#THIS IS WHEN THINGS HAPPEN YOU KNOW? IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT ; ( aesthetic )

[carpeomnes]

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[thischarmingmandalorian]

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

Couple, Bar Chapter 1

Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.

Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader

Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.

While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."  

You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.

Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern.  And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.

On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.

The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting.  Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set. 

Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.

"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music. 

You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.

Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."

"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.

After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.

"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."

There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?

"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"

"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.

You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"

Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."

"Oh…kay?"

Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'

You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round.  Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right. 

You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."

You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."

Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"

You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry.  You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.

This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played.  You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself.  Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is? 

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.

You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.

"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"

You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.

"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.

"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.

"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.

"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.

"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.

The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything. 

And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper. 

You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front. 

You'll show him sexually frustrated.

Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach. 

"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.

Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.

"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder. 

"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet.  He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.

I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don't know how to say this

'Cause you're really my dearest friend

Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass. 

"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."

Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."

[ohtobeleah]

Scream // Jake Seresin

🔪 Summary: When home alone on Halloween Eve, someone keeps calling you from an unknown number. As fear begins to consume you and panic builds as you run for your life, the masked stranger really takes advantage of the pretty girl he’s decided to hunt down.

🔪 Warnings: Mask kink, CNC (consensual non-consent) knife play, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, degradation, creampie, rough sex. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Ghost Face likeness/cosplay.

🔪 Word Count: 7.6k

🔪 Author Note: Happy Halloween ya filthy animals. Hope you enjoy this X-rated Ohtobeleah Halloween Special! Concepts are open for this one too! Especially with that ending….

Spooky season. It had to be your favourite time of year. The fall brought so many changes and flavours and aesthetics you just couldn’t resist. From the pumpkin spiced everything’s to the burnt embers and oranges that littered the trees that lined the sidewalks. To the overconsumption of old Halloween classics and seasonal house decor that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

Halloween was and always would be, yourself favourite holiday, and for that you thanked the pagans for their belief system many centuries ago. Without them? Why else would you have an excuse to sit in your living room with what felt like an endless supply of single wrapped sweets and chocolates that you should very well have been saving for the trick or treaters that would be roaming the streets of suburban Texas the following night. 

“Is that how you wanna spend your summer?” You’d seen IT probably a million times before, but it was always a good start. “Inside of an arcade?” Eddie Kaspbrak asked little Richie Tozier as you popped another Reese's peanut butter cup into your mouth. 

“Beats spending it inside your mother.” You couldn’t help but to say the line out loud knowing exactly what comeback was coming around the corner. Like clockwork little Richie said the same thing he always said and you laughed like an adolescent. Yeah, the IT Saga was always a good place to start before moving into the Halloween Collection and Scream Series. 

You were what some would call ‘Basic’ But to you basic was better than being overly ambitious and lacking in complete pop culture appreciation for the movies that were, in your very not so professional opinion, the backbone of the spooky season film industry. 

In need of another glass of Prosecco or perhaps something a little stronger and gin based, you made your way into the kitchen after you’d paused your movie. The house smells of cinnamon and pumpkin, there was no escape from the ever present and consuming aroma of fall as you took a moment to decide if you were going to finish that bottle of Prosecco or move on to the big boys. The gin sours. After all, you were home all alone on Halloween Eve and there was nothing stopping you from getting a little tipsy in the quiet and comfortable silence of your humble abode. 

Even your Flyboy boyfriend, Jake Seresin, wasn’t coming home. The original plan had been he was taking some much needed leave to come home and spend two full weeks back in the arms of the woman he loved so dearly. But things changed, life happened, and all of a sudden you were facing the reality that you would be alone for the Halloween holiday head on. 

You couldn’t blame him, it was just the way the job went sometimes. Things came up, plans changed overnight and soon enough, four entire months had passed since you’d last seen Lieutenant Commander Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, or as he was more affectionately known to you as, Flyboy.

It was just the way the pumpkin spiced cookie crumbled this time around, but Jake had promised the minute Robert Floyd was back on deck after his four weeks of leave for paternity were over, he was racing back to you. 

In the middle of your silent thoughts on when you’d get to see your boyfriend of three years again, your phone began to vibrate back on the coffee table where you’d left it. The ringer had been silent—but the vibration against the glass was all you needed to hear as you padded back into the living room. Still drinkless and very much sober, something that needed to change very quickly if you were going to enjoy your time alone. 

You anticipated the call to be Jake, but when the caller ID didn’t read ‘Flyboy’ with one of those obnoxious pink hearts next to it, you frowned. All that was staring back at you was an unknown number, one you hadn’t seen before. One that didn’t look familiar or resemble any contact you might have accidentally deleted from your contacts. 

You’d heard what could become of curious minds, but that didn’t stop you from swiping the pad of your thumb across the vibrating screen before you held your phone up to your ear. 

“Hello?” You asked cautiously, already wondering who could be calling you this late who didn’t know you. 

“Hello?” A voice you didn’t recognise mimicked your greeting. 

“Yes?” You grimaced at your own stupidity for a second as you made your way back into the kitchen. 

“Who is this?” The man on the other end of the phone asked like he wasn’t the one who called you. 

“Hmm—Well who are you trying to reach?” You tried to remain polite, for all you knew as you reached up for the bottle of gin, it truly could have been a mistake. A wrong number situation if you will. 

“What number is this?” The man asked, a little more confused. 

“Well what number are you trying to reach?” Your patience was going a little thin, but nevertheless you remained polite. 

“I don’t know.” The man on the end of the line sounded as if he shrugged with a cocky little smirk. Was this some sort of prank call? 

“I think you have the wrong number.” As if you were going to play along. Prank calls around this time of year were a dime a dozen and you just weren’t in the mood for childish antics. 

“Do I?” He asked, almost shocked, like he knew that he had the right number all along. Because he did. 

“It happens.” You shrugged it off with a quick eye roll, silently masking your annoyance. “Take it easy man.” You ended the call with a quick sigh and placed your phone on the counter as you went about making yourself a stronger, more appropriate beverage. The night was still somewhat young and you wanted a buzz. But then, once again, your phone rang with that same unknown number. At first you weren’t going to answer, but something inside you told you it could just be one of Jake’s friends pulling a prank. 

“Hello?” You tried to mask the annoyance in your tone but it must have come across as clear as day as you answered the phone. Same unknown number, same smug voice. 

“I’m sorry—I guess I dialled the wrong number.” The man on the other end sounded like he smiled through his words. 

“So why’d you dial it again?” It was a genuine question, why would someone who dialled the wrong number dial it again? On purpose. 

“To apologise.” The man replied rather quickly as you worked to pour yourself a rather strong shot of gin. It was going straight into the shaker. 

“Well consider your apology accepted.” How stupid was the guy? “Goodbye now—“

“Wait, wait—don’t hang up.” He nearly begged, you could hear the desperation in his voice, the need to keep you on the line. What was this weirdo playing at? 

“Why would I not?” You frowned, stilling your movements to pounder this entire situation. Who the fuck was this guy? What did he want? Did you know him? Was this some sort of prank? 

“Because I wanna talk to you for a second.” Oh okay, now you got it.

“They’ve got numbers for that kinda shit.” You chuckled to yourself under your breath. “I ain't that kinda girl.” You didn't even bother saying goodbye this time, you simply pressed the end call button and went about making yourself a drink. 

By the time you got settled back on the couch amongst a sea of throw blankets and halloween themed pillows, the TV had dimmed. If anything that was a clear indication as to how much time you had actually wasted talking to that random creeper on the phone. 

As you got settled, the buzzing vibration of your phone on the coffee table scared the ever living Christ from you. You groaned when you saw it, that same unknown number. With a huff, you answered. 

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” Your heart nearly sunk at the harshness the man used as you held your phone up against your ear. 

“Who the hell is this?” You frowned again, this time you weren't playing games. You’d spent enough time entertaining this lunatic and now it was time to get to the bottom of who the fuck was messing with you.

“You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.” The man chuckled to himself as he watched you get up off the lounge and slowly approach the nearest window to have a cautious look outside.

“I don’t think so.” The only thing you could see were the small pumpkin lights that boarded the front porch as they softly illuminated the stone in an orangey hume. Besides those small plastic pumpkin lights? There was nothing but darkness until the street. 

“What’s that noise?” The man asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He sounded far too intrigued by you and your surroundings. 

“I’m trying to watch a movie, now would you quit calling me?” You hissed through a huff as you made your way back to the couch. You were going to have to rewind your movie now, completely having lost track of where you were up to because of this lunatic. 

“What movie is it?” This game was becoming old and cheap, you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes as you sat back down and fixed the fuzzy grey blanket that was one of Jake’s favourites. God you missed him, wished he was here. “The one you’re trying to watch?”

“IT, Chapter One.” There was a sharp, get to the point, I’m over this damn conversation tone in your voice as you picked up the remote to rewind the movie. 

“Oh so it’s a scary movie?” The man sounded as if he raised an eyebrow at your explanation. 

“Well I tell ya what Sherlock Holmes—“ Once again, you weren’t trying to be nice, so the sarcasm dripped from your mouth like liquid candy. “You’re onto something there.” 

“Do you like scary movies?” He prolonged the question rather politely, but you didn’t miss the way his voice dropped an octave as your heart quickened inside your chest. 

“I do—“ Your house was far too quiet for your liking as you spoke on the phone to this complete stranger. You’d all of a sudden lost all interest in your movie as you looked back to the front door. Did you lock it? 

“What’s your favourite scary movie then?” 

“I’m not sure, there’s a few that I could choose.” In an overprotective manner you walked back to the front door to check if it was locked. It was. 

“Oh come on now, you’ve gotta have a favourite scary movie.” The man asked as he watched you walk around your house to check all the locks on all the windows and back door. “What comes to mind?”

“Fine, Halloween—“ None of your attempts to secure your humble abode would avail to anything. “You know, with the guy in the white mask that walks around stalking babysitters.” Because the man you were currently talking to was already inside your home. The home you shared with your loving, cock sure, flyboy boyfriend who was still in damn San Diego. 

“Yeah, I know it.” The man replied softly, he was just trying to keep you on the line. 

“So—what’s your favourite? Since you needed to know mine so desperately.” It even surprised you, but before you could stop yourself from entertaining this creeper any further the words had already escaped. You mentally had to slap yourself across the face for that one. That one was all on you. 

“How about you guess?” The man chuckled as he watched you walk back from the back door to the living room where once again, you sat back down on the couch. 

“Is it Nightmare on Elm Street?” Why oh why were you doing this to yourself? 

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?” The man sounded like he had a smile on his face, like he was enjoying this a little too much. Like he was just waiting for the right moment to come around. 

“Yeah, Freddie Kroger.” There was an ever increasing pit in your stomach that wouldn’t go away, something wasn’t right about this entire interaction. Who the fuck was this guy and why was he calling you on Halloween Eve. 

“Freddie, yeah that’s right, I guess I do like that movie, it’s pretty scary, don’t you think? 

“Well, the first one was but the rest sucked.” Again, why the fuck were you entertaining this guy. 

“So—you gotta boyfriend?” There it was, the last of many red flags. The first three being the late night unknown phone calls.

“Why? Are you gonna ask me out on a date, Mr. Cold Call guy?” A little teasing wouldn’t do any harm you thought to yourself as you popped a piece of candy into your mouth. 

“Maybe—“ The line went silent for a moment as your heart rang in your ears. “So? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do—“ You didn’t even need to lie, you did in fact have a very loved, very attractive, very not here at the moment boyfriend. “So, unfortunately for you there’s not gonna be a date.” 

“How could there ever be a date when you still haven’t told me your name?” 

“Why do you wanna know my name?” The next few seconds of time slowed down into nothing as your heart sank into your stomach and your head rang in fear. The man you’d been talking to with the rough voice and the polite responses had you turning seven colours of bad shit as he spoke. 

“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at—“

“What did you just say?” You shot up off the couch as you looked around your home frozen in fear. 

“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to.” The man tried to plan it off cool, calm and oh so collected but he knew he’d been heard and heard correctly. 

“That’s not what you said.” You could feel your heart hammering against your chest like it was trying to escape, but your feet refused to move. 

“What do you think I said?” He egged you on as you heard what sounded like footsteps coming from the laundry and tears began to well in your eyes. 

“Look, I gotta go, this is starting to get fucking creepy and my boyfriends gonna be home any minute.” The man on the end of the line could hear the shake in your voice as you tried to hang up and get out of this situation. He chose to play on your fear a little more. 

“Wait, I thought we were gonna go on a date?” He questioned rather quickly as you tried to regulate your breathing and get your feet to move. This wasn’t happening, this was like the beginning of some slasher 90’s horror movie where the ignorant girl gets killed for not using her brain.

“Nah—you’re dreaming.” You pulled the phone away from your ear but froze in fear when you heard the man scream down the phone at you. 

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me.” He spat with venom in his tone. 

“Listen asshole—“ You spat back as you finally let the anger overtake the fear inside you. 

“No you listen here you little bitch—“ He argued back as he watched you storm into the kitchen looking for a weapon to defend yourself with, only then did you realise the knives in the knife block had all been removed. “Hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish!” 

“Is this some sort of sick joke to you?” It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. God you wished Jake was here right now, he would have told you not to answer an unknown number. 

“More like a game—“ You should have listened to the little voice of his that lived in your mind. You never should have answered the phone. “Can you handle that—Y/n?” The way he said you named made all the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention. 

“Can you see me?” You asked as you looked out the window once more, when there wasn’t an immediate response you growled into the phone. “Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police—“

“I don’t think they’re gonna make it in time sweetheart.” The man chuckled rather menacingly and it made your blood boil. “But they’ll definitely get here with just enough time to see what your insides look like.” 

“Ahh!” The doorbell rang and you swore your heart nearly exploded when it did. “Who’s there!” You shouted as you back away, screaming and crying into the phone. “Who’s fucking there!”

“You should never say who’s there, don’t you watch scary movies?” The man chuckled. “It’s a deathwish.”

“You’ve well and truly had your fun, now please—leave me alone.” You whimper for mercy, this was all too much. 

“Or else what?” The man asked curiously, he wanted to know exactly what you were going to do about all this. He was, after all, the one with the upper hand. 

“Or else my boyfriend will be here any second and he’ll be pissed when he finds out what cruel sick bastards been harassing me!”

“Isn’t he outta town?” How did? How the hell did he know? Had you told the mystery man fucking with you. 

“No!” You denied the fact that Jake was out of town, still stuck on base in San Diego when he should have been here. “No he’s not, and he’s big and fucking jacked and he flys fucking military planes for a damn living and he’ll kick the ever living shit out of you!” You shouted into your phone as you backed away from any door and window you could possibly get away from. Spinning around to make sure you had good enough vision of the whole house. 

“Oh yeah?” The man laughed on the other end of the line. “Sure, I’m shaking in my boots honey.” There was no question he could tell he was scaring you beyond belief, he’d watched you for the better half of five minutes frantically rush around the house locking all the doors and windows. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Jake? would it?” This was going to be so much fun. 

“How do you know his name?” There was a clear whimper in your voice as tears streamed down your cheeks. Fear was caught in your throat like a ball of wax, choking you completely. 

“Turn around—“ Slowly, you hung up the phone you held with a vice grip and turned around. To your absolute horror, there he was, the man who had been on the phone with you. Only you recognised the outfit with ease—it was a GhostFace costume. A really good one too. One that wasn’t from Dollar General the night before Halloween. This one had been thought out, the costume had intent and it was detailed. 

“Boo.” Was all he said as he took a step towards you. “Aw look at you.” He chuckled to himself as he approached and you remained still in complete and utter fear. “A little scared are you?” 

“How—how did you get inside my house?” It was a stupid question to ask, but as the man in the GhostFace mask approached you, you felt like you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. 

“You looked me in?” He simply explained as he showed you a shape, clearly brand new knife. “Now we’re all alone, with no one to interrupt.” It was slow, but the man behind the mask moved the knife closer and closer to your chin until he was using the knife's edge to tilt your chin up. 

“I—“ Before you could speak, the man brought the knife down by his side and tilted his head. The silence that followed was all consuming as he just stared at your frozen, shaking and clearly terrified state. 

“Y/n?” He growled from behind the mask, all you did was stare at the mask. That all consuming, all encompassing mask that made your heart beat so hard inside your chest you swore your sternum was about to break “Run.” Was all he barked and that’s all it took for your flight or flight to kick in. 

“Help!” You shouted as you turned in the opposite direction and ran towards your front door. “Help me! Someone!” The masked man was right on your heels with heavy strides that made the timber flooding of your home creak with anticipation and excitement. 

Oh to be hunted, oh to be caught. 

You tried your best to get the front door unlocked in time but you just weren’t quick enough, or perhaps being caught was exactly what you wanted to happen. Just as you opened the front door and took two strides out onto the front porch—an all encompassing arm wrapped itself around your waist and the other wrapped itself around your mouth. 

Your eyes shot out of your skull as you felt yourself being dragged back inside your house. Your feet slipped under the anxiety of it all and soon enough you were on the ground being dragged back across the living room by the man in the GhostFace mask. 

“What’s the matter darlin’ I thought you said your boyfriend would be home any minute?” The man teased as he manhandled you up by your hair, forcing you up to your knees as your own hand came up to grip around his wrist, giving him two very firm squeezes in a row. Green, you were emerald green and everything in between as you clenched your teeth together and let your tears fall free. “I don’t see him anywhere?” 

It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, the feeling of being completely overpowered by someone. Being told you had no control, no say. 

“Fuck. You.” You spat as the man worked to pull off the black cloak he was wearing, revealing under a simple outfit of dark blue jean, a nice brown belt that matched the leather of his boots and a white-T. 

“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do.” You didn't register what that meant at first, but as you watched the man in the mask unbuckle his belt with one hand as he held onto your hair tightly with the other, that's when you started to feel the all too familiar heat pooling between your legs. 

“No!” You shouted as you tried to rip your hair out of his tight grasp. “No! Get away from me!” Kicking and screaming you tried your best to free yourself from your captor's hold, but it was to no avail. 

