#I honestly make these edits so I can stare at them on loop for hours...

[thebibliosphere]

Honestly, there's a lot of things I won't miss when covid shifts from being a pandemic to an endemic (spoiler alert: we're still not there yet). But one thing I really hope that stays is people live streaming nature walks. And I don't mean the fancy ambient ones; I mean just taking a stroll somewhere and taking your camera along.

I've lived the better half of the last five years house and bed-bound. I don't get to go out much very often. I have spent countless hours staring at ceilings or looking out windows at blank brick walls and glimpses of skyline. More often than not, I would watch nature scenes on youtube. Between deep green thickets with babbling brooks set to eight hours of looped birdsong on repeat and dizzying drone footage of waterfalls and snowcapped mountains set to binaural beats, I maintained a tenuous connection to a world no longer accessible to me. And sometimes, if I lay very still and closed my eyes, I could remember the scent of the forest undergrowth after first rain or the feel of sun-baked sand under my feet.

There was the odd, occasional nature walker just out taking their camera for a wander. But it was far more common for them to be mountain bikers or cave jumpers—things I am sure are vastly enjoyable, but to those of us with visual impairments and neurological disorders, even just watching them is akin to being flung upside down on a rollercoaster.

And then the whole world shut down, and everyone was forced into the same situation as I was. Trapped inside, unable to do the things they wanted. Isolated. Alone. And then the live feeds started popping up. Debbie on Facebook was going for a walk through the park, did anyone else want to see the birds? Craig on Twitter was going for a sedentary hike with the kids; want to come look at hills? No sound effects, no editing. Just raw footage of a world I can barely remember the smell of, beamed directly into my indefinite confinement via the magic of technology and the human need to make connections.

It was more of a lifeline for many of us than I think people realized. Whether we were experiencing this level of isolation for the first time or a part of our lonely routine. It brought humanity back into it. And I'm already starting to miss it as the people I watched start to drop away, their worlds returning to normal as mine stays put.

And lest anyone think this is me trying to romanticize a fucking plague, it's not. It's me lamenting my own lack of connection with a world I dearly love but am so far removed from that looped birdsong is often as close as I can get.

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 02

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7k [2/6]

notes: looks like it’s a writing/editing kinda day, folks! hope you enjoy this installment, and let me know what you think! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, jeon jungkook is a goddamn tease, smuuuut, oral (f receiving), jk’s got a big dick whoOPS, minimally edited bc i’m feeling lazy

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Morning brings with it bright sunshine and fresh horror as the events of the previous evening come rushing back. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to look Jeon Jungkook in the eye again—or at least, not without being reminded of the way he’d plagued every single one of your dreams with devilish eyes and even more devilish fingers. Groaning, you scrub at your temples, as if that will help dispel the memories. After a few fruitless moments, you crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom, intent on washing everything away with a good, cold shower.

Try as you might, though, you simply cannot avoid your dark-haired neighbor. You’re in the kitchen sipping at your second coffee of the day and debating what you want for lunch when there’s a knock on the front door—a familiar rhythm that has your heart stuttering. “It’s open!” Jimin yells from the living room, and a moment later, the devil himself strolls in, wearing a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans and well-worn Timberlands. Vaguely, you wonder when he made the switch from white tees to black, but your musings are cut short when he spots you in the kitchen, an impish grin settling across his face.

“Hey, Noona.”

“Hey.” You thank whatever god may be out there that your voice is steady. “Jimin’s in the living room.”

Jungkook tilts his head coyly and takes a step forward. “What makes you think I’m here for Jimin? Maybe I came to see you.”

Anxiously, you swallow down the memories of his warm hands that are trying to resurface. “I highly doubt that.”

“Really?” Jungkook takes another step forward and plucks the coffee mug from your hands. “What if I came over to finish what I started last night?”

Heat floods across your face. “That—that was… I mean, I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow. “Want me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, Noona.” Quietly, he closes the last bit of distance between you, and when he speaks again you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “You see, I think you want me. Just as much as I want you. Am I wrong?”

“Jungkook, we—”

“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Jimin’s head suddenly pops around the doorway, and you nearly jump out of your skin in your effort to put some distance between you and your dark-haired neighbor. “I’m about to start the game without you.”

“Just wanted to grab some coffee and say hi to {Name},” Jungkook replies, raising your half-empty mug to his lips and taking a sip. “Did you want to join us, Noona? It’d be fun to watch you kick Jimin’s ass at Mario Kart again.”

You swallow, hard. “I can’t. I’ve got homework to do.” Not strictly true, perhaps, but you’d been planning on looking over the details of your internship again at some point, and now seems as good a time as any. “Sorry,” you add quickly, seeing Jungkook’s disbelieving expression.

“Summer homework? Gross.” Jimin pulls a face. “You’re still coming to Tae’s party though, right?”

You nod, unwillingly catching Jungkook’s eye again. He’s still sipping at your coffee, and you don’t miss the flagrant wink he shoots you over the rim of the cup. “See you later then, Noona,” he says, his voice practically a purr.

“Right,” you respond dully, your heart skipping a beat at the dark promise in his stare. “Later.”

Jimin and Jungkook disappear down the hall, but you remain rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, listening as the music of whatever video game they’ve decided on starts playing from the living room. Heaving a sigh, you fetch a new mug from the cupboard and pour yourself some more coffee, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips as well. Taking everything up to your bedroom, you pull out your laptop and make yourself comfortable on your bed, plugging in some headphones to drown out the noise from downstairs. With any luck, you won’t have to see Jungkook again until you have to leave for Taehyung’s party, and you’re pretty sure that it’ll be easy to avoid him once you’re there.

In fact, you’re certain of it.

So with that thought in mind, you settle down with your coffee and open up Netflix, sinking into the pillows and pushing your dark-haired neighbor into the deepest recesses of your mind. It isn’t until your phone starts vibrating insistently against your thigh that you are startled out of your binge-watching, the screen lit up with two new notifications. Surprised, you realize that hours have passed, the sky outside your window deepening into the hazy blue of nighttime.

[6:02pm] Jungkook: you hungry, noona?

[6:02pm] Jungkook: for pizza, i mean. we ordered dinner

[6:03pm] Jungkook: but i’ll be your dessert if you want me ;)

You drop your phone as if burned, his final message playing over and over in your mind. It takes you a full minute to gather your wits again, stowing your device in your pocket without responding and carefully picking your way downstairs. Already, you can smell the cheesy grease, your stomach growling in anticipation.

Just grab the pizza and go, you think to yourself, formulating your escape plan and double-checking it for any holes. Dine and dash.

You’re walking past the foyer when there’s suddenly a knock on the front door. Curiously, you answer it, swinging it open to see a familiar grinning face standing on the doorstep. Lee Taemin is a good friend of Jimin’s, and your brother pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of your greeting, clearly expecting the new guest.

“Taemin! Get in here and have some pizza,” Jimin says, his mouth full. “You too, Noona. We got plenty.”

Instead of immediately heading for the food, Taemin wraps you in a hug that has you wheezing for air. “Long time no see, huh? How’ve you been?”

You squirm in his tight embrace, raised to your tiptoes. “Put me down, you heathen. I’m fine right now, but I won’t be if you suffocate me.”

Taemin chortles good-naturedly and releases his grip, ruffling your hair. “Good to see you too, {Name}. Honestly, it hasn’t been the same around here without you. How long are you back for? The whole summer?”

You shake your head. “Just a couple weeks. I’ve got to get back for an internship.”

“Already a hotshot, huh?” Taemin grins. “What are you going to be doing?”

The topic of your summer job is a welcome distraction from the way Jungkook’s dark gaze trails after you as you tread into the kitchen alongside Taemin, slapping two slices of pizza onto a plate and glancing around for a napkin. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull, prickling your skin with electricity, but continue your conversation with Taemin as if nothing is amiss.

“You gonna sit down or what?” Taemin gives you a quizzical glance as he pulls a chair out from the table, joining Jimin and Jungkook who are already seated. You do your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s jaw flexes with every chew, somehow managing to look infuriatingly handsome despite the mouth full of dough and pizza grease staining his chin.

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for the excuse you had planned. “—I still have some work to do. Reading and whatnot.”

“Nerd,” Jimin snorts.

Taemin shrugs. “Okay, then. Suit yourself, I guess.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. But you feel his eyes burning into your skin as you head back upstairs, and it isn’t until you are safely back in your bedroom, sagging against the closed door, that you can finally breathe properly again.

///

You end up departing for the party nearly twenty minutes after the official start time of eight o’clock, caving to Jimin’s insistence on being fashionably late. Personally, you think he just wanted the extra time to work on his hair—making sure every strand is perfectly, effortlessly tousled—and call him out on it as he locks the front door behind you.

“I didn’t spend that long on my hair,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Besides, you’re the one who needed to run back in and get your wallet. What do you even need your wallet for? We’re walking like, four blocks.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you retort. “What if I get murdered and they need to identify my body? What if I get mugged? You never know!”

Taemin falls into step beside you. “What if we need to tip a stripper?” he chimes in.

You nod and raise your hand for a high-five without taking your eyes off your brother. “Exactly! You have to tip your sex workers, Chim!”

Jimin waggles a suggestive eyebrow. “I think I’d rather give them a different ti—”

You push him off the sidewalk before he can finish speaking, pulling a face as he stumbles into the street in a fit of laughter. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you perv!”

The remainder of the short walk to Taehyung’s house passes uneventfully. Jimin doesn’t bother knocking, throwing open the door like he owns the place, and you trail after him with Taemin and Jungkook on your heels. Immediately, you’re assailed by a cacophonous sea of conversation and thumping music, people milling around in the dimly lit interior.

“There you are!” The voice comes from your left, and you barely have time to register the speaker’s face before she’s gasping and engulfing you in a hug. “{Name}, you made it! Hi!”

You laugh, squeezing her back. “Hi, Chaeyoung. It’s good to see you. Sorry I didn’t catch you at graduation.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving you off. “We have all the time in the world to catch up now. Let’s get you away from these boys and find you a drink, shall we?” Flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she loops her arm through yours and begins steering you toward the kitchen. “So what are you in the mood for? The beer’s shit, so I’d stay away from anything in the cooler, but everything else is actually drinkable.”

“Shocking,” you remark, peering at the mess of bottles and cups lining the kitchen counter. There’s a massive bowl of a horrifyingly neon green concoction as well, and you take one whiff before backing away again, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I see Tae’s still making punch.”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Chaeyoung advises. “He’s somehow managed to make it twice as sugary and three times more alcoholic than last year’s. Pretty sure it’s worse than moonshine at this point.”

You grin and locate an empty cup, raising it in her direction. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Chaeyoung refills her own drink, and you settle on a simple blend of cranberry juice and vodka. Together, you head back in the direction of the living room, where Jisoo and Lisa are chattering away on a couch in the corner. They look up at your arrival, greeting you with smiles and hugs, and quickly usher you into a seat beside them.

“So,” Jisoo begins, leaning forward. “How’s college?”

“Tell us everything,” Lisa adds, propping her chin in her palm. “Is it nice living away from home?”

Jisoo waggles her brows. “Forget that. Have you met any guys?”

Unbidden, Jungkook springs to the forefront of your mind, dark eyes staring at you from beneath equally dark hair as he leans down, down, down—

“Nope!” you blurt before your thoughts can progress any further. “I mean, I share a suite with a couple guys, but that doesn’t count.”

“Are they cute?” Lisa prods.

“They must be more mature than these high school boys,” Chaeyoung sighs.

“Hardly,” you snort. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The gossip continues. More people arrive as the night wears on, the living room filling up with dancing bodies. A few girls you don’t know join in your conversation, perching on armrests and ottomans and the carpeted floor as a last resort. Across the hall in the dining room, you spot Taemin setting up a table for beer pong, a triumphant shout going up when Taehyung procures an unopened package of balls from somewhere in the hall closet.

“This is gonna be tournament style, got it?” he announces as he tears the package open. “Winner goes up against the undefeated champs—Jungkook and Yugyeom!”

Even from your comfy seat on the couch, you can see the arrogant twist of Jungkook’s mouth as he leans over to give Yugyeom a high-five. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he tongues his cheek, lounging back into a chair to watch the first round of the game. Jimin steps forward alongside Taehyung, and you watch as your brother scrutinizes the pyramid of cups, poised to make a throw that lifts his shirt just enough to expose a flash of his admittedly toned abdomen.

“He wore that shirt on purpose,” Jisoo accuses, and you huff out a sound that’s more snort than laugh.

“Please, it’s just the only shirt he owns that isn’t dirty. Trust me.”

“I don’t even care,” another girl you don’t know the name of pipes up. “I’d still let him blow my back out.”

You grimace. “And on that note, I suddenly need another drink,” you announce, to giggles. Wrenching out of your cozy seat between Jisoo and Lisa, you wave your near empty cup in farewell and make your way toward the kitchen, carefully skirting around the dancers and beer pong spectators spilling out into the hallway.

The kitchen is deserted when you walk in, everyone having flocked to the dining room to watch the beer pong tournament. Humming along to the music, you open up the fridge and survey its contents, hoping to find something decent. Curiously, you pick your way past a few cans before turning a dark glass bottle around to read the label.

“Are you avoiding me, Noona?”

The voice comes from behind you, deep and sinfully resonant, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s standing just inches away. His breath ruffles through the hair at the nape of your neck, sending gooseflesh prickling across your skin, and when strong hands curl gently around your hips you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I missed you, y’know,” he continues, his mouth finding its way to your ear and nipping lightly at the lobe. “You didn’t talk to me all day, even though I was right there in your house. Ran like a scared little rabbit when you saw me in the kitchen, didn’t you?” Softly, his lips ghost along the column of your throat, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “So, now what? Are you gonna run from me again?”

You don’t think you could if you tried. Your feet are rooted firmly in place, your entire body frozen as you await whatever he’ll do next. And when he urges you to spin around and face him, you obey immediately, your hands coming up to splay against his chest as he presses even closer and rewards your compliance with a kiss.

“Jungkook,” you breathe against his parted lips. “Jungkook, god.”

Slowly, he trails down your neck, leaving soft nips in his wake. “Yes, Noona?”

“We can’t,” you whisper, even as your head falls back to allow him more access to your clavicle. “Jungkook, we can’t do this.”

Your companion raises his head then, his dark gaze meeting yours. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into the soft skin of your waist, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. “If that’s what you want, Noona, just tell me to stop and I will. I promise.”

He’s palming along your hips now. The warmth of his palms seeps into your body, rendering it increasingly difficult to concentrate. His mouth returns to your neck as he awaits your answer, and you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a smirk against the delicate skin of your collarbone when you hesitate a moment too long.

“Well, Noona?”

Fuck it. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe, throwing all remaining remnants of caution to the wind.

Jungkook straightens up to his full height, his smirk widening. “Anything for you, princess,” he remarks before leaning down, winding one hand in your hair and finding purchase in the curve of your waist with the other. The newfound pet name ignites a tendril of heat in the pit of your belly, and when Jungkook finally closes the gap between your lips, you release a breathy moan that he eagerly swallows. The hand in your hair tightens its grip to pull you even closer, tongues and teeth clashing as he deepens the kiss.

It’s only when the need for air becomes critical that you break away from him with a gasp, your lungs aching. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his chest heaving beneath the thin white material of his t-shirt. He releases his grip on your hair, his thumb grazing across your cheek gently instead, and when he leans in to plant another kiss on your mouth, you exhale shakily. “God, Jungkook.”

His arm tightens around your waist. “What do you need, princess?” he asks, and you can’t deny your delight at his continued use of the nickname. His teeth find the lobe of your ear again, and you release a breathy moan as he delivers a particularly sharp nip to the soft flesh before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below it. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

You slide your hands along his broad shoulders and up to his nape, brushing the silver hoops in his ears before tangling your fingers in his silky hair. “You’re teasing me.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and pulls away, your arms falling uselessly to your sides as he takes a step back. “I just need to hear you say it, Noona,” he chides, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I need to hear you say that you want this. That you want me.”

A shiver dances up your spine, and you aren’t sure whether it’s due to his wicked lilt or the sudden absence of his body heat. “I want you,” you whisper, reaching out to touch him. “Jungkook, please.”

The smirk that spreads across his face is absolutely devastating. “Then come with me,” he commands softly, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. You leave behind the thumping music and the loud chatter of the party, allowing Jungkook to pull you into one of several rooms lining the hallway and squeaking when he shuts the door and immediately pins you against it. His mouth slants across yours, hot and urgent, and you moan into the kiss as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Jungkook breathes, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against your lips. “Fuck, princess, look at this tiny little skirt you’re wearing. You’ve been killing me all night, you know that?”

He punctuates the words with another kiss, nipping harshly at your bottom lip. His hands slide down to the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he scoops you up effortlessly. “Legs around my waist,” he orders, readjusting his grip as he begins walking you further into the room.

It’s the laundry room, you realize upon closer inspection. Jungkook’s busy mouthing at your neck, but he breaks away with a smirk when he finally reaches his destination, plopping you down atop the cool metal of the washing machine. “Shame there’s nothing in here,” he remarks, kicking the side softly. “I really wanna fuck you with this thing running one day. But for now…” His smirk widens, his hands settling on your knees. “This’ll do.”

In an instant, he’s pushed up your skirt and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He drops to his knees, smoothing his hands along your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush when he urges you to spread them further. “Jungkook—“ you mumble, thoroughly embarrassed as he stares reverently at your exposed core, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Quit staring at me like that.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a soft trail of kisses along your thigh. “You’re so beautiful, Noona.”

“You…”

You trail off, unsure of what to say. What do you say when your little brother’s best friend is staring at you like you’re a desert oasis and he’s been wandering, dehydrated, for days? What do you say when the scrawny neighbor kid you’d grown up with is caressing every inch of your legs, soothing the soft skin with his fingers and lips?

What do you say when you realize, once and for all, that Jeon Jungkook is undoubtedly—unabashedly—a man now?

You swallow, hard. Jungkook is nearing your core now, his hair tickling your thighs, and you gasp when he slides a finger up your slit experimentally. “You’re so wet,” he breathes. “So wet, and so—” He touches the pad of his finger to his tongue, grinning up at you as he laps up your essence. “—delicious. Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

And then he leans forward, boldly licking a stripe up the length of your entrance. Strong arms wind around your legs to hold you open, and when he shoves his face even deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, you let out a strangled whimper. “Fuck, Jungkook—”

The sound of his name draws a pleased hum from the young man nestled between your thighs, rumbling through his chest and straight to your core. Your walls clench, but Jungkook stubbornly refuses to dip his tongue inside. Instead, he teases at your folds, spreading them apart with two fingers and licking ardently at your leaking juices before kissing a short trail up to your clit. “Can you cum like this?” he asks curiously, thumbing across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His answer comes in the form of a breathy gasp, your hips jerking upward to seek out more friction. Jungkook chuckles and obliges your silent request, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours as he begins rubbing slow circles around your bud. “Guess that’s a yes,” he murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to your thigh. His gaze remains locked on yours as he rubs a little harder, dragging your juices up from your slit and digging in deep until you are moaning aloud, your hands coming down to fist in his silky hair.

“I-I’m close,” you keen. “Please, Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook hums and leans back. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them upward, and the sudden surge of fullness is more than enough to tip you over the edge. His name escapes your lips in a garbled moan, your walls spasming around his hand as he continues teasing your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you finally whine from oversensitivity and bat him away. Obediently, he withdraws, rising to his feet so that he towers over you once more.

“Holy fuck,” he murmurs, staring down at you with an expression caught somewhere between awestruck wonder and unbridled hunger. “You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty and perfect and—” He swallows, his throat bobbing harshly. “God, I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you now, Noona? Will you let me stretch open this pretty little pussy and fill you up with my cock?”

Your breath hitches. Never in a million years could you have imagined that your brother’s mild-mannered best friend could have such a filthy mouth, but you cannot hide the way your core clenches at his words. Slowly, you raise your arms, winding them around his neck to pull him closer. “Yes,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

A groan escapes him, deep and cavernous in a way that sends heat spiking through your veins. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, his mouth chasing after yours as one hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other slides down to the waistband of his jeans, freeing himself from the confines of the denim. He doesn’t break the kiss for a moment, even as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. It isn’t until you’re seated on the very edge of the washing machine, wrapping your legs around his waist to steady yourself, that you pull away and let your gaze fall to his newly revealed cock. Jungkook is long and deliciously thick, and you let out a shaky breath when you see the pearlescent white drops beading at the swollen tip.

“Oh my god.” The words bubble up automatically, escaping you in an airy whisper. “How are you so big?”

Jungkook huffs out a hoarse chuckle, amusement glittering in his dark irises. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”

Your gaze falls down to his length again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Put on a condom, and let’s find out.”

Jungkook grins and produces a little foil wrapper from somewhere in his back pocket, tearing into it with his teeth. You help him roll the condom over his cock, and as soon as it’s in place, he’s lining himself up and pushing inside you. A deep groan escapes him as he parts your walls inch by torturous inch, and you moan as your pussy is stretched to its limit, molding to his shape and sheer size. By the time he bottoms out, he’s almost prodding at your cervix, and you grab breathlessly at his bicep.

“I—I need a minute,” you gasp, your body spasming around him as you fight to adjust to the surge of fullness.

“Me too,” Jungkook rasps, his voice strained. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply through his nose, cursing again when you clench around him unconsciously. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”

For a few moments, there’s only the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder. His breath is hot against the exposed skin of your clavicle, and you sigh when you feel him mouthing at the delicate skin, nipping softly before soothing across it with his tongue.

At the sound, Jungkook raises his head, dark eyes meeting yours before dropping down to where the two of you are joined. “God, you look so good like this,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “So pretty, stuffed full of my cock.”

You clench around him again—this time more purposefully. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, a silent question on the tip of his tongue, and you answer it with a deliberate roll of your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. Gingerly, he obeys, retreating until only the head of his erection remains inside you. His hand drops down to your clit, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks his thumb across the sensitive nub. Pleasure licks at your spine, replacing the discomfort. Jungkook lets out a pleased hum.

Slowly, he works up a rhythm, keeping his thrusts shallow as he begins rubbing circles around your clit again. With his other hand, he slides the straps of your top down your shoulders, tugging the bodice down just enough to free your breasts. Your nipples harden at the exposure, and a moan escapes you when he immediately takes one between his fingers, rolling and pinching at the peak. The additional stimulation, paired with the heavy drag of his cock along your walls and his insistent thumb on your clit, has you teetering dangerously close to the edge, your tummy tensing.

“Jungkook—” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He grunts in response and picks up the pace, rolling even more fervently up into your clenching heat, and you gasp when a particularly hard thrust sends you scooting backward atop the washing machine. “Fuck! I’m close, Jungkook.”

“Me too,” he grits out. “Come on, princess, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go for me one more time—”

And with one final flick of his wrist and a thrust that’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, you come completely undone, spasming wildly around his cock. It all proves too much for Jungkook, who’s groaning right alongside you as he reaches his high, spilling into the condom. He chants your name like a prayer as his hips gradually still, and his lips seek out yours almost instinctively as his cock softens inside you. The kiss is lazy and languid, contentment settling in your veins. Jungkook wraps you up in a warm embrace, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to explore.

It isn’t until a loud cheer rises up from the front of the house that you snap out of your blissful haze. “We should get back to the party,” you mumble into the kiss, pushing against Jungkook’s chest when he only pulls you closer. “Jungkook, come on. People are gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

“You know what else will make people suspicious? You, coming out like that.” He gestures at the skirt hiked up around your waist, a slow smirk playing at his lips as he gives you a once-over, his gaze lingering on the wet sheen streaking your inner thighs. “As much as I’m enjoying the view.”

You swat his arm. “Stop that!”

Jungkook snickers and bends down to pick up your discarded panties, swinging them around his index finger. “Stop what?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook.”

Cackling, he returns the lacy undergarment to you, watching as you pull the material up your legs. You adjust your shirt while he disposes of his condom, and when you hop off the washing machine, he offers you a hand that you gratefully accept, gripping his arm as you steady yourself on shaky legs.

“You should leave first,” you tell him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt and relishing the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingertips. “It’ll look weird if we leave together, and I need to pee, anyway.”

Jungkook grins and catches your wrists, swooping down to plant a quick kiss on your mouth. “As you wish,” he says, offering you a playful wink.

Then he’s straightening back up to his full height, checking his pockets and running a hand through his mussed hair. You watch as he walks over to the door, putting his ear against it for a few seconds before determining that the coast is clear and slipping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind him, you hear someone—you’re pretty sure it’s a drunk Yugyeom—greet him with a resounding clap on the back. “Dude, where have you been all night? We’re getting our asses handed to us. Minho and Taemin are winning.”

“Sorry, man,” Jungkook half-shouts, and you realize that he’s making sure you can hear him. “Come on. Let’s go get that crown.”

Leaning against the door, you listen as their voices recede down the hallway. You count to five, and then to ten when your thumping heart refuses to slow. At nineteen, it finally calms down—enough that you feel comfortable leaving the laundry room and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

There’s a massive crowd gathered in the dining room by the time you rejoin the party, and you easily slip unnoticed into the mass of people eagerly watching the final round of the beer pong tournament. Jungkook stands at the far end of the table beside Yugyeom, poised to throw.

He catches your eye at the same time he releases the ball with a flick of his wrist, a knowing smirk settling on his face as triumphant cheers break out all around you.

///

It’s well after midnight by the time the party begins to wind down. Chaeyoung and Lisa are nowhere to be found, and several other girls are lingering near the front door saying their goodbyes before heading out. You find yourself seated on the couch between Jimin and Minho, watching as the latter helps clean up by hurling beer cans at the wastebasket on the other end of the room.

“Man, no wonder you suck at pong.” Jungkook walks into the room and plops down on an end table, a faded cardboard Burger King crown sitting rakishly on his head. “Want me to show you how the champs do it?”

Minho snorts. “Fuck off, man, you barely won that second game. Besides, we totally would’ve won if Taemin hadn’t spent half the time staring at Lisa’s tits.”

Taemin, who’s perched on a corner of the coffee table, raises his hands innocently. “Hey, don’t look at me. I scored most of the points that round.”

Minho huffs irritably and tosses another can at the wastebasket, cursing when it bounces off the rim. Taehyung wanders in and picks it up, throwing it back at Minho before squeezing into the miniscule amount of space between you and Jimin on the couch.

“Jesus, Tae,” you grunt, shifting to give him more room. The movement tilts you toward Minho, smushing you against his side, and he shoots you a playful grin and a wink.

“Cozy?”

“Cozy,” you confirm with a laugh.

“Good,” he says, freeing his arm and throwing it across the back of the couch to give you a little more space. “It’s nice having you around again, Noona.”

Jungkook’s head whirls around so quickly you fear he might have given himself whiplash. His stare zeroes in on Minho’s arm, eyes narrowing at the proximity, but the other boy remains blissfully unaware as he leans back against the couch cushions. Subtly, you lean forward, trying to put some distance between your bodies.

“It’s nice to be back,” you tell him. “It feels like I missed so much, but at the same time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“Choi’s aim sure hasn’t changed,” Yugyeom remarks from the doorway with a handful of empty beer bottles. “Still can’t land a shot, even after all these years.” Raising a bottle, he hefts it toward the wastebasket, smirking in satisfaction when it sinks perfectly inside the can.

“And not just with pong,” Taemin goads. “How did things go with Sana again?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. Besides, we’d all probably stand a better chance if Jeon over there would leave some girls for the rest of us.”

“You’re just jealous because Sana likes him better than she likes you,” Taehyung says with a snicker. “Yo, Jeon! Didn’t you guys make it to third base at Jackson’s party?”

Your stomach sinks as all eyes in the room turn to Jungkook, whose eyes go wide at the sudden attention. “What?”

“Sa. Na,” Taehyung repeats, emphasizing each syllable. “Hottest girl in our year? Third base at Jackson’s? Or are you having a hard time remembering since you wound up leaving with Jihyo?”

Yugyeom chortles as he plops down onto the carpeted floor. “Fuck, man, I forgot about that. Jesus. Just last year you were still shitting yourself at the thought of talking to a girl. Who knew you secretly had so much game?”

The room is beginning to feel stifling. Every breath you take feels like you’re inhaling ash, like a volcano that has lain dormant for ages has suddenly and without warning erupted inside your chest.

He’s playing you. And even worse, it seems that this is a game he’s played before—many times, if his friends are to be believed. Your stomach turns at the thought.

From his perch on the end table, Jungkook scoffs out a stilted, staccato note. “Right. I guess any nonzero number would seem high to you guys, huh?”

Loud jeers break out from the surrounding boys, and you do your best to melt back into the couch cushions. The way you’re squished between Taehyung and Minho makes it impossible for you to find any leverage to stand, so you settle for leaning your head back and staring at the stucco ceiling, willing your heartbeat to slow. Gradually, the noise of the party fades into the background, as do the voices of your brother and his friends. It’s only when Jimin pokes your shoulder, singsonging your name, that you break out of your trance.

“What? Huh?”

“The lake house,” Jimin says, looking at you as if you’re stupid. “You down?”

You can only blink at him, repeating the words back to him dumbly. “The lake house?”

Jimin raises a brow. “Yeah, the lake house. You know, our lake house? The one we drive up to every summer? Where we’ve been vacationing since we were like, five?”

You scowl when he pinches your cheek like you’re a child again. “Yeah, I got that. What about it?”

A snort. “Jeez, have you been listening at all, Noona? We’re talking about going up there for a few days.”

“Oh,” you croak. Unwillingly, you find yourself glancing over at Jungkook, your face growing warm when you see him staring right back, his expression careful and composed. “Right.”

“You should come, Noona,” Taemin pipes up. “You’re here for the next few weeks, right? Might as well have some fun.”

“I don’t know—” you begin, but Jimin cuts you off with a raised finger and another pinch to your cheek.

“You can’t just do homework the whole time you’re here,” he says. “Come with us, Noona. Live a little.”

“It’ll help get your mind off your internship, too,” Jungkook remarks softly. “You deserve a break. Just a few days won’t hurt.”

The fact that he remembers your internship woes shouldn’t make your heart lurch. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help the way your chest swells dangerously. “Fine,” you concede, reaching over Taehyung to pinch Jimin’s cheek in retaliation. “I’ll come, I guess.”

Taehyung and Taemin cheer, and Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you tight. “We should invite the other girls,” he points out, chuckling when you splutter for air in his ironclad grasp and try in vain to shake him off. “Don’t want it to be a total sausage fest.”

“Penis party is a much better term,” Taehyung interjects helpfully. “It’s alliterative.”

“You want alliterative? How about a cock carnival?” Jimin supplies, before doubling over in giggles.

You huff, exasperated at the ludicrous turn in conversation. “I can’t believe I’m coming with you guys.”

Minho snickers. “Title of your sex tape,” he jokes, punctuating it with a suggestive eyebrow waggle that sobers your brother up immediately. Jimin straightens up and fixes Minho with a glare, and despite your brother’s smaller stature, the older boy still shrinks back slightly.

“Dude, that’s my sister.”

Minho raises his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Automatic response. My bad.”

You just roll your eyes. “Are you twelve? God. I don’t know how the girls put up with any of you.”

Gradually, the night draws to a close. The number of people milling about dwindles, and Taehyung fiddles with his phone, letting out a satisfied hum when he finds the playlist he wants. The music transforms into something low and smooth, the soft R&B beat filling the room. You feel your eyes begin to droop.

“We should probably head home,” Jimin says, stretching his arms lazily overhead. “Noona here has to get her beauty sleep, and I don’t feel like carrying her back if she falls asleep here.”

“Shut up, Chim,” you mumble, but there’s no real bite in your tone. Jimin just chuckles and stands up, tugging on your hand until you’re on your feet as well. Jungkook straightens up too, and together, you bid farewell to the others and head for the door.

“{Name}, wait a second.”

You turn at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, tilting your head curiously as she lays a gentle hand on your arm and ushers you off to the side. “Yeah?”

Jisoo casts a furtive glance around the hallway, lowering her voice to a murmur. “I see what’s going on with Jungkook,” she whispers once she’s sure the coast is clear.

You stiffen, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to find your voice again. “You… you saw us?”

She nods. “He’s been watching you all night—it’d honestly be harder not to notice. I just…” She sighs and looks around again, missing the relief that must be etched across your expression as her gaze lingers on where Jungkook and Jimin are loitering by the door. “…just be careful, okay? Jungkook—he’s changed this past year. I mean, I don’t know if all the rumors are true, but… he’s not the same guy you probably remember. He went out with Chae for a few weeks, did she tell you that?”

At your look of horror, she sighs. “Figures. She hides it well, but I know she’s still torn up about how he ended it after they slept together. So watch out for him, okay? He’s a heartbreaker. And he never, ever stays until the morning.”

Every word that leaves her mouth stings, but you don’t let that show on your face. Instead, you force a smile and pat her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell her. “I’m not going to get involved with him.”

You repeat that to yourself the whole way home, trying not to focus on the young man a few paces away and the way you can still taste him on your tongue.

[heresathreebee]

KINKTOBER DAY 6 Foodplay/Rimming

Colonel Rick X Reader

AN: will edit tomorrow, too tired

It's your daughter's first day of first grade and to celebrate, Rick is in the kitchen making waffles and pancakes. And to his great annoyance, you had found a can of whipped cream in the fridge door. 

"Stop doing that," he scolded you over his shoulder and flips the last pancake, "that shit is nothing but pure sugar and she's gonna be too full to eat real food." 

Your laugh sounds muffled and whoops the image of you swiping white cream from your lips… but god willing, it will not tempt him right now. Today's about getting your daughter to school after that disaster of a kindergarten year. 

"Here." 

Rick swipes the can of cream from your hands and places two plates stacked high with fluffy, chocolate or blueberry baked breakfast delights. Your daughter squealed her delight and grabbed one of everything then she sat back and stared at it. 

Rick glanced at you in confusion but you were distracted (he was leaning on the counter and his biceps were bulging) so he asked, "'s a matter, darlin'?" 

Big and pretty eyes focused on him from behind the mountain she piled on her plate. "I'm not hungry anymore." 

