#I am semi happy with it but knew if I didn’t post it now I’d never post it

[lechatnoir1918]

Finally finished a new drawing, and one I’ve been meaning to do for 3.5 years. The full one is on AO3 ☺️

[roanniom]

Animals

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You and Eddie go camping with Steve and Robin, but when you both go off to get something from the car...you end up getting frisky. That’s it. That’s the fic. 

Note: This was born both from a request from @boomhauer who said “I’d be totally down for Eddie getting freaky on the hood of a car” as well as a post I made earlier today about pet names Eddie would call you. As you shall see, I had him use a record amount and I am rightfully proud of myself. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex / PIV sex / semi-public sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk but really more humorous than anything, alcohol and drug consumption 

~*~

Eddie Munson is a menace. You know this to be true, and you have known it since you met him. But getting into a relationship with him opened you up to a whole new level of extreme. Even though you’d been close friends for years, you’re only just learning now that he’d been holding back facets of his personality. And you’re more than happy to discovery them - more Eddie just meant more to love.

Which is how you find yourself tipsy and traipsing through the woods with Eddie draped around you from behind. You squeal as he rests way too much of his weight on you, arms loosely slung around your shoulders, his chest to your back.

You’re on a camping trip with Steve and Robin, but you all had run out of the first case of beer that you’d packed for the night. Eddie had chivalrously volunteered to make the trek back down the hill to where you all had parked your cars to grab the extra case he’d left in the van. Of course, you’d immediately jumped up and volunteered yourself as bodyguard and guide.

“After all, you can be directionally challenged and the woods are dangerous, pretty boy,” you’d cooed, stepping forward to encircling him in your possessive embrace. He’d smirked down at you.

“Gonna keep me safe, my warrior Princess?”

You’d stepped onto tiptoes and pulled him down for a kiss, whispering against his lips, “I’d slay dragons for you, Munson.”

“Ooookay, so I’m gonna need about four more beers if I’m gonna have to deal with this sickening nerd shit for the rest of the night.” Steve’s voice had broken through your moment, along with the sound of Robin fake gagging.

“Yeah you guys are cute and stuff but can you be cute while, I don’t know, actually getting the beer?” Robin had whined. You’d flipped them both off and grabbed Eddie by the front of the shirt, marching defiantly into the woods while Eddie had thrown a shrug and a wink over his shoulder at your shared friends.

And now you’re stumbling through the trees, feeling Eddie plaster sloppy kisses down the side of your neck from behind. You cause him to almost trip as you come to an abrupt stop, but even that doesn’t cause him to miss a beat in his assault on your skin.

“Got us lost, baby? I thought you knew the way,” he teases between wet, sucking kisses. You sigh in frustration even as you tilt your head to the side to give him more access.

“I didn’t get us lost, it’s just…hard to concentrate when you’re…fuck.” You’re laughing in spite of yourself as you struggle to speak, words coming out with a moaning pitch.

“When I’m ‘fuck’?” Eddie questions. He takes advantage of your current stand still to push your back up against the nearest tree. He edges your feel apart and slots his thigh between your legs leaning in to continue his mauling kisses down the front of your throat this time. “Is that an inarticulate way of saying I’m ‘sex literally embodied’?”

“No, you’re a fucking gremlin, Munson,” you gasp out while grasping tightly on his messy hair. Eddie hisses, both from the sting and with faux incredulity.

“You’re turned on by gremlins? That’s kinda sick, baby. Maybe I should let the town know that you’re the freak, not me— ” You cut him off by yanking him down to your level and beginning to kiss the life out of him. He groans loudly into your open mouth and you register that the volume of his sounds has probably scared away any nearby nocturnal wildlife.

You and Eddie are the things that go bump in the night.

Your hand slides down Eddies chest to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his skin below. Just as you do that he lifts his knee so that his thigh slots higher up between your thighs, giving your rolling pelvis something to grind against. You pull away from his mouth to pant heavily.

“Okay fuck, sue me. You’re sex embodied. You happy?” you groan. Eddie chuckles and maintains eye contact as his hands on your waist guide your hips to grind against his thigh.

“Ecstatic. That’s all I wanted.”

Pleasure courses through your veins and you slide your hand down further from Eddie’s chest to meet your favorite package. Straining in his jeans.

“Anything to say about me, pretty boy?” you fish with mischief gleaming in your eyes. Eddie’s lips are parted as he grunts in response to the way you’ve begun palming the outline of his member.

“You’re ethereal. Exquisite. My goddess divine,” Eddie rambles, placing kissing on your throat, jaw, and collar bone between each descriptor. You throw your head back and laugh.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Would ya?”

You bite your lip and nod coyly. As if you aren’t practically jerking him off through his jeans already. As if you aren’t already rubbing yourself to pleasure against his thigh.

Without warning Eddie peels you off the tree he had you pressed against and hauls you forward through the forest.

“Where are we going?” you ask breathlessly, holding onto his arm for dear life as he practically runs.

“The van,” he says as if it was the most obvious answer ever. You dig your heels into the ground to try and make him stop, giggling furiously.

“The van’s that way, you idiot!” you pull him the opposite way. “I fucking told you you’re directionally challenge. Thank god I’m here.”

“My hero!” Eddie pretends to fake swoon onto you and you shove his body away with a smile, running the last few meters into the clearing where the little pull off parking area was which harbored your cars. Eddie chases after you, practically tackling when you reach the van, making you squeal.

“Robin and Steve are waiting...oh...waiting for the beers!” you try your best to gasp out as Eddie descends on your lips, hands squeezing you all over. He’s got you pressed into the side of his van, much more purposefully than he had pressed you against the tree.

“Robin and Steve are drunk,” Eddie replies, moving to sloppily kiss your jaw.

“And you aren’t?” you challenge, jutting your chin up to coax him down to your neck. He happily obliges.

“Drunk on you.”

“That’s cheesy as fuck.”

“Yeah? Let’s see if your pussy agrees with that sentiment.” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at rucks up your skirt, pawing at the front of your panties. He’s met with even more wetness than he expected and his eyes go wide with glee. “Exactly as I thought. This pussy is on my side.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, rolling your eyes. But your hands betray you, fingers digging into his arms as Eddie’s digits slip past the hem of your panties to slide through the waiting slick beyond.

“She doesn’t think I’m ridiculous.”

“You are NOT anthropomorphizing my pussy right now.”

“She’s upset you’ve been neglecting her,” Eddie says with a pout, eyes puppy-dog-round even as his fingertip swirls sinfully around your clit. Your hips buck into his hand.

“H-how could I have neglected he - I mean it,” you add on pointedly, glaring daggers at him. Eddie licks his lips which pull up in a smirk.

“She’s so wet and needy and I’ve been right here all along. It’s a crime you didn’t ask me to make it go away.” He leans forward and mouths wetly at your collar bone, pulling down the sagging off-the-shoulder neckline of your oversized sweater.

“Okay stop talking about my pussy like that,” you command without any heat. Eddie nods sympathetically.

“Alright I hear you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Eddie breathes, nosing into the valley of your cleavage. Your head rolls back against the side of the van as Eddie works his finger inside you, the heel of his palm taking over applying pressure on your clit.

“Mmm thank you.” It is gratitude both for the pleasure he is bestowing upon you and for his promise to stop being ridiculous.

“Besides, I need to show some love to my other two favorite girls,” Eddie murmurs sweetly, pulling away from you long enough to lift the lower hem of your sweater up over your breasts.

“Wait, what?”

Eddie’s free hand is on your bare tits immediately, lifting and squeezing and molding his palm against the plush flesh. You groan.

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

“Jesus Christ yourself, sugar tits. You want me to stop being ridiculous, you shoulda had a less spectacular rack.” His voice is affecting a cliche jock-esque accent and he gives you a roguish wink, which makes you swiftly smack him upside the head. He lets out a moan.

“Fucking of course you like getting smacked,” you laugh in frustration. Eddie nods his head vigorously.

“Hit me harder. Come on baby, that the best you can do?”

“Eddie!” you’re rolling your eyes again, but this time they roll back because he’s added another finger inside you. He’s pumping with intention now and your hips roll and your back arches so that your tits are more fully pressed into his touch.

“Slap me? How about choke me a little - just a little!” He’s barely able to get the words out himself through his own gleeful laughter. Deep down you know he’s only partially joking. You’ve seen the way he reacts when your nails dig into his skin. The way his eyes almost cross when you tug too hard on his curls. But something to dig into another night. Because now you’re already rocketing towards that great precipice.

“Fuck, princess. That’s it. Give it to me.” He’s talking about your orgasm. He owns it. It’s his. So you acquiesce. You cum all over his fingers, abdomen stuttering with the force of the contractions as waves of pleasure ricochet throughout your body. You cry out his name and he does his best to muffle the sound by kissing you but you’re sure the woodland animals, and Steve and Robin, and fuck - even god himself - must have heard you.

You’ve barely started to come back to your senses when you feel your back being pressed down against cool metal. Your skirt is bunched up around your waist and your sweater is still gathered up under your under arms, your tits still exposed. Eddie stands between your thighs, ripping open his belt buckle and yanking down his pants and boxers. He pulls out his swollen, hardened cock and strokes it a few times, his other hand pressing down on the crease between your pelvis and your thigh to keep you open and exposed to him.

“Fuck yesss,” he exhales, as if the sight of your practically transparent wet panties stretched across your pussy lips is the exact kind of relief he needs after a hard day. And maybe that’s not too far off. He has been hard practically all day.

Watching Eddie fist his cock is mesmerizing and you spread yourself open even further, welcoming him in. When the outer sides of your thighs also meet cold metal, however, you begin to recognize your surroundings.

“Eddie...” you say as a warning.

“Yeah, my beloved?” he singsongs down at you. He leans over, one arm supporting him beside your head and the other guiding the tip of his cock into your folds.

“We’re...we’re on the hood of a car.” You gasp when suddenly Eddie slams forward, sheathing himself all the way inside you. A million emotions flicker across his contorting face as he tries to calm himself down from the initial squeeze and how good it felt to be inside you again.

“That we are, yes,” he hums, eyes closed against the pleasure.

Your head turns wildly from one side to the other for a full assessment. Your own eyes fly open wide.

“You’re fucking me on the hood of Steve’s car?!”

“Well yeah. The hood of the van is too high up. Wouldn’t be able to get the right angle.” He gives this explanation as if the original question is silly and not worth his time. As he begins to find a rhythm with his thrusts, he places a sweet kiss to your cheek and then forehead. “And I know my baby needs the best angle, isn’t that right?”

“Eddie I can’t fucking believe - oh my god.” He shifts between your legs and tilts his pelvis so that his next thrust hits right at the spot that has you seeing stars. He clocks this positive reaction and doubles down, dedicating all his force and energy on hitting repeatedly into that place. Your fingers scrabble against his shoulders for purchase. “Oh my fucking god.”

“You were saying?” Eddie taunts. Sweat has begun to bead on his brow and he’s panting openly over you now. His thrusts are so hard Steve’s car begins to bounce on it suspension. Your mouth opens and closes a few times but no further words can come out, neither praise nor reprimand. Eddie definitely notices this. “Aw, sweetie. A few minutes with my cock in you and I’ve already fucked you dumb, huh? What happened to that mouth?”

You do your best to glare at him, but your eyes begin rolling back of their own volition. Eddie’s grinning down at you now.

“It’s hot, right? Fucking on Harrington’s car?” He leans further down over you, burying his face in your neck as he doubles his efforts pistoning his cock in and out of you. “Now any time he pulls up you’ll have to remember this. You, flat on your back. Smudging this nice car. Taking my cock so well.”

You let out a hiccupping moan, nodding. Eddie kisses your neck and tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you up and down on the surface of the hood now so that your body crashes into his with each forward thrust of his hips. Your pelvises meeting each time with toe-curling force.

You begin chanting his name, in a whisper this time. A big difference from earlier when you screamed his name as he fingered you. The pressure is intense. The situation is too damn wrong and hot and sexy. His lips are stationed at your ear so you can hear every one of his strangled breaths, his moans, even a full on whimper or two.

“Eddie...so...good...I’m...”

“Mmm again, baby? Is it my fucking birthday? C’mon, give it to me again, fuck.”

His words are fucking ridiculous, yet again, and you end up cumming and laughing at the same time. A combination that has you spasming and clamping down on his cock in a way that has Eddie practically convulsing and shouting out. His own release takes him utterly by surprise and he thrusts into you a few more times before biting down on your shoulder and anchoring you to him by your waist. His cock plunges deep inside you and twitches, painting your inner walls. He grunts against you until his cock stills, at which point he laves his tongue across the indents his teeth left on your shoulder.

“I....you...” you struggle to breathe out as you yet again return down to earth from your high. You gaze unseeingly up at the sky above him, your hands squeezing weakly at his back. “I think you killed me.”

“I killed you? I think you squeezed my soul out of my fucking dick, baby,” Eddie barks with a laugh.

“And here I was supposed to protect you,” you joke with a shaky chuckle. Eddie lifts up, propping his hand against the car so he has enough room to press a sweet kiss to your bruised lips.

“You can steal anytime, you beautiful siren.” You kiss him back with feeling, wincing when he pulls out of you and dropping your head back down against the hood. Eddie whistles low and you look up just as he begins pushing his cum back into your dripping hole. 

“Eddie!” you admonish. He gives you a wolfish grin. 

“What? You can’t leak cum all over Steve’s car. What are we, animals?”

He lunges forward and swallows your answering laughter before it, too, can fill up the night air.

~*~

When you arrive back at the campsite, the case of beer tucked under one of Eddie’s arms, you tucked under the other, you’re greeted by a swirling cloud of musky smoke. Robin and Steve peer back at you with dumb smiles and bleary eyes, Steve’s head resting in Robin’s lap.

“Is that from my stash, Harrington?” Eddie asks, dropping the case the floor and pulling two cans out, handing you one. Though it’s an accusation, Eddie is smiling and there’s only amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, you brought the good shit. Thanks for that,” Steve says, his dopey grin getting even wider. He passes the joint he’s holding up to Robin, who takes a long drag. When she exhales, she coughs a little.

“We didn’t think you’d mind. Since you were taking a fucking lifetime with the beer.”

You busy yourself cracking your beer open, sitting down on an open log next to Eddie and looking anywhere but at your friends, willing your embarrassment not to consume you.

“It was a long walk to the car,” Eddie says with a shrug, tossing his arm back around your shoulders and taking a sip of his own beer.

“Yeah and an even longer couple orgasms,” Steve says with a cheshire grin. Robin slaps his forehead lightly and he flinches. “What? Those sounds were spread out. What’d you do, fuck in the forest and then fuck in your van with the doors open?”

You know his loose lips are a product of his high but you gape at Steve’s forwardness, unable to respond. Eddie doesn’t have the same problem. He laughs and shrugs again.

“Well actually we - ,” but he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you immediately slap your hand over his mouth.

“Say another word, Eddie Munson, and I’ll hurt you in a way you won’t find hot.”

“Ooo, kinky,” Robin pipes up, wiggling her eyebrows. She and Steve dissolve into a fit of giggles that builds and builds until all four of you are practically rolling around laughing on the forest floor. The sounds of your mirth definitely scaring away any creeping and crawling creatures who could have considered your little campsite.

Because all four of you are the things that go bump in the night.

~*~

Taglist: @sacklerscumrag @millenialcatlady @theoncrayjoy @cowboy-kylo

@copycatkillerfics @boomhauer @boostilinski @wroteclassicaly @eddiesprincess86 @bambigoth-sims   @chaoschaoswriting  @lassie-bird  @softpshycopath @katsukis1wife @spookyreidd  

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Backseat (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: BestFriend!Minho x F.Reader Themes: Smut | Best Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~1k | AO3 Warnings: graphic depictions of intercourse (pwp. smut warnings under the cut). Summary: Unable to wait a single second longer, you found yourself laying in the back of your best friend’s car.

Author’s Note: happy new year ! first piece posted in 2023 and it’s not a fantasy AU? wow, a shocker. i am working on a bigger piece right now, but words aren’t coming as easy as i’d like them to (it’s moving tho, slowly, but surely), so i wrote this as a bit of a warm up and also because i am weak as hell. if you’re reading this, hope you enjoy !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: oral [F.Rec], semi-public/car sex, protected penetration [piv], slight exhibitionism?

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“Minho… Oh, fuck–”

Spending your Friday evening at the beach wasn’t uncommon. What was uncommon was having your best friend’s head between your legs, with his mouth on your clit and two fingers knuckle deep into you, giving you some toe-curling head on the backseat of his car.

You usually came here together to just hang out and try to relax from the long week, to enjoy the sound of the waves and the darkness of the night. It had become a routine of sorts, especially this past year. Minho had been your friend for a few years now, what started as a simple online partnership to defeat raids more efficiently in a game you both played turned into this full blown friendship.

Minho eventually became your best friend when you finally moved closer to him, when you finally got to meet him frequently in person and got to be more present in his life. Honestly, you weren’t sure how it happened, but one random Tuesday morning after staying over at his place, the moment you saw him come out of his room, his face swollen with sleep and his hair tousled, it hit you like a ton of bricks. You had developed a crush on him… You were crushing on him… Hard. And for the longest time, you thought it was one-sided.

Tonight, you weren’t really sure how it happened, either. You were sitting thigh against thigh on the breakwater, talking about nothing in particular until suddenly Minho dropped the most random ‘can I kiss you?’ to which you replied ‘yes’ almost in a heartbeat. And before you knew it, you were here, panting, crammed on the backseat of his car as he diligently lapped you up.

It had taken Minho a while to find the right motions, but once he did you just couldn’t stop the noises that were coming out of your mouth anymore. His tongue added just the right pressure on your clit, his fingers curled against your sweet spot, and that, added to the occasional groan coming out of his mouth and the fact that it was him between your legs, had you close to your high–almost embarrassingly quickly, if you might add.

Every time you tightened your grip on Minho’s hair, he did the same on your thigh, making you dizzy with the strength of his grip and just the overall feel of his touch, and before you knew it, you were trembling with your release, moaning his name as his tongue and his fingers helped you enjoy every single wave of your pleasure until you were whining in oversensitivity and pushing on his head to get his mouth off of you.

Making his way up your body, Minho kissed your lower belly, your stomach, between your breasts, until finally, he found your mouth. You were panting, breathless, and you could hear a ringing in your ears, but that didn’t stop you from cupping his cheeks and kissing him back, tasting yourself on his tongue and swallowing every single sound that slipped out of his mouth.

“Want you…” Minho mumbled against your lips, sounding just as worked up as you felt.

“Have me…” Was all you mumbled back, pecking his lips one last time before he pulled away from you to blindly reach for the bum bag he’d discarded on the driver’s seat a few hours earlier.

“This might be a bit difficult…” Minho chuckled once he fished his wallet out of his bum bag and pulled a condom out of it.

“We’re about to have sex in a car, wasn’t really expecting anything else”, you chuckled, watching as he tore the packet open and slid the latex over his length.

Minho scoffed, but you could faintly see the smirk on his face with the barely there illumination of the faraway lights by the coast. “We’re only having sex in this car because someone couldn’t wait until I got them home”.

“Didn’t see you complaining–Woa!” Your sentence cut short as Minho suddenly took a hold of your hips and pulled you closer to him, setting himself between your legs.

“How could I complain when the prettiest girl was begging me to fuck her? I’m just a weak man with a crush, baby”, Minho chuckled, holding himself up with a hand next to your head and dragging the tip of his length over your folds, lightly teasing your clit with it only to finally line himself with your entrance.

Licking his lips, Minho paused for a moment, looking you in the eyes. “You sure about this?”

You cupped his cheek, lightly stroking shapes on his skin with your thumb. “Yes”.

Slowly, carefully, Minho entered you, centimetre after centimetre diligently stretching your walls around him. You bit your lower lip to suppress a whimper. You felt like whimpering not because it hurt–even if you hadn’t done this in a long time, you were so aroused your warmth was just effortlessly letting him in–but because you had spent so long dreaming of this moment you just couldn’t hold back any sound.

“Fucking hell…” As soon as Minho bottomed out, he lowered himself, propping his weight on his elbow as his mouth seeked yours, kissing you deeply. “Warm…”

You just hummed, kissing him just as intensely as he did. He, too, was warm within you, and the feeling had your mind fogging with desire immediately. With his hand holding your head both to keep you in place and to prevent you from hitting yourself against the rear door, Minho started to move, rocking his hips at a slow pace, gradually building his tempo until you were once again a whiny, whimpering mess under him.

Pretty, soft, warm, so good, so tight, heavenly, Minho just kept mumbling random words against your skin as he fucked into you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your chest, anywhere he could and as much as he could within the tight space you were in. The windows of his car fogged up quickly, the entire vehicle was rocking with his motions, and if anyone saw this car from afar you were sure they’d know exactly what was going on inside.

Even if it was the middle of the night and there was no one close by, the chances of someone walking by were very real, and somehow that fact had more heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, had you moaning a bit louder, mindlessly digging your nails on Minho’s back, coaxing the most delicious noises to leave his lips with the motion. 

Your lower abdomen was tightening harshly, both because of the strain caused by fucking in such a crammed space, but also because of the new angle in which he was fucking into you, hitting all the right places within you. Sneaking a hand between your bodies, you found your clit, and you diligently rubbed that sweet bundle of nerves between your legs, working yourself up and enhancing the feel of Minho in you, all over you.

“That’s it, baby… Fuck, you’re gripping me so hard, don’t think I’ll last much longer, huh…”

At this point, it didn’t matter what he said, anything that came out of his mouth had your head spinning, and it wasn’t long until you got your sweet release, spreading warmth all throughout your body and dragging the most desperate swears out of your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna–” Minho’s hips snapped into yours hard, and you could hear the back of his hand hitting the rear door as it pushed your body against it with each thrust. Until finally, he stilled, buried as deep as he could within you, the most sinful of groans falling from his lip as he reached his peak.

Minho collapsed on top of you, panting, breathless. You held him tightly, pressing kisses on the side of his face and softly massaging his scalp with your fingers. You both stayed like that for a moment, all tangled limbs and a bit sweaty, but so incredibly satisfied.

With a content sigh, Minho pulled himself up, kissing you briefly for a moment only to pull away. Carefully, he slid out of you, holding the condom in place at the base so as to not make a mess. 

You could vaguely register him moving around in the car, hearing the ruffling of a plastic bag, and the odd huffs and puffs as he got rid of the soiled latex. Eventually, he sat down properly, with his back against the backrest, laying your legs over his lap.

“This is all I have right now”, he reached between your legs, carefully wiping you clean with what you figured was a napkin.

“Always so considerate, Minho”, you chuckled once he was done, teasing him a bit but also feeling your cheeks heat up at the tender gesture–maybe your standards were just that low, or maybe you just really liked him…

“Just want to take care of you”, he wasn’t teasing you at all, he actually sounded really serious about it, and the comment warmed you up from the inside out. 

“Mm…” Your body was starting to ache from the weird angle you were laying in, along with the aftermath of being fucked in the backseat of a car, clearly.

“So…” Minho cleared his throat, just as his thumb lightly traced circles on your calf. “Wanna go for brunch with me tomorrow?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at him. “As… Friends?”

Minho was quiet for a bit, until he took a deep breath, finally answering your question. “As… A date”.