“My cocks been aching for your mouth since I saw you pop that candy into it.” There was a distinct primal need dripping from every word the masked man spoke as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down ever so slightly to reveal what you had been anticipating since before your phone rang for the first time that night. “Now you’re gonna suck me off like a good fucking girl before I gut you.” The threat could’ve been taken suggestively or literally, but as the man pumped his entire fist around the throbbing velvet length right in front or your face, you could have sworn you drooled. But you couldn't break character, not yet, it was far too early and you wanted to see just how far this could actually go before you had to tap out.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You turned your face to the right to try and save yourself from the ever looming sexual act you knew you were about to perform. Pre-cum oozed from the throbbing tip that looked exactly like the colour of your boyfriend's lips. A mix between pink and red, the perfect soft flesh colour that you adored. It looked just as pretty on his cock, but you would tell him that, not right now. 

Not when he was dressed up as your favourite Ghost Face Killer for Halloween Eve. 

“Uh uh uh–” His voice still sounded like his, but with the mask it muffled the familiar twang you had leant to love. Without that comfort this felt all too real, you weren't going to lie and say you weren't a little scared. But that's exactly what you had asked for when Jake had agreed to do this for you. To play into one of your biggest and longest standing sexual fantasies. “Don't you turn that pretty mouth away from me, we’re just getting to know each other.” 

“I'm not sucking your dick.” You hissed through gritted teeth as the masked man crouched down a little further and used his free hand to squish your cheeks together as you kneeled before him. “Fuck you!” 

“You have two options here.” He growled from behind the mask, if you looked close enough, you could see those familiar lips of his behind the darkness. “Either you do what I say, everything, without a fucking fuss–” There was a very distinct pause that the masked man made you sit in contemplation in before he told you your second option. The one he knew you wouldn't like very much. “Oh i'll just kill you, right here right now, no one will hear you scream, no one will know who did it, you’ll become a forgotten first kill because let's face it sweetheart, no one really gives a shit unless you're a final girl.” 

There had to be someone psychologically wrong with your brian and how it was hard wired to experience pleasure, because in that moment, in that very millisecond of time, your core throbbed at the thought of being used against your very willing will. The idea of consensual non consent had been brought up a few times, by you of course. Jake took a little while to come around. He wasn’t too keen on the whole idea of forcing himself on you, he wasn’t sure how it all worked, but once he understood the concept, once he understood how to act and how to communicate while you were deep, deep in that subspace scene he knew you loved, it became as easy as riding a bike for him to please you. 

“Well?” It was like he could see the cogs turning inside your mind as your eyes never left his from behind the mask. “What’s it gonna be?” When you didn’t answer and instead involuntarily shook in his grasp, Jake took a split second to check in on you. He stood up slowly, letting the hand that had once been squeezing your cheeks caress the side of your face as he pulled you closer to his hardened sex by your hair. “What colour?” 

“Green.” You replied and within a second, Jake had made your mind up for you and was guiding his tip between your lips. 

“Suck my dick sweetheart, come on, be a good girl for me.” It was hard to pretend to protest, but you tried to keep your mouth shut until Jake was gripping your hair a little tighter until you gasped at the pain. “That’s it, good fucking girl.” 

With eager hips Jake growned at the feeling of your mouth taking him in, so warm and tight around his throbbing girth. The mask he wore, the one that seemed to get you off to the heights of heights was humid from his open mouth breathing. But like hell was he about to ruin this roll play, he’d rather pass the fuck out than ruin the illusion the both of you had so perfectly orchestrated. 

“Oh god your boyfriend’s a lucky guy isn’t he?” You couldn’t help but to look up as the man in the mask looked down at you. Fuck—your panties were soaking, arousal pooled between your folds as you felt the very tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 

The eye contact was intense, you knew it was Jake but something about that damn mask had your head spinning so violently that your eyes watered with fear and need. You wanted to fight, to run, to fake the unwillingness to cooperate just to see how far Jake would go. 

“Don’t fight it baby—“ He growled as you strained to stop your head from bobbing up and down his length. “You’re doing such a good job, fucking whore of a thing aren’t you?” The feeling of his slightly calloused hands keeping your head right where he needed it to be was pure pleasure—being used like this, being told what to do even if you didn’t want to do it. “Fuck look at those tears, what are they for huh?” 

The man in the Ghostface mask, your boyfriend, Jake, dragged his thumb across your cheek to collect the tears that fell as he fucked your face to a rhythm that had him weak in the knees. 

“Ohhh god I’m so glad I didn’t decide to kill you straight away. Stupid girl—“ He went on to say as the tip of his hardened and throbbing cock bashed against your throat, making you gag around him before he held you still. He made sure that you couldn’t breathe, not while you were choking on him and only him. “Maybe this will teach you not to answer unknown numbers, there’s some fucked up people in this world sweetheart.” He teased as you pushed against his jean clad thighs, trying to push him away so that you could feel the sweet relief of oxygen returning to your lungs. “What did I just fucking say huh!?” 

“Let me ggoo—!” You screamed as the man in the mask pulled himself out of your mouth and let you go. He watched with a curious held hilt as you crawled away crying and gasping for air. “Get away from me!” 

Jake pumped his hand up and down his shaft a few laboured times before he stuffed himself back into his jeans and went after you with heavy strides. You hadn’t gotten far, but oh how thrilling and invigorating was it to be hunted in your own home. 

“Gee that boyfriend of yours is running real behind on schedule isn’t he?” The man in the mask chuckled as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were hiding just behind the countertop. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” He cooed childish as he stepped slowly, the floorboard squeaked under his boot as he did so. “Y/n, I know you’re in here sweetheart, why don’t you come out so I can cut you up.” 

You were careful not to make a sound as you placed your hands over your mouth and pulled your knees up close to your chest. Every second that passed? Your heart threatens to break out of your body. You knew deep down that the guy in the mask was Jake, but he was doing this a little too well. 

“You wanna play psycho killer?” You mumbled under your breath. You really didn’t know how you were going to get away, but you knew that the man in the mask was about to come around the corner and see you hiding clear as day. “Fine!!” 

As soon as Jake rounded the corner he was met with you first to his stomach with enough force that it had him doubling over. His moment of weakness gave you five seconds to run out of the kitchen and straight up the stairs. The plan all along has been to eventually end up in your bedroom. 

As you ran down the hall towards your bedroom, the man in the mask was quick to catch up. After all, this man was a highly skilled Naval Aviator who was fighting fit. You never stood a chance at getting away. 

“Ahhhh!” When you saw him in the mirror standing right behind you as you looked for a place to hide, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. This was what it was like to be hunted down, used, tormented. 

“What’s the matter Y/n?” The man teased as he tilted his head and stepped towards you, pointing the knife he held in his hand your way. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Leave me alone!!” The sound that came from you was something straight out of a horror movie as the man stepped closer and closer, completely ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop.

“Get on the bed—“ Was all he demanded as he pointed the knife to the mattress. “I said, get on the fucking bed!” 

“You’re gonna have to force me or kill me because I’m not letting you touch me again.” The standoff continued in the all consuming silence of your bedroom as your core throbbed and soaked your delicate panties. This was it, all the talks, the explanations, the ideas. They all boiled down to this moment. 

You trusted Jake Seresin with your life, so much so you let him in on a fantasy of yours, a kink so deep and nasty that you’d never told any of your ex boyfriends about. You didn’t trust them to do this with you. But Jake? Ten fold. 

“Colour?” It would be one of the last check in points before you got exactly what you wanted, what you so desperately craved. Jake remained in character as he once again looked you right in the eyes through his mask. 

“Green.” At your whimperious admission, Jake lunged at you with so much force it truly knocked the wind right out of your lungs. He had you pinned on the mattress within seconds of your admission. “GET OFF ME!” 

“Shut the fuck up.” The man’s hand came up to tightly wrap about your throat, squeezing the sides to restrict your breathing. “Now listen here and listen good, I’m gonna fuck you real good, and after you cum all over me—I’m gonna make sure no one ever finds out what happened to poor sweet Y/n when she was murdered in her own damn home.” 

You were manhandled by your neck and hips to flip over onto your stomach into that position you knew your body loved the most. Doggy style. Something about the angel always sent Jake's length so deep you swore the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust. 

You felt the edge of the man’s sharp blade run slowly over the fabric of your pyjama shirt, directly down your spine as you shivered under the touch.

“I bet you're a tight little thing.” Too afraid to move, you felt the elastic of your pyjamas pants slipping past your hips until the chill of your bedroom kissed your exposed cheeks. “Holy fuck look at you, you’ve ruined your panties.” The man growled as you heard him shimmering out of his jeans behind you. “Someone likes to be taunted, don’t you darlin’?” 

Again you could do anything but remain silent and shaking in fear as you felt the man’s hands trail up under your shirt, across your smooth ass and finally down between your dripping folds. The anticipation was all consuming. 

“That boyfriend of yours is a lucky guy—“ You saw a flash of white light illuminate your bedroom for a brief moment as you felt a hand pressing your head down into the mattress. Holy mother of god he’s taking photos. “I’ll need these for later.” He admitted as another flash went off. Photo after photo. 

“Please, please don’t do this—“ You cried as you felt the tip of his cock sliding up and down through your folds. Collecting all your arousal as he did so to slick up his length to fit right inside. “Please—“ 

“I love it when they beg.” Was all the masked man said before he was pushing himself inside you. Your eyes rolled so far back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure that you swore you saw your own soul. “Ohh fughh—such a pretty pussy you’ve got, go on, scream for me darlin, no one's gonna hear you.” 

“AHHHH!” With every frightful, pleasurable thrust you screamed into the mattress. “Stop! Stop please!” 

“Oh but you feel so fucking good.” The man growled as his free hand that wasn’t pressing your face into the mattress came up to slap your ass. You jolted from the sting. “Look at that, so reactive.”

Again you felt another sharp slap as the man behind you quickened his pace. 

“Ah fuck!”

“That’s it baby, I know you love it—“ The man let go of your head as his hands came to hold

Your hips tighter than ever before, pulling you back into him as you tried to get away. “I know you love this, being used, don’t run away, stay right here on my cock.”

Jake didn’t let up as he fucked deep and hard into your push from behind. You couldn’t see the mask, but the idea of him wearing it was even to have you seeing stars. Every thrust brought you closer to that ever looming orgasm that threatened to crash over you and every slap against your ass sent you further and further into that sun space where you could just feel and exist. 

“Dirty fucking thing look at you, fucking a killer.” The man taunted you as he pulled you up by your hair so that your back was flush against his chest. When did he remove his shirt? Was it when he took his jeans off? Did he also take the mask off? “Unbutton your shirt.” He hissed as he slowed down the pace to a barely there rhythm. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you like it was dying to coat your velvet walls. 

“I said!” The man held the knife to your throat as he fucked you slowly from behind, keeping your back pressed against his chest. “Unbutton your shirt—“ 

With shaking hands and the inability to fully comprehend how pleasure filled and ignited your nerve endings were, you slowly but surely unbuttoned your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra. The black lace one Jake adored to no end. 

It matched the panties you’d ruined, the ones the man had dragged down your legs along with your pyjamas pants. 

“What colour?” When you didn’t answer straight away Jake frowned behind his Ghostface mask and dragged the knife away from your neck along your sternum towards your core. “Sweetheart, it’s me, I’m here, what colour are you?” The gentle words broke through the blinding spell of the role play situation you were in. It was all fake, you were safe, Jake would never do anything to hurt you. “It’s me, just me.” 

“Green—“ That was all Jake needed before he was pushing you back down onto the mattress, he manhandled you expertly so that he was on top, sliding back into you like you were his home, like you were made just for him. “Ahh! Fuck!!”

“Naughty little thing—“ He growled behind the mask that hovered over you. His hips slammed into yours as he hovered over you with a hand on either side of your body. “I can feel you trembling.”

That coil had begun to wind to new heights as you wrapped your legs around Jake's waist and dragged your nails down his back. You were getting close, oh so close to that orgasmic euphoria you’d been searching for since that first phone call. 

“Ohh fuck yes I can feel you gripping my dick, ohhh fuck, that’s it sweetheart, bet you wish that boyfriend of yours could see you like this huh?” The taunting mixed with the rhythm of Jake's rutts we’re sending you towards the edge of the cliff face you wanted so desperately to jump off. The mask that was staring you right in the face though, that’s what was doing it the most for you. “You wanna come? Wanna cum like a little whore all over my dick?” 

Needy little cries were all you could reply with as the man in the mask trailed one hand down between your bodies to circle the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’m close too, which means you’re gonna be full of my cum, dripping, completely stuffed full of my load.” He moaned through the mask as your back arched and your eyes rolled. You were so deep into your sun space Jake hardly recognised the please in your eyes. “Colour?” 

“I’m coming!” It was all you had the energy to say before your cries and whimpers and desperate pleas all mixed together into a babbling mantra of euphoric high. Your back arched all the way up till your stomach was pressed against Jakes and he was following within seconds. Seeing you like this, so spent and fucked out and blissfully under control made the orgasm that was pooling at the base of his shaft shoot up to overcome his entire being. 

“Ah shit! Fuck fuck fuck fuck, baby yes—ahhhh Christ!” It was one of the most intense orgasms Jake Seresin had ever had. The load he pumped inside you was thick and heavy and dripped around his shaft as he continued to fuck you deeper and fuck you through your own high. 

His back bled from your nails scraping down his muscles, but he didn’t mind, they were worth it to see you like this. 

The second he could, Jake was taking the Ghostface mask off and coaxing you to look at him while he was still buried deep inside you. Tears welled in your eyes as old tears stained your cheeks. His gentle touch made you jump. 

“Shhh baby it’s me, just me.” 

“Jake.” You sobbed as he came down to kiss your lips as gently as ever before trailing those same soft kisses across your collarbone as you came down. 

“It’s just me darlin’ you did so well for me.” He whispered sweet nothings across your fiery skin. “You played along so well.” Jake knew you were gonna take a while to come down, he knew it would take a while for you to process everything, from the phone call to the oral to the knife okay. But he already had a plan in place and a surprise organised for you tomorrow night. 

“I’m gonna run us a bath.” Jake mumbled against your skin as he left a few marks behind in his wake. You swallowed heavily in response as your body continued to experience the after effects of being so deep into role play. “I love you so much, thankyou for letting me in, for letting me bring your fantasies to life.” 

“Are you staying with me in the bath?” You could barely speak as Jake helped you up, handing you your pyjama short back as he dismounted from your bed. His cock remained flaccid and coated in a mix of your arousal and his cum. 

It was just as important to receive the aftercare than to experience the high. Jake was good like that, and you’d discussed this beforehand with him. That you’d need time to come down after and just be held and brought back to earth. Jake was more than accommodating to your needs. 

“Absolutely, I’m not going anywhere.” You managed a smile as you watched Jake pick up the Ghostface mask and stare at it. “You know there were two of these guys right?” Jake smirked as he threw it over onto your bedside table. “Kinda makes you wonder how far we could take this role play kink of yours.” 

“Who’d be your Stu Macher?” You asked as you stood from the bed to give Jake a kiss so gently it was like the wings of a butterfly had handed against his cheeks. “It’s bath time Loomis.” You cooed as you patted Jake's shoulder twice. “Come on.” 

“I’ll wash your hair for you.” Jake followed you into the bathroom eagerly before he shut the door behind him. It was good to be home. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“This is awesome.” Javy beamed when he saw you and Jake at the annual Seresin family Halloween party. The Daggers had all been granted a week's grace and they all decided to utilise the time off to attend the celebration. “Sidney and Billy, that’s awesome.” 

“If only he knew—“ Jake whispered in your ear as you giggled and pushed at his chest. You were still buzzing from your night with Jake. High on the ecstasy his Ghostface impersonation gave you. “Come on now, don’t act all shy.” Jake teased as he kissed you tenderly, tilting your chin up with his index finger. The costume was really making you dizzy, you were still all consumed by your burning desire to act out your wildest fantasies. 

“Oh.” You felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. “Huh.” You had to laugh at the irony. “It’s an unknown number?” You turned your phone to Jake as he smirked and nodded.

“You should answer it.” After all, he did have a surprise for you. “Go on now, don’t be shy.” With confusion laced into the lines and fake blood on your face, you swipt your phone along the screen and held it to your ear all the while you kept eye contact with Jake. 

“Hello?” You asked cautiously, still not sure what the hell was going on. 

“Wanna play a game?” Bradley spoke through the phone as you caught sight of him behind Jake’s shoulder. Dressed in that all too familiar ghost face costume. After all, there were always two killers. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: 🏷️ @attapullman @330bpm-whiplash @mamachasesmayhem @echo-ethe @avengersgirllorianna @nmw-am @eli2447 @hookslove1592 @kmc1989 @seitmai @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Prompts I’ve seen/found online that I have used an inspiration for many things, but mainly DP X DC stuff.

There’s 200 prompts/quotes in there

1. They match each other’s freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public.

2. People often mistake me for an adult because of my age.

3. “I have a solution.”

“Thank goodness.”

“It involves fire.”

“Absolutely not.”

4. Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?

5. We can’t have a crisis - my schedule is already full!

6. “What’s our exit strategy?”

“Our what?”

“We’re all going to die.”

7. That is a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea. Let’s do it and see what happens.

8. “This coffee tastes weird.”

“That’s probably because it’s not coffee.”

9. “Can I bother you for a second?”

“You always bother me, but go ahead.”

10. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“So sharpening knives at 2am is just a hobby?”

11. I’m going to give my inner child a gun.

12. Your inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart.

13. I get so affectionate when I’m sleepy it’s disgusting.

14. Leaving a watermelon on someone’s doorstep in the middle of the night is a pretty inexpensive way to occupy a portion of their mind forever.

15. No offence to myself or anything but what the fuck am I doing.

16. I would love to be mysterious but I never shut the fuck up.

17. The divorce rate amongst my socks is astonishing.

18. Adulthood is a scam I want to be a crow.

19. Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everybody’s problem.