Rick saw you stiffen as if you were struck with rigamortis and he tried his best not to glare at you in front of her. 

"You're fine baby, here–" 

You danced around Rick and filled a glass of water to bring back to her. She drank it at your behest as you fixed a plate for yourself. And like clockwork, the water washed the immediate taste of sugar from her mouth and she dug into the cholocate chip waffle at the top of her pile. 

Two parents sighed in unison and walked their daughter down to the bus stop. She held onto both of your hands, swinging back and forth to distract herself. She almost didn't go– Rick had to promise to come pick her up if she didn't want to stay but she had to stay until lunch. 

When she finally boarded the bus (with a face like you were sending her to boarding school), the two of you returned to the mess in the kitchen. You groaned, kicking your slippers to the side and huffing all the way home. 

"Oh stop it, it was your idea," Rick laughed. "Do you think she'll be ok?" 

You nod. "If she didn't want to go, we'd have had to drag her kicking and screaming. She'll be alright babe." 

Rick starts to load the soaked dishes from the sink to the dishwasher and you pause looking over the leftovers. "Did you have any of these?" 

"Hm? No, I didn't," your husband replied. He felt a tap on his shoulder and found you offering him a bit of blueberry pancake on a fork. "My hands are wet." 

"I'll do it for you, dummy." 

Rick opened his mouth to receive. The fool. Instead of a mouthful of pancake he got whip creamed instead. His sigh sounded, in your ears, like a deeply irritated 'goddamn.' You laughed yourself hoarse and offered the fork again. 

Rick watched you this time but true to your original word, you let him take a bite of what he wanted. Aaaand almost as a reflex, you licked the stray, sticky syrup from his chin. He definitely shivered– you felt it, but he doesn't scold you or bend you over the table like you hoped. 

You let him have his moment of restraint. The two of you fucked like rabbits, he knew what was on your mind. The dishwasher was loaded and plates emptied, all that was left was to soak the remaining dishes and wipe down the counters and table. 

But you watched him set up– hand towel over the shoulder ready to handwash what was left like he was unaffected by you. 

On Rick's part, he wasn't trying to frustrate you, he just didn't like to half ass a job (can't relate honestly). He heard you stomping in the direction of your bedroom. He was intent to ignore it to finish his task, but then he heard you stomp back into the kitchen and stop. 

The sudden silence bothered him. That and the feeling of your eyes burning holes into the back of his head. He half glanced– looked at the fridge to find you in his peripherals– but you weren't moving. 

Finally he half turned and found you doing exactly what it sounded like you were doing– standing, leaning, waiting (rather impatiently actually). 

And you had the whip cream still. You tapped your finger and the intensity of your glare gives him no choice but to stop. 

"What?" 

You don't answer but you do crook your finger at him. Rick dries his hands and obeys. Every step he takes towards you has your tightass stance unwinding and by the time he reaches you, you've relaxed into a lazy lean and mischievous grin. 

He asks again, "what?" 

You grab him by his belt buckle and drag him closer to you. "Take your pants off and bend over for me." 

You feel Rick stiffen. "...why?" 

"Because I wanna do something to you," you answer cryptically. 

"Am I going to enjoy what you're about to do to me?" 

You scoff. "I think you will, yes. If it's not, you're welcome to tap out." 

Rick's fingers twitched. "Let me put this away first." 

He reaches for the can of cream but you stop him. "This is a part of it." 

He says your name in warning. You can see he's uncomfortable about it and maybe he's right to be– you have been unpredictable and childish today– but you push forward. Give him your best, most sincere puppy dog eyes. 

"Please? I'll take it slow, if you don't want it, tell me and I'll stop," you say. "It's sort of a… continuation of Sunday's exploration…" 

You stuck your finger in his ass while he was pounding into you (he liked it a lot actually, he just doesn't do it often). You can see his thousand yard stare as he recalls Sunday’s events that left him shaking with pleasure for an hour after. 

"...ok." 

Rick reaches for his belt and undones it slowly. You know in your head it's because he's still on the fence about it but your adrenaline rises and you take pleasure in watching him strip. Once his pants are at his ankles, you feel like you need to help ease him into the mood. 

You start by cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Long, deep kisses that convey your commitment to pacing yourself. He kisses you back in kind and struggles to remove his underwear past his knees because he doesn't want to pause kissing you even for a second. He gives up after a second and puts both hands on your waist to pull you closer, deeper into the kisses. 

"I love you," you whisper in between dipping your tongue into his mouth. "I'm going to take care of you." 

Rick moans in answer and you feel 'something' poking your stomach. You break away from his lips and pepper kisses down the column of his throat, over his shirt clad heart and chest and you sink to your knees pulling his underwear with it. 

You look up at him knowing it's his second favorite position to have you in. His bright eyes are dark and he swallows roughly but instead of giving his awaiting cock a kiss, you stand. 

"Now bend over." Rick hesitates but obeys. "Good boy." 

He glares at you over his shoulder but he does as you ask, setting his hands palms down on the counter and spreading his legs as much as his pants will allow. He jerks when he feels your hand massage the inside of his thigh, but when you don't move on right away, he is able to relax into it. 

I trust you, he thinks. He feels your hair tickle the base of his spine and you plant a kiss on his back, then you straighten up and massaging more of his hips, his butt, his thighs without touching his most sensitive parts. 

When he feels you massage his cheeks a little harder, pulling them apart, letting go, and doing it on repeat, his cock hardens. You haven't touched it once and his intuition tells him you don't want him to either. His breathing picks up and it feels like you're torturing him now. 

Did you change your mind? Are you having second thoughts? 

As if on cue, you ask him: "have you ever… tried rimming before?" 

Oh… that was the last thing Rick was expecting you to say. 

You got nervous when you saw his head jerk up from the counter. You were preparing to step back and give him space, but he reached a hand back and caught a belt loop in your pants which he used to drag you closer to him (hips pressed to hips). He seemed to be considering his answer. 

"...yeah… I have." He looks back at you. "Is that what you want to do?" 

You nod cautiously. If he's not into it, you're not going to make him feel like he has to for your sake. Your sex life is fine without anal play– if he's not into it, you'll survive. 

Oh but to your great fortune, Rick is very much into it. He puts his head back down on the table and, as a show of good faith, he tries to spread his legs just a centimeter further. 

"Go for it." 

He's a shivering mess. Your fingers felt good inside him but your tongue? Expert. He was going to lose his hearing from how loud he was moaning and whimpering. If he knew you were touching yourself right now, he’d have come without even trying. 

“Please, please, please–” Rick choked when you finally touched him where he needed you most. You wrapped your hand around his cock and tugged. Stroking him roughly and pulling towards you which jostled his balls as well. At this point he was barely breathing. 

He started to say your name but– “Uhhnnn–”

Rick comes in your hand and all over your shirt. You refrain from slipping a second finger into him only because you might kill him if you did. He comes so hard he’s dizzy and he barely has enough sense to reach across the counter and hold himself onto it. 

He had been leaning back into your touch, hips inching further and further away and to keep him from falling on you, you stand and push him back up, draping yourself over his back to hug him. 

It’s ten minutes before Rick comes down from his high. His breathing is deep and evened, legs freezing cold but back warm, at least everywhere you were. 

"Rick…Rick…" 

He shakes you with a laugh. "Yeah baby? You sure know how to work my shit, don't you?" 

He cleared his throat and said adoringly, "you are going to be the death of me." 

[kcatta-wodahs]

OM Demon Brothers react to MC in a Depressive Episode

sometimes even a human wants to sleep for 16 hours in a day no big deal

Lucifer

He can’t help but wonder what has happened. For some reason, your every smile has become fleeting. A flash of gratitude, and then your face returns to the blankness that seems to have become normal.

He saw you staring out the window at noon, and walked by again at three to see that you hadn’t moved an inch.

He notices that you look at the clock more often, and once 7 o’clock hits you immediately retreat to your bedroom. He notices that you don’t talk during breakfast or dinner anymore.

When he decides to learn what has happened, he fully expects to have to kill someone. He isn’t prepared to face off the response of “this just happens sometimes.”

He insists you explain. You’re so tired, but you do the best you can. The joy that is in every day just seems so impossible to reach now. It should get better in a week or two.

Lucifer wants to fight against this unseen enemy, but it seems that there’s nothing he can do. You promise to get your chores and homework done as usual, and he has no reasonable reason to request anything more.

So he makes sure you’re still taking care of yourself. If he catches you staring at the wall for hours on end, he gets you water. He draws a bath for you at the end of the day. He provides you with headphones and music to soothe your mind. His favorite tracks for the end of a long day.

He doesn’t pressure you to return to normal, but you can be damn sure he’s watching carefully to make sure to help pull you up when you need it.

Mammon

You spend all day in your room now. Your responses to him on your D.D.D. consist of one or two words.

Has he done something to spite you? Are you pushing him away? One day, after about five full of worrying and trying to come up with the most exciting plans possible to make you want to hang out with him, he demands answers.

He knocks on your door, puffed up with indignation, ready to let you know that you have no right to ignore your FIRST 

But all of the fight drains out of him when you open the door and he sees the exhaustion on your face. The blanket that came with you to open the door, and the puffy eyes,

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were sick, you dumbass?!” 

You didn’t want to bother him. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and he wouldn’t have any fun with you in this state anyway. And it’s not like you’re sick sick. 

He flicks your forehead with a finger and glares at you. He tells you he doesn’t care about having fun or being bothered. You’re supposed to tell him when you need something. Him before anyone else.

You tell him that you don’t know what you need. You can’t get yourself to talk to anyone.

He decides that’s fine and all, but he’s not leaving your side if you can’t respond to his texts, so you better get used to your new roommate until you get better. 

You’re worried about this arrangement, worried that he’s overextending himself or upset with you, but those worries get fainter and fainter the longer he hugs you. 

Leviathan

He’s seen you stare at the TV for an hour, the background music of the Devilbox 3 playing on a loop. He’s seen you flip between game icons for ten minutes. Then you click on one, and the second the title screen comes up you change your mind and exit the game. He’s seen you do the same for anime to watch, or even taking that long to decide which app to open on your D.D.D.

He hears the long sighs that you give. The ones you don’t even notice from being so numb.

Levi isn’t a stranger to depression. He starts to figure it out pretty quickly. 

He offers things that he wanted on his worst days. He holds you and cuddles you, and tells you that you’re perfect.

Whenever your depression convinces you to refute him, he fights it back with loving words and stubbornness. You are perfect, and your brain is just wrong.

When he gets through to you enough to admit that you just don’t have the energy to invest in any games, even the ones you love, he offers to play them for you.

You think it’s a little silly at first, but eventually find that mindlessly watching him try to navigate a new platformer is far more calming than trying to decide on something to do yourself.

You curl up against him while watching him play, and for the first time in several days, you feel a bit of contentment breathe through the numbness. 

Beelzebub

Beel gets worried when he doesn’t see you at breakfast. And then he doesn’t see you at dinner. And then breakfast the next day.

For a moment, he worries that you’re actually lost and injured somewhere, but his brothers assure him that you went to school yesterday for sure, and walked home with them too.

Still, he comes to visit you when you don’t come to lunch the next day - on a weekend. 

You force a smile for him when you open the door, and thank him for the meal he brought.

He sees that your room is littered with empty snack bags.

“Is that all you’ve been eating?” he asks, gesturing to them.

You quickly apologize and start cleaning them up, trying to sound fine.

“Why aren’t you coming to meals? Did someone curse you?” he asks, bristling protectively.

You’re just not hungry, you explain. Everything is okay.

But the state of your room, the nest of blankets on your bed, that tells a different story.

Beel doesn’t know how to explain what is so clear to him. Something is wrong, but he can’t find the words. 

“Can I stay with you, then?”

You are surprised by his words, but he comes over and hugs you before you can respond.

“I’ll bring you dinner. And breakfast. Okay?”

Your heart melts right into his embrace, along with you. You can’t explain what’s going on, but you know this helps.

Asmodeus

Baby. Oh, honey. Darling. It’ll be okay.

He showers you with love and compliments and snuggles.

He treats you to a spa day, and absolutely refuses to hear any protests about how much he’s doing for you.

He insists that it's for both of you, because he would NEVER pass up on a spa day!

Having clear skin helps have a clear mind, he says. 

And taking care of yourself is the best way to prove to the world that you are worth it.

To prove to yourself.

He wants you to know that you are worth it. Every second.

And he ensures that you treat yourself.

If you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed, he will straight up carry you into the bathtub.

The way that he cares for you is so gentle and genuine that you find yourself feeling just the slightest bit better as he massages shampoo into your hair. 

He will do anything to cheer you up.

Satan

He notices that you’re distracted. You keep looking at your book, sure, but he hasn’t seen you turn a single page.

You explain that you just can’t focus, but it’s okay. This happens sometimes, because you have depression.

He tries to correct your grammar, saying “You feel depressed. Unless you’re talking like Levi’s cheeseburger cats?”

That forces a laugh out of you, even if it’s short. Then you go searching through the shelves sorted as “unread” until you find a lovely thick DSM edition hiding in the psychology section.

You turn to the page with your symptoms, and point to it. Major Depressive Disorder.

“I have depression.”

He stiffens as he reads the symptoms, and looks at you with concern. “You.. feel this way?”

“Most of it. Sometimes,” you shrug.

“What can I do?”

You really don’t know, though. That’s the hardest thing about this.

He spends the whole day going through the list of symptoms and trying to come up with ways to support you through each one. 

The amount of care he takes--, making sure to explain that he’s currently working on improving your anhedonia, for example -- doesn’t make it go away, but it does make you feel safe. 

Belphegor

He just Gets It.

He's been there.

He will stay in bed with you as long as you want.

But he'll remind you to take care of yourself. He'll tell you to take a shower, or eat something.

He'll be pushy about it too, because he knows that it helps even when you really really really don't want to

If you start feeling self-conscious or like a burden to him, he will tell you to stop listening to your depression brain. 

He fights your every insecurity with stories, memories, and firm reminders. If any of this were true, would he be here with you, now?

He never pushes you to lie about how you're feeling, and is honestly probably one of the best people to have around during this time.

He reminds you that it will pass. It’s okay.

[loversandantiheroes]

Hotel Hobbies - Part 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!Reader Author’s Note: This was not going to be a multi-chapter thing, but then people liked it and Whiskey wouldn’t shut the hell up so here we are, folks.  I no longer know where this is going so strap the fuck in I guess.  This is so long and I am so sorry. Edited for a cleanup 10/5/2020 Summary:  A co-worker gives the Reader a little nudge, which backfires just a bit when Whiskey runs unexpectedly late. Warnings: Public sex, exhibitionism, angry sex, mild choking/breath play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, spitting, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (do as I say not as I fictionalize), creampies, come eating, vague allusions to Whiskey’s job and all the dangers contained therein, Whiskey is a service top and I do not take criticism, very brief mention of Whiskey’s past, exactly one (1) use of Spanish that I hope I didn’t fuck up too badly. Rating: Explicit / NSFW / 18+ / How much clearer can I make this? Word Count: 12k+ (oh GOD do not look at me I have no idea what happened) Previous: Prelude / Part 1 / Interlude Taglist: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @oloreaa @the-feckless-wonder @sarcasmisakindofmagic

The conference drags on into its fourth day in a parade of excessively bored people in suits and pencil skirts toting stale danishes and overpriced coffee; the only comforts provided to distract you from the mobius circle-jerk of tedious corporate bullshit. Most of the assembly hall does little more than nod blandly as yet another guest speaker goes through their presentation, the topic of which you forget at least six times throughout the course of it. Half of the attendees aren't even bothering to take notes anymore. The company could've filled the room with potted plants in cheap suits and gotten a better result.  At least the plants would provide a little oxygen to the atmosphere.

It certainly doesn't help your case that half of your brain is circling endlessly around Whiskey. You scribble down a set of shorthand bullet points in your notes and try to blink away the image of his arms straining against taut ropes.  You sip your coffee and remember the heat of his tongue chasing the taste of his namesake in your mouth. When you cross your legs and feel the deep, pleasant twinge between them, for a split second all you can think about is the way he felt sinking down into you with his teeth against your neck.

The time absolutely crawls by. There's moments when you half expect to look up at the old analog clock on the wall and see the hands start running backward. Of course this would be the day the presentations run long, wouldn't it?  Restless and fidgety, you eventually give up on your notes completely and just resign your attention to the clock and whatever obscenity your brain wants to conjure up from the night before.

Claudia, one of your only work friends that actually opted to attend this fiasco, gives you increasingly amused looks throughout the morning, glancing up at you over her phone (on which, you can't help but notice, she has been playing Bejeweled for the past hour with the brightness turned down). After you check the clock for the fifth time in twenty minutes, unable to really keep yourself from sighing angrily through your nose, she shakes her head at you, laughing quietly.

"So what's his name?" she whispers, leaning over conspiratorially.

You give her a glare, but she only raises her eyebrows expectantly. Goddamn it, why does the entire universe find it so funny when you're irritated?

"Whiskey," you mutter back, glowering.

She has to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop a snorting giggle from being loud enough to cause a disruption. "Oh my god," she sputters. "Are you fucking a biker?"

And okay, maybe that is a little funny. You shake your head, mutter back, "Cowboy."

Claudia grins so wide her shoulders pull up with it. "Save a horse," she whispers, trying to dodge out of the way when you elbow her to cut off the rest of the joke. Three people behind you simultaneously shush the two of you, and you toss a dirty look over your shoulder, settling back into your seat.

A few seconds go by before Claudia's leaning back over to quietly add, "The dick must be good to get you this distracted."

"Shut up," you shoot back, but you're already smiling.

When the presentation ends, the entire auditorium raising up on creaking knees to shuffle out to break for lunch, Claudia's hand clamps down on your arm.

"I'm buying lunch and you're going to tell me everything."

So you do.  Parked in her conservative little hybrid over styrofoam boxes of take out, you tell her. Damn near everything, too. She listens with rapt attention, this not being the first time she's poked you for details of your love life, such as it is, but judging by the look on her face it's possibly taken the top spot as the most memorable.

"So you're gonna see him again," she says finally as you tell her about Whiskey's invitation before slipping out the door this morning.

You settle back, trying to make yourself look suitably apathetic before answering in the hopes of not being completely transparent. "I dunno. Maybe."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh please. You're gonna see him again. You've been spaced out with dickbrain all day, there's no way you're turning down that invitation."

You wave the end of your plastic fork threateningly. "I will stab you, I swear."

"Not with this many witnesses," she says with a wave at the horde of pedestrians outside on the sidewalk, blatantly ignoring the shanking motions you make in warning.  

When she doesn't drop that annoying, knowing look, you start jabbing at your food, rolling a piece of cucumber around the styrofoam. "I mean...ok yeah I thought about it."

"All morning," Claudia provides.

"Fuck you," you counter lightly, and resist the urge to fling the chunk of cucumber at her. "I just...I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Oh my god, why not?" she cries, head thrown back in exasperation.

"Well it's not exactly fucking sensible, is it?"

"Honey if you were worried about being sensible you wouldn't have fucked a cowboy you picked up at a hotel bar," she says with a shake of her head.

"Did you miss the part where he tried to convince me he was James fucking Bond?  I mean c'mon Claudia.  That's gotta be...I dunno, some kinda red flag."

She scoffs, flapping a dismissive hand. "Oh please, when the bullshit's that obvious I don't even think it counts. It’s not like you bought it anyway.  Besides, honesty is the backbone of a solid relationship, if you're just poking fun it's more like a bonus.  As long as he's not married and not a serial killer, who gives a shit?  You’re overthinking the shit outta this, hon.”

That’s...well that’s not wrong.  It’s honestly irritating how not wrong that is.

When you don’t give a response save for the idle sounds of plastic scratching on your takeout box, Claudia groans. “God are you really gonna make me talk you into getting yourself laid? Okay, if you wanna be rational about it, fine, here's some rational thought for you." She pops out her thumb, ticking off digits as she lists. "He's hot. He likes to eat pussy. He's a fuckin' sub, which - holy shit, girl. Holy actual fucking shit. Plus he's packing and he actually knows what to do with it.  Oh, and he bought you fuckin' breakfast!" She wiggles her fingers as she thrusts her hands out towards you. "Seven outta ten, babe! My god, if you don't fuck him I'll do it for you just so I don't have to eat another shitty continental breakfast."

You laugh, but there's a hot flush creeping up your face, and you have to stare out the window for a minute until it starts to wind back. It's almost successful, until you think of Whiskey again. This time, though, all you think of is him outlined in the door, looking back at you with his face too shaded to see.  And then your cheeks flare hot again, not with that lingering sense of want, but with a flighty kind of panic.

And just like that you pin it down, your stomach twisting on itself as you finally put words to that moment of apprehension.  Whiskey doesn't scare you.  His lines don't scare you.  The way he fucks you doesn't even scare you.  But that moment that he lingered does. It scares you because you think maybe what was going through his head is the same thing that's been going through yours, a fine little thread looped around every remembered pleasure: the worry that you're about to develop a taste for something that you'll never have the chance to get again.  

Maybe it's better to leave it.  To chalk it up as a fluke and not risk finding out that he'd feel just as good the second time as he did the first.  Cut it off now before that lingering taste turns into a full-blown craving.

Claudia sighs, closing her takeaway box.  "Look, hon.  I'm not trying to tell you what to do. It just sounds to me like you're overthinking this. You don't need to be fucking sensible all the goddamn time. So what if you're thinking with your pussy right now? You had fun. He was fun. You have the option to have more fun. You are entitled to have some fun. So, hey: fuck sensibility and have some fucking fun."

You nod. It's reflex at first, but slowly becomes more deliberate. More sure.  "Okay. Yeah. You're probably right."

"I am always right, thank-you-very-much," she corrects, and then promptly shrieks as you launch a slice of cucumber into her hair.

                                                           ⁂

The trick of it all, you remind yourself that evening as you cross the hotel lobby for the elevator, is not to think about it.  Because if you think about it, really think about it, you will find a way to talk yourself out it. Sensibility is as much of a hindrance as a help at times.  But you've decided now: the absolute last thing you want to be tonight is sensible. You've been bored out of your mind all week, and as much as you're loathe to admit it, Whiskey has been the only bright spot in the whole affair.  At least he's given you something to look forward to, even if it is just the prospect of getting railed until you forget your own name.  

You take the time to change when you make it to your room.  Grab yourself a short, but blisteringly hot shower, and conveniently forget your panties when you redress.  Eventually you make your way down to the bar with your heart almost strangling you with the way it's seemingly lodged itself in your throat.   Whiskey's nowhere to be seen, which isn't a complete surprise.  He always seemed to turn up a little late in the evening before.  Not wanting to deviate too far from your own habits, if only to make yourself a little easier to spot, you take your familiar place at the far end where you've been set up for so many nights in a row. You order your drink, make friends with the closest basket of pretzels, and you wait.

And wait...and wait.

Your eyes are half on the clock and half on the door, flicking back to that last at every sign of movement.  Despite the fact that you're practically nursing your drink, the bartender refills your glass twice over the course of the night. When he offers a third, you shake your head.  Your face feels like it's burning. The bartender nods and wanders away, either oblivious to the growing anger on your face or determined not to end up the recipient of it.

It's nearly midnight when you finally push yourself off the bar stool, throwing down enough bills to cover your tab and storming off.  He stood you up.  You cannot fucking believe it.  What's worse is you feel like you should believe it.  Should've expected it.  As if a man that strutted around like a preening rooster and fed you a bullshit James Bond story would have a streak of honesty.

You punch the elevator button hard enough to make your hand tingle, pushing your way through the doors as they open and hitting the button for your floor. The walls of the elevator are mirrored, and you duck your head, not wanting to know what your face looks like just now, twisted up in anger and more than a little shame. The doors hang for a moment before sliding closed.  At the last possible second a hand darts in, stopping them. Broad. Tanned. Tattooed. The man of the hour leans through the doors as they retreat, and gives you a grin.

"Room for one more?"

Your stomach does a back flip, blood rushing in so many directions you're not sure if you've got enough left to power a response. If this little scenario had played out even half an hour earlier, you might've laughed. Might've fallen back into that easy bitchy banter the two of you seemed so good at. Might've even kissed him. But not now.  Now you've built up too much steam, and every little ounce of anger – earned or not – that you'd had percolating for this man since you first laid eyes on him bursts out of your mouth in two words, laced with as much venom as you can muster.

"Fuck you."

You can practically hear the record scratch in his head.  The smile falls, eyebrows ratchet up so high you can't see them for the brim of his hat.  It's satisfying in an awful sort of way.  Like scratching an itch hard enough to draw blood.  Too late to take it back now, though.  You lash out at the elevator panel, punching the button marked CLOSE DOORS, and Whiskey side-steps neatly inside.

"All right," he says slowly.  "That is not exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"Yeah, well tough shit, cowboy," you all but spit, raking a hand through your hair. You keep your eyes down.  Forward.  Anywhere but on him.  It's hard, too many reflections.  Even the distorted shape of his  silhouette in the door makes your blood boil.

"I know I'm late," he starts, hands raised, and the low and placating tone of his voice hits you like lighter fluid on a match.

"You don't fucking say?"

His hands drop. "Can I at least explain myself?"

Laughing too loud and too sharp, you shrug, shoulders pulling up hard.  "Yeah, sure, why not? Let me guess, rough day at Spy HQ? Assassination appointment run over? Or were you just hiding behind the fucking dieffenbachia to see how long I'd stick around before I came to my fucking senses?" 

The shrill sound of your own voice almost makes you wince.  You're overreacting. It's not like you're unaware of it. But you're pissed off, and worse now, you've committed to being pissed off. Backing down now is damn near impossible, never mind actually apologizing.

Whiskey takes a step forward, his eyes gone all puppy dog again; wide and imploring under twisted brows. "Look, I don't blame you for thinkin' the worst. I know I left you waitin', and I apologize for that -"

You roll your eyes, mouth twisting into a smile that shows too much teeth to be kind. "Christ, y'know what, don't flatter yourself.  I like that bar.  The pretzels are nice and they don't water down the liquor.  I didn't show up for you."

"Oh horseshit," he snaps. He doesn't raise his voice, but there is a whip crack of impatience in it. "If you didn't want to see me tonight you wouldn't have turned up at all. You and I both know that."

Fuming, you jam your hand into your purse, fishing out his flask and tossing it at him hard enough that it hits him square in the chest. He catches it on the rebound.

"Here. You forgot this."

Whiskey turns it over in his hands, thumping the metal against his palm. "Right.  I see," he says slowly, slipping the flask into his pocket. Under that thick drawl, there's a twinge of something that might be disappointment. "Just came to do the decent thing and return a man's property."

"Yes." Part of you sinks, screaming in frustration.  But it's like you're a spectator now, just watching yourself sabotage the only thing that'd brought you a shred of joy all week just because your pride and temper won't allow any other option.

One hand falls to his hip, the other rubs idly across his mouth. He's scowling now, quite spectacularly at that, and for a second you think you've finally dealt enough of a blow to his pride to piss him off. Then he steps in close, jaw set. The way his eyes travel up and down you sends a flush through your body, and you're not sure if you want to slap him hard enough to knock the mustache off his face or kiss him until his lips bleed. His gaze lingers at your hip, your curves quite plainly displayed under the tight skirt. He reaches out. The back of his fingernails barely brush the fabric.

"Do you always make returns without any panties on?"

You try to swallow, but find your mouth has gone suddenly bone dry, your throat sticking with a sharp and painful click.  "Fuck off," you try to tell him, but it comes out a croak.

"You know what I think?" Whiskey continues, and the tone would nearly be conversational if it weren't for the way he's looking at you, eyes perfectly black and hungry under the shade of his hat.  "I don't think you're just mad because I'm late.  I think you're mad because I can get a rise outta you. Part of you kinda likes it. Enough to wanna come back for a little more of it. And you don't know what to do about that.  Bet you can't even decide if you wanna throttle me or ride me 'til you can't come anymore. Bit of both, maybe, huh?"

Oh fuck you very much, Mister Perceptive.  "Christ, you and your fucking ego-"

"Oh to hell with my fucking ego, and yours too." He leans in close enough that you can smell aftershave and a fainter, acrid smell that, if you weren't so fucking preoccupied, you might recognize as spent gunpowder. "If you want me to go, just fuckin' say it. But don't bullshit a bullshitter.  If you wanted rid of me that bad you would've tossed me out on my ass last night before I'd even finished coming."

Your jaw works, and you push yourself a little harder against the handrail just to keep from slapping him. How dare he-

How dare he what, exactly? Be right?  Again?

You clench your jaw, gripping the handrail on the wall tight enough that the corners dig into your fingers. Glare at him like you're trying to light him on fire. He doesn't flinch.

"What you did last night...that made for a hell of a first impression," he says slowly, and the low rasp of his voice almost curls your toes.  "One I don't expect I'm liable to forget this side of fuckin' doomsday. Shit, I don't even know your fucking name and I ain't been able to shake the thought of you all damn day.  Now you can believe that or not, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.  But the only thing I'm asking from you right now is to be fucking straight with me.  If you want me to go, you fucking tell me, and I'm gone.  But if you want me to stay, honeybee I swear I will make up for every second you had to wait."

"Fuck you, Whiskey," you breathe.  It's all you've got left, all you can even think to say, but it's too soft. It's too hard not to believe him when he's looking at you like that.  Even if he's still got your teeth on edge, ready to bite, the fire in your belly is sinking lower every second. And there's no way to mistake the low rasp of your voice for anger.

He leans in, hovering barely an inch away from you, and tips your chin up with his knuckle. "That ain't an answer, honeybee."

His lip curls into a smirk and for a second all you can think about is running your tongue out to follow the curve of it.

"You can punish me if you like," he offers in a low, darkly sweet voice. The fingers on your chin trace a path along your jaw, up to your ear, and down the side of your neck as he talks; a three-point constellation drawn in goosebumps. "Lord knows I deserve it. Tie me up again. Ride my tongue until you've had your fill and never lay a finger on me.  I don't mind a bit.  I'll probably come in my fucking jeans like a goddamn high school virgin while you do it, too."

Oh god. It's too hot. It's too hot and he's too close and it feels like there's no air left.  Those words took the last of it and left you with nothing. And then your lungs finally unlock, hitching in air so pitifully loud that for a second his eyes drop first to your mouth and then lower to watch the buttons strain on your blouse.

His tongue brushes up against the back of his bottom lip, a strange gesture, but one you can't drag your eyes away from.  And the bastard just keeps talking.  

"Then again, maybe the way you've been acting up you'd be more inclined for a little punishment yourself. I could take you upstairs. Turn you over my knee and put my hand to that pretty little ass until it blushes like a ripe summer peach. I'd bet you'd drip just as much and twice as sweet, too. I'd kill for a taste of you right now. Fuck, if you really want I could just hike that skirt up and fuck you right here and now.  I am a flexible man and I am willing to take you any way you'd see fit to let me. But only if you let me.  I ain't here to play bullshit games, and I will not take anything you don't want to give.  So I need you to tell me, honeybee.  Do you want this? Yes or no?"

Everything inside you burns and twists.  Fuck, you want that.  All of that.  And all you have to do to get it is unstick your stubborn, too-sharp tongue and admit that you want it. That even without the excuse of three shots of tequila on top of a few too many cocktails, you still want it.

You're burning up.  There's sweat on your palms.  It squeaks as you twist your hands over the railing.  He hasn't just turned the tables on you, he's flipped the whole fucking room and cornered you with it. And God help you, it's infuriating how much you like it.

"Hate you. So much."

"Hm." His hand falls away, and you miss the touch instantly. "So you keep sayin'. Decision time, honeybee. You pick or I'm picking for you and we're both gonna be disappointed in that result."

There is a long long beat where that threat hangs between you.  Any hope that he might just push forward and take you anyway – push you into the wall and fuck you ragged right here and now without another word – bleeds away as you stare him down, your wordless challenge going unanswered. His gaze is iron; hard and unyielding, and you know if you wait even one more second, this...whatever the hell this is, will be over. Permanently.

Swallowing the last of your pride like so much cheap liquor, you seize the front of his shirt, dragging him forward even as he starts to back away.

"Yes. Fucking goddamn it.  Yes, I want this."

"Yeah?" He leans in, nose brushing your cheek.  Somehow it's that little gesture that sets off a bomb's worth of butterflies in your stomach.

"Yes."

The heat of his hand is almost shocking as it glides up your thigh and underneath your skirt, his thumb stroking up and finding only bare skin. Whiskey grins. "Knew it."

You choke back a sigh.  "Smug bastard."

"Yes ma'am."  His thumb brushes up and down your slit idly, slow and considering.  He glances around, quirks an eyebrow, and offers: "Here?"

Following his glance, you spot the hunk of plastic mounted in the top corner of the elevator.  "Camera. Fuck."

"Sure enough," he drawls, still grinning.  "You want to give the boys 'n' girls in the security booth a show, or d'you want to go someplace a little more sensible?"

Sensible. God, If he'd chosen any other word, you might've agreed. Private. Safe. Anything but fucking sensible.  

"Fuck sensibility. Fuck security, too. Just shut up and fuck me."

He laughs through your kiss, the touch of his lips too gentle by miles.  The last thing you want right now is gentle. You don't fucking deserve gentleness after all that.  And so you rake your teeth across his bottom lip, roll your tongue against his. When you nip at his tongue, Whiskey breaks off, cupping your sex with a warm, calloused hand.

"You're gonna eat me alive, honeybee," he growls.  He parts you with a thick finger, drawing the pad of it from your entrance to your clit and back again. "Mm, I have been thinkin' about this all day," he murmurs before his finger sinks into you.

Sighing, you curl your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off to run your fingers through his hair and muss up that razor-clean side part. His hand works unhurried between your legs.  You rock against it, listening to the obscene smacking sound as he works you open.

"All that fuss and you're wet for me already, darlin'," Whiskey says wonderingly.

All you can do is groan, chasing the sensation of the heel of his hand pressing against your clit.  "Shut up and kiss me."

You tug at his hair, try to urge him forward, but he doesn't budge.  He sinks down to his knees instead, right hand never leaving the wet heat of your cunt.