You looked at him for a few more moments, taking in his side profile and his heaving chest. Finally you sat down, moving to straddle him, and cupping his cheeks. His hands found your thighs, softly massaging your skin as you looked at him. And as you got lost in the warmth you could see in his eyes, you couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face. “A date it is, then”, so you pressed a brief kiss on his lips to seal the deal.

“A date it is then”, Minho mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly against him.

All of a sudden, he lightly smacked one of your buttcheeks, earning a surprised, almost incredulous gasp out of your lips. “Now, as much as I love seeing you naked, we should get dressed before we get arrested for public indecency. Better we continue this at my place”.

With a chuckle, you slid off of his lap, blindly reaching for your clothes and feeling anticipation building inside of you once again at the prospect of the long night ahead of you.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @tasteleeknow @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @dearalice If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC… Part 3

Part 3!! Here’s the link for part 2. Woop, woop, we’re back and this chapter continues on from the first chapter, the last chapter was just a recollection of Carlos and Jenna’s first interaction. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy! This is just a cute filler chapter, the next one will be spicyyyy 🌶️ Jenna’s first day at the Emilia Romagna GP goes down a treat with both celebrities and the general public. Twitter and TikTok are popping off about her being there, and some fans even notice the semi-strange interaction between her and a particular driver.

There was no partying for me tonight. I was exhausted and dipped after two hours, feeling the urge to unwind by myself in the luxurious hotel room Sky had paid for me to be in. It had never felt better to be in bed, my eyes closing for a few moments as I mentally recapped my day. It was a whirlwind from start to end and I was overwhelmingly excited to do it all again in Portugal. I knew my team were extremely happy with what I’d done, and I was popular amongst the drivers and many teams I’d spent the whole day talking to, but there was one group of people I was particularly interested in. The general public.

My heart would always skip a beat whenever I searched myself on Twitter. It was a scary place, and I always expected it to be a lot worse than what it ever was, so I found myself scared to read through the countless tweets about me. Some of the top were update pages, posting pictures of me with supportive comments, before I scrolled down, relieved at the lack of hateful comments. Jenna Ashley looking BEAUTIFUL on the grid today wearing Gucci! Dress and shoes are tagged below. Miss Ashley proves to be a complete hit with all the F1 Drivers.

You can’t tell me Pierre wasn’t staring at Jenna Ashley’s tits that whole interview 🫤🫤🫤🫤

Jenna Ashley for Playboy 2019

Anybody notice the tension between Carlos Sainz and Jenna Ashley?!? I can’t be the only one that saw his reaction

My eyes furrowed, clicking on the tweet that had been liked thousands of times. I was intrigued, looking back at the pictures of us both in the interview.

Omg she’s blushing

Carlos has deffo pulled our girl nah I think her and Max are a thing, did you see how friendly they were?

Carlos looks in LOVE and ohmygodddd same Carlos I’d be just as nervous around her He’s so nervous around her omfgggg

I clicked my phone shut, staring back to a blank screen with brows raised. Was it that obvious? I mean there always was going to be speculation, I’d been trained for that, but how do you react when speculation ends up being true? That sent me on a whole spiral, going onto Carlos’s Instagram and noticing the option to ‘follow back’. “Oh my god.” I dramatically sat up, clicking the icon to follow him back. He most likely didn’t even run his social media accounts, but I sure as hell was acting like he did.

I was guilty of doing a small stalk, well, not so small. He’d been single (from what the internet said) since 2019, two years ago now, and from what I had seen was super unproblematic. Of course, I recognised who his dad was, but his whole family looked like they came from old money. They looked rich, all beautiful and dressed up. Most of all, Carlos’ instagram was beautiful. The man looked like a model, or even a Greek god, sculpted by the gods. That evening he ignited a fire inside of me, leading to me a never ending path of pure lust and obsession for the Spanish driver.

*******

“Hello and welcome to Monaco!!” A woman greeted as I stepped off the plane. “Thank you!” I exclaimed, mouth dropping at the beauty of the small country I’d landed in. It was my first time in Monaco, and I already guaranteed it wouldn’t be my last.

“My name is Amanda, I am a chaperone here with Sky, I will be showing you to your apartment.” “Oh, amazing! Thank you.” I nodded, holding my hair down due to the blustering of the plane jets that were slowing down gradually. I was here to run through some interviews with a couple of the drivers, showing some behind the scenes footage of the race tracks and practice. I was just as intrigued as everybody else, I had so many questions I wanted to ask, and so many places I wanted to venture into.

“Are you ready for your meal tonight, yes?” She asked as I looked at her, smile still lifted on my face. “Meal? Are we- are we going out?!”

“Yes. To Le Louis XV-Alain Ducasse à l'Hôtel de Paris…”

It was safe to say the resteraunt really lived up to his name. I felt out of place as I was guided through the overwhelmingly large hallways, decorated with the most beautiful, expensive paintings and designs known to man. They even had their own Lobster pool, c’mon. This felt too fancy for me, and I made several panicked Tik Tok’s in the process of wondering around.

I alongside the other Sky reporters, had been invited for a meal with some of the other reporters, team principles, CEO’s, men with big amounts of money- and most interesting of all, drivers. I couldn’t lie, I had no idea why I was here, it felt like I’d stumbled in during a Royal family having their Christmas dinner, everybody was sat straight up, borderline like statues as I nervously rubbed my clammy palms along the fabric of my sleek black dress. No wonder they’d dressed me up so classy.

Everybody’s accents were fancy, and not to forget their names. Oh god, there was so many names and faces to go around, I was so overwhelmed by it all that I drunk my champagne a little too quickly. Once we were seated, I almost choked on my drink seeing who I was sat across from.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

The whole 50 or so people that filled this room and I was seated across from a man I’d slept with only weeks prior?! My eyes were focused on his name card on the table before I actually realised he was looking at me. His eyes roamed up my front, lingering over my face, mid sentence as he seemed to pause from pure surprise. Poor guy probably felt awkward.

“Hello.” I cleared my throat, gaining several other greetings in response. Carlos smiled and nodded towards me, taking his glass of Estrella and smiling down to it. He was dressed very smart, like all the other men here, his hair was tidied and he was cleanly shaved, playing his role here perfectly. “I’m glad you’re sat next to me.” Anise whispered as I nodded, relieved to have the comfort of my friend nearby. “Thank god. I’m scared I’m going to spill something.” “I’m scared I’m going to sneeze!” She dramatically whispered as we both giggled, earning a few glances from the posh looking men around us, including Carlos. I felt intimidated under his stare, I was fidgeting and biting down on my lip, chewing the inside of it nervously. I’d felt embarrassed whenever my eye caught his, the way he made my heart race was humiliating. Worst of all, my mind easily wandered to places it shouldn’t have. His fingers that tapped quietly on the table were the same ones that had brought my to orgasm, the same ones that had been in my mouth, running over my breasts… I was getting distracted from the conversation I initiated with Anise and another young woman sat across from us. Next to Carlos. She was very pretty. “I am from Spain.” She smiled. “Ah no way, hablo un poco de español!” (I speak a little Spanish). “Ah!” She excitedly spoke, grabbing Carlos’s arm, my eyebrow twitched slightly. “¡¿Vives ahí?!” (Do you live there?!” “No, no, soy de Inglaterra. Mis abuelos eran españoles.” (No, no I am from England. My grandparents were Spanish). I glanced back to Carlos who was now listening, eyes lingering over my face. “Uh-“ I stammered, losing my Spanish as I looked back to the girl besides him. “They taught us.” I then added as the young woman smiled. “You are Jenna? Yes?” She smiled, offering her hand over the table. I reached forwards, wobbling my empty wine glass as I shook her hand gently. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you, I am Blanca. You have met my brother, Carlos?” Oh. Oh!! My eyes landed on the dark featured man who was smiling back to me, shame on me for ever thinking his sister was anything other than that.

“Ah, yeah, we met in Italy.” My hand tan over the back of my bare shoulder nervously. I heard Anise let out a soft laugh, kicking me from under the table. Way to make it obvious! “Carlos told me-“ Blanca began, a low smirk stretching as Carlos’ mouth opened to cut her off, but the waiters began heading through the doors, endless trays of foot plated up for us. I glanced back to the brother and sister, watching him mutter something to her before the dishes were set in front of us, trays covering the food below. I was starving, border lining ravenous.

“Thank you.” I told the waiter, watching him pull the tray off my food. The disappointment must have been obvious because I heard a slight grunt of laughter from across from me. Carlos had noticed and pursed his lips, I shared a moment of eye contact, only breaking it when I felt an amused grin attempting to reveal itself on my face. Don’t get me wrong, the foot made my taste buds literally orgasm, but there was such a tiny amount, so was the next plate, and then the next one, and then the fourth and final plate which left me rather confused. Everybody was using a different knife and fork, digging into their small chocolate contraption as I realised I didn’t have the right fork and spoon people were using.

Anise was occupied, delving into the food, so was Blanca. My panic was only resolved when Carlos held out his clean fork for me. “Ah.” I gently spoke seeing him let out a small breath of laughter causing a few people to glance over in confusion. People were so snooty, it was scary.

“Thank you.” I whispered, offering him a flirtatious smile for the first time since we’d seen one another in the bar. Carlos nodded, swallowing harshly as my fingers grazed over his, taking the fork to eat my two bite desert with.

At the end of it, there was a few speeches, in many different languages. All I could think about was how hungry I was. The food was 10/10 but the portion sizes were crazy small and it was more like eating four appetisers. After, I stood outside, waiting for a car, borderline desperate to get out of there. Somebody cleared their throat behind me, so when I turned, I was startled to see it was Carlos, lingering around. “Where are you going?” He asked as my lips tugged up, hand resting against my chest. “Um… McDonald’s.” I quietly admitted seeing his eyebrows perk, an amused laugh escaped his lips, catching me off guard.

“I’m really hungry.” I then spoke. “Oh, that is a good idea.” He sighed after a bout of laughter, I nervously laughed, tucking my hair behind my ear as I watched over the Spanish man. “Can I come?” Carlos asked, glancing back to me as I cocked my head to the side.

“Yeah. You like Mconalds?” I for some reason found it super amusing, watching him strip his tie off with a satisfied groan, one that sounded very familiar to-

“Who doesn’t?” “Maybe the people we just ate with.” I shyly joked hearing him snigger again. “No me sorprendería.” (It would not surprise me). He added on unbuttoning his top button. His blazer was slung on his arm, his movement causing the scent of his cologne to float in my direction. I felt weak in the knees.

“You never told me you were- ah what’s the word, reporting on the grids?” He then spoke as I smiled again, back in his direction. “You never asked.” I quietly spoke, hoping my comment came off more flirtatious.

“Estaba un poco ... distraído.” (I was a little… distracted). I only seemed to blush harder at his words, pursing my lips. “Miss, miss, excuse me miss!” A man called out, hurrying from the inside, just as my car began pulling up. “You forgot this.” He panted, handing me over a piece of paper. “Oh-“ I didn’t have time to respond before he scurried off back inside.

I could feel Carlos’ eyes lingering over me, so I frowned, opening it up.

tu español es impresionante llámame

(Your Spanish is impressive… call me).

I gasped in amusement, reading the number scattered on the paper below, the driver pulling up as Carlos opened the door for me. “Thank you.” I giggled, still a little amused from the note I’d just received, but it was fair to say my eyes were only on the man who climbed into the seat next to me. “You left a paper?” He pointed, a little confused.

“It’s somebody’s number.” I awkwardly laughed, handing it over. He furrowed his brows reading over the small piece of paper. He let out a soft laugh, handing it back to me with a hand sliding over the back of his hair.

“Ahora me siento bajo presión... ¿puedo darte el mío antes de que tomes este?“ (Now I feel under pressure… can I give you mine before you take this one?) I sat up straighter, a large grin beaming on my face as he looked away, clearly nervous as he awaited my answer. I would never have imagined a man like him to be shy.

“Sí. Yes.” I giggled, pulling out my phone, forgetting all about the paper number that I’d accidentally dropped onto the seat besides me. “Yes?” Carlos repeated as I nodded, seeing him attempting to bite back a smile whilst pulling out his phone from his back pocket. “Perfect.”

[musical-shit-show]

showed up just in time

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #12 (“don’t move, i’ll be right there.”), #35 (“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t miss you.”) and #82 (“you’re really warm. it’s nice.”) from Prompt List 2 with a little bit of “Afterglow” and “This Love” by Taylor Swift in there somewhere

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunkenness, vomiting (sorry), mild angst, cursing, reader is a ball of anxiety, fluff at the end

Word Count: 3,550

Author’s Note: This took me a LONG time but I’m so glad that I’m writing for Dewey again. I know it’s not as popular as my BJ one shots (and don’t worry, I will be continuing to write those as well to fill the sandworm-sized hole in my heart after the Broadway production closes) but I think it’s important to give Dewey a little bit of love every once and a while. As always, if you like these kinds of fics, please like/comment/reblog and check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you want to submit a request! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with my posts so far; it really does mean a lot. Happy reading and Merry Christmas!

Don’t call him.

Do not call him.

Under no circumstances should you be calling him.

Your alcohol-addled brain managed to scream at you as your eyes flickered over your ex’s contact photo. You knew it wasn’t the smartest decision, but what other choice did you have?

The phrase ‘absolutely shit-faced’ rang in your head. Despite the prep work—eating a sizable meal beforehand, drinking water, strictly adhering to the liquor before beer rule—the world around you was tipping on its axis, the ground feeling more precarious with each passing second.

Maybe it was the lemon drop shots. It was always the lemon drop shots.

To make matters worse, you’d barely know where you were sober, let alone when you were on the verge of a blackout. Your friends, who were even drunker than you were at that point, had lost you somewhere along the way on your yearly holiday bar crawl. It wasn’t exactly their fault; the group was incredibly intoxicated, and you tended to wander.

You wouldn’t have been in this predicament if you and Dewey hadn’t broken up only weeks before. More accurately, you wouldn’t have been in this predicament if you hadn’t broken up with him when your brain decided to concoct a delightful cocktail of abandonment issues and anxiety. That was always your M.O. in relationships; duck and run before you could get your heart broken.

But it was cold. And dark. And in your impaired state of mind, you had no one else to turn to.

So, there you were, standing on a deserted sidewalk, in the frigid air, calling the last person in the whole city who wanted to see or hear from you.

After three agonizing rings, a hesitant voice answered.

“Did, uh, you mean to call me?”

“Dew,” you breathed, “Thank god. Uh—I need you. I mean, I’m out and lost and I just—”

“You’re drunk.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but was instead tinged with concern. 

You sighed heavily, leaning up against the brick wall of the convenience store that inhabited the street corner where you stood. You tried desperately to steady your breathing as a wave of nausea approached.

“Yes. I am,” you said, trying your best to not to sound too wasted, “And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t serious. But I’m by myself and fucked up and don’t have my fucking keys—”

“Don’t move, I’ll be right there.” Three beeps and the call ended abruptly. The thought of him actually coming to get you snapped you back into semi-coherence. You suddenly became acutely aware of your skimpy dress, disheveled hair, smudged makeup.

You looked like a fucking wreck.

Like lightning, you whipped open your camera app and frantically smoothed down your strands and smeared your eyeliner off with a few swipes of a finger. More presentable, but only slightly so. If your phone call wasn’t enough of an indication, your appearance would certainly let Dewey know that you were sloshed.

Even more jarring was the fact that time was now slowing. Your drinks were finally catching up to you as you felt a throbbing in your right temple. Luckily, you didn’t have much time to think about how drunk you were, because a familiar screech of tires made you blink your eyes open to see a mess of wavy brown hair poking out the window.

“Get in,” Dewey said urgently, surveying your immediate surroundings, “Please.” Without a word, you scurried behind the back of his van—which was somehow still miraculously running despite being at least two decades old—and got into the passenger seat.

You sat in a tense silence, the liquor still churning in your stomach as he slowed the vehicle to a stop at a red light. His fingers tapped frantically, rhythmically on the steering wheel.

“Thank you,” you breathed awkwardly, unsure of exactly what to say. Luckily, Dewey had plenty on his mind.

“Are you crazy?” he asked incredulously, exasperated as the light changed from red to green. He stepped on the gas pedal lightly despite his disgruntled demeanor, “You’re lucky some creep didn’t try to harass you or worse. And where are your friends? Or are you making a habit of going out by yourself these days?”

His words were harsh, but you could tell his nerves were rattled. You knew something like this would happen, but you didn’t really have any other option. Dewey was always protective of you, even with his reputation of being somewhat unreliable.

You blinked at him stupidly and sat back into the worn leather seat. “How did you know where I was?” you asked, completely ignoring his line of inquiry with your own, less imperative one. Dewey couldn’t help but let out a cautious chuckle.

“You uh, never stopped sharing your location with me,” he said sheepishly, “I guess it came in handy tonight, huh?” You nodded silently, your heart pounding in your chest. Pathetic didn’t even begin to describe how you felt. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

A heavy exhale left your throat dryly, fogging up the passenger side window, “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does fucking matter if you’re getting trashed alone at weird bars. I’m—I’d be worried about you.”

Crossing your arms like a petulant child, you couldn’t bear to look at Dewey. Since when was he the responsible one and you were the hot mess? “I didn’t go alone,” you muttered quietly, “I was with my friends, we all got hammered, and I wandered off.”

“God, I hate your friends sometimes,” he said with another dry laugh, “They should know to keep you on a leash whenever you drink.”

“Hey!” you punched him lightly in the arm as he turned onto his street, “You can’t be mean to me, I’m drunk.” Dewey shifted the van into park and unbuckled himself with a flourish.

“I can definitely be a little mean to you, seeing as you made me drive out in the freezing cold to get your plastered ass.” In a flash, he was opening the door and helping you out onto the pavement. You were finally getting your bearings when your heel caught the edge of the sidewalk and making you trip. Right into Dewey’s arms.

You looked him up and down, a sheepish smile on your face as he propped you back upright, “You’re really warm,” you remarked dumbly, his body heat radiating off of him as he hooked his arm around your waist to keep you from falling again, “It’s nice.”

“Jesus Christ, kid, you are drunk.”

Kid.

Maybe it was a reflex, but that single pet name made your stomach do a somersault, lemon drops be damned. As you neared his door, though, you felt your throat tighten, and it wasn’t due to your ex’s arm wrapped firmly around your body.

The alcohol was finally fighting back, and you knew you were vastly outmatched. “Uh, not to be that person, but…” You were choking out your words as Dewey swung his front door open, “I need to throw up. Like, now.”

He raised his eyebrows but his expression remained unsurprised. “Alright, superstar. Let’s go,” he walked you to the bathroom as quickly as he could without upsetting your stomach even more. He took one glance at your face, which had quickly turned a pallid green color.

Dewey couldn’t help but laugh at this situation. When the two of you were together, it was you who would take care of him nearly every time he’d have one too many at the Roadhouse. Having the tables turn like this, when you were broken up no less, made him feel like he was in an alternate universe.

As soon as you laid eyes on the door, you rushed into Dewey’s bathroom and slammed it shut. Your last three drinks emptied into the toilet bowl, the acid from your stomach burning your throat. The bitter taste made you gag even more, and in a few moments, your stomach felt void of all contents.

Hot tears of embarrassment fell onto the tile as you leaned up against the door. The cold floor was almost soothing as heat radiated throughout your body, but it did nothing to quell your distress. You jolted at the sound of a light knock behind you.

“Hey, you okay?” Dewey asked softly.

“Oh, just peachy.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. Want me to hold your hair back?” You could hear his smirk through the door. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Not to be gross, but, uh, there’s not much left,” you said queasily, “It’s the sewer system’s problem now.” You heard him let out a small laugh himself, which caused your throat to grow even drier. “I’ll be out in a sec, just gotta’ freshen up. Thank you, though. Again.”

A beat passed, but you knew he was still at the door. You clawed at the skin around your fingernails, a favorite nervous habit of yours. “Don’t mention it,” he said finally, “But you so owe me one.”

***

After some soap and water, a decent amount of mouthwash, and swiping a t-shirt and pajama pants that you had unfortunately left behind only weeks earlier, you exited ready to face the shame of barfing in your ex’s bathroom after one (or four) too many.

“I see you finally finished hanging your collection,” you said, gingerly sitting down on his couch. With his new tutoring gig, Dewey was able to afford a few more guitars, which were now prominently displayed on the wall. He emerged from the kitchen, a tall glass of water in one hand and two Advil in the other.

He sat down next to you, making a point to refrain from any physical contact, “Well, I’ve had some free time.” That stung. And Dewey knew it. Both of you wore your heart on your sleeve, which meant you could read each other extremely well. “Sorry.”

You shook your head, “No, uh, that’s…that’s warranted.” He handed you the pills and the water, and you couldn’t help but smile. “My savior.” Dewey let another smirk creep onto his face.

“Sorry, but could you just say that one more time, for the record?” he asked as he whipped out his phone, “I need some audio proof of that little nugget of gratitude.” You barked out a laugh and shoved his arm away from you. He smiled back at you, but you could so clearly see the sadness filling his eyes. “Uh, you sure you’re feeling alright? Sounded pretty gnarly in there for a while.”

Your face reddened again, but the look of genuine concern on Dewey’s face made your pulse slow. “Yeah,” you choked out, “I mean, I still feel a little woozy, but ten times better than before, I swear.” You threw the aspirin into your mouth and gulped down the majority of the water. “But just know, if you ever tell anyone about tonight, I will have to kill you.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” he crossed two fingers over his heart in mock reverence, “Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t a Boy Scout,” you deadpanned.

“Not in practice,” he dropped his regality and tucked his arms across his chest, “But I just know I could’ve crushed those nerds in knot tying.”

Even though you couldn’t stifle your laughter at his corniness, it was almost unbearable trying to bring yourself to look at him for more a few seconds. “So…how are the kids?” The best course of action was to change the subject. Dewey smiled softly and sat down next to you, making sure to leave a considerable distance.

“They’re, uh, good.” Now it was his turn to not meet your eye. “Little shitheads, but they somehow manage to blow me away a little more every day.” Your heart squeezed in your chest every time he mentioned the Horace Green kids. They all idolized him of course, and he adored them in return. “Need anything else? Another blanket? Glass of water? Maybe another round of tequila?”

You shuddered at the thought. “Absolutely not, Dew,” you giggled, despite your head still pounding. A pit formed in your stomach despite his lightheartedness; he was being so sweet after you had been so shitty. “I’m sorry. Again. I just, I don’t know when I became such a fucking trainwreck.”

Dewey sighed and grabbed a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and placed it on your shoulders. “You’re not a fucking trainwreck. Everyone has bad nights. I just can’t believe you called me of all people. Pretty sure Ned still wouldn’t trust me to pick him up when he was wasted.”

“Well, he should,” you muttered softly, heartache radiating through your entire body, “You’re a good person, Dewey. A great person. I’m just, I’m sorry that—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, “We don’t have to. I mean, it’s okay. I understand.” He took your palm gently into his, absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. The small act of gentleness almost made you uncontrollably sob.

And as time passed, you found it was becoming harder and harder to blame the alcohol for your actions. Your harrowing experience in the bathroom meant you were only sobering up faster, and you couldn’t stop yourself from spilling your guts to Dewey. Metaphorically, this time.