20. My house is haunted because I live there.

21. That’s my emotional support entity of questionable moral standing.

22. God released me into the wild and now he’s hunting me for sport.

23. No, no you don’t want to get to know me, I’m better as a concept.

24. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to pretend I can’t hear.

25. Do birds every just fly for fun or are they always on some kind of mission?

26. The older I get the more I understand why roosters scream to start their day.

27. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older.’ I am older and I understand absolutely nothing.

28. Source? It was revealed to me in a delusion.

29. Why do drugs after 30 when you can just stand up too fast?

30. I won’t ever be the bigger person in an argument. God made me 5’ for a reason.

31. This meeting could have been a fist fight.

32. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m never going to have a midlife crisis because my entire fucking life is a crisis.

33. Anyone fancy going off the fucking rails with me I’ve had enough.

34. Go ahead and get in the pond since you wanna act like a silly goose.

35. My life is like a romantic comedy except there’s no romance and it’s just me laughing at my own jokes.

36. Who the fuck decided to call it ‘emotional baggage’ and not ‘griefcase?’

37. I don’t have a nervous system. I am a nervous system.

38. “What makes us human?”

“Selecting all of the images with traffic lights.”

39. Don’t let anyone else ruin your day. It’s your day. Ruin it yourself.

40. The sixth love language is combat.

41. “I just told you 2 minutes ago.”

“I do not control the remember.”

42. Due to not wanting to. I will not be.

43. My flabbers be gasted daily.

44. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Like a hallucination, a therapist, or a person?”

45. “You’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you I try my best.”

46. I tried to embrace my inner child today and the little asshole bit me.

47. I think my dark under eye circles are adding to the aesthetic actually.

48. Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot.

49. Next time I’m opening up to someone will be at my autopsy.

50. Too many songs about love. Not enough song about sword fights.

51. “You’re cute.”

“I’m feral and chaotic, don’t touch me.”

52. I’m not as unhinged as I could be and I want everyone to be great full for that.

53. How dare you know stuff about things.

54. “I have a plan.”

“Is it a good one?”

“I have a plan.”

55. “Are you decent?”

“Not morally, but I’m wearing pants if that’s what you’re asking.”

56. I may have the right to remain silent but I do not have the ability.

57. I don’t want to look ‘pretty.’ I want to look otherworldly and vaguely threatening.

58. If you ever feel safe please remember that I’m out there.

59. “I’m too good for revenge.”

“Well I’m not. Give me the gun.”

60. “You know I really feel like we aren’t seeing eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re taller than me asshole.”

61. “They rely on you.”

“I can’t be blamed for their lack of judgment..”

62. Well, aren’t you a little Ray of pitch black.

63. I can get behind murder but I draw the line at misogyny.

64. In my defence your honour, I simply do not vibe with the law.

65. Life is a tornado and I’m just the cow being spun around for cinematic value.

66. You can burn all the sage you want, I’ll be back.

67. I believe in holding grudges. I’ll heal in hell.

68. You know…they make medication for the way you act.

69. I like men with massive, throbbing vocabularies.

70. My swear jar could finance the fucking space program.

71. “Well if you want my opinion-”

“I don’t. I have my own.”

72. I’m awake but not operational.

73. Due to personal reasons I’ll be going back to sleep.

74. The bags under my eyes are Prada.

75. I identify as a threat. My pronouns are try/me.

76. Audacity must be on sale this year…

77. “Have you ever been handcuffed?”

“Sexually or by law enforcement?”

78. I don’t like salad or eye contact.

79. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Just come here.”

“No you’re gonna hit me!”

80. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

81. I have to keep reminding myself that I am an adult and will be charged as one.

82. Apparently ‘spite’ is not an appropriate answer to ‘what motives you?’

83. There is a fine line between my crazy and my intelligence. I use that line like a jump rope.

84. I don’t know where you got your opinion but I hope you kept the receipt.

85. Sometimes when I close my eyes…I can’t see.

86. Is being stupid a profession or are you just gifted?

87. Some days the supply of available curse words is insufficient to meet my demands.

88. I’m running out of reasons to not stab you.

89. When I said ‘how stupid can you be?’ It wasn’t a challenge.

90. Love at first sight? Tired, boring. Love at first assassination attempt? Spicy.

91. I’m sorry I don’t take orders. I barley take suggestions.

92. And that’s a wrap on another day where I acted like I knew what I was doing.

93. Now if you’ll excuse me…tonight’s bad decision isn’t going to make itself.

94. I take super hot showers to practice burning in hell.

95. I wanna be 14 again and ruin my life differently. I have new ideas.

96. Don’t be ashamed of who you are. That’s your parent’s job.

97. Being an adult is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

98. If I’m ever murdered, feel comfort in knowing I ran my mouth until the bitter end.

99. My spirit animal would fucking eat yours.

100. Some people will only like you if you fit inside their box. Don’t be afraid to shove that box up their ass.

101. I wonder if people look both ways before getting on my fucking nerves.

102. If I was a bird, I know who I’d shit on.

103. Giving a fuck doesn’t really go with my outfit.

104. I’m not insulting you, I’m describing you.

105. Life is full of disappointments and I just added you to the list.

106. And then I decided to take a detour to deliver an ass beating.

107. I wanna contribute to the chaos.

108. I’m gay and also stronger than all of you. So don’t try any shit.

109. With all due respect, which is none

110. What, pray tell, the fuck?

111. My arson charges don’t define me.

112. Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range.

113. I don’t understand your specific kind of crazy but I do admire your total commitment to it.

114. I am not above slashing my own tires to avoid going to this family brunch.

115. I don’t want to heal my inner child I want them to get revenge.

116. In order to insult me I must first value your opinion. Nice try though.

117. There’s someone for everyone and the person for you is a psychiatrist.

118. Keep rolling your eyes, maybe you’ll find a brain back there.

119. I think my guardian angel drinks.

120. In my defence, I was left unsupervised.

121. I believe in you. I also believe in Bigfoot so don’t get too excited.

122. If you figure me out I want an explanation.

123. I don’t think I meet the height requirements to ride your emotional roller coaster.

124. When killing them with kindness doesn’t work, try voodoo.

125. Another fine day ruined by responsibility.

126. You call them swear words. I call them sentence enhancers.

127. Stop petting my peeves.

128. What a year this week has been.

129. Don’t follow me I don’t know where I’m going.

130. Due to unfortunate circumstances, I am awake.

131. I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

132. Please don’t interrupt me while I’m ignoring you.

133. Everyone has the right to be stupid but you’re abusing the privilege.

134. I just know I will die trying to pet something I shouldn’t.

135. At this point, if a clown invited me into the woods, I’d just go.

136. I told him to take care of his eyes because they’re the only balls he has.

137. The trash gets picked up tomorrow. Be ready.

138. My last words will probably be sarcastic.

139. We don’t have time to unpack all that.

140. I may have committed light treason.

141. How is ‘pretty boy’ supposed to be an insult? I’m the prettiest goddamn boy in this town.

142. I’m not interested in being polite or heterosexual.

143. “Based on statistical evidence, I’m immortal.”

“How so?”

“Haven’t died yet.”

144. I’m just here to establish an alibi.

145. Take the day off from being the bigger person and choose violence, you deserve it.

146. Forgive and forget? I’m neither Jesus nor do I have alzheimers.

147. People are so ungrateful. No one ever thanks me for having the patience to not kill them.

148. “I can see your bra.”

“Fucking good it was expensive.”

149. Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.

150. My idea of ‘help from above’ is a sniper on the roof.

151. “We’re surrounded!”

“Excellent, we can attack in any direction!

152. Lord give me patience or an untractable handgun.

153. Step back! I’m a professional idiot!

154. “Trust your gut.”

“I have anxiety. My gut is always telling me to abort mission.”

155. Keep your morals away from me.

156. Your existence gives me a headache go stand over there.

157. What, from the bottom of my heart, the fuck?

158. My heart is not a home for cowards.

159. Underestimate me so I can embarrass you.

160. “It’ll be easy. You just have to seduce them.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m about as seductive as a cabbage.”

161. You’ve got heart, kid. Several hearts. Honestly, I’m a little scared of you.

162. It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did.

163. I’m no doctor - but I think he’s dead.

164. I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.

165. “What brings you here?”

“A continuum of terrible choices.”

“You’d be surprised to know how often people say that.”

166. “I thought we agreed to tell each other when we were bleeding internally.”

“That’s a very specific promise I don’t remember making.”

167. “Did you really google how to flirt with a girl?”

“What? How’d you know that?”

“You do realise there’s a search history?”

168. “I’m gonna…”

“If you kick down the door, I swear…”

“I’M GONNA PUNCH IT WITH MY FOOT!”

169. “Is it still murder if I give them a heads up?”

“That’s a threat.”

“Damn.”

170. Surprise! I’m back from the dead! Isn’t that exciting?

171. Don’t mind me, I’ll just be in the corner, having another existential crisis.

172. I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.

173. You’re important to me you piece of shit.

174. “Why are your hands purple?”

“That’s a very good question.”

175. Can someone turn off the sun please?

176. “I had a thought.”

“Oh no.”

“I swear it’s a good one this time!”

177. I’ve met bread smarter than you.

178. “Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out.”

“Oh, well if YOU don’t like it.”

179. Dude, we are not asking the dragon for directions.

180. You’ve got as much charm as a dead slug.

181. For you, I could steal the stars - but I can also get them through legitimate means, if that impresses you more.

182. I am under no obligation to make sense to you.

183. You smile like an idiot when you’re talking to them.

184. Don’t you sign to me in that tone.

185. Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.

186. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t care. Shut up.”

187. Now that I made it weird, I’m going to make my exit.

188. So uh, I noticed you’re kinda naked. Is that intentional or…?

189. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Smart man.”

190. Well, if you’d woken up properly the first time I kicked you, I wouldn’t have had to do it four more times.

191. “I have NEVER been so insulted.”

“You don’t listen much, do you?”

192. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Yup. I just don’t care.”

193. I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into. I just thought it would be amusing.

194. I would tell you to be yourself but that almost got us killed last time.

195. “Why aren’t you worshipping me, mortal?”

“Not interested. Thanks.”

196. “I’d rather be dead.”

“Then I have some good news for you.”

197. “Did you hear that scream?”

“Yes, I’m the one who screamed.”

198. “What happened to your-”

“I lost a bet.”

“Why-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

199. Reading way above my grade level didn’t get me as far in life as I had hoped.

200. Due to foreseen circumstances well within my control I will be late.

[vigilskeep]

mairyn is my idea of a hawke who was really defined by the horrors of ostagar. even as the warden, up in the tower, we never quite experience what it was like down in the mud when the banners started going down and the battle rush turned to panic

she was one of the first to desert when the tide began to turn, blindly shooting down anyone—darkspawn or fellow soldier—who tried to stand between her and getting her brother and getting out. her commanding officer had been a gruff but honourable nobleman, a mentor figure who’d taken a chance on a scoundrel with a tongue too sharp for her own good. she doesn’t know what happened to him, whether if in his final moments he had been thankful she’d fled or cursed her for abandoning him. all she knows is that in the days between ostagar and lothering, his old mabari found her, and has limped along in her shadow since

her life is definitely cleanly cut down the middle between ‘before’ and ‘after’. i like the absence of ostagar in what we see, because i like the idea that the one thing mairyn would make varric promise is to cut ostagar and carver’s death from the story, as he does in the exaggerated intro. one story she won’t tell, like his bianca

she’s evenly weighted purple/red, restless and resentful, saying whatever will cut the deepest or spark the most laughter, anything to have an impact, start a fight, dodge the personal. she’s definitely rushing through life, going for everything that’s exciting and dangerous and fun, quick to leave baggage behind. she’s still running from ostagar. the only time she stopped was to drag carver to safety, and it was for nothing, just to lose him anyway. she won’t make the same mistake again. she loves her family, sure, on the days she doesn’t want to strangle them, but no matter what her father asked her to do—play the third parent and always be a protector for her siblings, like she would never have her own life, like she didn’t matter—she’s going to live for what she wants. running has to be the right answer, the only thing anyone can do, because if it isn’t, she’ll have to face what she did that night at ostagar

pretty unfortunate that she’s about to fall in love with a lot of people who can’t be truly saved, but need you to stop and try anyway!

also her entire aesthetic in my head is based on this one hawke concept art:

wet cat of a woman. horrible kirkwall ghoul. you should never be completely sure somebody didn’t fish her out of the docks this morning

[lemonsprite]

Hello can I ask for BG3 Halsin x reader?

Usually people depict the reader as ageless but I was wondering if you can do anything with a reader that's also up in their 300s? They could probably relate on many thing that come with a long lifespan and stuff

Thanks and have a nice day (I know this is like probably brainless time from me but the summer heat is getting me my brain left me)

Thank you guys for all the Halsin ideas I luv my bear husband TT

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 || 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: Halsin can’t remember the last time he’s met someone like you

Word Count:

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!!! nothing!! Just pure silliness

A/N: I had SUCH bad writers block with this one so I apologize if it’s actual doodoo TT but I love writing the bg3 party dynamic sm ugh

Halsin was used to being a pile of dust when compared to all his friends and companions. Despite only being in the middle stages of his life for an elf, he’d lived much longer than those around him.

Part of that knowledge made his heart ache in a weird bittersweet mixture of emotions. Living as long as he did caused him to see the rise of fall of friends and lovers and there was nothing he could do about it. It seemed like a cycle he was doomed too, one that would unfold the same as always.

Halsin knew almost no elves the same absurdly old age as him.

“Karlach I don’t think the camp really needs another cantaloue… we haven’t even finished the other two Wyll bought three days ago…” chided Halsin, placing a hand on top of Karlach’s and slowly guiding the round fruit in her hands back into the market stall.

“Yeah but mate, what’s gonna happen when shadowheart gets her midnight cravings and eats both cantaloupes in one night?” Pouted Karlach, gripping tightly to the fruit. “What will I eat then…? If you think about it… this purchase is just a tactical strategy…”

Halsin gave her a look, one he was all too familiar with when dealing with those much younger and less wise than him.

Karlach sighed and dropped the cantaloupe, making her way to another stall that sold hand made yarn woven weapon sheaths. (Not the best in terms of practicality but very aesthetically pleasing)

“Do you have this in a size Large?” Asked a voice and before Halsin could catch himself, he found his gaze landing on the stranger beside him. Also an elf from what he could tell with their pointed ears.

“The smithy by the Rivington general store sells the same armour for a cheaper price.” Suggested Halsin, moving slightly closer to the new bystander.

“I could…” he coughed, clearing his throat. “Show you the way if you need?”

Halsin had no idea what he was doing. One second, the elf was scolding Karlach and the next he was flirting with a complete stranger. Something in your eyes, the way you held yourself made him want to know you better, hear you speak his name.

“That would be nice…” you smiled, politely putting the not purchased armour back on the market stand and turning to Halsin.

A large crash resounded behind Halsin and he whipped around to find Karlach standing above a pile of shattered porcelain. Like a large dog unaware of how big she was.

“Hey you gotta pay for that!” Angrily shouted the storekeeper as he looked incredulously from Karlach to the shattered pottery.

“That one yours?” You asked, nodding your head in the direction of the destructive tiefling.

Halsin nodded, watching as Karlach tearfully handed over the little money she had.

“I’ve got nine of them back at camp.” He said wistfully, thinking back to the ruckus and chaos of camp.

“I’ve been on my own for awhile now…” you hummed, walking with Halsin as he began to lead you to the nearby smithy, Karlach jogging to reach up with the two of you.

“I’m Halsin.” He smiled. “And this is my friend Karlach.”

“Oh I know you! I spent a century with the emerald enclave, they spoke very highly of you.” You grinned, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your tunic as you walked.

Karlach smiled brightly, nodding her head eagerly. “You should see when he wildshapes! The bear is quite cute.”

“You were apart of the emerald enclave?” Halsin asked, pleasantly bemused as the city surroundings grew less and less frequent and more bursting countryside surrounded him.

“Not apart.” You explained, giving Halsin a sheepish smile. “Just lived with them a good while, even during that big battle with Ketheric Thorm back in the day, helped as much as I could.”

“I can’t remember the last time I’d met an elf who can recall such a time.” Halsin smiled gently. “Say… would you like to join us for dinner at our camp?”

Karlach gave Halsin a knowing smirk.

“That sounds amazing.” You grinned. “I’d love too.”

Despite the scene of utter chaos unfolding around him, Halsin couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes from your thoughtful gaze.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel were currently arm wrestling for dominance while Gale fought back Astarion, telling him dinner wasn’t quite ready yet.

Halsin had brought you to a quite hill nearby, overlooking all the drama as you two had a quite chat.

“Can’t remember the last time I had a dinner like this.” You quipped, causing the grass to rustle as you leaned back.

“Would you… want to stay…?” Halsin asked shyly, weirdly awkward for a man of his calibre. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, his usual confident and wise facade slowly melting. You made him feel like a dumb kid again, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“It would be nice to have someone older with a little more wisdom join the party… I don’t think me and Jaeheria can last another day…” he added with a soft laugh, joining you in the grass.

“Jaeheria’s here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen her in two hundred years.”

“You should stay.” He urged. “I also… just really want to know you better.”

Halsin gently placed his hand on top of yours in the grass, giving you enough time to pull away if you need.

“Yeah… yeah I’d like that.” You smiled, running your thumb over his knuckles and lifting your face to meet his rich hazel gaze.

[pimosworld]

Only if you catch me

Pairing- Frankie Morales × flreader

Chapter Summary- You and Frankie have your second date and things get tense for both of you after Benny’s fight.

Chapter Warning- 18+, MDNI, Smut, mentions of addiction, angst, fluff, kissing, sexual tension, flirting, fingering, hint of exhibitionism, protective reader, unprotected piv, soft dom Frankie. (No longer a slow burn)

WC-9.6k

A/N- I’m officially obsessed with these two, cue the Frankie Friday show because he certainly puts on one this chapter.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter 3. Flash

Casual, 7 pm. 