"I'll kiss you, baby," he says, pushing up your skirt and lifting your right leg over his shoulder.  "Don't you worry."

And he kisses you: a warm, wet slide of lips and tongue where he's got you spread. Gasping, you grab the back of his head. He looks up at you, only the crinkles at the corner of his eyes proof of his smile, and his eyes slip closed like a man savoring his favorite meal.

"Jesus." The word comes out in a squeak as his mouth works on you, your throat tightening in an effort to keep quiet.  A second finger joins the first and you whimper, tightening reflexively against the stretch.  Christ those fingers are thick. Shuddering, you work your fingers in his hair and pull him closer, your eyes wandering up to the reflection in the far wall.  The view is mesmerizing: your back arched, skirt hiked up to your waist, with Whiskey's head buried in between your legs like a man trying to slake an ungodly thirst. The view on the left is even better.  From there you can watch his mouth work against you, catching a glimpse of his tongue, wet and shining as it slips between your folds. He sways forward on his knees like a charmed snake, a growing bulge straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans.

There's a gentle ding, and for a moment you're so scrambled you think maybe your phone's going off.  And then the elevator doors slide open. An older looking gent with a battered briefcase stands frozen on the other side, eyes wide as dinner plates as he takes in the same view you've been admiring in the mirrored walls of the elevator.  

For a single spaced-out second the only thing you can think is, Going down?, which makes you erupt into a fit of breathless, senseless giggles.

The newcomer's mouth hangs, flapping uselessly over words he can't quite formulate.  He might be trying to apologize for the intrusion or insist you repent and turn to Jesus.  You don't know and you don't care.

Whiskey looks up at him over the line of your thigh, lips glistening.  "Get the next one," he snarls, and punches the CLOSE DOORS button.

He plants a rough, sucking kiss at the top of your cleft as the doors close again, utterly unperturbed.  "Penthouse, darlin', if you please."

Oh he would be in the fucking penthouse, wouldn't he?  Panting, you fumble a hand out trying to find the button just as Whiskey slides in a third finger and you cry out, almost swiping every button in the center row by accident.

The elevator hums to life and begins to move.  The red light on the security camera flashes benignly and you stare at it for a long beat while Whiskey gets right back to work, moaning hungrily between your legs.  Someone's watching this.  The thought excites you more than it should, adding fuel to the already roaring fire Whiskey is so eagerly stoking with his tongue.  You roll your hips, swearing roundly.  It's not enough.  It's fucking glorious, but it's not enough.  You know what you need.

"Fuck me," you gasp.  "Goddamn it, Whiskey, gimme your cock."

He glances up at you through thick lashes, eyebrows raised.  "Is that what you want, honeybee?" he asks.

You bear down on his fingers hard as if to answer and he clenches right back, thumb and pinky giving him leverage against your pubic bone as he grips you tight, fingers stroking along your walls. It's only by virtue of the handrail and the support of his shoulder that you don't sink straight to the floor.  Christ that backfired.

You nod fervently, head spinning.

A roll of his shoulder unseats your leg, and he stands.  His left hand wraps around your throat, thumb against your jawline, and that's so fucking perfect you can't stop yourself from whimpering. In a flare of desperation you grasp his wrist, urging him to grip your neck just a little tighter. Chuckling, he brushes his lips against yours – soft and strangely tender – while he fucks you steadily with his fingers.

"Shoulda known you'd like that.  Well?  Cat got your tongue?  Come on, darlin', lemme hear it."

"Yes."

"Louder. Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Oh god-d-d-damn it!"

He chuckles darkly, fingers coaxing inside you.  "You can do it, honeybee.  I know you want it. I just need hear you say it."

You bare your teeth.  "I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl."  He grins down at you, wide and wolfish.  "Now: ask me nicely."

Oh he would, wouldn't he?

"B-bastard," you snarl, then begin to laugh.

"Oh come on now," he croons, eyes darting between your lips and your own heavy-lidded stare. "I'm sure you can get along without your pride for an hour or two. It ain't so bad.  And I promise I'll make it worth your while. C'mon."

You groan, grit your teeth, and hiss out: "Please."

He crooks his fingers and you gasp like you've been burned.  "'Please' what?"

"Please fuck me.  Please fuck me."

He slots your trembling thigh between his legs, pressing the clothed, solid length of his cock against you.  "With this?  Hm?"

"Fuck, yes."  You writhe, feel it twitch, and he rolls against you in response.  

"Come for me first, honeybee.  Then I'll fill you up good and proper. Cross my heart."

His fingers press into you harder, spreading gently as he draws them back. Your legs begin to shake so badly that he has to pin you to the wall to hold you up.  The rail digs into your back.  You'll bruise tomorrow, but you're not sure you've ever cared less in your life.  

"You gonna come, for me?" he asks, rutting a little more enthusiastically against you when he feels you begin to tense and flutter around his fingers.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you nod, feeling the drag of his lips on your cheek.  

"Uh-uh. Talk to me, darlin', I wanna hear it. I want you to tell me every single time you're gonna come, you understand me? Count them out.  Let's see just how many you got in you tonight."

"Oh you ass!"  You moan and laugh all in the same breath.  

"You like it," he says simply.  

He kisses you, warm and deep, and you bite his lip for the audacity.  "Don't stop.  Fuck, I'm close."

He turns your head, slides his hand around to cup the back of your neck. "Open your eyes, honeybee.  Watch yourself."

You try.  Everything's a blur; inside and out.  Fuzzy and disconnected and hot. Blinking to clear the fog, you can see your reflection caught between the wall and Whiskey's body. Your eyes are dazed, unfocused. His cheek is against yours, a look of utterly indecent hunger on his face, lips red and swollen where you've bitten him. He's pressed up against you too tightly to get a good view, but you can see his arm pinned between your bodies, and the flex of muscles working underneath his jacket.

There is, you note with a fuzzy sort of disconnect, a small, ragged hole in the arm of his jacket.

But before you can put any more thought to this discovery he presses his thumb down against your clit – no friction, only a firm, rolling pressure – and that's all you need. If it wasn't for the his body against yours, you'd buckle.  As it is, trapped between him and the wall, all you can do is quake and cry out, arms tightening around his shoulders as you come.

He hums indulgently, kissing your cheek.  "Count it out."

Panting, you pull hard on his hair until he groans.  "One."

"Good girl," he murmurs.  Slowly his hand withdraws, giving one last slow swirl over your folds before he sucks you greedily off his fingers.

There's the muffled sound of a zipper and you could almost laugh – finally! But then the elevator slows and stops, doors sliding open with a soft ding.  Whiskey glances sidelong at the open door, corner of his mouth pulling up in a half-cocked grin.  The disappointed whine you give as you hear him zip himself right back up is wholly involuntary.

"Well wouldn't you know it," he says, pulling away from you and stooping for his hat. It's all you can do not to whack him on the back of the head – or on the ass – as he turns away, wiggling your skirt back down over your hips instead.

He gives a ridiculous wink towards the security camera with his hat held to his chest. Your stomach gives a neat little flip as you look up at that blinking red light – god, you'd forgotten it was even there.  

"Sorry to blue-ball ya and run, fellas." He gets an arm around your waist, tugging you into the hall at an easy, languid pace, as if nothing had happened. As if your legs weren't still quivering, with the evidence of your orgasm running in sticky trails down the inside of your thighs.

"Betcha money, marbles, or chalk they'll be jerkin' off over that for weeks," he says jovially, pulling you to his hip when he feels you start to wobble. "C'mon. Let me get you in a bed before I say to hell with it all and fuck you out here on the goddamn floor."

Your knees tremble again; at least one part of you has full support of that particular idea. As the door opens you pull him back to your mouth, kissing him hard even as he steers you by the hips through the suite.  You barely see any of it. Recessed halogen lights.  The sparkle of painstakingly cleaned glass and marble.  Little else. A grunt escapes you as you fetch up hard against the wall and Whiskey crashes into you.  The sudden pressure against his groin leaves him winded, rocking forward against you with a shuddering groan.

"Tell me how you want it," he says, words mangled against your mouth. The salt-musk taste of you still clings to his tongue, sharp against some faint remnant of sweet mint.

One hand slips down, squeezing your breast through the material of your blouse.  The room spins giddily like a tilt-a-whirl, still riding the coattails of your last orgasm. "Hard," you breathe.  The skirt you chose is too fucking tight, and you have to reach down to drag it back up your thigh just to hook a leg around him.  "Don't you dare be gentle."

He chuckles as you press into him. "How hard is hard? I can be a little rough if you let me off the leash."

Frustrated, you slip your hands under his sports coat, nails biting into his shoulders through his dress shirt.  "Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yeah," he says, and his voice has reached that breathy, sonorous pitch that sends a hot-cold shiver rocketing down your spine.  "Yeah you do.  A little honesty would be appreciated tonight."

One good shove and his jacket slips to the floor.  "That's funny coming from Double-O-Cowpoke."

"Not my fault you don't believe me."  It's pitched like a joke, light and breezy, but there's something in his eyes.  Sharp and peculiar and gone almost before you can be sure it was really there, but makes your stomach clench with a sudden surety that the next words out of his mouth are completely genuine.  "I ain't lied to you yet, honeybee."

And that almost brings you to a halt.  Your hands splay out on his shoulders, pushing back to look at him more clearly.  If that's true. If that's true...oh god, why would he have told you?

The question is halfway to your lips before he surges his way forward again, his mouth crashing into yours and kissing you hard and urgent and bruising. A faint sound of protest rises in your throat and you push back a little, not wanting him to stop but wanting him to wait because...because....

And the rest of that thought flutters away. He doesn't stop kissing you.  He just doesn't stop.  And he's moaning as his tongue licks into your mouth and his teeth scrape over your lips like it's the most decadent thing in the world.  You grasp at his face, wrists caging in his neck, feeling his pulse race along next to your at such a frantic speed it's almost alarming.  Your last little shred of rational thought all but begs you to push him back a little harder, to make him look at you and ask him what's wrong...and then it just flutters away because God this is what you want.  This.  This, this, this.

"You want it hard?" he rasps into your mouth, rutting up against you hard enough to drive you back into the wall.

Breathless, you nod.  Work your fingers through the mess you've made of his hair. "Ruined you last night, didn't I?"  You tighten your grip, use your knuckles for leverage and pull.

Whiskey groans, slipping his hands under the bunched hem of your skirt to grip your ass and grind you down against him.  "Goddamn right you did, honeybee."

"So ruin me back."  The thick denim that covers his fly is rough, but you rub against it all the same, shuddering at the coarseness against your tender skin.  "Fair is fair.  Right?"

His eyes slip closed and he buries his face against your neck for a moment, breathing unsteady.  "Jesus, girl, you're gonna soak straight through my jeans," he mutters. "All right, honeybee.  All right.  I only got one rule.  If I do anything you don't want, you tell me. 'Cause I ain't stopping unless you do. Not tonight. Got it?"

"Whiskey-"

He gets a grip on your chin, levels your eyes on his.  "You tell me 'no' or you tell me 'stop.'  Got it?"

"Yes." Patience exhausted, you wrench his belt open. "Now come on."

Buttons patter to the floor as he tears open your blouse.  And that's good. That's fair. And what's even better is the rough way he puts his hands on you, yanking your bra down to knead and squeeze your bare breasts.  When you finally free his cock there's only a brief moment to savor the warm, solid length in your grip before his fingers clamp down on your nipples.  The sensation is so sharp and bright and sudden that you yelp, arching up on your tip-toes.

"Hands off, honeybee," he warns.

Whimpering, you flatten your hands against the wall.

"Too much?" he asks softly, that funny little furrow deepening between his eyebrows.

A groaning laugh slips out of you, and you arch your back, pushing your breasts against his hands.  "Not enough."

"Fuck, ain't you just the sweetest, dirtiest thing." He twists and you cry out, hips bucking forward.  His cock drags against your hip and you chase it, trying to pin it between you.

"Oh, c'mon.  You promised," you whine.

"Oh I'm gonna keep my promise, baby, don't you fret. I want you just as fucked-out as you had me. Wanna see you so goddamn cock dumb your eyes roll back. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, too, haven't you?"

The wall warms under your hands as you fight not to push back more.  And maybe that's what does it.  A little mental-short circuit.  Because God knows you haven't been able to think of a single fucking thing other than this.  But the denial is on your lips so fast it must be involuntary, a reflexive need to find his buttons and push: "You wish."  

Whiskey raises an eyebrow, lip curling.  For a second he's amused, seeing the game you want to play. And then it's like a switch flips. Suddenly this isn't the man who'd begged for the privilege of fucking you last night. This isn't even the man who'd put his grateful mouth to your cunt in the elevator. This is the man he'd pretended to be right up until you got his hands tied. The cowboy get up wasn't the costume – this is. This smile. This infuriating swagger.  

"Oh, really?" he says, and for the first time you realize just how much that drawl had begun to soften around you, because now that dial's ramped right back up to 11.  "You turn up tonight without any goddamn panties on, ride my fingers like a coin-op pony, beggin' to get fucked all the while, and then you try and tell me you ain't been thinkin' about me?  I felt how hard you came. How fucking wet you were."  His hand darts between your legs as quick a snake-strike, fingers carding through your folds. "Are.  Ain't no face left to save, darlin'."

He's in your space, radiating heat, his fingers stroking against your swollen sex, stoking your own fire all over again. But the fire those words kindle burns a little quicker and a little hotter. Without a second thought you strike out, palm tingling as it finds its target against his cheek.

For a moment Whiskey doesn't even seem to breathe. He just stands there leaning heavy against you with his eyes closed and his nostrils flaring. Redness blooms against his cheek.  When his eyes open again, the way they bore into you, glittering and eager takes your own breath away.

He hums, that low, pleased sound.  But now it slips lower and lower into a breathy rumble that lances straight through you.  "Do it again."

Swallowing hard, you slap him again.  Harder this time.  For a moment the only reaction he gives is the way his cock bobs sharply, slapping against your thigh.

Then he growls, seizing the back of your neck and crushing you to him.  You crane up, half expecting a kiss, but his thumb snags the corner of your mouth.  He drags it open until your jaw hangs, tilting your head back.  A choked sound that's a little too plaintive to be a protest slips from your open mouth a second before Whiskey spits into it.

"Swallow."

You do, sucking hard on his thumb for good measure.

"You nasty little thing," Whiskey says, his voice slow and dark as molasses. His eyes glaze over a little as he works the ball of his thumb against your tongue, watching the way your lips purse around it. "Maybe you are the one that needs the punishin'."

He leans against you, breathing hard as he considers this thought. You frown a little, catching his thumb with your teeth, hoping he'll get the hint and give you something better to put in your mouth. But then his grip loosens, one hand disappearing behind you. Hints, it appears, are completely off the table tonight.

"In," he growls, throwing open the bedroom door. "Now."

Whiskey leads you inside, hitting the lights with his elbow.  The room is furnished in that same drab but sparkling minimal style, an impressively large bed swallowing up the majority of the space.  One wall is nothing but windows behind drawn shades, a sliding door leading out to a small, isolated balcony.

He steers you directly to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you across his lap to straddle his knee.  You let out an indignant little yelp at the treatment, but then he shifts his leg under you and the indignance crumbles. It presses against your mound just right, urging you open, and you grind down with a gasp, trying to find a little relief.

Whiskey tuts.  "Oh now look at that. Try to tell me you ain't been thinkin' about takin' my dick and then rub on me like a goddamn cat in heat."  

There's the sound of a zipper – not his this time, but your own – and then a little tickle at your hip as he undoes the skirt and wrestles it down your legs. He pushes your blouse up, bunching the material up around your shoulder blades.  For a second you think he means to pull it off, but then he twists the fabric around his hand.  The garment draws up tight, leaving your arms, still in the sleeves, pinned to your sides.  

You moan a little when you feel his hand slide across your ass. He bends over you, and you feel the wet heat of his mouth against your ass cheek.  A sweet, languid swirl of his tongue before he bites down.  You jerk hard enough that your clit drags against the rough weave of his jeans and you cry out, the sound muted by the bedspread.

The pressure of his knee aches beautifully against your cunt, your breathing so shallow and quick it makes you lightheaded.  You know what's coming, and you know what you asked for.  The last thing you wanted was to be sensible.  And this – well this might be the least sensible thing you've ever done.  

You buck your hips up sharply. Searching for his hand.  "Do it."

The first strikes are quick and brisk.  They tingle, warming your skin, but don't hurt. Not yet.  This is just a tease of the real thing.  A warm up. The tips of his fingers trace the first reddening outline of his hand against your skin, a match for the not-yet faded print against his cheek.  Crooning, he kneads your buttocks, spreading them apart, making the slick folds of your pussy slide against each other.

"Sweet Jesus will you look at that.  Open that up, baby.  Lemme see just how fuckin' wet that gorgeous little pussy is."

You gasp, grinding down again, and then first real slap lands across your ass, unexpected and jarring.  The sting is enough to make your eyes water, but the impact drives you forward, almost encouraging your hips to grind into him.  A second strike lands on the other cheek, then back to the first, alternating each time.  You rock with it, caught between the hot stinging slap of skin on skin and the building heat between your legs.

"This what you wanted?"  Crack.

"Fuck!"

"Is it?" he demands.  His hand descends again.  Crack.

"Yes!" You kick out, struggling not because you want to, but because you have to. And it only makes it worse. Or better, or – God, you don't even know now. It's more. It's just more. His knee digs in harder and your poor neglected cunt throbs with a misplaced ache and you swear you have never needed to feel yourself filled up more than you do right now.

"You gonna behave?" Crack. "You gonna stop lyin' to me now?"  CRACK.

"Yes!" The word leaves you in a shuddering sob, thighs clamping down around Whiskey's leg.  One more, God help you, one more and you'll tip over, you'll come all over his knee, you're so close.

And then he stops, rubbing and kneading the hot flushed skin, and you whine in desperate frustration as your orgasm begins to retreat.

"Goddamn. Prettier than a Georgia peach," Whiskey says thickly. His hand strays, slips down between your cheeks and presses against the splayed lips of your pussy. You writhe under the sudden attention, feeling the tips of his fingers slide around your clit. "And damned if you don't drip twice as sweet."

"Please." Warmth trickles from the corner of your eyes, blooming against the bedspread.

The swirl of his hand is lazy, almost soothing but for the way it keeps you so frighteningly close to the edge. "Truth first, honeybee. C'mon. You know what I wanna hear."

"Ye-yes," you mutter.  "Goddamn it yes.  I've been thinking about fucking you all day.  All goddamned day...God, Jesus, fuck, and then you didn't show. Thought you'd ditched me.  Made me want - want it and then ditch me."

You bury your face in the quilt. It's a fucking cop out and you know it. You don't just want it.  You want him.  Fuck, what is happening?

Again you feel his mouth against your ass cheek, open and wet, but this time his tongue is almost cool by comparison. "There now. I didn't ditch you, baby. Wouldn't fuckin' dream of it."  His voice is low now, placating, nearly apologetic. And then his fingers are slipping inside you again, stroking and curling. "I'm right here here, baby. Right here. Just a little late, is all."

You whine, trying to wriggle back to drive him in deeper. Those thick fingers are like fucking magic but you need more than they can provide. Desperate now, you clutch your fingers back towards him, find his shirttail and tug at it. "Jack. Please."

It doesn't even register to you that you've called him by his name – God, you didn't even think you remembered his name – until the fingers inside you still. If it wasn't for the hammering of your heart in your ears you might've heard his breath catch.

Slowly he twists his fingers inside you, pressing down until you shudder. "What is it, honeybee?" he mutters. The hoarseness in his voice is familiar. You wish you could see his face. "Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck me.  Please.  I waited all fucking night."

He rolls you off his lap, leaving you dangling half off the bed and folds over you, cock nestled against the heat of your reddened ass. There's a sticky slide to it; you're not the only one that's wet.

"Hand to God, baby, I'll make it worth every minute. On my fuckin' life." The pained edge in his voice sets the room spinning, and for one mad moment you find yourself trying to grab onto the bedspread to keep from rolling away. Whiskey leaves a kiss against the back of your neck before he draws back, the hand fisted in your shirt tugging you along just a bit.

There's a long, wavering moment when his touch leaves you entirely and you almost protest before you hear him frantically shedding his clothes behind you. Then his hands return, his left winding back into your shirt, his right warm and strong against your back. The blunt, weeping head of his cock nudges between the swollen lips of your pussy. He stays there for an infuriatingly long moment, enough that you cry out your frustration into the bedclothes.  

And then he finally makes good on his promise.

You go up on your toes, legs straining as he breaches you. After all the hours you spent thinking about it, all the hours you waited, it's bliss. But the pure, unadulterated stretch of it laces that bliss with a white-hot line of fire that only serves to make it all the more urgent. Maybe it's the angle, bent in half with your ass up and your legs closed. Maybe it's just how overwrought you are already. Maybe...fuck, you don't know, maybe somehow he's even harder than the night before.  All you do know is that he feels so big you can't hardly stand it. It's so much, bridging the gap between pleasure and pain until it's just an overwhelming sense of pressure and fullness that has you clenching and fluttering around him. As if your body can't make up its mind if it wants to expel the intrusion or welcome it deeper.

He has no right to feel this good. None. But goddamn it you're so glad he does.

"Fuck," he mutters shakily, fingers biting into your hip. "This what you wanted, honeybee? Huh? This what you been waiting for?"

You can't find the air to give him an answer.  Whiskey's still moving forward, you're not even sure how. Christ how much more of him is there? He leans forward, pushing you into the mattress, pushing down into you until you start to shake, until he hits that buried junction inside you that sends a flare of heat rocketing clear down to your toes and your stalled orgasm rears up again so sudden and so close that it's startling.

Every muscle in your body tenses, straining. The whine that breaks out of your gaping mouth is pitiful. "Shit, oh shit, Jesus fuck, Jesus fuck-fuck-fuck-"

He feels it. He must. There's no way he can't. "Oh fuck, that's it honeybee," he croons, working his free hand under you to circle your clit as he sinks that last broad inch into you. "Come on. Come all fuckin' over me."

For a second everything shorts out, all senses lost in a white-out. The only tenuous connection you have to your body lies in the grounding pressure of his cock inside you and the faint but rapid fluttering of his pulse in it. And then you're slamming back to yourself with a ragged cry, blood roaring in your ears and coming so hard that you nearly buck off of him entirely. Your arms flex, bend, bunched cloth digging deeply into your skin until you feel rather than hear the seams rip. And then the tightness is gone, Whiskey's hand unwinding immediately from your shirt to stroke up and down your back.

There's a lump in your throat when you finally find enough air to speak: "T-t-two."

Whiskey groans. "Beautiful.  Fuck, you shake so pretty when you come for me. I could watch you do that all night. Might just, at that."  He drags the torn wreck of your blouse off you, popping the clasp on your bra and bending to place an open, humid kiss in the valley along your spine.

He rocks forward and back, one hand clamped into soft flesh at your hip, humming tunelessly. "Been wantin' to bury myself back in this sweet pussy from the minute I woke up.  Ain't been able to think of nothin' else. Just this," he says, drawing back slowly before burying himself to the hilt and rolling his hips against you.

You clamp your teeth down on your lip, fighting the haze. It's hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. But he's rolling into you slow, far too fucking slow.  And that isn't what you need. You try to push yourself up on your elbows, but he thrusts forward, a little more force in it this time, and your arms give out.  

"Ha-harder," you pant, voice thick and muffled by the quilt. You turn your head, claw the hair out of your face. "F-fuck me harder, god-d-d-damn it. Make me fuckin' feel it tomorrow. Big-dicked b-bastard, oh my God, don't you stop."

He breathes out a laugh, folding over your back. The pressure against your tender ass stings like hell, and you hitch in a hissing gasp as Whiskey's mouth finds your cheek. He kisses you, or does his best to. The angle is strange and your face is half-smashed against the bed, but his mouth slants over the side of yours, tongue dragging against your lips until you open for him, letting him lick against the sharp points of your teeth.  

"Careful what you wish for, honeybee," he whispers, grinding forward in a maddening circle. "Words like that will get you in a whole mess of trouble."

The air leaves you in a whooping rush as he stands, dragging you up against his chest, your back bowing to try and keep the searing length of him pressed where you need it. And then – ah god – his hand is around your throat and his teeth are sinking into your shoulder, and you're suddenly glad he can't see the way your eyes flutter and roll back.  

Not that he even needs to see it, because just then Whiskey groans into your skin as a rush of wetness courses down his cock.

"Fuck, is it that good, baby? Hm?" His voice quavers as his body impacts yours like a sledgehammer. "My dick finding all the sweet spots in that pretty little pussy for you?"

You grapple at him, find where he clings to you and grip his hands, inadvertently encouraging him to press his hand just a little harder against your throat. And there goes the room again, looping and floating as he starts to move, really move, driving forward harder and harder. You stumble, going up on your toes, some choked and desperate noise caught in your throat somewhere under his hand. Sparks pop behind your eyes, faint and wavering like fireworks reflected on choppy waters. And then the pressure eases, air rushing into your lungs once again. The fire in your belly flares up at it like a backdraft.  

"M-more," you grate out. "Oh f-fucking God please more.  D-don't...d-d-don't-"

"Don't you worry, baby.  Ain't gonna stop," he mutters harshly against your ear.  "I'll give you all you want. Ain't stopping 'til you tell me to stop."

You shake your head, or at least try to, the movement restricted by his hand. "N-no. Never. Fuck, never-never stop. Right there f-fuck-"

Whiskey growls out something low and broken and unintelligible as you clamp down on him, your body chasing that bright, blazing heat whether you want it to or not.

"Oh fuck, are you comin' again for me already, angel? Shit, you are, aren't you? Got yourself all riled up today and now you just can't stop. C'mon then, baby. Come on my dick. You feel like fuckin' heaven when you come. Pussy's so good it oughtta be fuckin' blasphemy. C'mon, honeybee, do it for me, come like you fuckin' mean it-"

Before you can breathe a word it hits you and it hits you hard, muscles seizing up so tight it's like they're trying to wring the pleasure out of you. You ride through maybe three or four near-blinding shocks of it and then your knees, traitorous things, finally give out underneath you. The only thing that keeps you up is Whiskey's arms wrapped tight around you, clutching you to him, suspending you on his dick as it grinds up brutally against your g-spot.

"Got you, honeybee," he grunts, rhythm never faltering. "I got you.  Keep comin' for me, baby, keep comin'."

And god help you, you are. You're still quivering, still coming, and then his hand falls away from your neck to cup against your sex, palm flat against the rigid little knot of your clit. He doesn't even rub, it's just a heat and a pressure and it's like your whole body stutters upward, launching towards a second, higher peak. Whiskey lets out a broken groan against your neck as you bear down on him so hard it nearly hurts and you wail at the unexpected, overwhelming force of it.

Everything spins off and away in the aftermath, senses blown out like a bad circuit. Sounds are swallowed up in a high, persistent ringing. You haven't got the strength to force your eyes back open. There's a shift and a feeling of soft cloth beneath you and when the haze starts to lift you find you're on your knees on the bed, shoulders down and ass up with Whiskey draped over your back. He murmurs things against your cheek, your ear, your neck.  You can't hear a word of it over the ringing in your ears.

You turn your head, knocking your forehead against his by accident. "Thr- I- f-four?"  Your voice jumps in your throat, but you can't quite make it steadier. "I...I don't-"

"Honeybee," he drawls, his cock giving a hard, desperate twitch inside you. He grins at you indulgently, gathering your hair up in one broad hand and pulling. "Good girl."

A shudder goes through you as you realize he's still fucking you. Deep, swift strokes that send tingles sparking through you. He drags his cock out of you and drives it back in, pulling it over your blazingly sensitive nerve endings like a bow over violin strings. Like it's a privilege to do it. Like it'd be a fucking crime to stop.

He drags two more orgasms out of you like this. Shuddering, slow-building things that overtake you like flood waters, rising up with an aching, consuming crawl unmindful of the pounding pace Whiskey holds to like a clockwork battering ram. It's only when you gasp out a broken cry of "S-sih-s-six!" that Whiskey's hips finally begin to falter, stuttering and slowing at the feeling of your overworked pussy milking his cock again. His grip on you tightens as he tries to steady himself, tries to hold on, groaning his own restrained pleasure through gritted teeth.

"Tight - fuck!  Goddamn it girl you get so fucking tight when you come. So fuckin' wet. Sweet Jesus. I don't know how m-much more of that I can fuckin' take."

"God, fuck, do it, just do it," you whine, reaching back for him with hands that can't stop shaking. "C'mon Jack."

He laughs at that, but it's a little frayed and frantic at the edges. He brushes the hair out of your face, working his fingers into it and giving it a tug. "I – ungh! Oh s-shit – I got... your p-permission this time, honeybee?"

You hum, nodding, and hitch in a breath as he grinds in particularly deep. "Please."

His rhythm falters again, hips canting suddenly at a hard angle. "W-where? Fuck, fuck, where do you want me, baby? Hurry."

"In-inside. Inside me. 'S what you wanted last night?  Right?"

Whiskey makes a broken sound, lurching against you. "Y-yeah. Oh shit, yes. Jesus fucking Christ, honeybee."

Growling, he flips you over and slides in deep, pushing your knees up almost to your shoulders and staring raptly down at your face even as his own contorts. The length of him inside you stiffens even more, pushing in so deep his hipbones grind painfully against your own.

And then he breaks with a cry, his whole body locking up with the force of his climax.  His head drops between your breasts and his back arches high, fists punching deep divots into the mattress on either side of you. He rocks through it, jerking at every pulse and spasm, and you can't help but shiver at the warmth that pools inside you as he comes.

"Fuck, fuck. Nngh, ho-holy shit." He almost says more, but another tremor wracks his body and it chokes off into a broken mess of Spanish - "¿Que chingas me estás haciendo a mi mujer?"

Winded and boneless, you scratch your nails weakly across his scalp, working your fingers down his neck to his shoulders.  "Better be a compliment."

"You have no idea," he pants open-mouthed against your skin.  Instead of elaborating he just eases himself out of you and crawls his way down, trailing his mouth over your skin until he's settled between your legs, staring at whatever disaster he's made of you and groaning softly in appreciation.

Take a picture, you almost say, it'll last longer. But before you can work up the air and energy to put breath to the quip he's drawing his tongue against you, cleaning up the mess he's made with a desperate, greedy reverence that sets your knees trembling on either side of his head.

Whimpering, you clamp your lower lip in your teeth, shuddering up against the warm heat of Whiskey's mouth.  "Careful," you warn.  "Oh, G-God, careful."

The only answer you get is a low moan and the feeling of his fingers sinking diligently back into your cunt, coaxing out the trickling remnants of his orgasm.

A high, lazy heat begins to build again, over-sensitivity easing back into something warm and sweet and giddily aching.  Your hands cradle the back of Whiskey's head, carding through his sweat-soaked hair as he licks his own come out of you. It's not a thing you've ever really given much thought before – bodily fluids were always more an incidental part of sex for you than anything else – and you're not sure if he's enjoying the act itself or just the strange submissive edge of it.  Curiosity gets the better of you and you glance down at him, expecting to see him staring intently up at you over the rise of your mons, gloating over the state he's put you in.  Fuck, he's made you come so many times you're sure he'll never let you forget it.

Only he isn't.  His eyes are closed, face lax with a blissful intoxication as he tastes himself inside you, holding your thighs up and apart to let him work his tongue and fingers in deeper.  The sight of him so clearly lost in the moment, not goading or gloating, just rapturously gone is maybe the single most erotic thing you've seen in your whole life. And that sweet, lazy heat suddenly licks up to a blaze.

The sudden clench you give is impossible to miss from Whiskey's vantage point, and he groans against you.  "One more, honeybee," he almost pleads, breaking away from you with a sucking pop just long enough to gasp air.  "You can gimme one more, can't you? I know you can. C'mon baby. Lucky seven."

He lowers his head once more with a decadent hum and you throw yours back as he sets to more deliberate work, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.  

"God, you greedy b-bastard," you rasp out.  The stimulation to your worn nerves leaves you quaking, wriggling underneath him.  You're not sure you can stand another one, but a deep, hungry part of you is desperate to find out.  

He growls at that, more in agreement than in offense, and when your hands scrabble at his he parries them without even glancing up, seizing your wrists and yanking you down even tighter against his mouth.

You nearly kick him in the ribs when you come.  It's not your fault. Honestly it's his for working you up to this point.  To this high, nervous overload that's barely left you any control over your body.  It doesn't seem to faze him, though.  Your heel glances off his side as your shaking legs lock around his back and he just keeps going, like he hasn't even noticed, like he isn't even here.  Like the world has spun down smaller and smaller and the only thing left is his mouth and your cunt and leaving that would mean the end of everything.

But it's too much.  Goddamn it, it's too much.

You sob, wrench your hands out of his grip and push at his head. "S-s-seven.  Sev-seven.  F-f-fuck, Jack.  No more, n-no more, please, stop, I can't, I can't– "

He's pulling away before you even finish, pressing one last biting kiss against your thigh before crawling shakily over you to put his mouth to yours with a surprising gentleness. The taste on his lips is heady, musky and sharp. His arms tremble at the strain of keeping himself from slumping over on top of you, gasping raggedly between each kiss like they’re just as necessary as air.

For the longest time you can’t even move, you’re far too wrung out and exhausted to even try.  All you can do is lie underneath him and do your best to remember how to breathe between slow, lazy kisses.  Eventually you work up enough breath to speak. "'M sorry," you whisper hoarsely.

Whiskey shakes his head, trying to focus his eyes.  "What for?"

"'Two minutes and a cigarette.'" You bring up a hand, patting his cheek with an awkward bonk. "I stand corrected"

A look of comical confusion takes over his face, brows knitting together, until he finally remembers the jab you'd made after you'd tied him up the night before. "Shit," is all he says before he dissolves into giddy laughter.  His arms finally give out on him and he rolls to keep from toppling onto you.  

You roll with him, tucking your head into his shoulder and giggling. It aches. The muscles in your abdomen so overworked that even laughing hurts, but somehow that just makes it funnier.

