cops

has the puzzle gamer's instinct

e3

bit wary of large heights

hopes the gravity projector could be fun? and more importantly save his life?

Indiana Jones counter two

finds using the projector to break his fall disorienting

it is however the most useful weapon he's ever come across in his life

feels the only reason he's alive right now is blind luck

"I bet if I do that thing that giant door will open and lead to a. Beautiful utopia."

he's SO silly

"this is what I get for having HOPE" sobs as he shoots zombies

immediately stops the wailing when something fun happens

EAR DAMAGE THE GUEST STAR OF EVERY MIND SERIES

hes back to being lost he says. When was he ever Not lost

"nyih."

rocket launcher :D

sure that he should be concerned but not if the gunfire nearby is cause for alarm

theorizes all these indestructible doors are made of mystery indestructible material

deeply nauseated and disturbed st some corpse hanging from a ceiling

I can hear his voice drifting into a smaller typeset

attempts to reverse psychology his way out of hitting his head

not very good with aim

not terribly optimistic right now!

e4

"time to improvise I guess??" pulls out rocket launcher

by no means stoked to be fighting a strider

tbh there is not much to note because he's making half-words and noises most of the time. Which is charming but is not terribly backstory of him

HUH BRIGHT GREEN FLASH EPISODE ENDS

episode unends is this Doom

oh he is panicking so hard. sorry Eddie you have wandered your way into hell

bothered by the demons bleeding blue and the sky being weird

"i don't know what i did to deserve this,,,,," wettest cat noises I've ever heard in my life

[chainsawgirlfriend]

hmmmmm... a few questions!! what do the dimension numbers mean? whats your most recent story, and whats your oldest thats archived? and that old warrior cats fanstory! you said you repurposed it, how so ? :O ALSO! i finally got to downloading st agatha ill definitely let you know how i like it 👍👍👍 i adore indie games like it and im so hyped to play it

AAUGHH... THANK YOU!!! For the asks, and for trying St. Aggs. I owe you more than silly doodles, that's for sure. Not to give you more quests, but I would love to hear what characters you end up meeting during your gameplay :D

Also I'm so sorry, this will be Kind of A Lot but I will treasure you forever for sending me quastions <3 <3 Answers under the cut!

Also here is your corresponding art, of Thistle and Nettle to commemorate them being mentioned :) BUT I will draw something for each question you asked once I get to work tonight because HOLY HECK this means so much to me

Dimensional Numbers

Dimensions are layered on top of each other very closely, like layers of paint on a wall! The first one is Dimension 0, or the Underunder, where all energy (navitas) emanates from. As navitas slowly escapes (and eventually returns) to the Underunder, it creates life along the way.

There are the vertical layers, represented by whole numbers like 170, 2814, or 8, which are anchors for multidimensions (170.4, 2814.0009, 8.341, etc.) which are variants of their parent dimensions, and from a writing stand point for me act as canon AU's! For example, St. Agatha City, my game, is set in 714.2, because I didn't want it to disrupt the plots currently going on in plain old 714.

Basically, I just use them to keep track of things, but they also represent a potential for magic in a realm (the closer to 0, the higher the chance.) Above is a section of my ugly spread sheet I try to use to keep track of things! For some reason I decided the Simpsons is canon to my universe (????)

Oldest and Newest Works

Newest - I try VERY VERY hard not to come up with new stuff at the moment since I have so many characters and am working on St. Agatha diligently, buuut... old habits die hard!

These are the newest characters of mine! They were in a dream I had and I got attached to them. The ratgirl, Naomi, was a human who was spliced into a rat to be studied by some dipshit mad scientist with a complex, and the guy with auburn hair on the left is Brennan, the son of the scientist, who is being pressured by his father into being involved with the experiments. Clearly reluctant, Naomi opportunistically attempts to befriend Brennan in the hopes that he would help her escape down the line.

VERY silly story that isn't in line with my usual works, but these guys haunt me!

The oldest thing archived are the dog characters I drew in elementary school, but that's not really a story so I don't think they count. The oldest story I currently have on Toyhouse is probably Nightworld or Zombie Lane, both of which were made in 2012!

Zombie Lane is about Ivy Kohen, a little weirdo with no useful life skills, accidentally becoming the center of the world's most convoluted reverse-harem! Despite this premise I am still very fond of the entire cast, and I think it holds up!

Nightworld is about a young autistic girl getting isekai'd to another dimension and then getting microwaved by the background radiation of the universe as she grows up on an alien planet, with her three roommates - hotdog vendor scarecrow, a bird man, and a sentient cloud of space-time continuum contained in an orange turtleneck sweater!

Warrior Cats

YEAH SORRY I lied. I MEANT to repurpose it, temporarily did, and then hated that and put them back in Warrior Fan Clan territory! they will have their moment... eventually. I don't want to leave these characters behind in fanon forever!

[unknownjpegs]

delicate

“You look smaller outside the armor.” It’s the first thing Nomi says, and instantly regrets it as well. Her hand folds up over her mouth, eyes wide and shocked at the knight. But, well, they do. Dressed down, in plain tan trousers and a long sleeve white wool shirt. It’s open slightly at their throat, which proves more distracting than Nomi likes so her eyes skate down to their boots. Much safer there.

“I apologize—”

“No,” Jory raises their hand, drawing Nomi’s attention up toward their face again. They’re smiling, softly, brows gently pinched and they look so different. So approachable like this. But also, so…melancholic. Sometimes, Nomi wonders if anyone else sees that; or if they all avoid that aspect of them. They skate by the truth of their nature, because it’s easier—or because Jory is a knight, the Knight. Who bested the King’s favorite, who did not strike a final blow. Not now, though. No armor. Just trousers and a shirt. “If it’s a true statement, you shouldn’t apologize.”

“I meant to say—well, I meant, you just look—more—” She tries to get her words out with gestures, softly taking steps toward Jory. They’re in the courtyard. Flowers are blooming, lovingly tended by the lady Sunshine. The colors of them make Nomi’s eyes hurt—so many soft pastels of pinks and purples. She glances to the basket in her hands, realizes, she might be too used to red. Dark, mottled, browning red.

“I don’t know what I meant…”

She’d been thinking human, but that was so rude, even Nomi wouldn’t say it aloud.

The sunlight dapples across the courtyard, peeks through the trees and their leaves. It makes the fine reddish-gold of Jory’s hair almost look translucent. She remembers the first time meeting the knight, with their slightly wounded side. She’d found them regal then, mysterious. Something truly pulled from a story.

She continues forward until they’re close enough Nomi has to tilt her head up to look at them. She comes to their chin, or just under. Usually, when they’re taller, she hates that. Doesn’t like having that disadvantage—can usually smell them too, and it’s always awful. But, Jory’s collarbone, which shows slightly through their shirt, looks delicately fragile. Like a good smash from a sword hilt could break it—she’d seen wounds like that before.

And, well, they smell nice enough.

“Here,” she reaches into her basket and pulls something out, holding it aloft.

Both of them blink at the block of hard cheese in Nomi’s hand.

“Ah,” she says, as if that explains it at all. Then she clears her throat and gently puts it back into the basket. “I was wondering—” No. Start again. “Perhaps you would like—” Not like that either. Nomi squares her shoulders, draws in a large breath and firmly stares into those endlessly gray eyes. Like little storm clouds, morose with imminent rain. “Come with me to the lake. We’re going to have lunch there together.”

They blink. A slight glimpse down to the basket in Nomi’s arm before rising back up. Then, they offer her their arm. Not like a knight, but simply like a friend. And, Nomi thinks, you need one too, don’t you, Jory?

—

Two swans cut through the lake. Glide softly over its glassy surface, the ripples dying out before they reach the edge that Jory and Nomi sit at. The sun reflects over all that water, kicks up light and makes it a little hard for her to look at. Focuses on the bread in her hands as she rips off a piece.

“Fresh,” she comments. “Chef is—well. Name makes sense, yeah?” She uses a small parring knife to slice off a piece of the cheese and place it on the bread. Then she passes it over, and her and the knight slowly eat the bread and cheese together while the swans laze across the water. What Nomi wants to say is, you look like you don’t eat enough, but she’s insulted her new friend enough for one day.

Means it wholeheartedly though. They’re not slim, not in the way she is. And they have muscles—their biceps are thick in their shirt, fill it out well there, but it isn’t musculature that Nomi is thinking of. When she thinks, you’re not taking care of yourself, that’s what it means. She taps her piece of bread against her lips and looks at the swans and their lake. They scare her; big creatures, brutish with those wings, black eyes that look ominous. They’re meant to be beautiful, but for Nomi she just sort of sees a giant predator.

“Thank you,” Jory says. Her cheeks radiate suddenly with warmth that has nothing to do with the way the sun has started to angle to bear down on them. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks sideways. The sun does them well. Go out into it more, she thinks. Instead she reaches up and takes a curl of red-blond hair.

“Would you like me to shape up your hair for you, Ser?”

“What if I grew it out?”

“Make half the court ladies swoon with tha’, you would.”

Jory laughs, but its more of a release of air than anything else. Doesn’t have the same sound to it as she’s heard before, the same beautiful little note. You don’t want that attention, do you? Nomi thinks. Me neither. She toys with the blanket in the basket, looking at it. Wants to apologize, but it’ll be easier if she doesn’t. Instead, she pulls it away and turns to the knight.

She remembers, once, catching them on the stairs as they came up. Surrounded by cold stone that lead down to the prisoners cell. In the moment before Jory had looked up, their face had been tight. Had been concerned, laced with a worry they weren’t letting anyone else see; that they probably didn’t mean to let Nomi see either, because the second they lifted their chin and met her eyes, it was smoothed away. Masked into a neutral expression that would have scared her on anyone else.

Made her sad, looking down at this knight. Mighty, noble, enigmatic. The Knight who bested the best. Reduced to, well, this. Someone who stole into the prisoners quarters at night, to make sure Ser Graves—she skated right off the thought of that man. They’d passed each other in the stairs then, Nomi tucked close to the bricks and Jory avoiding her eye.

“I brought you this,” she says, pulling away the blanket. And tucked inside, underneath where she’d kept their lunch, was supplies. Rolls of bandages, a poultice in case the man had an infection, or might get one. A canteen of water, fresh and mixed with slices of fruit to give it a sweetness that might nourish. Nomi brushes her fingers over it. “For—For him. Well. For you, but for—” She breaks off then.

The silence between them stretches long. But not uncomfortably, as Jory takes the basket closer to themselves. Inspects slightly, with their long, slim fingers. Their mouth opens, as though they might object and Nomi swiftly pulls the blanket back over the basket and smiles at them. Through the fabric, her hands close over Jory’s; two of hers can close easily over the knight’s one. Just the blankets thin material between them.

“I stole it from Nick. He doesn’t pay me enough, you know,” she teases. Jory’s gray eyes wander her face enough to make her look down. “I don’t think—what you’re doing is not noble.” It sounds harsh, more than she meant for it to. But, she continues. “But I understand it. Because he means something to you—and isn’t that—well, it’s what makes us people, at the end of the day. I do not like men, Jory.” She squeezes her hands, feels those deft fingers move, turn up and their palms touch. The blanket still is there, obscuring their skin to skin contact.

“I only make the exception for Nick—and others, I suppose. But,” Nomi licks her lips and glances up, under her lashes. “It’s those exceptions, right? Little things we let slide past our battlements. Spies and all that, in our hearts, in the night. He means a great deal to you. And that’s sad, you know? It is,” she presses on, terrified, but unable to stop herself. Thinks, if Jory can withstand taking swords to their sides, they can hear the ugly, but also lovely, simplistic truth. “But, I admire you for it.”

“He has no one but me,” Jory replies. She slides her hands away and begins to stand. Leverages herself on her knees and slowly brings herself up. Even sitting, as they are, Jory is tall enough that Nomi doesn’t tower.

“Then he is a very lucky man, despite it all.”

She tries desperately to tuck dark blue locks of hair up underneath her bandanna, not realizing how much of it has fallen out. She glances around, back to the lake, to the swans, but they’ve left.

“I would like—” No. She pats her dress down. “I will visit you. In the tower. And you’ll teach me about,” she gestures up, into the mid afternoon sky. Clouds draw across the sky, fat and lazy and content. “I think I might be more suited for stars than whatever Nick is trying to teach me.”

The wind picks up a little, buffets them both and makes Jory’s high, pretty cheekbones look pink. They glance up at the sky that Nomi is indicating, and she can see that they love that sky, and what’s higher—that they look whats beyond it. Shame, that all that love, is also tied to a man underneath a castle, in a dungeon cell. Waiting for those bandages.

“I would love that, Nomi,” they reply and Nomi turns before either of them can say anything else. 

When she’s stepped far enough away, she dares look over her shoulder. See’s Jory leaned back on their elbows, still looking up at the sky. A long, pale slice over the green grass, looking lonesome and distant from others. When Jory’s head tilts to look at her, Nomi quickly looks away and continues. Little blue shadow on that green to find another place to hide for the day.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 16

*Warning Adult Content*

- Carlos -

Alejo is a few years younger than me, a few inches taller and has the hardened physique of someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley late at night.

He has closely shaved hair, unremarkable brown eyes and wears rings on his fingers and studs in his ears.

Under his clothes, he's covered in tattoos (I remember little of our night together but I remember that) and a scar bisects his left brow.

He tends bar at his dad's pub at night and works as a personal trainer in a gym during the day and I seem to remember him telling me he wanted to leave Spring Lakes, head for a big city, Chicago or New York and open his own club.

Other than that and the fact he's not great in bed, that's all I know about him.

As he sidles closer to me and snaps the tags off my shirt, however, I discover one more thing, he seems to be one of those unfortunate people born without the ability to take a hint.

As the service commences, I try to ignore him and listen to the priest talk about the afterlife and all that but it's hard to pay attention with Alejo whispering in my ear.

"Why you never text me back, bitch?" he whispers. "You leave me hanging like that."

I nod at the plain, unadorned urn resting atop a pedestal, waiting to be interred.

"I been busy. Little distracted, you know. How did you know Kyle, anyway?"

"Went to high school with him," Alejo says under his breath.

"I thought you said you were twenty-six?"

"I am. Kyle was a freshman and I repeated twelfth grade. Kinda lost touch when he went to juvie but we reconnected recently. He came by my dad's bar, begging for work."

"He did?"

Surprised, I fail to keep my voice down and draw several 'shushes' and angry stares.

As far as I knew, Kyle hadn't been a 'go-getter' and would have happily sat in his room, playing video games for the rest of his life if his aunt hadn't forced him to get a job and forced me to give him one.

As it was, he'd barely managed to hand me the right spanner when I asked and couldn't tell nuts from bolts.

Working in a fast-paced environment like a bar didn't seem like his style.

"Yeah," Alejo says, once everyone's attention is back on the priest, who's reciting a bunch of psalms. "He wanted night shifts. Earn some extra dough on the side. Seemed desperate to get out of this town. Or to get away from his creepy old aunt, anyway. Guess he got his wish."

Alejo laughs and I cast him a disparaging look.

"Have you talked to the police?"

"Huh?"

He blinks at me in surprise.

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

"Because it could be important. I didn't know Kyle needed money, more than usual, anyway. That could mean something."

Shrugging, Alejo finally gives his attention to the service.

"Who knows? He probably just wanted to impress some chick or something."

I let my mind wander for the next half hour, during which the priest somehow manages to make Kyle sound like an angel.

Sadly, it's probably the most nice words anyone's ever said about him and as far as I can tell, he's not around to hear it.

I come up with a few nice things to say about him, myself, expecting that the attendees will be invited to speak but once the priest concludes his eulogy, Kyle's aunt rises with the assistance of her nurse and hobbles away.

This clearly signals that the service is at an end and the rest of the guests follow suit.

Knowing Kyle's not listening anyway, I follow the pitifully small crowd back down towards the parking area.

The wake will be held at Lucille's house and I'm looking forward to the chance to observe the other guests in a more relaxed environment.

Nobody wants to speak their mind in front of a priest but get some finger food and few drinks in them and the tea starts to spill.

"You get a ride here?" Alejo asks, scanning the vehicles lined up in the lot.

I glance at the white sedan where Sergeant Nguyen sits drinking a cup of coffee and looking at something on his cell-phone.

"Uh... Yeah. I took an Uber. My truck's in the shop. Battery trouble."

Alejo laughs rudely.

"The mechanic has car trouble, now that's ironic."

I frown.

"You think doctors don't get sick? Or dentists don't get toothaches? Or..."

'Or that a kid born into a family of exorcists can't get possessed?'

I shake my head, wondering where that intrusive thought came from.

It almost didn't feel like mine, which isn't a good sign.

At the same time, a chill breeze rustles the leaves of the old maples standing guard over the parking lot and a trio of crows take flight from the lower branches of the nearest one, rowing the air with silent wings.

"You okay?" Alejo asks, inconveniently deciding to be perceptive, for once.

"Yeah, I'm fine. See you at the wake."

I start to walk away but Alejo catches my wrist and nods towards Nguyen's car.

"Hey, tell that guy to fuck off. I'll give you a ride for free."

He winks.