  A pattern you recognized with Frankie that he didn’t offer many details when it came to your dates so far. Maybe it was the military in him that kept things concise and to the point. Or it could be that he likes surprises, craves spontaneity to keep things exciting. 

  You hope he knows that it doesn’t always have to be like this. With him you could be doing absolutely nothing and still have an amazing time. 

  It was starting to scare you how much your sleeping and waking thoughts were consumed by Frankie. His good morning calls or texts. His sweet messages throughout the day. The way he didn’t mind you falling asleep at night while you were on the phone only to wake up and hear him snoring on the other end. 

  You had some boring shoot for a law firm in the middle of the week. Not your favorite gigs but it paid the bills. One of those sleazy law firms that would take anyone’s money, their faces plastered on every bus and billboard they could get their hands on. This was not an aesthetic shot-but you respected yourself more than that to phone it in. 

  Of course these men could care less that you were trying to do the job they paid you for and instead insisted on wasting your time but trying to flirt with you in between shots. Literally and figuratively speaking, you would have to do your best to hide the blood shot eyes as they sipped on cheap whiskey in fancy glasses. You finished the job and hastily  wrapped it up to say your goodbyes as you made your way out to the parking lot when you noticed one of the lawyers following you. Afraid you’d left something important you waited for him to approach your car but to your dismay with the liquor flowing through his veins you could see he wanted nothing more than to ruin your day. He leaned on your car, his eyes half lidded slurring something about calling you. The pungent smell of his breath taking you to a place you didn’t want to think about.

  You had texted Frankie the location of the law firm and just like a knight in shining armor you hear his truck roar into the parking lot. 

  A look you’re certain would make your worst enemy shit their pants was on his face when he hopped out the drivers side and made his way around to you both. 

  “Just in time to take you to lunch.” His voice is so sweet to you as he leans in and kisses your cheek. 

  “Francisco Morales.” He grits out as he takes the man’s hand. 

  “Walters…John Walters.”He grimaces under his intense grip and you have to hide your smile behind your hand. 

  Frankie releases his grip not wanting to touch him any longer. He can smell the alcohol coming out of his pores and it makes his skin crawl. He turns to you not wanting to waste another moment and hoping this guy gets the hint and takes a hike. 

  “You okay baby?” His thumb grazes your cheek where his lips just were and you swallow thick. 

  “I am now.” 

  Nothing happened and really you were fine, but the look in his eyes is so sincere that you wonder what happened to make him this way. 

  “Come on, let’s get you some lunch and then I’ll follow you home.” The switch has your head spinning as he guides you into the passenger seat. 

  And he does just that. 

  You have a quick lunch and he takes you home, ever the gentleman. Right now you were wishing he would lay off the routine and be a little bolder. Your pace. You asked for this and he’s respecting your wishes. 

  ****

  6:55 pm 

  There’s a light knock on your door and you have to slow down to not seem like you were waiting next to it. Your heart thumps hard in your chest when you open it and see him standing there. 

  His wet curls poking out under his cap. The long line of his neck and the way his tee shirt hugs all the right places. The worn, faded jeans sitting low on his hips and the small gold belt buckle just barely showing. 

  There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t gauge. His hands fidget at his side as he hovers in the doorway. He looks a little flustered as he takes you in. 

  You somehow make casual look like the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. The cotton black dress that hits mid thigh, your light oversized denim shirt hanging just a little lower than the dress. That familiar smell of something that you’re always shrouded in that leaves him feeling at home. The way you cling to his clothes long after he’s gone from you. 

  Your soft hand taking his to lead him inside and this is dangerous territory when he’s trying to go at your pace. The way he instinctively pulls you into him as your other hand wraps around his neck and pulls him into a kiss that lasts almost too long to call it a hello. 

  You drop your bag as he backs you up against the couch and you can feel the hard press in his jeans at the thought of you. The way his hands grip your waist like you’re going to vanish into thin air. 

  It would be so easy to let him take you down your hall into your bedroom and let him bring down those walls you’ve built up over the last year. As he pulls away with a groan when you take his bottom lip between your teeth you know you’re being unfair. 

  Because he’s being a gentleman and you’re being a tease. 

  But the build up is the best part. The anticipation of waiting and waiting for the right moment. 

  “Hi.” It’s the innocent way you say it, like you didn’t almost just have him committing several sins. 

  He takes off his cap, his cheeks flushed and his face distressed as he runs his fingers deliriously through his hair. “Hi.” He huffs out. “I missed you.” 

  I missed you so much it scares me. 

  “Me too.” 

  The most simple task is daunting because I can’t focus on anything else. 

  You can tell now that normal introductions are in the past. Gone are the days where you can give him a brief hug or a kiss on the cheek. 

  Frankie knows if he doesn’t get a grip he runs the risk of making you his new high. You deserve much better than that. You’re not a quick fix or an impulsive decision. You are the only person that makes him feel good. Good in a way that he’s never felt. 

  “You ready for our second date?” He smiles at the way you can’t meet his eyes when he mentions it. 

  “Of course. Where are we going?” He fits your hand in his as he leads you to the door. 

  “You’ll find out when we get there.” 

  ****

  His hand has found a home in what you’ve coined his normal spot on your thigh. The innocent reassuring gesture of his thumb grazing back and forth is making goosebumps rise on your skin. 

  Your eyes follow the trail of his hand, the thick veins on his arm up the path to his large biceps. He stretches his neck and you watch his throat bob when he swallows and you want to trace your tongue alongside it. 

  Fuck. You need a distraction, anything besides looking at his gorgeous face. 

  You try to focus on the road, the trees passing you by. The town in the rearview as you approach the outskirts and you glance back into the cab of his truck to see a pile of-

  “Eyes forward missy.” He fixes you with a look and then averts his gaze back to the road. Something about the command in his tone is not making your situation any better. “Don’t want you to ruin the surprise.” 

  You laugh and shake your head. “I’m gonna start calling you Mr. Surprise.” 

  “You can call me Mr. Morales if you’d like.” His voice dropping to an octave you almost don’t register. 

  You raise your eyebrows at that. Taking his hand off your thigh to kiss his palm. Feeling his pulse thrum against your lips when you trail a little higher. Your teeth graze his vein and you hear a low growl emit from his chest. 

  It seems you’ve decided to pick up your pace a little and Frankie isn’t going to stop whatever this is. The energy in his truck has changed to something feverish. The feel of your soft lips on his arm and his hairs stand up as you graze your teeth along his pulse point. 

  “You’re playing a dangerous game baby.” No real sense of seriousness in his tone. 

  You drop his hand and place it a little higher than its original position and he squeezes. Not missing the way your legs adjust to let him in. 

  “Too dangerous?” 

  He just shakes his head. “Lucky for you I can handle heavy machinery under pressure.” His eyes back on the road as to not watch where it’s disappearing under your dress. 

  But thankful or not so when he hears your breath catch in your throat at the sight of reaching the destination. 

  Your excited squeals as the large screens come into view and his chest swells with pride because he’s planned yet another successful surprise for you. 

  ****

  He had to contain himself for now. 

  He’s excited to get the date underway as you sit in the cab of the truck waiting patiently for him to set up the pillows and blankets in the bed. He found the perfect spot in the middle-back, just enough privacy to have you all to himself. 

  You haven’t been to the drive-ins in ages. Not since you were a teenager, hormones raging and nervousness thrumming deep in your bones. Not much different than tonight except your date is exceedingly more handsome and capable than the brace faced junior that spent so long trying to unclasp your bra that you both gave up and sat in silence for the remainder of fast and the furious. 

  A veteran pilot that’s maneuvered in live fire and the likes will undeniably have more practiced hands when it comes to you. 

  You gently work open the truck slider window to observe his meticulous set up for the night. He lays out a navy blue fleece blanket that looks so velvety. Next he spreads a large knitted throw in a burnt orange shade. He places a few oversized pillows with flannel covers along the back and tucks a few into the sides. 

  Frankie’s attention to detail was so evident as he fluffs each pillow and smooths out the blankets, despite knowing you were going to mess them up once you laid out. Finally he sets out a few decorative throw pillows at the bed of the truck. He claps his hands, sitting back on his haunches signaling he’s done. 

  He catches your eyes when he hears you laugh at his scrupulous preparation. 

  “I told you no peeking.” He points at you as he crawls toward the open window. 

  You shrug as you bite your bottom lip. “I didn’t have anything to look at.” 

  He shifts his hat to the back and before you have time to process what that does to you he’s kissing you. You lean into it to meet him as his broad shoulders push against the frame. He pulls away all too soon leaving you a little breathless. 

  “So, what do you think?” You sense some sad apprehension in his eyes that you want to wipe away. 

  He watches your eyes roam over him, stopping somewhere near his throat. “I think I want to join you on the other side of this window.” 

  ****

  Outside the sky is deepening into twilight, you’re nestled under the blankets with Frankie. His sturdy legs bracketing you in as you lean against his chest. The calmness of his breathing lulling you into some waking daydream. 

  “Do I get to know what we’re seeing?” Your head back in time to see the dimple creasing his face. 

  “Have you not learned by now hermosa?” Sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

  You huff out in frustration, fixing your eyes to the blank white screen. “Surprises, surprises.” 

  His laugh moves you quite literally and figuratively. 

  He cranes his neck at the sound of crunching gravel and a young man probably high school age approaches with a tray of food. He adjusts to take the tray from him as he sends you a nervous smile. Frankie hands him a wad of cash and the boy's eyes go wide as saucers as he goes to protest and Frankie just tells him to keep it. 

  He glances into the truck bed and shakes his head in disbelief. “Thanks sir, I really appreciate this.” He holds the tip up before depositing it into his front pocket. 

  “That was very kind of you Frankie.” You say sincerely as you turn to face him. 

  He blushes as he lays out the tray of hotdogs and popcorn. “I was young once….I remember needing some extra money to help my family.” He doesn’t finish his thought and you let the moment pass between you in understanding, not wanting to delve deeper into that part of yourselves yet. 

  As you both eat in contented silence the familiar crackle of the speakers sound from the cab of the truck. The screen flickers to life showing a sun soaked beach as the waves crash against the rocks. Danny and Sandy walk hand in hand and you pause mid bite as the opening chords of ‘summer nights’ start to play. 

  “No way.” You exclaim softly as a delighted grin speaks across your face. “I love Grease.”

  Frankie’s watching you closely. “I thought you’d like that.” His tone filled with a quiet satisfaction. 

  “It’s like we’re having our own little grease moment.” 

  He hums as he sets the trays out of the way and pulls you back into his embrace. “I guess you could say that. Just missing a convertible and our own summer romance soundtrack.” 

  You laugh and someone shushes you nearby causing you both to chuckle before he presses a kiss to your temple. He mumbles something unintelligible but along the lines of ‘behave’ and his tone has you wanting to do anything but. 

  You manage to settle down and watch the movie, Frankie loves when you sing along as you sway in his arms. If he had known he would have to wait a lifetime to have this with you he’d wait a thousand. All the bullshit and failed relationships somehow has led him here. He knows he’s starting to sound like his therapist but doesn’t that mean the shit is actually doing what it’s supposed to? 

  The drive in scene comes on and you groan slightly as you tilt your head back. The screen illuminates him  just enough for you to see the smirk on his face. 

  “This is so cliche.” 

  “I know, it’s almost as if I planned it this way.” You squirm a little in his hold as he grips you tighter. You’ve inadvertently been grinding against him this entire movie and he’s been doing his best to be a gentleman. “I promise not to pull a fast one on you like our boy Danny.” He nods at the screen just as Sandy jumps out of the car and slams the door. 

  You can feel the hard press of his cock straining on his jeans against your back. You’ve been quite the tease this whole time hoping he’d take a hint but he’s letting you take the lead. “What if I wanted you to?” 

  You think for a moment that maybe he didn’t hear you and you can just avoid the embarrassment of having to repeat yourself. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your back as his grip on you tightens. The way the scruff of his beard hair barely brushes your cheek as he leans close to your ear. 

  “Hermosa?” He lets out a deep exhale against your skin. “I need you to show me…exactly what it is…that you want me to do.” 

  You tentatively grab his hand and he releases the hold he has on your hip to let you guide him. It starts just above your stomach. He sucks in a breath as you slide it further over the soft lace of your panties. 

  You stop there. Your eyes fixated on the screen but you aren’t watching the movie. He nuzzles the back of your neck as he whispers in your ear. “You want me to touch you here?” His fingers tap once and it sends a jolt of pleasure through you. 

  He doesn’t miss the way you say ‘please’ breathlessly as he watches your chest rise and fall. 

  His hand is hot, the heat seeps through the thin material making the wetness of your arousal known to both of you. 

  He swiftly moves your panties to the side, his calloused fingers making you shiver as he runs a single digit up and down your slit. 

  You bite back the moan trying to escape your throat. He shushes you gently as he adjusts to lower you both out of prying eyes. “I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me hermosa. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  You manage a nod as his fingers dip in before briefly pulling them back. He presses his thumb against your clit and your hips buck up as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the low rumble in his chest when you let out a squeak. His breathing is coming out in puffs and small grunts as his fingers slide in and out of you. 

  You can feel how hard he is as he grinds against the curve of your ass, each thrust and twist bringing a new wave of arousal. “Jesus Christ you’re soaking my hand baby.” 

  You don’t know how he does it but his expert hands are bringing you to the edge so fast you can’t keep up with your thoughts. 

  You nearly bite your tongue to keep in the whine as you pant his name. You turn into him as he presses his lips against yours, he’s sweet and slightly salty from the lingering taste of the buttery popcorn. 

  He can tell you’re close as you tense up and your back bows when he presses down hard on your clit and swirls. The pleasure is overwhelming and he growls as you bite down on his lip, your pussy clenching tight as you gush around his fingers.

  He swallows the moans of his name, ghosted across his lips as you come down from your high. “You did so good.” He kisses and sucks along your jawline as you literally come down from the stars. His mouth works down the column of your neck and you can feel the prickle of his beard and the sting of his teeth against your skin. 

  “Frankie that was…” you take a moment to catch your breath. You’re boneless as you dro

  You can hear him sucking his fingers and the sound makes you throb. “Fucking tastes like heaven.” 

  This man is gonna be the death of you. 

  He reaches up to cup your chin. You can barely make out his features with your vision still clouded. There's a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his lips. 

  He kisses you again as he pulls the blankets up a little higher and fluffs the pillows around you. 

  The juxtaposition has your head spinning as he turns your attention back to the screen. (Scene in the movie.) 

  “Is that what you had in mind?” He says, pulling you back into his chest. 

  You chuckle as you reach between your bodies. “Something like that.” He grabs your wrist gently to stop you. 

  “But.” 

  “No need.” He cuts you off with a kiss. 

  You shift in his hold to look at him as he looks down at you apprehensively. “Francisco, no you did not!” 

  “Oh yes, I did.” You snort as he squeezes your ass in his palm. “That’s a problem for future me. Now hush and watch the rest of the movie.” 

  You feel his heartbeat against you. The warmth of his breath against your neck. 

  He presses a kiss to your temple when you’re asleep just as the credits roll. 

  ****

  You wake up with the sound of the car door closing and a cool breeze on your face. It takes you a moment to register as you watch Frankie round the front of the truck. 

  “Hello sleepyhead.” He looks at you fondly as he helps you down from the seat. He looks up and down the street, always assessing his surroundings. 

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.” 

  He pulls you into him. “I’m not, you look really cute when you’re sleeping. Also when you’re snoring.” 

  You gasp as you try to wriggle free from his hold. “I do not snore.” 

  You can feel the rumble of his laughter as you rest your head on his chest. You really want to ask him to stay but you’re not sure where his head is at. 

  “Do-“

  “I-“ 

  You laugh as he clears his throat. “I had a nice time tonight.” He holds his hands out palms up as you place yours in his. “You don’t have to say anything, we can still take this slow.” 

  You certainly weren’t taking things slow at the drive ins but you don’t want to pressure him either. 

“Okay.” If he senses the disappointment in your tone he says nothing as he starts to lead you toward your apartment. 

  Frankie steals a quick glance at your legs peeking out under your dress as you climb the stairs. He’s still in a state of shock that things got as far as they did. He doesn’t want to spook you so he’ll go home happy with whatever you’re willing to give him. 

  “Frankie, you’re awfully quiet back there.” You tease as you throw a look to him over your shoulder. 

  “I’m just committing you to memory.” That soft smirk on his face and the adorable dimple in his cheek. 

  He crowds your space as you fumble with your keys but you don’t seem to mind as he presses himself into you. Inhaling your scent like you’re going to evaporate into thin air. 

  You turn in his arms, his lips insistent on yours as he murmurs goodbyes against them. You’re finding it incredibly hard to keep your composure around Francisco Morales. 

  “So, tomorrow Ben has another fight.” He states as he pulls back. 

  “Oh I know he invited me again. This time as a guest, no need for pictures.” 

  He plants another kiss on your cheek. “Good, I’ll pick you up at 7.” He opens your door, inspecting the entryway for surprise intruders and you can’t help but laugh at his authoritative nature. 

  “Good night Francisco.” You wave him off as he throws one more glance at you and descends your stairs. 

  ****

  True to his word Frankie was ready to pick you up sharply at 7 with his charming smile. This was technically your third date and you were determined to ask Frankie to stay over after Ben’s match. You both seemed to buzz with a nervous excitement all night. You relished in the way his hands never left you all night. 

  His hand on your knee on the drive over. His arm wrapped around you when you arrived at the gym, the protective way he pulls you into him when someone glances at you. You find Santiago immediately ringside and he pulls you both into a tight hug. You don’t miss the way he eyes Frankie’s hand in yours and winks at him earning him a small shove. 

  Amber sends you an excited wave across the ring with Will and you can’t wait to catch up with her after. You don’t want to get too ahead of yourself but it feels nice to be a part of such a tight knit group of friends. 