You’ve nearly composed yourselves when Whiskey tries to prop himself up on an elbow that immediately slides out from under him and almost smacks you in the head, and that just sets you both off all over again.  Giving up entirely, you just lay there, shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing like a couple of punch-drunk loons.

"You hungry, honeybee?” Whiskey asks breathlessly when he’s got himself back under some semblance of control. “I could eat a goddamn horse."

Now that he mentions it you realize just how long ago lunch was, and your appetite, which had so far taken a backseat to both your temper and libido, roars back to life. "God yeah, actually.  'M fuckin' starving."

So for the second time today, you get room service on Whiskey's dime. Or his employer’s dime, he insists.  You're not sure if that's better or worse.  It's a little ridiculous.  Even more so when you think to look for a clock and realize just how late it is, but you're absolutely famished and the second he's on the phone asking in a pleasantly fuck-drunk voice for a couple hamburgers and french fries you're stomach's growling so insistently you're almost certain the staff on the other end of the line heard it.

He's chuckling as he hangs up the phone, draping over you to nuzzle into your neck.  For the first time you notice just how much his mustache tickles, and you squirm under him, giggling all over again.

"Love me a woman with an appetite," he mumbles, nipping playfully at you.

"God, what the fuck are we doing?" you stutter out through your giggles.  It's not meant to be a real question. You’re practically a space cadet right now, and you can’t remember the last time you were this giddy after sex. But Whiskey shifts a little, pulling back to look down at you, and you can't quite parse the look on his face. "Never had a one-night-stand like this before.”

"Hm." He drops his head a bit, tapping an idle finger against your collarbone. "Think the repeat offense kinda cancels out the one-night-stand idea, honeybee."

"You didn't strike me as the repeating kind."

"Mm. Didn't strike you as the kind who could hold his dick up for longer'n a minute, either.  So I'll try not to take offense at your continued misjudgment of my character."  His eyes wander away from yours, pulling up his well-worn crooked smile with some degree of effort. "But if you're looking for a polite way to tell this old man you've had your fill, there ain't no need to beat around the bush about it."

You might've appreciated the easy out once.  After tonight, though, you're almost offended at it. You're not in the habit of begging for things you only have a mind to dispose of. A little of that flighty panic starts to take hold, and you tamp it down. Fun. This is just for fun. Even if you do want a little more. Fuck, don’t start overthinking it now.

"Is that what you want?" you ask, and it's only the curiosity in your voice that keeps it from sharpening into an accusation.

Whiskey shakes his head, a bit of incredulity in his eyes. "What I want...shit, what I want is to get me somethin' nice an' artery-clogging to eat and then get some fuckin' sleep. Preferably next to the woman who has fucked me ragged two nights running, if she happens to be amenable to that kind of thing. That's as far as my wants go right this second."

The deflection is so clumsy it’s almost funny. “Chickenshit,” you mutter.

Whiskey blinks down at you, shocked for a moment before you give him a teasing smile. “Fuckin’ comedian,” Whiskey says, snorting laughter.  “Ain’t no softening that tongue of yours, is there?”

“You never know.” You shift a little, heart hammering as you consider your next words. "How much longer are you going to be here?"

The crooked smile slips, becoming softer.  "Well.  That sorta depends on you, honeybee.  My work's all wrapped up.  But if you're gonna be around a bit longer and are lookin' for a bit of company I might be convinced to stay a bit longer."

You feel the smile creep up on your face before you can stop it.  "I wouldn’t mind a little continued reprieve from corporate hell. Under one condition," you insist, waving a finger at him.

Schooling his face into a parody of gravitas, he nods expectantly. Proceed.

"I need to know something first.  Some things. Plural."

He cocks an eyebrow.  "How many is plural?"

You consider for a second, squinting.  "Three."

"All right," he says, resting his chin against your shoulder.  "Fire away."

You pop out your thumb.  "Are you a serial killer?"

He stares at you for a long, silent beat before his eyes slip closed and he shakes his head, his chest hitching with stifled laughter. "No, honeybee, I am not now nor have I ever been a serial killer."

You nod, grinning. "Okay, one down.” You pop out your pointer finger. “Are you married?"

The levity bleeds out of his face with a swiftness that makes you regret the question instantly, sure he's about to drop a bombshell directly on your head that's going to leave you hating him and yourself.  But he shakes his head, holds up his ringless left hand as if in proof, as though nobody having an affair would've ever thought to slip a ring off beforehand.  But then, very quietly, he adds: "Was. But not for a long time."

You nod dumbly, mutter, "Okay.”

For a second you wonder if you should apologize – you’ve clearly tripped on something raw by accident – but then he's poking you in the ribs and drawing in a sharp breath.  "And number three?"

A little grateful, you pop out your middle finger ask your last question: "What do you do?  What do you really do?"

The corner of his mouth gives a twitch.  "Shit, is that all?  Well.  Officially, I'm a businessman.  I own a sizable amount of shares in the Statesman distillery company. Which, incidentally, is where that fine stock of bourbon whiskey came from," he adds.

You lean back, eyeing him carefully.  You don't think he's lying.  And yet....

Your fingers find the catch of a scar against his ribs.  "You're scarred to shit for a liquor tycoon, cowboy."

The twitch turns into a grin.  "I have been known to get a little rough-and-tumble once in a while."

"I don't know if I believe that story any more than I did the James Bond bullshit."

Whiskey huffs a laugh.  His jeans are in a puddle at the end of the bed and he drags them up, pulling out a thick leather wallet out of the back pocket.  From one of the compartments he pulls a business card embossed in gold and black and hands it to you.  

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, Statesman Distillery, Kentucky.

You blink at it, giggling a little.  "Jesus Christ that is actually your name?"

"More or less.  Been Anglicized for flavor, among other things."

"What was it before?"

There's an odd sharpness in his eyes when he looks at you, a shrewdness you'd never have expected from the costume cowboy you'd met down in the bar.  For a moment you're sure that not only is he not going to answer, but that you've overstepped a line you weren't even aware existed.

"That's four questions," he says, "not three."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," you add with a tilt of your head.

The corner of his mouth curls slightly, and the sharpness fades.  "Well now, how can I resist that a bargain like that?" He pauses a moment, as if reconsidering, then adds: "It was Joaquin."

"Joaquin?"

"Mm." He nods. There's only a moment of quiet before he tilts his hips to the side, jostling you. "C'mon, darlin. A deal's a deal."

You roll your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. And you tell him your name.  He repeats it back, and you don't need to see his face to know he's smiling.

"Pleasure to meet you," he says.  "Literally."

"Jackass."

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: First Date

A/n: this was such a cute idea! i hope you like it! (not thoroughly edited sry i cant spell and i type fast)

Requested by: @waningmoonbin​ ( thank you bb) feel free to request again!)

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ 

Bangchan:

Chan had been good friends with you for a very long time. You were quite honestly the nervous one when the night of your date finally came around. It was Chan. How could you not be nervous? You were still in utter shock he had asked you out in the first place. 

“Okay. It’s just Chan. It’s just Chan. Oh who am I kidding....it’s Chan.” You whispered to yourself. Your eyes raked over your outfit in the mirror. Before you could second guess yourself someone knocked on your door. You practically ran through your apartment. “Hi,” You said trying not to sound breathless.

“You look gorgeous,” Chan said leaning over and kissing your cheek. He left you no time to marvel at his actions because his hand enveloped yours and he led you out into the city. “I found this little restaurant the other day. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted to bring you here.” 

You smiled seeing the little hole in the wall restaurant. It was dimly lit and very aesthetically pleasing to look at. Chan was a gentleman and pulled out your chair for you, his hand brushing over your shoulder as he rounded the table to his seat.

The two of you talked about literally everything, sharing tender looks from across the table. His laugh was probably the loudest in the small restaurant but neither of you cared. You loved making him laugh. He instantly made your nerves disappear. 

When the waiter placed the check on your table you immediately reached for it only to have Chan swat your hand away. “No. A lady does not pay on a date.” 

“Chan I can pick up the check I don’t mind.”

“No, let me pay, baby.” You blushed at the pet name and instantly let go of the check, Chan giving you a knowing smile. “Well...that’s a trick I’ll have to remember,” he muttered under his breath with the biggest grin, exposing his dimples. After he paid, Chan walked you to your door and left you with a kiss on the cheek, promising to take you out again very soon.

Minho:

Since both you and Minho had very busy schedules you decided to meet up at a cafe on a Sunday morning. Unfortunately, it was raining cats and dogs the morning you were planned to meet up. Throwing on a huge coat and pulling out your umbrella you ran to the nearby cafe and waited for Minho.

The warm air of the coffeehouse greeted you as found a booth open by the window. You watched the rain fall down onto the street as you waited for your date. “Are you ready to order?” A barista asked coming over.

“Uhh...no I’m waiting for someone.” She noticed the twinkle in your eye and gave you a knowing smile. 

“Ah! I’ll come back in a minute.” She said placing down two drink menus. You continued to watch the storm outside as you shed your coat. A flash of brown flew by your window. It backtracked and stood in front of you, a goofy wet smile on its face. Minho. He waved and tried to start a conversation with you through the window, most likely forgetting you couldn’t hear him and that he was standing in the pouring rain. 

You pointed to the front door of the cafe with a laugh hoping he would get the idea. He nodded, eyes turning to crescents and he rushed through the rain. The bell rang as he entered the shop. Minho took off his coat and slid into the other side of the booth. “Sorry, I’m late. The boys were being assholes.” He said shaking his wet hair. 

“It’s fine. I wasn’t waiting long.” 

Minho smiled at you from across the table and asked you about your week. The waitress soon returned and smiled at you before nodding at Minho and giving you a thumbs up. Thankfully he was too busy looking at the drink to see the exchange. 

“I’ll have an iced americano, and Y/n wants a chai tea latte with extra cream.” Minho handed the barista the menus and turned to find you looking at him weirdly. “What?” He asked unbothered by your stare.

“You know my drink order?” 

“Of course. Now let’s get this date started.”

Changbin:

Changbin really wanted to impress you. He was surprised you even said ‘yes’ to going out with him. Maybe you were confused and thought you were going out as friends. That would be so embarrassing. He internally cringed as he walked up to your door, hoping that wasn’t the case.

He put on his brightest smile to hide his nerves as he heard you start to open the door. “Hi, Binnie!” He drunk you in. You looked breathtaking. Just for him. All doubts from before were thrown out the window. “Where are we going tonight?” You asked looping your arm with his.

Changbin subtly flexed his arm under your touch and led you to his car. “Just a restaurant uptown.” Little did you know this restaurant uptown was the highest rated restaurant in the city...not to mention very expensive. Your eyes widened when you pulled up and a valet parked Bin’s car. 

“Changbin...this is not just a ‘little’ restaurant.” You said in disbelief. He draped his arm around your waist and smirked as you walked up and asked for your reservation. 

“Only the best for my girl,” Changbin whispered into your ear.

The host led you to a secluded booth in the back and Changbin slipped her a twenty to make sure no photographers bothered you. He handed you a menu and you tried to keep your eyes from bulging out of your head. The salad cost $27! Changbin must have seen you panicking about the prices and laughed. “Order anything you want, Y/n. I’ll pay.” 

“I’ve never even heard of half of the things on this menu.” Even in this fancy place, Changbin made it easy for you to laugh. He shrugged and made a silly face at you. 

“You ready to order?” The waiter asked coming back.

You were about to say ‘no’, but Changbin interrupted you. “We’ll do the tasting menu tonight and can we get a bottle of Merlot for the table?” Changbin winked at you as he handed the menu to the waiter. “You said you didn’t know what you wanted, so why don’t we try a bunch of stuff?” Changbin said reaching for your hand across the table. The rest of the night was filled with amazing food and great conversation.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin wasn’t nervous one bit. He had confidence oozing out of him as he climbed the stairs to your studio apartment. He had waited all week for this. Felix helped him pick out the perfect clothes and Chan even gave him a pep talk before he left the dorm.

The sound of his knuckles tapping against the door filled the hallway. His fingers tapped nervously on the bouquet in his hands. “Hyunjin, hi-” You opened the door a beautiful smile on your face. Your eyes widened falling on the flowers in his hand. “Oh my gosh! Jinnie, these are gorgeous.” 

His fingers brushed yours as he handed them to you. “They are for you.” His heart was hammering against his chest seeing you inhale the flowers sweet aroma. “You ready to go?” You nodded and placed the flowers inside before linking your hand in his. The two of you hopped on a train to head to the amusement park.

The second you stepped into the park you ran straight for the cute little animal headbands and souvenirs. Hyunjin happily bought you two matching headbands and wore it around the park with you. His arms were around you the entire day, even on all the rides. 

While you waited in lines for the rides he stood behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and chin rested on your head. “Did you know turtles can breathe through their butts?” Hyunjin asked while you waited in line for the Ferris wheel. It was a particularly long line since the sun was beginning to set and everyone and their brother wanted a ride.

“What?”

“Yeah,” He said as the two of you moved to the front of the line. “I saw it on a video Jisung was watching. Wouldn’t it be so cool if you could breathe out of your butt?” You laughed as an attendant let the two of you into a car and it lifted you into the air. Being the dramatic dork Hyunjin is, he insisted on kissing you at the very top. 

Jisung:

Jisung was very nervous. He had been pining after you for so long, so when he finally got the courage to ask you out his whole body kind of stopped functioning when you said ‘yes’. Not really knowing what to do with himself, he shoved his hands in his pockets with a shy smile and said “Cool,” then ran away.

You found it quite precious. However, it was now the day of your date and Jisung had absolutely no plan whatsoever. He was walking up the stairs to your apartment trying to put together a last second nervous outline of what could happen.

All coherent thoughts went flying out of his brain when you opened the door. “Hi Ji!” You said waving and inviting him in. Just breathe. It’s fine. Everything is great. You aren’t going to have a panic attack, Jisung kept telling himself. You looked fantastic. You always did, but the fact that you put in a little extra effort just for him made his heart go crazy.

“So...I don’t really have a plan for today.” Jisung nervously stated, looking around the apartment he had been in many times. He watched you shrug and throw down the jacket you were holding onto the table.

“That’s fine. We can order in and hang out here if you want?”

 You smiled seeing Jisung’s body fully relax. His shoulders were obviously tense when he walked through the door. He nodded a timid smile on his lips. In all honesty, you were hoping to have some alone time with him rather than going out. “I can order some sushi or a pizza?” He said pulling out his phone.

You took the opportunity to grab his hand and drag him over to the couch. “That sounds perfect.” Jisung smiled when you sat so close to him, a hand on his knee. His nerves quickly went away as he talked with you, completely ignoring the horror film you had picked to watch. Every once in a while you would get scared and bury your head in his shoulder and Jisung would wrap his arm around you in a welcoming embrace.

“This wasn’t a bad date was it?” He asked hours later when he was leaving.

“No. It was perfect.” Jisung blushed feeling your lips press against his before you closed the door leaving him a red happy mess in the hallway. He would dance and jump down the hall back to his car.

“YES!” He said with a dramatic fist pump.

(my introverted bb omg)

Felix:

Felix was over the moon. He had your entire date planned before he even asked you out. He had been thinking about this for months. His logic was if he planned it out beforehand there was no way he could back out of asking you. He waltzed up to your door and waited for you to answer. 

“Hey Y/n,” Felix said in a singsong voice. He leaned down a pressed a kiss to your cheek making you blush. You wrapped your hand around his and grabbed the backpack he told you to bring. 

“Felix, where are we going? Why did you tell me to bring all this stuff?” 

He pressed his finger to his lips and dragged you to his car. “Shh! It’s a surprise.” About forty minutes later, he parked in front of a water park. “Here we are!” He said racing around to open your door. After Felix paid for your tickets and got a locker for your stuff the two of you changed into swimsuits and raced into the park. 

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Felix shouted before cannonballing into the nearest pool only to be yelled at by the lifeguard. You laughed and helped him out, his hair shaking like a wet dog. The two of you spent the day going on all the rides, eating snow cones, and lounging in the lazy river. 

“You having fun?” Felix asked as the two of you lay on a pool float sailing down the lazy river. Felix was spread out and you lay between his legs and on his bare chest. You nodded hand dangling in the water and sun on your back. Felix tangled his hands in your semi-wet hair and wrapped an arm around your waist.

There was honestly nothing better than just laying with Felix and talking about nothing at all. Even if random kids splashed you occasionally when they passed by. Felix used his foot to push the float away from the corner wall making you giggle as the float sped up temporarily. 

“Can this be our second date too?” You asked. “And our third, and fourth, and fifth?” Felix laughed out loud and splashed you with a little water.

Seungmin:

Seungmin wasn’t nervous, but he was a little anxious. He wouldn’t let the other boys see how excited he was to see you though. Seungmin knew he didn’t want to take you on a cliche date. He wanted it to be fun and colorful and different. 

“You ready to go?” He asked when you answered the door. You grabbed your purse and nodded. Hesitantly he took your hand and held it in his. You could tell Seungmin was a little shy when it came to physical signs of affection so you confidently laced your fingers with his.

Seungmin brought you to the Trick Eye Museum in Seoul and bought your tickets before leading you inside. The two of you goofed around, nerves quickly leaving the both of you as you played around the 2-D paintings and murals. Seungmin brought his camera and took silly pictures of you with the illusion paintings. He even let you take weird pictures of him.

The two of you laughed and goofed around with the paintings before leaving the museum and going to a nearby restaurant for dinner. The two of you sat on the same side of the booth and scrolled through the pictures in his camera. “You looked really cute here,” Seungmin said showing you a photo of you in one of the illusion murals.

“No, that’s just your fantastic photography.” You said wrapping your arms around his waist. A few minutes later your food arrived and you talked about Seungmin’s rehearsals and how the boys were doing. He told you funny stories about Han and Felix getting into trouble that had you nearly choking on your food.

After dinner was finished, Seungmin walked you back to your apartment and stood outside your door with you, hands shoved in his pocket. “So...I had a really good time with you tonight.” He said, shyly looking between you and the floor.

“I did too.”

“Would you maybe wanna go out again this weekend?” He grinned seeing your smile. You nodded and started playing with your house keys. Seungmin didn’t really get the signal and just looked at you like a cute puppy. Knowing he wasn’t going to kiss you, you leaned up and pressed one onto his cheek. When you pulled away his ears were bright red.

“I’ll see you this weekend, Min.”

Jeongin:

Jeongin was very nervous. He had never really dated before since most of his teen life was spent as a trainee. Chan had helped him come up with idea for his date and Felix helped him pack the picnic dinner Jeongin was planning on bringing.

At about seven o’clock Jeongin arrived, picnic basket and blanket in hand. He was dressed in a nice button-up shirt and jeans, his hair was even styled. Thank goodness he found a stylist before they left the company today. “Hi, Innie!” You said giving him a hug. He wasn’t expecting such a happy reaction to seeing him, but it didn’t go without thanks.

He offered you his arm before the two of you hopped on a train down to the Han River. It was dark by the time you got to the Banpo Bridge, but you noticed many other couples were seated or lying on the grass. Jeongin laid out the blanket and you helped him unpack the incredible meal Felix prepared. 

Just as you were about to start eating, the fountain on the side of the bridge started spraying water down into the Han River. You jumped and then watched the water show in awe. “Jeongin, Jeongin, Jeongin! Look! Oh my gosh! It’s pink! Wow, it’s so pretty!” You exclaimed watching the pretty water. 

“Do you like it?” He asked shyly.

“Yes, I love it.” The two of you lounged on the blanket talking about random topics and watching the water show. When the fountain shut off you stayed and looked at the stars, being able to see them better here than deeper in the city. “Innie, I’m having so much fun!”

“Me too!” He said looking over at you. “I really don’t want this to end.” 

You smiled and stole a piece of food from his plate. “Do you want to do this again?” You asked. Jeongin nodded giving you a bright smile. He reached over and took your hand in his.

“Yeah, I would really really like that.”

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

If you wanna be on the tag list just let me know!

Masterlist

[airi-p4]

Stealing hearts

I wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers LBSC Sprint challenge - Meet cute week event.  Vipermouse enemies to lovers, because, honestly, who doesn’t love those? 

Prompt: They meet while trying to steal the same thing

Rules: write in 3 sprints of 15 minutes each + 24 hours to edit. (I used 4 sprints, but whatever ^^;)

Thank you @livrever for checking it for me 💙

AO3

_____________________________

The night had fallen. The street lights illuminated the streets, the whole city under the soft moonlight. Hiding in the shadows of the night, Multimouse jumped to the roof she targeted and observed through the glass window.

There it was: the Ladybug miraculous- her target.

Stealthily, she snuck close enough to detect the security cameras and the museum guards. They were not going to make it easy for her to steal the jewels, were they? Multimouse smirked. That wasn’t something that could stop her, anyway. She called for her power: “Multitude” and a group of tiny multimice appeared in her place. All of them knew how to proceed. In just two minutes, they got down the half-opened trapdoor, avoided all the security systems, took the magical earrings, and returned to the roof.

Mission complete.

Once outside, and just before the alarm buzzed, she recovered her multimouse appearance and smiled satisfied at her achievement: the powerful jewel safe in her hands. The next part should be easy, she had thought, but she suddenly found herself trapped with a hand covering her mouth and an unknown arm immobilizing her. She immediately fought it, without success.

“Shhh…” A husky low voice said close to her ears. “Keep quiet if you don’t want to be found out again”

The voice gave her shivers. ‘ Who?'

“In 2 seconds a guard is going to come through the door, but he’ll run the other way. We’ll escape then”

Multimouse’s mask wrinkled at her frown, showing doubt. She worked alone. She should trust no one. Everyone else was an enemy.

“Now. Count to 3 and jump to that roof. Trust me” the stranger's voice continued.

Multimouse saw the guard run the other way, just like the mysterious voice’s owner foretold. She tried to escape that moment, but, as if he had seen through her, the stranger caught her in his big arms and carried her little body to the next roof and to an empty room under the stairs, locking the door behind him.

The moonlight that filtered in through the small upper window of the room let Multimouse see the stranger for the first time. His yellow eyes glowed in the dark, along with his green hair, the same color as his tight, snake themed suit.

“Viperion” she mumbled, and his yellow eyes smiled at her under his mask. “You’re Viperion, aren’t you? Why are you here?”

“For the same reason as you, Multimouse” He smiled at her, amused, showing how the earrings she had just stolen were now in his hands.

“Hey! Give them back! I stole them first!” Multimouse attempted to fight, but Viperion skillfully dodged her surprise attack and immobilized her using her suit's tail- a jumping rope. All her attempts to free herself were useless, but she didn’t stop trying. “Let me go! I need them," she protested.

"Shhh… You wouldn't want to be discovered, would you?"

He had a point, despite her disgust. Multimouse felt like prey under his amused glare. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t deny something about all this was thrilling. She had to take the earrings back and escape. She needed a plan. She was good with plans. What were even Viperion’s powers? He was barely in the news: a complete mystery- just a rumour. How did he know about the guards? About her attacks? It almost seemed as if he had known what was going to happen beforehand...

Time. His power is related to time, she figured out.

A sudden fleeting flashback in her mind distracted her. By instinct, her hand stopped trying to free herself from his grip and held onto the snake bracelet on his wrist instead. She didn’t even know why she did it, but he froze at this act. His body stiffened and his smile disappeared. Didn’t he foresee this?

“Let go, Mouse” Viperion commanded in a serious tone.

“Not until you give back what’s mine”

“It’s not yours, you just stole it”

“Which makes it mine now! Don’t think I’ll allow you to reverse time again”

“You figured out my powers? Not bad, Mouse”

“I’m not stupid. You knew about the guards. You lead me to this room knowing it was empty, despite another one being closer. You knew exactly where I would call my power back. But despite stealing my earrings, you haven’t run away yet. Why? What are you trying to do?” “You said you wanted the jewels, but that’s not true. What do you want?”

“I want to become your ally. Would you believe that?”

“Of course not! Why would you want that? We don’t know each other!”

“You don’t. And I certainly didn’t a few loops ago. I know you now. You’re even more beautiful under the mask” he fondly stated.

Why was she even blushing? Sure, he was hot but- Why were her lips tingling? Could it be?

“You kissed me...”

He seemed surprised at her question. Was she supposed to forget about everything that happened in previous loops? Probably. Only he could know how many times the scene repeated.

“Technically,” he tilted his head to the side, “you kissed me. To distract me, you know? It worked quite well, to be honest” he winked.

Multimouse was surprised. Would she really do that in despair? Should she try it again, then...? She couldn’t deny his lips were… tempting. He was HOT. Too HOT she finally noticed, all flustered.

What was she even thinking? He was the enemy! Why would he want her to become his ally anyway?

She shoved her hormones away. “You haven’t answered me yet. You already have the Miraculous. What else do you want!? Why haven’t you escaped yet?”

“I do have the Miraculous, but now? I’m more greedy than that. There’s something else I want” he showed a knowing smile, that thrilled her.

“What is it...?” she finally asked, after hesitating for a few seconds.

Viperion took a step closer to Multimouse and made sure her eyes kept locked in his own. “Go to a date with me”

“A… date…?” she blinked twice in disbelief. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No, I’m not. I’m serious” She frowned her eyebrows, not trusting him, but he continued. “You can’t remember, but I do. During the first loops, you kicked my ass. Who would have thought you were so strong despite your tiny body? When I could finally immobilize you, you tricked me and distracted me with a kiss. Not that I can complain, though. It was a very effective move. You’re a good kisser, you should be proud of that”

Multimouse face flustered red and his smile widened in amusement. “I- What happened next?”

“The next few loops I finally immobilized and stole the jewel from you. I thought you were tricking me again when you started to cry, but you weren’t. You were honest and your heart cried out for help. I listened to your reasons and I understood why you steal and why this Miraculous was so important to you” he explained.

“Then you know why I need it and why I can’t give it to you!” she yelled, avoiding those eyes that were giving her butterflies in her insides.

“I do.” He nodded. “That’s why I gave you the jewel back the next loop. And you smiled gratefully- the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. And at that moment, your transformation dropped and I was doomed”

“What- do you mean...?” she asked, feeling even weaker under his hungry stare. She gulped, both in fear and excitement. Her heart rate intensified, making her cheeks even redder. It only worsened when he approached his face closer to hers even more.

“That now I can’t stop going back in loops until I find a way to convince you to meet me again. I want you to rely on me” he confessed. “I want to help you find another way to fix everything. Revenge is never the answer”

“Huh...?” Multimouse sensed honesty in his words. But she was a loner. She had a mission- She had to-

“Is that too much to ask?” He continued, distracting her from her thoughts. “I can’t let you go knowing you’re going to be hurt or even disappear once you use the ultimate power of the Miraculous. Besides: you stole my heart- isn’t it fair I get to keep the earrings?”

Multimouse short-circuited. Was he serious? He sounded serious. Was it even possible for someone so HOT to be interested in her? Why was her heart beating so fast? Was she… happy? Pleased? Excited?

“Mouse,” he called again, and her body reacted to his voice. “Do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow? I’ll prove you I’m reliable”

“Are you serious…? Are you trying to trick me?” She asked. She was scared of betrayal, but couldn’t help it but be hopeful as well.

“I’m totally serious” He said, and her heart throbbed at his piercing eyes.

“How can I assure you’ll be there? And how will I recognize you under your mask?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Maybe…? If you answer me first”

“Here,” Viperion let go of the tail that kept her trapped, but she kept her hand on his bracelet. With his hand now free, he took her free hand on his and opened it, placing one of the earrings on it. Multimouse’s eyes opened wide in surprise, and only after closing her fist in a protective manner, she let go of his wrist. “You keep one, I keep the other. Is this enough assurance?”

Multimouse nodded. “How will I recognize you?”

The snake’s hero smiled widened at her question, his eyes glowing in the dark as he moved to unlock the door. “Don’t worry, Mouse- I will” He winked before he fled and her legs turned jelly, making her fall on her knees.

She had a date with Viperion!?

____________________________________________________

Marinette was nervous. More than nervous. She had agreed to go on a date with a stranger. Viperion. Was she going to be ok? Her heart beated in anticipation. What would he look like under the mask? What if he had tricked her? She had to stay in alert mode, she had ignore the image of that stupid tight suit of her mind- of those yellow eyes and sexy fangs- Did she just say sexy? No, Marinette! Stop! He’s HOT but still the enemy.

Deep in her inner thoughts, she didn’t notice how a hooded figure approached her until she noticed a pair of colorful sneakers and black denim jeans in front of her. She gulped, nervously, and raised her head to look at her date’s face. She was surprised when she didn't see green or yellow as she expected- but blue instead. Beautiful sky blue that made her heart flutter. And if she had any doubt of his identity, the Miraculous on his ear made it clear.

She had thought Viperion was hot in his suit but without it? Damn It. She was screwed.

"Hello, Mouse. I’m happy to see you” He greeted with a wide, loving smile. “How should I call you?”

“Ma-Ma-Marinette" Her face burned even more in embarrassment.

“Marinette” he repeated, with a smile on his face. “That’s a beautiful name. I’m Luka” He ducked to reach her eye level, and her gaze moved from the floor to his hypnotizing blue eyes. "Are you still wary of me? Where did your confidence from last night go, Ma-Ma-Marinette?" he teased.

“So unfair…” she mumbled, and it took him by surprise when she stepped on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. She kissed him roughly, and he soon led all his attention to her. Her hands moved to his hair, and his hands rested on her waist, pulling her closer. A long passionate kiss.

Marinette broke the kiss when she felt the need for air, and Luka had a cute lovestruck grin. They stood in front of each other for a minute, awkwardly, trying to come with something to say, until Marinette called his name.

“Luka. I guess we’re even now” she said, showing the two Ladybug earrings on her hand. Luka gasped.

“You, little thief! I shouldn’t have told you how to distract me. I’m so stupid!” he regretted, fearing a farewell. But she didn’t move. “Wait- Why are you not running away now that you have what you wanted?”

Marinette smiled and sticked her tongue out at him, playfully. “You said it before: you stole my heart, so isn’t it fair that I keep the earrings? Who's the thief now, huh?”

Luka laughed and she smiled fondly at him. “And now?” he asked, hopefully.

Marinette grinned, returning one of the earrings to his hand and holding the other one tightly. “Now we have a date and a lot of kisses to share"

“I like this plan” Luka answered, leaning in to kiss her once again.

THE END

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 127

Annnnd a-one, and a-two, and a queue-queue-queue!

This chapter has one of my favorite things in the world to write - Interpersonal relationships (if you are surprised, I’m going to assume you are new here....).

Specifically, one of my biggest pet-peeves is when friends or siblings are written in a way that shows that the author doesn’t actually have any friends or siblings they are close enough to that all rules of societal politeness go whizzing into some far-off dimension as soon as they are in proximity.

When I get to write a chapter with such close friends/ersatz-siblings and also have @baelpenrose cackling and egging me on, it literally makes my whole day.

P.S: If anyone has wondered about the ages of the characters, several are clearly lined out in this chapter......

EDIT: Fixed some insane formatting issues.

“The food festival, Sophia? Really?” an incredulous voice asked before the door to my office even opened all the way.

I resisted the urge to scream, but did surrender to pinching the bridge of my nose and breathing slowly. “Hello, Arthur. Do come in. Long time no see.  Of course I’m not busy…” My one day each week to have a few hours to myself - no mentees, no assistant, even Tyche was off work….

“We saw each other last night when I came over for dinner after sparring with Conor, and  you’re never busy on Saturdays, Alistair makes sure of it.” He dragged a chair in front of my desk for what I felt was the sole purpose of putting his boots on my desk instead of the conference table.

“I thought you two didn’t even like each other, how did you - “

He waved a hand dismissively. “Enemy of my best friend’s enemy is my friend, that sort of thing. Anyway - “

“Did you just call me my own worst - “

“You are, let’s not pretend otherwise. Anyway.” Arthur arched an eyebrow at me and waited for any further objections, but I couldn’t think of any. “The Food Festival. It’s my one favorite tradition on this ship until armed combat becomes a spectator sport, and you are putting Parvati and Hannah in charge of it?”

After a beat pause to make sure he was done, I glared at him. “Everyone has asked me that, and I don’t understand the issue.  They’ve both helped in the past, even before they started training to replace me.  I’ve handed more and more off to them each time, and they did great! Plus, they have three months, it will be fi - Wait, why do you even care, Arthur?”

He held up one finger with the authority of a deity who would have smited me if he could. “One, Parvati Fletcher does not like mapo tofu. You do. Specifically, you like it from that one vendor who grows her own Sichuan peppercorns and uses them like they are an infinite resource. Two, I spend entirely too much time working with Zach Khan, and he won’t shut up about how stressed Hannah is. Three - “ I was seriously starting to get concerned he actually could smite me at this point - “As much as I love you in the most platonic way possible, you are an obsessive, compulsive perfectionist who insists on doing everything herself and running herself into the ground so that everyone else has the time of their lives. So why are you trusting this, the largest and oldest event on the Ark, entirely to other people?” Dropping his boots from the desk, he leaned forward, palms down until we were nearly nose to nose.

“Sophia Reid, I swear on any god I can kill if you are dying…”

“WHAT!?” I squawked, jerking back and standing so fast I knocked my chair over. “For the love of little fish, I’m not dying! I haven’t had a near death experience in four years, thank you.”

“Three, not counting the fact that there is a reason Alistair makes you drink anything through a straw anymore.”

“How did - Nevermind.” I shook my head and tried to focus on the topic at hand. “No, I’m not dying. Nor am I injured, having a midlife crisis, rethinking my life choices any more than I ever do, or so much as in possession of a stuffy nose.” Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes and started counting off before I could stop myself. “Conor and Maverick and I are fine. No, I’m not arguing with Tyche again. Yes, I’m still going to therapy. Else is fine. No new sentient plagues or rogue cult leaders that I’m aware of. Nor have I become immortal, queen of the universe, savior of humanity, pregnant by Noah, or possessed.” Carefully, I picked my chair back up and sat down.

“Good...to… know?” He gave me a funny look. “Who asked the most disturbing one?”

“Immortal or Savior of Humanity?” I asked for clarification. “Those were Maverick and Derek, respectively.”