I barely restrain my expression and force myself to smile.

"Sure. Thanks, man."

I jog over to Nguyen's vehicle and knock on the window.

"You get all that?" I ask when he lowers it.

He gives me a thumbs up.

"All good. I'll follow and park down the street."

Waving as if to thank and dismiss him, I trot back towards Alejo, pasting on a grin that I hope doesn't look as much like a grimace as it feels.

"Thanks, man," I say as I follow him across the lot.

I stop in surprise as he unlocks a matte black Camaro ZL1, a car that retails for at least 70k, possibly much more, given the package.

He sees my expression and laughs.

"Don't worry, I didn't steal it. Get in."

I obey, admiring the black and crimson interior despite myself and noting how clean it is.

All else aside, Alejo knows how to take care of a car.

He shows off a little, accelerating out of the parking lot and taking turns hard enough to make me grip the handhold but I can't deny it's a little bit fun and thrilling.

I get the appeal, the call to go wild and be reckless, light the match and see what burns.

I get a little anxious when I realize we're off course 'taking the scenic route' would be putting it generously but Alejo seems to anticipate this and looks over at me with an easy grin.

"Relax, I just don't wanna piss off the old ladies. Besides, this gives me a chance to spend more time alone with you."

As he pulls up to a stoplight, drumming his fingers on the wheel to match the base throbbing from his premium sound system, I work up the courage to be honest.

"Um... Hey, you know, I uh, I had a good time with you. But the truth is, I met someone recently and..."

"What?"

He leans towards me, hand cupped to his ear.

"Say that again."

I swear under my breath and raise my voice.

"I just wanna be clear with you," I half shout. "I don't wanna lead you on."

He squints at me.

"Lead me where?"

I reach for the volume control on the dash but at the same time the light turns green and Alejo stomps on the gas, thrusting me back against my seat with the force of acceleration.

Giving up, I sit through the rest of the ride in silence.

Finally, he pulls to a screeching halt, parallel parking between two other cars with admirable precision, pops his door open and hops out.

I feel old just watching him and he's only three years younger than me.

Getting out as well, I follow him towards the old house and up the front steps.

The door is propped open, the guests gathered inside (notably greater in number than were present at the burial) and we join the assembly unnoticed.

Alejo heads straight for the buffet and open bar, while I attempt to infiltrate the crowd.

My forays are largely unsuccessful, however, as Mrs. Peters snubs me and I fail to make inroads with anyone else.

Finally, Alejo reappears at my side, drink in hand.

"Hey. This is depressing as fuck. You wanna get out of here? I'll take you for a real spin. Even let you drive, if you want."

Part of me stirs with interest at the offer.

Alejo is clearly immature in some ways, desperate in others, and dealing with his own world of shit.

We have that in common and if I can just get it through his thick head that I don't wanna fuck him, maybe we could even be friends.

In the meantime, Kyle's aunt is eyeing me with a murderous look that makes me really glad she's physically infirm.

I can't imagine how an old lady could have done to Kyle what happened to Kyle and yet there's something about Lucille I just don't like.

Not to mention the strangely sterilized state of Kyle's room, the way she barely seemed to care he was dead or the new info Alejo had given me about Kyle's desperate desire to get out of this place.

Struck by an idea, I decide I need to take one more look at Kyle's room.

He'd used a lot of energy trying to communicate with me but I hadn't seen a trace of him for almost a week.

Sometimes but not always, spirits have the most power shortly after death, when they still have strong connections to this world through their physical body.

Kyle's body was cremated, which, in most cases, would release all ties to this world and allow his spirit to transmigrate to another form or another realm, wherever the journey took him.

More rarely, a spirit stripped of power but unable or unwilling to leave this world, will retreat to the place to which they are most strongly bound.

In Kyle's case, that would be here.

"Okay," I say, giving Alejo a hopefully platonic smile. "Just give me a minute. I wanna check on something upstairs."

"Sure thing," he winks. "I'll grab you a drink."

Hoping he means something nonalcoholic, given his offer to let me drive, I make sure Lucille is distracted before I turn and trot upstairs.

Kyle's room is exactly as I saw it last, not a speck of dust in sight.

I sit on his bed, the cheap mattress and frame creaking beneath my weight and take a breath, opening myself to the other side as much as I dare.

"Hey, Kyle. If you're here, I'm here to listen. I am so sorry for what happened to you and I want to help. So, help me to help you, okay? Gimme a sign or some shit."

I wait but no sign is forthcoming.

The room remains cold and empty and I don't even feel a hint of a presence.

I've been in fast food joints with a spookier vibe than this, which is weird, given the overall 'Haunted Mansion' look of the house.

Giving up, I rise and make one more attempt.

"Kyle... Look, man. I know we weren't friends. We barely knew each other. I was your boss and I wasn't that great of one. But you came to me for a reason, right? Because you know I can see you. So... talk to me. It was your aunt, wasn't it? Somehow, she's behind this. Just give me something to go on, okay?"

I wait again but nothing happens.

The gauzy blue curtains framing the window remain unruffled by any inexplicable breeze and the temperature in the room remains stable.

I even risk a glance at the mirror on the back of the door and find only my own dark-eyed reflection staring back at me.

Sighing, I cross to the door, take one more look at the room and step into the hall.

It's not until I reach the top of the stairs that I feel the change.

The air drops from 'uncomfortably warm old-person house' to 'outdoors in the Siberian winter' in the space of one breath.

That's a lot of heat energy and as I turn and find myself face to face with an angry-looking Kyle, I understand he's taken everything he can get to manifest.

"Kyle? Whoa..." I raise my hands. "Hey, I'm here to help you, bud. I'm not..."

"GET OUT."

The words are less heard than felt, almost like a seismic shock or a rumble below the range of human hearing.

I stare into Kyle's black-hole eyes as, with a rush of arctic wind, he pushes me so hard I find myself hanging in thin air.

Then, as gravity demands, I fall and tumble down the stairs.

[maglors-anion-gap]

15, 22, 32

-@outofangband

[from this ask game]

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

In the technical sense, I outline smut scenes the way I outline most scenes: I start with my brainstorm outline, which is very basic physical blocking, very plain subject verb object style.  Then I add emotional indicators.  Then I add dialogue.  Then I go back and edit for all of the good and juicy bits, figurative or otherwise evocative language etc.  I workshop the grammar a little bit, vary things up a bit.  I like to pick an author to ape, see how close I can get to their pastiche.  You've read it already ;) but my MSV fic is coming out tomorrow and I tried to mimic cormac mccarthy (all the pretty horses) - I don't think I super succeeded, but it was a fun exercise and I like what I produced. 

I'm getting better at being detailed.  In general I have an issue writing anything lengthy, but as I get more comfortable with writing I get more comfortable with this too.  And I have a certain amount of stylistic liberty with fic that I wouldn't have with original fiction because fan communities are pretty chill about viewing erotica as a valid means for communicating themes.  I'm not a big fan of erotica that is very physical/visual to the point that it's not detailed in other ways?  I'm very big on, like, the atmosphere and character introspection, openness or reticence between characters, what is communicated between the character and reader, or narrator and reader.  I like to include those sorts of details, and physical details that are metaphorical or fantastical.  I spent a lot of time thinking about horses during the aforementioned MSV fic, and wildness and skittishness and beauty like that, the equine and the erotic etc etc.

Paradoxically, I like to be realistic but I love to write things that aren't realistic.  Like, there's a certain amount of eroticism to the fantastical and the unachievable, you know?  People don't have inflation kinks because they think it's attainable, it's just hot (to them, ig). I kind of just expect people to go into the scene with good faith like "is this hot? then it's good." Tiresomely picking apart the realism of a scene is boring to me and annoying.  Don't yuck other people's yum.  Otoh I definitely draw from real life; one of the best things I read recently was a treatise on gay sex written by a gay guy who likes reading gay fanfiction.  It was kind of validating to hear him say "no you don't need three fingers... or any fingers... I don't know where people got this idea," because I was like "gotta include the fingers, or people will accuse me of being a Fake Gay Guy and an Irresponsible Fetishist" (people love saying this about trans men online) - when like.  yeah ymmv but many ppl really don't need the fingers.

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Hmm so I really hate the hard and fast "you should never do X" rules.  The general rule I operate on is that anything is valid if you can do it really really well.  Make that rule your bitch. I just don't labor under the delusion that I'm good at everything, and because this is a fannish pursuit of mine I don't spend energy honing the styles that I don't enjoy all that much.  So that said, I don't do first person POV.  I dislike writing first person POV for the same reason I don't enjoy reading first person POV or reader insert fic - I don't want to be in the story, I am not there, I am a voyeur.  Is this dysphoria? Is this a desire to dissociate (?) completely into the character themself?  Sure.  I don't write second person, but as much as some people hate it, this is actually less off-putting to me than first person, and there are a couple writers who have successfully broken the mold and done the impossible - really good second person pov fic.  Maybe I like it better because it has the same vibe as those narrator monologues from the Iliad or Shakespear - "speak, oh muse…" etc etc.  I'm not sure why.  It's the "being ordered around" of it all - it's your POV but it's being dictated to you, you're being steered around by the narrative, you're a puppet not a person (no, don't do anything freudian with that, aha). I won't say there's a trope I won't do, but I'm not a fan of high school, and I rarely do modern AUs.  I'm very confused why fanfiction.net had a special genre tag for "westerns." 

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

You know this is a really difficult question, right?  And there are zero right answers?  There are less fraught questions posed by mothers in law. (ily)

Actually, you're one of them! You have no idea how often I refer back to your ecology master lists!  You really occupy this niche that no one else is; no one is doing the secondborn-posting like you are! except maybe user Elwing, so I'm gonna say the two of you are tied for "my favorite secondborn writers in the fandom." 

Something really cool I saw recently was in a fic Skyeventide wrote, using a ton of footnotes? It was like, part fic, part research paper, there were notes all over the place explaining linguistic etymology and settings and stuff like it was an in-world text? I'm probably not remembering this quite right, and this is not really sounding super flattering, I promise that it is.  I love that sort of style and it was really cool to read because my favorite thing is to read annotated books (shakespear, jane eyre, translations of non-english texts) where I can flip back and forth and read the commentary and exposition as I go through the book.  What is lost in the translation, or changed in the translation, or what is unique about this idiom and what can we learn from that, what are the double meanings, what is the impact on the tone, etc etc.  There was just a lot of effort put into it and it was really cool.  Also, separate fic (i think), convinced me that eol and curufin hooked up once and yes. i'll integrate that into my worldview.

person number three is i-am-a-lonely-visitor because no one else is doing trans porn, trans tears, and trans love like i-a-a-l-v.  Singlehandedly gotten me on the trans man celebrian bandwagon. singing your praises kissing your feet etc etc. 

[moonlit-jeno]

red door, yellow door (m.)

pairing: mark lee x fem reader x jung jaehyun

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | demon au | slight dubcon??? the mans a lust demon idk | Very mild horror themes | minor mlm | don’t attempt this game pls !!!

words: 8.1k

a/n: this is a repost from my old bts blog! pls don’t ask abt it bc i no longer actively follow bts :)

One of these days, you’re going to kill your coworkers.

You love them, you really do, but sometimes they can just be so dumb. It was Donghyuck and Renjun who came up with the idea to play this stupid game, one that is probably only played by naive 12 year old girls during slumber parties.

Normally you’d just brush it off, but Renjun had called you a wimp, so naturally you had to do it. Which is how you’ve ended up on your back with your best friend massaging circles into your forehead.

“Red door, yellow door, any other color door,” is being chanted around the room. You fight the urge to move your neck to a more comfortable position on Mark’s lap. Your hand twitches above your head, where your arms are raised. “This is stupid,” You whisper, and Mark laughs, scolding you lightly.

After a while, the mindless chanting lulls you to sleep, and you feel yourself drift off.

“What do you see?”

Two doors appear in front of you, one red and one yellow. They both look kind of old, paint chipping and peeling off.

“Anything else?”

A black door appears next to the yellow one and you find yourself drawn to it, wanting to go in. This one is shinier, considerable newer and more inviting compared to the other two

“Go in.”

You open the door and walk through, a sense of relief flooding through your senses as you give in to the pull. The room that you find yourself in seems never ending, the only thing in it a large bed.

“Do you see anyone?”

A man appears, sitting on the bed. The suit he’s wearing is unfitting for the plain surroundings- in fact, he’s unfitting for the surroundings in general. His teeth are blinding white when he smiles, not a hair out of place on his entire head. He’s attractive, all golden skin and beautiful features. Almost too beautiful. A shiver crawls up your spine, a tinge of discomfort bleeding into your senses. He smiles, dimples popping out, and you push the discomfort to the back of your mind.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out distant to your own ears, echoing around you.

“Call me Jaehyun. Why don’t you come here, little bird? We can get properly acquainted.” The voice sounds haunting, like a distorted video. You wouldn’t believe that he’s speaking if his lips didn’t move in sync. Despite the unnatural voice sounding warning bells in your brain, you find yourself moving forward automatically and settling down on his lap when he pats his thigh for emphasis.

“And what’s your name, little bird?” He trails a hand up and down your thigh and you shiver, leaning back against him. He chuckles when you tell him your name, a pleased smile lighting up his features.

“Well, little bird, seems that we’re going to have some fun together.”

Your name is being echoed all around you, and you wake with a jolt, eyes flying open to see Mark staring at you.

“Are you okay?” The rest of your group is also gathered around you, standing in a half circle.

“Yeah, just fell asleep for a bit. Why?” You push yourself onto your elbows, sitting up so that you can lean against Mark.

Donghyuck plops down on the floor, sitting so that he’s facing you. “You were talking like you were having a conversation with someone. Who was it?”

You shrug, trying not to dull his excitement. “I don’t know, just some guy.”

“Was he wearing a suit?” Renjun asks, standing behind Hyuck. He grimaces when you nod. “Y/n, we literally told you not to talk to anyone in a suit. We told you not to talk to anyone. It’s in the rules.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how serious he gets when it comes to stuff like this. “Relax, it’s fine. He seemed nice, and it’s not like it was anything real.”

Renjun still doesn’t look convinced, but Mark interrupts his paranoia by doing what he’s best- or worst, depending on who you ask- at, cracking jokes.

“Hey, was he eating deviled eggs?” He laughs at his own joke, and everyone else groans. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. His place was probably such a hellhole.” The bad mood dissolves into jokes and loud laughter for the rest of the night.

You leave the party- or gathering as Donghyuck had called it because it sounded more mysterious- when it starts storming. The rain drenches you and pretty much everyone else that’s sitting on the porch, leaving you scrambling for shelter. Luckily, Mark offers you a ride.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Mark hollars out the window of his truck, his words getting lost in the night as he speeds off. His truck hits a pothole and you can imagine him swearing as his head hits the roof. Giggling to yourself, you unlock your apartment and slip inside. It’s close to 2 in the morning, so you decide that if you’re already not going to get that much sleep, why not binge Shameless?

You only get through two episodes before your eyelids feel heavy, and you have to fight to keep them open. On screen, there’s a bar fight that you try to take interest in, but sleep quickly pulls you under.

“Welcome back, little bird.” The voice is all around you, but no matter how much you turn and search, no one’s to be found.

“Turn around, little bird, I am here.” Spinning abruptly, you come face to face with the man from earlier, Jaehyun. He gives you a chilling grin.

“So we meet again,” he starts, and his voice no longer sounds eerie or inauthentic. He sounds like, well, a normal man. “Tell me, what would you do if I were to kiss you?”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips on instinct. “Depends. Are you a good kisser?” You aim for coy, but you miss the mark and land closer to worried.

“You could say that.” He pulls you close with one hand on the back of your head, stopping right before your lips. “May I?”

You nod, and he pulls you in for a gentle, closed mouth kiss.

It’s like that touch ignites a fire in you, because before you know it, your arms are thrown around his neck, dragging him closer to deepen the kiss. You lick along his lower lip and he readily grants you access, a throaty groan leaving him when you suck on his tongue. Liquid heat courses through your veins when he nips at your lower lip, tongue flicking over it in apology. You moan, raw and needy. He likes that, if the chuckle and wicked grin is anything to go by. Picking you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, he walks over to a bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

He drops you on the bed, and then suddenly you’re both naked. Jaehyun leans over you, all lean muscles and golden skin. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his legs, and you have the urge to swallow him down. He groans, as if reading your mind, and then reaches to pump himself slowly, long fingers wrapped around the length. “Not now, little bird, not now. I have something else in mind.” With one gentle push to your shoulders, you’re lying flat on the bed, Jaehyun between your legs. His mouth hovers over your core, already wet and dripping despite not having been touched. He plays idly with the slick on your upper thigh, drawing random patterns into the flesh. His eyes are dark, and you could swear that they’re entirely black, no white visible. He peers curiously up at you from between your legs, watching your reaction as his fingers get closer and closer to where you want him. Your breathing picks up as arousal thrums through your body, center pulsing and aching for some sort of relief.

“May I have you?” His breath ghosts over your center when you speak, the sensation making you even needier. 