  “Are you nervous?” Frankie leans in close to your ear and you nod against the scruff of his beard. “I know it’s a lot but Ben is something else when he’s in the ring.” 

  “Plus it never lasts long enough for him to sustain any real damage.” Santiago chimes in from beside Frankie. 

  The whistles and cheers start as the men enter the ring. Benny bouncing up and down with his arms raised in the air, those signature blue eyes piercing into his opponent. The man is a little shorter than him but looks to have some weight on him. You can see Will and the guys exchange nervous glances to each other and you’re hoping you’re not about to witness Benny’s first loss. 

  The ref signals the start of the fight and the men dance around each other briefly before Ben takes a hard hit to the ribs, you wince noticing his pain but he quickly recovers as the opponent leans too far into his reach. Benny lands a swift blow to his right eye and it’s almost instantaneous the way it swells up and the man stumbles back. 

  You turn slightly in Frankie’s hold half way looking at the fight and halfway watching the muscles in his jaw work as they tense up in anticipation of each hit. His hands rub up and down your arms to comfort you as he keeps his eyes trained on the fight. Santiago notices you’re not quite watching so he starts offering his charming commentary to let you know Ben is winning, with your complete lack of knowledge in the sport it’s thoughtful of him. Plus you can tell he just loves the sound of his own voice. 

  Frankie spins you around to face the ring while Ben stands albeit exhausted but mostly unscathed next to the referee. The other man is knelt over in his corner and you can’t focus on what used to resemble a face for too long. Red and purple bruises are forming already and the coach looks more disgusted at his own fighter than he does at Ben. 

  “I think they’re gonna call it.” Santi leans in and nudges you while he watches on. 

  You glance back at Frankie with a bemused look on your face. “And that means….”

  Both men just laugh as the ref raises Ben’s arm in triumph and the crowd erupts in a roar of cheers. 

  “It’s a technical knockout. They usually call this when they’re concerned about the other fighter's safety.” Frankie yells over the noise of the crowd. 

  You just hum to yourself and send one more glance to the poor man. “That’s definitely for the best.” You reach down and rifle around in your bag before your hands land on your prized possession. 

  You promptly start taking photos of Ben as he runs around the ring, sweat and grime rolling off his body as he cheers victorious. Frankie eyes you suspiciously as Santiago looks on in delight. 

  “You’re supposed to be taking the night off.” 

  “I am.” Ben bounds over to you with his signature pose, wide grin on his face and you snap a photo. “This is for fun.” 

  “Flash can’t resist taking photos of my beautiful face.” He teases as he leans over the ropes. 

  “Flash?” 

  Frankie groans and scrubs his hands down his face. 

  “It’s your nickname sweetheart, everyone gets one when they’re part of the crew.” Ben tips his head to your camera. “You’re either flashing that thing at me or your gorgeous smile.” He winks at you as a hearty laugh echoes from Santiago. 

  Frankie points at him and arches a disapproving brow. “I’m gonna need you to quit flirting with my girlfriend.” 

  “Can’t hear you!” Ben jumps over the ropes and heads towards the lockers with Santiago in tow. 

  The nickname, Santiago being so nice to you, the admission that you’re part of the crew. Now Frankie is just casually calling you his girlfriend. You’re trying to contain your emotions but it’s mind blowing how fast this is all happening. 

  Amber and Will join you on the other side as the rest of the crowd starts to disperse. Will eyes Frankie and they walk off to the side as Amber pulls you into a heartfelt hug. She smells like Lemon and Jasmine and you can’t help but wonder if it’s her hair or just her natural scent. 

  “I hope this doesn’t come off weird but you smell really good.”

   She laughs and waves you off. “Not weird at all hon’. I’m glad you said something.” She leans in close, glancing over at Will and Frankie before she continues. “I’ve been running a little experiment the last few weeks, testing different perfumes for the wedding. So far this one has received the most compliments.”

  You remember Will mentioning they were engaged but you don’t really have many details about how soon they were planning on tying the knot. 

  “If I’m being honest.” She bites her lip and mumbles. “We were almost late because of this perfume.” 

  You try to school your face as she laughs at your obvious awkwardness and you can’t help but join in, delighted in how comfortable she already is with you. 

  “What are you ladies over here giggling about?” Of course Will chimes in while Frankie trails behind with a mischievous look on his face. 

  She shrugs as your eyes flick to hers and you both burst into a fit of laughter. You’ll just have to let them wonder as Frankie comes up behind you leaning down to your ear. “We’re going to celebrate, if you don’t want to come-“ 

  “Of course I do!” You exclaim and your excitement catches him off guard a little. 

  He plants a soft kiss on your cheek and you can hear the teasing from Ben as he reappears freshly changed from the locker rooms. 

  Amber bumps your hip and takes your hand in hers as you all make your way toward the exit. “I’m glad you’re coming. We have lots to talk about.”

  ****

  Frankie could tell you were nervous on the way to the bar, your fingers tapping gently against the worn leather seats in his truck. He took your hand in his and placed a kiss to your palm to let you know it would be alright and that he would be right by your side. He had to get used to being in this sort of environment early on in his sobriety. The guys had already sacrificed so much for him and he didn’t want them to give up their regular hang out just because he needed to get his shit together. Despite him knowing they would do anything for him, he adjusted fairly easily. The booze never did him any good and only served as a gateway for his other addictions. 

  If you were being honest you didn’t expect much of a place called Bar None going in. The neon sign flickered outside casting a warm, welcome glow. Amber takes your hand leading you away from the main bar to head towards their usual spot they’ve claimed as their own. You’re greeted by the comforting, familiar aroma of old wood and faint hints of spilled beer. Not all your memories of alcohol reminded you of your mom thankfully. The distinct smell of beer brought back fond memories of lazy sundays with your dad while you sat and watched football. 

  The room is a tapestry of rich, deep hues-cherry red bar stools and polished mahogany tables glimmer under the vintage hanging lanterns. As you both settle into the booth you can’t help but feel this odd sense of nostalgia. The space feels like a perfect sanctuary from the outside world. 

  “Better than you expected?” Her voice cuts through the clinking of glasses and you nod in approval. 

  The bar is bustling tonight with patrons in various states of disarray. Couples on the makeshift dance floor, others deep in boisterous conversations. And Frankie, looking effortlessly handsome as he approaches with a Diet Coke and a glass of ice balanced precariously in one hand and Amber’s drink in the other. He slides into the booth beside you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “I hope this is fine.” His voice a soft rumble that you can’t help but smile at as he cracks the can and pours it into the glass. 

  “Of course it is.” 

  “I’ll be over at the pool table with the guys. Call me if you need anything.” He gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze as he slides out of the booth. 

  You catch Amber’s eye as she raises an eyebrow suggestively, but you’re too engrossed in Frankie’s retreating form, his shirt pulled tight against his back and his jeans hug low on his hips. 

  “You know.” You start, taking a sip of your cold beverage. “I often wonder how that man is single.”

  She laughs as she takes a sip of her drink, her gaze flitting briefly to the guys all taking turns shoving Benny, as if he wasn’t just beat up enough. “I used to wonder the same thing about Will.” A brief pause before she focuses her attention on you. “It takes a special kind of person to handle all of their baggage. It was hard at first but, in the end it all worked out.” 

  She’s considering you at the moment, how much do you really know? To be fair everything is so new that you expect you know as much as you should. You haven’t really divulged too much into your private life yet, both of you wanting to keep things light and fun. You can tell by the way she’s surveying you that it’s a conscious effort to not overstep her boundaries when it comes to Frankie and his personal life. There’s no bit of jealousy or envy when it comes to the fact that she was simply around when their lives were harder and you may not have been offered this opportunity with Frankie if you’d met him any sooner than you did. 

“How do you think things are going?” She asks with an inquisitive tone. 

  “Honestly.” You sigh and she nods awaiting your reply. “Don’t make fun of me, but I think it’s going in the right direction. He’s so genuine, and even when we hang out like this, it feels…right.”

  She takes your hand in hers that you didn’t even realize you were tapping against the table. “ It felt like that when I met Will, so I’m really happy for you…for both of you.”

  Just then Will eyes her from across the bar and calls his shot, sending the guys into a fit of laughter when he misses by a mile. You turn to her and she’s already looking at you apprehensively when she clears her throat. “ Speaking of Will and I.” Her voice taking on an uncharacteristic nervous tone. “ You can say no if you want, I’ve been dragging my feet on all this wedding stuff. I know it’s a few months away.” Her hands are sweating and she’s taken on a shade of pale you don’t recognize. “ Frankie told me it would be fine, but I know you’re probably really busy with other things.” 

  “Amber, spit it out.” You said with a nervous laugh. 

  “Will you be the photographer for our wedding?” It’s all rushed out and she’s most certainly holding her breath as you let out an excited squeal that has most of this side of the bar sending concerned looks. 

  “Of course, of course.” You embrace her in an awkward hug squeezed into the booth. “ What made you think I would say no?”

  She lets out a deep sigh as she relaxes back into the booth sending Will a thumbs up. “ I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you and the Frankie situation.” She says honestly. 

  “Well, he called me his girlfriend earlier so I think it’s definitely more than a situation.” 

  Now it was her turn to shriek and you both send apologetic looks over to the pool table. 

  “You girls are having too much fun over there, I should join you.” Ben’s voice booms across the bar and he flashes that bright smile,  he starts to make his way over but is swiftly pulled back by Frankie and Will. 

  It’s nice to see Frankie laughing and enjoying time with his friends, you and Amber watch them fondly for a few moments while she provides silent commentary about what she thinks is going on. 

  “Santiago is likely making some bet that he knows he’ll win.” 

  You laugh as you both watch him animatedly pointing at Frankie with the pool stick. 

  “Ben’s probably making fun of his height at this point because that’s all he has.” 

  Ben pats Santi on the head eliciting a small scuffle between the two before Frankie inevitably breaks it up. 

  It’s so interesting how she has all the inner workings of the group down to a tee and even so she can still see the way Frankie can’t keep his eyes off you. It makes your face warm when he finds your eyes across the room, assessing you to make sure you’re still comfortable. 

  Frankie’s so focused on you he doesn’t notice the woman approaching the pool table. She’s about Frankie’s height, long brunette hair and an athletic build. The guys all give her tentative hugs before Frankie’s attention is turned away from you. You notice how he freezes, his shoulders tense and Amber’s narration has long stopped. 

  “Shit.” She curses under her breath and you look at her and notice her wide-eyed stare. Cautiously gauging the situation unfolding in front of her. 

  “Amber.” You place your hand on her arm to grab her attention. “Who’s that?” 

  ****

  “Marissa.” Frankie says through gritted teeth as the guys all slink away to the table. “Funny seeing you here.” 

  Will sends him one last look to make sure he’s good and Frankie waves him off. He just wants to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

  “What’s so funny about me being here? It’s a public place Fish.” The sarcasm drips from her tone as she steps closer to him. He can smell the liquor on her breath and it makes his stomach turn. She’s got a glossy stare that lets on she’s done more than drink tonight. “I used to be a part of this remember.” 

  “You’ve been drinking.” He avoids her mention of their past. 

  “Oh, Francisco’s on his high horse now that he’s sober.” She mocks him and he can feel the anger bubbling under the surface. The way she clutches her chest and the lipstick smeared across her teeth. This isn’t the woman he used to love, the woman that the guys could count on to have their six.

  “You’ve been doing a lot more than drinking, I can tell that much.” She scoffs and looks away, rolling one of the balls into a hole with her hand. She’s got dirt under her fingernails and she’s definitely lost some weight. “Listen….I know we’re not together anymore but I care about you. I think you should start going to meetings ag-“

  “Don’t you fucking do that Frankie.” Her finger in his face as she spits out her insults. “I wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for you and my so called friends.” 

  “Goddamit Marissa!” Frankie rips his cap off, blowing out through his nose. He feels like he could breathe fire. “I don’t do this anymore. I don’t have outbursts or feel like my skin is crawling. I don’t have panic attacks or spend my last dime on a bag of coke.” He punctuates each point with his finger on the pool table beside him. 

  She rolls her eyes and clicks her teeth. “Oh we know you’ve got more than a few dimes to spend now.” 

  “Don’t.” 

  She holds her hands up in surrender. Doing her best to look like a petulant child. That used to work on him but now it just makes his gut churn. “Frankie, honey. I’ll go to meetings if you go with me.” 

  Her hand settles on top of his and he’s frozen to the spot. He feels like a bucket of water has been dumped on his head. Her clammy hand on top of his and all he can do is stare. 

  There’s a firm pressure on his back, it starts slowly creeping up his spine until it settles on the back of his neck. It’s soft and grounding like he’s being consumed by the warmth of the sun. He lets out a deep breath as the nails scratch his scalp sending shivers through his body. He can smell the lavender and vanilla and the way it’s Pavlovian to react to the comforting scent that is you. 

  “Frankie.” 

  He looks a little like a wild animal when his eyes meet yours, they soften a bit at your touch and you could care less at how the woman is feeling. 

  “Are you okay?” 

  He does his best to convey that he’s fine now that you’re here. His lips find yours and he prys his hand away from the one that’s trying to claw its way back into his life. 

  You turn your attention to the woman, her lips in a tight line and her eyebrows raised as if she’s being inconvenienced by your presence. You assess her for a second, you want to make her squirm. Make her feel as uncomfortable as Frankie looks, and it seems she’s waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

  Amber gave you a quick rundown when she noticed her from across the bar. When the guys retreated and exchanged glances as the conversation started to get heated Benny offered to break it up. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you exited the booth and told him you’d handle it. A tinge of jealousy and disgust gave you the boost of confidence you needed to confront the situation. Something totally out of your norm but the way the guys looked at you with a sense of pride made you put one foot in front of the other to save your boyfriend from the demons in his past. 

  She clears her throat. “Hi I’m Marissa, Frankie’s-“

  “Ex.” You cut her off with a pleased smile as she looks a little wide eyed. 

  You can feel Frankie’s eyes on you but you keep your attention on her. 

  Her extended hand to shake yours hangs awkwardly between you. “So, he’s mentioned me then?” Her arms cross as she leans against the table and Frankie huffs a laugh next to you. 

  “No actually he hasn’t.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were prepared to say to her when you approached until you saw her hand on top of his and now it’s as if the words are tumbling out before you can stop them. 

  “I could just tell by the way you felt so comfortable scolding him in a public place.” You gesture to the bar and notice a few eyes on you and the boys watching you from afar. Amber has the most delighted look on her face. “Also by the way you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself I figured there was some history there.” 

  She tries and fails to school her stunned expression at your boldness, unwilling to back down and dare you say stake your claim. 

  “You know…I didn’t get your name.” She says and your reply is cut short when Frankie laces his fingers with yours. 

  “You won’t.” His voice drops dangerously low as he pulls you away from her. “Take care of yourself Marissa.” He means it and telling her it was nice to see her would have been a lie. One last glance over his shoulder and she’s already turned on her heel storming off to the bar. 

  The guys are quiet when you return, likely waiting for you to tell them what the hell happened, Amber sitting next to Will nervously tapping her fingers on the table. 

  For your sake Frankie doesn’t let you flounder when he tells them you guys are leaving. 

  They say their goodbyes and Amber tells you to call her to set up details about the wedding. Frankie looks down at you and relaxes a little. You’re practically beaming at the prospect and he hopes he didn’t completely ruin the night. 

  ****

  He’s eerily quiet as he drives to your apartment. Both hands on the wheel, no hand on your thigh. 

  He’s rattled, a deep scowl on his face as he stares at the lights ahead. You want nothing more than to brush your hand across it, tell him that everything is okay. He lets out a deep sigh every so often and for the first time you see this sad side of him, the side that he keeps locked away and you hope that he’d feel comfortable enough to let you in. 

  You want to ask him if he’s okay. 

  You want to tell him that you’d likely respond the same if you ran into your ex. Possibly run for the hills. 

  It feels weird in the silence of the car and you can only think to reach over and place your hand on his thigh. He tenses at first and glances down briefly, a small gesture that seems even greater to him when he looks over to see you just looking out the window. Knowing it would be too much to look you in the eyes. 

  He finally releases his white knuckle grip on the wheel to place his hand on top of yours, a quick squeeze to say ‘thank you’. 

  When your fingers lace with his he knows that everything is fine…he can finally take a full breath. 

  ****

  You can feel the apology on the tip of his tongue as he walks you to your doorstep. You can see it in the way he takes off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. A nervous tell early on, even when he looks at you with those deep brown eyes. 

  A deep intake of breath from you both before you place your fingers gently on his lips, his eyes wide in surprise but you’re still feeling bold from the encounter at the bar. 

  “Frankie, you have three options.” He cocks his head to the side, intrigued. 

  “If you’re not feeling up to talking, we can end the night here. I go inside alone. You go home alone.” 

  “I’m gonna say no to that option before I hear the rest.” He murmurs against your fingers still placed on his lips and you can’t help but laugh. A glimpse of your Frankie peeking through the cloud Marissa shrouded over the night. 

  “Option two…you can come inside and we can talk about what just happened. Only if you want.” You didn’t want to automatically assume that he did or did not want to talk about running into his ex and the conversation they had. 

  He shakes his head, taking a step toward you backing you up against your front door. “Behind door number three?” 

  “We can go inside…and do something else.” Your voice comes out a little shaky at his close proximity. 

  His dark eyes drinking you in as he leans down close to your ear. “You gonna tell me what something else means?” 

  “It means whatever you want.” You practically purr at him. If you were more attentive you’d see the switch. 

  His hands find your hips, turning you to face your door. “Are you sure you want me to have that much control baby?” 

  You nod as a slow building desire starts in your core and he doesn’t miss the way you fidget. Rocking slightly to relieve the ache between your thighs. 

  “I need words hermosa.” His tone demanding the more worked up he’s getting. 

  The pet names only serving the fan the flames from the previous night. A soft breathy ‘yes’ leaves your lips and before you can wonder how he knows which one he’s taking your keys and unlocking your door. His chest pressed against you walking you inside. 