“No, I—I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you, Dew,” you voice trembled as you finally met his gaze, which was partially hidden behind his mess of wavy brown hair. You couldn’t bear to look at his sad puppy dog eyes for long and involuntarily shrunk in on yourself, pulling his blanket closer to your chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You felt a few hot tears fall from your eyes, and quickly wiped them away regretfully. This whole night was like a long, agonizing parade of humiliation, and Dewey had a front row seat. And the worst part was, you were the one who had invited him to the shitshow.

Dewey closed the distance between you, his hand still grasping yours. You were now shoulder to shoulder, his stocky frame comforting you despite your discomfort. “Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow? I think we’d both agree you need some rest.” You nodded, like a sleepy child finally agreeing to an afternoon nap.

You rested your head on one of the throw pillows, the fleece feeling plush against your cheek. Dewey teetered on the balls of his feet for a moment, running a damp palm through his messy hair. You were already starting to drift off, your eyelids heavy with sleep. The final phase of a drunken stupor always seemed to result in you knocking out fairly quickly.

After quietly tidying up, he couldn’t help but smile at how fast you had drifted off to sleep as you laid peacefully on his sofa. Gently, he placed a light kiss on your forehead. You didn’t stir. Dewey’s affection for you still felt like second nature, even while you dreamt.

He missed you. He never stopped missing you, loving you, but it wasn’t his place to take you at your word when you weren’t sober.

No matter how much he wanted to believe you meant what you said, he couldn’t bear to have his heart broken again.

***

The sun was your mortal enemy. Every ray that peaked through Dewey’s curtains pierced you like a knife to the chest. You groaned angrily, grabbing one of the surprisingly soft pillows from behind your head and pulling it over your face. Maybe you would suffocate and save yourself from the indignity of the previous evening.

“Ah, I forgot how much of a morning person you were,” Dewey drawled dryly from the kitchen. You removed the pillow and sat up. He was sitting peacefully in his flannel pajama pants and Iron Maiden t-shirt. You remembered picking that shirt out for him at the thrift store.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the aroma of coffee wafted towards you as Dewey sat on the couch with a mug in hand. “Like you’re one to talk,” you replied, still squinting, “I distinctly remember someone saying waking up before noon was ‘early’ in your book.”

“People change,” he shrugged. You muttered an unenthused “Yeah,” as you pulled the blanket towards your chest. You wished you were a magician so you could throw it over your head and disappear. “Here,” he held the mug in your direction, “splash of cream, one sugar.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, which had become chapped overnight. You hadn’t been nervous in front of Dewey since before you started dating, and now you could barely look at him. “Thanks,” you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his as you grabbed the handle. You instantly felt your heart flutter.  

“I was a total idiot last night, wasn’t I?” You set the coffee down and threw your head into your hands. You did always have a flair for the dramatic. It’s one of the first things you and Dewey bonded over.

He nodded, “Oh yeah,” he winced, “How much do you remember?”

Your mind instantly flashed to an image of your body crouched over Dewey Finn’s toilet bowl.

“Enough.”

“So, you don’t remember sucker punching that chick who was flirting with me when I picked you up?”

“I did what?!” You knew you could get feisty when you drank, but you had zero recollection of talking to anyone when you left the bar, let alone fighting some random girl. Before you could ask any follow ups, Dewey burst into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back effortlessly. You blinked at him before narrowing your eyes in suspicion. “You little shit.”

“What, is it my fault that you’re so goddamn gullible?” he choked out between cackles. You stewed unconvincingly before cracking a smile. Rubbing a stray tear from his eye, he cleared his throat, “Or maybe it’s believable that you’d still fight for little ol’ me?”

You dug your fingernails into your palms, which had already begun to sweat. Dewey knew exactly what he was doing with that one. He always made it seem like he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but you knew he was much smarter than people gave him credit for. More perceptive, too. Which meant he could read you like the newest copy of Rolling Stone.

Now it was you who was shedding tears yet again. “Whoa hey, hey,” he said, immediately noticing your eyes glazing over, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have joked about that.” He inched closer to you, but you turned away, still guilt-sick from the events of the past 12 hours.

“No, Dew, the thing is…you’re right,” you said with a sniff, a tremor overtaking your voice, “I would’ve. I would’ve fought for you. I should’ve. But I was fighting against myself. And we all know what a losing battle that can be.”

Dewey shifted on the couch restlessly, hesitant to try and console you; no matter how much he wanted to grab your hand, tell you it was alright, that you could work it out, he knew that he needed to hear you out first.

“I meant what I said last night,” you murmured, finally able to meet his gaze, “I miss you. A lot. I think about you all the time, and I feel like such a fucking idiot for ending things between us, because, well. Because I love you. I still love you.”

Dewey usually had a comeback or snarky remark ready to go, but not now. He was completely speechless. For a long moment, at least. You watched as a relieved smile spread across his face, unable to contain the joy he was feeling at the thought of getting back together.

“Oh, baby, I love you too,” he said, finally wrapping his arms around your torso. You could smell his body wash, earthy and clean and comforting, “You drive me absolutely insane, and don’t ever think about leaving a bar by yourself again, but I missed you so goddamn much.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and for the first time in weeks, your body relaxed.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you played with the unruly waves that fell at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. “Whoa, easy there, killer,” he smiled, his lips grazing your cheek, “You better sleep off the rest of this hangover. And since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep in my bed.”

You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow, “What’ll it cost me?” Dewey smirked; you knew him all too well.

“Dinner. You’re paying, obviously.”

“Fair.”

“And drinks.”

“Okay.” He was really milking this for all it was worth.

“And of course, makeup sex is always a must in these situations.”

You gave him one final playful shake of the head before pouncing on him, showering him with affection. Even though you were messing around, you felt your heart swell; no matter what happened, no matter how many times your fear of losing him reared its ugly head, you would choose this. This was real, here, now, and important. This was your love for Dewey, and you’d do everything in your power to keep it this time.

***

Thanks everyone for reading! Please comment/like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[jotheantagonist]

in seven days, He was finished by jo the antagonist

content: What if god was not benevolent? a sick and twisted bastard who played with his toys and held them a little too tightly until their limbs broke off? This is that god. Based on the christian god, though not entirely canon compliant. Cross-posted on discord, still debating if i should add it to ao3

Time was such an annoying thing to an immortal being. Why measure it? Seconds tick to minutes, minutes to hours, then from lifetimes to lifetimes.

When you don’t die, well what is the point?

What I remember is the beginning and the beginning of the end.

In the beginning, there was nothing. Nothing that a human could understand at least. What does a human know of nothingness? The lack of presence? There was nothing. That was that.

Perhaps if I speak in human terms, I shall be better understood. I was lonely. There was nothing like me. I wanted there to be.

I grasped at the vast nothingness around me. I felt something, and yet to you, it should be nothing at all.

I took a pinch of space and pulled together something. Let there be light. Perhaps then, I shall find something other than I.

There was not. There was nothing. Nothing but me, me and the light.

If I could feel disappointment, then I’d have felt it then. Perhaps, I’d still feel it now.

I would not spend eternity in the light. I did not want to look at it. It was a glaring reminder of how only I exist in this world if it could be called that. I turned away from it. Back to the darkness from whence I came. And yet, the darkness was just as stifling. I routinely turned away from one whenever I tired from the other. You know this as your night and day. I know this as my life. For all of eternity, for perpetuity.

I learned there are a great many things I could create from nothing. I’d break things into little pieces, piece them together into bigger pieces. Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars you’d call the earthy ones. The gaseous ones or the ones of an icier nature, I believe you called Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. You didn’t quite like my favorite one.

I am not partial to the light, though I too am not partial to the darkness. Hence the rotations and the revolutions. I put a great matter of distance between each planet to see how it would turn out. It didn’t turn out quite well for most, though imagine my surprise at finding your planet.

Life! Yes, I put the water and the lands and the heavens and the sky, but that is not special to earth. I tried that in every planet, with varying levels of success. But I did not put life, and yet here it was. Life!

Well, the excitement of this discovery did not quite last long. A few million years or so, but it had to end. It was stagnant and boring with their feathers and their claws and their scales and their jaws. Though, it gave a very good idea to base my future creations on.

I made creatures in the sea, creatures in the air, creatures on land, and creatures practically everywhere. That went boring, too, but I had a feeling that killing them all a second time would be less gratifying.

I didn’t do anything for a while. I just watched. To me, life, which is more an eternity, was frankly boring. I always knew what would happen. Where is the mystery? The fun? I tried starting world-ending events on a semi-regular basis, but alas, they no longer made me happy.

Worst of all, I still felt lonely. While to you, you have your brothers and your sisters, your mothers and your fathers, your friends and your lovers, I had none. There was only me. There was nothing like me, and likely never would have been had I not made Adam.

I had no reference for me when I made him. The closest I suppose is a primate, though far less attractive. I made him beautiful and I made him a beautiful garden. Everything that was mine was his. My pretty, pretty toy. The first boy.

I don’t quite understand it, though. All my creations, all life, it seemed at the time, wanted companionship. But why? I was alone. I was alone, and I made them for me. And they still wanted more? They wanted family. They wanted friends. They wanted lovers. So they shall have them then, and I shall take them away. They are mine by right. They were mine first.

But I did not think Adam would be the same.

Adam, my Adam. He said he was lonely, but I am lonely, and I had never complained! I had spent eons with only myself for company and he cannot last a week? Fine, I shall give him a lover, too.

He does not deserve the bones I had given him. I shall take it and make another. A derivative of him. Not a man, a woman. Eve.

He loved her, perhaps like I did him. But he was mine, and she was his. I wanted to prove that only I am worthy of Adam, not Eve. So I placed a tree, it does not matter if it was an apple or a persimmon. It was a tree. It had no features or traits that made it other from any other tree. Not a tree of knowledge nor a tree of evil. I told Adam, long before Eve arrived, not to eat from it as a joke, of course. He is not quite good with humor. I did not expect him to pass the message on. He did not.

I am right, as always.

Of course, I had only a few disobedient creations in my life and one was a snake. You’re quite familiar with him. Perhaps said snake thought it would be outsmarting me by tricking Eve, but I will admit this here, I fully intended for her to do so. I just wanted to see if she would. And she did.

“Here, Adam! Take a bite!” Bah. You seductress. You tempted him! He would never have bitten this god-forbidden fruit had she not. But this single incident, an isolated one for its time, was unprecedented to me.

Yes, I expected her to do it, but I did not order her to. She had done the first act of disobedience in my eons of existence. It was exhilarating. It was brilliant. I had never known of this before, and she has opened this realm of possibility for me. I hate her still, but for this, I am eternally grateful.

As punishment of course, either for me or for Eve, I granted them the same curse granted to me. Immortality. Not their kids, nor their grandkids. They will not live to a hundred, or a thousand. They’ll live forever, for eternity, for perpetuity.

Just me and Adam and Eve.

Why, it was such an experience that I granted free will to everybody. Free will to you! Free will to you! Free will to you. But not eternal life. No, not that. There is no life beyond the eighty-something years I usually give your kind. There is just death, but not for me or Adam or Eve.

Alas, the concept of such a finite amount of time on this earth distresses you folk, so you have concocted some lie that I had allegedly told you. Eternal life in heaven or hell? Well, I’ll neither confirm nor deny. But Adam and Eve and I are not for eternal salvation nor damnation. Just… existence. Adam and Eve and I.

As I’ve said before, time is a fickle thing to an immortal mind. For a time, it was annoying, but now with front-row entertainment, it’s... bearable.

See, your kind often think you have a lover for life. You don’t. It’s because your lives are much shorter than Adam or Eve or I. You think of soulmates or true love. Bah! That isn’t true, either. Your lives are meaningless and empty and short. But! Your lives are interesting, and that is why you live.

So the grand story is, the moment your life began, a clock began ticking. You think it says the passage of time. Close, but I’ve told you time doesn’t matter, not to me. I can be patient. I’ve been patient. To me, this has been seven short days. To you, a bit over four billion years.

I think I’ve been playing this game of life and death with Adam and Eve for the past ten thousand or something years. It hasn’t gone dull yet. I love making them have kids, losing them to famine or drought or war. I love making them happy. I love it more when I’m making them suffer. More Eve than Adam, but I can be fair. Equality, right? I play around with them, almost like a child with dolls, or a child with an ant-hill.

I’ve killed the world more times than Adam or Eve, or even I can count. You will be interesting, won’t you? I’d hate to start again.

[ecoamerica]

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[toasecretsanta]

When It Rains

Hello!! This is [ @returnofthemackles]’s Secret Santa gift for @bluefoxchild !!! I had fun writing this and I really hope you enjoy it! I combined two of the prompts you gave me for this piece: Two people in a cornfield at night. The darkness is not as empty as it seems to be, and Thunderstorms at night. I also really liked the third prompt you gave me but unfortunately I didn’t have the time to write a second piece to include that one. But! If I am ever able to articulate my idea enough and write something with it, I’ll be sure to tag you in it if I end up posting it! (Little fun fact: the “Clancy” that Will addresses is my friend’s child of Apollo OC, thought I’d give them a little cameo.)

Some quick content warnings for this piece: semi graphic descriptions of death, topics in death, grief, minor swearing/cursing, very brief mention of an ED. If there’s anything that I missed I apologize!

Without further ado, here it is! Happy holidays and please enjoy!! 

…

Nico had already known that Jason was dead. He didn’t have to be told; he simply knew. It wasn’t like the knowledge just popped into his head, it was more like a feeling. Or a series of feelings. He saw him in his dreams: glimpses of searing pain and blood stained clothes, cold surrounding every inch of his skin with rushing water roaring in his ears like drowning in the coldest, darkest parts of a winter ocean. Flashing images of a thunderstorm, a California beach, Jason’s face drained of all color, bringing out the shocking blue in his cold, dead eyes, wet sand stuck to his cheeks and in his hairline. His glasses were gone. He could hear the screaming voice of a girl, though everything sounded canned and distant. Nico hardly slept for days on end as these dreams haunted him every waking night. 

But the creeping suspicion of Jason’s death didn’t only come to him in the night. Even during the day, awake, just a passing thought of Jason, or the mere mention of his name sent a mind numbing ringing into his ears. It was a ringing he was all too familiar with: the ringing that occurred only when in the presence of death. When he would tell Will, his boyfriend, about everything he’d been seeing and experiencing, Will would try to reassure him that surely Jason was okay, that his anxiety was just getting the best of him, but they both knew that wasn’t true. They knew full well what came along with Nico being a son of Hades, and they knew that his powers were scary and accurate. His gut was never wrong. 

So when Apollo showed back up at Camp and told them of Jason’s fate, he was only confirming what Nico already knew to be true. 

He was beyond upset and frustrated. Jason was the closest thing Nico had ever had to a brother, and now he was gone. He didn’t blame Apollo or anyone else for Jason’s passing, no one except the psychopath who took his life. He knew better now than to hold pointless grudges over people who really had nothing to do with the situation. They did what they could, and Jason made the choices he did to save them. He was a hero. But that didn’t make Nico any less upset. 

There was always the option of summoning Jason’s spirit; getting to talk to him one last time and getting some closure on the situation, but he had only learned just how disrupting that could be to a person’s peace in death. As badly as he wanted to see Jason, he couldn’t do that to him. As hard as it was to sit idly by when he knew he had the power in his hands to do something, he knew he had to let the dead be dead. Jason deserved that at the very least. 

So he tried to carry on. And so is the life of a demigod. People die. You carry on. You have to. Or at least that’s the mentality that kept Nico from feeling like he was going insane on the daily. 

But one day, something changed. 

The weather was usually pretty temperate in Camp, that was a nice thing they had going. Never too cold, never too hot, it never rained or snowed, unless of course if Mr. D wanted it to, or if something else major was going on. 

This day started just like any other, but Nico could tell something was off. He woke to cabin 13 feeling particularly cold. There was a weird sort of static electricity in the air, leaving the hairs on his arms standing on end and a tingly feeling crawling across his skin. He went to flip the light switch in the bathroom, but as he touched it, a small shock zapped at his fingertips. He flipped the switch up and down a few times. Nothing. No power. Strange. He got ready in the dark, which his drowsy morning eyes didn’t particularly complain about, and headed out thereafter.

The sky was overcast and thunder rumbled in the distance. He could see dark storm clouds peeking out over the trees surrounding the valley, but they weren’t supposed to be able to cross over the border at Half Blood Hill. Emphasis on ‘supposed to.’

The day carried on and Nico noted the dark clouds rolling around the edges of the camp’s borders, like normal, but it almost seemed like they were building up: billowing and getting darker, thicker, behind an invisible wall. Campers were murmuring and looking up nervously at the sky throughout the day, but nothing out of the ordinary happened until around dinner time. Almost as though someone popped a hole through the barrier in the sky, the storm clouds broke through and started spilling over the top of the valley.

Some Apollo kids were standing at the edge of the dining pavilion, pointing and gawking at the sky as any last remaining glimpses of their father’s symbol in the sky disappeared behind the dark murk of the clouds.

“It’s just clouds, guys.” Will told them, a reassuring yet stern tone to his voice, “A little rain isn’t going to hurt you. Come back to the table and eat.”

“Should we be worried?” An Aphrodite kid asked, pointing their question at the head table all while attempting to pat the frizz out of their hair from the humidity. 

Chiron stood in his full centaur form near the head table, the gray sky reflecting in his eyes. He spoke in a calm tone, “I don’t see a reason for concern. Some healthy rain here and there shouldn’t be bad for our crops or our spirits. Unless Mr. D senses any issue on the matter?”

He cocked an eyebrow at the man sitting at the table next to him, his purple leopard print shirt seeming extra bright in the overcast lighting of the dining pavilion. The man, the god Dionysus, or as they knew him, ‘Mr. D,’ popped a plump grape into his mouth and gave an uninterested shrug followed by a distasteful grunt, “Seems fine to me. The old man in the sky is probably just grumpy about something or other. I wouldn’t get my tunic in a twist over it.” 

Surely enough before long it started to rain, starting as a drizzle, turning more steady, and by nightfall it had turned into a torrential downpour. All of the campers sought shelter in their cabins as thunder wracked across the valley, shaking the very floorboards of the cabins. 

Nico had become quite the regular in the Apollo cabin, what with him dating their head counselor, so they didn’t hesitate to let him in at any point during the day, and especially that night with the storm raging outside. Will knew especially how Nico could get in his own head on nights like these, but his siblings had also really accepted him as one of their own in the recent months. He didn’t hesitate to feel at home in their cabin anymore. 

“Alright, campers.” Will said in his best Chris McLean impersonation as he entered the room with a clipboard and a pen behind his ear, “With the storm being as bad as it is, Chiron has asked the head counselors to do a headcount tonight just to make sure everyone is safe and accounted for. So when I call your name please acknowledge your presence in the most obnoxious way possible.”

You see, Will took his role as head counselor very seriously. He cared for his siblings deeply and it showed, but he could also tell when their nerves were high, that was one thing that came naturally to him, which made it easy for him to know when he needed to try and lift their spirits. Nico appreciated that about him. 

“I know you’re here.” Will put a hand on Nico’s head and gave his hair a rustle, “Don’t go slinking in the shadows on me, di Angelo, I want you safe.” 

Nico rolled his eyes in the most dramatic way possible but Will just smirked at him. Eye rolling was a form of affection in this relationship. 

Will began calling names and his campers responded in their best and most obnoxious ways, just as he had asked. They all laughed together and the room began to seem a little brighter, even in the dim candlelight, as the power in all the cabins were still out. 

He got about halfway down the list before calling, “Kayla?”

No response.

His eyes flicked up from his clipboard, their blue seeming a tad darker than usual, “Kayla? Anyone seen Kayla? Austin?”

Austin looked up from the ukulele he was stringing on his bunk, “I haven’t seen her since dinner. She left with some Demeter kids.”

Will breathed and made a mark on his paper, “I’ll have to check in with Miranda then to make sure she’s not-”

Before he could finish speaking, the door to the Apollo cabin flew open, flashes of lightning filling the room as a thick gust of wind blanketed across them all, extinguishing all of the candles in the room. 

In the doorway stood Kayla Knowles, dripping wet from head to toe, her ginger and green hair plastered to her face. Her breaths were labored as though she had been running. She had her bow slung over her shoulder. 

“The pegasi,” She wheezed as rain poured sideways into the cabin from the jarred door, “They got out of their stables. They’re freaking out, we’re trying to round them up, but the storm is only getting worse.” 

Will immediately ditched his clipboard and moved into action, barking orders at his campers, “Clancy, go get Chiron. Austin, grab some apples and sugar cubes from the kitchens. Nico, come with me.”

Everyone responded to his commands in a flash. Nico grabbed his jacket and threw it on, and they ran out the door into the pouring rain. 

Kayla led them through the dark across camp, and it took less than ten seconds for both Nico and Will to become soaked to the bone. The only thing protecting Nico was the leather of his jacket, but that could only do so much. 

They made it to the pegasi stables, where they found multiple Demeter campers running around frantically, trying desperately to wrangle about six very riled up pegasi. The ground was littered with wet feathers plastered into the mud. 

Will skittered to a halt next to Miranda Gardiner, who had managed to get a lead around the neck of one of the pegasi. He managed to shout over the roaring rain, “What happened? How did they get out?!” 

She spit rain water out of her mouth as her Pegasi reared onto its hind legs, “Woah girl! Calm down, it's okay! I don’t know! It's almost as though someone let them out! I could’ve sworn they were all locked up when I left before the rain started!”

Will took another step forward, arms outstretched Jurassic World style. He spoke in that calm, healing voice he used when soothing one of his patients, “There there Starla, it’s okay. No need to panic, it’s just a little thunderstorm.”

He managed to place a hand softly on the pegasi, Starla’s, neck. She flicked her head anxiously as he brushed his fingertips of his other hand along her muzzle. Even from several feet behind him, Nico could feel the warm, calming energy just oozing off of him. The warmth of the sun in the middle of a cold storm.

Starla exhaled from her nose as she leaned into Will’s touch, relaxing by the second.

“‘Atta girl.” Will smiled as he secured the lead around her neck. At that moment, both he and Starla had seemed to have forgotten about the storm that still raged around them.

“I’ll never understand how you do that.” Miranda breathed.

“You can thank my dad.” Will gave her a wink, “But let’s get her back inside.”

Nico took a step forward, “What do we do about-”

As soon as he spoke, Starla’s eyes went wild once again, as she let out a distraught cry and reared back onto her hind legs, yanking Miranda off her feet and into the mud. 

“Will, get him out of here!” Miranda yelped, grasping desperately for Starla’s lead, “He’s only going to scare them!”

Nico took a step back, taken aback by what she had just said. He had gotten so comfortable here, he had really started to feel welcome for the first time in his life. He saw these people as his family. Because of all of that, he had almost forgotten who he was. Of course they’d be scared of him. 

“I’m sorry, Nico.” Miranda said to him, pushing dripping strands of blonde hair from her face, “It’s nothing personal, but you know how it is.”

He did. He did know.

“He’s fine.” Will said in a stern tone, “She’s just spooked, any sudden movement will scare her.”

He turned to face Nico, his blue eyes almost glowing in the darkness. He seemed to read Nico’s mind, “You’re okay. Stay. Help. I need you here.”