You nod quickly. “Take it, fuck, you have all of me.” He grins, wasting no time in diving in. His tongue feels impossibly good, licking up your folds and circling over your clit. He leaves sloppy kisses along your core, one hand massaging your thigh and keeping you spread open. You cry out when his tongue pushes into you, his nose brushing your clit and sending sparks up your spine.

His tongue feels impossibly long, so good inside of you that you feel like you’re losing your mind. Your hips buck up desperately, riding his face to hell and back. One arm gets thrown over your stomach to keep you in place while two fingers from his free hand dip into your soaking core, curling into that spot immediately. Stars flash behind your eyes, one hand coming down to fist in Jaehyun’s hair. Your feet scramble frantically along his back, heels digging in in an effort to anchor yourself, toes curling at the sensations singing through you.

You feel your orgasm drawing closer, heat pooling in your center. You whimper brokenly as you try to chase after your high, grinding your hips along his tongue. He lets you, just holding his tongue flat out for you to ride.

You come like that, falling apart on his tongue, screams of his name falling from your lips. He works you through it, tongue gently licking along your folds, slurping up your arousal as if he hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

You lay there, boneless and whimpering weakly through the aftershocks until Jaehyun pulls away to kiss up your body. He licks into your mouth hotly, reminding you that he hasn’t come yet. You bat weakly at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “Your turn,”

He groans in appreciation at the view of you above him. “So perfect, little bird. I’m gonna have so much fun with your soul.”

This sentence freezes you in your spot. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Jaehyun meets your gaze, black eyes entrancing you. “That means, y/n, that I’m going to have your soul. You belong to me now, hmm?” One of his hands plays gently with a strand of your hair. “That’s what you agreed to earlier, no?”

“N-no.” You try backing away, but the inhuman voice from earlier is back, echoing everywhere, repeating his words over and over until you can’t take it anymore-

You wake with a gasp, hitting your head as you sit up. Your computer is still on your lap, episode fifteen playing. Fuck, you’ve only been asleep for forty five minutes. It’s not even three yet, and you don’t have to go to work until eight. Deciding there’s no way you’re falling back asleep, you get up and decide to bake.

Five hours later, your coworkers love you when you show up with containers of cinnamon rolls, five different types of cookies, and a coffee cake. Mark looks mildly worried.

“You okay? I haven’t seen you bake since high school.” You snap out of your thoughts and turn to face Mark. The look of concern on your best friend’s face is enough to make you feel guilty and you nod, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had a bad dream last night and couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” You respond, trying not to show how bothered you actually are.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark leans forward over his desk, chin planted on his hand.

“No, it’s gonna sound dumb.” You whine, shaking your head. And it is dumb, even to you. You’re scared because you had a dream that some man ate you out and then told you he was going to take your soul?

“Well, you always sound dumb. Of course your dreams are gonna be dumb.” Mark laughs as you chuck a piece of cake at him, infectious laugh soothing you. You sigh.

Mark raises his eyebrows at you when you finish telling him your dream. “You’re scared because you had a wet dream? Damn, I’d be living in a nightmare if I was scared after every wet dream I’ve had.”

You kick him under the table. “Mark! It was really scary. He told me he was going to take my soul!”

Upon seeing that you’re actually freaked out, his face softens. “Look, y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You probably just thought that he was hot, and your brain remembered his face and put it in a dream. I wouldn’t worry about it; what’s the worst he’s gonna do, haunt you?”

You give a shaky nod, agreeing. It’s not like something from your dreams could actually harm you. Mark reaches across the desk, taking your hand in his and giving a tight squeeze, warm brown eyes gazing at you openly. “And if something does happen, just remember that I’m your best friend. I’ll be here for you.”

“Thanks, Mark. Means a lot to me.”

He leans back in his seat. “Anytime, anyplace, anything. Triple A.”

You smile, raising an eyebrow. “Anything?”

His eyes go wide, taking in the glint in your eyes. “Within reason.”

“How about a sip of coffee?” You nod down at his cup, pasting a huge smile on your face.

“I did say within reason, so no.”

You huff. “I expected that.”

Although you don’t scare easily, it’s safe to say that you’re a bit unsettled tonight, especially after your nightmare last night. You find yourself jumping at every little noise, hand slamming the light switch on with your pulse racing every five minutes. This has been going on for an hour, and after a final sweep of your room reveals nothing, you decide that maybe a face mask will help you relax.

Your bathroom has two mirrors facing each other, which is normally a blessing when you do your hair, but tonight it does nothing but make you want to hide under your blankets.

Get a grip on yourself, you chastise, grabbing your phone and opening spotify. Maybe some music will help? You click on your Christmas playlist because what better way to cheer up than to think about your favorite holiday?

A mistake, really, because it seems that you’ve forgotten how creepy Santa is.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” Yikes. You stop that song in a hurry, feeling anything but comforted. No music then, noted.

You reach for your face wash, turning the sink on and waiting for the water to warm. You can’t help but glance in the mirror behind you every so often, paranoia getting the best of you. Man, you feel pathetic, worrying about monsters in your closet like you’re six and not twenty-six.

You wash your face quickly, hoping that your fears will wash away as well. No such luck.

You swear you see something move behind you after you dry your face off, but there’s nothing there. Shaking it off, you reach for your face mask, taking your time painting your face with the green clay.

It’s after your face is coated that you spot someone in the glass behind you. You scream, whipping around to come face to face with a man. Not just any man- Jaehyun.

Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes widening in fear. He seems to be in the mirror, copying your petrified expression mockingly.

“Hello, little bird.” He purrs, smirking lightly.

“Are you- are you in my mirror?” You’re in disbelief, mind struggling to comprehend this. First you spot him while in a weird trance, then in a dream, and now in your mirror? Maybe you’re having a quarter life crisis.

“No, I am not. Mirrors are just gateways to alternate dimensions. I’m merely using the mirror to visit you.” He says this like it’s common knowledge. It feels like your throat is made of sandpaper with how hard it is to choke out your words. “O-okay. I’m just gonna- yeah.”

You grab your phone from the counter and bolt, fumbling for your keys before jumping into your car and speeding off in the direction of Mark’s house. You call him, fingers fumbling on the screen. He goes to voicemail the first time, and your heart drops. “No, no, no,” you whisper frantically, calling again. He does pick up this time.

“Y/n? It’s the middle of the night.” His voice sounds gruff, and you feel guilty for waking him up. One glance in your rear view mirror reveals that Jaehyun is joining you on this ride, and you scream, car swerving violently to one side before you straighten it out.

“Where are we going, little bird?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Mark’s voice has lost its sleepy edge, taking on a concerned tone. He says your name again, more frantic.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Your tires squeal as you make a turn, now only two blocks away. “Can I- can I come over? I really need to be with someone right now.”

“Of course, you know you’re always welcome. The door’s unlocked.”

You hang up, willing the tears in your eyes to not spill over. Finally arriving, you slam on the breaks and haphazardly pull next to a curb, yanking the key out of the ignition and sprinting to Mark’s house.

You lock the door behind you when you step inside, testing the handle as if a door could stop a mirror traveling demon or whatever the fuck Jaehyun was from coming inside. “Mirrors,” you mumble, reaching the stairs.

“Y/n? What’s-” Mark stands at the top of the stairs, one hand rubbing at his eyes. You cut him off, flying up the stairs.

“Mirrors, fuck. Mark, we need to cover the mirrors!” You breeze by his shocked figure, not noticing the way he turns to stare at you incredulously.

“What, why? Y/n, are you crazy?”

Ignoring him, you throw a towel over the mirror in his bathroom, ripping open a pack of bandaids to use as adhesive.

You throw another towel over the mirror in his bedroom, collapsing on his bed when you’re done and finally allowing yourself to sob.

“Y/n, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” Mark, as gentle and caring as ever, comes over to sit next to you, one hand combing through your hair.

“I- don’t laugh at me.” You stare him straight in the eye, pleading with him. You know you’re going to sound crazy, but you’re praying that your best friend listens to you. He nods, urging you to go on.

“That- that man I saw in my dream and during whatever fucked up game Hyuck had us play? He was in my fucking mirror, Mark. I- the whole night, I had this feeling that I was being watched, and then I went into my bathroom and he was just there, and-” You’re hyperventilating at this point, fighting for every breath, tears clouding your vision. “He was in my car, in the rear view mirror-” Mark pulls you closer, enveloping you in his arms and allowing you to sob loudly into his chest. You cry for a few minutes, until you’re finally able to pull yourself together.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’ve had a rough week, I know. It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

He wipes a tear away from your check, patting you lightly. “Why don’t you go wash this off, okay? We can watch a movie after.” He offers, and until that point, you’d forgotten you were wearing a face mask. You grimace at the green imprint on his black shirt, but he just chuckles. “I’ll go grab you some water in the meantime.”

Nodding, you garner up the energy to walk to his bathroom. It’s fine, the mirror’s covered, he can’t hurt you. You close the door just in case, wanting an extra level of protection

You rinse your face with cold water, hoping that it will clear your mind. You give your face a couple more splashes before drying off with a towel.

“You missed a spot on your forehead.” You freeze before looking around wildly. There’s no one around, which can only mean that Jaehyun can still see you. Swallowing, you start the water again, rubbing at your forehead.

“And your left cheek.” You rub at the skin, being way too harsh but you excuse it considering your situation. “No, your other left. My left.”

“Jesus,” You growl in annoyance, reaching up to rip the towel down. Sure enough, there’s a splotch of green on your cheek. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I am losing my mind.

You finish rinsing the mask off, finding some face lotion buried in Mark’s drawer, screaming bloody murder when Jaehyun appears in the mirror again. “Looking for me?”

“No! Leave me alone!” You cry, head spinning. Jaehyun fakes a pout, holding a hand over his heart in mock hurt. Do demons even have hearts?

“Ouch, little bird. You don’t want to finish what we started the other night? When I had you moaning so pretty, so wet for me. I’m sure your pussy would take me so well, hmm?” Your heart rate kicks up again, but for a different reason this time. You almost moan, thinking about the dream.

Because he was right, you had been so wet. The want comes back full forces, slamming into you like a truck. You remember how needy you were, wanting to suck his cock so bad, wanting him to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. All fear that you previously had is slowly disappearing, fading into lust.

The demon smiles knowingly. “Ah, little bird, so you do remember. Remember how you promised me that you’re mine?”

You nod, eyes glazing over. You’re wet, panties starting to stick to your throbbing core uncomfortably.

“Mmmh, I bet you’re already dripping for me. Just waiting for me to come out and fill you up.”

Hearing your name leave his lips sends a wave of arousal crashing through you so strong that your knees buckle, grabbing onto the counter for support. He chuckles, but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Mark.

“What were you say-” Your best friend trails off, eyes wide as he observes the scene. You snap out of your haze at the interruption. His mouth parts in shock. “You really weren’t kidding, shit.” He laughs humorlessly.

Then, quick as lightning, he rears back and punches the mirror. You scream in surprise at the crack, shards falling to the floor.

You and Mark both stare at the broken shards of glass on the ground, gleaming under the lights. “Mark,” You start, trailing off once you realize you have nothing to say. He seems to understand, walking forward until he’s close enough to pull you into a hug. You feel tears start to slide down your cheeks, dampening the cotton of your best friends shirt. You hug him closer, burying your face into his broad chest. He wraps himself around you, and you let yourself be lulled into the sense of security that his larger frame brings you. A sense of security that vanishes once you hear a low chuckle that definitely does not belong to Mark.

You both scream, leaping backwards and away from the noise. Jaehyun stands there, just in front of the door, with a shit eating grin on his face. You cower behind Mark, who is wrapping a protective arm around you while simultaneously trying to hide behind you.

“I really must thank you for finally setting me free. Normally I have to wait for some asshole with a ouija board, but then there’s just so many other demons that I have to compete with. So I just stick to the dream world-” He pauses to wink at you for emphasis “-but this is so much more fun.” His eyes are black, and you can’t tell where he’s looking. Swallowing, you clutch onto Mark’s arm for dear life.

The demon seems to regard the two of you for a moment, before his amusement seems to grow. He begins to move forward.

“Ah, Mark Lee. Lovely name for a stupid boy. Didn’t you know breaking a mirror is bad luck?” By this point, you and Mark are flattened against the wall, while Jaehyun stands less than a foot away from the two of you. There’s nowhere to run. This is it, you think, this is how I die.

Jaehyun chuckles, turning to you. You lower your gaze to the ground; it hurts to make eye contact with him. “No, little bird. This isn’t how you die, don’t worry.”

Then he’s backing away from the two of you, motioning to follow him. The logical part of your brain is screaming not to, but you find yourself drawn to him, legs carrying you after him without your consent, Mark clutching your arm tightly as he walks next to you.

Jaehyun seems to know the layout of the house, leading you straight into Mark’s bedroom. The demon grabs a chair from the desk and spins it around, straddling it so that he’s facing the bed.

He motions lazily. “Go on now, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

You find yourself sitting down on the edge of the bed, following his words like marching orders. Mark sits about half a foot away from you. Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I said to get comfortable, did I not?” He raises an eyebrow as if daring you to argue with him. “Go lay down at the head board.”

You crawl to the head of the bed, settling so that you’re on your side, facing the demon. Mark follows suit, pulling you close to him so that you’re spooning. Jaehyun lets out a pleased hum. “Much better. Aren’t you much more comfortable now?” Nodding, you realize that you actually are more comfortable. It’s not just the change of position, but the energy in the room as well. The demon is no longer giving off a threatening aura. It’s more relaxed, maybe even happy? He certainly looks more relaxed, probably as happy as a demon can get, if not a little smug.

Your body is pulsing with energy, and it takes you a moment to place what you’re feeling. The earlier need to run that you had felt has been replaced with another need, albeit further down. Your thighs clench as another surge of heat pulses through your core, and your face warms at the realization. Why now, of all times, are you horny?

Jaehyun’s grin broadens as he seems to sense your dilemma. “Oh, little bird, if only you knew. Tell me, what type of demon do you think I am?” He watches you curiously, black eyes staring into your soul.

You try to tilt your head towards Mark, but the position’s too awkward and you only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He looks a bit flushed from what you can see, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip, teeth that you could easily replace with your own- you blink, dazedly. What the fuck? Sexual thoughts about your best friend? That’s a new one. Even if you’ve noticed that he’s hot, you’d never thought about him sexually. Now, though, you can feel the hardness of his dick against your ass, and you can’t help but think about how good he could fuck you.

“Incubus,” You finally manage, blinking rapidly to clear the haze of your vision. Jaehyun grins, looking genuinely surprised that you’d gotten it right.

“Good girl. Make a little sense now?” You nod, fighting a moan as Mark starts to rock against you, slowly, as if he’s unconsciously doing it. Jaehyun notices.

“How about you, Mark? You doing alright over there?”

Your friend, your best friend, buries his face in your neck and groans, deep and delicious. It sends another surge of heat through your body, the growing need between your legs pulsing pathetically. “What are you doing to us?” The words are growled behind you, vibrating against the skin where his lips are pressed.

“Oh no, Mark, I’m not doing anything to you. The only thing I can do to you is make you realize your desires. Your deepest, darkest fantasies? I make that happen. Finally being able to fuck the girl you’ve been in love with for years? I make that happen.” The words take a minute to register with you, but you stiffen when the meaning hits you. Mark Lee, in love with you? An unlikely story, bordering impossible.

The demon chuckles at your inner turmoil, rolling his eyes at how dumb humans can be. “You too, y/n. You love Mark, even if you won’t admit it. You let the idea that he was too good for you scare you away from him. Do you not remember how often you thought of him, late at night after first meeting him?”

You groan in protest, not because it’s not true, but because you do remember. It had been so long ago. When you hadn’t known Mark, had only known of him. You pull away from Mark, awkwardly pushing him to lay flat against the pillows while you clamber on top of him.

“Mark, is it true? Do you love me?” You hold his face between your hands, staring into his eyes. He meets your gaze, pupils blown and eyes half lidded. He nods as best he can.

“So, so much.” Mark’s voice comes out raspy, matching his flushed skin. You lean down to kiss him, uncaring of the other presence in the room. Mark moans when your lips make contact, hands pulling you to straddle him. Your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his clothed cock against your center, rocking your hips to try to ease the throb of your core. His hands fly to your ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh as he urges you into a harsher pace.

The kiss is rougher, needier now, open mouthed and panting. Mark’s got his tongue tangled with yours, sucking in such a way that sends waves of heat through you. You want him in you, any part of him really.

Jaehyun seems to agree, speaking up from right next to you. You jump, having forgotten he was there although he’s the reason you’re like this in the first place.

“Let’s get the show on the road. As much as I’m enjoying this, I think we’d all enjoy something else a little more.” The demon reaches for the hem of your shirt and you nod, raising your arms above your head to let him pull the garment off. Mark groans at the newly revealed skin, hands going to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra. “Fuck,” He whines, staring in awe at your chest. He doesn’t waste time before leaning up to kiss along your cleavage, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts. Another set of hands unclasp the bra before traveling down your torso to rub circles into your hip bones, sliding your sleeping shorts and panties off at the same time. Jaehyun throws the shorts somewhere off the bed. He keeps the panties, a pleased sigh leaving him as he appreciates the ruined fabric.