The look only got worse. “I meant ‘pregnant by Noah’, but fascinating to see where your priorities lie….?”

“Oh. That was Charly.”

“Dammit,” he swore softly. “I had her pegged for ‘possessed’.”

“I’m pretty sure she is, but the suggestion that I am came from Tyche, on no fewer than 3 occasions, by 4 different entities. She seemed pretty hopeful that Else was potentially mind-controlling me in an effort to make me take a nap,” I admitted.

“That tracks.” A nod of approval prefaced the question I had been avoiding - successfully, thus far, I might add. “Now that you’ve ruled out every possible plausible reason that you would entrust this to literally anyone other than a clone of yourself, why?”

“Why what?” My face was composed in an expression of innocence so convincing that I probably deserved an Oscar.

“I can and will convince Charly to turn all your coffee to decaf, so help me, Sophia.”

Realizing that he was, legitimately, worried about me and at the limits of his usually-impressive patience, I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. You get the scoop.  Please record this and send me the loop, so I can just flick it at people who ask, please?” When he nodded, I exhaled slowly.  “It is no secret to anyone that I never wanted this job. I made the mistake of establishing the Food Festival, which as you point out is the largest event of the cycle on the Ark - the last three years, literally everyone attended in some capacity.” When he opened his mouth to argue, I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the Festival. What basically started out as a potluck because we were homesick and needed to meet - you know, the rest of humanity - is a huge, three day holiday.  It’s amazing!” I spun in my chair, arms flung wide for emphasis, before stopping to face him. 

“It also consumes my life, for months, to prepare for.  And that’s just implementing changes to make it more accessible so people don’t miss out! That doesn’t include adding things to make it more interesting or keep it from getting boring, or whatever. I literally don’t have time to do any of that!”

“So, you’re inflicting this on them instead?”

“Inflicting?” I snorted.  “Hardly. This is their final exam, their capstone project, their dissertation.  If they pull this off, I will gladly hand the entire office over to whoever is elected, cheerfully and knowing the Ark is in good hands.  But, they have to pull this off.  It’s the only major part of being Councilor of Resources and Relations that they haven’t done yet by themselves.”

He rubbed his face, looking somewhat impressed. “That’s honestly not what I was expecting.”

“I don’t think it ever is, honestly.” I shrugged at the question he glanced towards me. “For Evan, it was coordinating the weapons exhibitions.  Charly managed to pre-empt her own by designing more efficient aqueducts and filtration for when we reach Von - you know, the ones that also produce light?”

“Of course she would invent glow-in-the-dark plumbing. Who else?” Something caught up with him. “Evania Josue got away with planning an event? Seriously?”

“Oh, that’s right… you weren’t on Level One…” I murmured. When he only looked more confused, I clarified. “She was Maverick’s co-pilot when we needed people to pilot the Ark, which was not designed to pilot manually, via dead reckoning, using cameras pointed out the few viewports we have, for several weeks after the sensors were sabotaged.”

“She was whose co-pilot?”

“You really never heard this story? You practically live with seven people who were there…”

“Usually I get the bits about ‘Sophia nearly got her brains bashed out’ and ‘that traitorous bitch’, then start tuning out while I try to decide what it would take to get Charly to teach me necromancy… If Evan was the co-pilot, then why is Maverick….”

“Not in line to replace any Councilors? Arthur, we know that would be a disaster for him.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Your younger partner is a nice boy.”

“For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty seven!” I groaned.

“Nice man, whatever,” he waved off. “Which is exactly what I would like for you as a partner. You need nice partners, and blunt siblings. But I see what you mean about him being a Councilor… he’d be miserable.”

“What was yours?” I asked mischievously, dropping my chin onto my hands.

That earned me a flat stare, until he finally surrendered when I didn’t flinch. “The Twentieth/Early Twenty First History curriculum.”

“Seriously?” That had literally been the first thing he had done when Eino tapped him as a possible successor.

“I didn’t budge on points even he admitted he would have, out of fear of offending people.”

“Which is a fear you very much lack,” I pointed out.

“The truth is the truth. Coating it in sugar only makes it taste worse.” He shrugged nonchalantly before suddenly looking dangerously like he was thinking again. “There’s two of them.”

“Yes, Arthur. Hanna and Paravati are, in fact, two distinct and separate women-type-lady-people.”

“Thank you, Fee, I was well aware.” I suppressed a growl at the nickname - he knew I hated it. “I meant, only one can win the election, smartass.”

“Better to be a smartass than a dumbass,” I muttered.

“Sophia, you are forty five. Please grow up just a hair?”

“Tyche doesn’t want to be HR forever, you know.”

That brought his mind to a visibly screeching halt. “Wait, what?”

“What what?” I asked. “She does it because she is phenomenal at it, but it isn’t her passion.  She only stuck around as long as she did to make sure I didn’t trip over a chair and brain myself while I was at work.  When I’m gone, she’s gone, loser take the spoils.”

He whistled softly before shaking his head. “It’s bizarre to think of you two retiring around the same time I’m just starting the position.”

“I’ll have been a Councilor for a decade when I step down,” I pointed out.  I almost included unless I die first, but that never seemed to be as funny as I thought it was.

“But you aren’t that much older than me,” he sighed dramatically. “Anti-aging technology is frustrating.”

“Annnnd this is a natural extension of your career, with a ten year break thereabouts the middle.”  My grin was so bright it made him scowl before I finally got a begrudging smile.  “Think of it as getting elected head of the school board.”

The groan he let out probably echoed for several levels throughout the ship. I had basically just pointed out that he was becoming that which he most hated.

Or not. He seemed to recover with a gleam in his eye. “Pfft. Dean of Students, at the very least.”

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[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 6

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: After learning Hawk Moth's identity, Lila inserts herself into Gabriel's inner circle so she can destroy Ladybug-- er, get Ladybug's earrings. Ha-ha-ha. Ha.

Lila toed the cement beneath her as she restlessly awaited the assistant’s arrival. Gabriel had used an earpiece to communicate to her, Lila assumed. But the waiting was painfully awkward. Neither party made any attempt to fill the silence. The absurdity of the situation sat on their chests like an overweight feline unwilling to move.

As the sun dipped out of golden hour, the mansion shrouded the garden in shadow. Lila squinted her eyes to try and make out the details of Adrien’s mother’s statue, but the effort was fruitless. Wouldn’t a billionaire have, like, lamps or something? Maybe he didn’t have lamps because he hardly left the walls of his office.

Lila’s lips twitched into a smirk, but she quickly smothered it.

There was a sudden scuffling of shoes against the garden stones from behind Lila. She observed wordlessly from the corner of her eye as the looming and brooding Gabriel Agreste flew to the assistant’s side at an inhuman speed and held his arms out to support her silently, his fingers never quite making contact with the body he seemed desperate to protect.

Huh. A weakness. Hawk Moth had a weakness.

Lila filed that tidbit away should she need it for later.

“You were quite cryptic over the phone, sir,” the assistant started.

“I suppose I was, Nathalie. What needed to be said was . . . not phone appropriate.”

“Sir?”

Knowing Gabriel was Hawk Moth seemed to have tipped a domino in Lila’s brain. It was like there was a blanket over her eyes and it had been ripped away. On several occasions, a blue-skinned bird lady aided and abetted Hawk Moth. Lila had wondered who would possibly be close enough to the villain to be looped into his plans.

The connection was easy to make.

Lila folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side, looking Nathalie up and down. When she had finagled her way into the Agreste mansion with a despicable limited edition Ladybug figurine, discovering the identities of Paris’s most wanted duo was not only low on her list of possibilities; it was nowhere near the friggin’ list.

But Dio was it the single most delectable turn of events.

“Let me guess. You were Mayura.”

Nathalie, who had been wholly oblivious to Lila’s presence, sucked in a breath, head spinning to meet the eyes of Adrien’s conniving classmate. Nathalie opened her mouth, probably to protest Lila’s statement, but the words died on her tongue. The only sounds came from the crickets chirping into the encroaching night air.

“She knows,” Gabriel explained.

“She . . . she knows?” Nathalie repeated.

Gabriel nodded. Nathalie’s gaze fell to the grass sprouting in between the garden stones. As the trio stood, the occasional butterfly fluttered around Gabriel like they knew they were kindred.

“You don’t need to be worried about . . . What’s the phrase?” Lila rested a finger on her chin. “Ah, right. Me spilling the fagioli. I don’t know the French word.”

“Beans,” Nathalie supplied.

“You know Italian?” he asked. Then softly to himself, “My Emilie knew Italian.”

Nathalie ducked her head at Gabriel’s attention before straightening her posture and jutting out her chin. If Lila hadn’t seen the woman shuffle over to this spot as if she were going to faint any moment, she might have never known there was anything amiss.

“So you . . . what? Want to be an ally?”

“Multilingual and smart,” Lila teased.

Something dark flickered in Nathalie’s eyes. Much darker than Lila would have ever given her credit for. “You’d do better to watch your tone with me, Mademoiselle Rossi.” She spat Lila’s name like one might an unforeseen chunk of raw garlic.

Ah, so this was how Nathalie wanted to play this. Lila’s fingers tingled in anticipation. She was a flexible actress, best known for her improv skills and dedication to her roles. If a performance was what the assistant wanted, then Lila was eager to put on a show.

“Why, Mademoiselle Nathalie--” Lila started, turning her back on the pair.

“Sancoeur.”

Lila rolled her eyes but proceeded to pump her tone full of sickeningly sweet syrup. “Right. Mademoiselle Sancoeur, it would be my pleasure to get the Ladybug Miraculous for Monsieur Agreste.”

“And Chat Noir’s.”

Lila plastered a fake smile on her face and turned on her heel. “Hm?”

Nathalie arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You loathe Ladybug, don’t you, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

“That’s no secret.”

“You want more than to take her Miraculous.”

It wasn’t a question. Lila held eye contact with Nathalie, unflinching. Eventually, she spoke. “I want to humiliate her. Like she humiliated me,” Lila growled. I want to destroy her.

The assistant chose not to expand on this statement, but Lila could tell she sensed a much more sinister motivation. She must have been weighing the pros and cons, her mind running a mile a minute to predict what including Lila might entail. Lila had to agree: she was a wildcard. Her loyalties teetered like a see-saw, ever-changing to suit her needs. She knew this. And Nathalie knew this.

Lila’s eyes bore into Nathalie’s, challenging her to refuse.

“I admit,” Nathalie began after a beat of consideration, removing her tablet from the crook of her arm, “you might make a valuable asset.”

Gabriel, who had been quietly observing the interaction between his assistant and the girl, folded his arms behind his back. “Yes, even now, while I’m untransformed, your contempt for the bug is palpable.”

“She’s a cockroach,” Lila sneered, her lips upturned in a grimace and her hand clenched tightly into a fist.

Lila’s enthusiasm amused Gabriel greatly. His shoulders shook as he chuckled, but the sound was hollow. “That is something we agree on. No matter how many times I pursue her, she manages to outsmart me.”

Lila bit her tongue. She wanted to say It’s easy to outsmart a man whose password is “password,” but she didn’t. She honestly deserved an award for that caliber of commitment.

“While you are very clever, you’ve been playing an elementary partita, Monsieur Agreste.”

Gabriel’s eyes hesitantly shifted to Nathalie.

“Game, match, etcetera,” she clarified. Ironically, a meager little ladybird flitted to Gabriel’s shoulders then. He scrunched his nose at it.

“And though it’s been a rousing game of tag--” Lila paused purposefully as Gabriel, without breaking eye contact, lifted a palm and allowed the dotted beetle to crawl onto his fingers before proceeding to wordlessly pass it to Nathalie. Lila cleared her throat. “I’m here to up the stakes.”

With her mouth set into a thin line, Nathalie bent over and shook her finger until the thing lost its grip and fell to the concrete. In the process, her shirt rode up to reveal a compelling pale scar the length of a thumb running up her side. Lila arched an eyebrow. Nathalie hastily covered it.

“What exactly are you implying, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

Gabriel peered at Lila over the bridge of his nose, daring her to challenge his legacy as Hawk Moth.

But Lila was not an expert manipulator for nothing. She knew how to read people, and, more importantly, she knew how to please them.

She knew how to play them.

“You’re a proper gentleman, Monsieur.”

Flattery. She would begin with flattery.

With one hand, she twirled one of her pigtails. Men and boys alike often found intelligent girls not only intimidating but emasculating. She wasn’t sure if Gabriel would take too kindly to a sixteen year old picking at all the holes in his plans, holding a magnifying glass to his inadequacies.

But she always loved creating fire with glass as a child.

She particularly enjoyed setting unsuspecting ants aflame.

“Getting your hands dirty is beneath you. There’s no doubt your plans are always cunning.”

She nearly gagged at the sound of those words leaving her throat as she slowly approached the designer and his assistant, calculating each step before taking it. No, she really didn’t believe his plans were cunning. It seemed like he akumatized anyone, chucking strategy to the wind. Imbecille.

“Your akumas, they’re always dressed so well--” it took a colossal amount of willpower for Lila not to look away then, a classic sign of lying “--and their powers are always a genius play on words--” double gag “--but unless you’re willing to play in the mud . . .”

Crunch.

The young vixen made a spectacle of rotating her toes back and forth as she squashed the ladybug the duo had so gingerly set on the stone. She relished in the sensation of a dainty beetle beneath her boot, imagining in vivid detail that it was the heroine’s skull instead.

When she lifted her foot, the two adults barely spared a glance at the result. Lila smirked.

“I’m willing to make a mess, sir,” Lila asserted, peering up at Gabriel through her bangs. She twirled and danced on the balls of her feet. “I would be a brilliant addition! I’ve wanted to wipe that smile off Ladybug’s face since I met her.”

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Gabriel’s lips tilted into a smile. He looked . . . almost proud. Lila lapped it up like a woman lost in the desert being given a bottle cap of water.

“Your family is from Italy, Lila?”

Lila tilted her head, confused by the abrupt detour in conversation. “. . . Yes.”

“How would you feel about an impromptu family visit?”

Nathalie’s eyes widened. She whipped her head around to stare down her boss so fast she was nearly overcome by dizziness. “You can’t really want--”

Gabriel held up a hand, instantly silencing his assistant. She searched his eyes for any remnants of humanity. Was there any left? Did it slip through her fingers on her watch? Gabriel couldn’t possibly want-- They were children, for God’s sakes!

But like an avalanche, his mask crumbled, and swept away with it was any morsel of decency.

“I do want, Nathalie. I’ve grown bored of this back-and-forth business with those two meddling infants. They hold onto those Miraculous so firmly, as if they could possibly know, possibly fathom--”

He didn’t finish his statement, closing his eyes and rolling his neck. Lila delighted in Gabriel’s sudden slip of conduct as his shoulders hunched all the way to his ears and he grinded his teeth. She hadn’t pictured him to be capable of such an erupting volcano of emotion. She often wondered if he was capable of emotion at all.

“Hand me the tablet, Nathalie.”

Nathalie gripped the tablet until her fingers turned white, but the resolve she saw in Gabriel loosened her own. Grudgingly, she passed him the device.

“There are some items I’d like you to procure for me, items that I surmise you’ll be quite pleased to have in your arsenal.”

Whatever these items were, they seemed to have Nathalie on the edge of her seat.

It was suddenly imperative that Lila find out what could have ruffled Mayura’s pretty feathers.

“Sir, you won’t be disappointed.”

Gabriel eyed Lila a moment before affirming, “I don’t believe I will.”

The final remnants of the golden hour neglected the garden, blanketing its visitors in a foreboding shadow like it was them and then it was the rest of the world. Perhaps this is why they missed the piercing green eyes surveying the trio scrupulously from a neighboring building.

So jealousy was a green-eyed monster.

No one mentioned it also wore black leather.

-----

I hope you're enjoying my little fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it! 🥰 There's still so much to uncover in this story so buckle up. Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

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[silverkoushi]

haikyuu!! headcanons

⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! pt.2 | read pt. 1 here! ⇢ feat. : tsukki (karasuno), bokuto (fukurodani) & kuroo (nekoma) x gn!reader ⇢  wc & warnings:  3.3k, slightly suggestive for kuroo

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ not @ me having the phattest crush on kuroo as you can probably tell here... dear god that man is something edit: omo for some reason the paragraphs got messed up n i just checked it after hours of posting... i fixed it now so hopefully it makes more sense ahh my apologies!! ><

tsukishima kei

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  idk about you but i think tsukki secretly enjoys the holidays? like he’d think the music is overbearing, the movies are disgustingly cliche, and the amount of people gathering in places is one of his worst nightmares— those aren’t the things that he looks forward to. i think tsukki loves winter, maybe because i see him as a softie who collects sweaters, hoodies, and sweatpants that keep him comfy and cozy during cold nights and chilly mornings! WITH THAT BEING SAID, tsukki dies inside when he sees you wearing any of those following outfits of his. he might get annoyed at first that you don’t ask because he was planning on wearing them that day, but when you show up at his dorm clad in his night blue sweater with a little moon stitched on the side, there are no words coming out of his mouth. he will try to look menacing, eyes in a deadpan expression but you know he’s lying, and just stare at him with a doe-like face and put his hands in yours, swinging it back and forth as you drag him out of his room and into the snowy field. you don’t even think twice about getting matching sweaters because the boy will hate you for the rest of his life, but at least you got him to wear a reindeer headband for 2 seconds in the photobooth!! most of the time, you basically just bring him to anywhere you want to go. you guys look at the humongous christmas tree they placed in the center of the plaza, and you ask someone walking by if you can get a picture of the two of you in front of him. this way, tsukki can’t complain and will be semi-forced to pose with you hehe. you thought he’d just be standing there, arms to his side with a nonchalant expression but you actually feel him put his arm around your waist and lean his head down on top of yours. 

you can’t help the cheeky smile show on your face as you tiptoe just enough to reach his cheek, and once the guy said, “ok one more!” you steal a kiss on the side of tsukki’s small smile. “hey, what was—” “thanks, mister!! happy holidays!!” you avoid his stare, and get your phone back from the guy as you scroll through the pics he took (thank god only a few were blurry). tsukki keeps glaring at you, and you understand he’s not big into pda but uh, he started it with holding you close to him like that >:( “what?? you look so cute here, though!!” you whine to him, hoping he doesn’t ask that you delete it :( tsukki gives it a once over, a warm feeling creeping on his cheeks as he studies the picture: damn, is he whipped for you. he dismisses the overreaction on his part (for once), and takes your hand in his once more, asking where it is you wanted to go next. you’re surprised he left it like that, but you’re taking advantage of this situation and drag him to more festive stuff around the plaza <3

with your parents spending the holidays abroad and working overtime, tsukki’s mom invited you to their place instead and you’re!! more than happy and oh so grateful!! tsukki doesn’t show it but he’s actually extremely nervous,, what if you don’t like his family?? what if his brother is too annoying for you, what if this isn’t the kind of in-laws you were expecting— wait, he’s thinking too far ahead and you’re looking at him with raised eyebrows. quick! he turns away from your gaze, biting his lip at getting caught with his overthinking. “tsukki, you okay?” you ask gently, looping your arm around his as you guys near his house. “yeah…” he responds lamely, and you’re not sure if he wanted you at his house for the holidays or what… but you shake the negativity away and tell yourself that this is an opportunity to show your own personality to his family!! you’re greeted by a boisterous even taller guy at the door, and his also really tall mom waving at you from the kitchen, finishing up the grand dinner. “mom and i thought you were just pretending about your relationship, tsukki~” akiteru nudges him, and you chuckle at your boyfriend’s helpless look on his face, as if telling you this is what i dealt with during my childhood. but the holiday celebration with his family went super smooth!! his mom cooked amazing homemade dishes, and tsukki was actually smiling and laughing along the poor jokes akiteru made, it was so endearing to watch. you asked to help with the clean up as tsukki and his brother play volleyball outside in the cold. 

“i’m so glad he has you,” his mom comforts you, and you nod your head in thanks while you wipe the plates clean. “i’ve never seen him so… cheerful like this, you know?” what a heartwarming thing to say :(( and yet you thought he was just finally letting loose because he’s at home!! his mom turns in early that eve of christmas, and his brother goes out to have a nightly beer sesh with his hometown friends before christmas morning tomorrow. you and tsukki are left alone in his room as you marvel at the many dinosaur related merch, posters, and even stuffies he has in his childhood room!! “don’t say it,” he threatens you lightly, even though you’ve been well-aware of his fascination for the species. a little tired from the trip earlier and ngl you’re both full from the food, you lay down on the floor, pillows supporting your sleepy heads as tsukki shares the other side of his earphones. you listen to calming, lofi music for the night and at some point, he finds your fingers in his again. “thank you for having me, tsukki,” you whisper with a yawn, remembering the night days ago where you cried into his shoulder about missing your own family during this season. tsukki doesn’t respond as he hears your light snoring, and instead turns his body towards you as he caresses the side of your face, smiling at the beauty before him. “you’re always welcome here, dummy. you’ll always have me.”

bokuto koutarou

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  oof!! so many holiday parties!! gift giving exchanges!! dancing and singing, drinking and having the time of your lives! of course, bokuto asks first and foremost if you’re okay going to all of these celebrations with him as he has gathered a lot of friends from different majors, clubs, and such. you didn’t expect to come with him to all of them, tbh, but since he seems so excited to bring you along you found yourself nodding along! OOPS, what a wild ride it was to meet friends you didn’t even know he had. first, bokuto asked you to help him find some gifts for the exchange parties and you comply— you love thinking up presents for diff kinds of people! “would akaashi want this?” he points at a set of compression socks for sports “you’d want that more, bo” “oh oh!! how about this for kuroo?!” he leads you to the beauty section, hairspray littering the aisle “i think that’s more of an insult than a gift…” he’ll pout at his failure to think of the best gifts for his friends, but you cling to him with your linked arms and tell him not to worry— you kinda figured the kind of people his best friends are, so you suggest things off the bat: film roll for akaashi the photography minor, a mug with a pun-ny chem joke for kuroo, and a new case for kenma’s switch lite!! “wah! you know them better than i do,” he exclaims, eyes shining in excitement as you bring the gifts and other extra stuff to his apartment to help him wrap them. with this, bokuto came up with an idea to wrap the presents in the most creative way possible, and you just stare at him in awe as he tries to disguise the mug as.. a gingerbread man?? you don’t even know how he did it! as you tape up the finishing touches with the others, you eye a small gift wrapped box on the island counter along with a card next to it, all glittery and a name scribbled on top that you can’t make out where you were seated. 

“hey, bo, who’s that for?” you point at the suspecting box, and almost immediately bokuto body slams you on the ground, obstructing your view of the gift. “bokuto i can’t breathe—” you wheeze, laughing at the way he scrambles to get up from the position but his feet slips against the unused wrapping paper on the floor. “sorry, sorry i just— STOP LOOKING” he pleads, caging you with his arms either side your figure. the both of you pause, realizing the predicament you’re in until bokuto unleashes a sly smirk, eyes pointed at you with a mischievous glint. you know that look, so you start wiggling out of his way until he plops down on you again (mind you, he’s MANY inches taller than you and his built...whew, but that’s part of the problem right now!!) and blows raspberries on your neck, the audacity!! “tell me,” he whispers against your ear after a while, voice suddenly low in tone and your senses perk up. “have you been naughty or nice recently?” he continues hoarsely, and it doesn’t take long until you burst out laughing at his attempt of being flirty right now. he finally releases you, feigns hurt from your reaction but he knows what a goofball he is.

anyway, you put all the gifts in the car and head to the many parties he was invited to!! and honestly, you enjoyed yourself albeit it got really tiring to show up with much enthusiasm compared to the last. but bokuto on the other hand never runs out of energy for some reason!! he’s still winning the games, singing his heart out with his friends, and trying all the foods in the potluck, even shamelessly!! feeding you too! it’s embarrassing >< but in a way your heart swells with the thought of bokuto being very openly proud of his relationship with you, and how his friends seem to like you as well! pictures were taken, holiday spirits and gifts were exchanged and finally, he’s free for the night <3 you’ve been waiting for the right moment to give him your personal gift to your boyf (it’s an edited picture of the two of you at one of his winning games!! you can’t draw for sht but you are the best at adding lil stickers and cute petnames all around the photo hehe) you had it inserted in a picture frame too so the gift was relatively medium sized and rectangular. when you crash at his place, you ready yourself to give it to him, having second thoughts with how corny it must seem like… as you psych yourself up on the couch, you feel his arms suddenly wrap themselves around you as he starts peppering your neck with lazy kisses. your chest tightens, eyes closed at the warmth of his lips on your skin but— you can’t get distracted!! “bo, i have something for you—” “i saved the best gift for last—” o, you say it at the same time and so you look at each other with blank stares, and then laugh at your awkwardness!! 

he lets you go first, your nerves slowly dissipating at the excited gleam in his irises, he’s so cute!! as he unwraps it, he hitches a breath, looks at you then the picture and you again and— let’s say your face was just full on bokuto territory only ;-) as much as you were enjoying his attention all on you, his gift wasn’t opened yet!! bokuto went from confident to shy mode again, hiding his face with only one eye peeking out to watch you…. for some reason, since it was a tiny box you blurted out, “don’t tell me it’s a ring, bo.” as a joke but bokuto suddenly freezes at your words. and you had to stop unboxing to make sure he doesn’t go all pale on you, but also??? was he really???? GOING TO???-- “DID YOU WANT ME TO GET YOU A RING?? I CAN RETURN THE EARRINGS TODAY, I THINK I STILL HAVE THE RECEIPT—” “bo, it’s okay!!! omg no T_T” you take his hands off his face to look at him lovingly, a kiss on his pouty lips as you reassure him his presence is all that you can ever want, but whatever it was he gave you, you’ll cherish just the same!! so finally, once you take the lid off the box you see an adorable pair of owl earrings!! it’s so cute and it reminds you of him and thats probably why he got that for you :’)))) “i also wrote you a letter but please read it when i’m asleep or something…” aww shy bokuto!! >< you never thought you’d see the day :’)

kuroo tetsurou

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮  man.. i just know this guy wouldn’t want to let leave… the bed… with him… on christmas day. imagine something like having to stay until he can for his duties at work which ended up til late christmas eve :( you were looking forward to spending time with him back at his hometown since you don’t necessarily celebrate the specific holiday, but being with tetsurou for almost a year now and knowing he does— you wanted it to be special and memorable for him! he felt really bad making you stay at his apartment until he finishes up work, really zooming through all the documents and stuff he needed to complete just so he can spend at least a few hours of christmas eve with you. when he got home, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you falling asleep on the couch, right next to the lit up christmas tree you two decorated a week ago (thats how busy he has been! you opted to fix the tree yourself, but tetsu insisted on doing it together since it’s your first holiday with him!). your favorite blanket was wrapped around you but your feet were dangling midway with no socks on and he just >:( had to carry you to bed and tuck you in— all of you!! 

he changes to a sweater and pjs before readying himself to carry you against his chest. his own body is exhausted from working non-stop, but he doesn’t let it get to him as he passes by the hallway and plops you gently on your side of the bed. you stir groggily, eyes refusing to open but you notice your surroundings are different. the room is dimly lit but the figure walking around the place isn’t amiss; with his hair sticking up and his wide shoulders, you know it’s your tired boyfriend finally home for the holidays. you smile, still sleep-induced but you try to reach over for him. “tetsu… come to bed, please,” you mumble but he hears you, and his back is against you but he smiles at your half-awake tone. “i’ll be right there,” he lets you know softly, and true to his word you feel the dip in the mattress with his warmth slowly exuding onto your own body, his hands easily finding themselves over you. you wiggle into his grasp, head against his chest and hands holding onto his waist. he feels warm, he feels like home, and you press a kiss where his neck meets his collarbones. “mm, merry christm…” you mutter, losing consciousness but he doesn’t mind. he lets you snore your way into dreamland, watching your eyelashes tickle the surface of your skin, lips partly open as you breathe in and out. suddenly, his tense muscles relax with your presence oh so close to you, and he sleeps soundly after a few minutes of admiring your face.

as the sunlight filters thru the windows, kuroo wakes up first but knowing it’s his day off (finally), he relaxes into the bed and just observes the tiny details of your face, same as the night before but with some of the brightly shining rays of the sun hitting the right spots— you’re breathtaking to him. he feels you stir in his embrace so he pretends to snore because he knows you like to get up as soon as you feel awake. “tetsu…” you mumble, popping out your head from his grasp to peer your eyes at him pretending to not hear you. “you’re a lousy liar, i know you’re up,” you tell him, rubbing your nose against him as a form of an eskimo kiss. it takes so much out of his restraint to bite his lip in pure love for you, so he gives in and kisses you on the lips. 

you are taken aback for a split second until you comply to his request, and you spend your first christmas morning with him in bed just like that <3 he still asks if you guys can spend the whole day just tangled into each other’s embrace but you lecture him playfully, knowing that he had a christmas party to attend to in the afternoon with his closest friends (bokuto, akaashi, kenma, and others) and you have a lovely dinner planned in the evening. he wiggles his eyebrows, fingertips tracing the exposed skin on your chest, “what if we skip all of that and i just have you for dinner instead?” “KUROO TETSUROU IT IS TOO EARLY FOR YOU TO SAY THAT RIGHT NOW—” you swear to god, it is his teasing and malicious intent that will kill you one day. but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed, and yet kuroo complies with your light nagging, getting up and getting ready for the day. you’re happy that he finally has the day off, and being with his friends during the party truly lightened up his mood. afterwards, he then asks where you got a reservation during the busiest time of the year, and you just winked at him and zipped your mouth. 

since you ate a bit at the party, you knew you had some time to finish prepping the food you had prepared the night before, it all just needed to bake or be cooked on the pan. and bec of his exhaustion last night, he didn’t even open the fridge at all so there were zero suspicious at your surprise dinner. urging him to take a long, hot bath, he drags you with him. “you seriously want me to take a bath by myself?” he says in shock horror, and normally you would join him hah but you tell him that your parents are calling, just wanting to say hello. a little sad, kuroo nods in understanding and so he goes about his way while you cook the food with haste. he likes to take his time in there but you know you won’t finish beforehand, so once he’s out of the bathroom, you immediately go right in front of him to hide the view of the kitchen. you played yourself, seeing kuroo only in his bathrobe with his chest exposed, you slap him right at the center to ignore the sensation in the pit of your stomach. “what?? what’d i do???” “existing right in front of me like that!!” kuroo laughs at your embarrassment, but kisses you on the forehead nonetheless. he ignores the obvious smell of pasta and chicken in the apartment, ignores the messy apron you forgot to take off because he thinks you really wanted to surprise him. so he goes to the room to change, thinking about how lucky he is to have you in his life. the rest of the night ends up with the both of you having a romantic dinner in the dining room, talking about everything you already know about each other—but it never feels repetitive. he always feels so renewed with you, falling in love every day. 

[daredevilexchange]

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What’s your fannish ID? MarvelGaynessToTheMax I was still in middle school when I made it so I’m not really sure what was going through my head when I made it lol. 

What types of fanworks do you create? I make funny little text posts and at times I’ll post edits I make. I want to write fanfiction, in fact I have one that’s about 77 pages in a Google doc but I’m not sure if it’s worth posting or not haha…

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you’re not creating? I love fanart and edits a lot, fanfics too.

What do you like in particular about this fandom? I love the characters, ships, and honestly just the mood of the fanfiction. Every fanfic I’ve read with Frank and Matt has given off almost a homey feel! Plus, all of the fanfiction I’ve read before are very well written. 

Do you like participating in fan events? I like posting mini posts on fratt week! But I’m not very good at sticking to a consistent schedule haha- 

What about your creating process? I have adhd (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), and to put it simply my brain never stops running. My brain is literally wired differently than other peoples because of it! Now, people with adhd do something call “hyperfixating” which is where we get really interested in a topic, like REALLY interested!! We can get stuck in a hyperfixating loop for years on end before our brains stop. So, to put it simply, I literally cannot stop thinking about Frank and Matt. Not even for a little bit. Why? Because my brain does “oh, this topic gives us lots of dopamine! Let’s just keep thinking about it then since it makes us really happy.” When I go to bed, my brain cannot shut off on its own, I need to either work until I reach a point of total exhaustion, or medication. I will often times lay in bed and stare at my ceiling, and when all you have is Frank x Matt going through your head, it becomes pretty easy to come up with different scenarios. Sorry if this was too long or annoying, my adhd also makes it hard to stop talking because my brain is constantly running.

Do you interact a lot with other fans? I know a few people, but I’ve never actually gotten to know them at all which kinda sucks… Nobody irl really bothers to listen to me when I talk about Frank and Matt, even though it’s super hard not to when I get all happy and giddy about them without really meaning to. And I have no filter… However when people like my posts it makes me happy too, and it’s not because the post is simply growing in popularity! It’s because I know other people out there are reading my posts and enjoying them. Maybe not as much as me, because my brain works differently, but it’s still nice because nobody else does for me.

Do you have other fandoms you’d like to talk about? I’m in BNHA, DemonSlayer, Spideypool (although it’s been a while), fairtytail and uhhhh it’s getting really hard to think of others because all I can think about is Frank and Matt when it comes to liking things haha

Is there anything else you want to tell us about yourself? Other than I have adhd? Well I’m trans, (female to male) and I go by he/him pronouns. I have tiktok and a yt channel that is hard around BNHA. I do asmrs that have surprisingly grown in popularity even though I haven’t done any videos in while because I can find motivation to talk about BNHA when all I can think about is Frank and Matt lol. Oh! And I’m in high school, taking courses to become an EMT! I could go on for hours here so I’m just gonna stop myself now.

Where can your fanworks be found? Maybe a few on my yt channel, but probably not. I’m on tumblr ( text-post tag, my-edit tag) and tiktok https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMetkrBPj/ (although I post Frank and Matt stuff on my tiktok it mostly consists of my hero academia cosplays and stuff) for the most part).

Thank you, @marvelgaynesstothemax !

banner by @context-is-for-kingpins !