Before he could speak, there was an extra bright flash of lightning, accompanied with an earth shaking crack of thunder, seemingly right on top of them. 

They all spun around as a camper screamed. Standing before them was a pegasus much larger than the others. No wait, it wasn’t a pegasus. A horse, a regular horse. A massive black stallion, its mane so wild it almost seemed like it was a part of the storm itself. It was as though the rain poured heavier around its silhouette, making it almost hard to look distinctly at it. It definitely wasn’t there before.

“Demon!” One of the campers shrieked. 

“It’s not a demon!” Miranda croaked as she struggled to stay on her feet with a panicking Starla, “It’s just a horse! Someone do something about it, please!”

The stallion planted a hoof in the mud, misty clouds billowing up around its ankles. At that moment, it looked directly into Nico’s eyes. Or he could’ve sworn it had. As it did, he felt a tingle shoot up his spine, and under the leather of his jacket sleeves he could’ve sworn every single one of his hairs was standing on end. The longer they locked eyes, the more Nico saw. Lightning flickered throughout the horse’s body, like bombs flashing behind smoke.

“That’s not a horse.” He announced, not even shifting his eyes. 

Flashes of his past dreams sparked across his mind. A different storm. Sand. Empty, soulless, dead blue eyes. The ringing in his ears. He became aware of just how cold he was, standing soaked to the bone in the dead of the night. 

A name came to his mind. He wasn’t sure how he knew it. Maybe it had been told to him before, he wasn’t sure, but he spoke it without thinking, “Tempest.”

“The Gray Sister?” He heard Will’s voice somewhere behind him. He hadn’t realized he had gotten closer to the stallion. 

“No, the ventus.” He took another step closer, the stallion unwavering.

“This isn’t Kingdom Hearts!” Will shouted, “Nico, do you know this horse?”

“Solace, will you stop being a nerd for two seconds?!” Nico shouted back to him, still not looking back and away from the billowing figure before him, “A ventus is a storm spirit. This one is just choosing to take the form of a horse.”

It was almost as though his eyes were locked in place. He couldn’t look away, and he found himself inching closer to the spirit, slowly taking one step after the other. He could feel Will’s presence somewhere close behind him, not letting Nico get too far from him; Will had that kind of aura about him, Nico could always feel him when he was near. There was something about this ventus, the way it was looking at him, the way it was just standing there. It was like it was beckoning him, telling him to come closer. He knew he had the mental willpower to fight whatever the spirit -Tempest- was putting over him, but something in his mind told him not to. He did not sense any sort of malicious intent coming from it. It was as if it knew him.

“Nico, I don’t like this.” He could hear the caution in Will’s voice, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s okay, I know him.” Nico said, outstretching a hand towards the stallion. He didn’t, he didn’t know him, so he wasn’t sure why he said that, yet he didn’t feel like he was lying. He wouldn’t lie to Will, but there was something familiar in Tempest’s eyes. If he didn’t know this horse, then someone he did know must’ve sent him. That at least had to be true. 

Nico was hardly noticing the frantic campers still scrambling around, trying to wrangle the pegasi, or even the rain still dumping buckets over their heads. It was all white noise at that moment. 

He was right in front of Tempest now. With his outstretched hand he was close enough to touch his muzzle. He hesitated, just for a moment, as Tempest placed one hoof forward and let out a puff of air from his nose. A puff of a cloud released from his nostrils, static electricity crackling within it. It was as if he was sending a message: it’s okay. 

Even in the cold of the storm, Nico felt the warmth of certainty creeping through his veins. He didn’t feel an ounce of fear. He had to do this.

With a decisive inhale, he took a final step forward and placed a hand on Tempest’s muzzle. As he did, several things conspired in about half a second, all playing in slow motion that lasted an eternity. The sky lit up so bright he could’ve sworn Apollo was gracing them with his presence. He felt a bolt of electricity streak across not only his body, but he could feel it transcending into his soul, across his entire being. Every vein, blood vessel, and cell in his body lit up like a Christmas tree, lighting a fiery pain under his skin that he couldn’t even begin to describe with words. 

This is how it ends, huh? His brain asked him in a moment of panic, You got electrocuted by a horse. Good job, bud.

As all of this was happening, he thought maybe he felt his soul leap out of his body. He had spent a lot of time around dead people: spirits without bodies, bodies without spirits. He had felt his own body nearly melt into the shadows themselves, but he’d never experienced the sensation of his soul leaving his body. It was always others: those he commanded. He’d seen it, he’d felt other people’s deaths countless times, but feeling his own existence split at that moment was maybe one of the most mind shattering things he’d ever experienced. 

But he still didn’t feel a lick of fear. Especially once he felt Will’s arms around him.

He heard Will’s voice shouting his name somewhere behind him, but there was a delay. It was like when you’re watching fireworks, and you see the explosion before you hear it. Like a sonic boom on a jet. His soul, outside of his body, yet still attached to it, was perceiving everything a half a second later than his body was. But he felt Will’s arms wrap around him. It was like every other embrace he’d ever given him, but as he felt the warmth of Will’s body collide with his own, it continued farther, reaching out past his body, into the ether, and around his soul. He felt Will touch his essence itself, the very existence of his soul. Like torn paper being ripped from a book, his soul left his body, and then once again in reverse, he slammed back into himself, colliding into his own body with such force, he could feel his brain rattling against his skull. 

They fell backwards, and as their butts hit the ground, everything played back into real time. The lightning flash that lit up the sky finished with a crack of thunder. And like they had entered a vacuum chamber, the rain was sucked back up into the sky, sealing with a pop. And they were slammed back into reality. Or so Nico thought.

When he opened his eyes, they were in a different place. The rain had stopped completely, though he still heard the far away sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. There was a cold, sharp breeze blowing through his hair, miraculously dry, and biting the skin on his face. It was dark: the kind of darkness you only see in your nightmares. The smell of what he could only determine to be farmland lingered on the breeze. Lightning crackled across the murky sky just barely enough to give him a sense of the environment around. They were in the middle of a corn field.

He was on his behind in the dirt, and he could still feel his boyfriend’s arms around him. He was practically in Will’s lap with the way they’d fallen. He probably would’ve hit the ground harder had Will not broken his fall. 

Will let out a disgruntled groan, “What happened? Where are we?”

“I’m not sure.” Nico’s eyes darted around them. He grabbed Will’s hands and unwrapped his arms from around him. He hauled himself to his feet and offered a hand to Will, who took it and pulled himself up. 

Nico was very hyper aware of every physical sensation he was feeling. Everything felt so much more present and real after having that out-of-body experience. It had been so mind boggling he had to double check just to make sure he was in fact in his own body.

“Is that what doing drugs feels like?” He asked out loud, “If so, I am never doing drugs.”

“Not on my watch, you’re not.” Will huffed, wiping the dirt from his shorts, “What were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself killed, death boy!”

“I’m not sure I didn’t.” Nico remarked, scanning his surroundings, “And don’t call me death boy.” 

“Right, sorry.”

Will had begun to glow like a human glow stick, a trait that Nico deeply admired, though he knew Will was self conscious about it at times. It gave enough light to the surrounding area that they weren’t completely submersed in inky darkness any longer, though the farther reaches of the cornfield that Will’s light couldn’t touch still remained hidden in shadows. 

Tempest was gone, along with all of the other campers who had previously been present. The only sound was the wind whistling, and rustling the corn stalks around them. 

“Either way, I’m glad you’re okay now.” Will added, “Don’t scare me like that, Nico. I’m not trying to lose you.”

“I don’t plan on going anywhere.” Nico reassured him, giving his hand a squeeze. He wasn’t much of an affectionate guy, but he loved Will and understood that he needed to be comforted sometimes, “The only place I want to go is out of this corn-”

Before he could finish his sentence, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. 

He spun around, putting an arm out in front of Will. He went to draw his sword, only to realize he didn’t have it. He simply held a hand out towards the darkness.

“Who’s there?” He called out.

There was no response.

“There’s no one there.” Will whispered after a moment of silence, “I’m not sensing any other life near us.”

Will had some weird abilities as a healer son of Apollo, but Nico had never known him to be able to sense life like that without physically touching someone. Maybe there were still things he didn’t know about his boyfriend. 

Nico closed his eyes and reached out into the darkness with his mind. If there was someone lurking somewhere in the shadows, he would know. He would be able to feel their presence. His consciousness raced through the aisles of corn, to the outer reaches of the field. It was endless. It was like an infinite maze of corn, stretching further than even he was able to sense. 

As far as he could tell, he and Will were the only living things in this field.

“There’s no one here, but we’re not alone.” He announced, opening his eyes.

“Yes thank you, babe, that makes a whole lot of sense.” Will said, sarcasm dripping off of his voice. He was in a defensive stance, and Nico realized how silly they probably looked at that moment. They were both standing defensively with their arms out, trying to protect each other. Neither of them had weapons. 

“I mean,” Nico continued, “There’s no one alive here. But darkness is never as empty as it seems. I know better than that. And I definitely saw something.”

Will’s eyes darted around, the blue in them looking almost like a neon sign as he shone from his internal light source, “Well I can’t see shit, cap’n. This is your scene, you lead the way.”

There was an ever so sudden wave of uncertainty in Nico. It was gone as soon as it had come. Nico thought he could hide it well, but there was no hiding things like that from Will. As soon as there was any moment of tension from him, Will would pick up on it.

“It’s okay.” Will said in a soothing tone, “I’m right behind you. You’re not alone.”

Calm washed over him.

They were quite a funny duo. A son of Apollo who could calm anyone with a touch, and literally could harness the power of the sun to make himself glow. And a son of Hades, dark and touch starved, having command over the shadows themselves, who had developed a fear of the dark. Will was like Nico’s own personal nightlight. Metaphorically and literally.

“Tempest brought us here for a reason.” Nico said after taking a moment to center himself, “So I’m thinking maybe we’re not supposed to be finding the exit of this corn field.”

“There’s something in the corn field we’re supposed to find?” Will finished his thought. 

“Yes, that or-” Nico began, but then cut himself off. That’s when he heard it. He thought it had been just an after effect from his little out-of-body experience, from being thrown into this alternate plane of existence or wherever they were, so he hadn’t paid much mind to it. But it was still there, lingering, persistent. The ever slightest ringing in his ears. He was very familiar with ringing in his ears, and it was never a good thing. But in this case, it was the answer to their question.

“Or someone.” He finished. He spun around and slowly turned his head to one side, turning and listening, waiting for the direction where the ringing was the strongest. As soon as he found it, he pointed. 

“This way. Let’s go.”

He grabbed Will’s hand and took off into the corn. Lightning crackled here and there, illuminating the sky, but Will’s light alone was enough to lead the way. They weaved past endless stalks of corn. Every so often, Nico would stop, listen, then take off in another direction, redirecting himself to follow his mental GPS.

“Where are we going?!” Will shouted, his voice thumping with every step as he ran.

“To be completely honest, I don’t know!” Nico shouted back.

“That’s very reassuring!”

“Just trust me!”

“I do!”

As he ran, the ringing got louder and louder, until it was so loud he could no longer hear the wind howling in his ears, or their shoes smacking in the dirt. He thought maybe Will was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear it. 

Finally, after running for who knows how long, they finally broke into a clearing, and Nico halted to a stop. Will nearly slammed into him, but they managed to stay on their feet. 

They both took a second to catch their breath before taking in what they saw before them. In the clearing stood the figure of a large stallion. Now that it wasn’t raining, it was more evident that Tempest really was a storm spirit. Instead of the sleek coat of a regular horse, his body was formed with swirling clouds filled with flickering lightning. Rain poured out from underneath him, spurring up billowing mist around his hooves. His eyes were dark and foreboding. He let out a whiny as he turned, revealing the figure of a person standing behind him.

Nico’s voice caught in his throat as he stared forward. He thought he might’ve cried if he spoke.

He swallowed hard and took a shaky breath, “Jason?”

Jason smiled at him. He had a hand on Tempest’s neck. He wore an old worn sweatshirt, much like one Nico had seen him wearing before. He was wearing his glasses. It was such a relieving sight, not only to see him here, but to see him how Nico had always known him. Not as the way he’d been seeing him the past couple months in his nightmares. With blood stained clothes, no color in his face, glasses gone, cold, dead eyes. He was dead, Nico knew he was dead, but there he was, standing right in front of him, and he didn’t look dead. 

“Hey Nico.” He said, real casual-like, “I see Tempest found you. I’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.”

Will snorted from behind him, but Nico just raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I- what?”

“It’s- you know,” Jason laughed and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, “It was a joke, sorry. Probably not a good way to start this conversation. You’re probably confused.”

Will raised his hand like a student in class, “I can say I am in fact very confused.”

“What’s going on?” Nico asked, taking a step forward, “Jason, I… Apollo told me what happened to you.”

Jason had a somber look on his face as he stroked Tempest’s stormy mane, “I know, I’m sorry.”

Nico shook his head, “Don’t apologize, you have nothing to be sorry for. I miss you, we all miss you, but… You died a hero, Jason. You never have to be sorry that you died.”

“Funny,” Jason gave a small laugh, “As I was dying, I was actually worried about you.”

Nico pointed at himself, “Me?”

“Yeah,” Jason started, “I know it’s hard for you to open up to people, and you opened yourself to me. I was honored to be your friend, but I know you’ve lost a lot of people. So knowing that when I died, you lost another person, I felt pretty shitty.” 

Nico couldn’t help but laugh, “You were literally dying and you were worrying about me? I wasn’t even there.”

Jason scratched his head, “Yeah… But I took solace in knowing that I was protecting my friends. That, and not to toot my own horn or whatever, but I knew I’d be going to Elysium, which meant that I’d get to see Leo again. But when I got there…”

Nico had a realization, “He wasn’t there.”

Jason nodded sadly, “I just don’t understand, why wouldn’t he have gone to Elysium? He should be there.”

“You don’t know.” Will gasped, stepping up next to Nico.

Jason looked up at them, “What do you mean? What don’t I know?”

“Jason,” Nico said, “Leo’s alive.”

Jason’s eyes got wide, shock and confusion on his face, then he exhaled and put a hand on his chest, “That’s such a relief. I might cry right now, seriously. I thought that goof got himself sent to Asphodel somehow. I knew The Fates were cruel, but he doesn’t deserve that.”

“No, no.” Nico shook his head, “He’s alive and fine. And he got Calypso off of her island.”

Jason smiled a large grin, “Really? That’s awesome! Man, I’m so happy for him.”

“Eh, their relationship is questionable, to be honest.” Will remarked, “I’m glad she got off that island and all, but… I won’t get into all of that. But anyway, I stand by my comment about being confused. Can someone please explain what in Hades is going on here?”

“Right.” Jason snapped his fingers, “I sent Tempest to find you, Nico.”

“But…” Nico rubbed his temples, “How? You said you were in Elysium? What is this place? This cornfield? This isn’t exactly how I imagined Elysium.”

Jason laughed, “Right. This isn’t Elysium. I found this place kind of by accident. I think, maybe it’s because I’m a son of Jupiter and all, but I could tell even in the underworld when it was storming in the mortal world. I accidentally stumbled into this weird plane of existence one day while there was a storm up above. I think it’s some kind of in between place? It’s in between the land of the dead and the land of the living. It doesn’t always look like a corn field, this is just how it’s presenting today for whatever reason. Kind of spooky if you ask me. But, I thought if anyone on the living side would be able to enter this place, it would be you, Nico. So I managed to contact Tempest through the storm and sent him to find you. Though, I see you brought a plus-one with you.”

Will gave a casual wave and a lazy grin, “Hi.”

Jason nodded at him, “Hi, Will, it’s nice to see you.��

“It’s nice to see you too.” Will told him, “Kinda weird if I’m being honest, considering, well, that you’re dead and all.”

They both laughed.

“But why did you summon me here?” Nico asked.

“Can’t I want to see my friend?” Jason suggested.

“I- well-”

“Don’t strain your brain thinking about that.” Jason waved his hand, “I know it’s a hard concept to grasp. But I just wanted to talk to you.”

He took a step around Tempest. Nico went to step closer as well, but Jason held out his hand, “Don’t get too close, I don’t want to risk breaking the connection.”

“Right.” Nico took a step back.

“Now don’t fight me on this.” Jason started, “Just let me talk, okay?”

Nico hesitated, then nodded.

Jason gave him a soft look, “I know you struggle, Nico. I know you’ve been through a lot, I know you’ve lost a lot. I can’t say that I can begin to understand how my death affected you, or how anything else you’ve been through has affected you. One of the last times I saw you, and I’m being brutally honest here, Nico, so I’m sorry, but you looked like ass. You were skin and bones, you had no color in your skin. You were sick. I was worried we’d end up losing you even though the war was over. But look at you now! You look great, healthy even. I don’t know what you’ve been through since I’ve been gone, but I can only hope you’ve been getting better. I know it’s an uphill battle sometimes, but I wanted you to know that I believe in you.”

Nico couldn’t help but smile, “I… I think I’m healing. It’s a slow process, but I can feel it happening. All thanks to someone.”

He shot a glance at Will.

Will puts his hands up, “I can’t take any credit for this one, this is all you, sunshine. I’m just here to make sure you’re not doing it alone. Being alone makes pulling yourself out of a hole that much harder. I’m just your alarm clock that doesn’t let you sleep until noon every day and reminds you to take your meds.”

“Which I appreciate.” Nico added.

“I appreciate you too, Will.” Jason butted in, “Thank you for taking care of him. I can tell you make him happy.”

Will kicked the dirt with his shoe, “Aw shucks. It’s my pleasure. Whether he wants to believe it or not, I enjoy his company.”

Jason’s eyes turned to the sky, still rumbling with thunder and lightning. He took a deep, slow breath, “I can feel the storm breaking, we’re running out of time.”

“But there’s so much I want to say to you.” Nico took a step forward before remembering, then leaned back on his heels.

“It’s okay.” Jason reassured him, “You’ll see me again someday. I’m sure of it.”

Nico thought about his sister, Bianca. He had thought he’d get to see her again someday, but after she died, she had decided to be reborn into her next life. It was a guarantee that he would never see her again. He didn’t want the same to happen with Jason.

“Don’t worry about that.” Jason spoke, seeming to be reading Nico’s mind, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve thought about it, but I think I’ve decided to wait to be reborn. There’s too many people I want to see again. I have to see Piper, I have to introduce her to all the cute girls I’ve met here. I have to see Leo, that jerk, making us think he was dead. He’s actually going to die one day and when he does, he’s getting a piece of my mind. Not before I hug him of course, and thank him for saving my life. And I have to see Reyna too… I know things were weird between us but she was my best friend for so long, she’ll always have a place in my heart. Then there’s Frank, Percy, Hazel, Annabeth… all of them, the list goes on and on. And you of course. So… I think I can chill in Elysium for a while. It’s pretty nice here.”

That was a relief to hear. Nico felt selfish for feeling that way, but he was relieved that Jason was deciding to wait. Of course, he would try not to be upset with him if he decided to move on, he went through all that grief with Bianca, and he knew he had grown beyond that. He couldn’t withhold Jason or anyone else from their peace. That was a choice a person had to make themselves, for themselves. 

“Just remember,” Jason continued, “I may be dead, but I’m not gone. When it rains, I’m there with you. When you go outside and you feel the electricity in the air, or when you grab a doorknob and it shocks you, just think of it as me, saying hello. I will always be with you. Death isn’t the end of the line. You of all people should know that.”

Nico wouldn’t admit it, but he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. It was weird to him to know that people cared about him, but it was a realization that he was slowly making. Yes, he was a son of Hades. Yes he was dark and foreboding and creepy sometimes. Yes, he lingered in the shadows and managed to convince himself that he was not welcome anywhere or with anyone, but he was slowly learning that he was very wrong. People liked him for who he was. He remembered Miranda’s words: I’m sorry Nico, but you know how it is. He did know how it was. He was allowed to exist and take up space. He was still trying to convince himself of that, but deep down he knew it to be true. And he didn’t have to do anything alone anymore. 

Lightning streaked across the sky, and thunder shook the ground beneath their feet.

“It’s time for me to go.” Jason announced, “I’m glad things are working out for you. And I’m glad I got to see you one last time. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope it’s a long time before I see you again. Not because I don’t want to see you, but because I hope you’re able to live a long, prosperous life. You’re still so young, I’d hate for you to have the same fate I did.”

“I understand.” Nico told him, “But don’t feel like you have to wait for me. When you feel like it’s your time… do what your heart tells you to do.”

“I don’t feel that way. I know it’s my choice and no one else can make that for me.” Jason gave him a smile, “But my choice is to wait for now.”

Another crack of thunder and lightning. Like a switch, a heavy, thick sheet of rain began to pour onto them. The corn around them shook with the weight of the storm.

“Goodbye, guys!” Jason shouted over the rain, “It was nice to see you both! If only for a few minutes! And Nico! Please don’t forget to eat!”

“Jason, wait!” Nico shielded his eyes from the rain.

“I agree, Will is definitely more your type than Percy!” Jason waved at them, “Don’t tell him I said that, though! You know what, actually do tell him I said that!”

“Jason, I-!”

Suddenly the wind picked up, and the rain turned sideways, and with it so did the world. Nico fell backwards, reaching out and desperately grabbing for Will, who was also now falling. They found each other’s arms as Jason’s feet stayed firm on the ground. Tempest reared as lightning streaked across his body. Rain was pouring straight down onto Nico’s face and soaking his clothes once again. 

Jason waved one last time as the world began to warp around them. Things moved into slow motion once again, Jason became further and further away, the rain forming a sort of wind tunnel around them. Things slowed to the point of feeling like a video, moving frame by frame. Nico and Will were both screaming, but they could no longer hear themselves as the rain roared louder and louder. The ringing in Nico’s ears became so loud, he felt like his mind was being split with an ice pick. 

Until it all stopped.

Nico woke with a start, frantically trying to regain his bearings.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe.”

He turned to see Will next to him, concern in his eyes. He had straw sticking out of his hair.

Nico took a moment to breathe and take in his surroundings. It was daytime, and they were on the ground in what he realized was the pegasi stables at Camp. Their clothes were damp from the rain, but dry enough to make it seem like they’d been laying there for hours. All of the pegasi were in their stalls, looking at the two of them like they were a nuisance for being in their house so early in the morning.

“That was real, right?” Nico asked Will, grabbing his arms, making sure he was really there, “Tell me I didn’t just dream all of that.”

“It wasn’t a dream.” Will seemed unsure, “I don’t think? Whatever it was, it happened. We saw Jason.”

Nico was relieved to hear WIll acknowledge out loud that he’d experienced the same thing and that Nico’s mind hadn’t just made it up. They had really seen Jason. Talked to him, even.

Nico felt some sort of peace at that moment. He felt as though he could lay to rest his lament over Jason’s death. Would he still miss him? Of course. But something was different now.

“We should get back into camp.” Will said, pulling himself to his feet. His butt was covered in dust from the wooden floor of the stables, “Everyone has probably been wondering where we’ve been.”

“”I’ve been wondering where we’ve been.” Nico muttered. Will offered him a hand and he took it, managing to get back onto his own feet. 

“Yeah, that was kinda freaky.” Will agreed, “But kinda awesome at the same time?”

“Tell me about it.” Nico shook his head, “Come on, sunshine, let’s go home.”