  The door slams as Frankie shoves you against it, you can feel how hard he is pressing into your thigh. Your hands slide under his shirt and your mouth is on his neck. 

  He grabs your wrists in both hands as he tsks under his tongue. Slowly lowering them to your sides with a look on his face of your first and only warning. 

  He rids you of your shirt and his deft hands make quick work of the button on your jeans as he pulls them down along with your panties. Dropping to his knees along with them as he gently guides you out of them. 

  You’re shivering at the thought of him being so close, his face level with the slick dripping out of you as he picks up your thigh settling it over his shoulder. 

  “Fuck, you are soaking wet.” You gasp as his tongue slips through your folds. You moan as he circles your clit and the growl that reverberates through your core when you knock his hat to tug on his hair.  

  He’s practiced 

  His tongue dips inside you and the way you say his name he could commit to memory. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.” He rasps against your core as you feel that familiar cool tightening so fast. 

  “How long Frankie?” Your question comes out in short gasps as you drop your head against the door. 

  He can feel how close you are and his answer is on the tip of his tongue as you break. Your knees threateningly close to giving out until his large palm keeps you pressed upright. 

  His hand skates up your back, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin as he flicks the clasp on your bra. 

  His mouth trailing hot kisses up your stomach, his tongue circling your nipple to stiff peaks as his hand caresses the other. His lips are on you, his tongue swiping at your bottom lip and you can taste yourself on him. Soft breathy moans as he drowns in you. 

  You feel exposed as he takes a step back to really look at you. Your body of work of art on display for him as you try to catch your breath. 

  He’s painfully hard and fully clothed. 

  “Bedroom.” It’s not a question as you brush by him. 

  He’s on your heels as you walk down the short hall to your bedroom. The sound of his shirt being tossed to the ground and the clink of his belt buckle as he strips down. 

  He spins you with one hand and a smirk on his face as your legs hit the bed. It’s slow the way he draws down his boxers and mixture of pride and concern at the look on your face when you see the size of him. 

  “Fuck me.” A little breathless and louder than you intended. The heat creeps up his neck and spreads to his face when he stalks towards you on the bed. 

  “You still want this?” 

  “Yes please.” 

  His cock twitches at the way you say please. The way you’re so ready to do whatever he says. His mind races to other things he thinks you’ll let him do. 

  He litters kisses up your body, you feel so good against his palms as he glides them over you, like he can never get enough of just touching you. Every bit of skin is exposed to the soft light in your room. 

  A soft curse under his breath has you pausing. “I don’t have a condom.” 

  “I’m on birth control, and it’s been awhile for me.” The nerves starting to build below the surface. 

  “Me too.” He says honestly and your hand wraps around his neck to pull him into a kiss. 

  His hands are everywhere and you can’t think straight, all you can focus on is him. How much you need him. How you finally feel needed by someone and not just a toy to be used. 

  He wants to do this differently. He wants to take his time with you. Savor you and all the sweet noises you make. He wills his hands to slow as you pant against his neck. Reveling in the way he’s already got you so worked up. You’re so sensitive to his touch, the way your nipples perk up at just the slightest touch. The goosebumps on your skin when he trails his lips over your stomach and down your thighs. 

You smell like vanilla mixed with him and he wants to bury himself in it, drown in it until he has no more room in his lungs. 

You can tell he’s taking his time with you, in a slow almost torturous way. His hands grip your thigh as he raises up, his face level with yours and his eyes are asking for permission or forgiveness you can’t tell the difference in this moment. 

You can feel his cock throb where it’s pressed against your stomach, precum leaking from the tip as you reach down to stroke him and he lets out a curse as he lets himself feel you for a moment. Your soft hand wrapped around him as you pump him slowly, deliberately. 

“Fuck.” He stills your hand. “I can’t let you keep doing that querida.” 

You giggle and it makes his heart swell. Even now how desperate you are for each other and still there’s a playfulness to you. Something he’s always wanted, not just sex but -this.

Your hands fall back beside your head as your hips chase him impatiently. You’re beautiful like this, laid out for him. If he were a more patient man he’d snap a photo for him to keep. His mind could never forget the image of you anyway. 

“Frankie.” You whine. “I need you.” 

He leans down over you, his lips pressed to yours as he lines himself up. He can feel you tense briefly as he sinks into you on a soft exhale. “You have me.” 

His hips start to move slowly as he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck and chest. The stretch of him is a lot at first, you whimper as he waits for you to relax into it. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands fisted in his hair as he steadily picks up the pace. 

It’s the only sound he wants to hear for the rest of his life. His name leaving your lips in short gasps as he pounds into you. Trying to pour every feeling of those words that are too soon to say yet he wants to so badly. The way you arch your back, your skin on his as tears spring in your eyes. 

“Frankie please.” 

“Please what baby.” His voice gravelly with desire because he already knows what you need. 

His hands work their way between your bodies as he circles your clit in swift motions. You didn’t think it possible to come this many times in one night. No one has ever cared to meet your needs the way Frankie is. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” 

“Yes, Frankie so close.” You pant out 

“Good girl, come for me and then I’m gonna fill you up.” 

He nips at your jaw as you spread your hands down the length of his back, pulling him closer to you. 

His filthy words  and the steady drag of him send you over the edge. Your whole body tenses and shudders as you cry out coming undone at his skilled touch. You’re clenching around him so tight he doesn’t know how he can even move. A few short thrusts and he’s spilling into you, moaning your name. 

It’s blinding the way he feels as he collapses into you, he’s trying to fill his lungs with air as your hands work through his hair and your lips meet his temple. You don’t seem in any rush to stop this feeling, his grounding weight on your body as you both lay tangled in each other. 

“Thank you.” He says sincerely. He chokes on the words he really wants to say. 

“I should be thanking you Frankie.” You brush his damp hair away from his face. “That was amazing.” You bite your lip not wanting to say more and ruin the moment. 

His lips meet yours in a chaste kiss before he rolls off you. Thankful for the light still on in your room so you can really get a good look at him. Your eyes flutter closed as you hear the sound of water running and the ringing of the towel. 

Your heart cracks open a little more at the thought of never having someone take care of you like this. When he returns to wipe you down and place a soft kiss to your forehead before climbing back in. Pulling you close to him as you bury your face in his chest. 

It’s not long before he can hear your light snores, he reaches over to flick off the lamp as he murmurs ‘I love you.’ To the crown of your head. 

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[bunnypansy]

NSFW Alphabet: Rook Hunt!

Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!

A short (hm.) script covering the ABCs of Rook's sex life!

Featuring: Rook Hunt, and you!

Beware! This film contains: gender neutral reader, knife play, blood play, sounding, somnophilia, predator/prey dynamics, voyeurism, exhibitionism, nudes, sex tapes, mirror sex, marking, dacryphilia, praise, body worship, masochism, overstimulation, bondage, impact play, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, cucking (yeah), dick piercings, outdoor sex, public sex, stalking, face sitting, nipple play

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

You will NEVER catch a member of Pomefiore lackin when it comes to aftercare. No one is better at pillow talk than Rook Hunt. Too good. Make him stop talking. Seriously, this guy starts talking after you finish and doesn't stop until you fall asleep. Mostly about how well you did, how beautiful you are, certain things you did that he particularly liked. Rook doesn't like baths, so he'll give you a shower instead, but he's still going to pamper you. You won't have to lift a single finger- frankly he won't let you. After a soothing shower that he used as an excuse to worship your body, he'll place you in front of a vanity and tend to you like you're a delicate doll. A hand tucked beneath your knee as he lifts your leg, fingers smoothing over your thigh as he rubs a sweet-scented lotion into your skin, his mutterings becoming muffled through your sleepy haze.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For Rook to pick a single part of you he loves the most of an impossible task, this boy could go on and on and on about every part of your body down to your fingernails…however…. It's your eyes, definitely. He takes pleasure in seeing every micro expression you make, and your eyes just give it away. Definitely enjoys heavy eye contact during sex.

Rook’s favorite part of himself? Elementary, Watson, it’s his shoulders. Why, you ask? Well for one, his shoulders are very broad and well defined (catch me pushing my dorito-Rook agenda) from all the archery, and they’re still dotted with freckles from all his time in the sun, so he appreciates them aesthetically. However, much more important is the scratches you leave on them; red, raised, sometimes bleeding, nothing pleases him more than the physical evidence of your pleasure on his body.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

So… if you guys know anything about the semen and diet connection, you probably know that a high protein diet results in a very salty and sometimes uh… nasty flavor. We know Rook does a lot of exercise, and protein is a necessary component for building muscle so the first time you swallow for him it's a pretty gross experience. However, with a sustained relationship, Rook will happily change his diet for you so his cum has a bit more of a neutral taste. In terms of texture, he remains well hydrated so it's a bit syrupy and has a nice slightly off-white color. Rook likes cumming both in and on you, so every time you fuck, you are sure to end up with cum dripping from your hole and stuck to your face by the end of the night.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He desperately wants to let a couple other men have their way with you and photograph the whole thing. Rook has always enjoyed watching you masturbate, nearly as much as he enjoys bringing you pleasure, this is simply a natural progression of those desires. Ideally, there'd be If he could truly have his way, he'd film everything, then make you watch it back while he fucks you; the whole time commenting on little things you do that drive him crazy and attempting to recreate what happened in the video. Honestly, Rook is so up front about what he wants that is hardly a secret

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

His experience is middling. I believe Rook has probably had 3-4 relationships, but none of them lasted longer than a year (he was a bit too obsessive and his partners were put off). He's fairly experienced, but also knows that it's important to learn the intricacies of every person he's with, and not everything he knows will work instantly. Rook will approach every session like a learning experience, exploring new places and techniques to make sure he can find all the little spots that drive you crazy- and once he does, God knows he's going to abuse the fuck outta them. Also his first time was in the woods, thanks

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Before I start, I'm drawing a firm line; Rook Hunt does not like doggy style- or anything where he can't see your face! He firmly believes that any position where he can't see your beauty is a waste of his time. So of course he likes missionary and the mating press, but his real favorites require some extra supplies. Namely a mirror. If Rook is feeling rough, he'll shove you right up against the mirror and take you from behind; but usually he prefers to have you settled on his lap, one arm hooked beneath your leg to lift it up to your shoulder as he fucks you. He likes having the free hand to tease you with (:

Now, I know everybody likes big dom Rook but he's a switch okay guys. The seeing your face rule sticks for even when he bottoms, he needs to see you constantly. Honestly missionary has to take number one for him, but he's also real fond of being tied to the bed, it gives him no choice but to admire you as you work.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Usually if there's laughter in the bedroom, it's just Rook teasing you a bit, but that doesn't mean he's no fun! Having a partner you can laugh with is valuable to Rook, so if something happens while you're fucking it out, he won't be afraid to giggle a little, maybe poke a bit of fun at you, then rather easily slip right back into sexy times.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's part of Pomefiore, did you think this man was anything but well-shaved? Frankly, his pubic hair is beautiful, somehow princely?? It's fine and light, but very soft and incredibly well trimmed- not to mention always clean, and never smells like ball sweat. He can't manage to grow a happy trail, just a tiny little path that starts beneath the waistband of his pants and ends in a small tuft at the base of his dick. Otherwise, he's completely shaved down there, smooth balls and not even ass hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Painfully so. Rook will be intimate with whomever he chooses to bed, fuck buddies, one night stand or long term lover, it’s just in his nature. He has a knack for making your feel like the most gorgeous, lovable person on the planet while you two have sex- it’s something in the way he holds you, unabashedly keeping his eyes on your face the entire time he presses kisses against your neck between proclamations of your beauty, checking in and focusing wholly on how you feel. Your pleasure is his, afterall. Never, not even once, will you get the impression that Rook isn’t madly in love with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

A lot. Once a day, maybe more, if we're all honest with ourselves. Rook is a man who loves indulging his senses- He's got a high libido and he uses his own orgasm as an energy boost, which is enough to make a horny man, but he's also incredibly easy to rile up. He fully indulges the pleasure of masturbation, his favorite places to do so being your bed and outside. Rook really draws out the process; starting with gloves on, letting the leather get slick from his own precum as he slowly strokes up and down the length, squeezing around the tip just for a bit of extra pressure. Eventually, he'll pull the glove off and touch himself a bit more fervently, by now he's getting noisier, letting slip soft calls of your name, whimpering as he rocks his hips into his hand. Rook only whacks it while thinking about or looking at pictures of you, after all, you're the most beautiful thing in the world, what else would he touch himself to?

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):

Voyeurism: I think we could all see this coming. The stalker, a voyeur?! Shocking. He prefers when you don't know he's watching you (he'll receive consent beforehand don't worry boo-boo), something about the thrill of getting caught makes blood rush to his dick. Please let him take photos though

Photography/filming: Master of the nude.Sending you nudes, receiving nudes, whatever it is, Rook likes it. Rook’s nudes are downright artful. The lighting and angles are always perfect, even at night, and he never fails to look beautiful. Rook is the king of the post work-out gym bathroom photo; standing before the mirror with the hem of his shirt between his teeth. He likes to record when he's fucking you too, just so he can watch it throughout his day as a sort of pick me up. He's also fond of some good photos after sex when you're an absolute mess, expect for him to gush over them in your presence

Exhibitionism: this goes well with the voyeurism kink, one of his greatest fantasies would be watching you have sex with another person, then get caught jerking off to you two

Mirror sex: Tenfold if you're self-conscious, he makes your anxiety his pet project. To Rook Hunt, there is nothing sexier than sitting you in lap, legs spread, forced to watch yourself while he fucks you to stupidity. Not to mention, he gets the best view of your body.

Marking: Take a shot every time you read beautiful- but really, he thinks you look beautiful covered in little rose and violet hickies. A painting of his conception, an empty canvas covered in his marks. If you cover them with makeup he'll sneakily wipe it away every time you see each other that day.

Dacryphilia: there's nothing that makes his pride swell more than bringing you to pleasured tears. Of course, Rook isn't the type to enjoy your pain, he'll never want to see you cry because you're scared or hurt, but if it's because you're overwhelmed? Then he's happy to make you cry even harder.

Praise: Again, a guy who cannot stop talking, specifically about you. It's even worse if you're self-conscious; he'll make you sit in front of a mirror, on his lap and guide you through every part of your body and why he loves it, and you. Oh and of course Rook does the standard encouragement. Murmuring sweet things as he slowly pushes into you; "good job, you're taking me so well" or "deep breaths, darling, I'm almost all the way in". And when you're close to cumming; "ah- you're close, aren't you? Go on, cum for me, you can do it"

Body worship: I feel like this one is obvious. He loves everything about you, he finds every inch positively beautiful. If Rook wasn't so hopelessly horny for you, he'd do nothing but kiss every part of your body up and down. But alas. Horny.

Predator/Prey: must I even elaborate? Man is literally a hunter. However, Rook prefers a long con; stalking you throughout the day, appearing here and there, then finally striking when you're all alone. What he really likes is watching you get nervous and fidgety before you finally break and run away from him, so Rook can chase after you. In the end it'll probably end up with you two wrestling and he's absolutely okay with however it turns out- win or lose

Overstimulation: this is on pleasure dom Rook!!! All Rook really wants to do is make you feel good as much as possible, even if that leaves you twitching and crying because you've cum 6 times in a row.

Masochism: PAINSLUT ROOK!!! Rook likes everything you give him, and if what you give him happens to be pain? So be it, lay it on, baby. Nails scratching down his back, biting, hitting- just anything

Bondage: something about being physically tied down makes him feel like a hunted animal, like you two have been fighting back and this is the result of his failure. Rook, the perfect hunter, lines to feel like he's been defeated once in a while, it keeps things fresh!

Impact play: This is for bottom Rook for sure, but please spank him, slap him, whip him. You could slap Rook across the face and he'd get hard. I'm not even kidding. He's particularly fond of riding crops, especially on the inside of his thighs or across his back

Knife play: cut him. Do it. Do it. Do it. Being roughed up makes Rook feel satisfied, bruising, bleeding. And yeah he'd absolutely be okay with branding- if you're in a long term relationship. Cut your name into his thigh, he wants it

Blood play: Rook finds the look of blood against skin striking and gorgeous, he's not inclined to hurt you unless you ask, you can draw blood from him however you like. Hitting him til he gets a bloody nose? Hot. Biting him til he bleeds? Hot. Cutting him up? Hot.

Somnophilia: Rook is nasty okay. His stalker tendencies and love of vulnerability have made a monster, and if you'd let him, Rook would love to sneak in your room and fuck you while you're fast sleep

Guided/mutual masturbation: tell me that Rook wouldn't make you sit on his lap while you jerk off, you can't. Sat in front of a mirror, guiding you through every move so he can watch you write and get his lap all wet. Ahhh he's so cute

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

If you're okay fucking somewhere, so is Rook. If you let him, Rook would fuck you in front of anyone and everyone, this is NOT hyperbole. While the preference isn't strong, I think Rook probably prefers to have sex in public places that anyone could walk into; living room, kitchen, the counter of a public bathroom- of course the woods is a classic. The risk of being caught gives him a thrill that the bedroom just can't do!

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It's the little things with Rook; how your neck looks when you turn your head, the little way you jump when he sneaks up behind you, how it feels when he can overpower you. Generally, Rook likes seeing you vulnerable, that's part of the reason he enjoys stalking so much.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Genuinely this was so hard to think of, but Rook won't treat you like trash. I know some of us like mean, cruel men, but Rook won't do it, he refuses to mar your beauty or tell lies about his feelings towards you. One of Rook's defining traits is unwavering, brutal honesty, so chances are Rook will never degrade you- he just cares too much. Doesn't mean you can't degrade him though-

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Giving, for sure. He likes seeing the cute faces you make while sucking him off, sure, but he thinks the noises you make while he's tongue fucking you are much better. If Rook is going to give you, head you're going to ride his face though- it's the best position! Sitting on Rook's face means A) he can see all your facial expressions and B) you can quite easily make him do whatever you want, which sounds lovely to him

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Honestly Rook will move at whatever pace you like but let's forget about that for a minute. Rook naturally wants to start out slow and sensual, dragging his cock along your walls, making sure to hit all your sensitive spots with each thrust in and out. As he goes along, Rook gets more excited and his thrusts pick up speed, turning a bit more rough and shallow until he's finally cumming. When Rook cums, he goes still while he's fully inside you, shuddering and moaning as he fills you up. He's got a habit for biting when he cums, like an animal sinking his teeth in to make sure you stay there while he finishes.