“Fuck, little bird. You’re really enjoying this,” He comments, as if he isn’t a fucking lust demon that can sense these kinds of things. You don’t voice your thoughts, because Mark chooses this moment to suck a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin so that all you can do is moan. “You’ve even ruined your panties. They’re soaked.”

He hands the strip of lace to Mark, who lets out a throaty groan at the sight. “You’re not getting these back.” He informs you, slipping the garment into his bedside drawer. You ignore him, instead tugging insistently at his shirt. He takes pity on you, grabbing the collar and yanking the baggy tee over his head.

You let your hands slide down his chest in admiration, feeling the hard lines of his muscles. You lick your lips at how broad his shoulders are, how strong he looks. Jaehyun doesn’t give you much time to enjoy the view, gliding two fingers along your slit before circling around your little nub. A cry of pleasure leaves you to mindlessly press your face into Mark’s collarbone, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re sure you’ve left a bruise.

Jaehyun slips the two fingers into your aching core, curling and dragging them so well along your walls. Sparks of electricity flow through your veins, heat pooling in your center.

Mark groans from below you. Looking down, you see that you’ve unconsciously dug your nails into his hard chest in an effort to ground yourself. You remove your hands, only to spot little red half crescents littered over his skin. You rub your palms over the marks as if to soothe them, but it seems that the man wasn’t groaning from pain.

“Y/n” He sounds so fucked out, voice hoarse and raw even though hardly anything has happened yet. “You look so good like this, so perfect for me.” He brings one large hand up to cup your cheek, thumb delicately stroking over your cheekbone before moving down to trace your lower lip. You part your lips, letting him slide in before sucking around the digit, tongue curling around it as if it were his cock. His eyes darken a fraction, tongue coming out to wet his lips, swollen and kiss bitten.

You moan around the digit as Jaehyun adds a third finger, stretching your walls so pleasantly that you can’t help but buck your hips back for more. A whine forces its way out of your throat as the demon pulls his fingers out of you, leaving an empty ache between your thighs.

“Don’t you think it would be more fun if she was sucking on something a bit bigger than your finger, Mark?” The voice startles you, breath tickling your ear as he speaks. The man under you nods, swallowing thickly. Your eyes are drawn to the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the movement, and a gush of wetness pulses down below. Your thighs are probably covered in your arousal at this point.

You scoot down his body, trailing kisses and bites down his toned stomach. You take your time unzipping his pants, sucking a mark into the soft skin below his navel. He’s hard as a rock, and you moan in appreciation at the sheer size of him once you shimmy his jeans down his thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask, mouth curling up in a teasing smirk. He huffs out a laugh, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can watch. “No, ‘s too restricting.”

You lazily pump his dick, thumb flicking over the tip once or twice. You plan to tease him more, but then Jaehyun’s pushing your head down and you have no choice but to open your mouth wide, innocent eyes peeking up at Mark as you take his cock in your mouth. He’s so big that you can’t take him in all the way, keeping one hand curled around his cock to stroke what your mouth can’t reach. You let it get sloppy, using your spit to ease the glide until you’ve got a pleasant rhythm going. Mark replaces Jaehyun’s hands with his own, gathering strands of your hair in his palms and using that grip to control your pace. “F-fuck,” He lets out a shaky exhale, letting his head fall back against the pillows once he’s satisfied with the pace.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, a loud smack sounding throughout the room. You moan, pitching forward onto Mark’s cock and gagging as he hits the back of your throat. A strangled cry leaves the man above you, his hips thrusting even further into the tight, wet heat of your mouth.

The demon kneads your stinging flesh before using his grip on you to pull your hips up. “Good girl,” You keen under his praises, sticking your ass up even higher. The warm, wet pressure against your center has you faltering, moaning almost violently around Mark’s cock. He doesn’t seem to be having any complaints, the vibrations forcing a moan of his own out.

Your eyes roll up into your head as Jaehyun wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You’re sure you’d be screaming by now if Mark’s cock wasn’t halfway down your throat. You’ve given up sucking him off by this point, content to let the man fuck your mouth while Jaehyun sucks your fucking soul out from between your legs. It feels so good, not used to being the center of even one man’s focus, let alone two.

Mark eases you off of his cock after you accidentally bite him, using your spit to ease the slide as he lazily fucks up into his loose fist. You rest your head on his thigh, alternating between moaning wantonly and mouthing messily against the skin as you feel your orgasm approach.

Jaehyun pulls away at the last second, and you whine loudly as your orgasm is cut off. The feeling of frustration leaves you close to tears, and you jiggle your ass in hopes that it will regain his attention. It does momentarily, as Jaehyun lands a harsh smack on the flesh, but he pulls away again.

“Mark,” The man in question looks up, hand freezing on his dick as if waiting for Jaehyun’s orders. And fuck, what a sight that would be: your normally brash and confident friend being so pliant and submissive to a near stranger… You blink out of it, feeling mildly ashamed even in your current state. Luckily, Jaehyun interrupts your thoughts. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go first. You’ve been waiting long enough for this, anyway.”

Mark nods eagerly, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You paw at every inch of skin you can reach, searching for a release from the ache inside of you. Your wish is granted when he hooks two fingers in your soaking cunt, groaning at how wet you are. He scissors you open quickly, hissing at how tight you feel.

“Ready, angel? Want my cock?” The pet name has you moaning, though it draws a low chuckle from Jaehyun, who’s watching from his position next to Mark.

“Hurry up, already. Need you in me, ‘ve waited so long.”

Mark lights up at this, smile stretching his features. He looks so breathtaking in this moment, skin glowing and flushed, hair mussed up, eyes blown wide and half lidded.

“I’m yours,” He breathes, leaning up for one last kiss. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you forward so that you’re hovering above his thick cock. “Ride me baby.”

“I’d love to.” Reaching one hand down to position him at your entrance, you start to lower yourself down. Of course, Jaehyun chooses this exact moment to stop you. He truly is the spawn of Satan.

“Little bird, hold on just a second. I found something of interest in the back of Markie’s brain.” You cringe as he mocks your earlier nickname for the man. “What’s this I’m seeing, Mark? You like it up the ass?” His tone is teasing, but Mark groans in embarrassment. His face has gone an alarming shade of red by this point. “N-no,” He tries to deny, sputtering excuses but Jaehyun cuts him off with a press of a finger to his lips. “Oh, Mark, don’t get shy on me now. It’s a perfectly fine thing to like. Little bird, you’ll get your turn in a minute. You,” He snaps his fingers at Mark. “Come here. Kneel up, just like that. Perfect.” He appraises Mark’s ass for a moment, hands moulding the flesh before slipping a finger in. Mark’s eyebrows furrow, and you shoot up in alarm. “Doesn’t he need lube?”

Jaehyun looks at you, surprised that you care, before chuckling. “I can produce lube. Perks of being a lust demon.” Winking at you, he returns his focus to Mark. You can’t see what he’s doing, but the pure pleasure present on your best friends face has you clenching your thighs together, waves of need crashing through you. If you thought he looked good before, he looks absolutely gone now. Breathless groans are leaving him now, eyelids fighting to stay open as he sinks down on the others fingers. You watch him, mesmerized, before shuffling over to him.

“How close are you?”

He forces his gaze down to you. “Kind of- nngh- close, w-why?” 

Wrapping a hand around his base lightly, you start stroking. “Will you come if I blow you?”

He moans, a punched out sound that takes you by surprise. “Fuck, yes, I’ll definitely come if you blow me.” You pout in disappointment. Upon seeing your crestfallen expression, he continues. “Maybe we c-can- oh, yes- figure something out. Jaehyun,” He turns his head back behind him, struggling to get the words out between moans. “Can I eat y/n out?”

There’s just something so hot about Mark asking for permission from someone else that you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. Jaehyun must nod, because then you’re being laid back, Mark settling between your thighs. He’s sucking sweet kisses into your core almost immediately, pulling your legs over his shoulders to give him better access. You’re letting out sharp cries of pleasure the whole time, eyes fighting the urge to roll back in your head in favor of watching Mark between your legs. A particularly well placed flick of his tongue has your hips rolling against his face, grasping the sheets in your hand as your mind blanks. The pleasure climbing through your system is insane, threatening to burn you from the inside out.

It only gets better once Mark starts moaning, his sinful mouth sending sweet vibrations traveling up your core. You manage to catch sight of Jaehyun behind him, kissing wetly along his shoulders and neck, features curving into a smirk once he notices you watching him.

“Little bird likes this, hmm? Like watching another man pleasure your boyfriend while he pleases you?” You hum, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze, unable to even think, letting his boyfriend comment slide. Whereas before it hurt to look directly into his eyes, you now find yourself getting lost in his dark orbs. It’s like a drug, your pleasure being amplified by the man, demon, whatever in front of you.

You finally break eye contact, head falling back against the mattress as Mark draws you closer and closer to your peak. Burying one hand in his hair, you use the leverage to grind your core against his face, chasing your sweet release. “C-close, Mark, please-” You don’t know what you’re begging for at this point. It’s too much but not enough at the same time. Jaehyun saves you from having to decide by cruelly ripping your orgasm away from you, again, dragging Mark’s face away from your pussy.

A few tears slip down your face at this point, frustration reaching its peak. Jaehyun wipes the tears away, laughing lowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire soon.”

He must pull out of Mark, because your friend whimpers before seeming to realize what he just did and clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Mark, would you like to fuck our little bird now?” Mark nods, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

Jaehyun smirks. “Good. On your back. Y/n, ride him.” You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble onto your knees, wasting no time in straddling Mark before dropping yourself down on him. You both moan in satisfaction, you at finally being filled and Mark at your tightness. You have to brace both hands on his chest, almost collapsing at the overwhelming relief you feel. Beyond the burn of the stretch, his cock filling you up so nicely, there’s a sweet pleasure, a satisfaction.

You don’t wait very long to adjust, grinding your hips in smooth circles before lifting yourself off of him and dropping yourself back down. You quickly start a rhythm of you bouncing on his cock, eyes rolling at how fucking big he feels in you.

Mark’s hands are locked in a vice grip on your ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh and using his grip to urge you into a faster pace.

Jaehyun decides to join, coming up behind you to kiss at your neck, one hand reaching up to your mouth. “Suck,” He commands, slipping two fingers past your willing lips. You do, hollowing your cheeks and slurping around the digits, wishing that it was his dick. He hums behind you, bringing the wet digits down to your entrance, finding your clit with ease and rubbing fast circles into the little nub. You moan even louder now, feeling yourself speed towards your climax. You’ve been on edge for too long, you can’t hold on anymore.

“You close, little bird? Going to come on Mark’s cock? Gonna make him fill you up, pound into that dirty cunt?” His words get to you, your head falling back against his shoulder once more.

“Yes, yes! Oh, please, please-” He cuts off your mindless rambling by pulling you in for a kiss, one that you melt into. This is the first time he’s kissed you, and you’re quite upset that you hadn’t kissed him earlier. It’s a hot kiss, lots of tongue and teeth. It heightens your pleasure immensely, and you can’t stop kissing him. You suck on his tongue filthily, and oh, he must like that if the resulting groan is anything to go by. Even when he goes to pull away, you won’t let him, one hand fisting in his hair to keep him close. He seems to be speeding up your release, if that were even possible. Your mind feels hazier now, every sensation heightened, core screaming for release. You feel your orgasm twisting painfully at your insides, pulsing before finally exploding. The intensity of it rips a scream out of your throat, nails scratching across Mark’s chest as Jaehyun licks even deeper into your mouth, drinking up the noises you make.

When you come down, Mark is still thrusting desperately up into you, though he stops at the demons command. “From behind,” You hear Jaehyun say, but everything’s hazy at this point. Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, and it’s like watching through a screen. Like you’re high, though you hadn’t had anything the whole day.

Mark manhandles you into position, hands and knees with your ass raised high in the air. He leaves one gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before relentlessly pounding into you, cock hitting even deeper in this position. Jaehyun kneels in front of you, pulling your face in towards his cock. You moan around him as he slips inside, mouth not quite burning at the stretch like Mark, though the demon still has you gagging. His cock has the same effect on you as his kisses did, and you feel addicted. You’re slurping and sucking and moaning around him, not wanting the intense pleasure to stop. You barely hear the kissing above you, taking far too long to register that Jaehyun has pulled Mark into a messy kiss above you. The image has you moaning even more wantonly, ass pushing back against Mark.

The kiss seems to have a similar effect on the man, because then he’s slamming into you at an even more relentless rate, moans higher and more frequent before he’s coming with a shout, finally filling you up. Your core pulses again at the feeling, and you suck at Jaehyun’s dick with renewed vigor. His hands fist in your hair, keeping you still so that he can fuck your mouth as hard as he wants. You relish in the feeling of your throat being fucked raw, spit dripping out of your mouth and down his cock. He lets out a deep groan, hips slamming deep one last time as he finishes. His cum seems to ignite a fire within you, because you’re coming almost simultaneously with him, despite not even being touched.

You collapse afterwards, dragging yourself to Mark and letting him drape himself over you. You let yourself drift off to sleep, sated and still riding the high.

The demon kisses each of you one last time, drinking in the last remaining parts of your soul, watching as the two humans take their last breaths. “Thanks for the meal, lovelies.” He chuckles, petting your head almost affectionately before walking out into the night sky, not sparing a single glance back.

[littlemissnoname13]

Hello can I request where draco in fourth year having a crush on a hufflepuff reader but acts as arsehole cuz he doesn’t know how to show affection , leading it to her avoiding him which makes him depressed about what did he do wrong ?

Hi love. Thanks for the request.💕

I love writing Draco x hufflepuff!reader stories! I am a sucker for a slytherin x hufflepuff pairing.

I added a few extra details here and here. Hope you like it. X

Hopeful (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Word count: 2100 sorry got a bit carried away. 😅

Warnings: None. Soft!Draco being an absolute blubbering idiot.

Draco’s thoughts are written in green

Spring had arrived. 

It could be felt in the cool and gentle zephyr that made the shiny new leaves on top of the once barren and dead trees rustle. 

Daisies were in full bloom and the wind had managed to carry some of the petals away—making them fall to the ground, acting like a harbinger of the fast approaching summer. 

Draco couldn’t be bothered if it was spring, or autumn or winter. 

In that particular moment, all he wanted to do was get away from the Slytherin common room and Pansy Parkinson. 

He had taken her to the Yule ball and things had sort of fizzled out afterwards. He couldn’t get himself to see her as anything other than a friend. 

Having ran all the way to a far and secluded area of the Hogwarts grounds, Draco leaned against a tree trunk and panted heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. 

“Are you—are you alright?” 

Your voice startled him and he quickly stood up straight to look around. 

You were sitting criss-crossed on the grass with your transfigurations textbook opened on your lap. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up and your yellow and black tie hugged very loosely around your neck. 

“Fine.” He muttered as he slowly sat down noticing a single daisy tucked behind your ears. 

After sitting there in complete silence for the next few minutes, he finally spoke up. 

“What are you even doing here anyway?” 

“Just wanted some peace and quiet to be honest.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s a beautiful day.” 

Draco just hummed in response and kept staring at the daisy in your hair that swayed lightly with the breeze. 

“What?” You asked when you noticed. 

“You have—you have a twig stuck in your hair.” 

“A daisy.” You corrected him as you closed your book and moved a bit closer to where he was sitting. “It’s a daisy.” 

“Yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” He said quickly. “But why?” 

"Well, Daisies are essentially two flowers blended together in complete harmony." You said pulling the daisy out of your free falling hair before putting your hand forward to hand it to him. 

“And?” Draco reluctantly took the flower from you and blinked his eyes in confusion. 

“They are said to resemble innocence—true love even.”  You explained getting comfortable next to him.

“You believe in all that?” Draco scoffed, twirling the flower between his index finger and thumb. He couldn’t tell if the floral fragrance was coming from you or the air but it made him slightly queasy nonetheless. 

“Merlin. No.” You scrunched up your nose. “It just gives me hope I guess.” 

Draco gave you another hum in response. For someone who came up with snarky and sometimes witty comments on the spot, he found himself weirdly tongue tied. 

“I know you were hiding from Pansy by the way.” You remarked, making a small smile pull at his lips. 

“How come?”