They walked to the doors of the stables. As Nico’s fingers touched the handle, a small shock zapped at his fingertips.

He smiled, “Hello to you too, Jason.”

And with that, they left, probably on their way to a week’s worth of dish duty.

[kingkatsuki]

Hai Jo!!

I knew this when you first posted the master list for this kinktober, but don't be mad at me but I am kinda going to skip reading day 4, I am very not into blackmail! (I'm also very not into cheating but that's a different problem lol.)

But I will like and reblog the fic (I already did lol) because maybe one day my mind will change and I will read it, I've went back to fics I didn't think I would like and ended up enjoying them, so this would be no different! Also you wrote it so it's bound to be amazing!! Just not for me right now!!! I'm still going to read most of if not all of your other kinktober fics that you post!!!

Anyway I hope you have a wonderful day/night/or when ever you see this!!!

(Side note I looked at a timezone chart and found out that you are about 5 hours ahead of me, that's why I wrote day/night or whenever, mainly because the time also you could get to this post anytime because you could be super busy when I send this or not super busy, I mean it's 5pm for me when I send this so it's like 10pm for you!)

Omg Courtney, please don’t feel like you have to read or reblog things that make you uncomfy bby. I really really don’t mind and wouldn’t expect you to at all!!! You already support me and make me smile so so much🥺💕

Honestly tho I know what you mean, if someone had told me I’d be reading demon!Bakugou fics last year I would’ve laughed in their face!! I still can’t handle all the kinks in these monster/creature fics tho and I try to squeeze my eyes shut when forked tongues are described but I’m a semi-changed woman😂😂😂 but yeah I’m pretty sure I have a lot of kinks now I didn’t have when I first started writing for BNHA.

Aww!! That time gap isn’t actually too bad! But I still see you awake when I’m getting up in the morning sometimes so I know you’re not sleeping enough😂👀

I hope you’re having a lovely day too! I was lucky enough to have a day off work today so I just relaxed and watched shows, my bf bought me some nightmare before Christmas pjs today tho and it made me so happy🥺😭

[pascalishere]

My experience with therianthropy (so far)

Long rambling post ahead, protracted discussion of growing up autistic, queer, therian, and possibly traumatized. Nothing like, triggering up ahead, it’s just weird and way-too-personal.

I’ve been thinking a lot about myself, as per usual. I mean, what else do people do? I do wonder if I think about myself more than everyone else does, but that’s for another day. Main thing is, I wanna put my experience i writing somewhere. With the side goal of having something for other therians to relate to, and for non-therians to get a perspective of.

Basically, I’ve always felt a very strong connection to dogs. Not in the “Aw, cute dog, serotonin released” kind of way, but in a “god I wish that were me” way. I didn’t notice for a long time, but I get the exact same feeling in my chest looking at dogs as I do people I want to look like, in the GNC sense. There’s that, and a lot of the autistic traits I display are very dog-like! I do the autism t-rex hands, I go nonverbal, I’m easily startled by sudden noise, the list goes on.

So that’s the background. Obviously, being a dog is tangled up in my identity as an autistic person. I think the reason why it took so long for me to grasp my dogginess is because of the semi-unique circumstances in which I was raised. Because for a long while, I forgot I wasn’t human.

From first grade to eighth grade, I was enrolled in Social Skills classes. Which if you don’t know, is where the autistic kids who aren’t “disruptive” enough for Special Education go to learn how to “be normal”. Every other day would be training and developing skills in human communication. This sounds good on paper, but what those classes functionally were was the insistent messaging that “You are not Normal, and that needs to be Corrected.” Having all your disruptive problematic inconvenient natural quirks trained out of you does wonders for your identity and self-esteem. People-pleaser that I am, I tried my best in these courses, and I was actually pretty okay at it. I didn’t realize I was hurting myself. I don’t really remember any of the specific skills or tips that were taught to me back then. All I remember is the distinct feeling that nothing I said or did mattered. The feeling that I could only ever be worth something if I said and did exactly what people wanted.

It took me until last year to start unlearning all that bullshit.

For the majority of my life (first grade to freshman year of college), I hated myself for not being normal. I had no reason to be so weird and off-putting, why was I having such a hard time existing as myself? (The reason was autism, but nobody was willing to admit that) This also extended into my late-bloom realization of being trans, but honestly that’s a story for another day. But still, in regards to both of those aspects, it felt like I was missing something fundamental for a very long time.

But for a brief moment, I liked what I was. Before first grade, I was a puppy. I lived for comfort, play, and being Myself. And there was happiness there. The biggest thing I had to worry about tripping over my own paws (and tonsillitis, but that got squared away). From what glimpses I can remember, there was a carefree separation from people, even back then. I was content to Live. When I entered school, I was still a puppy. When I left, I had been bent and twisted in the shape of a Boy. And I didn’t even know. It’s weird, but I don’t really blame anyone for how things shook out. Nobody knew any better, we all though I was just fine, including me! It was admittedly nice to have a script to fall back on in social settings, but I can’t help but wonder where I’d be if I hadn’t been enrolled in those classes.

And now, through a Rube Goldbergian series of events, I’ve remembered that I was a dog this whole time. And as frustrating as dealing with life is, I think I finally love what I am again.

My head keeps coming back to a much more fantastical interpretation of events, so I might as well spell out that here too.

When I was a child, there was a dog I always played with. It was a husky, with brown and white fur, tiny triangle ears, and my eyes. They were with me every moment, our joy a self-sustaining cycle. We saw ourselves in each other.

But I had to let go, apparently. I remember trying to explain that I didn’t yip and trot and love to be funny, but because it was natural.

So I grew up, I learned how to be human. After a while, my friend didn’t recognize me. She couldn’t understand me anymore, and he cried at me, begging me to listen. But I had learned that their existence was shameful, and caused great distress to those I loved. So I ignored it.

She ran away.

Without him, the weight of living crashed on me. I could sense the utter disdain my peers had for me, the patronizing tone every adult used on me alone. I could feel the dread in my heart clawing from the inside of my chest, where my friend once was.

In time, I forgot about that dog. The shame and anxiety stopped me from inquiring any deeper about my origin.

But one night, too many years later, I noticed something weird. I had spent the corresponding day ruminating on furries, queerness, and neurodiversity. My heart screamed at me all day to stop this line of questioning. Fortunately, I had learned to ignore this feeling most of the time. I had accepted that I fell into all three categories.

And then I looked in the mirror for a moment, just a moment. And I saw a dog. With brown and white fur, tiny triangle ears, and my eyes. I was her, they were me, we were each other in one body. What I was physically seeing did not change, just my interpretation of it. But for the first time in over a decade, my heart stopped pummeling itself. I knew that they came back, and that it would never leave again. I was myself, finally.

Strangely enough, living as a “human” doesn’t seem so impossible anymore. But yeah, I’m happy to be Pascal, the husky. Bark bark woof woof, bitch.

[kkodzvken]

take the dive - sugawara koushi x milf!reader

tags/warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY! slight dubcon, infidelity, post timeskip (suga teaches reader’s kids). overstimulation and slight dumbification, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public (in an empty classroom)

a/n: this is my piece for @ultimate-astridwriting’s milf fuckers collab, which you can find here!! thank you for hosting this astrid, and thank u to everyone in the server for ur love and support as i worked on this <33. title cred: take the dive by jonghyun

wc: 3.9k

Amidst a faculty full of stuffy old dinosaurs and suits, Sugawara Koushi is a breath of fresh air. He’s a welcome distraction, a pretty face to focus on at dull PTA meetings and assemblies. And you knew that you weren’t the only one making heart eyes at him. Everywhere that he went, heads turned, and moms whispered. At the bus stop, on the sidelines of sports matches, in the waiting rooms outside dance classes.

It was just that, though -- just whispers. Little knowing glances and nudged shoulders, dreamy sighs and brief sinful indulgences. Nothing more than a brief escape from the monotony of your everyday lives. You’d lose yourselves in the fantasy for a few seconds, and then pull your heads down from the clouds and plant your feet on solid ground. You enjoyed your gossip with the other moms, and then you returned home, to your husband and children. To your family.

You love them, of course. Your children are your world, and your husband is a good man. He’s a good man, and that’s what made it so hard. He treats you well, keeps his words soft and never once put his hands on you. 

He may be good, but, God, was he boring. You can’t remember the last time that he’d even kissed you, let alone fucked you. He came home later and later each night, too tired from work to do anything but silently scarf down his dinner and plant himself on the couch in front of the television. He dragged himself into bed hours after you did. He tried to be quiet, he really did, but he woke you up every single night with his stomping and shuffling. When you snuggled closer to him, he pushed you off. My back hurts too bad, he’d say, voice tinged with regret. Remind me to book another appointment with the chiropractor. 

It was always some excuse or another. 

So, really, you couldn’t blame yourself for your wandering eye. You weren’t going to act on it, of course -- you weren’t a cheater -- but the young teacher was something to occupy yourself with. A pretty face to fill your thoughts as you wrangled your horde of screaming kids from swim lessons to dance practice to art classes. A pretty, pretty body to imagine as you fucked yourself with your fingers, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to muffle your moans. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was him, lithe body leaning over yours. No complaints of aching backs and sore muscles, none of the complications that came with age. 

You’d leave your husband catatonic on the couch, put the kids to sleep, and then go dream of their hot teacher. You should’ve been more ashamed, but there was a part of you that loved the thrill of it. You flushed whenever you saw Mr. Sugawara the next morning, memories of your illicit thoughts filling your mind, but it also made your body feel electric. 

Of course there was a part of you that longed to throw caution to the wind and jump the young man, but your conscience was much stronger than your weak, lustful thoughts. You were happy with the way things were now. As dull as your husband was, and as insufferable as the children could sometimes be, you were happy. 

This was all you had ever wanted. A house in the suburbs, a husband with a well-paying job, three kids and a dog. You’re living the fucking dream. You’re happy, you tell yourself.

So why the fuck are you so unsatisfied?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With a deep breath, you stare down the heavy glass doors at the school’s entrance. You want nothing more than to find the idiot architect who designed this building, and strangle him for installing pull doors. Your arms are already sore from carrying the giant tray of brownies from your car to the front of the school, and you worry that if you put the treats down to open the door, you wouldn’t be able to lift them up again. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you have two minutes left to reach the gym where the bake sale is being held. The PTA president is notorious for hating latecomers, and you weren’t in the mood to get your head bit off.

You’re debating doing some gymnastics and using your foot to grab the handle, when you notice footsteps approaching from behind you. You open your mouth to ask for help, but they beat you to it. “Let me get the door,” says their syrupy, melodic voice.

Their familiar voice.

Your body practically freezes as a strong arm reaches over your shoulder. Long fingers – fingers that you’ve fantasized about too many times to count – twist the handle and push it open easily. You don’t know how you didn’t notice him approaching sooner, but now that he’s here, your senses are in overdrive. The sweet scent of his cologne, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his body – it’s all too much, and it makes your knees feel weak.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you say, voice coming out much breathier than you intended. This must be some kind of Pavlovian response from all your fantasizing, because there is no reason for your stomach to be twisting right now. “Thank you.”

He grins sheepishly and steps away, and you hate the way that your body screams at you to lean into him. “It’s no problem. Is that for the bake sale? Here, let me carry it for you.”

You try to protest, but there’s really no point. His long fingers are already pushing yours to the sides, and you swear you’ve been electrified as he pulls the tray out of your hands. It’s a shame, really, that he’s wearing a button-down. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, at least, but you would’ve loved to see his biceps flex as he carried that tray…

What am I doing? You dig your nails into your palm to snap yourself out of your thoughts, but it’s hard to stay lucid when he’s so beautiful. He carries the brownies with ease, using just one arm to support their weight as the other holds the door open for you. It should make you upset, that you’re so weak in comparison to him, but the thought just makes you feel even more breathless. He’s so strong, so young, and so unlike your husband.

“Thank you,” you say again as he steps into the building behind you. You reach for the tray, but he waves you off.

“Nonsense. I’ll walk you to the gym.”

“Oh, really, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Anything for my favorite mom.”

His…favorite? His words leave you too stupefied to protest any further, and he takes your silence as compliance. Your body automatically follows in his footsteps as he paces down the hallways.

He looks over at you and smiles comfortingly. It lights up his entire face, but does little to ease your turbulent thoughts.

Your mind is still fixated on his words as you step onto the squeaky wood flooring of the gymnasium. Sugawara calmly walks over to the PTA president, who looks like she’s about to rip her hair out. She’s surrounded by a gaggle of other moms, all jabbering away with concern painted across their faces.

“Is something wrong, ladies?” he asks. His voice snaps them all out of their conversation, and their eyes widen as they take him in.

“Yes,” says the PTA president scornfully. “We were supposed to have the brownies here already! The sale starts in ten minutes, and if this keeps up, I won’t have enough time to inventory everything and make it presentable, and –”

“I have the brownies,” you cut in, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

She blanches, and looks from you to the tray in Sugawara’s arms. An oh is all she can muster before grabbing the brownies and rushing off.

“Is everything okay?” one of the other moms asks, her voice laced with fake sweetness. “Oh, and you look so tired, dear. If you couldn’t manage your part, you should’ve just said so!”

“It would’ve been no trouble,” another woman says. “I’d have had no trouble whipping up a tray for you! Everyone always does love my baking.”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at them. It’s always like this – the other moms seem so in tune with their lives of domestic bliss, playing games of politics and constantly competing to be the best. Try as you might, you just can’t satisfy yourself with a life like theirs.

The material of Sugawara’s shirt brushes against you, and you start. He doesn’t pull away as you flinch, instead gently resting his hand on the small of your back. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal her away? Mrs. (L/N), I have your son’s science fair project sitting in my classroom. He keeps forgetting to bring it home. Would you like to go collect it now?”

You nod, relieved at the excuse to escape these women and their sickening artificial sweetness. Sugawara gently guides you with the hand on your back. You can’t help but internally smirk at the thinly-veiled jealousy on the faces of the other mothers.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Sugawara says, once you’re safely out of earshot. “All these PTA moms are so fake. But you’re not like that, are you?”

You nod, still a bit convinced that this is all a dream. He doesn’t remove his hand from your back as you walk down the hallways, and only pulls away when you reach the door to his classroom. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a ring of keys, before insert one into the knob and pushing the door open. He gestures for you to enter first, and so you do, blinking at the harsh sudden brightness of the automatic lights.

You awkwardly glance around the room. You’ve been here plenty of times before, but that was all during the daytime, when it was packed full of energetic children. It feels…strange, to be alone in a classroom as an adult. Or, well, alone, except for the stupidly attractive teacher that you’ve been lusting over.

“Where’s the project?” you ask, trying to diffuse some of the tension building in your stomach. “I should head home soon.”

Sugawara leans his back against the door and cocks his head. “You know, I know what you say about me.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” His eyes rove across your body, lingering on your chest for far longer than they should. “I’m not deaf, you know. I hear all the things you say about me. You’re just like all the other moms.” He pushes off the door, stalking closer to you. You instinctively take a step back. “Only difference is, you might actually have the guts to do something about it.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, so hard that you think your ribs might bruise. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Sugawara. I-”

You take another step back, and another, and suddenly your back collides with concrete. Your body jolts, and you yelp at the sudden pain.

Sugawara leans closer. One of his hands braces against the board behind your head, and the other one comes up to cradle your face. His long fingers hook under your chin and press, forcing you to tilt your head up and meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lip, and you can’t deny how the sensation makes your body feel like jelly.

Every rational thought in your mind is screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away from him and go back to your husband, but God, it’s been so long since you’ve felt like this. It’s been so long since someone’s made your heart race and your breaths quicken, since someone’s made you blush like a schoolgirl over a simple touch.

“What was that you said?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You swallow and bite the inside of your cheek. The pain does nothing to clear the fog inside your mind. “I-I don’t, I-”

“You do,” he interrupts, his thumb still toying with your lip. “You’re so fucking obvious. I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Sugawara!” His lewd words make you gasp, but more than anything, you hate the fact that he’s right. Your body has a mind of its own, and it wants nothing more than to wrap your lips around his thumb and pull him closer. It wants to feel his arms wrapped around you, feel his body towering over you.

But you can’t. As much as you want to, you can’t, because you have a husband at home who’s waiting for you. Sure, he isn’t home right now, because he’s putting in extra hours at the office. And sure, he hasn’t touched you or made you feel desired in weeks. Hell, you haven’t had a genuine conversation in weeks. But he’s still your husband! You try and remind yourself of that. You roll the thought around in your head, hoping that it’ll push your thoughts of Sugawara away.

But the young teacher is persistent, and there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes your chest tighten. “Call me Koushi, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess –”

“What, you’re going to pretend that it didn’t make you wetter? Going to pretend that you aren’t clenching your thighs together right now?” He leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes against your ear as he whispers. “Your body doesn’t lie, baby.”

A whine slips past your lips at his words, and then you gasp, mortified with yourself. But the grin that covers his face makes your transgression worth it, because God, he’s handsome. His hand squeezes your chin even tighter, and then trails down to your neck. Your breath catches in your chest. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, of his fingers trailing across your skin, his touch feather-light. It leaves you aching for more.

You instinctively whine again, and he lets out a noise of surprised delight. “Whining like this, and you’re still denying that you want me? What’s got you so embarrassed?”

“I have a husband,” you hiss – or, at least, you try to hiss. It comes out more like a whimper than anything else.

Sugawara looks at you for a beat – and then throws his head back and laughs. It catches you off guard, and you furrow your brow. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

He collects himself, but his eyes are still gleaming when he looks back at you. “Sure, you have a husband. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about me, does it? Tell me, when’s the last time that your husband took care of you? When’s the last time that he touched you, or fucked you, or made you feel good?”

“Mr. Sugawara, this is inappropriate–”

“Stop lying to yourself.” His voice suddenly drops, his stare forceful and deadly serious. “Say the word, and I’ll go. We can pretend this never happened. But anyone with eyes can tell that you’re unsatisfied.”

“I…I don’t…” Your thoughts feel like a wave, building higher and higher. They bounce around your head, reverberating against your skull, so loud that you can’t even think.

“Why are you settling?”

“Mr. Sugawara, please, I–”

“Why are you settling, when you know you want more?”

The wave crests.

You don’t know who moves first, but somehow, your fingers are tangled in his hair, and his lips are slotted against yours. It’s not soft, or sweet – it’s a mess of teeth and tongues and feverish breaths. His hands are everywhere. They trail over your skin, explore the curves of your chest and your stomach, grip tightly at your waist to pull you closer.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you pant against his lips. Your lungs scream for oxygen, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away from him for even a second. He kisses so well. It may be rushed, and messy, but there’s so much hunger behind his actions that it makes your head spin. It’s like his lips are a live wire, and every second that they touch yours, they send a thousand volts of electricity arcing through your body.

“Koushi,” he breathes. “Call me Koushi, please.” You nod, and then hurriedly undo the buttons of his shirt, popping a few off in the process. Neither of you care. His hands finally dip beneath the hem of your dress, and he wastes no time in unceremoniously tugging it off your body.

Your hands instinctively go to cover yourself. Age and childbirth have changed your body, and you know that Mr. Sugawara – no, Koushi – is probably used to beautiful young women. You still don’t understand why his eye landed on you. He surely has dozens of girls his age fawning over him, with flat stomachs and perky tits. Why you?

He grips your wrists and pries your hands away from your body. “Don’t do that,” he says, so gentle in contrast to the fire from just moments ago. “Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.”

Oh.

You can’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful. You can’t remember the last time that you felt beautiful.

But right now, with Koushi staring at you, eyes blown out with lust… you feel it.

He sinks onto his knees, lips already pressing little kisses against your hips and upper thighs. You try and protest – really, Koushi, you don’t have to – but he shushes you instantly. He hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder and dives in without hesitation. Even through the fabric of your panties, you’re in fucking heaven. His tongue laves against your clit, focusing so much attention onto the swollen bead that you can’t help but let out a moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. You’re in an elementary school, for God’s sake. The bake sale is at the other side of the large building, but you’re terrified of someone walking past and catching you. Guilt swirls around your heart, but it’s quick to dissipate when Koushi tugs your panties off and throws them over his shoulder. He buries himself into your cunt again, and it’s even better without the barrier. The coil in your stomach is tightening embarrassingly fast, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care. His tongue laps at your folds, slurping lewdly.

The pleasure is overwhelming. Your body moves of its own accord. Your hips grind against Koushi’s face, and he moans right into your cunt. His lips move up to your clit again, alternating between licking and sucking. You’re so focused on his mouth that you barely notice his fingers, so long and pretty, collecting your wetness.

You do notice when he fucks two of those pretty fingers into you. He immediately starts scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, before hooking them against that spot inside of you that makes your head spin. Your entire body is shaking with euphoria, so much that you can’t handle it.

“Close,” you cry out, trying to keep yourself upright. “Close, close, please, don’t stop!”

He moans into you again when you tug at his hair. It’s the push that you need to finally fall over the edge. You bite into your palm to keep from screaming as you gush all over him, chest heaving and eyes tearing up.

He keeps curling his fingers, keeps lapping at your clit, until you tug on his hair and cry that the overstimulation is too much. As he lets your leg down and stands up, he makes a show of licking your cum off his fingers, slurping on them loudly. It would make you embarrassed, but you’re too focused on his other hand as it dips down to his belt. The muscles of his stomach flex as he undoes the buckle. You take the opportunity to rake your eyes over his toned torso. He seems so slender when he’s dressed, but his shoulders are surprisingly broad.

He looks up at you with a little smirk. “Caught you staring,” he teases. You blush as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock. It’s already hard, and so pretty, just like him. His tip is red and dripping with precum. You want so badly to get a taste, but Koushi has other plans. He spins you by your shoulders, and then presses at the small of your back to make you lay across his desk.

You groan when you feel him slap his cock against your ass a few times, before running it through your folds to collect your wetness. “Please,” you gasp. “No teasing, please.”

“Just came, and you’re already needy?” he chuckles. “That husband of yours must really not be satisfying you.”

You’re spared from having to think of a retort by him sinking into you. A cry leaves your lips, but it’s too good for you to even care about the sound. He feels like heaven as he sinks into you. His cock stretches you out deliciously.

You’re already feeling delirious as he starts to shallowly thrust and work his way in. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. “So – fuck…”

You can’t do anything but moan and scratch at the table as he starts to fuck into you in earnest. His cock is perfectly curved to hit your spot every time, and soon you’re reduced to a mess underneath him. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust. It hurts, it’s all too much, but it’s so fucking good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure like this – mind numbing and all consuming, so powerful that it makes your eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he groans again, bending down so that he can loom over you and leave little bites all over your back and shoulders. “Not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that, shit!”

“Faster, please,” you beg, and he obliges. He sets an absolutely brutal pace, somehow managing to fuck you hard, fast, and at the perfect angle all at once. Moans and cries spill freely out of your open mouth. When he reaches forward to toy with your clit, it’s all too much, and it sends you over the edge again. Your body practically spasms as he fucks you through your second orgasm. He shows you no mercy, gives you no time to come down. You don’t know if you’re coming again, or if you just never stopped. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and overstimulation.