Now, I'll elaborate on quick rounds with Rook because they're a bit different. If you need to be fast, or if Rook is so horny he's gone feral, the word "slow" exits his dictionary. His thrusts start and stay hard, fast, and deep, it really gets across the desperation he feels good you, how cute 🫶

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Absolutely! Rook has no problems with a little pick-me-up sex, something to just satisfy your needs and move on. Of course, he prefers to draw out sex, but also takes a good amount of pleasure in tearing as many orgasms from you as fast as he can before sending you on your way, weak-kneed and sweating. I like to think Rook keeps a vibrator on him just got this sort of occasion

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Are you kidding me rn. Rook is the risk man, the only ones fighting him for this position are the tweels, and it's real close. Rook could approach you with something new to try every single week, and if you're the one to ask for experimenting, it's highly unlikely Rook will never say no. Maybe to like… vomit? Any way you slice it, Rook if freaky deaky and pulling you along with it

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

We all know Rook is athletic, baby!! I give it six rounds before Rook gets a bit too overstimulated and needs to give his dick a break before it turns purple, but he's happy to go on pleasuring you while he gets a little rest- but chances are you're exhausted by then too. How long each round lasts really depends on what you're doing, but he can last around 25-35 minutes before- not including any foreplay -so it'll really be up to you to keep up

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

This country boy is mostly an acoustics only partner. It's not that he's against toys, there's just nothing he's particularly interested in using on you. I believe Rook owns a good ol wand vibrator that he uses on you during guided/mutual masturbation, just because he appreciates how squirmy and whiny you get when he presses the toy against your sensitive spots.

But if you're using toys on him oh well… that is a different story. I think he mostly prefers good ol 'weiner up his ass, but Rook is real fond of a good vibrating cock ring and a few bullet vibes- taped to his nipples or the base of his cock. He also likes nipple clamps, ball gags, blind folds, riding crops, and basic whips.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You'll be shocked but Rook mostly likes to play things fair, he'll tease a little but Rook is straightforward. If Rook wants to fuck you, he'll just come out and ask, no need for any roundabout games! When it comes to actually having sex, Rook wants to make you feel good, he's not going to delay making you cum your brains out!

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Rook Hunt is for sure the noisiest man you’ve ever met. Not that he’s a screamer, moreso, he will not stop talking. We all know he can go on for hours about things he’s passionate about, but he’ll hardly let you get a word in edgewise, he’s too busy going on and on babbling about how gorgeous you are, how good you feel, praising how well you’re doing, murmuring sweet nothings- proud member and president of the “can’t shut the fuck up” club. Of course, you’ll get some good, loud moans from him too (usually interrupting his endless chatter). Rook is more of a moan guy than a grunt guy, it comes out high and is usually accompanied with a shudder and pleased sigh.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Sounding. This is WILD but Rook likes wild, and he would absolutely be 1000% be down for sounding, in fact he's the one who brought it up. He's already done research, he's already bought toys- come babe, keep up, get the rod in his dickhole already!! (Also I think he has piercing nipples, they're just basic golden studs, but they look cute on him)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Rook is rocking long but kinda skinny. He's around 5.5 inches in flaccid, getting up to an even 7 when he's fully hard- man is a major league grower. As I said, a bit on the skinny side and no prominent veins, but his tip is a lovely cute pink and he gets so twitchy and leaky when he's hard. I'm not sure he has a dick piercing, just because he's a bit worried about the healing interrupting his sex life or exercise, but Rook has thought about getting a piercing or two- guiche or prince Albert I think

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Turning on Rook is like turning on a light switch; you only need one good slap and you could do it with your eyes closed. You could breathe too close to him and Rook would get hard. Rook would fuck you every single day, multiple times a day if you let him. He's not afraid to ask you- or send videos of himself masturbating to the thought of you! Mwah enjoy the teasing babe

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It really depends on whether or not he tops, honestly. In terms of topping? Rook could never sleep after sex, it makes him energized! For this reason, Rook actually prefers not to have sex after dark, morning or midday sex works out better for him. After a good round or two, sometimes Rook will go straight into a workout.

Bottom Rook, though? He still feels refreshed but he's more likely to just settle down for a little while and chill out. He likes to lay back with you and blab on about whatever comes to mind- Rook low-key the king of pillow talk, he could give a 5 page essay debrief on your sex life.

That's all for today's showing guys, thank you for watching!

Hooooo boy! This one takes the cake for the longest alphabet yet at 3.8k (for reference, Trey's was 2.1k) this alphabet gave me some trouble, I didn't expect Rook to give me this much of a challenge! I think I got in my own head and tried to make this one really professional for a lil, then I went back a read some of my last alphabets and eased up. But there was a lot of writing, re-writing and re-formatting- sorry @birtha I did not mean to take this long, but it's finally done and I hope you like it! Also for that anon who sent in the Barbatos req, I see you, I hear you, I love you, it's in the works. Mwah thanks for reading you guys are baller

[modelbus]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a wilbur soot x female reader? (romantic)

i was thinking some headcannons of things Wil would do as a bf/cute moments fans have clipped from streams of him like, showing you off, complimenting or bragging about you.

no pressure to do this at all! <3

I did a bit of both headcannons and clipped moments! Also yes the little photo thing is of wilbur :)

Pairing: CC!Wilbur x Fem!Reader

When With Wilbur

When (not if, lets be honest here) you wear his jumpers, he fucking melts. It's like: Woah, that's his girlfriend. wearing his clothes. Holy shit. He loves you.

You walk into his office holding two cups of coffee, a sheepish look on your face. "You won't believe what just happened to me."

"I won't?" Wilbur asks, navigating his Minecraft character to a safe spot before looking up at you. "Woah." He murmurs, mic barely picking it up.

The last he had seen you, twenty minutes ago, you had left his stream claiming you were going to get coffee. Now here you were, with two coffees, but wearing his jumper. His girlfriend. Wearing his jumper. On stream.

"It started downpouring! So I had to stop by the flat and grab something so I wouldn't drown!"

"Mhm." He hums, but it's obvious he isn't hearing a word you're saying. He's far too distracted by how you look wearing his clothes, how you're wearing his clothes in front of thousands of viewers.

"But at least I got coffee." You finish, plopping down in the chair he had found for you.

“Thank you.” He accepts the offered cup from you, eyes never leaving you. “Uh, so where was I?”

Wilbur really wants to show his love for you at all times and 80% of that is him calling you pet names

“Hey, love, do you know where my yellow pick went?”

“The Fender one?”

Wilbur nods, strumming idly while he reads chat.

“Didn’t you break it last night when I bet you twenty you couldn’t play World’s Smallest Violin?”

He snaps his fingers, turning around in his chair to face you. “You still owe me money for that.”

“Technically you broke your pick and couldn’t do it, so…”

“No, you still owe me that money.”

“Oh, wow, look at the time I have to get going! Bye bye!” Waving with a smile, you slowly start to back up.

As you vanish out the door, he turns back to his stream to whisper, “she’s just like Tommy. Holding her presence ransom. Last time I ever let the two of them in a room together.”

Wilbur absolutely loves to show you off at any given chance

Whenever Tommy invites the both of you to his vlogs (which he does a lot, he is the biggest shipper of you two) Wilbur always takes the chance to be super affectionate.

“Wil, Wil! Take aesthetic photos of me!” Tommy yells, awkwardly posing in the tulip field.

“He’s definitely succeeding at being a VSCO girl.” You whisper to Wilbur.

Tommy's whole thing for this vlog was being a VSCO girl for a day. For some reason that meant he had to drag you and Wilbur along, but you weren't complaining. Filming his vlogs was a lot of fun.

Wilbur laughs, bending over to pick one of the tulips. "Here. It's not as pretty as you, but it'll have to do."

You immediately blush, ducking your head a little as you take it. "Thank you."

"Hear that vlog nation? My girlfriend is prettier than all of these tulips combined. Fuck you guys." Wilbur tells the camera, holding it up to film you two instead of filming Tommy like asked.

As a joke you mimic having a crown on your head, playing it up. Wilbur smiles, turning and pulling you in for a kiss.

"Oi! Lovebirds! Stop making out and start filming me!" Tommy yells.

"Fuck you!" Wilbur yells back before lowering his voice. "I swear to God I'm going to kill him one day."

"He's your brother, you can't do that." You give him another kiss before turning and calling out to Tommy, "Your angles are off!"

"Fuck!"

He always responds to your texts/calls, even if he's in the middle of something.

"Hang on Tommy, I have to respond to this message."

"We are literally streaming, what the fuck."

Wilbur loves to cuddle you and will take any excuse to. You're a little cold? Oh, time to cuddle. There's a new movie out? Clearly you two have to cuddle and watch it together.

He also loves to write you little notes and leave them in places for you to find because he loves to see you smile. They're stuff like "you're so pretty" or just "I love you."

There is not a single stream where you aren't mentioned in some way. Even if it's just an offhand thing. Wilbur remembers every little detail about you so he can tie you into anything.

"Oh, I should get these flowers." Wilbur remarks, moving to break some flowers in Minecraft.

"What for?" Tommy asks, following him. "Oh, ew. Never mind. Love. I'll have you know the only one I love is the grind, and the grind doesn't like flowers."

"Sorry for being a good boyfriend," Wilbur says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I'll give these to her when we get back. Were we headed this way?"

Sometimes he'll tell chat when you two go out on a date but sometimes he doesn't because he wants it to be just his to think about and smile about. It doesn't really matter because chat can tell by how smiley he is that he’s thinking of you.

Wilbur has definitely written so many songs about you. Only one or two ever get recorded, but he has a journal just filled with little poetic lines about you.

You are at every single gig he ever does and every single time he performs a song inspired by you, he'll shout you out. He uses it as an excuse to brag about you a little too.

"This song is about- well. You all know who this song is about! Everyone cheer for my spectacular and beautiful girlfriend who is somewhere in this crowd!"

[bijoumikhawal]

I've gotten tired of making a post like this every few months so let's just fire a few of these off, and feel free to add on! Tropes you should at minimum reconsider using when you write or talk about Julian Bashir:

Mentions of "harem" pants, "Arabian nights" aesthetics, etc. These are improper terminology (that feeds into racist ideas) for real things, and when using that terminology those things are often being misrepresented. For my part, if you would actually like to know about the material culture of the Middle East and North Africa, I'm a "hobby" researcher of that very topic and will readily answer asks about it- with the caveat that I mostly know about Egypt, and I'm not the best person to ask about Sudanese specific culture even though I know a little, and I don't know much about Indian or Pakistani fashion (mentioning because these seem to be the most common cultures brought up around Julian).

comparisons to monkeys, apes, the word "simian". This should be obvious but it happens a fair amount, and it's almost comedic given a common trope is to comment on how much Garak hates being compared to a lizard.

This is separate but the way some people use mammalian tips from writing xenofic and trying to understand how an alien would think and categorize things into something that feels very exoticifying. It's not a "full stop, do not do this" but it is something I've noticed

Jokes about how undesirable Julian is. He's the exception that proves the rule about fandom's obsession with white twinks and a rare example of a brown nerd who isn't pinned into the "Couldn't sleep with a woman if they were the last two people on earth" box. I'm not saying we can't make fun of how he flirts just- Stay clear of Raj BBT territory

Conversely: my most hated garashir trope is when the author makes Julian's libido a problem by making him inconsiderate, cruel, and outright manipulative in service of his dick, and the writing often makes it clear they're connecting this to his masculinity. Julian does do some really stupid shit when it comes to his relationships, but this particular way of trying to incorporate this into writing him is just OOC, and you need to not confuse writing Julian's canonical robust and healthy sex life with negative stereotypes about lecherous Black and brown men. There's fics that pull off Julian being a bit of a dick or manipulative well- such as Salt the Earth or the ageswap series (at least where I last left off on it).

making his eyes green or blue. I have the same eye color as Siddig, more or less, and while it's technically hazel (or olive, as some people call it) most people think it's brown and most lighting makes it look brown. If you look at screencaps of Julian, you'll notice it also most of the time, looks brown. This sounds minor if you haven't experienced it, but it has a real and very negative impact on people's self image.

Older one but to be clear: if you're writing Julian as explicitly Muslim, find and replacing "god" with "allah" in English text is not how Muslims (or Arabic speakers in general) use the word? It is really funny to read, but please...

Over focusing on Julian as British. There's a long, LONG conversation that could be had about the dynamics of assimilation and how European racism (ime) very specifically views it as progressive to strip people of their culture and thinks they're causing the problem if they don't go along with it that would need its own post and which I've had with white fans before and feel exhausted thinking about- but to put it simply, there is no such thing as "just British", even for white Englishmen.

Yes the inverse is also wrong but I really haven't read a fic newer than 2014 guilty of that lmao and I think some of the more recent complaints about it are overblown, given I've read only a few fics recently published that delve into Julian as a Brown/African Person and I enjoyed them

I would personally appreciate it if fic writers were a little more balanced about cultural discussions honestly. If you write a lot about Cardassian culture, it'd be nice if Julian’s background was discussed. I won't say that kind of research is easy (again, I do this as a "hobby" that's very important to me, it's actually really annoying and difficult sometimes), but it is possible. I recently talked about how not doing this kind of mentally slots Julian into a "white guy" role.

This is not a matter of me policing your "artistic expression". I have no control over what you do. I would just like for fandom, a hobby I do for fun, to be a place where people stop being racist in a way that directly impacts me.

[jacevelaryonswife]

► How would they be on a date? — Modern Headcanons 「AU」

pairing: Aegon Targaryen | Aemond Targaryen | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader (the famous big three).

a/n: I usually don't detail reader's appearance to try to cover a larger number of people. English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

warnings: mentions of sex.

Modern headcanons masterlist!

— Aegon ↺

The first thing to settle: Most of the time Aegon invites girls on a date he just wants casual sex. However, there are certain exceptions.

Asking girls out was never a problem. He's attractive, cool and knows how to flirt like nobody else.

And what did he usually follow as his mantra on dates? Nice and expensive place, look good visually and ALWAYS pay the bill.

Aegon would pick you up at home with his impressive car and cocky posture. He's a bitch and knows how to take advantage of it. His hand would land on your thigh eventually, and if you reacted well, he'd squeeze your skin with a smirk on his lips and keep his hand there until you reached your destination.

He doesn't hide it as well as he thinks he does about getting in your pants, which can be a problem for some girls who want something serious — he usually ignores this type.

But you're a smart girl who knows his intentions. Going on a date with Aegon means stepping up the waxing and buying extra condoms. The guy is really a thing in bed.

He flirts most of the date, but he's also funny and enjoys (or pretends to) listen to you talk. When it comes to his life, we can say that he is quite wealthy and carefree.

Aegon doesn't think he's the type of guy who needs to objectively and persistently flirt to get you, but that's exactly who he is in the end (sometimes almost inconvenient).

At the end of the date he takes you to his incredibly modern and cool apartment, and once you're through the door he's going to be a fucking tease.

Aegon likes to tease, play, and guide you in bed. He finger your clit to drive you crazy, pinch your breasts and devour your neck like a thirsty man. He likes to have fun with your body and feel the squeeze when you come. It's sexy and he loves to see your face curl with pleasure.

There's a high chance he'll ask you to fuck your ass.

Usually he doesn't see a problem if a girl stays by a night — he even likes to sleep cuddling. And you find out he's a really heavy sleeper.

— Jace ↺

Our boy Jace is the dream date. It took a while for him to ask you out for fear of taking things too quickly, but when he did, oh, wait for something really good.

Like a true gentleman, he stopped by your house to pick you up and took care to choose a romantic and cool place who you don’t know, or somewhere of your preference/suggestion.

He is concerned and cute in trying to make you comfortable. Jace can handle girls, but he's not as confident (or bold) as Aegon.

He's charming, funny, and sets out to entertain you and make you laugh all night long — and he really does.

It's one of the best dates you'll ever have, and at the end of the night neither of you wants to leave. Therefore, there is a high possibility that you will go somewhere nice and beautiful in the middle of the night.

A beach, a busy street, something aesthetic that will stay in your memory.

He doesn't want to be another guy who walks into your life to fuck you up and walk away. Definitely not.

Jace doesn't feel like he needs to sleep with you at the end of the date, as if all goes well he'll probably call you again, but if you want to he is game. He hates the thought of having sex with you in his car — after all, you deserve a better seat — but if you tease him it really can happen and he gets super horny watching you ride him fast and hard.

In a bed he would be gentle and would probably be on top all warm, red and anxious above you. He couldn't be cuter when he smiles affectionately before sliding into you, and you'll swear he's so sexy when he closes his eyes and focuses on the moment.

It's a magical night and he loves it when you hug him after sex as he hugs you back and plants kisses and caresses on your face, hair and shoulder. The next day he smiles at you openly and kisses your forehead, and he's sure there will be more dates with you.

— Aemond ↺

A date with Aemond is a social experiment.

If he asked you out it's because he's really interested in you (focus on the word really, it’s important).

He's mysterious and reserved and at first you think he's not your type, but then boom, you were totally into him.

Aemond isn't as comfortable (or incovinient) with girls as Aegon or Jace, so he does his best to hide his nervousness to the point where you don't notice. He is polite and speaks directly to you, and throughout the date you are the only focus of the night.

Everything he does is meticulous and well planned, whether it's the choice of place or time or clothes. He has no problem letting you choose the place, in fact it's even interesting to see how you are in your habitat.