[ID on a white background, four black triangles that look like spotlights from above. Each illuminates one of the Defenders silhouetted in white: Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt. A hand on the left is holding a pen writing the words Content Creator Spotlight. There is a little Punisher skull on the pen. End ID]

[stareyedplanet]

Birthday Surprises [p.p.]

•••••••••••••••••

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!reader Summary: Peter takes time from saving New York to spend time with you on your birthday, and he’s got a few surprises up his sleeve to make the day truly special. Notes: this is a very self - indulgent fic considering it is my birthday today, so seriously, do not come at me. you have been warned. even still there are like no descriptors. i think i mentioned he runs his fingers through her hair? maybe she blushes? i honestly can’t remember. i don’t really reread and edit soooo… and he picks out her outfit if that ruins your creative ability idk. people be weird sometimes. anywho, any feedback is appreciated other than the stuff i mentioned. Warnings: pure fluff, maybe a kiss or two Word Count: 2,348 ••••••••••••••••• You had never really been one to celebrate your birthday in the past. When you were younger you had a few parties, but as you got older birthday plans just seemed to fizzle out into nothingness. It always made you a little sad, but that was probably because the last birthday party you had you ended up sobbing at. Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t have a birthday party after that. You didn’t have very high expectations for the day, since to you it was just another day and another year. Your life wasn’t going to dramatically change because you were a year older. Really you just thought that maybe you would see Peter in between his patrols, and you’d put a candle on the little cupcake you got yourself. But Peter Parker had other plans.

He knew that you never really celebrated, but he wanted to make the day special for you. To him, you deserved one special day dedicated to you — really you deserved every day to be special and dedicated to you.

He couldn’t be more thankful for such a perfect and patient girlfriend. You never complained when he canceled on a date, or when he went on patrol so long you only got to see him a few minutes. Any time he ever had a cut or a bruise, you would sit him down and patch him up, always putting on a brave smile to cheer him up, even if he knew you were always terrified you would lose him. But you never let it get to you. You were always there for him and never showed signs of backing down.

So he was determined to make today special for you.

It was early when he was knocking on the door to your place, a sweet smile lighting up his entire face. He took in your appearance, still dressed in an oversized shirt and baggy sleep pants. Your hair was a mess around your face, frizzy and unbrushed.

This wouldn’t do.

“What are you doing? You have to get dressed! We have a busy day, come on.” Peter coaxed as he walked into your place, pushing you towards your room.

“Peter? I thought you would have patrol this morning?” You said, clearly confused as to what the boy was on about. Not that you were unhappy to see him. You loved being able to hang out with Peter longer than normal.

“Nope. Today is all about you, angel,” Peter grinned, kissing your cheek as he pushed you into your room before going to the dresser and pulling out an appropriate outfit. And by that he meant jeans and his old Midtown sweatshirt you had stolen ages ago.

“What are you doing?” You laughed as he pushed the clothes into your hands before turning his back to you so you could get dressed.

“Tik tok, Y/N,” he sang, waiting patiently for you to finish getting dressed. He knew you were done when you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back and just inhaling his scent.

“Can’t we just stay in, Peter? Seriously, I don’t need anything big.” You argued quietly, nuzzling into him more.

Peter turned around in your arms and kissed your head, playing with the ends of your freshly brushed hair. He just swayed with you for a minute before he shook his head.

“Nope. My special girl deserves a special day. Come on, you’ll love it, Y/N. Trust me…” Peter said, giving you sweet puppy eyes. You could never say no to those eyes. Not really.

“Fine, I trust you Peter. But promise we can just come here and watch Lilo and Stitch at the end of the day?” You asked him, looping your arms around his neck.

Peter gave you an Eskimo kiss, nudging his nose against yours.

“It’s on the plan, angel. I promise. We’ll have cuddles and movies later.” Peter assured you, pressing his lips against yours quickly. “Now are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” You agreed finally, grabbing your phone and keys, slipping each of them into their normal pockets.

Peter laced his fingers with yours as he led you out of your apartment and down to his car, helping you into the passenger seat before climbing into his side. He subconsciously reached over and buckled your seatbelt before giving you a sheepish look of apology. He knew you didn’t like it when he did that. Sure you thought it was cute that he was worried about your safety, but it borderlined him being overly worried and protective.

But today it didn’t seem to bother you. In fact, you smiled at him and just shook your head in amusement, which made Peter’s face brighten as well. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove to the first location of the day. Breakfast. He watched as you began bouncing in your seat when you realized where he was pulling into.

IHOP.

You absolutely loved the place, but you hardly ever got to go. And Peter clearly knew you if this was where he was taking you for breakfast. He once again led you inside and you all took your seats.

“Come on Peter, tell me what else you have up your sleeve for today?” You asked him, leaning across the table to talk. You batted your eyelashes at him, hoping he might tell you what else he had planned.

“Nope, it’s a surprise, Jellybean,” Peter grinned. He wasn’t usually good at keeping secrets but he was determined to make sure he didn’t let a single thing slip.

Before you knew it you two had been there for two hours, laughing and talking and teasing. You were sure you could have sat longer but Peter had someplace else for you to go and began to usher you out.

You waited patiently in the car as Peter drove, his hand returning to it’s spot on your thigh, the other controlling the wheel. You bit your lip as you looked at him, hoping your stare down might get him to crack. It didn’t.

This drive was a little longer than the first one, so you knew you weren’t headed back to either of your places.

“Peter, where are we going?” You whined quietly, hating surprises. But you trusted Peter.

“You will see. Jeez, be patient, Angel,” Peter laughed quietly, squeezing your thigh gently.

You tried for a while longer to get it out of him but ultimately gave up, leaning your head against the window to watch the buildings passing by. It was thirty minutes later when Peter told you to close your eyes.

With an amused smile you placed your hands over your eyes, waiting patiently for Peter to park the car, come around to your side and help you out. He then led you around while making sure your eyes were closed. Peter was so excited to see your reaction. He had gotten help from Mr. Stark for this one, so he really hoped you would like it.

You two eventually stopped and Peter moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Open your eyes.” He whispered to you.

So you did.

You looked around and your jaw dropped when you saw the large Broadway sign. He had brought you to Broadway Theatre. And when you glanced down he was holding two tickets for Wicked. You turned your head to share your look of shock and happiness with him. You had wanted to go to a Broadway show for so long, and Peter had made it happen.

“Peter… how?” You asked him, turning in his arms with teary eyes.

“Mr. Stark helped me get really good tickets. He also… may have paid for them to run the show tonight.” Peter explained quietly.

“You got… Tony Stark to pay to run Wicked on my birthday for me?” You asked incredulously.

“Of course I did. Do you like it?” Peter asked.

“Like it? Peter this is literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it.” You said before throwing your arms around him.

The show lasted for around two hours, and you were on the edge of your seat the entire time. Peter thought it was cute how into the musical you were, and he found himself spacing out to stare at you for chunks of the performance. He wouldn’t admit that if you asked though.

The performance was over in a flash, and you were both disappointed and invigorated because of it. It only had just ended yet you wanted to watch it again and again. Peter had made a good choice.

“Thank you for such a wonderful day.” You murmured to him as you walked out of the theater. “You’re welcome, jellybean, but the day is far from over.” He grinned.

“What do you mean?” You asked, surprised that he had more planned.

“I mean it’s time to get back in the car. And don’t worry, the next part has more standing up and walking around.” He told you as you two headed to the car.

“Peter, I really don’t need anything else.” You tried to tell him.

“Come on, you’ll love it…” Peter said, giving you puppy eyes. “Please?”

“Fine.” You sighed. He had seemed to put a lot of effort into it all so you didn’t want to ruin it. “But then can we just go home?”

“Yes. Scout’s honor after this last place we will watch movies and cuddle.”

“You weren’t a scout.” You reminded him with a smile.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/N.” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows. It made you laugh as he pulled onto the road once more, taking you to your last mystery location.

It was a 40 minute drive.

It was long and you were already sick of sitting in this car, but every time you whined like a child asking if you were there yet, Peter would only laugh and tell you that you were ‘getting close love.’

Once again when you were in the final stretch, Peter told you to close your eyes so he could properly surprise you. Much in the same fashion as earlier, Peter helped you out of the car and began to walk you along. Only this time you could somewhat hear where you were going.

“Peter… are we at Coney Island?” You asked him. Your eyes were still covered so you couldn’t see the pout and puppy eyes Peter gave you. He uncovered your eyes since you had guessed.

“Yes… you ruined your own surprise you know.” Peter told you, kissing the tip of your nose.

You giggled, shaking your head as you threw your arms around him. He really was probably the sweetest and best boyfriend you could ever even dream of.

“I know. It’s not my fault I have ears though.” You pointed out, pulling him into another hug.

“Yeah, but still…” Peter whined.

Eventually the boy gave up on the argument and pulled you into the park. The first thing he tugged you to was the swinging chairs, knowing it would give you two a great view of everything around. And despite the line, you two were able to get right on, another compliment of Mr. Stark. It was that way with everything. You had unlimited rides and unlimited games. Nothing could be better, except maybe just being home, cuddling with Peter.

Next you chose to play some of the carnival games that were everywhere, after Peter begged you to stop for cotton candy. And of course you had agreed, only you chose to steal from his rather than get your own.It was a whirlwind and before you knew it, hours had passed by in the blink of an eye, leaving you and Peter thoroughly tired out from your fun. It meant it was time to go, even if Peter was disappointed he hadn’t won you anything — rather, you won him a stuffed dog you two agreed to share custody of.

Before you two could leave, you pulled Peter into a photobooth, wanting to have some memento of the evening. But finally it was time to go home, and this time Peter told you he was headed to his place for one last surprise.

Your leg was bouncing with anticipation as you waited for him to get to his place. What more could this boy possibly have up his sleeve?

It turned out, Peter had set up the sweetest little fort in the middle of his living room. Aunt May was nowhere in sight and it just left the two of you. He handed you a little cupcake with a candle on it.

“Happy Birthday, Jellybean.” Peter smiled, kissing you softly. “Let’s watch some movies.”

You both walked over to his fort, getting rid of your shoes and climbing in. You settled between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you ate your chocolate cupcake.

“What was your favorite part of the day?” Peter asked you eventually, after settling on Lilo and Stitch. He tried to fight for Rapunzel, but it was your birthday so of course he lost. Not that he didn’t usually lose that fight.

“Hmm, you know what? This is my favorite part.” You replied quietly.

Peter frowned, surprised and confused by your answer. “Really? But we do this all the time.” He said, knowing this wasn’t new or special.

“I know. But that’s what makes it great. All I need is you and some Disney movies and I’m happy. Everything else was great… but this is my favorite place to be.” You admitted to him. There was nothing better than cuddles and movies with Peter.

“Oh…” he murmured, suddenly feeling shy as his cheeks went 

“I love you Peter… You were all I needed to make today special.” You whispered, twisting in his arms so you could kiss him.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Peter smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Happy birthday, angel.”

[starryeyxdmckinnon]

REMUS & MARY’S BIRTHDAY PARTY PART 1

dates ooc rping: 13/03/2021 - 15/03/2021

date ic: Saturday 12/03/1983

discord group thread with: @luhpxns @macmary @padfoot-chaos @peterpxttigrew @suchadorcas @oh-evans @jamspctter @starryeyxdmckinnon

summary so far (to be continued)

location: Marauders apartment, fun chaos and drinking games. Awkward questions left lingering silences numbed by alcoholic beverages. Spin the bottle ensues with a Kiss, Question or Drink scenarios. Remus and Sirius kiss, Peter and Remus shot duel, Sirius and Marlene slip to the bathroom for an almost kiss, while Potter shamelessly flirts with Lily. Dorcas reminisces on favourite songs and Mary worries over their questions during spin the bottle.  

Marlene McKinnon 

Wine glass in one hand and wand in the other, Marlene absently sipping with gentle flicks of her wand as she strung up some bunting for more decorations. "How long has it been?" The witch called over her shoulder and light quirk of an eye brow, asking for a time check on Remus and Mary's location. "We should have confiscated their wands and keys so atleast we'd have some warning. Anyone fancy volunteering to run after them to give a loud warning of arrival? A howl, a screech, saying how beautiful we all look tonight?" A small smirk pulling onto her features before she added, catching one of her friends with a bottle of liquor in their hand. "Hey not so fast-" She asked with a charming warm smile pulling onto her features as she held out her wine glass for more alcohol.

Lily Evans 

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Lily crooned, topping up Marlene's glass. "We all know I can't go, I'm so shite with surprises." Lily's lack of a poker face unfortunately made her possibly the worst liar in the room. "They should be round any minute- what if we told them there's a fire so they've got to run up?" An awful idea, but she'd probably had a little too much to drink already. "If they don't hurry, I'm going to be absolutely sloshed by the time they get here," she groaned.

Sirius Black 

“Red, we’d all love to see you sloshed so don’t tempt me.” Sirius had a bottle of his own in his hand and used it to pour just a little bit extra into Lily’s drink. “Remus is a creature of habit. He’s never spent longer than half an hour at the shop so they’ll be back any minute now - just trust me.” He took a long swig of his own concoction, glancing between the two women. “Until then — shots? And just so you know that wasn’t really a question, it was more a warning that I’m about to pour you both shots regardless of what you say.”

James Potter

James quickly made his way over beside Lily and jokingly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "A sloshed Lily at a surprise party sounds like the best surprise," laughing he looked over to Sirius. "We got this all planned down to a T! He won't expect a single thing, I would be surprised if it doesn't throw him off his rocker," he let go of Lily moving to his best friends side. "Don't have to tell me twice Padfoot, shots sound amazing, do you guys want any?" He looked over to Marlene and Lily set on this being an amazing time with good friends.

Dorcas Meadowes

Doe giggled as the last of her decorations went into place finishing her fire whiskey. "There's always a refill here." With a flick of her wand she raised her bottle and refilled her glass. "Just happy to vibe." She smiled to herself, propping herself up in the corner. Keeping this a secret had been hard but also worth it and she needed to turn off her brain every now and then.

Marlene McKinnon 

Marlene couldn't help but draw her eyes briefly away from James and Lily as he looped his arm around her. It shouldn't have bothered her, it was years ago it didn't matter. Still, how could she say it didn't sting even now when the person who'd supposed to love you for five years loved your best friend all along instead. She was definately going to need another drink to deal with that. An easy warm smile pulling onto her features the witch went back to stringing up last minute decorations with a light tilt of her head. "Do I want a shot? Do you even have to ask? I'll take two, maybe three. Unless you don't think you can keep up?" The witch smirked, a challenging quirk of an eye brow directed in Sirius' direction.

Sirius Black 

Sirius shared a grin with James because they both knew where this narrative led. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence to find the pair suggesting shots at a party, and that more often than not led to chaos. “I’ve got a selection for you beautiful people - wizard or muggle alcohol? Strong or extra strong? Are you weak enough to need a mixer?” He stood there amongst his various bottles as if he was some sort of bartender, but the grin was too mischievous to be professional. His eye caught Marlene’s as she looked in his direction. “And you’re getting doubles.”

Marlene McKinnon 

"Trying to get me drunk Black?" The witch questioned with a smirk and quirk of an eye brow before she finished stringing up the last of the decoration. "Now you-" Marlene spoke turning to point lightly at her room mate, pausing only momentarily to link her arms with Lily's. "-firewhiskey. You'll be dancing ontop of the tables tonight if I have anything to say about it."

Dorcas Meadowes 

"GUYS HOLD UP!!" She spoke loud enough for everyone to hear her jumping up quickly. She paused wrinkling her nose to make sure. Her voice dropped and she nodded. "They're coming. They're here." Now she perked up a little more excited knowing they were right outside.

James Potter 

James glanced at Sirius with a look of complete excitement. "Hide! Or you won't get shots," he mock threatened quickly swishing his wand so the lights began turning off.

Remus Lupin 

“Now I know that Sirius and James like a drink but this is a bit excessive.” Raising the two bags up toward Mary he laughed. “Who needs this much beer? Apparently it was just to stock up but they look like they’re stocking up for the apocalypse.” Juggling the bags in his hands, Remus attempted to dig a hand in his pocket to get the house key out of it. “Mary can you get the key out my pocket please? I can’t reach it with all the beers.” @Mary Macdonald

Mary Macdonald 

❛   i  think  time  has  proven  that  they  can  each  handle  their  drink  fairly  well,   sirius  more  so  but  perhaps  they're  just  planning  on  going  completely  balls  to  walls  for  the  occasion.   ❜    mary adds,   looking down at the two bags with playful dismay,   tutting quietly.   unable to keep the smile from their lips.   in truth,   they couldn't talk.   they'd always been one for taking things a step too far on occasion too.   ❛   no  problemo,   birthday  boy.   ❜   moving to reach into his jacket's pocket,   their fingers wriggle around a moment before taking it between their fingers.   going right ahead and unlocking the door for him too,   pushing it open for them both,   only to be met with an incredibly dark,   lonely looking flat...

Remus Lupin 

“You’re a good egg, birthday pal.” Remus watched as Mary reached their hand into his jacket pocket and opened up the front door, walking in ahead of him into complete darkness. “Have we had a black out or something?” Remus asked, standing in the dark front room with the bags in his hand. “Stick a light on will you Mary.”

Sirius Black

Mary didn’t have a chance to put a light on, because all of a sudden the flat was illuminated with bewitched lights and the smiling faces of their friends who all stood around with drinks in their hands. “Happy birthday, you old gits!” Sirius shouted, taking it upon himself to walk over and push pre-prepared, obnoxiously strong drinks into both of their hands. “Happy birthday.” He repeated. “Are you surprised? Down those. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

Remus Lupin 

Remus blinked twice, dropping the bags to the floor as the room became illuminated. The first thing he noticed was the faces of all the people he loved staring back at him and Mary, big smiles on their faces and drinks in their hand. Remus was deeply touched, more than any of them could ever really know but it wasn’t very Marauder to cry at your joint birthday party. “You fuckers.” Remus laughed as Sirius pushed a drink into their hands. “I have to say I didn’t suspect anything, I just thought you and James wanted to get plastered in the front room. This is amazing. Honestly, thank you.”(edited)

James Potter 

James let out a loud cheer alongside a surprise snatching a shot from the ones Sirius had made for himself. "Hey! Guys!" He took three shot glasses over to Doe, Marlene and Lily. "The promised shots, and Marlene yes I can count but right now I can only carry so many," he sassed before running over to Remus. "Happy birthday bud, yeah I definitely wouldn't want to get plastered with everyone else. Also Mary, happy birthday are you also surprised?"

Mary Macdonald 

mary was just as taken aback.   this was really the last thing they had been expecting to come from today and yet,   it wasn't unlike their friends at all.   so much so that they really should have been expecting this.   a bright smile spreading across mary's lips as they take in the sight...   all their friends together,   their found family gathered in the living room celebrating their birthdays.   ❛   well  shit!   ❜   they cried,   exchanging the keys in their hand for an unspecified drink from sirius,   ❛   you  lot  are  fucking  amazing,   and  i  love  each  and  every  one  of  you  so  much!   ❜   mary grinned,   eyeing the drink.   really,   it was all happening so fast,   that within an instant,   the drink was downed without another word said.   they had catching up to do,   didn't they?   ❛   yeah,   i'm  surprised!   i  was  surprised  way  back  when  you  guys  wanted  me  to  join  in  on  your  birthday drinks  for  remus...  but  this?   this  is...   kinda,   truly  incredible!   ❜

Lily Evans 

"Happy birthday, love," Lily ran for her best friend, throwing her arms around Mary and squeezed them about as tight as she could before moving on to hug Remus. "Love you both endlessly. Now drink that," she motioned to the drinks in their hands before grabbing her own shot from James. "Black is right, you're both massively behind."

Marlene McKinnon 

A wide warm smile pulled onto the corners of her lips at the sight of the pair. "Happy Birthday-" The witch called setting her drink down so she could go and loop her arms tightly around Mary first, planting a kiss on their cheek before doing exactly the same to Remus as she stepped back to look at the pair. Thumb moving up to rub a bit of lipstick off Mary's cheek with a small oops. "And as your best friends who love and adore you both, that it truly is our duty and really our honor to make sure you have a truly terrible hang over come tomorrow morning." Marlene spoke sarcastically a smirk pulling at the edge of her features. "So- drink up both of you-" The witch paused to nudge Remus lightly as she looked down at his drink before adding: "There will be shots in the kitchen when you've finished that."

Remus Lupin 

“Jesus of course there will be.” Remus laughed, watching Mary down their drink like a trooper. “You legend MacDonald, you’re showing me up now.” Exchanging a grin with Sirius, Remus downed the drink. It tasted like goblin’s piss and burned the back of his throat as it snaked it’s way down. “Black that’s actually vile, whatever you’ve mixed in there should be registered.” He replied with a laugh and a slight cough. “No but really guys. Thank you.” Grabbing two of the beers out of the box, he opened one with the other and passed one to Mary before signalling for James to throw him the bottle opener for his own one. “Happy Birthday Mary. Can’t wait to not remember it with you.” Raising his beer in the air toward them he clinked it against their’s.

James Potter 

James never downed beer as fast as he did shots of hard liquor. He sipped at it, letting the drink make him warm. With a soft sigh he smiled. "I'm happy to be of service for the two of you, so may this be one of the best parties we have," he winked at Remus finally downing half the beer. "I'm gonna annoy someone else -- birthday people, who should I annoy? Other than you two? I also have your gifts don't let me forget."

Sirius Black 

If looks could kill James would be six feet under, because Sirius’s expression could kill a man. “Acting like you’re moving elsewhere - finish the rest of that beer and stop acting like a wuss.” The grin on his face was the one he often wore during the parties he threw. Mischievous, ready to get everybody drunk, and ready to get drunk himself. “You’re all partying in my flat, so i dictate that you all need to be drunker, and that we have a lot of catching up to do because we’ve not all been in the same room since school.”

Remus Lupin 

“Christ that makes me feel old.” Remus remarked, taking a sip of his beer. “What are you drinking anyway Padfoot? You’re doing a lot of talking and not a lot of drinking for someone trying to get everyone drunk.” Remus teased with a smirk.

Sirius Black 

It was a challenge that Sirius had never been able to deny. He and Remus locked eyes, and he lifted his bottle of firewhiskey to his lips and took a very painful few sips. “I’ve drank more than you and Mary combined. Don’t give me that.” He pushed his bottle towards Remus. “Who do you take me for? I’m almost offended.”

Remus Lupin 

“I take you for a fool Padfoot.” Remus joked. “Also yeah of course you’ve had more to drink than me and Mary we’ve just turned up. As the birthday boy I think I order birthday shots because as everyone keeps saying I’ve got catching up to do and apparently you’re a man on a mission.”

James Potter 

James laughed. "Okay, okay, I will stay I have missed you lot an awful bunch," he pouted leaning up against Sirius. "If drunk is what you want -- drunk is what you get as long as my pants stay up unlike at the Yule Ball," James chugged the rest of his beer before moving to do what Remus said and take a shot.

Marlene McKinnon 

Quirking an eye brow as the boys started to get into a competitive spirit, Marlene found her eyes drawing to Lily with a pointed look one that was shared often and simply known as 'Boys'. "Well as delightful as it is to watch this- I think some more drinks are in order. I'm sure I spotted a bottle of giggle water in the kitchen. Lil, do you want to come?" Mar asked with a light quirk of an eye brow as she turned to her flat mate @Lily Evans

James Potter

James laughed. "Okay, okay, I will stay I have missed you lot an awful bunch," he pouted leaning up against Sirius. "If drunk is what you want -- drunk is what you get as long as my pants stay up unlike at the Yule Ball," James chugged the rest of his beer before moving to do what Remus said and take a shot.

Remus Lupin 

“Okay but honestly what happened with the pants situation because I never got any clarity on this?” Remus asked with a chuckle.

Lily Evans 

Lily hopped up and grabbed Marlene's hand. "Yes, let's leave them to their glory day reliving," she teased, pulling her to the kitchen. "Do you think we really got Mary? They looked surprised, but I can never tell with these things." She took a perch on the countertop. @Marlene McKinnon

Remus Lupin 

“Okay but honestly what happened with the pants situation because I never got any clarity on this?” Remus asked with a chuckle.

James Potter

James almost choked on his drink, mainly due to the horrid choice of alcohol Sirius decided to go with. "Snape give me a potion that he kind fo hexed to make my pants fall off. Anti climatic sorry mate."

Remus Lupin 

Remus laughed loudly. “That’s not anti-climactic in the slightest. That’s actually just hilarious.” His gaze flitted to Marlene and Lily for a moment as he watched them go into the kitchen leaving James and Remus in the living room. “The real question I have for you Prongs which can in no way be anti-climactic and an answer is demanded as it’s my birthday is - how was your date the other day? I know it was with Lily but I haven’t been able to catch you and find out how it all went.” @James Potter

James Potter 

James felt his cheeks burn red the minute Remus asked the question he knew he was sure to get anytime soon. Clearing his throat he searched his mind for a way to say how it went to the best of his tipsy ability. "Oh um -- about as well as you would expect? Thought it was decent at first but," James shrugged. "She's different, my charms don't work on her like it does on you guys," he dramatically pouted resorting to joking. "It was nice though." He kept repeating. @Remus Lupin

Lily Evans 

Lily hopped up and grabbed Marlene's hand. "Yes, let's leave them to their glory day reliving," she teased, pulling her to the kitchen. "Do you think we really got Mary? They looked surprised, but I can never tell with these things." She took a perch on the countertop. @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon 

A small scoff fell off the witch's lips at Lily's comment as she gave her best friend's hand a light squeeze. "Clearly they need to get out more." Mar teased as they left the boys to it and headed into the kitchen. "Didn't you see their face? I think we definitely did." Marlene assured with a soft smile as she went to looking in the boys cupboards. "Now what was that muggle drink you said again the other day? Bloody Mary's? What was in that again?" The witch asked with a pondering frown being huffing lightly and pulling out her wand from where she kept it attached to her thigh. "Or we could simply make a batch of punch or cocktails for each? And we can make it as deadly as we desire." Marlene spoke a mischievous grin pulling onto her features. "Mary's we could make sparkle and spell like roses? And Remus' of course, chocolate." @Lily Evans

Remus Lupin

“Well you know how I feel about you Prongs. You’re the love of my life and no dates will change that.” Nodding at James, he took a long sip of his beer and surveyed his friend. Talking about Lily in any way other than a joking one always prompted some kind of awkward response from James, but he didn’t want to make him squirm. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to mate, I’m not in the business of making you sweat a puddle on the rug.” He chuckled. @James Potter

James Potter

James smiled hugging Remus tightly. "No, no you should be able to ask me these things," he nodded knowing whatever kind of awkwardness passed through him at the mention of Lily should be thrown out the window. "Listen mate, it was lovely though -- I found it lovely because she gave me a chance," he poked his chest taking another beer. "And for your second present I'll talk to her tonight." @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin 

Remus was surprised by the sudden display of affection but welcomed it warmly, smiling as he accepted the hug from his friend. “I’m glad you had a nice time mate, whatever happens with you and Lils, you get on so well it’s nice that you’re hanging out more outside of the group so if anything that’s the perfect gift for me.” Although his own love life was as empty as it always had been, Remus loved it when his friends were happy and having fun, living vicariously through them was more than enough for him. “Where did Griezl send you anyway?” @James Potter

James Potter 

James took a deep breath. "A muggle book store opening, it was quaint and so nice -- Remus you need a lover who isn't Sirius," James tapped his chest, the alcohol Sirius kept giving him clearly affecting him. "I think you have my love one hundred percent, I do love you," he smiled softly. "But I love Lily a different way don't tell Marlene," he whispered. @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin 

“I love a good book shop, that’s a perfect first date Prongs.” Remus couldn’t help but smile at James’ comments, being a big fan of both James and Lily, they going on a date had made his February but hearing James say that had possibly made his March as well. “I’ll keep my lips sealed.” He replied with a wink. “I’m shocked and appalled you’ve not asked me who I went on a date with. Thanks for the submit you cheeky sod.” Remus laughed @James Potter

James Potter 

"I wish I asked her and we weren't set up but," James shrugged blushing only slightly. "Who did you go on a date with? Liked my entry," he winked. "Well I had to deal with a weird entry too Remus, we seem to be twins in the sense." @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin 

“I actually told the girl I went on a date with that it screamed James Potter, I only wondered it the other two had a hand in it as well.” Remus replied with a laugh. “Well I actually went on a date with a goddess so I should probably thank you and whoever else had a hand in that because I could never land a girl like that unless someone had engineered it.”

Sirius Black

"We most certainly did." Sirius seemed to appear out of thin air, having been in the kitchen creating all sorts of concoctions he planned to donate to some blissfully unaware souls later on. "We figured you needed a swift kick up the arse before you became a born-again virgin. Who was the lucky lady?" Sirius grinned at his two best friends. "And I'll be grilling you about your date afterwards too so don't think you've gotten off easy, Prongs."

James Potter 

James jumped slightly at Sirius' arrival and let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah Remus! Who did you land, who was this goddess?" He nudged him playfully. "Sirius mate I'll give you the run down now -- it went well but not enough to land the elusive Lily Evans," he pouted drinking more of his beer. "But sh I care more about Remus right now."

Remus Lupin 

His gaze flitted between Sirius to James and then grinned. “Dahlia Blackwood?” He said questioningly. “I don’t know if you guys know her or not but she’s absolutely stunning, older woman, vampire. Massively out of my league by a long shot. So thanks I guess, date was fun.” Remus didn’t have any confidence when it came to women, but having a pleasant date with someone as beau as Dahlia had definitely helped.

Peter Pettigrew 

Peter managed to turn the key in the door, the keg that he had brought from the Leaky Cauldron firmly at his feet.  He had been on the evening shift at the pub, meaning that he had missed the initial fun of surprising Remus and Mary.  Still though, a keg was sure to make a great addition to their evening.  Pushing open the door, Peter looked around at the sight in front of him. "Oi, you fucking grannies." He called out to his friends in front of him, pushing the keg into the flat with his feet.  "Have you all forgot how to  party without me or something?"

Remus Lupin 

“Ay up here comes trouble.” Remus laughed, looking over at Peter rolling a large silver cylinder into the room. “Wormtail... what the fuck is that?” @Peter Pettigrew

Peter Pettigrew 

Glancing down at the keg at his feet, Peter laughed. “Just a little something something I picked up from work.” He grinned wickedly , stepping into the flat and closing the door behind him.

Sirius Black 

“And this is why you’re my favourite. Life and soul of the party, you are.” Sirius matched Peter’s grin as he clapped his best mate on the shoulder, and then turned his attention on the group as a whole. “What do the rest of you fuckers say to a little drinking game of some sort?”

Lily Evans 

"That sounds like trouble," Lily reappeared from the kitchen, fresh glass in hand, to give Peter a quick side hug. "Would be very seventh year of us. Let's do it."

James Potter 

James looked over to Lily with a bright smile. "You heard the lady, game time!" He took the keg from Peter and brought it over to an area he could easily set it up and have people take drinks easier. "Okay, sit in a circle in the living room?"

Mary Macdonald 

❛   oh  because  this  could  only  end  well...   ❜   mary teased,   quirking a brow in sirius' direction though a bright smile played at the corner of their lips.   particularly upon seeing the closeness of james & lily this evening.   ❛   what  we  playing  then,   lovers?     ❜   mary asks,  moving to sit on one of the marauders' sofas,   taking a sip of their drink as they awaited the game to begin.

Dorcas Meadowes 

With everyone gathering up, Doe sat down, cross legged on the floor, refilling her glass again just in case a soft smirk on her face. "Maybe I should keep a count on the number of bad decisions made tonight."

Marlene McKinnon 

"Life and soul of the party umm and we're not here?" Marlene hummed with a light quirk of an eye brow as she came out from the kitchen. "-I feel personally offended. You deserve atleast two shots for that-" The witch spoke sarcastically, before taking a sip of the new drink in her hand only to then notice Peter and the keg. "Well Merlin alive- I stand corrected. It's a hero himself baring gifts-" The witch spoke with a smirk as she raised her glass briefly to Peter before joining Mary on the couch. "Doe darling I wouldn't waste your ink, I don't think even your quill could write fast enough to keep that tally." Marlene commented before taking another sip of her drink. "What about spin the bottle? That was always a seventh year favourite wasn't it?"

Lily Evans 

Lily settled on the floor next to Doe, leaning her head on her friend's shoulder. "More like a fourth year favorite, Marley." She would normally be  apprehensive- but she'd already drank enough that this seemed like a phenomenal idea. "Your call, birthday friends!" she motioned towards Remus and Mary.

James Potter 

James nodded in agreement. "The birthday twins should go first, in turn and in choice of game," James looked over to both Remus and Mary, smiling like a fool.

Dorcas Meadowes 

"I'll drink to that, 'Lene." She laughed  before taking a sip for fun. It was veryctrue there would far too many shenanigans to document and most of them were likely to happen to the girl sat next to her. "Just let me know if I need to give you some space Lil', okay?" She teased.

Remus Lupin 

Narrowing his eyes Remus looked at Mary, trying to gage their reaction. A small grin played upon his lips. This was only going to end badly but maybe after all of the pressure they’d been under recently, all the drama, all the death this was that they needed. “I’m down if you are Mary.” Remus didn’t feel like wearing his sensible hat today. @Mary Macdonald

Mary Macdonald 

looking to remus,   they shrug playfully.  feigning indifference.   quite sure that no matter the game it would end in just as much chaos.   fun chaos.   fun birthday chaos.   ❛   of  course  i  fucking  am!   ❜   cheers mary in response,   raising their glass to in fact,   their smile only growing,   ❛   bring on the fourth year nostalgia then...   as lily so beautifully pointed out.   ❜

Sirius Black 

“Now it’s a fuckin’ party.” Sirius took his place on the arm of the sofa next to where Marlene sat. The night was about to get messy and he was very okay with that. After all, what’s a party without a bit of chaos? Being the selfless man he was, Sirius silently nominated himself to provide the bottle the game would need so he raised it to his lips, chugged the seven or so mouthfuls it had left, and then dropped it onto the wooden floor. “Go on then you two, who’s up first?”