You’re a twitching mess by the time that he pulls out, but you still whine at the loss. You’re far too fucked out to turn around and look at him, but in the corner of your consciousness, you can hear him panting and stroking himself furiously. His moans are so beautiful. Within a few short seconds, he’s coming all over your ass, painting your pretty skin white with his seed.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there before he taps your cheek to get your attention. “C’mon now,” he says, a tired smile on his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We wouldn’t want your husband finding out, would we?”

[juletheghoul]

Hey sweetie, hope you're doing well. Better than me I hope, in this Texas heat!!!😥🤤 When your muse permits, may I please have some more Dave York? I am a shameless slut for that suburban murder Dilf!!!

Hello lovely!

Okay - so I've written more for the soft!Dave fic I gave a preview for in this post and here and this picks up where that left off.

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader (soft!dave)

Smut under the cut (18+ NO MINORS semi-public touching, p in v sex, oral-female receiving) (word count 2.6k)

All in all it had gone better than he thought. He enjoyed your company - he found you attractive and you liked him. That was all he needed. The fact that you made him laugh had been a bonus. You were his new mission and it wouldn’t have mattered what you were like in all honesty but this was good. This he could work with.

He hadn’t meant to kiss you like that, he planned to take it a little slower, just a little peck to show you he was interested. He definitely didn’t expect you to open up for him like that, and he definitely didn’t expect to enjoy it so much. Another bonus.

He didn’t want to scare you away by reaching out too quickly, figuring a couple of days should be time enough. He wanted to make sure this worked out. He expected the same game of cat and mouse men and women have been playing with each other forever. He had waited to message you - which meant he would probably hear from you in a few hours.

-Hi - It’s Dave from the other night, wondering if you wanted to grab dinner on Friday?

He was doing some reconnaissance for an upcoming job and he wanted to read through his reports; he wasn’t expecting you to respond so quickly. Frankly, it was refreshing.

-Hey! Yes I’d love to, really happy to hear from you =)

He smiled despite himself, he didn’t expect you to be so open and honest.

-I’m glad to hear, I had a great time

He could see you typing your response before he put his phone down so he waited.

-Me too, thought maybe I’d scared you away - usually don’t make out on the first date

-Me either - glad we did though, you definitely did not scare me away. Just at work right now. Maybe we could talk more later?

-Sure! Hope you have a great day =)

-You too!

----

He kept up the communication with you when he got home, answering your messages as he cooked himself a small dinner. He asked you all the questions people usually ask when getting to know someone, he flirted the best he could. He was doing everything in his power to make sure you were interested, without being vulgar. He briefly considered whether this was manipulation, presenting himself in a way he knew you’d respond to in order to secure a relationship. In a sense everyone did this, the difference was they liked the people they were chasing.

He didn't not like you, he just didn’t really like anyone. It all came from his training and subsequently, his job. He learned long ago to not hold onto anyone too close, it hurt more when you lost them.

This was good though, he was content.

----

You couldn’t lie to yourself about how excited you were when Friday came around. He was consistent which was really important to you, he kept up with the messages and asked you actual questions and he seemed interested. It had been so long since you’d dated someone, since you felt excited about someone and seeing his messages gave you butterflies.

You had to stop yourself from running to the door when he knocked; you did your absolute best to reign in your heartbeat as you opened the door.

“Hi - hope I’m not too early.” He smiled - giving you a not so subtle onceover which made you momentarily self-conscious of your outfit choice; he must have taken notice of your expression.

“You look beautiful, are you ready to go?”

“Thank you - you look really handsome - Yes I’m ready.” You smiled as you grabbed your purse and locked your door.

You didn’t think this date could have gone better than the first but it did. He was charming, he was sweet and most importantly he made you laugh. His sense of humour was a lot like yours, dry and witty although you knew you could be a bit goofier than him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up too high but you really liked his company and although it was still early, you could see this getting more serious.

When he walked you to your front door you didn’t play coy.

“I hope you don’t think less of me, but I really want you to kiss me.” You moved closer - peering up at him through your lashes, hoping that you looked sexy.

“I hope you don’t think less of me, but I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.” He was smirking at you and you felt yourself flush. His hand almost engulfed your face as he pulled you in closer.

The kiss was searing; his tongue licked the seam of your mouth - asking for permission which you gladly gave. He deepened it further, pressing you up against your front door- his hands moving from your face to your waist. He slanted his mouth to get deeper, to make you ache. Your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him closely while you pressed your body as close to him as you could. It went on longer than it had any right to.

When he pulled away you were both panting.

“I had a really great time, goodnight.” He kissed you softer then and waited for you to make your way inside. Any longer and you would have pulled him into the house with you by his belt. You were happy he made the decision for you.

----

You had a few more dates and they were going better than you had imagined. He had come over for dinner one night, which ended in a very heavy makeout session on your couch before he went home. He was being really respectful which you appreciated, you really liked him and in the back of your mind you were nervous that he’d lose interest as soon as you gave it up. It was frustrating, because you were reaching your limit.

----

You walked through the parking lot with him hand in hand, on your way into the theatre. He had let you pick the movie - horror of course - and you were excited to cuddle up with him. You had a plan tonight and it sent a hot spike of arousal through your belly.

He didn’t let you pay for anything usually but you insisted he at least let you pay for the snacks, it didn’t seem like he would let you but you gave him a pout and he relented. Smiling good naturedly and grumbling about not making that pout a habit.

You lifted the seat divider as soon as you picked out your seats, making your intentions of getting close quite clear. He seemed to have the same idea; bringing his arm around you and firmly tucking you into his side.

He smells so good you thought to yourself as you leaned into the crook of his neck, barely paying attention to the trailers. His palm rubbed at your arm through the soft material of your sundress as the movie started, the both of you getting lost in it briefly. When it got too gruesome or scary you tucked your face into his neck, bringing your hands up to block out the screen.

You felt him chuckle then, his low velvety voice whispering in your ear.

“We can leave if you don’t want to watch this.” He said it without judgement, caring only for your comfort even though this could have been an excuse for him to have you close. It hardened your resolve.

“No, I want to stay, but I think I'd like it better if you distracted me.” You gave him a mischievous smile, hoping he’d take the hint. Thankfully - he did.

He tipped your chin up and kissed you softly at first, but deeper as time went on. This was going to work, you could feel his desire for you in it. You were afraid he’d be scandalized at what you wanted him to do but you couldn’t wait anymore. You tentatively reached for the arm around your shoulder and brought down to grab your breast. He pulled away suddenly and it made you nervous - maybe he wasn’t into this.

“Here?” He wasn’t scandalized, he was wearing a smirk - seemingly enjoying the thought of it, feeling you up in the movie theatre like a teenager.

“Do you want to? It’s okay if you don’t.” he could see your self-doubt written across your face.

“Only if you promise to be quiet for me.” He whispered it into your ear and you almost let out a moan. He kissed you again and this time you felt his hand dip into the breezy neckline of your dress, surprising you even further by reaching into your bra. He held you close, moving his kisses to your jaw, your pulse point - rolling your nipple between his fingers by the time he reached your ear.

You were breathing a little heavy as he pulled at it slightly, anyone could have looked over and seen the two of you but it didn’t matter - not when it felt so good.

“Is this what you wanted? Does it feel good, baby?” He spoke in a low voice as he bit your ear and you could feel the arousal leaking out of you. He pinched at the other through the fabric as he kissed you again and it was too much, you grabbed at his thigh, breathing out a god yes as he continued his ministrations.

“I wish I could lick them right now, bite them a little bit, would you let me?” He was pulling at the collar of your dress slightly, enough for him to see into your dress a little.

“Right now? What if someone sees?” You were asking even though the thought of his mouth on your tits in the middle of a movie theatre almost made you cum in itself.

“I would be really careful, just a little lick.” He kissed your neck as he spoke and you realized then that you would have let him do whatever he wanted.

“Okay - fast though.” You laughed conspiratorially - you felt reckless and wild, and excited to have him touch you this way. He pulled you close to him, turning in his seat slightly and quickly pulled your dress down along with the cup of your bra. Seeing your breast out while there were -admittedly- very few people in the movie theatre caused your heart to race. He kept his word though, quickly lowering his head to lick your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue around it had you biting your lip to keep your mouth shut. He couldn’t just have one though, pulling down the other cup to lavish the other one with the same attention and then quickly adjusting it so you were decent again.

You didn’t think you could make it through this movie with how your body was responding to him. Your panties were sticking to your body, your slick running freely and his words only served to amp up the arousal.

“Look what you did to me.” He brought your hand to the sizeable bulge in his jeans. You gasped slightly at the size, and suddenly you didn’t want to be in the theatre any more.

“Take me home David, now.” Your tone was iron and he didn’t argue; hastily pulling you up out of your seat in his haste to obey. The grip he had on your waist as he walked through the theatre and through the parking lot made you laugh with nervous excitement. You saw that he had an intensity about him that had you clenching painfully around nothing.

When you arrived at your place you practically ran inside; you had barely managed to close your door when he picked you up. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tightly as he held onto your ass. He walked you towards your room, pausing briefly to push you up against the wall in the hallway, halfway up the stairs, your bedroom door. Finally dropping you onto your bed.

He fell onto you and ground his hips against the soft fabric at your core. He was so thick, the pressure of him grinding into you was just right and you pulled at his shirt - wanting to feel his skin against you and when he took over you sat up to pull your dress off. He had your bra off faster than you thought possible.

“So pretty.” He dove in, sucking and biting at your nipples - drawing out whimpers and moans as you held his head close to your chest. You could see his saliva glistening on the soft skin of your tits when he alternated from one to the other and you couldn’t hold off any more.

“Please fuck me.” You pulled his face up from your chest to breathe the words into his mouth, the coil in your belly was already wound tight and he hadn’t even gone near your pussy yet.

“I didn’t bring a condom.” He looked a bit sheepish now, hoping against hope you’d have one.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean - but we can do other things if you aren’t comfortable.” You stroked his face softly, trying to convey that you wanted him either way. He hastily got up and took the rest of his clothes off while you shimmied out of your underwear. His cock bobbed out when he finally shed his layers, the tip of it weeping slightly - making your mouth water. He was bigger than your last sexual partner and though intimidated slightly, you were excited.

He crawled towards you as you watched him, settling his face between your thighs.

“You liked it when I licked your nipples baby? Look how wet and glossy you are.” He licked a strip from your fluttering entrance to your clit; he parted you with his tongue and focused on your clit, letting his saliva drip down to make you wetter. The steady glide of his tongue drove you into a frenzy. You barely registered your hands grabbing his hair, using him to grind yourself against his tongue. You were not going to last, you could feel yourself careening over the edge. The wave of it quickly racing up to crash over you. When he slowly slid two thick fingers into your cunt and curled them just so, the wave crested. Your body seizing up with the force of your climax.

“You taste so good baby.” He kissed your mound, the dip in your hip; he slowly made his way up the soft skin of your belly, pausing to give each nipple a quick lick before he settled between your legs. You felt the heavy weight of him sliding through your folds, the blunt tip of him nudging at your clit making you wince with overstimulation before he gradually fed himself into you.

He wrapped your legs high on his waist and rocked into you at a steady pace, you could see from his ragged breathing he was trying not to jack hammer into your wet heat, he was trying to make himself last.

The stretch of him was delicious, you felt full and his cock was hitting something that made you fall silent; made your eyes clench shut against his neck. You could tell he was getting close when he crushed you underneath him, resting almost all of his weight on top of you while he snapped his hips forward harder and harder. The sound of your joining a wet slap as he moaned in your ear - whispering about how good your pussy felt, how tight and wet it was, how he was going to cum- but not before he felt you cum first. He reached between you to rub little circles onto your clit, begging you to cum around him.

You obeyed, and he didn’t hold out much longer.

------------

Tagging a few people I think might enjoy:

@foli-vora @ezrasbirdie @quica-quica-quica @beskarboobs @wheresarizona @absurdthirst

[stars-falling]

late night at the local convenience store (elriel)

summary: elain, desperate for snacks, visits her local store late at night and bumps into her supposed rival (and he's hot).

prompt: esteemed rival chefs find each other shamefully buying ramen at 3 in the morning AU

word count: 1985

note: welcome to the first july upload! this piece was written for a writing month challenge and i had great fun with it! i'm really excited for the other pieces i'll be posting over the next month. i hope you enjoy them as much as i enjoyed writing them! i'll continue working on other pieces over the month too, so there will be more coming after july (hopefully i can finally finish part 2 of both a storm and a summer's day).

in the meantime, hope you enjoy!

lily (tysm for 760 followers btw! love you all <3)

read here on ao3 // masterlist

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Archeron’s Kitchen was the most popular restaurant in Velaris. It had the best food, the best drinks, the best atmosphere, and Elain had never been more proud to say that she was the Head Chef. It had taken years of hard work from both her and her two sisters to reach the level they were at now and they only continued to grow. The sisters worked closely together: Nesta (the eldest) directed the finance and other admin, Feyre (the youngest) worked on the design aspects and managed the staff and Elain manned the menus and the actual cooking. They worked well together, with only minor disagreements happening occasionally, and soon they had rocketed to the most well known and sought after restaurant in Velaris.

This was why she was contemplating her life choices as she pulled up to the local convenience store to buy ramen at 3 am. It wasn’t even the nice ramen; it was the crappy 50p packet of ramen that took less than a minute to cook. She often tried to utilise her skills to cook herself the healthiest and tastiest meals but recently she had been working overtime due to another restaurant's rising popularity. The two staff had even formed some sort of rivalry, trash-talking each other in the streets and slandering the other restaurant to their patrons. She found it childish, so Elain didn’t partake, but she did find it mildly amusing. The new restaurant was several streets over and it was the opposite of Archeron’s Kitchen in every way. Where they were warm and cosy, Starfall was sleek and modern. Where they focused on comfort foods, Starfall served new and innovative dishes. People went to the Archeron’s for the food, whereas people went to Starfall for the experience. And where the Archeron’s Kitchen was run by three sisters, Starfall was run by three brothers.

She had never actually met them. She knew their names and what they looked like but in terms of interactions she had only caught a glimpse of two of them once before. They had stood in the main square with Feyre and Nesta arguing about the importance of serving classic food. Her sisters had both come away grumbling about ‘upstart assholes with no sense of tradition’. As far as Elain was aware, the two brothers they had argued with weren’t actually in charge of the menu, making her unsure if they had full authority over the subject, but she didn’t want to start them off again so she refrained from mentioning it.

Elain pulled into an empty parking space and took a moment to lay her head against the headrest and close her eyes. She was tired and hungry. There was no food in the fridge, her bank account was looking quite sorry for itself and she still had more menus to plan and ideas for new dishes to brainstorm. Steeling herself, she hauled herself out of the car and locked it as she walked to the bright light of the store. She pulled the hood of the tattered sweatshirt she wore over her head as a precaution against recognition. With the status of a semi-famous chef, she didn’t want anyone to see her in the somewhat pitiful state she was in. The bell rang as she pushed open the door, signalling her entrance. The bright flickering lights and cool temperature made it feel like she was entering a separate dimension, one that lacked all sense of time and direction. Elain nodded at the cashier as she walked past them, making a beeline to the snacks aisle. She was greeted by a wide range of ramen, the different flavours and prices making it difficult to choose. She had about £1.50 in her purse and she desperately wanted a coffee too so she would have to be frugal. She was so engrossed with her ramen selection that she failed to notice a person coming up beside her. When she swivelled around to check the time on the obscenely large digital clock above the checkout, she crashed into them hard, causing her, them and the copious amounts of ramen they had piled in their arms to go flying to the floor.

Elain let out a yelp as she landed hard on her tailbone and felt her face heat up.

“I am so sorry!”

A deep, warm chuckle floated toward her and her head snapped up to look at its source. She found hazel eyes staring back. A large man with tan skin and dark hair sat in front of her, surrounded by many colourful packets of ramen. Her heart fluttered slightly as he smiled at her. He was handsome, even in this shitty convenience store lighting at 3 am dressed in similar attire to her.

“Don’t worry about it. I should have been paying more attention. Are you okay?”

She nodded before sitting up fully and helped to gather the ramen that lay around them. He smiled at her gratefully and they sat in content if not slightly awkward silence as they pulled the packets into a pile before finally rising. As she looked closer at him, a spark of recognition kindled within her.

“Do I know you?”

He looked at her curiously, tilting his head.

“I’m not sure but you do look familiar.”

They stood analysing each other. Normally the staring would make her uncomfortable, but with him, she found it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have. This went on for about a minute before she saw realisation set into his eyes.

“You’re Elain Archeron. The Head Chef for Archeron’s Kitchen. Why are you buying shitty ramen at 3 am? Shouldn’t you have made yourself a three-course meal by now?”

Elain felt something drop inside her. She hadn’t noticed that her hood had fallen off when she fell, exposing her and her shameful ramen buying to the whole world. But as he laughed softly, she remembered where she recognised him from.

She scowled at him as she said, “ Well you’re Azriel Knight, Starfall’s Head Chef, so you can’t exactly talk.”

She gestured to the stack of ramen that she had just helped pile into his arms. He turned away slightly as if to hide them.

“My stash had run out, okay. I need it to keep me going when I stay up late planning dishes.”

“I get that. That’s why I’m here right now.” She replied and a mutual understanding passed between them.

Elain knew she shouldn’t be talking to him right now, the reminders of the supposed rivalry between the two restaurants loomed like a shadow behind her. But the longer they spent together, the more she found herself not caring.

“I feel like we should be arguing,” He told her. “If my brothers were here, they would have been kicked out for yelling by now.”

She smiled, “Same for my sisters. But I’ve never really cared to be honest. I just want to focus on the food, not a silly competition that people seem to be taking too seriously.”

He nodded in agreement and they both began to walk to the cashier.

“So, what kind of dishes are you planning then?” She asked. “I promise I won’t steal any ideas. It’s not my style anyway.”

“I”m not a hundred percent sure on the actual contents of the dish right now, but I’m currently trying to create a more experimental menu. We recently unveiled a new line of drinks that have a more theatrical element to them. Colour changing, dry ice, bubbling, the whole shebang and I wanted to design a food menu that went along with that.”

He turned away from her to pay the cashier, giving her a moment to turn over his words in her head. She’d gotten a glimpse at some of the drinks and food from when she had taken a look at (read: stalked) their website and various social media sites. She had called it ‘scouting out the competition' when really she was curious to see what had set them apart enough for them to have such a rise in patronage. Whilst it wasn’t her style, she had always thought that she’d like to visit them and try what they had to offer. That was until the stupid rivalry had started and just walking by the restaurant was asking for trouble. Azriel finished paying and grabbed the plastic bag the cashier had placed his ramen in, moving out of the way so she could step up to the counter.

“That sounds amazing!” She replied. ‘I admit, I’ve always wanted to try some of your food but unfortunately, my sister’s might disown me if I even mention it. Calling them over-competitive would be the understatement of the century.”

He laughed at this and she took the opportunity to turn away and press the 50p coin into the cashier's hand. They nodded at her, satisfied and she turned back to Azriel. Together, they walked out of the door and into the cool night.

“I’d say you should stop by, but as you said, our siblings may not be too happy about that.” He let out a sigh. “As much as it amused me at first, I do wish we could just get along. I’d like to come and try some of your food too.”

He swivelled towards her, the white light from the store casting his face into shadows.

“I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but would you like to grab some coffee?”

She smiled at him, shoving the packet of ramen into her hoodie pocket.

“I’d love to. And maybe in the future, we could make some of our food for each other.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Like a date?”

She felt dread trickle in. Maybe she had misread the situation. They seemed to have been getting on well, and she had caught him checking her out when they first bumped into each other. Plus, he had just asked her to grab coffee with him. Perhaps he was just being friendly.

She swallowed anxiously before replying, “Yeah. If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

He smiled at her brightly, making her heart stutter and skip a beat.

“I’d like that.”

They stood under the streetlamps in an almost abandoned parking lot. Two head chef’s from popular restaurants with bad ramen and a budding connection between them.

“What are you feeling? Starbucks or maybe that local coffee shop down the street? I think it’s called Veritas?”

Elain hummed as they started walking along the road.

“Veritas, I think. I can get a cup of tea for a pound.” She reached into her pocket to show him her single coin.

For the second time that evening (or was it morning?), he raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought I was buying?”

She glanced at him in confusion. “Since when?”

“I thought since I had asked you it was implied?”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “My god, we are bad at this. I think we need to get out of the kitchen more.”

“I’m not sure about that, I’ve got plenty of pick up lines I've stolen from my chefs.” He stepped in front of her, stopping her in her path. “Baby, you’re the crème to my brûlée.”

She groaned, hitting him on the arm as she pushed past him. “That was so bad! I might leave.”

“As if you could do better.”

She pulled out her phone, searching up ‘chef pick up lines’. She grimaced, “These are all so sexual! I think it might be best if we keep flirting out of the kitchen.”

They both doubled over in fits of laughter before continuing down the street. She was glad she gave in to her cravings and went to buy ramen at 3 am. She could tell that whatever this was, it was going to turn into something great.

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taglist + others who might be interested!

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let me know if you would like to be added/removed from my tag list!

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Wendy!!!! I'm so sorry for seeing the request fic so late, I thought my ask didn't go through because Tumblr ate it up, but thank you so much for the Geto semi-angst fic, it got me in the feels😭😭😭 I love your work, you feed us so many amazing contents on the daily, it's just a God-given gift (no cap). This is a PSA: Tumblr fic writers are amazing, a gift to the Universe. Thank you for existing 🥺.

Also, also, also, my friend and I have been making up all these scenarios in our heads where Geto is a Sociology professor at a prestigious university, an epitome of conformity, but, he is also an underground tatoo artist who fights for the greater cause and sticks up for the underdog.

So, can I request a Geto x fem reader, where reader is a student at his Uni, and then comes across him at the tatoo place, and after all the wildin', he ends up giving her a tatoo? Only if you are free though. P.S. the Lemonade Toji fic was so sweet😭

P.P.S: Congratulations on your 900 follower milestone!!!

I am gonna stop now, this looked like a word vomit, I hope this is not too much.

- (Your pace anon)🥀

🥀 anon, this is too sweet! I'm so glad you enjoyed Your Pace - it was actually a lot of fun to write!

I'm so glad you're enjoying the other works as well. I'm happy that you're happy with my work. (I've never gotten a tattoo done for myself [yet] but I have been with friends who got them done. And I did extra research. Now I want to get my tatt done so bad lol)

NOW, ON WITH THE SHOW!

Inked: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.2k

tw: none

masterlist

"Yo! What can I do you for?

The tattoo parlor is really... "underground". That's what Eileen had said. And you can't help but be discomfited by the sight of a bunch of men around the parlor and not a single woman, except you.

"Um..." You clutch your handbag a little closer as you walk up to the man behind the counter, his long, black nails and tattooed face making you even more nervous. "I... I was wondering if you could give me my first tattoo." He's outfitted in a black sleeveless muscle shirt, and he crosses his tatted arms, tilting his head at you.

"Got something in mind?" The man raises a brow as you shuffle around in your bag for what you had thought up: the outline of a letter with your grandfather's signature on it. When you present it to the man, he snatches it up, eyes roving over the design and then back to you. "This it?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Eileen told me to mention her when I came in. She couldn't be here, but she said you guys would take good care of me." The sounds of uproarious laughter behind you make you flinch, and the man looks you over once, then hands you back your design.