“What do you mean how come?” You rolled your eyes. “Everyone can see that she is obsessed with you for some reason that I personally can't seem to comprehend.” 

~~~~~

The next day during potions class, Draco slowly opened his book and started to absently doodle on it with his quill while Snape talked about the upcoming potions essay that had to be done in pairs. 

Draco knew he should be paying attention but he just couldn’t get the interaction between you two out of his head. 

And just when he took a deep breath and decided to focus, a familiar scent started to fill his lungs up. 

Fruity, almost spicy notes of strawberry and pink grapefruit mixed with gardenias, vanilla and musk. It felt like someone had tossed a huge bouquet into the room. 

He knew it was you without even bothering to look up from my book. 

"Ah, Miss y/l/n. Late again." Snape muttered. “Five points from Hufflepuff house.” 

You quietly sat down next to your friend with your head hung low and Draco fought an unexplainable urge to give you a hug. 

"The essay must be done in pairs.." Snape said.

Great. 

"Ronald Weasley and Gregory Goyle." 

This is exactly what I needed right now. Thanks Snape. 

"Blaise Zabini and Hannah Abott." 

The last thing I need is someone weighing my essay down. 

"Draco Malfoy and y/n y/l/n." 

What? 

You turned back to look at Draco and gave him  an apologetic smile and he didn't understand why you kept smiling at him. It's not like the both of you had suddenly formed an unlikely bond with each other. 

Draco scowled at you in return and quickly raised his hand. "May I work on my essay alone?" 

"No. You may not Mr. Malfoy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Draco had been studying in the library for almost an hour. Because you were quietly sitting next to him, his elbows and knees slightly brushed yours every few seconds and as much as he hated to admit it, He secretly enjoyed it. 

Contrary to yesterday, Draco was trying very hard to make a conversation with you. You seemed somewhat offended that he had asked Snape to work on the essay alone. 

“I am happy to do most of the writing if you can look up all the ingredients.” You offered.

You don’t have to do all of that yourself. I am happy to help with the writing too. Is what he should have said. 

“Fine whatever.” He said instead as he reached for a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

That night, Draco stayed up tossing and turning in his bed before giving up on getting any sleep for the night. 

He lethargically walked towards his dresser and put his hands in his blazer pocket pulling out the now dried and pressed daisy from the other day. 

Taking a deep breath, he put the flower in between the pages of his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

You were drawing him in, undoing him, unraveling him even. 

He knew that. 

But did you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Draco! Open up." 

His head jolted towards the door and He quickly walked over to open it. 

You stood on the other end with books tucked in your arms, wearing your denim shorts and a plain white tank top—looking like summer personified. 

The more time he spent with you, the more he started to notice your quirks. Like that the way your skin glowed as the days got warmer. 

Compliment her. Do it. It’s not Difficult. 

“Did you do something different to your hair?” 

“Uh—no why are you asking.” 

“It just looks a bit strange.” He commented wanting to slap himself. 

"Okay, well are you going to let me in?" You questioned, wondering why he was blocking the way and asking you about your hair. 

Why did you have to wear that God damned tank top-

"Sorry?" You asked stepping inside making his cheeks burn when he realized he wasn’t meaning to say that out loud. 

"Just shut up and get back to working in the essay or whatever it is that you were doing." Draco grumbled feeling embarrassed as he grabbed some fresh parchment. 

Okay. Focus. The Strengthening solution requires...

You stretched a little and pushed your hair away from your face. 

several days to mature...

"Staring is rude Draco." You suddenly interrupted his thoughts as you set your eyes on his—peering right into his soul.

Draco felt like he was giving you some sort of power over him and the possibility of you using that power and leaving him heartbroken made him feel so very vulnerable.

He couldn't take the vulnerability a second longer.

 "I don't think we should study together anymore." He blurted quickly standing up. “It's for the best.”

"Huh?" You stood up contorting your face in total confusion—wondering just what you had done to piss him off. "What's wrong Draco? Did I do something wrong?" 

"Leave. Now." He muttered with his teeth clenched. 

Please don’t go.

"Just go—leave please."

You couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting burning your insides as you gathered all the books that were on the floor and ran made your way towards hufflepuff dormitories with tears threatening to flood your eyes. 

As soon as you ran off, he punched his wall and muttered out the plethora of angry curses when the impact bruised his knuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~

During the following week, Draco failed to show up to any of your shared classes after you had refused to talk to him after what happened. 

Even if you did manage to see him walking down the halls or walking with Crabbe and Goyle, you noticed that he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. 

On a Tuesday, Draco looked at the Hufflepuff table during breakfast and when you caught his eye, all you did was look away. 

Everyone at school had their opinions about him—most of them weren’t good opinions. 

But when you were with him under that tree, he seemed different. His smirk was more playful than condescending. It managed to charm you in a way. 

You took a final bite of your toast and gathered all your books, walking to your Potions class. 

His seat still remained empty and you shook your head, trying to snap away from the thoughts of him as you flipped open your book. 

Only it wasn’t your book. 

You didn’t remember writing on the margins and making annotations on your book. 

Running your fingertips along the pages, you flipped to the very first page of the book. 

D. Malfoy was written in ridiculously neat handwriting and you shook your head when you realized that you had grabbed his book with you that day by mistake. 

And just when you were about to put his book away, something fell from in between the pages and fell onto your desk. 

It was the daisy you had woven into your hair the other day. Even in its dried state, the petals remained intact like her had done something to keep them that way.

When class was finally over, you made a quick beeline towards the slytherin dungeons, bumping into people along the way. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Some hufflepuff girl is standing outside the dungeons asking to see you.” Theo shrugged when he saw Draco at the common room sofa. “Says it's urgent.” 

He felt terrified yet so elated as he quickly stood up and made his way outside. 

“Here’s your book.” You said taking a step towards him. “You never told me what’s wrong by the way.” 

“Thank you.” Draco quickly took his book from you and stared at the ground. 

“Why did you stop talking to me y/n?”

“You told me to go away—If I remember correctly.” You said shaking your head at him. “Tell me Draco, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.” He said quietly, meeting your gaze. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You make me feel all weak.....and smiley...and I hate it." He looked at you with agitation.

"Weak?" You ran your  fingers through your hair in confusion. 

"And your ridiculous white tank top." Draco half yelled. 

"What's wrong with my top?" You asked, raising your voice slightly as if you had had enough of this. 

"Nothing is wrong except for the fact that you look stunning in it.” He blurted involuntarily. "It is absolutely distracting when one is trying to study!." 

He watched you open your mouth in shock and close it. Before he could spend another minute trying to solve the riddle that was your expression, you grabbed him by his tie and placed your lips on his. 

His brows furrowed as he kissed you back tenderly. Tasting the sweetness of your lips—pouring out every bit of suppressed passion and adoration he felt for you with his lips.

There was something so strange and euphoric about finally kissing someone he had been longing to kiss for so long. 

Something so magical about holding the person that fits perfectly into his arms. 

Freaking Finally. 

He was slightly disappointed when you slowly backed away, but the glow on your skin and the glossy ness in your eyes made him smile. 

"I guess I'll leave before I realize the consequences of what I have just done." You said softly as you held his face and placed a small peck on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you found a tiny box and an envelope on your desk when you woke up. Your roommate let you know that Draco Malfoy had stopped by late last night when you were asleep and half begged and half threatened her to leave the box on your desk. 

You slowly opened the box and found a bedazzled and whimsical looking daisy necklace, encrusted with gems.  

A Daisy for my daisy. 

You give me hope.

- D.M

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco Taglist: @dracomalfoyisindahouse @dracomalfoys-wh0re @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @desiredmalfoy @dlmmdl @trainintersection @fa-me @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @loloo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @louweasleymalfoy @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @thebitchybeatle @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @amwitherspoon @the-bisexual-bitch

Love you all sm. (if i was unable to tag you, please look into your privacy settings)

Fell free to send me reuests. My other stories can be found here.

Join my taglist here.

- violet-Anne

[pastelpaperplanes]

Big Ol Ask Post Pt. 3 I think

I haven’t drawn anything other than cursed or plain technical stuff w him 😔😔 have these for now but expect more soon!

anon a way back asked what he’d look like next to Overlord being already so big compared to Megs, that’s why you see Lordie if you’re wondering why he’s thrown in that line up!

by the way I have a voice claim for the big purple simp— Jenner from NIMH, he’s so awful but that suave baritone oh it fits too well >:] it’s the ‘humble servant’ line that got to me

Yep! Pharma is absolutely in this AU—as well as the CFau and Crack one too—and in all, he’s still an estranged medic long since booted from any legal work back on Cybertron.

He lost his credibility and more all those years ago when he found himself willing to do his fair share of cutting corners and hastily concealed malpractice to expedite his dream of getting his name down in the medical books—ultimately impressing his dear Mentor Ratchet, finally, in perfecting long-since banned risky experiments and surgeries—not to mention cruel and unusual temperament with the (supposedly) taboo practice of non-medicinal mnemosurgery.

His ambitions and aggression always got the bet of him, this hasn’t changed since he found himself working in freelance outposts. Light years away from Cybertron, he’s made a name for himself as a Good Doctor—but to his under-the-table black market part-dealing clients, he’s just about as bad as a Crooked Medic can get.

Bounty hunters and Arms Dealers like him for his business, a certain DJD member likes him for the occasional berth company and seemingly never ending supply of fresh T-Cogs—but no one actually likes him for his nasty temperamental personality, save for a young and naive Ratchet once upon a time.

Pharma is a roamer, as of recent he’s been a hard to reach mech—seems as if he’s found a little project to keep himself pretty occupied in the last few decades—something about a breakthrough for aiding the Decepticon Energon Crisis :] him and a small, horrifyingly cheerful surgeon are well on their way to completing their first trial batches, it’s safe to say that their little synthetic mixture will have it’s users sated and compliant.

they’ve got that amazing ‘new car smell’ those first few weeks, and instead of chittering like an Insecticons or vibrating their wings like a seeker—they beep and squeak, sometimes even honk a horn depending on the baseline altmode coding, to get their Creators’ attention before their vocalizer truly starts to kick online

It’s cute, but loud

Much like a seeker sparkling, they have to reach a certain ‘age’ (upgrade) to be able to transform completely, in between then they’re still able to rev those engines as a warning should they need it, as well as spin their wheels should they need a getaway HEELIES IF THEYRE LUCKY WOOHOOOOO—for seekers they can hover on their thrusters!

Crusade is actually pretty formal with Megatron. But yeah as a kid, Megs was always known as Carrier, but as Sadie got older and more aware of their surroundings—they definitely came to learn the true weight of that title and the fact that they were the progeny of the faction leader, a fact they should have really held onto with more pride. Not wanting to draw more attention to the already blatant favoritism (and nepotism) Crusade made a switch to addressing Megatron as Sir, My Lord, Lord Megatron, —ect. to better fit in with their fellow troops.

It bothers Megatron more than than he lets on. Crusade shouldn’t have to hide their high ranking as his child, the heir to the faction. Megs is their Carrier and can only order them around for so long, as their Leader however—pulling rank may just allow for their infuriatingly stubborn sparkling to listen to them should a day come where even a Carrier’s plea is dismissed.

Crusade does slip up every now and then and a ‘Carrier’ will slip—often hushed and annoyed though as Megs does like to tease every now and then, gotta remind them that they’re still his baby every once in a while :’)

Optimus however—whenever him and Crusade should truly reunite, will never be called Sire by Crusade, which they so heatedly established early on—Crusade never needed one and they don’t need one now, better to not let the title trigger those long-suppressed emotions. Sure enough though Optimus will get his moment.

actually no lmfao so you’re good! Eh, I haven’t mentioned much plot w them outside of them and Megs, plus bits of potential interactions with Optimus—so the rest of Team Prime is free game :D

For what I (hopefully will have) planned, their interactions with team Prime will be eh,,,interesting to each their own to say the least. Some more stressful than others BUT let’s not get into that until I’ve worked it out—for now I’ll just mention what they’re dynamics would be like when the drama of Oh Shit Boss Bot You’ve Been Hiding a Kid For HOW LONG has died down.

A usually touch-wary Crusade actually is the one to initiate a hug with Bulkhead, he’s the biggest and warmest and somehow is always happy to see them. Plus he tells cool recaps of Earth films and gifts them strange blobish paintings every now and then, all of which Crusade doesn’t exactly understand, but at least the colors are pretty.

Bee is annoying,,,which is what Crusade would say if confronted if they actually liked all the shenanigans Bee suggest they pull together, prank wars to the max, sparring for fun, video games?, DOUGHNUTS and RACES in the fortress halls??? Ahem. they are a super serious soldier, not a hooligan. But honestly, Bee is the one they seek out the most should they need an adventure, they missed out on a lot of this ‘fun’ growing up on the Nemesis—Bee seems to know how to balance a day of soldiering and dumbassery. sometimes.

Ratchet reminds them a bit too much of their Carrier than they’d care to admit. The medic is an old soul to his very core, perpetually tired but quick to snap into work mode, and sweet if you reallllllly squint. Sadie has been taught from day one to always respect medics, Ratchet obviously takes the cake on I’ve Seen Some Shit and for that alone Crusade both fears and admires Ratchet. Again, growing up on the Nemesis they didn’t have too many bots willing to talk much with them—but Ratchet (after he’s gone through his own lot of therapy, him AND Arcee. good lord) has a never ending pile of stories to share with them. Ratchet may throw in a few more colorful curses than necessary—which is SURPRISING bc Crusade thought they’d heard them all back home, but he’s entertaining and tells Crusade how it is, no sugarcoating. For that Crusade is grateful, there’s been too many half-truths thrown about to them in their recent years :’)

Ghost Prowl freaks them out—why does he deliberately have to be so sneaky?? Crusade has only met Prowl a fleeting handful of times (visits from the Allspark come with meaning, you know) and each time Crusade has been given nothing but odd riddles and poetic nonsense. Kidding. Prowl does like his wordplay’s but his given advice is always well meaning—the most firm and direct message Crusade has been passed though was probably most definitely “ Get those two cowards for mecha you call your Creator’s to stop fooling around with each other and SPEAK—at this rate it’s physically paining me that they haven’t begun Ritus and they’re not getting any younger”

Team Prime adores Sadie, they ask Megatron to see their sparkling photos every chance they catch him. And Crusade. hates it.

:) have

We’ve been here before, haven’t we?

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[alreadyblondenow]

Hold it all together

“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?”

Pairing: Johnny x female!reader, childhood best friends to lovers

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

WC: 1,970k

Warnings: mentions of exchanging nudes, a lot kissing, unorotected sex, mentions of condoms, its just soft sex guys hahha mentiins of dreamies being the reader’s brothers.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time. To the

Happy, excited, and sleepless. Today is the first day of Johnny’s spring break and he has been waiting for this day, the moment freshman year started... because this is the only time he can go home and finally see you again.

Johnny has been your childhood best friend and you two are basically inseparable. Well, except when he needed to leave for college. Of course you’re devastated the whole summer just before Johnny leaves. And it was that season, you both admitted your feelings for each other. Feelings that has been bottled up for too long finally and suddenly bursted out during a friendly kiss that turned into a passionate one which led to a slow and intimate sex the night before he left.

It has been almost half a year when that fateful night happened, but everything feels so fresh for him still. After what happened between you and Johnny, your relationship with each other did not progressed to something even more serious. Although you exchange nudes from time to time, FaceTime until the morning and say ‘i miss you’ to each other together with other sweet words.

And that is why Johnny is driving his way home to you with a bouquet of flowers on the front seat of his car, fighting through his sleepiness and keeping himself awake until he reaches your house to surprise you.

When he finally arrived first thing in the morning, he met your mom first and told you that he’s here to surprise you. “She’s still sleeping, but you can wake her up if you want to. She misses you so bad,” your mom said to Johnny. He then made this way to your room with the flowers in his hand and entered quietly, careful not to disturb your sleep. He placed the flowers on your bedside table near a photo he took for you and smiled in awe because you always cherish everything he gave you.

Feeling so sleepy and tired from the long drive, he removed his shoes and joined you under the covers. Slinging his arm around your waist and finally waking you up with soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m home,” he whispered softly. You rolled to face him, surprised but you’re both so sleepy to show it so you returned his hug and hugged him tightly. The moment you laid eyes on him, his eyes were already closed, comfortable and more than happy that he can feel your presence.

And as you both sleep together in your small bed, well, small because Johnny is a big person, you bask in his warmth and meet him in your dreams. Not wasting any second without each other.

“You must be really tired” you said when he finally woke up, raking his soft hair away from his face.

He nodded and smiled at you. Finally. He thought. “What time is it?”