James Potter 

James smirked at his friend and without a doubt -- and in true James fashion inserting himself in a conversation that he wasn't in truly at the moment. A good bit of fun and chaos was the best look for him. "I vote Mary, since they seems the most confident," he smirked. @Mary Macdonald

Mary Macdonald 

hearing james' words,   mary puts their hands under their chin,   elbows out, showing off proudly as if the drink hadn't already gone straight to their head.   obliging,   they reach forward for the bottle sirius had put down,   flicking it with the tip of their finger,   causing it to jump to life,   spinning wildly for a few,   tense moments before finally landing on @James Potter.   the very man who'd just put them forward no less!   ❛   well,   well,   well...   what  will  it  be,   prongs?   kiss,   drink  or  question?   ❜   they ask,   wiggling their dark brows deviously.

James Potter 

James looked a bit shocked and surprised, just his luck it would be him who got chosen after throwing them under the bus. He hid the shock with a dramatic thinking session. "I'm going to be daring and choose question," he smiled knowing full well it would bite him in the ass. @Mary Macdonald

Mary Macdonald 

daring was one word for it.   stupid might have been another.   particularly when there was already one,   rather big question mary had regarding him.   feigning similar consideration over what it was they'd say next,   despite knowing very well what it was they were going to ask,   mary attempted their best,   well-meaning smile in spite of the drink veiling what might have been better judgement.   hoping whatever tumbled from their lips next wouldn't be damaging,   instead...   rather motivating?

❛   okay,   so...    how  are  your  feelings  for  lily  doing?   ❜ @James Potter

James Potter

James felt his heart skip a beat, he knew that question was coming he couldn't-- and shouldn't have been surprised. And he was sure his blank stare towards Mary's direction didn't help. He was tipsy but it wasn't enough for a question like this, he knew he didn't choose drink but he downed a cup hoping it would be easier to answer. It didn't help that Marlene was right there and so was Lily -- the person in question. "They're good," he forced a smile. "Friends -- and good ones -- and yeah, good." He knew his face was red and he knew that was going to be painful. @Mary Macdonald

Sirius Black 

Sirius felt the tension as soon as the question was asked - everyone did. It seemed the only two people unaware of Lily and James’ feelings for each other were themselves. He felt for his best mate, he really did - he knew how uncomfortable he must be, so Sirius barked a loud laugh. “Well it’s definitely a step up from being on the scary end of Red’s hexes, isn’t it?” He joked. Laugh the situation off, always a good method. “Lily can be pretty fuckin’ scary when she wants to be. Quite fit, really.”

Mary Macdonald 

mary could see plainly in his face that he had....  not been expecting that.   perhaps it'd been too much for the very first round of this game and yet,   they'd hoped,   in all their hopeless romantic glory,   that he'd take the opportunity to confess his love or...   something at least,   resembling that.   but perhaps,   just perhaps...   being sat around a bottle,   in his joint flat's living room,   in front of his ex was not a prime love confession setting.   ❛  i'm  glad  to  hear  it!    ❜   they agree,   as if that had been the answer they'd been waiting to hear.   it wasn't.   playing it off cooly,   they offer up a smile,   shaky...   if not from the drink than from the tension you could now cut with a knife.   ❛   who's  next  then...   birthday boy,   remus?   ❜

Marlene McKinnon 

With her walls already a little down from the several shots of tequila, Marlene wasn't expecting the question to sting and without her usually built sober walls barricading any kind of emotional tells slipping on the topic; it hit more of a sour note than she's ever admit. Marlene felt her jaw tightening ever so slightly as she took a large gulp of fire whiskey from her glass. Figuring if anything, she'd need atleast another round of drinks to sit happily through listening to those kind of questions. "Yeh really good friends." The witch muttered utter her breathe before shaking her head dismissively. "Remus- You're up-" Marlene spoke with the nod towards her friend hoping the quick change of topic could divert attention from Mary's question.

Remus Lupin 

Remus fell quiet as he watched the awkward scene play out in front of him. James and Lily were two of his closest friends, but over the past few weeks after what had happened in October, he and Marlene had become very close as well. Having been with her when they brewed love potions that one night drunk in the kitchen he had a feeling her deeper feelings lied elsewhere but he had no doubt that Mary’s question had stung, although Mary was so kind they won’t have done it on purpose. Taking a long sip of his beer before spinning, Remus reached out to the bottle in the middle and spun it hard. It went round the circle a few times and finally landed on... SIRIUS. “Well well Padfoot.” Remus began, grinning at Sirius wickedly. “Kiss, question or a downing my brother? Sips are for chumps.” @Sirius Black(edited)

Sirius Black 

Sirius was already grinning when the bottle slowed and came to a stop in his direction, and he waggled his eyebrows at Remus. “Is ‘all of the above’ an option?” He asked. There was only one option, really - one clear way to rid the room of any lingering awkwardness, and considering himself as somewhat of a hero, Sirius had no choice. “C’mon then, you sexy piece of meat. Give us a kiss and try not to fall in love with me.” @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin 

He couldn’t contain an eye roll. Classic bloody Sirius. “This is only gonna fuel all those rumours, you do know that right?” Remus questioned before standing up and walking over to Sirius. “Do it quickly, I don’t want Peter and James getting jealous.” @Sirius Black

James Potter 

James saw this as an opportunity to jump back into the groove of things after that question. He could clearly tell Marlene was pained but this was a different conversation for a different time. "Hey Remus, that's my man!" He smirked waiting to see what his friends had done multiple times before in different parties.

Remus Lupin 

“Well apparently he’s mine now.” Remus called behind to his friend. “Kept trying to throw him off but apparently the heart wants what it wants.” He added in a sarcastic tone.

Sirius Black 

“Are they rumours, or are we really in love?” He smirked as he got to his feet. The rumours in question had began years ago but instead of trying to quash them the two boys had their fun with it. Sirius vaguely remembered getting up on the Gryffindor table one breakfast and professing his undying love for Remus in front of the whole school. “Don’t worry lads, there’s plenty to go around.” Sirius grinned, before grabbing Remus’ face between his hands and planting a loud kiss onto his lips. @Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew 

Leaning his back against the couch, Peter laughed loudly  "Don't worry, James darling. We'll get back at them."  He acknowledged by sending a wink in James' direction.  Thoroughly amused by this game, Peter took a swig from his drink.

Remus Lupin 

Allowing his face to be pulled forward and pressed against Sirius’ he felt the kiss be planted on his lips before recoiling in comedic horror. “God you really should use mouthwash Padfoot, would get rid of the dog breath.” He joked before turning back around and sitting down cross legged next to Peter with a laugh. “Think it’s your turn now Wormtail, try beat that display of affection if you can.” @Peter Pettigrew

Peter Pettigrew 

At the mention of dog breath,  Peter snorted.  Times like this reminded him of Hogwarts, when they all could just hang out for the night and have a laugh.  It felt like home.  "If that's what you call a display of affection, I fear for your lovers." He teased, leaning forward to spin the bottle.  "Now, if you don't get your turn now, don't fear. There's enough Peter to go around everyone." Peter reassured with a laugh whilst watching the bottle spin until it landed on @Dorcas Meadowes "Alright, my dear Meadow... What's it gonna be? A kiss, drink or question?"

Dorcas Meadowes 

She laughed at Peter's comment about Sirius, before taking a swig of her drink. It wasn't exactly the best timing as she nearly chocked after the spin landed right on her. Doe pretended to think on the matter although being appalled by one choice and another being a cop out there was only really one option. "Question, please."

Peter Pettigrew 

"Question," Peter repeated to himself as he thought, it definitely wasn't going to be as hard hitting or quite as exciting as Mary's was.  "If you could choose one song to listen to for the rest of your life, what would it be?" @Dorcas Meadowes

Dorcas Meadowes 

At least it was a question she could answer without feeling like the room dropped severaldegrees. "Probably Mr. Blue Sky. Its track one on my most played mixtape. Its one of those thats just great for a mood boost for when you need to dance around the house without caring. So yeah, we'll go with that one."(edited)

Peter Pettigrew 

"That's a class song, Dorcas." Peter nodded, "So, who's next to spin?" Glancing around the circle wiggling his eyebrows. His gaze landing on Marlene, Peter chuckled, "Right, go on Mar, fling that bottle." @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon 

"Well clearly after this game that's the first song we need to play. If we don't end the night with you and Lily dancing on tables, we'll have done you a disservice as your best friends." The witch grinned warmly in Does directly. "Alright alright-" She spoke, shifting from where she was sat on the couch to give the bottle a spin with the tip of her red finger nail. Eyes watching as it spin in a blur only to grind to a slow halt, eyes following the bottles guide to look up none other than Sirius Black himself ( @Sirius Black ). A mischievous smirk pulling onto her lips as she leaned back on the couch, the witch quirked an almost challenging eye brow at the other as she asked: "Well Black,  kiss, question or drink? The drink being atleast three shots of firewhiskey, seems only fair as clearly the forfeit option. So-" The witch paused only momentarily before adding: "What'll it be?"

Sirius Black 

“Is that supposed to be intimidating, three shots of firewhiskey? That’s easy. I’m insulted you think that would deter me.” He snorted. It was a cop out though; there were only 2 real options, and Sirius knew bloody damn well which one he truly wanted to choose. A question would be easy. It was the safer choice. But he was several drinks deep and his better judgment was somewhat lacking, and it was all too easy to give into his innermost desires which, when sober, he pretended didn’t exist. “I don’t trust you not to think up some awful question that makes me regret everything. So...” Sirius felt a smirk tug at his lips as their eyes met. “C’mon then. Come over here.” @Marlene McKinnon

James Potter 

James raised a brow at his friends option, but a part of him was happy that this was the option chosen. He wanted Marlene to be happy, and if it meant snogging his best friend for a bit then it would make him happy.

Marlene McKinnon 

"And how many have you alright had? Three just adds to what you'll inevitably drink later; making you reckless enough for trouble but not so drunk I'm holding your pretty little hair back by the end of the night. Not a pretty sight Black, even for you." The witch spoke with a light smirk and shrug of her shoulders. The questions where already running through Marlene's mind of what chaotic thing she could ask him, because really did she expect him to pick the former? No, not even close. Maybe a part of her didn't want to think he'd pick it, the lingering sober part of her mind which knew it would only lead to some kind of heartache pleaded that he wouldn't. Too hopeful for stolen moments and lingerings glances, was this seriously how she'd pictured their first kiss? No because as much as much as she wanted, Merlin knew she did, the lingering hidden butterflies and tightness of her jaw whenever they accidentally brushed hands left her with a lingering feeling of dread. Feelings she dared not speak out loud or even let herself feel from fear.* It's just a kiss, it doesn't mean a thing*. She had a right mind to tell him if he wanted it to come get it, but she doubted Mary would appreciate them snogging on the couch by them. "Fine- but you're using mouth wash first. I'm not kissing you when you've got dog breath." The witch spoke a smirk pulling onto her lips and matching his as she pushed herself up off the couch and downed the rest of her drink. "Come on Black, bathroom." @Sirius Black

Marlene McKinnon 

Moving over and grabbing Sirius' hand to tug him to the bathroom before he could object, Marlene turned to glance over her shoulder at Lily as she added: "Lily- Your turn to spin, don't have too much fun without us." The witch spoke with a light wink before the pair disappeared @Lily Evans

Lily Evans 

Lily blinked as they walked out, still a little caught up from the bizarre energy in the room, especially from Marlene, after Mary's question to James. Filing away a mental note to grab her roommate later and figure out whatever that had been, she finished off her drink. "Er, guess we'll leave them to that," she giggled, leaning in to spin the bottle that landed on the birthday boy ( @Remus Lupin ). "Come on then, you know the rules. Which one?"

Remus Lupin 

He had predicted chaos from playing their, as Lily had quite rightly said, fourth year favourite- but Marlene and Sirius in the bathroom chugging mouthwash and getting off wasn’t something he’d considered when Peter had rolled in with a keg that evening. Brown eyes watched Marlene drag his former kissing partner out of the room, a small smirk spreading over his face before his gaze flittered to Lily who had spun him in the game. “Give me your best question Lily, but I’m prepared to do a birthday shot in the event you can’t think of anything.” He replied, taking a long sip of his beer. @Lily Evans

Marlene McKinnon 

"And how many have you alright had? Three just adds to what you'll inevitably drink later; making you reckless enough for trouble but not so drunk I'm holding your pretty little hair back by the end of the night. Not a pretty sight Black, even for you." The witch spoke with a light smirk and shrug of her shoulders. The questions where already running through Marlene's mind of what chaotic thing she could ask him, because really did she expect him to pick the former? No, not even close. Maybe a part of her didn't want to think he'd pick it, the lingering sober part of her mind which knew it would only lead to some kind of heartache pleaded that he wouldn't. Too hopeful for stolen moments and lingerings glances, was this seriously how she'd pictured their first kiss? No because as much as much as she wanted, Merlin knew she did, the lingering hidden butterflies and tightness of her jaw whenever they accidentally brushed hands left her with a lingering feeling of dread. Feelings she dared not speak out loud or even let herself feel from fear.* It's just a kiss, it doesn't mean a thing*. She had a right mind to tell him if he wanted it to come get it, but she doubted Mary would appreciate them snogging on the couch by them. "Fine- but you're using mouth wash first. I'm not kissing you when you've got dog breath." The witch spoke a smirk pulling onto her lips and matching his as she pushed herself up off the couch and downed the rest of her drink. "Come on Black, bathroom." @Sirius Black

Sirius Black 

If he'd had any less than a stupid amount of alcohol Sirius would have known it was a bad idea and almost certainly wouldn't have chosen to go down that route. This sort of behaviour with friends had gotten him into trouble more than once in the past, and not only that, whatever small part of his brain that remained sensible knew that his own feelings would suffer the consequences of waking up tomorrow remembering everything that happened and having to laugh it off as if it was nothing. Not to mention the fact that Marlene, as much as he considered her to be his own best mate, was still his brother's ex-girlfriend. Messy didn't begin to cover it. But he was drunk, and none of those things seemed to matter as he got up, waggled his eyebrows at Remus over his shoulder, and followed Marlene from the living room. "What is all this bollocks about dog breath? My breath is just fine. A little tequila-y, sure, but I've never had any complaints before tonight." He mirrored her smirk. "We both know this is just your little tactic to get me alone. Cute, McKinnon."  @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon 

Snorting lightly with a light roll of her eyes, the witch quirked an eye brow lightly up in his direction as she asked: "You really think I'm going to trust your word over Remus when he's got the lingering Black lips to prove it? I think I trust his judgement more than yours." Marlene stately simply a small smirk gracing her lips. "Please, in your wet dreams Black. Besides if it was a tactic, I can think of alot better ways than that."  Granted maybe internally a part of her didn't exactly want to kiss him in front of everyone else. Particularly Potter. Even if James had never loved her at all when they were together and was doe eyed for Lily the whole time, seeing an ex kiss your best friend wasn't exactly on the top of her fun things to see and Marlene highly doubted it was on his either. "They were all probably too distracted by the hair to notice the breath." Marlene spoke sarcastically with a grin as she pushed open the bathroom door with her hip and holding it open for him. "Ladies first-" @Sirius Black

James Potter 

James had expected a kiss, and then it was over. But now that it essentially was Marlene leading him into the bathroom, he had a rock in the pit of his stomach. A part of him that did love her didn't like the idea of her dragging his best friend off into the bathroom. But he knew the slight jealousy he felt was the product of something that wouldn't have been fair to Marlene. He chose instead to sip at his drink and be very interested in what Lily was going to ask Remus.

Sirius Black 

"You bring up my hair a lot, have you ever noticed that?" Sirius asked casually. Marlene opened the door and as he passed he nodded his head. "Why thank you, kind sir." He beelined for the mirrored cupboard above the sink and pulled it open; one side was perfectly tidy and organised, and the chaotic mess that was the bottom shelf, belonged to him. He plucked out Peter's mouthwash (which he'd been using for weeks rather than buy his own), turned around, and gave it a little shake in Marlene's direction. "Happy now?" Sirius twisted off its cap, taking a swig into his mouth and swishing it around for a moment. When he spat it out his nose wrinkled. "Mouthwash and whisky is not a good combo, I'll tell you that for fuckin' free. The things I do for you, McKinnon. I treat you better than I've treated any other woman."  @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon

"Umhm?" The witch hummed, brows furrowing slightly. "What can I say, must be jealous of it." Marlene spoke simply, dismissing it with a light shake of her head putting it simply down to her being drunk. "Who said chivalry is dead-" Marlene spoke with an amused grin and let the door swing ajar as she moved to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "Not too late to back out Black- those three shots of whiskey are still on the table. And truly, I feel honored- maybe you should use mouthwash and whisky more often I'm sure they'd appreciate it. You might even get more knocking on your door than you do already." Shrugging one shoulder, her eyes flickered briefly around the boys bathroom for a moment just so her eyes didn't have to meet his. Though as the lingering reality started to dawn on the Scottish born witch, despite how much she'd already had to drink even she'd couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that this wasn't a good idea. "Sirius-" Marlene spoke voicing going a  little quieter, features dimming ever so slightly as she looked over at him. There was a part of her that just wanted to throw caution to the wind. To kiss him and pretend that nothing else mattered and pretend that it wouldn't cause a turmoil in her chest come morning. No matter how drunk she was it was, still him and not just another stranger she could easily forget.  But the very person she'd been actively trying to pretend didn't she didn't care for in anything but a romantic sense. She wanted to, she really did, to reach her hand for his and close the distance but instead she found herself giving a small shake of her head as her shoulders sunk. "You know we shouldn't.. right?"  @Sirius Black

Remus Lupin 

He had predicted chaos from playing their, as Lily had quite rightly said, fourth year favourite- but Marlene and Sirius in the bathroom chugging mouthwash and getting off wasn’t something he’d considered when Peter had rolled in with a keg that evening. Brown eyes watched Marlene drag his former kissing partner out of the room, a small smirk spreading over his face before his gaze flittered to Lily who had spun him in the game. “Give me your best question Lily, but I’m prepared to do a birthday shot in the event you can’t think of anything.” He replied, taking a long sip of his beer. @Lily Evans

Lily Evans

"Oh, don't you worry love. I'm sure I can dig something out," Lily grabbed a handle of Merlin-knows-what and refilled her glass, running through her available options. "Alright. If you could swap lives with anyone in the room- or anyone in the bathroom," she snorted, "who would it be? And why, you have to say why or it's a cop out," she insisted. @Remus Lupin

Marlene McKinnon 

"Umhm?" The witch hummed, brows furrowing slightly. "What can I say, must be jealous of it." Marlene spoke simply, dismissing it with a light shake of her head putting it simply down to her being drunk. "Who said chivalry is dead-" Marlene spoke with an amused grin and let the door swing ajar as she moved to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "Not too late to back out Black- those three shots of whiskey are still on the table. And truly, I feel honored- maybe you should use mouthwash and whisky more often I'm sure they'd appreciate it. You might even get more knocking on your door than you do already." Shrugging one shoulder, her eyes flickered briefly around the boys bathroom for a moment just so her eyes didn't have to meet his. Though as the lingering reality started to dawn on the Scottish born witch, despite how much she'd already had to drink even she'd couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that this wasn't a good idea. "Sirius-" Marlene spoke voicing going a  little quieter, features dimming ever so slightly as she looked over at him. There was a part of her that just wanted to throw caution to the wind. To kiss him and pretend that nothing else mattered and pretend that it wouldn't cause a turmoil in her chest come morning. No matter how drunk she was it was, still him and not just another stranger she could easily forget.  But the very person she'd been actively trying to pretend didn't she didn't care for in anything but a romantic sense. She wanted to, she really did, to reach her hand for his and close the distance but instead she found herself giving a small shake of her head as her shoulders sunk. "You know we shouldn't.. right?"  @Sirius Black

Sirius Black 

The second she uttered his name in that softer voice, he knew all pretence was over and they couldn’t ignore their reason for being alone in the bathroom anymore. With no more jokes to hide behind the tension seemed to double and he turned, leaning against the sink and crossing both arms across his chest. “I know we shouldn’t.” He sighed. It was hard not to sound ever so slightly disappointed, as hard as he tried. “It’s messy. I don’t think James would have a problem but...” he drifted off slowly, not quite sure why it was a bad idea. Or, at least, not having an answer that he could say to her face. “It’s a game and it doesn’t mean anything, but... yeah, you’re right.” He glanced around the room for a silent moment until their eyes met again. “I don’t know about you though, but I don’t want any more shots. And if I have to do them then you’re doing them with me.”  @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon 

"I know.." Marlene sighed lightly as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The words shouldn't have stung, but the simple 'it doesn't mean anything' struck a small nerve. And maybe that was one of her problems; she knew it wouldn't have been as simple to process. If it was Mary, Lily, Peter, Remus, Doe- any would have been simpler in Marlene's mind. It would simply be a game and something they could laugh about come dawn because it wouldn't have meant anything. But even she could admit to herself that it wouldn't have been that simple her end with him. The last thing Marlene wanted was to add Sirius and this moment to the list of things she had to lase a fake smile to. "Yeh.. just a game." The witch repeated quietly as she pushed herself up off the bathtub edge, eyes pulling away from his knowing if they lingered too long he very well could just see right through her. "If you don't want anymore, we'll just say I forfeited. You already have minty whiskey breath, seems only fair doesn't it that i take the shots?" Words trying but failing to lighten the situation even if they fell a little flat. She wanted to say for the record she would have, something or anything that could change the situation but her mouth only shut that little bit tighter. "I'll see you back out there okay?" @Sirius Black(edited)

Lily Evans

"Oh, don't you worry love. I'm sure I can dig something out," Lily grabbed a handle of Merlin-knows-what and refilled her glass, running through her available options. "Alright. If you could swap lives with anyone in the room- or anyone in the bathroom," she snorted, "who would it be? And why, you have to say why or it's a cop out," she insisted. @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin 

Looking around the room, Remus debated his options. James- charming, loving family, handsome and wealthy, Lily- beautiful, smart, kind parents, Peter- funny, loyal, could down a pint quicker than anyone he knew, Mary- the kindest person he knew, pure of heart and sweet, Dorcas- brave, fearless, a great friend... He could list amazing qualities for everyone he was friends with, but there was one thing they all had in common, one thing he wanted more than anything else in the world. Normality. Looking down at his beer, he cradled it between two hands, one thumb running over the glass bottle as he tried to find something to see in the brown glass bottle. “I’d trade lives with any of you.” He finally said. “But I wouldn’t let any of you have my life.” He paused, catching sight of his face in the darkness of the television set which sat in the corner of the room. His eyes lingered on the three scars that cut through his face, his trademark. “Think that means I take the shots.” Smiling weakly, he stood up and walked to the kitchen, searching for the bottle of firewhiskey Marlene had left on the counter. Grabbing one of the plastic glasses he and Mary had brought home, he poured a hefty shot re-entered the room and downed it in one just as he heard Sirius and Marlene heading back in. “Who’s next?”(edited)

Sirius Black 

It was a difficult situation, that much was evident, and yet Sirius found himself not minding the heaviness of the air between them. He was normally one to avoid situations where he had to actually had to present as vulnerable in any way, shape or form. But here they were in the silence of the bathroom and the smart idea was to leave it where it currently stood, but he didn’t want to. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to anymore.” He replied. But it was too difficult, and as much as he wanted it, they just couldn’t. “Ladies first.” He said instead as he opened the door and allowed Marlene to leave ahead of him, choosing to divert away from the living room and go outside for a smoke.

James Potter

James frowned slightly as his friends answer. "Remus Lupin I will gladly be you for a week, day or even a whole year," he took a deep breath and held his cup up to Remus. "I love you too much and I get to really see what's beneath those clothes," he winked joking as he downed his drink. "I'll happily spin next?"

Peter Pettigrew

At Lily's question, Peter's eyes scanned around the room. There certainly was a lot going on. First, there was the bombshell question that Mary had thrown James' way and then there was Sirius and Marlene sneaking off into the bathroom.  The introduction of the drinking game had really spiced things up, but Peter wasn't too sure if it was going in the direction that many of them wished. Instead of a buzzing atmosphere, it seemed to be somewhat solemn. And at Remus's next words, Peter's heart dropped into his stomach. This was not meant to be how someone felt on their birthday. He was unable to stop himself from patting Remus on the shoulder, "I don't know what you mean mate, I'd kill to have those silky locks of yours." He tried to lighten the mood, catching a glimpse of how Remus looked at himself in the reflection of their tv.  Peter admired Remus, and hearing his friend's defeat wasn't nice. "You're the best of us, Moony." He reassured before taking another sip of his drink.  His eyes going between Marlene who had just entered and Remus who was standing in the doorway.(edited)

Marlene McKinnon 

His words lingered on Marlene's shoulders and left a ache in her chest. "Sirius-" Marlene tried wanting to touch his shoulder, offer a wamr smile like she normally did something, anything to make the situation seem lighter but nothing came. Instead a simple: "I'll see you later." But she slipped out of the bathroom and back into the living room. But the atmosphere there was equally if not more heavy than the one she'd just left. Having missed the conversation completely, she looked around baffled at everyone's expressions before saying: "Who died?" The witch asked with a quirk of an eye brow only to pause and really look at everyone's expressions with concern. "..What happened?" Before moving to go and find a bottle of fire whiskey, evidently it seemed they all could use some. "And if Golden Boy over there hasn't spun yet he's spinning twice."

Remus Lupin 

A small smile crept upon Remus’ face. “Thanks guys you’re too good to me.” He replied solemnly. Marlene’s voice echoed from behind him as her small figure appeared in the doorway. With a smirk, he held up the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand and flashed it towards Marlene. “It’s hairspray Peter.” He remarked, taking a shot of it out of the bottle before passing the bottle back to Marlene and entering into the room and settling down on the sofa. “I think it’s definitely James or Peter’s turn.” No more sad Remus tonight, he thought to himself as he settled in for an evening of fun with his friends.

James Potter

James took the bottle in hand after chugging his cup and spun it watching as it landed on -- Lily Evans.  After Mary's question he just knew this night was going to be something. "Oh okay Evans, what would it be for you? Kiss, question or drink?" He hoped she said kiss. The alcohol making him a lot more confident when it came  to her. @Lily Evans

Marlene McKinnon 

Clearly she'd missed something with Remus, evident with the look in his eyes as she took the bottle of firewhiskey from him. Raising her free hand to squeeze his shoulder lightly and offer a gentle warm smile before he slipped back to the couch. Quirking an eye brow in the general direction of the spin the bottle game, Marlene instead diverted her attention to pouring three shots worth of fire whiskey into her cup with a grimace on her lips at the amount; some forfeit. Though figured it was better to focus on that than whatever answer was about to leave her best friends lips.(edited)

Lily Evans

Lily had never wanted to feel invisible more in her life. She couldn't believe she'd been so thoughtless- what kind of friend was she to make her best friend feel that way on his own birthday? If the energy was off before, she couldn't even describe what it was now. She was tempted to kiss him, and she would have if she thought it would make the room laugh, but she couldn't get Marlene's face from earlier out of her head and her gut said no, that wouldn't make the situation better at all. "Guess I'll take a question." It felt like that was her only option left, as it would seem particularly unfair to dodge a question after her own spin. @James Potter

James Potter 

James knew she wouldn't have taken the kiss, but still it made his heart hurt just a bit. Now he had to think of a question, some small part of him sure she would have chosen either drink or kiss. That part being the stupid part -- at least it wouldn't have to be in front of Marlene. At least he wouldn't have to deal with that again. But also it was James Potter and he never thought through things. "What would it take for you to kiss me?" He smirked like if he had just cracked a code. @Lily Evans

Remus Lupin 

If anything might have improved his birthday that ought to have done it. Leaning back in his seat, Remus exchanged a look with Peter before his eyes began to flit between James to Lily as though he were watching a Wimbledon match. “Wonder what’s gonna go on here.” He whispered quietly to Peter before folding his arms to watch the show. @Peter Pettigrew(edited)

Peter Pettigrew

Peter was not at all expecting that question, especially with the atmosphere that was previously in the room. But at James question, Peter could help but snort.  Listening to Remus as he spoke, Peter chuckled quietly. “I suspect James is gonna get a kick up the arse or his feelings hurt. One or the other.” He replied, taking a sip of his drink. “Either way, we’ll be nursing the wounds.” Amused. @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin

“You’ve got that right.” Remus replied quietly. Reaching into his pocket Remus pulled out his wand and flicked it once, causing two bottles of beer to rise from the box and float towards him and Peter. Doing his bottle top trick, her took the tops off and handed one to Peter. “Let’s see what happens then.” He added, clinking his beer against Peter’s new one. @Peter Pettigrew(edited)

Lily Evans 

She was entirely unsurprised by the vein of the question- it wasn't the first time he'd asked something like that, that seemed designed to make her stutter and blush during a game like this. But maybe he hadn't counted on how much she had to drink, and maybe she didn't know how much she'd had to drink, because if she hadn't been absolutely piss drunk, she probably wouldn't have grinned dangerously, raised a brow, and said "For starters, you could try asking very nicely." @James Potter

Peter Pettigrew 

Taking the cold beer off of Remus, “cheers mate.” Setting the empty bottle on the ground beside him, Peter couldn’t help but let out a joking, “uh-oh” at Lily’s response before leaning back to Remus. “James did always say he liked a dominant lady.” Peter whispered, unable to stop himself from laughing.  @Remus Lupin

Marlene McKinnon 

Both her eye brows raised at Lily's reply, the answer enough for Marlene to finally draw her eyes up from the fire whiskey in her hand to that expression that dancing over her room mates features only to then flicker over to James. Seriously? Was the only thing ringing through her mind as she pushed herself up to go and moved over to Mary. Offering them the bottle of fire whiskey with a small eye brow wiggle  as she settled by their side. Uttering a quiet: "You having fun babe?" As to not disturb from the game. @Mary Macdonald(edited)

Remus Lupin 

“Now where have I heard that before.” Remus replied, his whisper breaking into a laugh as he and Peter began snickering on the sofa. “Firey redheads and dominant ladies are his speciality I’ve heard somewhere.” Remus joked. @Peter Pettigrew(edited)

James Potter 

James shot a glare towards Remus at his comment before clearing his throat and squirming as he stood up straighter. "Okay well, Evans may I please have a kiss?" He used his best posh voice for the first time actually being confident, which wasn't hard for him unless it was towards Lily. He knew it was best not look Marlene’s direction either. @Lily Evans

Mary Macdonald

mary was still planted on the corner of the sofa,   nursing a bottle of prosecco all to themselves and watching the scenes unfold before them with a light grin.   despite james having...   evidently grown in confidence between their question and his own to lily,   mary couldn't deny that they felt bad about calling him out like that.   and putting marlene in that position too.   so much so that turning to answer her question,   mary sighs heavily,   trying desperately not to let it get them down,   particularly in their drunken state.    the mix of emotions would do nothing for them.   ❛   i  feel...   like  i  was  too  harsh  asking  james  about  lily..    ❜   they whisper,   frowning ever so slightly as their words slur,   ❛   i  mean,   they  look  great  now  so,   maybe  it  was  for  the  greater  good  but  no  one  enjoyed  it.   i  can  tell...   ❜  @Marlene McKinnon

Lily Evans 

"Sorry, rules say you only get one question per round. Better try again later," Lily grinned playfully, feeling she already might have pushed it a bit too far with her last answer. She'd always thought the incessant flirting was a joke at her expense, but over the last couple years it'd had started to feel like an in-joke between them. Actually kissing him would ruin it, right? "Besides, I said you could try, not that it would work. Who's up next then?"

James Potter 

James pouted and resorted to sipping his drink. "You bring a fair point, I'll go again?" He joked only to laugh and point at Peter. "I think Wormtail should go next!" @Peter Pettigrew

Remus Lupin 

“Yes come on wormtail liven up the party!” Remus chorused, patting Peter on the back and grinning at him. @Peter Pettigrew

Marlene McKinnon 

"I'm sure it's fine Mar-" The witch assured, offering the wix her perfected faked smile; even if it didn't reach her eyes. Maybe it was for the better that Marlene never told Doe, Mary or Lily the full story of what happened between her and James a few years ago. Of course they'd seen pieces, they were her best friends they were bound to, but only a shaded version. Never enough to allude to everything that had unfolded, if anything right now Marlene was more glad of that, even if in the end it hurt her more.  "They seem fine don't they?" The witch spoke looking from the red head to the raven haired. "I wouldn't worry-" Marlene spoke, squeezing Mary's arm gently hoping it would offer them comfort. "Not on your birthday party atleast- especially when there isn't anything to worry about. If anyone can take it's Potter- trust me okay?" @Mary Macdonald

Remus Lupin 

As the room watched Peter, Remus’ gaze fell on Marlene and Mary who were both settled in on the second sofa facing the game. Marlene’s smile looked like the one she’d offered people recently when they asked her about Halloween, painted on her face like a clown and didn’t match the expression in her eyes. “Mary and Marlene you’re awful quiet!” Remus shouted joyfully, bouncing up from his seat next to Peter and joining them both on their sofa. “Shot race with my two favourite Gryffindors?” He asked. “Loser has to do a dare.” He wasn’t sure if more chaos would ease the situation, but it was always worth a try. @Mary Macdonald @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon 

When Remus inserted himself in the conversation, Marlene couldn't have been more than thankful for the side track away from whatever was happening with Lily and James. "Alright- but you two need to catch up. I'm three shots deeper from not kissing Black and as the two birthday humans here I'm not being drunker than either of you." The witch spoke pointing at both of her friends before pushing herself up and offering them her hands. "Come on then kitchen or we'll be scrubbing alcohol out the furniture again. How abouttt-" The witch hummed a mischievous grin pulling onto her features before she turned to look back at them both. "Flaming shots for you two, then jäger bomb train?" Marly suggested with a wiggle of her fingers, eyebrows and then whole body. @Remus Lupin  @Mary Macdonald

Remus Lupin

“I have another idea.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at Marlene. “If you’re three shots deeper than myself and the lovely Mary, why don’t Mary and I do a shot duel and you can be the judge?” His cousin had taught him the game at his aunt’s wedding in Cardiff over Christmas. “So basically Mary and I stand back to back and take a step forward and then Marlene you have a word you say and then when Mary and I here it we turn around and shot. You call the slowest and you make up a dare.” Leaning forward in his seat, Remus took a long sip of his beer and shrugged. “Or we do the flaming jäger train, drunkest member’s choice Marlene.” @Marlene McKinnon @Mary Macdonald(edited)

James Potter 

James turned his attention to the three -- Marlene, Mary and Remus -- after smiling at Lily like an idiot. He was interested in whatever they were going on about. "A drinking game with Marlene? You're clearly asking to lose."