"Listen, I don't do first-timers. Eileen knows I prefer the more... experienced clients. But let me ask around and see if someone will be willing to take on the challenge. You squeamish?" You shake your head no. "Ticklish?" You pause, thinking about all of the places on your body that tend to be susceptible to touch, then shake your head no. "Okay, I'll be back."

The pink-haired man walks around the shop, peering at some of the men who are working and asking the others who aren't busy if they're willing to work on you. A few say no, and when he disappears into a small room in the back, you fear the worst. You hoped by mentioning Eileen that they would be more than willing to tattoo you - she's a favorite for more reasons than one around this shop - but it appears that no one is willing until the man comes back up to the front desk and sighs.

"Right, so," he exhales as he spreads his hands on the desk. "I have our most experienced man in the back willing to work on you. Since it's your first time, he's going to make sure you're taken care of." You walk back to the small room with the man and past a bead curtain, facing the chair you'll be sitting in and a man with long black hair facing a computer for a second before he turns around.

When his black eyes meet yours, you gasp, and he smiles even wider, eyes lighting up with recognition. You can barely contain your surprise as you sputter out,

"Professor Geto?"

"Y/n!" The pink-haired man frowns, stepping back a little.

"You two know each other?"

"Yeah, y/n is one of my former sociology students. She sat in the second row, right next to Eileen." Your eyes are too busy taking in the vast array of tattoos your professor has, his grey shirt sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. You spot a compass, a snake, a Leviathan, a skull, a jaguar... You lose count at sixteen tattoos as the men go back and forth about his daytime career, discussing the ethics of tattooing former students, and why the pink-haired man was so concerned when he tattooed Eileen all the time, despite being her brother's best friend.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." The pink-haired man gripes, walking off.

"So, can I see what you've got there?" You instantly stretch out your hand and offer him the design to scrutinize. His eyes drift over the page before he turns back to the computer, beginning to sketch it over again. "Where do you want it?"

"Right below my ribcage." Geto hums, nodding.

"I got it. Give me a few minutes to finish this and then you can take a look at the design." You look around the small room as he works on the design, taking stock of the "Yellow Peril" posters and socialist rhetoric posted everywhere.

"You're a sociology professor at this conservative university... but you've got Karl Marx framed on your wall." You laugh, a little baffled at the absurdity of it all. Here is Professor Geto, handsome as hell, normally all dressed up in his black mock turtleneck and tan suit, wearing simple glasses and discussing the human condition during the day, but by night... still handsome as help but an underground, socialist tattoo artist.

"Where else should I go? The echo chamber that would be a liberal university? Or should I go out and try to expose other ideologies to people who may be open to them and sharing them with their friends?" You hum at the thought, nodding.

"That makes a lot of sense."

"Take a look at it," The man offers, turning around in his chair and handing you the sketch. You look at it - and it's virtually the same, so you nod and Geto smiles. "Alright, show me where exactly you want it."

You roll up your shirt and point to the spot, and Geto applies the stencil transfer, then peels it off, leaving the outline behind. You watch as he begins to prepare his equipment, moving methodically to avoid mistakes or mishaps. A thin layer of ointment is applied to the transfer and when he's ready, he looks up at you and you inhale deeply.

"You ready?" You nod quickly.

"Let's get this over with." The machine begins to whir, and you brace yourself for impact.

"Don't hold your breath," the black-eyed man warns. "Just breathe in and out." When the needle hits your skin, you feel a hot scratch, making you hiss in a little. Geto tuts a little, then reminds you to take a breath. "It gets easier."

While he works, he makes small talk, like what you're doing with your degree and how long you have until you graduate. You ask him about his political leanings, and why you never knew he was a socialist before now.

"It's not my job to force my political leanings onto you all. I'm just here to expose you to all of the ideas out there."

And you agreed.

The tattoo didn't take long, and once you're finished, he lets you stand and take a look at it in the mirror.

"You like it?"

You examine the artistry and turn back to him, smiling widely.

"I love it." Geto begins his speech on aftercare as he places the bandage on your tattoo, and even hands you a piece of paper detailing the exact speech he just gave. You walk up to the counter after he's done, and swift fingers ring you up for the total, which you happily pay.

"When you can, you should come to our meetings," Geto offers, sliding you a flyer and winking. "I'd love to see you there." You take the flyer and look it over, trying not to let your eagerness show.

"This looks like fun," you answer. "I'll see you when I can."

And this time - you think as you exit the shop - I'll be in the front row.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

The Moment I Knew My Future Was Sweet

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

summary: spencer Reid plans a surprise birthday for his best friend/love of his life, Y/N. the one hang up though is that Ian, y/n’s boyfriend does not show up. 

warnings: crying, kissing, love, another taylor swift inspired fic because she’s a lyrical genius and i’m obsessed...

word count: 4315 

author’s note: i was listening to the moment i knew and was thinking that it would make a good fic! 

masterlist: (click <-) 

The Moment I Knew My Future Was Sweet

Spencer was completely lost looking for purple and white birthday party decorations. He’d searched at least three different stores for Y/N’s favorite shade of purple. Penelope had been helping him plan her surprise birthday party and it was Spencer’s job to get the decorations. 

“Hey! Reid, look what I found,” Penelope shouted as she ran up the aisle to meet Spencer. 

She was carrying what looked like colorful cardboard picture frames that had “Birthday Girl” and all sorts of Happy Birthday messages and funny sayings written on the edge. 

“Don’t you think Y/N will just love these?” Garcia asked as she tossed them in the cart. 

“Oh, I’m not really sure what those are but, I’m sure she’ll love it!” Spencer said. 

“It’s for taking pictures,” Garcia explained. “You hold them up to your face and take cute photos”

Spencer nodded in understanding. Y/N loved to take pictures and even though Spencer would rather not be photographed, their smiling faces littered her Instagram page. 

“Thanks for helping with this, Garcia. I really just want to make this special for her. Y/N is just so amazing,” Spencer stopped himself because out of the corner of his eye he noticed Penelope’s raised eyebrows. His cheeks turned slightly pink at her reaction. 

“Come on, Spencer! You should just tell her that you love her,” Garcia said waving her hands in the air. 

“She has a boyfriend, Garcia,” Spencer snapped.

“I know, but Spencer, who's the guy that’s planning her surprise party? Who’s the man that’s in every single selfie that she posts Instagram? Who’s the team member that she always rooms with?”

“Garcia, she’s with Ian. I’m not going to ruin our friendship by telling that I love her. She’s with Ian and I’m not a home wrecker”

“You just both deserve to be happy, Spencer. She loves you. I just know she does,” Garcia and Spencer walked over to the cashier to pay for the decoration. 

“If she’s happy, then I can live with it. Even if it feels like it’s breaking me” Spencer said at the constant beeping from the register rung in his ears. 

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“JJ, is that the food?” Garica called as she walked out of the kitchen into the small living room. 

“Yes, Will’s coming in with the rest of the food from the car. Any word from Spence yet on where he and the birthday girl are?” JJ said as she placed down a tray of food onto the kitchen counter top. 

“Spencer mentioned that he’s going to drive her over here. He should be getting there soon. She’s got no idea!” Garcia said excitedly. 

“That’s sweet. What did Ian think of that?” JJ asked with a questioning tone. 

Garcia threw her a look that caused JJ to raise her eyebrows.

“Spencer and Y/N are in love with each other. She won’t do anything because she feels like she’s with the kind of person that she deserves. Y/N is stuck in a loveless relationship because Spencer doesn’t think that she loves him. They love each other, Jayge,” Garcia said. 

“And you aren’t the profiler,” JJ teased. 

“I spend my days and nights with you all, it’s time that I picked up on all that profiler nonsense.” Garcia said, swatting JJ on the arm playfully. 

“That or my obsession with period dramas. Jayge, the pinning is so strong with those too.” 

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Spencer knocked on the door to Y/N apartment at 11:32 AM. The time was important because he calculated that it would take her 45 seconds to walk from her couch, look through the peephole, unlock the door and open the door. In those 45 seconds, it would turn 11:33 AM, which was the time that Y/N was born. 

Sure enough, the door opened and Spencer was greeted by a smiling Y/N. 

“Happy Birthday, Y/N. Happy Birthday!” Spencer yelled from across the doorway. 

“Oh my god! Spencer, how, I can’t,” Y/N said looking quite startled. 

Launching herself from the inside of her apartment, Y/N threw her arms around Spencer’s neck. He seemed to forget himself and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her in his arms. Even though he was the one holding her, he never felt as safe as he did then in that moment. 

“Thank you, Spencer. And you even came at the time I was born! Ah, what do I do to deserve you, Spencer. You’re-” Y/N starts. 

“Hey, none of that. It’s your day. Your birthday, Y/N. Oh, I got you flowers. Um, but I think that we may have crushed them” Spencer said sheepishly.

Y/N looked at the purple and yellow flowers that Spencer held in her hand, along with a small package with purple wrapping and green ivy decorations. 

“Oh, come inside, Spence and I’ll put those in water,” Y/N said, leading him in by the hand.  

They walked into her kitchen and she reached to the third shelf of the cabinet and grabbed a vase. Spencer watched as she filled it with water and crushed up a baby aspirin to dissolve in the water. Y/N fluffed out the semi-crushed flowers with a small smile plastered to her face. She looked up at Spencer, who was a little embarrassed to be caught staring at her. 

“I love them, Spencer. They are so beautiful,” Y/N said walking over to tug slightly on his jacket sleeve. 

“I’m glad. Have you heard from your parents, or uh,” Spencer stops for a second, calculating if he should go down that road, “or Ian?” 

“My mom called me, but no, I haven’t heard from Ian. He’s never been big on birthdays or holidays anyway, you know. He’s relaxed like that, I guess” Y/N reasons, more with herself than with Spencer, who just stares at her trying to figure out why in the world her boyfriend would not be here spending her birthday with her.

“Well, we have the whole day to ourselves, Y/N! We can go get brunch or take a walk in the park, anything you want to do, we’ll do it!” Spencer said, smiling at her.

“There’s any other way that I’d want to spend my birthday, than with you, Spencer.” 

There it was again. A palatable tension in the air between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, necessarily, just so apparent and thick that it could not possibly be ignored.

“I have something else for you,” Spencer started as he grabbed the package from the counter and handed it Y/N. 

“Oh, Spence! You didn’t have to do that” Y/N said with an excited look on her face. 

She opened the carefully wrapped package and tossed the paper on the flood with an eager grin on her face. Inside the small white box was a gold ring with intricately woven vines attached to a delicate chain link necklace. Y/N ran her fingers over the ring and necklace, almost like she couldn’t believe that it was real. 

“Spence,” She started, but a small tear pooled in the corner of her eye and she tried to wipe it away with the hem of her cardigan. 

“You really didn’t have to do this, I can’t even think of how you found this. It’s exactly like her’s! Oh, Spencer” Y/N said reaching forward to clasp her hands with his. 

“Will you put it on for me,” She asked him, pulling her hair from her neck and moving closer to Spencer. 

Spencer grabbed the necklace, a replica of her grandmother’s engagement ring, and tenderly latched the clasp. She felt her heart flutter slightly with the sensation of Spencer’s warm breath against her neck. His fingers burned against her skin as he moved her hair back from her shoulder to it’s familiar spot. 

Spencer was very aware of the fact that if she’d lean back, her head would rest perfectly in the cook between his chin and neck. He’d feel her soft hair under his skin and be able to hold her close and safe. She moved much sooner than he’d like and faced him once again. 

Y/N closed her eyes, just taking in the quiet moment between them. Spencer wished that he could reach out and put his hand to Y/N’s cheek. Maybe she’d melt into his touch. They could play pretend that, for even a moment that they aren’t just best friends, but maybe this is her engagement ring. It’s enough for him, for now at least. They just sit in silence, but he aches to rub thumb along her knuckles. Still, neither of them need to speak, the unsaid words are poetry in itself. 

“Thank you, Spencer. This is so beautiful, I can’t even imagine the trouble it might have caused you.” You're worth it, Y/N, he wants to scream. You’re so worth it.  

But instead, he just settles on giving her a small smile. Spencer will forever have to contend with his silence. He’ll resign himself to standing by her side and watching as she loves another man. 

“Let’s go, Y/N starving”

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“I can’t believe I fought my wallet, Y/N! I’m so sorry that we have to go all the way back to my place,” Spencer feigned an apology and shot Y/N a side glance as he sped down the road towards his apartment. 

“It’s okay, Spencer. You know that I wouldn’t mind paying for brunch, it’s not a big deal that-”

“No way, am I letting you buy brunch on your birthday, Y/N” Spencer said putting on the blinker as he pulled into his parking spot. 

“Is that JJ’s car, Spence?” Y/N said as Spencer walked around to her side of the car to open the door for her. 

“Yeah, her and the boys park here sometimes to go to the park down the street. Henry loves to feed the ducks,” Spencer said, not making eye contact with her. 

“Look at me Spencer,” She said, reaching out to grab his sleeve. He kind of wished that her cold hand would slip into his and he’d be able to walk into her party in front of everyone she loves, holding his hand. 

“Are you lying to me?” Y/N remarked playfully. 

It took everything in Spencer’s being to look her straight in the eyes and tell her that he’s not lying. Especially when she’s looking in his eyes with that look on her face that just makes him want to scream that he loves her. 

“Ha! Y/N, I’m completely offended that you’d suggest that I’m lying to you,” Spencer said as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. 

“Hmm, I’m going to hold you to that, Mister” 

“It’s Doctor for you, Y/N. Why don’t you just open the door?” Spencer said, handing her the keys to his apartment. 

She gave him a suspicious look before she turned the key into the lock and stepped into Spencer’s apartment. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Penelope jumped out from her hiding spot behind Spencer’s sofa. 

The rest of the guests all chorused many Happy Birthdays as Y/N looked around in shock. Derek and Emily stood up to give her a hug, as JJ and Will stood holding balloons with Henry and Michael. 

“Oh my god! You guys! I can’t believe you all,” Y/N said jumping up to hug a beaming Penelope. 

“It was all Spencer’s idea, Y/N” JJ mentioned giving her friend a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. 

“Spence,” Y/N started as she looked up at her friend. 

“You really didn’t have to do that! Thank you,” She finished almost shly. 

“I wanted you to have the best birthday, Y/N. We’ve all had a rough year, you deserve it,” Spencer said to her. It was almost like they were the only two people in the room, he thinks. It’s like that a lot, whenever he’s in a room with Y/N. They can be in a pack stadium with screaming people, but the only person he’d be able to hear is her. The only person he’d want to pay attention is her. 

“I know you don’t like hugs, Spence, but it’s my birthday and I don’t care!” She said launching herself into Spencer’s already open arms. 

The pair hugged and Spencer forgot himself for a moment. He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around the room as she laughed. 

“Spencer!” She giggled. He put her down and looked at her smiling face. 

“Thank you,” She said quietly, just to him. 

“Of course, Y/N” He told her. Anything to make you laugh like that. Anything to allow me to hold you like that. Anything to make you happy. 

He might have stared too long, because Derek camed and clapped him on the shoulder. It was a reminder that they were not the only people in the room. 

“I’m going to go say hi to everyone,” she said before she left. 

Spencer watched her leave and gave a longing stare in her wake. He felt Derek’s eyes on his face and couldn’t even bear to look him in the eyes. Besides Y/N, Derek knew Spencer more than most people. He’d be able to read his face, his feelings, and his love for Y/N in a moment. And that terrified Spencer. 

“Penelope told me, you know.” Derek said, handing Spencer a mimosa. 

“Hmm, did she know?” Spencer replied tight-lipped. He glanced over to where Y/N had walked over to, but he only saw Emily and Penelope talking with flutes in their hands. 

“Also, Reid. That necklace she’s got on?” Derek questioned with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Yeah. I got it for her. For her birthday. It’s a replica of her grandmother’s engagement ring” Spencer confessed. 

Derek looked at Spencer in disbelief. He was in denial. They both were. 

“You got a girl who’s got a boyfriend an engagement ring for her birthday?” Derek asked factiously. 

“It’s a birthday present for my friend, Morgan.” Spencer said, taking a big gulp of his mimosa. The acid from the orange juice was unusually sour down his throat. 

“Friends don’t get friends engagement rings, Reid.” Derek said before he left Spencer to ponder over this predicament. 

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“Why don’t you let me or Derek call him, sweetie. I’m sure he just got stuck somewhere. Let me call him for you, please Y/N?” Penelope said calmly as she rubbed both of Y/N’s arms lovingly. 

“Penny, he’s not going to come! He missed this on purpose. I’m so done with him-” Y/N said between sobs. Between the champagne and jello shots, she was not drunk but happily buzzed, that quickly turned into an emotional buzz. 

“What do you want me to do, honey. Tell me and I’ll make it happen, okay. I’m so sorry, Y/N” Penelope told her, handing her a paper towel to wipe her tears. 

“I just want to go home,” She cried. 

“Will you get Spencer to take me home, he-” She got out before her shoulders were overtaken by sobs. 

“He drove me here. And he won’t mind leaving, he hates parties. We were planning a sleepover anyway,” Y/N turning to hug Penelope. 

“Hey, you don’t need that jerk anyway, Y/N,” Penelope said “I’m going to tell Spencer now, okay honey, I’ll be right back” 

Y/N stared at the drink in her hand thinking about what should have happened. The pain of the moment was too pungent, so she settled on taking a swig of the rest of her drink. Those problems can wait till tomorrow, she thought. 

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“Spencer! Reid, I need you over here,” Penelope called over to Spencer, who was entertaining the boys with a magic trick, much to their enjoyment. 

“It’s Y/N. She’s heartbroken that Ian never showed up” Penelope said, filling Spencer in. 

“That asshole!” Spencer whisper-yelled as Garcia led him to the kitchen. 

“She just wants you to take her home,” Garcia said as they made their way to where Y/N was perched on the countertop. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, he doesn’t deserve you. You know that right?” Spencer said looking at her teary face and glazed eyes. She didn’t look like herself. She looked faraway and sad; he’d do anything to make her feel better. 

“I just want to go home, Spencer, please. Just take me home,” Y/N said with fresh tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Come on, Y/N” He said holding her hand as they walked out the door, down the stairs and into his car. 

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Neither of them talked on the way home. Y/N looked out the window, just staring at the passerby in an almost wishlike state. 

Spencer split his attention evenly to the road ahead and Y/N sitting next to him. Her head rested against the window and her feet were tucked under her legs in a crouched position. It was like she was trying to make herself look as small as she was feeling.

“We’re here, Y/N,” Spencer said softly. 

“We’re home, Spence?” She asked, not even wanting to open her eyes yet. 

“We’re home, Y/N.” He answered, putting a comfortable hand on her shoulder. 

They walked upstairs to her apartment on the third floor just as quiet as their car ride was. She opened the door of her apartment and walked right into her bedroom. 

“I’m just going to get changed, Spence” She said before shutting the door and shutting him out of her thoughts for a moment. 

Not really sure what to do, Spencer sat on the couch. Was it really just a couple of hours ago that they sat here together? All of the sudden, Spencer heard what sounded like music coming from her bedroom. Spencer recognized that he wasn’t the best at modern popular culture, but Y/N choosing to play music at a time like this caught his profiler instincts. 

And what’s a profiler without a genius tech expert, he thought as he dialed Garcia. Spencer placed his ear to the door and started to hear Y/N sob-ridden voice mix with an artist who he did not recognize. 

“Garcia,” Spencer whispered. 

“Oh Spencer! How is she doing,” Garcia asked. Spencer imagined that the whole party stood huddled in his cramped kitchen listening to every word. 

“Ah, she’s singing?” Spencer said with a questioning tone. 

“Oh, boy. Hold the phone so I can hear please, this is very important Reid,” Garcia ordered. 

Spencer placed his flip phone so it’s speaker would pick up the sad notes echoing from the bedroom. 

“Did you get that?” Spencer asked, returning the phone to his ear. 

“She’s listening to her ‘cry her eyes out playlist’. This song is about a girl who’s boyfriend skipped out on her birthday party, so it’s hitting home right now, Spencer” Garcia explained. 

“That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Spencer asked. 

“That’s the beauty of Taylor Swift, my dear. She’s got a song for every emotion. So maybe you can convince her to listen to her “this makes me believe in love” playlist. And maybe you can tell her how you feel, you know that you love her? That has Taylor Swift written all over it G-man,” Garcia finishes. 

“We’ll see about it, Penelope,” Spencer said, trying to figure out a plan to make Y/N feel better. He hung up on his friend and put his ear back at the door. 

Spencer felt a little bit uncomfortable pressing his ear up to the door. It was like he was invading a very private moment. As he strained to hear the song playing in the bedroom, Spencer’s legs  were rubbed against by a fluffy orange Maine Coon. 

“Hey Mabel,” He said crouching down to pet the cat. “Our girl is really sad right now. You always make her feel better though, right May?” He said. Spencer thought that he really must be losing it if he’s having a conversation with her cat. 

Suddenly, the music stopped and Spencer quieted himself to be able to hear what Y/N was doing behind the door. He heard her voice, maybe she was talking to her sister or Penelope. Spencer’s heart twinged with sadness that he wasn’t the one she went to when her heart was broken. 

“Hey, Ian. We need to talk,” Her voice was muffled between the door. Spencer’s breath was coming heavier with the realization that she was talking with Ian. Ian her boyfriend. 

He was not able to hear the other side of the conversation, not that he really cared what Ian said to defend himself. Spencer tried to make due by listening to Y/N’s quiet voice. 

“Ian, you really hurt me-” She said, her voice getting high. Spencer knew that was a sign of Y/N getting ready to cry. 

“No, you are going to listen to me. Then I am going to hang up and I’m going to toss all of your shit that you leave in my apartment in the trash!” she yelled on the phone. 

“You really hurt me by not coming to my party, Ian. But what I realized, sitting here, that I don’t need you anymore. I feel like I’ve given this relationship everything I had. And you don’t even give me the time of day! Spencer was here for me today. He planned this! He was the one who want to make my day special and I love-”

Spencer, who was listening intently to the conversation behind the door, ran as far away from the door as he could. He did not just hear what he did, he tried to tell himself. She does not mean it. Ian will probably call her in the morning and she’ll forgive him. There’s no way that she means that she means that. The silence coming from her bedroom is only broken by her quiet sobs. Spencer was counting the seconds before he could barge into the bedroom and tell her that everything is going to be okay. If he was more like Derek, he’d open up that door and just hold her and tell her how much he loves her. But Spencer Reid is not like Derek Morgan, much to his disappointment. 

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Y/N sat on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, mopping up her leaky eyes with an old t-shirt. The initial heartbreak from Ian not coming to her party was gone. It was a strange feeling, she almost felt light. Like breathing was a little easier or the world was a little clearer. The thing was, that if she thought about it, she really did not even miss him from her party. Spencer was the one who planned this, she thought. He was the one who gave her a thoughtful gift. He was the one she went to when she needed to go home. Spencer was the one.

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Spencer was broken from his internal thoughts when the door cracked open. Y/N eyes were puffy and red from crying. She made a motion to Spencer to come into her bedroom with her. Y/N led him over to the balcony window seat that overlooked the city street. It was still early in the evening, so the street was busy with passerby, bikers, and shoppers. 