“Almost afternoon. But no one cares,” you said and came closer to him, finally kissing those lips you missed so much. He rolled on top of you, putting his whole weight on you while kissing you breathlessly on the lips, neck and chest. His hands were perfectly placed on your waist, his thumb is drawing small circles on your skin and as if he’s asking permission to lift your shirt and see you without your clothes on.

He pulled away to remove his thick hoodie and plain white shirt, leaving him only with his denim pants. You noticed his body changed a lot, sure the nude photos he sends were great and it makes you miss him more, but seeing Johnny again in between your legs without a shirt on and looking hot as fuck just makes you crave for him. “This is so much better than the photos you send me,”

He let out a satisfied smile and started to unbutton his denim pants and remove it in front of you. You on the other hand, removed your pajama and welcomed him in your arms again. Kissing him deeper than ever and making him touch your boobs and squeeze them, which makes you automatically part your lips and want for more.

“Have you been fucking different girls from different sororities?” You joked in between kissing him and palming his clothed cock.

“Wouldn’t even dare. How can I even think of fucking other girls, knowing that this pussy is waiting for me?” he knew you were only joking and put his thumb on your clothed pussy. Teasing you with the right amount of pressure, careful not to make you cum so early.

“How about you? Have you been seeing other guys?” you smiled and removed your shirt, throwing it somewhere and finally exposing yourself to him. He then kissed every inch of you, hands freely roam around your body, and even tickling you from time to time.

“How can I even try seeing other guys, when I already have who I want?”

You didn’t see but Johnny smiled because of your answer while he’s placing butterfly kisses all the way down your body. Kissing you lovingly and showing you how much he misses you.

After the innocent kisses, you feel him reach for your panties and hook his fingers on the garter, slowly pulling it down while he kisses your inner thighs. Preparing you to what comes next and spreading your legs a little too harsh than expected that you yelped and your body was dragged on the mattress.

“Oops. Sorry, got carried away,” he sweetly apologized to you, kissing you on the cheek before he proceeds again.

That sudden harsh movement was the real Johnny in bed. You’ve only had sex with him once, now is only the second time. But word is, Johnny fucks hard in bed. Everyone knows that because he slept with a handful of girls during high school and you’re just this supportive friend that listens to him talk about a great night or a great fuck the other night.

“Hey,” Johnny snapped his fingers and went on top of you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles before he makes you embrace him. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing. I’m just swimming in my thoughts. Uhm, what did you said again?”

“I asked if you want to use a condom”

“Uh. I don’t have one... do you-“

“Nope,” he said with a smirk. You suddenly remember that he loves fucking raw but what you don’t know is, you’re the first person he ever fucked raw. “Just tell me if it hurts. Again. Okay?”

He said, and you nod. Lining his cock on your entrance while he kisses your neck and kissing your boobs as he pushes in slowly. Tighter and tighter, your grip on his shoulders becomes. The familiar stretch of Johnny’s cock just makes your eyes shut and take him whole. Savouring every thrust he gives you, feeling every inch of cock inside you. It’s so big, you tell to yourself.

“Sorry, it’s bigger now because I’m so horny and I haven’t had sex since our last” he explained with ragged breaths near your ear.

“It’s okay,” is all you can manage to say.

He fucked you slow and deep or fast and sloppy. Either way it felt good and it surprised you how long you lasted this time.

Then suddenly he pulled away, spreading your legs wider as he changes his position. Having a better view of your bouncing boobs and fucked expression that never fails to turn him on. “Fuck Y/n,” he whined and reached for your boobs as he moves slower. Matching your moans and groans because he’s so close too. He then closes the space between you two and kissed you on the lips again like you’re about to disappear any second. Holding on to your body so tight that you’re sure it’s going to leave marks. Then suddenly your eyes rolled back and you’re breathing heavily and moaning a little too loud but no one will hear. Your orgasm completely washed you away and its all thanks to Johnny.

You smiled at him and reached for kisses to calm both of you down. “Was it a good one?” He was talking about the orgasm.

“The. Best.” You said in between kissing. “Did you come inside me?” He shook his head no. “Good. I’m not on the pill,”

“Kind of made a mess tho,” he looked to the direction of where he shoot his cum and it was on your lower abdomen and bed sheets. It was thick. His cum was so thick and many, that he was already embarrassed.

“Is it obvious that i missed you?” He asked. Kissing you on your forehead sincerely before he proceeds to clean his mess up.

“I think I need to shower,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll cover for you,”

While you were busy cleaning yourself, Johnny made himself decent again and decided to go downstairs to greet Mark and Jeno, your brothers. And eventually have breakfast with them.

“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?” He casually asked them and stuffed sausage in his mouth.

“Heck yeah that’s what I’m talking about man! Yo, just dont hurt her” Mark exclaimed in excitement thens suddenly turned serious.

“I won’t,” Johnny answered.

“And don’t make her miss you too much because you know we cant trust long distance relationship these days,” Jeno added.

Johnny agrees and said, “I will visit her every month”

“Don’t get her pregnant. I mean yet- get her pregnant when it’s the righ time- you get what i mean” Mark awkwardly added.

“O...kay. I’ll use condoms from now on. Anything else?”

“Dude just make her happy like you always do,”

“I will” Johnny said with a proud smile.

“Aren’t you boys should be cleaning the pool?” And the two boys immediately scrammed and quickly did their chores. Leaving you and Johnny in the kitchen with the food. Pinching Johnny’s cheek because now that you can see him clearly, you see a lot of changes.

“Only you can do that to me” he said then caught your hand and intertwined it with yours, he has become bold you notice. He pulled you closer to him while he finishes his juice, but the atmosphere is hetting a little stuffy and awkward so you tried having a conversation.

“Do you want to shower? I still have some of your clothes” you offered.

“Mhmm. Keep those, I have stuff in my car”

You nod and suddenly it was silent.

“Hey y/n, I was thinking of making it official between us. I mean if you want to. I just think that we’ve been flirting with each other for some time now and wed make a pretty good team,”

“ I thought you’d never ask. Took you longer than expected tho,” you put another sausage in his mouth ”The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved in return.”

“Im just scared to fuck it up,” he sighed in relief “thank you for loving me back. I promise to take care of you 5000 more times than before”

“I’ll do the same... and wow you just asked me to be your girlfriend in the middle of our kitchen. How romantic.” He smiled handsomely then suddenly remembered one last thing.

“Oh by the way we uhm we need to start using condoms. I promised mark,”

“What-“

“I know right. Fucking you raw is good but your brother said to not get you pregnant”

“Ugh mark...” you moved your chair and hugged him tightly feeling him kiss the top of your head and cheek nonstop while you continue to eat.

The day may have started filthily, but it ended with a decently soft kiss on your temple from your best friend now boyfriend.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 10 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.3 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (09)

Next part (11) ->

A/N: This part was inspired on the song Treacherous by Taylor Swift

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Treacherous

You can't believe you let Billy convince you into this. These parties were never your thing. They usually happen during the week, and on the next day, you can see the effects on those who went. Today is Saturday, but even so.

Maybe it was Billy's intense stare, or how he smiled and caressed your cheek as he asked you to go with him... Or how he said he wouldn't go without you because there would be no point.

Sighing, you look at yourself in the mirror, blushing at the memories. Your hair is styled with some waves, and they flow down your shoulders. The dress you choose is tight, perfectly hugging your body. Not too tight though, as the dresses Stacy and her friends wear. It's decent and delicate, pink and black... And you wonder if Billy will like it.

“(Y/N), Billy is here!” Your mother yells and you sigh, fixing your hair and leaving the bathroom.

Once you put the high heels on, you take your purse and go downstairs. Billy is seated on the couch, but his eyes find you immediately, and he stands up. “Hey.” You mutter, walking over a very weird Billy. He has his mouth half-open, eyes scanning your body. “Have you lost something?” Trying to keep the sassy tone, you cross your arms, heat spreading through your cheeks.

“I just never saw you on a dress before and...” He sighs, eyes meeting yours and a smirk coming to his lips. “You're stunning.”

Biting your lip, you look down, taking in the leather jacket and the red shirt underneath, which has a lot of buttons left open. “You look good too.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. “Shall we go?”

“Sure.” Nodding, you start walking to the front door.

“(Y/N).” Your mother calls, and when you turn around, she's standing by the kitchen door frame. “Be back by ten, alright?”

Silently, you nod before waving and walking out.

The ride to the party is filled with small talk. Billy keeps stealing glances, a small smile that never leaves his lips.

Once you get there, a house you don't even know who lives in, you raise your eyebrows as you walk in. The music is loud, but the people are louder. The place is crowded, and you wouldn't want to be the one to clean this place after.

“So, what do you think?” Billy asks, mouth close to your ear.

“It's very loud!” You tell him, and someone bumps on you, making your shoulder collapse on his chest.

Billy gives someone a hard stare before looking down at you. “Wanna dance?”

“Yeah.”

“Come.” He takes your hand, guiding you to the living room, which has the furniture all moved, creating an open space. There are a lot of people here already, but they move aside for Billy. A lot of eyes lay on you, but you ignore them. “I don't even know if you can dance, pretty girl.”

“Oh, I do.” Smirking at him, you wrap your arms around his neck, and start moving.

Billy raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed as his hands encircle your waist. You're very, very close, and you can feel all of his body. Your cheeks burn, the proximity making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. The heels do make you closer to his lips, but still, he'd have to bend down to kiss you.

Kissing Billy Hargrove. You never thought you'd want to do such thing.

But here you are now, dancing with him, spinning around and colliding your back against his chest as his arms hold you close, moving to the hectic beat. And it's perfect, amazing. Not because of the party, but because of him. You want to be like this forever, in his arms.

“You? Here?” The voice, very familiar breaks through your stupor, and you come back to Earth. Steve raises an eyebrow, purposely ignoring the man holding you. “I could never convince you to come to these parties. Not even when we were dating.”

Billy gets tense behind you, arms holding you a bit tighter. “Well, that was because I never had a good reason to come. Now I do.” Shrugging your shoulders, you gesture at Billy. “Where's your girl?”

“Bathroom.” He says, looking around. “There she is. Gotta go.” He steps away, but stops suddenly, eyes focusing on Billy for the first time. “You try anything with her I–”

“Steve, go.” Cutting him off, you speak up. “I'll be alright, Billy treats me well.”

“He better do.” With one last angry stare, Steve walks away, and you breathe out, relieved.

“I'll get you something to drink,” Billy says, letting go of you. You turn around, giving him a look. “A soda. Just soda.” Smiling, he raises both hands in defeat. “I know you well, pretty girl.”

“Alright. I'll check the backyard.”

“I'll meet you there,” Billy says and you nod, starting to make your way through the people.

The backyard isn't empty, but it's not crowded as the house is. Blame it on the cold. It's freezing, and you wish you had brought a jacket. The yard is cute though. A single three and some wooden tables scattered around. There's a bench under the tree, so you sit there bracing yourself and rubbing your arms.

“Hi.” Someone says, and you find Tyler coming to join you on the bench. “You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thanks.” His tone sounds weird, and you move away from him a little.

“People didn't use to notice you, but they sure are now. And God, you're so beautiful.” He says, and you give him a confused glance. Why is he saying this? “How did you manage to stay invisible for so long?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders. “Because I'm not the type of girl guys like you pay attention to. And now that I'm with Billy–"

“You're with Billy?” He cuts you off, eyes following a small group of people walking by. “Is it official?”

“Mmm... We're... We're hanging out.”

“There's a big difference, see...” Tyler moves closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You immediately shake his hand away, but he keeps it on the backrest of the bench. “Because if you're with Billy, your off-limits. And if you're not... Well, I can have a shot with you.” Tyler run his fingers through your shoulder, all the way to the back of your neck. So you get up, not even trying to seem polite.

“I'm not interested, Tyler.” Bracing yourself from the cold, you look down at him.

“Look, you know Billy won't keep you. Save yourself a broken heart.”

“(Y/N),” Billy calls and you thank the heavens. Turning around, you find Billy coming your way. “Tyler.” He says in a weird, plain tone.

“Billy.”

“Here.” He hands you over the can of soda, eyebrows furrowed. “Everything alright?”

“Sure,” Tyler speaks before you can, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“Wasn't talking to you.” He snaps, eyes coming to look at you.

“I'm fine.” With a half-smile, you tell him, craking the can open and taking a sip.

“Mmm.” Billy mumbers, and you can read the question in his eyes. “Here.” He says at the same time he starts taking his jacket off. “You're cold.”

“I'm not, really.” You protest, but he puts the jacket around your shoulders anyway. “I mean it, B. You'll be cold.”

“I'm alright.” He assures you. “And come. Let's get out of here.” Without giving Tyler a second glance, Billy guides you away, and you don't even try to resist.

You thought he was driving you home, but instead, he took you to a snack bar, where he bought you ice cream. And here, leaning against his car in the almost empty parking lot, you're having more fun than you were back at the party. The night is a bit cold, but the sensation Billy brings out makes you warm.

“Did Tyler say anything?” He asks, putting his empty plastic ice cream cup on the hood of his car.

“No, just... He said I'm pretty, that you'll break my heart so I should give him a chance.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look down, putting your cup next to his before pushing yourself up, sitting on the hood of his Camaro. “But don't mind him. Nobody else knows what happens between us.”

“I won't break your heart. I'm scared you will break mine.” Billy says, a nervous giggle leaving his lips. “(Y/N), I...” He comes closer, his hand, on the hood, touching your leg. Then you fold a leg under yourself, your body leaning closer to him. It happens involuntary, as a need you have you didn't even know was there. “I use to act and think and feel like I was unbreakable. But you... You made me weak.” It comes out as a plead, and Billy ends the little distance between you two. His face is too close, and his blue eyes are everything you see as his hand comes to caress your cheek. “I'm completely at your mercy. I'll do anything you say”

You've never been this close to Billy. And yet, you want more. The whole world is out of focus, and even the gravity is too much. Your heart needs him, it wants him. “Put your lips close to mine...” Your voice is barely a whisper, as your mind tries to win the fight over your heart. You'd be smart to walk away, but Billy is quicksand. He pulls you in. His kindness, gentleness... His touch, his voice, his eyes... Every single thing draws you closer. “As long as they don't touch...”

“I'm in love with you,” Billy says, eyes never leaving yours. “I've been since I saw you for the first time but it only got stronger. When we're close, I want to kiss you, and touch you and look at you... And when I see you walking away all I can hear is the sound of my own voice asking you to stay.”

A smile takes over your lips. He's confessing it, he's saying it with all the words. Billy's heart is open... And he loves you. “Everyone warns me about you. They tell me not to fall for the bad boy and sometimes it scares me but... Your name has echoed through my mind and I just think you should know.” Holding on the collar of his shirt, just to make sure he'll stay close, you look at his lips. “But nothing safe is worth the drive so...”

“(Y/N)...” He says, begs, pleads.

“This path is reckless... Treacherous... But I like it.”

And it's settled. You want him. And when Billy loses control, when he kisses you, you surrender. His lips taste like ice cream at first, but soon after all you can taste is him. And it's amazing, indescribable, inebriating. You've never kissed someone like that, you never wanted to kiss someone like that, and now you know why.

You've been waiting to kiss Billy all along.

And when you have to pull away, he holds you close, forehead touching as you both catch your breathes. The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable. It's the silence of two people in love enjoying each other's company.

“So...” Billy says after a while, his thumb caressing your lower lip. “I believe we're dating now.”

The different tone makes you laugh, playfully pushing him away and jumping off the hood. “What makes you think that?”

“A good girl like you wouldn't kiss someone she's not dating.”

“I'll make an exception for you...” With a smirk, you open the passenger door. “We can go back to the party if you want.”

“No way. I'm taking you home.” Billy gestures for you to get inside, closing the door for you.

“Are you for real?” You ask as he starts the car.

“Yup.”

“You know my mother isn't home, right? She wouldn't even know.” Putting the seat belt on, you look at Billy. He has a smile on. The kind of smile you've never seen before.

“No, I want to make things right this time.” He glances at you, and your eyes fall on his lips, making you want to kiss him again.

Blushing, you nod, looking at the road ahead. “Alright.”

On the ride home, you listen to some music. And as he speeds through the streets, you sing out loud. Some people look with an angry face, eyebrows furrowed, but it only makes you sing louder. You're happy, like you never felt before.

The song is only turned off when he stops by your house, and you step out of the car. Billy walks you to your front door, and you stop there, turning to face him.

“I had fun tonight.” You tell him, a hand on the door handle, but with no intention of going inside.

“So did I.” He mutters in a low voice, stepping closer. Despite the high heels, he's still taller, so you raise your head to look at him. The darkness hides you both from curious eyes, and it makes you brave enough to move closer, holding on to his shirt.

“You know that if I cross the door with this jacket I won't give it back anymore, right?” You whisper, a smile on your lips.

“Take it, it's yours.” He whispers back, a hand caressing your cheek. “The jacket... My heart...” And he kisses you again, slowly, allowing you to feel the warmth of his lips and mouth against the cold of the night.

But he pulls away too soon, and you sigh. “What?”

“It's past ten, pretty girl. Get inside.” He places a kiss on your forehead, reaching behind you and pushing the door open. “See you tomorrow at school.”

“Good night, B.” Smiling, you turn around and step inside, but the door remains open until his car disappears down the street.

×