Remus Lupin 

“Well that remains to be seen if she’s playing or not.” Remus replied, pressing on his knees and standing up. “Marlene’s been drinking a lot longer than myself and Mary so maybe a duel between birthday friends might be the best way to even things up.” @James Potter @Mary Macdonald @Marlene McKinnon. “Are you spinning some time today Wormtail?” Remus teased. @Peter Pettigrew

Peter Pettigrew

“A drinking game? I’d pay to see this.” He leaned forward before waving his hand up to Remus, “alright, alright. keep your knickers on.” Leaning forward to spin the bottle, an even louder laugh falling from his lips as it landed on @Remus Lupin, “Alright, Remus. Smooch, Drink or Question.”

Remus Lupin

“Hmmmmm. I don’t know if I can smooch you so closely after Sirius so Peter I choose drink, and whilst Mary and Marlene decide what they’re doing I challenge you do a shot duel!” As he announced his decision, Remus aimed his hand at Peter and flexed his thumb mimicking him shooting a gun. “Unless you’re chicken.” @Peter Pettigrew

Peter Pettigrew 

Peter raised an eyebrow, “picking Sirius over me? I’ll remember this the next time we run out of milk.” He winked before standing up, “Chicken? Not a fucking chance.” Placing his remaining beer on the table. “Let’s get the shots going.”@Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin 

“Is that a threat Wormtail? Or a promise not to get any more milk?” Remus wasn’t exactly bothered by whatever it was, he’d been the only on buying the toilet roll for about 3 years now. “Marlene! Pour the firewhiskey!” @Marlene McKinnon “Wormtail back to back we stand!” @Peter Pettigrew(edited)

Marlene McKinnon 

“I would like all the records to state that for once in his life James Potter is right and I could drink any of you under a table.” Marlene boasted with a proud smirk lacing on her features despite the alcohol already talking for her. “Right you heard the birthday boy move it-“ The witch spoke, pulling out her wand to give and easy flick and move a table back to give the boys room before two shots laces came gently towards her through the air, firewhiskey poured into both of them before floating in front of the lads. “Right laddie-“ The witch spoke, an ever so slightly Scottish twang coming into her voice like it always did when she was hammered. “I want a fair match, no cheating or you’re answering to Lily. And she’s extra fiery tonight so don’t even try it.” Marlene smirked lightly. “Right boys shots at the ready-“ @Remus Lupin @Peter Pettigrew 

Remus Lupin 

A bright smile flashed over his face as the shots floated into their hands. Grasping his with his right hand, Remus held his left behind his back and prepared to step forward. “What’s the word Marlene? You’re going to have to call out words, each word we step forward then on the buzz word we’ll turn and shot. You call the loser.” @Marlene McKinnon

James Potter 

"No this is for the both of them," James pointed at the two of them knowing Remus had challenged Peter. "You give them hell Marls."

Remus Lupin 

“For impartiality, Prongs why don’t you give Marlene the buzzword.” @James Potter

Marlene McKinnon 

“How about a phrase instead?” The witch questioned with a smirk lacing her features. “And come on Potter you heard the man, buzzword if you please.” @James Potter

Remus Lupin 

“A phrase works fine as well. Bonus points if it’s a funny one.” Remus chuckled

James Potter 

James took a deep breath. "I got one -- Moony is sexy. I gotchu you friend," he winked at Remus. @Marlene McKinnon @Remus Lupin

Peter Pettigrew 

“Remus is sexy?” Peter exclaimed dramatically, “this game is already rigged.”

Remus Lupin

“It’s my birthday!” Remus retorted elbowing his friend and winking over at James.

Peter Pettigrew 

“I’m not going any easier on you, just cause you’re old” He laughed, elbowing Remus back. “It’s a cruel world.”

Remus Lupin 

“There’s no need to resort to age jokes Peter, that’s just cheesy. Are you a man or a mouse?” He smiled to himself at his ridiculous joke before tilting his head toward Marlene. “H’away Marls!” He shouted over to her, the Welsh coming out in his accent as he allowed himself to settle into the evening. “We ‘aven’t got all bloody day.” @Marlene McKinnon

Peter Pettigrew 

“I’ve already considered myself more of a rat, if I’m honest?” Peter laughed at Remus’ joke, “But I don’t want to get too cheesy.”

Remus Lupin 

“Not even Wensleydale?” @Peter Pettigrew

Peter Pettigrew 

“I’ve always preferred Stilton, myself.” @Remus Lupin

Marlene McKinnon 

"You boys are so needy-" The witch whined sarcastically before a grin pulled onto her features, having momentarily gotten distracted by Lily. Moving a space with a flick of her wand to stand on the coffee table simply because she always had a flair for the dramatics as she turned to face the pair. "Peter that was a terrible and I mean truly terrible joke even for you squeakers. Have you boys had enough of debating superior cheeses? Or do I have to wait till after Mozzarella and Parmesan?"

Remus Lupin 

“You seem pretty cheesed off if I say so myself Marlene.” Remus snickered, elbowing Peter slightly. @Marlene McKinnon

Peter Pettigrew 

“Needy but you need me,” Peter joked, winking at Marlene as he stood back to back with Remus. Laughing as Remus teased Marlene, “Yeah, Marlene. You’re really not gouda at this game.” Snickering as he tried to get the sentence out. @Marlene McKinnon

Remus Lupin

“That’s a good one!” Remus exclaimed, laughing loudly. “Couldn’t brie any better!”

Peter Pettigrew 

“We better watch, otherwise Marlene might get really Swissed off.”

James Potter 

James watched Marlene with fascination, and then laughed at the boys after the continuous puns about cheese. He moved so he was sitting beside Lily mainly to see this happening better.

Remus Lupin 

“For fuck sake.” Remus was almost in bits now, all it took was a few stupid jokes and a beer or two and he was back to his old happy self. “Right come on then Marls.” He said finally. “I think Peter and I could go all night otherwise.” @Marlene McKinnon

Peter Pettigrew 

Peter was glad that things seemed to have lightened up since earlier in the night. There was nothing a few drinks and laughs couldn’t fix. “Is that whiskey coming straight from the fire or something?” Peter asked, almost doubling over in laughter. @Marlene McKinnon

Remus Lupin 

“Honestly I’m done!” He laughed again loudly. “Wormtail, you truly are on fire tonight, much like the whiskey, which, as you so rightly said, is cooking away nicely whilst Marlene makes us wait.”

Peter Pettigrew 

“Anything for my birthday boy,” peter chuckled, finally able to stand up after his laughing fit. “I’ve got to keep em coming,”

Marlene McKinnon 

"Merlin alive-" Marlene spoke, shaking her head in dismay as she rolled heavily at their comments. "Are you both done? okay good-" The witch spoke, despite an amused grin pulling onto the edge of her lips. With a small twist of her wrist and the utter of 'incendio' the shots of whiskey now had a blue flame dancing on top of them. "Okay shots at the ready- Whether we be old-" The witch paused pointing at Remus and Mary with a cheeky wink.The witch paused for them to step forward before pointing at Potter: "Or bold- ing-”

Remus Lupin

The sudden heat of the flame made Remus’ face feel hot and a small bit of excitement rose in his stomach. Putting one foot forward he stepped out, still facing away from Peter and looking ahead at the kitchen in front of him.

Peter Pettigrew 

Peter stepped forward to get ready, trying to not laugh at the jokes. Still though his lips were twitching at the thought of the cheese puns.

Marlene McKinnon 

Pausing again for them to step forward the witch pointed at the rat boy himself 'young with scabby knees'..'heads could do with filling' The witch added, turning to glance briefly at Lily to give her a cheeky wink.

Remus Lupin 

Hearing Peter start to snicker, Remus did also. Stepping forward again and letting out a little laugh as he tried to keep his shot steady.

Marlene McKinnon 

'Hoggy warty Hogwarts-" The witch sang last of all before shouting as loud as she could...'Moony is sexy-!" Eyes peeled on the fasted to take their shot.

Peter Pettigrew

Trying to keep the shot steady, Peter laughed before necking the shot at Marlene’s next few words

Remus Lupin 

“Ahh! FUCK” Remus yelled necking the shot and turning around.“Marls! Who won?”

Marlene McKinnon 

"Anddddd we have a winner-" The witch chimed hopping down off the table. "Sorry darling, you're getting slow in your old age." Marlene teased nudging Remus lightly. Raising her wand to decorate Peter's head in a small twisted floral crown. "Maybe next time Moony-"

Remus Lupin 

“Damn! Guess you’re the big cheese Wormtail. Well done.” Walking toward Peter, he shook his hand once and grinned at Marlene. “Right Marls, what’s the dare then?” @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon 

"Grab your coat come on-" The witch spoke a smirk pulling wider onto her features as she grabbed a fresh bottle of fire whiskey heading for the door. "Who else is coming?"

Remus Lupin

“Oh no what is this gonna be. I thought it was gonna be like tell James he’s a sexy beast.” Groaning slightly, Remus pulled on his jacket and signalled for Peter to get him another beer for the journey before following Marlene outside.

Lily Evans 

Lily pulled on her own jacket and trailed behind. "Oh, I'm sure I wouldn't want to miss whatever this is going to be."

Peter Pettigrew 

Peter grimaced at the shot, satisfied that he had won. He grabbed another beer for him and Remus before following them out into the cold. “You tell James he’s a sexy beast everyday, Moony. That’s hardly a dare mate.”

Marlene McKinnon 

"Lupin- you put me in charge darling. What exactly did you expect was going to happen?" The witch questioned with a wider smirk pulling onto her features as she shrugged her coat turning around to look at the rest of those following her.

James Potter 

James quickly stood up grabbing his coat and rushing behind everyone. "I would love to know what kind of adventure you're bringing us on Marlene, and if you expect to be sharing that fire whiskey."

Remus Lupin

“When you live with someone that sexy you have to let them know!” Remus shouted back, waiting for Peter and taking the beer from him before taking a swig. As James filed in behind them into the garden, Remus caught his eye. “I truly mean that Prongs, you really are a sexy beast.” @James Potter  He offered as they stood out on the small little patch of lawn.

Peter Pettigrew 

“Oh tell me something I don’t know, Remy.” Peter sighed, clutching his heart. “I have to share my space with three handsome hunks.” He winked before taking a swig of beer.

James Potter 

James rolled his eyes. "You guys are sexy too, I'd die to be with any of you -- especially Peter -- in a heartbeat," he placed a hand on his chest about his heart. "You guys are the best." He drank the rest of his drink.(edited)

Peter Pettigrew 

“Oh baby, get in line.” Peter joked, winking at James. “Best Mates, til the end I say.” The outside air making him feel even tipsier that he was in the apartment.

Marlene McKinnon 

"When you're done complementing each other's arses- which all lovely and ten out of ten by the way- hold onto each others hand tight. And who's had the least amount of alcohol so far?" Marlene called as she looked down the line of her friends.

Remus Lupin 

“No but seriously, Peter you’re a babe. You both are.” Standing between his mates he gave them both a hug before turning his attention to Marlene. “Marlene I hope you know they’ll be no funny business on this lawn.” @Marlene McKinnon Dropping his hands, he offered one to James and then linked arms with Peter to enable them to keep drinking their beers. “Think that shot pushed me over the edge.” He replied, taking a swig of his beer

James Potter

James happily took his friends hand helping him out. "Listen mate-- I am absolutely plastered as well, I'll try to help you as best as I can," he squeezed his hand softly. "Marlene what are we doing out here?"

Peter Pettigrew

Grabbing his friends hand, holding the bottle of beer in between his lips. Peter tried to speak but was muffled, obviously. “I’m not that drunk, sober as a judge.” He tried to speak clearly around the bottle. Before leaning his head back slightly to take a drink. Where ever he was going, his beer was going too.

Remus Lupin

Wising up to what Marlene was doing, Remus raised an eyebrow at Peter and looked between him and James. “This might sound like a ridiculous question but can you travel with beer? Have we tried that?” He asked with a laugh. “If we have I’ve been too drunk to notice.” @Peter Pettigrew @James Potter

Marlene McKinnon

Putting the bottle of fire whiskey in her pocket she rolled her eyes lightly with amusement at the boys while offering her hand to Lily to take. "Considering I didn't trust any of you to fly a broom while plastered nor did fancy fishing any of you out of Thames; not to mention no fireplace-" The witch shrugging lightly. "Pass it here Remus-" Marlene offered putting her wand between her red lips as she offered her extension charmed purse in his direction. @Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin — Today at 12:36 AM

Dutifully, Remus passed Marlene his beer and stepped back into the circle, holding hands with Peter and James. “You might want to take Wormtail’s as well. I don’t fancy that hitting me in the eye on the trip.” @Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKinnon — Today at 12:38 AM

"Alcohol give it here-" The witch ordered putting her own bottle in the bag before holding it out to the middle of the circle for any last ones. "Lily make sure you're grabbing onto one of the boys will you-" @Lily Evans

Peter Pettigrew — Today at 12:39 AM

Letting go of James hand for one moment, he took the bottle out of his mouth and passed it to Marlene before taking James’ hand again. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m not going nowhere.”

James Potter — Today at 12:39 AM

James took Peter's bottle and made sure he wasn't going to grab it again. At the mention of Lily taking one of their hand's he almost instantly volunteered holding his free hand out to Lily. "I got you and Peter don't worry," he smiled softly.

Lily Evans — Today at 12:40 AM

Lily took James's hand. "Aye aye, captain. Come on then Marley, where are we headed?"

Marlene McKinnon — Today at 12:43 AM

Holding onto Lily's hand tight, the witch took one last look at her friends with a light smirk tugging onto her features. Eyes closed focusing clearly on their destination before apparating

- scene change  to be continued - 

[yayninjabob]

Update 1/20/21

It's been swell having my freedom again now that I'm covid-free.  I'm not going anywhere or anything.  But things like gardening in our backyard, taking my dog-kids Fable and Riot on walks, cuddling with my wifey on the sofa and watching netflix or whatever, and just being able to cook again for myself in the kitchen... I've missed all of it so much.  So much in fact that I've been slacking on editing more than I should, whoops.  SORRY, GUYS.

But I did finish up all my rewrites yesterday FINALLY so the new chapter is nearly done.  All that's left is another swoop of editing and maayyyybee swapping out this one scene I have for another that I originally had planned for 13 instead.  So give me a day or two to decide what feels best for the story while I start tinkering with 13 a bit.

So basically I'm stepping away from 12 today to work on the scene for 13.   Depending on what I decide to do with that scene, I might finish chapter 12 tomorrow night after work, or I might need another day after that.  But I don't think so.  I'm already like 90 percent sure on what I'll probably end up doing lol.   Just gotta write this up first to be sure and it will EASE my perfectionist mind.  Once that's done, then it's final editing and formatting stuff which takes me usually a day or two.

Alright that's just a really wordy way to say I will have CHAPTER 12 up this SUNDAY, JANUARY 24TH.  PROMISE GUYS.  

I feel so bad it's been so long since our last update that I'll share one scene with you guys from 12.  I mean, if you’re checking this blog you're probably looking for an update, right?  Well for now, I hope a little sneak peek will suffice until Sunday.

Personally, I think it's kind of a cool sneaky peeky because honestly it doesn't really give away much of the plot of the chapter and still leaves the suspense of where we last left off pretty much.  SO.  If you wanna read a little bit of 12, here's scene #3 for you guys early.  If you want to avoid it and remain pure, I’ll see you Sunday I guess lol.

Uh... heads up, it's got some gore lol.  A creepy little horror comedy scene, really.  One of my personal faves of the chapter, too.  PLEASE ENJOY.

SNEAK PEEK:  Chapter 12, Scene 3 under the cut....

scene 3

The green Powerpuff lay in the dark unable to sleep.  Even though the teenager had turned out the light hours ago, there was no stopping the never ending loop of the night which still replayed over and over within the young hero's mind.  Buttercup had done nothing but tossing and turning in an attempt to try and find rest that night, and had managed to kick away all of the bedding and sheets.  Laying upon a bare mattress and still hopelessly waiting for sleep with eyes shut tight, there was a sudden faint knocking sound heard coming from within the bedroom.

Buttercup sat up in bed with a jolt the moment the sounds began in the dark.   Immediately the Puff's emerald eyes fell on the door to the bedroom closet.  The door to the closet was shut, but the noise was definitely coming from behind it.  Buttercup watched the door intently, while silently and cautiously moving towards it.  With super hearing activated, the Puff listened to the sound of something rustling about inside, and as the young hero crept closer and closer, there was a rotten, burning stench in the air.  Buttercup reached for the closet door's handle and opened it.

"Where is it?  Dude, it's gotta be somewhere around here!"

Buttercup blinked at the blood soaked kid for a moment before a look of annoyance came next.  The sixteen-year-old Puff watched as the thirteen-year-old apparition  dug around the heap of dirty laundry that littered the closet floor.  The kid had her back turned as she knelt upon both knees over the large pile of laundry and searched frantically for something.   Buttercup groaned, still holding the closet door open, "Oh no....  What are you doing here?  Dude, really, I'm just trying to get some sleep tonight and you showing up now just isn't-"

"Where is it?!" the kid jumped onto their sandy wet sneakers and began to search the shelfing within the closet, "Where the fuck is it?!"  As the thirteen-year-old removed an old snowglobe from the shelf and tossed it carelessly over her shoulder, Buttercup caught it and glared at her.

"Where's what?!" Buttercup snapped at herself.

The kid stopped suddenly and slowly glanced over her shoulder with her ghostly, opaque white right eye.  "Where's the mask?"

"Oh," Buttercup's angry expression softened.  "...It's... gone...."

"...Oh...."

"...Yeah...."

As Buttercup reached over her to return the snowglobe to its spot on the shelf, the kid turned round to face them.  "Can't you get it back somehow?"

The green Puff sighed deeply and floated slowly back over to the bed, "Nah, Dude..." Buttercup reclined upon the bare mattress again, "I think... I think that shit's over now....  I mean, shit's getting pretty serious now that Mojo knows about us.  I'm hoping it all works out tomorrow, and he's really not gonna make me do something fucked up in return for his silence, but... even if he does keep his word..." Buttercup shut both eyes and yawned, "It's just gettin' way too risky, Dude...."

"Huh..." the kid stood at the teenager's bedside, "I thought we were just startin' to have some real fun...."

Buttercup's eyes remained shut, hoping the illusion would go away soon.  "It was fun while it lasted...."

"Sucks, Man....  Say, you got anything I can eat?  I'm fucking starving, Dude-"

"Dude," Buttercup interrupted with annoyance, "Why are you here?"  The green Puff sat up in bed once more and looked towards the kid and saw that she had made her way across the bedroom.  The blood soaked child stood in front of Buttercup's dresser, staring at the pair of birds that sat within their cage.  Her back was towards Buttercup, but Buttercup could see that the kid suddenly gripped something shiny in her right glowing green, acid burnt hand.

"Same reason I always drop by," the kid answered with her back still turned.  The apparition turned her head slightly, and even in the dark Buttercup could make out the devious glint of a small, sly smile as she still gripped whatever was in her hand.  "I'm here to help you out, you know... since you got nobody else, right?"

Buttercup continued to stare at the kid, but chose to remain silent.  The green Puff watched as the illusion returned her attention to the birdcage, and with her left, seared bloody hand, she reached for the cage's small door and opened it.  Both Snot and Pus instantly tried to dart away from the sizzling glowing green acid drenched palm that reached for them, but the kid easily managed to yank the fluttering green bird from the cage.  Buttercup's eyes widened in shock as she watched the kid cut into the squirming, live bird with a shard of glass, slicing the helpless creature straight down the middle.  His yellow companion fluttered about within the closed cage behind them, squawking loudly as the kid raised the green bird to her lips and began to slurp loudly.

All the green Puff could do was look on in stunned silence as the kid continued to suck the blood from the slowly dying bird.   As many times as the green Puff had received a "visit" from their former, "dead" self, this sort of thing... was definitely new.  As Buttercup continued to watch, the green Puff tried to keep in mind that what was being witnessed... could definitely not be happening.

The kid used her tattered black jacket's sleeve to wipe away the fresh blood-stache from her face, before turning to Buttercup.  "Did ya want the other one?"

The green Puff shook their head.

"Suit yourself," the kid shrugged and tossed the dead green bird over her shoulder, before she repeated the same act with the yellow bird next.  

Buttercup still could not look away.  "Dude... what the actual fuck...?" Eventually, the Puff's green eyes drifted slowly back to wear the discarded dead green bird's drained body lay on the floor of the room.   There was a gust of wind and Buttercup watched as the wooden floorboards of the bedroom and the dead bird began to blow away like strange particles of sand.  The green Puff rose from the bed mattress as it next faded away into the dark atmosphere around them.  "Ah, shit, no wonder..." Buttercup laughed a little nervously, "I'm dreaming...."

"We're dreaming," the kid added as she stood beside herself with a grin.

The green Puff glared briefly for a moment at the unwelcomed tag-along before looking around once more.  The once empty black void that was the adolescent's default dreamscape had changed as of late.  It was still a mostly desolate land, but no longer shrouded in total darkness.  Now, the sky shook with thick, dark and thunderous clouds which boomed with a growing, green electricity inside them.  The fiery green light that crackled within the black storm clouds illuminated the land with an eerie green glow.  The earth was cracked and dry and as the storm ahead continued to boom above, the windy weather of the vast wasteland kicked up the sandy dirt around them.

"Well, whaddya  know?  Ya changed up the place, huh?  I like it!" the kid grinned as she cupped one bloody beaten hand over her brow and looked about the dreamscape.  The thirteen-year-old turned back around and saw that she had been left behind as the green Puff continued to float on ahead without her.  "Yo! Wait up!"

The green Puff carried on without stopping, moving towards a large, distant shadow in the east.  After several minutes, the kid managed to catch up, loudly wheezing and gasping for air as she tried to catch her breath beside the casual floating Powerpuff.

"Dude! I told ya to wait up!" she socked Buttercup on the shoulder with a bloody, bruised fist, "I don't have my ghost powers in this dream world!"

"What sorta sense does that make?"

"I dunno!" the kid threw up her hands, "You tell me!"  the kid paused to cough a little, splattering the dirt with blood.  She wiped at her mouth with her tattered sleeve, as she walked quickly beside the Powerpuff, "Here, I'm just like you were when Goody-Goody left ya behind on that island!   Weak and human-y and useless and burning alive!  You remember?"

The green Puff glared at the kid for a moment before muttering, "Yeah.  I remember."

"So, where we goin' anyway?"

As the two approached a tall arched golden gateway, the green Puff stopped and turned towards the kid.  "No way.  You ain't comin' with me, alright?  Why don't you run off somewhere else, and I dunno... play."

"Why?" the blood-soaked kid strained her eyes as she tried to peer through the thick golden bars of the gate. Besides only having one functioning eye, there was a dense mist in the air that made it difficult to see. "Where are we- Oh-" she stopped as her vision focused on a short redhead walking her pet Pomeranian through the garden.  "Her?" the kid laughed a little, "Dude.  What do you see in her, anyway?   Like... do you like gettin' bossed around, or is it the big boobs, or-"

"Shut up," the green Puff rattled the gate a little to get the kid's attention once more, "Look," the skinny teen's scarred hands grasped the kid by her hooded jacket and spun her to her left, "Go that way, alright?  You'll find Ace's place and have a good time."

"OK, cool!" the kid thankfully agreed, "Which building is it?  That one or that one?"

"What are you talkin' about?  There's only one other build-" the green Puff stopped mid sentence, noticing for the first time a tall silhouette in the distance.

The thirteen-year-old watched as the green Puff shot off for the tall structure with a flash of green light.  "Shit!" she started to chase after on foot, "Wait up!"

As soon as the structure came clearer into focus, the flying teen halted mid-air, "The water tower...?"

For a while, the green Puff remained suspended in the sky, watching the tower intently from afar.  As far as the hero could tell, there were no signs of anyone there, but the scene still felt too ominous.  It was several minutes before the teenager worked up enough courage to continue forward.

Touching down on the metal landing of the water tower, the structure was so high up in the eerie green atmosphere that the darkened mist was especially thick and overpowering even for superpowered vision.  The green Puff gulped nervously, walking cautiously around the platform, tense and ready for anything.  Both green eyes glowed as they searched around the labyrinth of the thick metal beams that supported the tower's massive water tank.   As the teenager reached the railing on the other side, far below could be heard the desperate wheezing and coughing of a struggling thirteen-year-old attempting to climb the tower's ladder.

"Oh, Man!" the kid shouted from below, "I don't think I'm gonna make it!  Dude... a little help?!"

The teenager sighed before zipping downward to retrieve the kid from halfway down the ladder.  The green Puff carried her back up to the metal landing and set her on her feet, but the kid instantly collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily from exhaustion.  

"You know..." the wheezing thirteen-year-old spoke between hard breaths, "That's hard enough... without powers... but climbing really sucks... when your hands... practically have no skin..." she sat up and coughed as she struggled to climb back onto her feet.  The kid stood silent for a while as she watched the green Puff continue to intently search around every metal beam of the platform.  "So what's up?" the kid finally asked after a while.  "What're you lookin' for?"

The green Puff came to the center of the landing, and turned to look back at the kid, wearing a somewhat disappointed frown.  "Nothin', I guess."

[leighas-life]

Review Of Meg, The Trench, Primal Waters, Origins By Steve Alten

Meg #1 (4/5 stars)

*I didn’t write a review for this one, but my thoughts for the second 2 sum up how I feel about Meg (and probably the series as a whole when I finish it.)

The Trench (Meg #2) - 3.5/5

***Trigger warning: Rape is mentioned, along with the person being tortured, there were two attempted rape scenes, one quite graphic and incest.*** The author needs a better editing team. The writing style was good and enjoyable for the most part, although one thing stood out which was the repetitiveness. Jonas felt his temper flaring practically every other page. There was a lot of flashing. How many times can a person flash a smile, or flash their eyes in anger, flash this, flash that....? "For a surreal moment" is also used many times. Once you notice the repetitiveness, it is almost impossible not to notice, which brings you out of the story. Another thing that stood out that took away some enjoyment was a lot of telling instead of showing. Too many characters. I gave up trying to keep track of them. 99% were not important, just written in to be killed. I like how Masao treats Jonas as a true son and not a son-in-law. They have a couple of sweet father-son moments. The actions scenes were suspenseful. I truly felt Terry's terror as she goes through the stuff she went through. There are a couple of characters I hated so much and admit, I was hoping they would die, so Steve Alten is good at writing characters you hate. I do plan on reading more, as I love the entertaining value in these. Some of the triggering and problematic things you can overlook if you go in knowing what to expect. I hope the books get better as the series progresses.

Primal Waters (Meg #3) - 4/5 very problematic stars. 

TW: Because yes, this will have triggers, like the first two. Misogyny, implied/mentioned sex between adults and underage girls, suicide is mentioned, abortion is mentioned, slut and fat-shaming (blink and you might miss the slut-shaming, but it is there.) *** You can go into a vintage horror (or any genre) novel and expect some dark and nasty stuff, including how females are treated, and hey, maybe you even like those books, despite the problematic elements. Those books were a product of the time. I'm honestly not judging your taste in books, because I read them, too. It is nice to be able to turn your brain off sometimes. That being said, the way females are treated in this book just doesn't make sense. Because it is about killer sharks, does that mean it is marketed toward men and that is why all the girls are treated like eye candy, along with underage eye candy to boot? It is just cringy how Terry is described. (The Asian beauty with almond eyes.) I wasn't even at the 30% point and already suicide was mentioned, two instances of underage sex mentioned (with an adult) and one instance of what seems like a forced abortion (man paying for and probably making the underage girl abort her baby), and a cheating scumbag. (And later on in the book there are slut and fat-shaming.) Oh, and of course some shark kills! Which is the real reason to read these, right? Why in the world would Jonas let his underage daughter be one of the "Candy Girls" without even saying a word of protest? “I was hoping you might be able to use Dani behind the scenes, you know, assisting the film crew . . . something to keep her busy.” “Behind the scenes?” Erik laughs. “Your daughter’s eye-candy, Professor, and we can never have too much of that. Dani, as soon as you get settled, come find me and I’ll hook you up with wardrobe. They’ll pick out some nice bikinis, maybe a few after-hour numbers. We’ll pay you to be one of our Candy Girls, my pet name for our Daredevil groupies.” “Excellent.” Danielle’s gloating smile tweaks her father’s blood pressure. *** Also, I can do without shaming people for having body hair. It was just a silly and unneeded line. "God, I miss California. If I date one more woman with hairy legs, I think I’ll—" *** Erik points to the bow where a cocoa-brown African-American woman in a white thong bikini is posing before a photographer and two cameramen. “Not much of an actress, but who cares, she makes—” “I know, great eye-candy.” So, we have an almond-eyed Asian beauty and now a cocoa-brown African American...can't we describe POC without using food? And you don't have to keep reminding us that Terry's Asian as well. We remember! (Later on, there is an olive-skinned Italian as well.) I saw someone call these books "Shallow Entertainment" and they sure are that! I notice that he really likes to go into detail of describing how a female looks, using words like "shapely" a lot. Also, I noticed he points out skin color and eye color of the females often, but only one time did he mention the eye color of a man. I wonder why it is? So we know what eye color the females have when we fantasize about them? I mean, he writes them like "Eye Candy!" The girls on the boat are even called "Candy Girls" by the camera crew. It is basically "Girl's Gone Wild" with stupid daredevil stunts that get people killed. How has this film crew not been sued and how are they allowed to show the deaths on tv? I've never watched the real Girl's Gone Wild, but this book is similar to the Piranha (2010) movie, if you remember the GGW film crew, well, yeah, this book is like that, but with some hungry sharks and people who don't use their brains. Of course, the sex and nudity in this are not graphic or anything, but you get what I mean. That is because Steve does a lot of telling, and not showing. All the people in this book that get put in danger (and end up getting killed) are getting what they deserve. I would never say that about a real-life situation, toward a real victim, but seriously, these characters have bricks for brains. The camera, still looped around his neck, bounces against his chest— —calling out his name. Brian stares at temptation, his fear momentarily subsiding. 'The whale’s dying. Angel’s got to be circling below, waiting to feed again. One shot, just a quick one before you lose the light, then get to shore as fast as you can.' He stops paddling, allowing the kayak to drift as he glances back at Charlie. 'Calm and steady and the Meg won’t even know you’re here. One great shot of her next attack, just one killer shot.' 'Sorry Charlie, but that’s life in the food chain. Damn, this looks good. Okay, Angel, one more time for Daddy while we still have the light. Definitely a cover shot on National Geographic, maybe even Time . . .' This is why I root for the shark! A certain thing keeps happening in this book and jarring me out of the story. Steve Alten has a broken way of writing what are supposed to be suspenseful moments. Personally, I don't like this style. I don't know how to describe it, so I will show you. Balancing atop the wall, he runs back to the arena and the safety of the bleachers as fast as he can— —nitrogen bubbling in his bloodstream. Fergie bounds over another swell and pulls hard on his control strut— —as a powerful updraft catches the kite. Losing the wind, he plummets—a seabird with clipped wings— —as the Megalodon breeches, its head rising at him like a missile, its jaws yawning open, offering an impossible target to miss. Devin flees— —only to be confronted by an even bigger nightmare. This way of writing might be fine if it only happened a couple of times, but it is littered throughout the whole book. One last thing I want to add about Dani, which is a spoiler-ish. [Dani starts off as a teenage spoiled brat; there is no way to say it nicely. I liked how she grew and eventually stopped being such a pain, and she and her father started to see eye to eye again.] Don't get me wrong, despite my complaints, I really do like these books. As I said, it is nice to turn your brain off and enjoy some B movie type books.

Meg Origins (Meg #.05) 2/5 stars.

If you read and liked Meg, this tells the story of when Jonas first met the prehistoric shark. This book is interesting, to say the least. However, some of the writing was dry, dare I say boring. There were some repetitive chapter openings that annoyed me. I guess the editing team didn't notice. Once you notice these repetitive things, it is hard to keep from noticing them and it takes you out of the story. For example: In the Prologue "Captian George Nares stood defiantly on the heaving gun deck." In Chapter 1: "Captian Richard Danielson stood defiantly on the main deck." How does one stand defiantly? Do you stand in a Superman pose, with your hands on your hips? There were so many characters. I wrote a list of characters in case someone was important later on. Large casts are often forgettable. I counted about 20 characters (Plus some more that were not given proper names.) 90% of these people were not important. I liked how there was a nod to the Jaws movie. "Good God, Man! That's more than half the length of the Challenger. A creature that size... we'd need a bigger boat." Steve didn't copy Jaws. Maybe he was inspired somewhat, but the storyline of Meg is completely different from Jaws, yet people are going to still scream copycat. Misogyny, treatment of women. One girl in this is only known by her big boobs. I think she's given a name, but that's about it. You can tell this was written by a man by the way characters describe women. "...tan, oiled breasts two swollen grapefruits in the skimpy red bikini." "...hawkish eyes moved from the pair of jacks in his right hand to the D-cup breasts barely contained beneath the brunette's olive-green tee-shirt." How do you know they're D-cup? Did you measure them, or did she tell you? "Hey, so my boobs are d-cup." These are grown men, but they sound like they are teen boys who just discovered boobs. I'm not a prude by any means, but I can't say I liked this manner of describing people. I notice the men are never described this way. Don't get me wrong, I really do like these books. So far. Meg Origins should be saved only if you are a die-hard fan of the series, though. None of it is new info. It just goes into detail of what the first book already mentioned.