Spencer sat down tentatively next to Y/N, who made a movement to grab his hand. She intertwined her fingers with his and Spencer could not help but think of how warm her hands were in his cold ones. Or how her light blue nail polish reflected light. 

“Spencer,” She said nervously. Y/N looked up at him with a shy look on her face. 

“Do you love me, Spencer,” She asked him, looking him dead in the eyes. 

“Of course I love you, Y/N. I love all of you guys. Penelope, Derek, JJ, Emily-” he said, regretting his answer almost immediately due to the look on her face. 

“No, Spencer. I mean do you love me?” she asked, daring to make eye contact with him. 

“I have loved you for years, Y/N.” Spencer answered. He lowered his gaze, fearful that maybe she would reject him, fearful that she’d think him loving her is a ridiculous notion, fearful that she’d realize that he’d never be the one for her. 

“Spencer, you mean so much to me. And I think that today-” She started, putting her hand to his cheek in an affectionate manner. 

“I think that today, I learned that you are always a constant in my life, you are always the person that I want to hold me when I cry. You are always the one who I want to make laugh. Spencer you are the one for me.” She professed. 

Spencer sat there looking dumbfounded. Part of him wanted to believe her, believe that she could possibly love him like he loves her. 

“I love you, Spencer. More than you can ever imagine.” She told him, dancing her fingers down his incredibly sharp jaw and down his neck. 

Spencer, who seemed to come back to Earth, fixed Y/N’s necklace. He looked back at her, like it was the first time that he was actually seeing her. 

Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Spencer kissed her forehead saying “when I look at you, Y/N, I see something that I never really thought I’d ever get. I see a future, a happy one. I love you so much, Y/N and-”

Spencer’s confession was cut off suddenly by a pair of soft lips pressing up to his. His shock wore off quickly as Y/N kissed the corners of his mouth, up his cheekbones, and all the way to his eyelids. Her overzealous affection caused Spencer to belt out a high pitched laugh. Kissing her tasted like the future. And the future had never tasted so sweet. 

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 67]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Got many things to do today, though I do have a meeting in a bit over an hours, so there will be a break.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

 “How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

  Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

 “Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

 “Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

 “Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

 “A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

 “No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

 Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

 Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

 Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

 “Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

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Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

  Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

 Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

 “Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

 “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

 “Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

 Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

 Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

 This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

 The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

 Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

 “Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

 Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

 “Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

 He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

 “It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

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“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

 “It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

 It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

 Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

 He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

 Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

 “I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

 He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

 “Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

 They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

 “That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

 Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

 He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

 There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

 The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

 After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

 He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

 He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

 He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

 The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

 He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

 Slowly Thomas raised one hand and waved to the boy. He slunk back into the shadows at the acknowledgment. If Thomas peered hard enough, he could see a shadow stretch up towards the third-floor balcony in the darkness and disappear over the railing.

Interesting boy.

Thomas found himself smiling despite the oddity. They still had not found out much about Virgil. He would speak to Jeffers about many things apparently, but often could not be redirected to invasive topics and he was still a bit skittish around Helen. He hadn’t willingly existed in a room with Thomas. Thomas hoped that changed at some point. There was something about him that made Thomas like him.

  Chapter 37

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

 He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

 He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

[waka-chan-out]

Ballroom Dancing

(Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader)

I wrote a Tsukishima dance fic and I’m here to make it everyone’s problem

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 4.4k

content warning: SMUT, semi-public sex, degredation, taunting because he’s a little shit, brat!reader, oral (m. recieving), hair pulling, fingering, alcohol consumption (nothing crazy), slight orgasm denial, light choking

also featuring: kuroo and kenma

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” you said, turning into your friend as you scanned the huge ballroom.

“What do you mean? You look great.”

“I know I look great, Tetsu, but I still feel ridiculous.”

“Why? Once you start dancing you’ll feel better.”

“Whatever you say. Please dance with me first or I will combust.”

“As you wish,” Kuroo said with a laugh. You moved towards him as he took your hand, starting to move you around the room. The other couples on the dance floor were pressed against each other, hands slipping down from their partner’s waists and faces leaning in close to whisper who knows what in each others ears. Kuroo held you respectfully, knowing that he dragged you here and you could run off at any moment if you felt like it. The music swelled, filling the ballroom with a beautiful hum. The room was huge and silver. A giant chandelier dangled from the ceiling and cast lovely shattered flecks of light all around the room.

You had practiced this dance so many times that you could go into autopilot and observe your surroundings without missing a beat. Kuroo spun you quickly as your eyes passed over the crowd. You recognized a few faces as Kuroo’s friends from college. Some of them he had known since high school. All of the friends of his you had met so far were fun. If they could put up with Kuroo they could put up with anything.

You saw Kenma in the crowd and cast him a smile. He held up a hand to greet you. You knew he’d find you later and talk your ear off, but there was no way you could get him in the middle of the room for a dance. He looked handsome in his tuxedo. He was never as strong as Kuroo, but he still filled it out nicely with his newfound confidence.

“Hey, Kei is here!” Kuroo said happily. You looked back at him with confusion. You knew the name, but he was one of Kuroo’s high school friends that you hadn’t met yet.

“Where?” you asked.

“Right next to Kenma. The blond.” You spun around again and looked over to where Kenma was. A giant loomed over him, his back to you. He had shaggy blond hair and looked relatively thin, but you could see muscle through his tight-fitting dress pants.

“Jesus, how tall is he?” you asked. “He looks huge compared to poor Kenma.” Kuroo laughed.

“He’s always been big. Last time we saw each other he said he was over 6’4 but who knows at this point.”  Your eyes widened.

Kuroo let out his hyena laugh in response and the blond - Kei, though you didn’t know his last name - turned at the clearly familiar sound. He wore a wide pair of glasses that framed serious eyes. His face was cold as he turned, but as soon as he saw Kuroo it softened into a smile. He held up a hand, long fingers twitching slightly in greeting. Kuroo’s hand left your waist, waving eagerly back at his friend.

“After this song let’s go say hi,” he said. You nodded, eyes still fixed on the man. His face settled into a slight smirk as he observed you, then turned back to Kenma, running a hand through his blond hair.

The song ended and you and Kuroo made your way to the edge of the ballroom, but the blond was nowhere to be found. Kenma greeted you with a hug and a shower of compliments. He had really come out of his shell since college.

“Where’d Kei get off to?” Kuroo asked.

“No idea,” Kenma said, glancing around. “He’s hard to miss, though. I’m sure you’ll find him easily enough.” He laughed. “I think he’s grown even more since we last saw him.”

“Are you serious? That’s hardly fair.”

“Agreed. No man deserves to be 6’5.” Six fucking five. It wasn’t often you ran into someone that could dwarf Kuroo. Jesus. You needed a drink.

“I’m heading to the bar, Tetsu,” you said. Kuroo nodded and waved you on, chatting happily with Kenma as you walked away.

Even the bar sparkled with silver. The man behind the counter wore red velvet, looking more like an employee at the Tower of Terror than a bartender.

“What can I get for you, love?” he asked.

“What can you make?”

“Absolutely anything you’d like.”

You laughed. “Can you make a mojito? Pineapple, if it’s possible.”

“Absolutely.” He turned and began to skillfully rifle through the selection of rum behind him.

“What are you, on vacation?” a voice asked behind you. You could almost hear the smirk in his words. You turned, immediately having to look higher up than you thought you would. Kuroo’s blond friend stood behind you with a sly smile on his face.

“Something wrong with my order?”

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” he said, leaning on his elbows against the bar beside you, shrinking to your height. “Who orders pineapple at an event like this?”

“People who don’t give a shit about the snooty atmosphere.”

He cocked an eyebrow and looked away, watching the bartender make your drink. “Am I snooty, then?”

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious.”

“I assure you, snooty I am not.”

The bartender set down your drink in front of you, plopping a cherry on top as he did so. “There you go,” he said cheerfully. “Whose tab will this be on?” He looked between you and the blond.

“I’m not paying for their little cocktail, thanks.” Kei shrugged and looked at you, that annoying smile still glinting in his eyes.

“I guess that’ll be mine, then. Put it under y/n. I’m definitely not done drinking tonight.” Your eyes met the his. He was looking at you with an unreadable expression, eyes glinting with something that looked like amusement. The bartender laughed and turned to the other man.

“Anything I can get you?” Kei let his eyes leave yours.

“Dry martini, please.” You laughed loudly and took a sip of your drink. The bartender began his order and the tall man looked at you.

“Something funny about my order, too?”

“A dry martini? Who are you, James Bond?”

“Tsukishima. Kei Tsukishima.” He smiled widely this time, clearly amused at your reaction.

“Y/n,” you replied, happy that he went along with the joke. The bartender set the martini down in front of Tsukishima. He picked it up and licked his lips, taking a sip without letting his eyes leave yours.

“Put this on their tab, as well,” he said.

“Excuse me?” you said, incredulous at his attitude.

“I’ll get the next.” He took another sip as the bartender walked off to deal with his other customers. “So, you Kuroo’s new partner?” The word fell from his mouth dripping with sarcasm. You choked out a laugh.

“Absolutely not. We’ve been friends since college.”

“College, huh? He ever mention me?”

“Yeah, actually. I’ve heard all about what a brat you are. He pegged you perfectly.”

Tsukishima smiled. “You think I’m being bratty?”

“You are absolutely being bratty. Don’t forget I’m paying for your drink.” His eyes kept on sparkling. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but the way he looked at you made it feel like he was seeing straight into your thoughts.

“So.” He twirled the glass in his hand. God, his hands were huge. “If Kuroo’s not your partner . . .”

“If I wasn’t here with Kuroo I’d be dancing alone.” He nodded, looking satisfied with your answer. He threw back the rest of his martini and gestured to your cup.

“Finish your drink,” he said, straightening up and towering over you again.

“Why?”

“We’re going to dance, dumbass.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. He mirrored your expression and nodded at your glass. “Finish it or I’ll finish it for you.”

You glared up at him, pulling the cherry out by the stem and tipping the drink back, swigging the last bit of bitterness. You popped the cherry in your mouth and flicked the stem into Tsuki’s empty glass. He smirked and made his way through the crowd. You followed, head a bit hazy from chugging your drink so quickly.

He made it to the edge of the dance floor right as the next song began playing. He turned and held out a hand to you. His fingers were long and well-manicured. You raised your eyebrows with as much attitude as you could muster, taking his hand. He smiled. His hand was soft and a little cold. He pulled you onto the dance floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand settled on your hip, long fingers splaying out and digging into your side. It was almost possessive. This close he smelled like basil soap and something musky that made your head spin as he gracefully sidestepped and led you around the room.

For such a tall man, he was a remarkably good dancer. His movements were precise and sure, leading you better than even Kuroo did. When he moved his arms you could see his jacket strain slightly. He wasn’t a thick man by any means, but what he had was all muscle. His eyes didn’t leave yours as you danced, intense gaze making you antsy but determined not to look away first.

“I didn’t mention this before but your dress is lovely.” His gaze trained down your body as he spoke.

“What, are you being nice now?” you asked.

“I can be mean if you’d like.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” His eyes darkened.

“Try me.”

“You sure?”

You shrugged. His hand slid along to the small of your back and he dipped you. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you back up, face suddenly serious. He looked around the room.

“Do you know how much attention you’re drawing to yourself with that neckline?”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?” He leaned down, very close to your ear. You got goosebumps as he spoke.

“I’m saying your dress makes you look a little slutty.” You drew your head away from him. He perked back up and smiled at your shock. “I thought you wanted me to be mean.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to diss my dress.”

He shrugged and dug his fingers into your side, pulling your hips flush against him. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

Your face felt suddenly hot. He grinned.

“You’re a pretty little thing when you’re flustered,” he said.

“Keep talking and those dress pants aren’t going to be able to hide how pretty you think I am.” His eyebrows shot up, this time in genuine surprise. You smiled. He clearly wasn’t used to encountering people willing to taunt him back. He looked away for a moment and regained his composure.

“Why would I try to hide that?”

“You seem the private type. I figured a broom closet or bathroom stall would better suit your taste.” His smile darkened.

“Done.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Too late. He was already pulling you off of the still swirling dance floor.

He led you past the bar and down a hall, clearly familiar with the terrain. The hallway was littered with doors, but he led you to one of the very last ones. He threw open the door and pulled you inside. The room was mid-sized but cramped. There were chairs lining the table. The walls looked strangely soft, like it was soundproofed for privacy’s sake. There was a window on one side. Moonlight streamed through the half-shut blinds, giving the room a cold glow.

Tsukishima wasted no time in locking the door and taking you by the hips, pushing you against the wall.

“You’re a testy one, aren’t you?” he growled, gripping the fabric of your dress tightly.

“I try to be,” you replied, hand finding its way into his hair and pulling him down to your lips. He kissed you hungrily. His lips were soft and angry, attitude apparent even in how his tongue slipped into your mouth. He was teasing you without words, daring you to push back. You obliged, biting down lightly on his bottom lip. He let out a small sound and pushed harder against you. He separated from you and began to trail aggressive kisses down your neck.

“If you’re going to be smart with your mouth I’ll give you something else to do with it,” he breathed against you. You shivered.

“You’re all talk so far,” you sighed. “If you’re going to do it, do it.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your shoulder.

“Naughty thing,” he murmured. His hands trailed up your body, finding your face. He held your cheeks and smiled. He ran a finger across your bottom lip. “Why don’t you show me what else those pretty lips can do?” You said nothing but grabbed his belt all the same, staring him in the eyes with a smug expression on your face. Once his dress pants were undone you sunk to your knees in front of him. He inhaled sharply at your compliance.

He was hard already at the way you kissed him. You wasted no time pulling down his boxers and taking him all the way into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he hit the back of your throat. He covered his mouth with his hand, seemingly more out of restraint than to actually hold back any noise. You continued moving your head, tongue sliding over the head of his cock. It didn’t take long to figure out that drove him crazy. His groans raised in pitch the more you took advantage of how sensitive he was. You wrapped a hand around him and swirled your tongue around his head. He let out what was almost a whimper and grabbed your hair, gripping it so tightly it made your eyes water. You sped up, eliciting similar sounds from him.

“Mother . . . fucker,” he groaned in a whisper, hand moving from deep in your hair to your forehead, his touch nearly a caress. You slowed your pace at his enthusiasm and his breathing hitched.

“Fuck. Don’t do that.” You hummed in amusement, the vibrations causing him to tip his head back. You sped up again. Just as he began whimpering you slowed again. His second hand found your hair this time, both tugging tightly.

“One more time and I -- fuck.” He tipped his forehead forward against the wall as you quickened your pace again. You felt him twitch in your mouth and knew he was close.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck.” He spat out his words, rocking his hips a bit to the pace you set. “Oh, fuck.” His swearing raised in pitch. He was so close. “I --” You pulled off of him completely and looked up at him. His eyes were shut tight. His hips bucked and he let out a horrible little whimper. His breathing was irregular as he repeated the word “fuck” over and over again, to himself and to you. The haze of his denied orgasm began to fade and he looked down at you with deadly serious eyes.

“I’m not playing that fucking game.” He tugged on your hair, pulling you into a standing position. It hurt in the best way, especially satisfying now that he was so riled up. He whirled you around and pinned you against the table. He lifted your hips so that you were seated and began pushing your dress up, hands lost in the mess of skirts.

“You don’t get to pull some shit like that and think you’re getting away with it.” His hands slid up your thighs and pushed them apart. You shivered. His long fingers found the lace of your undergarments.

“Slutty under here too. I should have expected that.” He pressed his fingers against you through the cloth, making you inhale sharply in anticipation. “Oh well,” he chuckled. “These just make it easier for me.” He pushed the fabric aside and slipped a single long finger inside of you. You gasped and your brows furrowed. He mirrored your expression like he was taunting you.

“So wet just from sucking my cock.” He whispered the words like he almost didn’t want you to hear the taunt. He pushed a second finger into you. You breathed out hard, suppressing a noise. He chuckled.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to act all shy now,” he said. His fingers curled and you let a moan escape. “There we are.” His smirk returned to his face. He repeated the motion. You felt your core tightening, forcing your back to arch up against him.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re pretty when you’re all wound up. Too bad you’re such a whore. You let guys do this to you often? Whisk you into a dark room and have their way with you?” You shook your head. He laughed lightly, curling his fingers again. You moaned, gripping his shoulders tightly. “I like your honesty. I guess you’re only a slut for me.”

His pace inside you was steady and his gaze was intense. You knew you were close but if you told him that he’d probably pull away just you did to him. Your eyes shut tightly, hand finding his hair and tugging. You swore and he pulled his hand away. Though you were expecting the motion, it didn’t stop your thighs from closing tightly, begging for the contact that was no longer there. He slipped his fingers into his mouth so casually it made you gasp. He popped them out after a moment and ran his messy hand through his hair.

“Sorry to torture you back,” he said, pushing your legs apart again and pulling your hips closer to the edge of the table. “But when you come I want it to be on my cock.” He slipped his dress pants down again and tugged the lace off of your legs. He ground his hips forward, rubbing against you. Your breathing hitched and he laughed.

“So needy for me. What would you do if I just walked out?” You glared up at him and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close.

“Not letting me go, huh? Don’t have to tell me twice.” He pushed inside of you slowly, brows furrowing and eyes fluttering closed as he did so. You both swore as he buried himself inside of you. He was big, but it didn’t hurt. You wiggled your hips a little, wishing he would move. He chuckled at your efforts.

“You want me to hurry up? You’re gonna have to ask nicely.” You glared up at him.

“Please,” you muttered.

His brows shot up.

“Please what?”

“Please move already, you stubborn fuck.”

He laughed in surprise.

“So dirty. You asked nicely though, so . . .” He drew his hips back and drove back into you. You let out a sigh. He grabbed the back of your neck with his huge hand and pulled you forward into a kiss as he continued moving. His swearing and your moans got lost in the kiss as he set a faster pace. He pulled away from your lips, leaving his forehead leaning against yours.

“Fuck.” He choked on a groan as he spoke. “You make such pretty sounds. Did your drink make you this honest or is it my cock?” You buried a fist in his hair and pulled. He let out an unexpectedly loud sound at the motion. He stared down at you, eyes on fire.

“Shut the fuck up,” you breathed. He grinned and pulled you in for another kiss, this one much more desperate. His hand trailed up your neck, squeezing lightly as he did. You tipped into his palm but it kept traveling upwards. It stopped along your jaw, thumb slipping up to separate your kiss. He slipped it into your mouth. He swore as you eagerly sucked in the finger, staring him in the eye. He smiled and pulled it back, returning his lips to yours. His hand slipped down between your legs, using the thumb that had been in your mouth to trace a circle on your clit. You gasped and moved away from the kiss. He caught your head with his other hand, keeping you close to him as he continued the snap of his hips and the motion of his finger.

“Fuck, Tsukishima.” He sped up the pace of his hand.

“Say that again.” He sounded desperate, leaning his head into your shoulder.

“Tsukki . . .” you trailed off before you could say anything else, lost in the feeling of him. He let out what sounded like a growl at the sound of his name.

“Fuck,” he said. It was almost pathetic how messy he sounded. You buried your hand in his hair again, tugging slightly.

“Tsukki, please.”

He let out a shaky sound. He picked his head up and laid a quick kiss on you.

“Come with me. Please,” he said. You nodded and your head tipped back. He began swearing under his breath, words bleeding together into a mess of desperation.

“Fuck, Tsukki,” you moaned, body tensing as you came. At the feeling and sight of you finishing he quickly followed, pulling out of you but leaving his thumb moving to carry you through your orgasm. Your faces pressed against each other, both breathing hard. You felt him twitching against you as he came. He might have gotten on your dress, but that was the last thing on your mind.

His sweaty face buried into the crook of your neck and his arms slipped around your waist, holding you close to him. Your shaky hands found their way into his hair, running your fingers gently through the mess. It felt good to just hold him as you both caught your breath, his strong chest rising and falling against you. He withdrew slightly and placed a gentle, sloppy kiss on your lips before letting out a laugh. You did the same, smiling up at his face. You hadn’t even noticed, but he was still wearing his glasses. They were fogged up from leaning against you.

“You’re pretty,” you said, pushing the frames up into his hair and pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips. When you pulled away his face was red.

“Don’t just say shit like that,” he muttered.

“Aw, who’s flustered now?” You laughed as his face twisted into a frown. He put his glasses back on properly and peeled himself away from you.

“We really should get back,” he said, tugging his pants back up and redoing his belt. You nodded but were unsure what to do about the problem he had left all over your thighs. He saw you hesitating and laughed when he realized what you were thinking.

“Here,” he said, picking up your underwear and approaching. You looked at him in confusion before he used them to clean you off and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket. He noticed you staring in horror and laughed.

“I have to give them back at some point now,” he smirked. “Guess you’ll have to see me again.” You rolled your eyes in amusement as you rearranged your dress and tried your best to fix your hair. He was having trouble with his since the rim around his face was coated with sweat. You tried your best to help him. He stared at you with a gentle smile as you worked. You pretended not to notice.

“I think it’s best if we go out one at a time,” he said. You nodded and he approached the door, turning to face you before he left. “Do I look like I just fucked someone in a dark room?” You grinned and shook your head.

“You look fine.”

“You look great, too,” he said with a small smile. He left the room and left you alone, waiting impatiently to go. When it had been long enough you slipped the door open and walked out, shakier on your feet than you’d like to be.

You immediately went to the bar, asking for a shot of tequila. Anything to soothe your nerves. You took it quickly and shook your head. You were fine. You just needed to make sure you got Tsukki’s number from Kuroo.

“Y/n! Jesus, there you are.” Speak of the devil. You turned to face Kuroo as he approached, Kenma and a disheveled looking Tsukishima in tow. He looked flushed. His hair was still messy and a little sweaty despite his best efforts. Your eyes widened with pride when you saw him looking so fucked. You smiled at Kuroo.

“Sorry, I went wandering.”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Got lost.”

“Of course you did. I wanted you to meet my friends.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. This is Tsukishima Kei. We knew each other in high school. We were volleyball rivals.” Kuroo looked proud as he explained. “I taught him everything he knows.”

“Oh, I’m sure not everything,” you said, turning to Tsukki. His eyebrows raised at your borderline suggestive comment. He reached out to shake your hand with the same hand that had been buried in you not long ago.

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” he said through a smile.

“They haven’t said their name,” Kenma said, frowning. Tsukki’s eyes widened before setting into a more sure expression.

“Kuroo mentioned them earlier.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Kenma still looked suspicious. Kuroo didn’t seem to notice, slapping Tsukkishima on the shoulder and starting to talk about the ‘good old days’. Whenever Kuroo turned to address Kenma, Kei’s eyes found yours, smiling very slightly so the other men didn’t notice. You didn’t contribute much to the conversation, quietly observing the huge man in his well-fitting tuxedo.

“Oh shit, y/n,” he said suddenly, cutting off the conversation. “I think you spilled something on your dress.” Your face flushed and eyes widened. Panicked and annoyed, you looked down at your dress.  Sure enough, about halfway down the skirt, there was a patch of what thankfully looked like nothing but a spilled drink at the moment.

“God. I’m clumsy. Not surprised that I ruined my nicest dress.” You laughed it off as the three men stared at you, Tsukki with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. I’m sure your dress is fine,” Kuroo said.

“Nope,” you said, glancing up at Tsukki. “Definitely ruined.”