@multific @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @theodore-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85 @taisab02 @pascal-rascal424 @aleksanderblack @gruffle1

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,778 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: None really! A/N: This is the final part of a miniseries! Find the previous part on the Masterlist!

Your name: submit What is this?

The next morning, Daryl was still sitting watch outside the barn as he had promised you when some movement up at the farmhouse caught his eye. He straightened up when he saw it was you stepping onto the porch. He immediately started heading over and met you at the steps. The bruising on your arm from your boyfriend’s hand and fingers and on your face from where he had hit you had darkened overnight and his stomach twisted and clenched with anger. The split in your bottom lip glared out against the delicate pink around it, a dark crimson slice.

“Hey. Are ya alright?” His blue eyes were narrowed in concern.

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” You glanced over at the makeshift campsite. It was quiet and still. “Everyone still sleeping?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Ya sure ya should be up and about? Ya got a concussion.”

“I’m okay.” You gave him a long look and Daryl waited. He could sense you were on the edge of saying something. You tried to gulp down the nerves. “Would you—will you take me to go talk to him?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Ya dun owe him anythin’,” he drawled. The gravel was heavier in his voice than usual.

Daryl nudged his nose up at you in a nod. He turned to lead the way but you called him back.

“Daryl—” There was worry and anxiety etched in your brow and somehow the archer knew what you were trying to ask.

“I won’t leave ya alone with him. Don’t worry.”

You gulped, grateful that he understood implicitly, immediately. You went down the steps and fell into stride beside him.

“How’d ya sleep? Ya get some rest?” he asked, casting a sideways glance in your direction. It almost physically hurt him when his eyes hitched on your injuries.

You nodded. “A little. Except Hershel had someone coming in to wake me up every hour or so… I guess that’s to make sure I wasn’t going into a coma after the—the concussion…”

Daryl felt that familiar burn of rage in his chest. “Is it that serious?” he asked, stopping dead. “Maybe ya really shouldn’t be up. We should get ya—”

“I’m fine. I think he was just being cautious,” you countered.

Daryl gulped under the fixed gaze of your eyes but ultimately nodded and started toward the barn again.

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked kindly, concern in your tone.

Daryl shrugged vaguely. “Nah. But s’alright. Wanted to make sure he was locked up and couldn’t get to ya. Once the others are up, I’ll catch a few hours.”

You gave him a grateful smile, feeling your cheeks warm a little with a blush. “Thanks for that.” He only nodded.

Finally, you both arrived at the barn and Daryl unlocked the door and paused with his hand on the latch. “Ya sure?” You looked a little afraid, but you nodded. He swung the door open and followed you inside. He passed in front of you as you crossed the space to a huddled figure leaning partially up against the opposite wall, half-slumped over toward the dirt floor. Daryl rushed up to him and kicked the bottom of his boot hard. “Wake up, dumbass!” he growled.

He stirred and lifted his head. You could see that his face was bloody and bruised, with one eye completely swollen shut, the result of Daryl’s fists the day before. You felt sick when he noticed you were there, his whole body language changed. His whole demeanor changed, but you knew it was just all an act.

“Oh, baby. Babe, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you! I just got so jealous. Please, I just—I love you so much!” He was immediately pleading. Your heart started to race and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased.

Daryl was immediately on him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and thrusting him hard against the wall. “Shut the fuck up! I don’t wanna hear another goddamn word out of ya. Ya ain’t even deserve to look at her, but she’s got some things she wants to say, and you’re gonna listen. Got it?” Your boyfriend averted his eyes and said nothing, and Daryl released his hold on him. Your ex-boyfriend’s eyes drifted back to you. They were cold, hard.

Daryl stood just behind you, watching the scene carefully for anything going the slightest millimeter wrong.

“They asked me what to do with you. You’re gonna be gone, but whether that’s away from here or dead is mostly up to me.” You paused and gulped again at the tightness in your throat. “But I think a quick and easy death is just too good for you. Besides, I don’t want anyone’s blood on my hands, even yours. So, I’m gonna tell Rick to take you way out, alone, into the middle of nowhere and just leave you. So maybe you’ll feel a modicum of the fear you put me through every day. You’ll experience how alone I felt, how isolated. How helpless. How robbed of every part of me that mattered. And then the walkers can have you. Or maybe you’ll meet someone just like yourself and get a taste of your own medicine.” Your bottom lip was quivering a little but you were determined to get through this. “And there’s something else you should know. Right now, this is the last time I will ever think about you. But you? You’ll think about me every day. You’ll think about what you did. But I don’t care about you anymore. It’ll be like you never existed.”

You stared at him once more for a long moment and then turned to look at Daryl. He nudged his nose up at you in a nod and you headed for the door, leaving behind the man you had once loved who you now didn’t recognize. Daryl latched and locked up the barn and you waited for him, your arms across yourself again, subconscious armor. He was anxiously chewing his bottom lip when he turned around and caught your striking eyes. “Ya did good in there. Ya feel better? After havin’ your say?”

Your expression turned a little sad. “Maybe a tiny bit. But mostly no. Besides, it was a lie. He’ll haunt me for a while. But it’ll be different. He won’t have control over me anymore. And I won’t live every day like I’m walking on eggshells.” You studied Daryl’s face for a moment and felt a warmth growing in your chest. “Thank you, Daryl. For everything.”

He shook his head. “S’nothin’.”

Your lips curved in a small smile and Daryl watched with surprise as you came close to him and stretched yourself up on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Setting your heels back down, your eyes flickered between his, memorizing the shades of blue in them. His expression was a little impassive, but you didn’t mind. You smiled up at him again. “Get some sleep,” you said, gently touching his arm, before turning and heading away back up to the farmhouse. The trail of warmth and slight tingling, like the remnants of a static charge, were still strong on his skin even as your figure faded away.

Daryl’s heart was hammering in his chest still as he laid down on his cot in his tent, chasing sleep.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Two Months Later “Hey!” Daryl jumped up from the log he was seated on beside his small fire circle as he saw you starting to cross the green space toward the tree line. You paused and turned at the sound of his voice and the smile you gave him sent a rush of heat to his chest which quickly poured into his face. You just brightened when you smiled and he found it damn near irresistible. “Where the hell ya think you’re going?” he said, jest plain in his voice as he jogged over to you.

You adjusted the strap of your pack on your shoulder and rested the other hand on the hilt of your knife, which was sheathed at your hip. “Gonna go see what I can forage. If I have to listen to Rick and Shane bickering anymore today, I’m going to lose my mind,” you joked.

“Yer just gonna go off out there? By yerself?” he asked you, his brow drawing down low over his blue eyes. “Real nice. Where the hell is my invite?”

You laughed jovially, and Daryl felt another jolt to his heart, causing it to skip a beat. He loved the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, and how now you gave into it with your whole being. You were just like that, despite everything you had been through and despite the state of the world, you just gave into it. It gave Daryl hope. You straightened up and gave him a half-smile. “Well, where’s your crossbow? Come on. How are you gonna keep me safe from walkers without it?”

Daryl smiled back at you, just a small one like he always did, but it still filled you up every time you saw it. He lifted his chin in a nod. “Be right back,” he drawled. You were happy to wait for him while he grabbed his gear and returned to your side.

You fell into stride beside each other at an easy pace and headed toward the tree line. “So, Rick and Shane were goin’ at it again, huh?” Daryl asked. “What was it this time?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Nothing. That’s the thing… Shane is just—I don’t know. He takes any excuse he can to pick an argument with Rick. He’s just—I don’t know…” you trailed off. “He makes me uncomfortable,” you said.

Daryl glanced over at you, his face darkening with a shadow of concern. “He do somethin’?” He felt a swell of protective fire in his chest.

You met his blue eyes and shook your head. “No. No, nothing. I just mean he seems… unstable,” you said. You had reached the edge of the woods now and you pulled a small bag out of the side pocket of your pack and unsnapped the loop over your knife hilt. You scanned the ground for edible plants and mushrooms.

“Ya, cuz he is,” Daryl agreed, glancing around to check for any sign of walkers. “I’ve known plenty of assholes like him before… He just seems to be better at foolin’ people about what he really is. At least he was. Promise me somethin’, though?” You looked up at the archer with a quizzical expression. “If he does anything to ya, tries anything ya don’t like—Hell, him or anyone else, ya tell me, alright?”

You suddenly lost your courage to hold his eyes in the wake of his protectiveness and you felt your cheeks burn a little with a blush. You averted your eyes back toward the ground but nodded. “What would I do without you, Daryl?”

He shrugged and hummed a vague and somewhat dismissive noise, even while he felt that fluttering between his lungs he always associated only with you.

You passed the time easily beside Daryl, and managed to find some wild mushrooms and berries that would add some much-needed variety and nutrition to everyone’s diet. You had just been thinking that it was probably time to head back when Daryl suddenly straightened up and looked skyward.

“We better get goin’,” he said. “S’gonna storm.”

No sooner had he spoken those words than the light seemed to shift and darken. You nodded. “Yeah. Those clouds don’t exactly look friendly.” You shoved the bag you had been collecting berries in back into your pack. “Let’s go.”

Daryl led the way quickly through the underbrush as thunder rolled in the distance. You both emerged from the tree line into the pasture just as lightening cracked and the sky opened up and unleashed a torrent of rain. You were both soaked in an instant and you let out a gasp of surprise at the coldness of the rain. Glancing over at Daryl, who was squinting at you through the downpour, you couldn’t help laughing at the situation as you tried to fend off shivers as the freezing rainwater rolled down your skin.

“C’mon! My tent is closest!” he yelled over the rain. You nodded and took off with him through the grey veil, running with abandon the way you had when you were a child trying to get home before dark. Your socks squished inside your inundated boots as they pounded the saturated ground. Your jeans were heavy with moisture and you felt your clothing and hair clinging to you as you moved.

When you arrived at Daryl’s campsite, he hastily unzipped his tent and held the cloth door open for you to pass inside first. You rushed in but tried to corral yourself in the middle of the tent so you wouldn’t shed rainwater all over his space. “Oh my God,” you said with a laugh, looking over at him as he zipped the door closed. “Soaked through and through.” He set his crossbow down at the edge of the tent and you gulped as you watched water droplets roll down from his wet hair and descend over his collarbone and strong arms. You tried your hardest to prevent a shiver from wracking through you, but to no avail. You were soaked and the autumn rain had been stinging with cold.

Daryl was trying his hardest to avoid looking at how your wet clothes were clinging to the curves and angles of your body and he was grateful for a distraction when he saw you shiver. He went to his duffel bag and pulled out a clean towel.

“Thanks,” you said, accepting it gratefully and trying to wring the water from your hair with it before wrapping it around your shoulders. “Not sure how much good it will do,” you said, laughing as you looked down at your sodden clothing and boots.

“Guess I shoulda pulled us outta there a little sooner,” he drawled, still avoiding looking at you because every time he did he felt like his brain started to go fuzzy and the warmth kindling in his chest was almost overwhelming.

It suddenly struck you how familiar this felt, but at the same time how different. “Not the first time I’ve hidden from the rain in here,” you said suddenly, not even really meaning to speak the thought aloud.

Daryl’s eyes snapped up to your face. That night had been on his mind since the moment the first raindrop hit him. He anxiously chewed his bottom lip and nodded.

The atmosphere between you in the small space, with the rain hammering on the outside of the tent, was sudden charged and heavy.

“But it feels different this time,” you said softly. “Nothing to hide from. Nowhere I’m supposed to be.”

Daryl’s blue eyes flickered between yours. “I shoulda known,” he said regretfully. “I shoulda done somethin’ about him sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile and shook your head. “That’s not on you. Any of it. You did enough.” You took a somewhat hesitant step toward him and Daryl watched as the towel slipped from around your shoulders and fell to the floor in a soft pile, forgotten in the intensity of the moment. “You do more than enough.” You studied his face, each fleck of blue in his eyes, the angles of his jaw. His shirt was clinging to his strong chest and you wanted more than anything at that moment to reach out and touch him, press your hands gently to him in the way he too deserved to be touched.

Daryl couldn’t look away from you. Your gaze, you were magnetic and he felt like he was being drawn in, pulled in. He was seconds away from tumbling into something he would be only too happy to get lost in.

But you suddenly turned and Daryl watched, puzzled, as you went to the upended box that served as a table beside his cot. You carefully moved aside a stray crossbow bolt and a wrinkled paperback and found what you were looking for; the pressed honeysuckle you had found that night, months ago, picked even longer ago before that. You laid the delicate, papery flower out on your palm before turning back to the archer.

He shifted a little anxiously as he saw what you had in your hand.

“You kept it. This whole time,” you said, glancing from the crimson bloom back up to meet his eyes, which were narrowed slightly at you as he waited to see where this was going, nervous but reeling with hopeful anticipation. “Why?” you asked simply. You were merely half a foot apart now, your palm held up flat between the two of you revealing the muted shades of green and red.

Daryl gulped down his nerves and shifted in a shrug. “Ya know why,” he said simply, his deep voice almost feeling like it was wrapping around you.

You stared back down at the flower in your hand. “It’s just a flower. It’s not—” But whatever you had been about to say was stopped by Daryl’s lips on yours. He clasped your face delicately in his hands and kissed you with an urgency that wouldn’t be ignored, couldn’t be.

At first you let out a soft noise of surprise, but Daryl’s nerves vanished as your lips gave softly beneath his and suddenly you were kissing him back eagerly. Your hands were on his sides, feeling the tensed muscles beneath his wet shirt and neither of you noticed the honeysuckle bloom floating gently to the floor as you sank into one another. You arched up onto your toes and looped your arms around his neck, pulling into him more deeply. Daryl’s hands lightly found your waist, your hips, one finally settling in the small of your back keeping you against him with gentle pressure. The world outside seemed to fall away and vanish and it was just you and him and the sound of the storm. The kiss was hungry and fervent but eventually softened and Daryl watched with disbelief as you pulled slightly away and your eyes opened, eyelashes fluttering, revealing the striking color of your irises which he was finally able to study as closely as he wanted, memorizing each hue, fleck, and ring of color. Your lips curved in a smile as you looked up at him and you were sure your cheeks were flushed, because wow. God you had wanted to do that for a long time, longer than you had admitted to yourself.

You clasped his face gently and ran your thumb along his strong jaw, subconsciously biting your bottom lip.

You felt one of his fingers lightly moving on your lower back, like he needed to feel you, really feel you to know this was real.

“Can we, uhh, do that again?” you said with a smile.

Daryl’s mouth twitched up on one side in a smile and he nudged his nose up at you. Before he could even lean in you had arched up on your toes again and pressed your lips to his. This kiss was soft and wanting and sent bolts of electricity through both of you, sending goosebumps rising on your skin that weren’t at all related to your soaked clothes.

You finally broke apart, breathless, and loved that Daryl’s arms were still around you. He seemed unwilling to let you go, and you hoped he never would. You were both all shy smiles for a moment until another shiver ran through you and Daryl felt it beneath his hands. One of his eyebrows immediately quirked down and he broke with you only long enough to collect the towel from the floor and wrap it around you again. His fingers then gently plucked the pressed honeysuckle from the canvas floor and he reached around you to replace it on his improvised nightstand. “Ya should go get some dry clothes on. Can’t have ya getting’ sick.”

Your eyes were still connected with his and you nodded vaguely. “Yeah. But I don’t want to leave,” you said quietly. Daryl chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“Ya ain’t gotta. I got plenty of dry clothes in here. C’mon,” he said, gently tapping his fingers where they were resting on your lower back. “We can both change. I’ll face this way. I won’t look. Promise.”

You smiled widely at his sweetness and nodded in agreement. The idea of cozying up in Daryl’s clothes sounded like the best thing you could imagine at that moment, wrapped in his smell, and safe and warm with him close by.

Soon you were both in dry clothes. Daryl’s eyes drank in the sight of you in his oversized shirt and gulped at the rush of heat pouring outward from his chest. He’d wanted this for so long and now that it was happening it still didn’t feel real. You went and sank down on Daryl’s cot, moving toward the back edge to make room for him, giving him an irresistible and expectant look. The archer sank down beside you, gently putting one of his arms underneath your head and draping the other over your waist, his fingertips lightly tickling your back. You both just couldn’t stop looking at the other, and the sound of the storm outside was the perfect backdrop.

You reached out and rested your palm lightly against his chest, feeling the expansion of his lungs and the steady cadence of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry it too me so long to figure this out,” you said softly.

Daryl only looked back at you with a soft expression. “Don’t be. I woulda waited as long as I had to. You’re worth it.”

You gave him a smile and a look of wonder before kissing him softly again. “So are you.”

[kar-krashew]

my someplace is here [AO3]

Five times Alec gay panics at a bus stop (ft. umbrellas, jackets, and a bus driver who really isn't paid enough for this).

rated: T

for @rainyhuman and @peachygos (ily!)

This is so cliché and over the top and I have absolutely no regrets <3. Sometimes (always) Alec is a himbo who is in love and his actions reflect this entirely. I don't control these things.

One.

Alec Lightwood doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but the man across the bus stop is absolutely gorgeous, and he’s twirling in the rain like a goddamn movie cliché, and Alec’s first thought is holy shit, so maybe Alec Lightwood is an idiot, and love at first sight is definitely a Thing.

Alec’s second thought is that the man is an absolute maniac— because really, the dude doesn’t even have a coat on— but Alec’s the one with an insane urge to kiss a stranger in the middle of the street, so, whatever; They’re probably both maniacs.

Alec’s third thought is that he’s about to miss his bus. Shit.

—

Two.

For the record, Alec does not usually walk into bus stop poles while staring at his phone, nor does he usually yell out “Ow, shit — !” if the aforementioned event does happen to occur. He does, however, end up doing both of these things at once a week later, and the stifled laughter behind him informs him that someone at the stop has definitely seen him, and he’s never going to live this down, ever.

“I’ve personally found that walking around an obstacle tends to be much more effective, darling,” the someone says, and Alec supposes that was called for, but hey, rude. He looks up to face the speaker, preparing himself to be offended, and—

Oh.

It’s the beautiful stranger from last time.

The man smirks at him from the bench, drenched again, and God, he’s even prettier up close. Brown eyes, smudged eyeliner, water trickling down his neck, with a tunic open down to his navel and pants that look painted on— Alec’s brain is short-circuiting.

“Hit your head a little hard there? Or do you just see something you like?”

“Huh?” Alec glances up from where he’s been staring at the man’s collarbones.

“I asked if you saw something you liked, pretty boy,” the man repeats.

Alec opens his mouth, presumably to say something that would be considered appropriate and normal in this situation, but he somehow misses his own memo and instead stammers out: “I, uh, I have an umbrella.”

He prays the rain will have mercy and just drown him on the spot.

The man’s brow quirks upwards in amusement. “Excuse me?”

Alec, unfortunately, is still alive, so he must now suffer the embarrassment he’s managed to cause himself and find a way to explain whatever has just come out of his mouth. He ducks his head, trying to avoid eye contact as he speaks. “If you want it,” he elaborates, “I have an umbrella I can give you.”

The stranger just looks at him for a moment. Alec’s sure he’s going to be told to fuck off (which would be a perfectly understandable reaction and probably have been his own in this situation) but after another second, the man defies all of his expectations and grins, so wide that it steals a little of Alec’s breath away.

“Handsome and chivalrous, I see. Do you make a habit of offering your belongings to strangers?” the guy asks. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll need it later. Perhaps you should rescind your offer, I promise I won’t harbor any grudges.”

“I have a coat,” Alec insists, “and you’re. . .” —incredibly attractive, doing things to my brain function— “more in need of its services.”

He’s not really sure why he’s so adamant about this, especially since the man is right: he will be needing the umbrella later, but his pride’s involved now, and he hasn’t really been thinking things through for the past ten minutes anyway. He might as well argue about his dumb umbrella with a beautiful man at a bus stop.

“I suppose you’re right,” comes the man’s response. He taps painted nails against his chin as he hums. “I’m not in much of a position to refuse, now, am I? Though, I doubt I’d refuse any position with you involved,” he winks. “But, yes, if you’re being serious, I shall gladly accept your umbrella.”

Alec blinks. He honestly did not think that argument would’ve worked. (He chooses to ignore the blatant innuendo to preserve his sanity for now.)

“Well?” the man prompts.

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Really, the whole zoning-out-while-staring-at-the-hot-guy thing is going to become a problem very fast if Alec keeps doing it every two minutes. He gathers his thoughts enough to fumble with the umbrella in his hand and give it to the man, who accepts it with a graceful flourish.

“I’m Magnus Bane, by the way,” the man offers. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“I’m Alec. Lightwood. My name’s Alec Lightwood.”

Magnus holds out a ring-covered hand from where he’s sitting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alec. Short for Alexander, I presume?”

“Yeah,” Alec nods. He reaches out to shake Magnus’s hand, adding, “but no one really calls me that.”

Magnus’s smile turns into something incredibly flirty, and Alec can feel his cheeks heating up. “I like to be special, Alexander,” the other says, “and it suits you far better.”

Alec’s not really sure how to respond to that, because the way Magnus says his name is doing things to him, and that, combined with the fact that he’s still clutching Magnus’s soft hand in his own, is probably going to give him a heart attack. He’s about to say something decidedly stupid about Magnus already being special and perfect and amazing when the bus saves him from humiliation and pulls up next to them.

Alec releases Magnus’s grip to awkwardly gesture at the vehicle. “I should really. . . you know,” he trails off, and Magnus blinks at him for a second, surprised.

“Oh, right! You should get going, places to be and all that.” He waves his hand through the air dismissively. “I’ll return your umbrella to you next week, same time?”

Alec smiles dopily as he nods. “That sounds great.” He takes a step back. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Of course.” Magnus gives him a little wave. “It was lovely to meet you, Alexander. Safe travels.”

“Thanks, uh, you too.”

Having to walk home in the rain is so worth it.

—

Three.

Izzy laughs at Alec for the entire week when she finds out why his umbrella’s been missing, then makes it worse by telling Jace, who gives Alec an incredibly long-winded speech about umbrellas as metaphors for protection during sex or something. He also deigns to throw a condom at Alec’s face when he leaves to get the bus, which sends Izzy into another bout of cackling laughter.

They’re both assholes, and Alec is never going to cover for them at family dinners ever again.

So he’s scrolling through his phone at the bus stop, trying his best to ignore the increasingly obscene texts his siblings are sending him, when Magnus shows up, bright and beaming and decidedly dry this time, though he’s still not wearing a jacket despite the cold.

And dear lord. If Alec thought Magnus looked gorgeous while soaked in rainwater, this is something else entirely. Gold-streaked hair, unbuttoned shirt, immaculate matching eyeshadow— fuck.

“Alexander!” Magnus greets. He sits down beside Alec on the bench, and grins as he hands over Alec’s umbrella. “Finally a little dry, hm? Though I might’ve underestimated the cold and left my coat back home.”

“Yeah,” Alec says. “Not that you were wearing one when it was raining.” He’s trying his best not to stare at Magnus’s mouth, but the man is very close to Alec’s face right now, and he cannot be blamed if his gaze slips a few times, okay? He’s only human.

Magnus shrugs, drawing Alec’s sight to his shoulders instead. “Coats are irrelevant, anyway. I haven’t worn mine all week, so I might as well continue the trend,” he remarks, and Alec snorts.

“I don’t think that’s as impressive as you think it is. You sound like a petulant toddler. How have you not had, like, five colds by now?” he says. Magnus feigns a pout in response, and Alec stifles a laugh.

“Such cruelty, Alexander!” Magnus replies, “Ah, I suppose I’ll just have to suffer the elements until I’m finally back home again, since no one seems to harbor any sympathy for me. Woe is me, and all that.” He tightens his hands around his biceps, rubbing up and down to warm himself up while sighing dramatically, and Alec, well,

Alec gets a really stupid idea.

“Do you want my jacket?” he asks. “I won’t be out in the cold for that long, and I’m wearing a much warmer shirt than you are.”

Magnus’s lips part in surprise as something conflicted flashes behind his eyes. “I—” he starts, then clears his throat. “I wasn’t being serious, darling. That’s your jacket.”

“Is that a no?”

There’s a moment of silence before Magnus shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I, uh, I’d love that.”

Alec beams, and Magnus clears his throat again. “You’re horribly trusting of someone you’ve only met twice,” he says, voice a little strangled, but Alec just shrugs as he begins to wrestle the black fabric off of his shoulders.

“It’s just a jacket,” he explains, leaning closer to drape it over Magnus, “Even if I never got it back, at least you wouldn’t freeze to death on your way to wherever you’re headed.” He fixes the lapels dutifully, and smiles to himself. “Besides, you’ve already given me my umbrella. I trust you.”

“Is that so,” Magnus answers weakly, which prompts Alec to look up from his fiddling, and oh wow, their mouths are so close to each other’s.

If Magnus inches in just a little bit closer, then they’d—

They’d—

“Um!” Alec jerks backwards, face flushing, “Yes, uh,” he stammers, trying not to look overwhelmed. It’s not going great, because moving back means that he’s now being treated to the sight of Magnus in Alec’s jacket, and he’s having some issues thinking properly right now. It swallows Magnus’s wrists almost entirely and looks far too plain for his expensive printed shirt, but fuck. It’s possible that Alec didn’t think this through.

Magnus opens his mouth, hopefully to tell Alec to kiss him but also probably to tell him to fuck completely off for whatever move they almost pulled, but the bus suddenly turns the corner and pulls into view, cutting him off.

Alec’s not sure whether he’s relieved or furious about this.

“Next week, then,” he ventures. Magnus blinks at him slowly, then nods.

“Yes, of course,” he smiles softly. “Next week.”

—

Four.

“Remind me again, why your presence is necessary today?” Alec grits through his teeth, tightly gripping his umbrella as the rain pours down on them. Izzy punches his arm, not even looking up from her phone as she does so, where she is no doubt giving Jace a play-by-play of Alec’s every action as they walk towards the bus stop.

“Because I’m never one to miss out on good blackmail content,” she replies, which is true. She’s got about four folder’s worth of content of “embarrassing shit Alec has done” on her phone, most of it consisting of his painful attempts at being straight in high school, and Alec’s pretty sure she’s started a fifth, probably titled “Alec’s horrible attempts at flirting with men,” which isn’t that much better than the straight one. Alec is debating turning around and just walking to his destination so that his sister won’t be able to gain more content for her virtual blackmail folders, which is exactly when Magnus comes into Alec’s field of vision.

Alec freezes in his tracks. Holy shit.

Magnus is standing in the center of the street again, drenched from head to toe with his head thrown back . The streetlights illuminate him from above, highlighting the curve of his neck and the colored streaks in his hair as he laughs to himself, staring up at the stars.

He looks ethereal. Alec’s never been one for the romantics, but he’s pretty sure this is what poets mean when they talk about true love and angels and immortal moments in time.

“Oh, he’s hot,” Izzy whispers approvingly. Alec agrees, because, obviously, but he pretends he’s unaffected and straightens his face.

“He’s probably freezing,” he says instead. Izzy rolls her eyes— she gets that from him, he really should stop doing that— and then, before Alec can stop her, calls out.

“Hey! Hot Umbrella Guy!”

What the fuck.

“Are you insane?” Alec hisses. He was trying to look nonchalant and not like the totally lovestruck idiot he is, but now Izzy is waving at Magnus like a maniac and Magnus has noticed them and is walking towards them and Alec is going to die. He’s going to write Izzy out of his will and then he is going to collapse into a heap of embarrassment and gay panic right here, and it’s going to be his sister’s fault.

“Relax a little, hermano,” Izzy replies, and before Alec can provide her with an alphabetized list for every reason he cannot relax, Magnus is already standing before them, smiling as water trickles from his hair.

God, he’s beautiful.

“Hello, hello!” he greets. Alec suddenly notices that Magnus is wearing Alec’s jacket, which is, well. Something. (Izzy is never going to let him live this down, and also Alec is having a very hard time thinking any thoughts.)

Magnus seems to notice Alec’s wandering line of sight, following it and glancing down, eyes widening. “Oh my god, I was fully intending to return this to you, I’m so sorry. I got a little distracted. I’ll have it cleaned and returned to you next time, I promise,” he explains. Alec shakes his head.

“No worries,” he manages, cutting himself off before he says something even stupider like “it’s yours forever” or “marry me” or something, and Izzy snorts from beside him. Alec hates her.

“Thank you,” Magnus says, then turns to face Izzy, “And what may I call you, dear?”

“I like him,” Izzy declares, in what Alec assumes is meant to be a reassuring whisper but instead ends up being incredibly loud, “I’m Izzy, Alec’s sister. And I assume you’re the elusive Magnus I’ve heard so much about?”

“Izzy,” Alec warns. Magnus smirks and shakes her hand.

“The one and only,” he confirms. There’s a mischievous sort of glint in his eye as he glances back up at Alec, and Alec’s not sure how he feels about Magnus and his sister already getting along so well, but he’s sure it can’t lead anywhere good.

“Well, Isabelle,” Magnus says, “If I asked him, do you think your brother would join me for a dance?”

Alec chokes. “What?” he splutters. Magnus turns his grin to face him.

“If I asked, Alexander, would you join me for a dance?”

“I—” Alec starts, staring down at the hand Magnus has outstretched in front of him. There are so many reasons he should say no, and so many reasons this is a bad idea, but also the most beautiful man Alec has ever seen is holding his hand out for him to take, and what else is he supposed to do? “Yeah,” he says. “Sure.”

The first thing Alec notices is how soft Magnus’s hand is in his as he pulls him out into the rain, laughing as it hits his face again, and Alec can’t help but laugh along even as water soaks into his shoes and drenches into his socks. There’s something so childish about it; giggling and spinning in an empty street without any music, holding hands like toddlers, and Alec wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re thinking too much,” Magnus murmurs, then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. “It’s about being in the moment.”

Alec smiles. If only he knew, all he’s thinking about is this moment: how the water catches in Magnus’s lashes, how he’s humming something entirely off-key under his breath, the way he presses against Alec’s chest. Fuck. Alec’s known this man for three days, and he’s halfway in love already.

He closes his eyes against the rain, too, and smiles at the thought: loving a man like Magnus Bane.

Yeah, he could get used to that.

—

Five.

When Alec reaches the bus stop today, Magnus is nowhere to be seen and Alec’s jacket is sitting in a bag at the bus stop with a little post it signed with the letter “M.”

It’s fine, Alec tells himself. Magnus is probably just busy with something else, and this has nothing to do with the fact that Alec froze up awkwardly when Magnus kissed him on the cheek last week, to the point where Magnus had to nervously laugh it off because Alec was too busy panicking.

It’s a flimsy argument, but it keeps Alec from losing his mind for about fifteen minutes until the bus pulls up early and Alec realizes that this is it. He’s not going to see Magnus this week— maybe not ever again, if Magnus has decided that Alec’s gay panic is not worth his time, and Alec wouldn’t even blame him.

God, he feels so stupid. If he hadn’t acted like a complete idiot last time, then he would’ve at least had some closure.

“Sir, are you getting on or are you waiting for another bus?”

Alec blinks, glancing up to see the bus driver raising her eyebrow at him. “Right, sorry, give me just a mo—”

“Alec!”

It can’t be.

“Alexander!”

Alec spins on his heel, turning to face whoever called his name, and oh my god, it’s Magnus. He’s running up to the bus stop, waving frantically, and Alec is overcome with such a large wave of relief that he forgets that the bus driver’s been waiting for him for like five minutes now and he climbs off and runs towards Magnus, only vaguely registering the sound of the bus leaving without him. He doesn’t even care; Magnus is standing right in front of him, panting heavily but still so beautiful and perfect, and Alec would walk home everyday if he got to see Magnus because of it.

“Alexander,” Magnus huffs, gathering his breath. He absentmindedly reaches out to grab Alec’s shoulder, and Alec immediately wraps his arms around his waist to stabilize him. “Oh lord, one second, I ran all the way here.”

“I thought you were gone,” Alec says, still holding onto him. “You left the jacket and I thought—” he trails off.

Magnus frowns. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I thought I’d made you uncomfortable last week and didn’t want to make it worse, but I didn’t realize how rude not showing up would be. I know you probably don’t feel the same way but perhaps we can still be friends? I can be completely professional about it, though you seem to have just missed your bus—”

Alec grabs Magnus’s tunic (because he’s still not wearing a jacket, Jesus Christ) and kisses him.

Magnus blinks at him when they pull away. “Oh,” he says, a little breathless, and Alec smiles.

“I don’t want to be professional about it,” he admits.

“Oh. . .”

Magnus still seems shell-shocked, so Alec makes a move to let go of him, shifting his arm away from Magnus’s waist, but then Magnus leans back in and presses his mouth back to Alec’s and oh, nevermind then.

Alec’s not sure how long they spend there, kissing like handsy teenagers under the roof of the bus stop, but he’s aware of a few cars passing (and possibly another bus), so he’s not ignorant of the fact that it’s definitely been a while when they finally pull away for more than a second. Magnus is staring at his mouth when they part, though, which is not helping Alec’s resolve to actually have a conversation about this.

“We should talk,” he manages, and Magnus nods, still staring at his mouth.

“Right,” he agrees. “That would be a wise course of action.” His eyes flick upwards for just a moment, and something flickers behind them before he beams. “My place is two stops away, if you’d like to talk there. Perhaps we can wait for the next bus together, since we seemed to have missed the one I usually take? It might take a while, though.”

Ah. Alec swallows back a grin of his own. “Of course,” he replies, “I don’t suppose you know any way to keep us busy till then?”

“I’m sure I could think of something.”

(The bus comes late, and they still somehow almost miss it. Alec refuses to take any blame for this.)

—

+ One.

Alec Lightwood didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the man standing at the bus stop is smiling softly at him as he approaches, twirling an umbrella between his hands as he waits, and Alec’s first thought is holy shit, so maybe Alec Lightwood was an idiot, because what else could it have been?

“Hello, stranger,” the man says when Alec finally reaches the stop. He glances down, taking in Alec’s rain-soaked button down and slacks, and grins. “Forget your umbrella back home?”

Alec laughs. “My coat, too,” he agrees. “I got distracted this morning.”

Magnus hums, leaning in to kiss the rain off of Alec’s mouth, and Alec smiles into it, tasting the faint wax of lipstick and the salt of the rain. “Must’ve been a pretty good distraction.”

“Yeah,” Alec says. He leans in again, because he can. They have time. “He is.”

Magnus’s lips have got a lovely little tilt to them by the time they pull away, tint slightly smudged from Alec’s attention, and he’s never looked more beautiful, even with the dingy lighting of the shitty bus stop they’re standing under.

God, Alec loves him. He feels a little stupid with the feeling, and he can’t help but step back out onto the rain, holding out his hand.

“Hey,” he murmurs. Magnus’s eyes light up with understanding. “Care to join me for a dance?” And sure, Alec’s shit at dancing, and sure, they have to get on the bus sopping wet minutes later, but they’re both giggling like idiots and clutching the umbrella together between their intertwined hands and Alec’s got a little ring box in his pocket just waiting for the right moment, so what else matters?

They’ll probably have to invite the bus driver to the wedding, though. It’s only fair.