The conversation with him rarely dies and he always shows his intelligence in different subjects, mainly in flirting. Aemond is not a cheap conqueror, if he flirts with you it will be in an exquisite way that makes you open a satisfied smile. He also doesn't like to flirt in public, preferring only you to know what's going on.

He doesn't mind kissing or having sex with you after dates, he respects your time and if you reciprocate the interest, further dates will ensue.

However, if he dares to touch your face or body for a long time it means that later in the night he will be delighting between your legs.

He is an riddle to be solved, for even though he is restrained and methodical, Aemond manages to be fire and blood. He kisses you firmly when you're in his room, maintaining a dominant posture the entire time. You feel like you could melt when you start fuck, he's so determinedly good and attentive, his body so defined. He's fucking sculptural.

He makes you feel free to leave if you want, but he can't hide the satisfied look in his eyes when you lay on his chest after the amazing night you've had.

[kidstemplatte]

terzo/ fem! reader on period

pairing: terzo/ female reader

summary: terzo comforts reader who is on their period.

-you had been in a relationship with terzo for a while and found yourself more than occasionally sleeping in his bed.

-you loved it, you loved cuddling with him and falling asleep to some silly reality tv show, the soft sound of his snoring not a disturbance but something quite soothing.

-and beyond that, his quarters were decorated INCREDIBLY, you’ve always been impacted by your surrounding aesthetics, and it was such a lovely setting.

-in his large bed, against the plush frame and soft pillows, lying underneath the silky sheets was your favorite place to be.

^ let’s rewind to the silky sheets💀

-one night, as you were peacefully sleeping in terzo’s bed, you woke up in the middle of the night with an achey feeling in the bottom of your stomach and a pounding headache.

-as you shifted around to get out of bed and go to the bathroom, you noticed a damp feeling ~down there~ and started to panic.

-you opened your phone and held the flashlight to the bed and were faced with a horrific sight:

𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓.

on terzo’s sheets that probably cost more than your net worth.

-immediately you panicked, not knowing what to do

-it’s not like i can take off the sheets and wash them while he’s sleeping. do i wake him up? but he sounds so peaceful when he’s snoring. what do i do?

-eventually the stress and hormones of it all and your headache and stomachache caused you to panic.

-you tap terzo on the shoulder and he sleepily rolls over to face you with a soft grunt.

“mmm?”

-but when he sees the distressed look on your face and the tears in your eyes he energy immediately spikes up.

-“what’s wrong? amore mio, what happened?” he says, sitting up.

-he comforts you through your crying and is reassuring you the whole time.

-“i’m so sorry, it’s so gross, i started my period and bled onto the sheets” you said, sniffling.

-“oh, is that all?” he replies.

-“what?” you respond hazily.

-“oh, amore mio, i was so worried something had happened!” he says with a relieved laugh.

-“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you, i’m sorry, i’m so embarrassed.”

-“you have nothing to be embarrassed of, these things happen. it is okay. no big deal.”

-“and i have a headache and my stomach hurts and i’m sorry i’ll go wash them and-“

-“ay, nononononono! you will not lift a finger.” he silenced you, putting a finger over your mouth. “you stay right here.”

-before you could protest, he had taken all the sheets off the bed and left the room.

-you nodded and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower, but quickly realized how careless you had been, because you didn’t have any products or clothes with you when you were done.

-when he came back, you awkwardly explained with the door shut that you didn’t have any pads or tampons with you.

-to your delight, he knocked on the door, opened it a teeny bit, and held up a little bag of period products you kept in your purse for emergencies.

-but then you realized you also didn’t have a change of clothes.

-when you opened your mouth and began to explain this, he said,

“sí, i came prepared. i brought you some clothes for your room.”

-you were slightly mortified he went through your drawers, praying he didn’t see some particular things he would probably ask you about later, but nearly cried at how sweet he was.

-he tossed you a t shirt and pj shorts.

-“these are cute.” he said as he tossed a pair of underwear to you that you prayed to satan he would never see, that had kittens on them.

-you giggled and changed your clothes.

-“what should i do with my old clothes?” you asked.

-“oh, just put them in my laundry bin.”

-you wanted to cry, you were at a point in your relationship when your laundry was now his as well. it was a small yet significant and sickeningly heartwarming moment.

-after you got out of the bathroom, terzo also had some water, advil, pamprin, and a cup of tea/ hot chocolate and waiting for you (whichever u prefer hehe)

-“thank you.” you said, starting to cry again, giving him a tight hug.

-“of course, it is the least i could do for la mia ragazza preferita.” (my favorite girl) he said, kissing your forehead.

-then you notice he brought a blanket and and a stuffed animal for your room and cry even more.💀

-after you take some medicine, you two snuggle under the covers (which somehow have new clean sheets on them?)

-he turns on the TV above the crackling fireplace and picks whatever you want to watch. (i’m assuming something lighthearted because you have cried quite a bit already haha)

-he pulls you close and plays with your hair, even gently massaging your tummy/back/shoulders/ whatever’s bothering you❤️

-while this is going on he’ll occasionally whisper in your ear how much he loves you or how pretty you are until you fall asleep.

-when you wake up the next morning and he’s not in bed you panic a little bit.

-but when you walk into the kitchen you see him making breakfast for you🥺

-“good morning, my beautiful ragazza.”he says and walks over to give you a kiss.

-terzo treats you like a queen when you’re not feeling well, lays down with you when you need it or leaves you alone depending on what you need.

-brings you chocolate and whatever food you’re craving.

-if you snap at him he understands you’re stressed and will do his best to back down and not press your buttons.

-makes you laugh if you’re feeling emotional or anxious.

-terzo is the best lover ever and will not rest until you are happy.❤️

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

okay this is incredibly self indulgent as i just started my period (sorry if that’s tmi 😖)but you know periods can be really uncomfortable and it can be awkward to talk about them even when they’re weighing so heavily on you so if you’re finding yourself in a situation when it’s that time of the month and you’re desperate for some sense of comfort, i hope this helps 🫶

if you have sent me a request, it is coming!! ❤️

thank you for reading!!!!

<3, alice

[dduane]

Today's Marital Challenge (Differentiated Type*)

...@petermorwood comes to bed late, just as I'm waking up.

DD: ...Did I miss something? Did you get any sleep last night?

PM: No. Having a shower now.

PM: (has shower) (returns) (gets into bed)

DD: ...So what was that about?

PM: Heraldry.

DD: ???

PM: Fimbriation. You didn't fimbriate the jewel on that sword. You can't just do that. It's tincture on tincture. It's illegal.

DD: (thinking: I haven't even had my tea yet, I cannot have a conversation about this right now. And also it was 1 AM when I stopped work and I said there were things that still needed to be handled about that pic. Eyes. Claws. The issue of whether to declare how "armed" the Lion is, meaning not just his claws but the issue of the demigod's weenie**: to tincture or not? A design decision, and the jury's still out, and anyway some of us actually need to sleep sometimes...!) (...and nonetheless:)

DD: Middle Kingdoms heraldry is more in the European mode than the British. You know that violations like that are a commonplace.

PM: Then why did you blazon it in British [heraldic grammar]? And you named a color twice. That's not on. It should have been "of the first" or whatever.

DD: (did I sign up for this? I don't recall signing up for this. Must have been in the small print..)

PM: I wrote a long post. It'll go up tomorrow. Not today, it's Caturday.

DD: (And you're going to correct my grammar, I bet. In a very caring sort of way. Á la Captain Amelia.)

PM: (turns on TV, starts watching a YouTube trailer about Irish Spitfire pilots: starts falling asleep)

DD: Time to get up and write up the Goddess's recipe for deviled eggs. Have a nice sleep. (But first...)

"FIMBRIATION: the placement of small stripes of contrasting colour around common charges or ordinaries, usually in order for them to stand out from the background, but often simply due to the designer's subjective aesthetic preferences, or for a more technical reason (in heraldry only) to avoid what would otherwise be a violation of the rule of tincture.[1][2]

...

FREELORN OF ARLEN: ...You re-rendered me for this??

DD: (glancing to see where in the MK Instagram timeline the character is at the moment) (wanders off snickering) When you're married you'll understand.

*...Or maybe just "differenced." :)

** (jots down title: "The Adventure of the Demigod's Weenie." [Please note, in a related development, that the heraldically-based "War of the Bear's Pizzle" turns out not to have actually happened. ...Dammit.])

[marvelmaniac2000]

Summary:  Loki finally catches you time slipping after you guys break up. Little does he know the different lives you guys could have shared.

Characters: Loki x (Reader (Y/N) Mobius, Sylvie

Subject: Fingering, foreplay, french kissing, angst reader, dominant Loki, makeup sex,  Loki season 2 (non spoiler smut) , 18+ ONLY,

Intercourse, doggy style, slow burn emotional sex, 

Words:1.4k 

 (I wish I could watch Loki again for the first time. I love the aesthetic. It’s probably the only MCU show I’m able to keep up with at the moment. Everything else is not on my agenda lately to be written about.) Wrote this late at night tired af 🤡

   You TemPad back into the TVA with burning red eyes trying to hold back the tears. There was nothing in your mind that mattered but some sheer solitude away from loki. He completely messed up your life. He was just a regular variant that needed to be controlled. What made him seem like he was any different from the rest? Maybe you were the weaker link in the TVA that he was able to manipulate the most. 

   You stood in the middle of the TVA main monitor before striding down the hall toward a vacant interrogation room. You slumped down in the chair and exhaled. Loki was under Mobius' responsibility and couldn’t run off without knowing his where abouts at all times. This was your chance to disconnect from whatever was happening. Mobius warned you many times before to stay away from him but you couldn’t help wondering what made this man think he was different from the rest of the variants at the TVA. Every flirtatious moment, slight touch and seductive gazed sent major shivers down your spine when he was even near you. Loki was helping you guys track down the unknown variant but little did you know that the same viarant apparently named “Sylvie” was something of his own new desire. 

    You heard a slight presence from somewhere in the dark room. “I told you, didn't I? Mobius lingered from behind. “Please leave me alone in my own thoughts for a second before you rub it in my face” “Nahhh I think this is all too good of a moment to pass up” Mobius slid his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, just think about it for a sec…the guy fell for a female version of himself.. That isn’t someone worth gloating about... trust me” Mobius stood across from the table. “Well you know you can't help who you fall in love with” you whispered. “That doesn’t exist here. You had a job to do, and you preferred to be selfish and cause more timelines to branch out. I hope you’re happy” 

  “You and I both know that wasn’t the plan” you retorted. 

 “None of this was (Y/N)!.. “ He scoffed. Now you are a part of a case that I do not want my own friend involved in. It just became personal and more difficult, so I hope I won’t have to prune you.” 

   “Don’t worry. you won’t” you flipped your TemPad open and vanished.  

.............................

  “I care about you Sylvie and quite honestly I did at one point wanted to be with you but I don’t really like you in that way .” Loki reached out for Sylvie sitting down. “Look it doesn’t not matter what I think, the TVA is in complete shambles and that’s really the only thing that makes me happy at the moment.” 

  Loki looked up at Sylvie’s face and noticed a glimpse of hurt. “I think you’re a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. “Why? You got what you wanted but do you realize it won’t include you if there isn't a timeline to begin with?”

 Sylvie slid down off of the truck. “ I meant every last word. Now excuse me, I’ll like to enjoy my peace.” With a brush against Loki’s shoulder, Sylvie walked back into the restaurant. 

   Loki pinched his nose. His patience was running thin with everyone. For the love of god, he loved both you and Sylvie but only he couldn’t go back to the godly way of juggling several women at once. All he could think about was you right now and being wrapped up in your sheer company. Maybe he should just let Sylvie be alone for a while, he was sure she would be okay for the “time” being. First, he needed to find you and make sure you were not going to disappear from the end of time. 

    The gentle breeze swept your face as you inhaled the beautiful air from outside. You watched from across the street an amazing white picket fence house with a red truck parked right outside the garage. You moved your hands in your pocket and watched your variant self with a yoga mat and gigantic hand bag in the other. Also resting between your ear and shoulder was your phone talking extremely loud to whatever person there was. Just look at you, you did a sly smile to yourself and felt the sheer joy of seeing not only a different version of yourself but the most regular you but with Loki in it too. There he went trying to walk to the mailbox looking at maybe letters? Bills? Who knows. But it made you happy. Your variant self drove off in a hurry and waved Loki bye in the process. You wondered what it would be like to meet this version of him. Would he still look at you the same? Touch you? Or would he come off as a weird delusional variant? It wouldn’t hurt to try to see. Before you could take another step closer a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into another dimension. 

   You lunged toward an unknown bedroom. You turned to meet Loki’s gaze staring right at you. 

“Why?’ That’s all you could spit out. “I’m pretty sure I’m the last person you need to talk to save the universe? Am I not correct?”  

  “Listen, I can explain” Loki gently closed the gap between you too. “I don’t need to hear your lies” you didn’t even want to look at his face.

“(Y/N) please I love you” he took your hands into his and gave you those big pleading eyes.

“What about Sylvie? Isn’t she more important?” You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Just a friend my dearest” he brushed your hot cheek with his thumb. Oh how much you missed his touch. 

 “I’ll prove it to you” he slowly pressed his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth and let him take the lead. “I’ve always loved you and only you” he kissed the crook of your neck and sucked on the area that made you squirm. Your hands roamed between his loose strands of raven black hair. You gasped, making your grip harder around his shoulders. You backed away and slipped off your TVA jacket and pulled your shirt off.

“May I?” Loki gestured toward your pants and gently undid your buttons. He locked his lips onto yours wanting access with his tongue. You hummed letting him dance around your mouth. His hands pulled your pants down leaving you with nothing but bare lace panties. Loki let fingers slip into your bare wetness. You bite your lip watching him dance his fingers around your clit in slow strokes.

“Oh how much I’ve wanted to pleasure you” Loki soft fingers builded up the milky white wetness of your flower while you cry out in moans into his ear.

“Loki” you whispered, grinding your hips to his hand. His pace quickened while he devoured your neck with his wet tongue. Your fingers scratched his jacket wanting more of him inside.

“Please” you breathed. Loki pulled his fingers away and sucked his fingers clean of your juices.

“Lay down” he gently gestured you toward the bed.

“I want you on your hands and knees dear” You do as you were told and kneel with your bare ass in the air.  You hear the sound of a belt buckle before Loki adjusted your hips toward his entrance. You gently hitched your breath feeling him tease his tip inside your wet dripping folds.

“Are you ready my love?” he bent over nibbling at your ear. Moaning while you feel him fill you up.

‘Y-yes” you breathed. Loki smirked, ready to make you his. 

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[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #46] Forgetting the Friendship

warnings: progress!! seven mv inspo!! fluffy goodness <33 a treat! (1) reference to 'ur so mean ting ting ball :('

notes: i love these chapters so much waaa, it makes me excited to write for bd again <3 also these chapters are copied straight from ao3 and the space after italicised words before full stops drives me insaaane but I am too lazy to fix it lol soz

wc: 9K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Jeongguk sitting across from you at a dining table is not a foreign concept.

Nor is his smile, and the solace it brings; or his inquisitive eyes, and how they're able to make even the most mundane of activities enthralling.

In fact, sitting with Jeongguk in a dark, smokey barbecue place just off the central restaurant district downtown feels entirely comfortable.

Yet it's perhaps the most troubling thing of all: dating Jeongguk is easy .

Easy, like the first sip of an expensive vodka. Easy, like the laughter that comes whenever you're with him. Easy, like you knew it would be. Easy, like it always is.

The restaurant is familiar to you both - somewhere you've frequented for countless late-night dinners. It's a standard joint, nothing technical nor fancy about it. Booth seats, coal pits in the middle of the table, extractor fan above head.

The pipe work is exposed, but it's more for practicality than aesthetics, even if it does lend itself perfectly to the industrial vibe the place has going on. Lights are dim, neons on the walls, overheads shining down on the barbecues only. It's the perfect place to go incognito for a little. Perfect place to test the waters of what a date could be like with Jeongguk. Perfect, because you can hide, if you want.

Hide what you are. Hide how you feel. Hide from your friends, onlookers, judgement. Hide, as if you need to. As if anyone gives a shit. As if you aren't just a couple of besties just sharing some food.

No one understands.

No one realises they're witnessing a cosmic union that'll change the world as we know it. Celestial in the way your energies merge, a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon is happening with every awkward glance. Every shy smile. Every bite of his lip, and flip of his lip ring. Every sparkle of your glitter beneath the hazy lights.

God, Jeongguk thinks, hands clammy. So fuckin' pretty.

You know exactly why he's chosen this place. 'Best meat in the entire city,' you've whined a few times, mouth full of your favourite cut. Moksal, the neck cut, is your go-to. Jeongguk always prefers samgyeopsal, and actually thinks there's a place across the road that is superior - but you like moksal, and you like the moksal here.

So here is where you are.

When you realise this—as he's asking the waiter for a cut of samgyeopsal and two cuts of moksal—your heart hurts. If it could pout, it would.

You don't realise that you're kind of pouting too, until Jeongguk asks, "Is that alright? Did you want something else? I can change the order."

"No," you insist, a smile settling on your lips, just shy of a giggle.

Attentive as always, you find his drive to keep you happy sweet. Charming, in fact. You know that if he had it his way, he'd have ordered three cuts of samgyeopsal straight off the bat, then maybe ordered moksal for round two.

But he wants this to be easy.

It is easy.

It's not like you had expected a date with Jeongguk to be a particular hardship. Nothing like that at all.

You've known him for long enough now, and experienced enough of life with him, to know what something like this could be like. Hell, you've done this exact thing with him on an easy two dozen occasions. More, maybe.

The ease, the comfortability, the absence of complication; It's all so easy .

You've never known love to be easy.

Never known it without conflict. You don't even know if this is love—but you know it has the potential to be.

It's too soon for such heavy words. The dates barely even started. A bottle of soju and a bottle of beer are brought to your table, and Jeongguk cracks the cap of the beer while you unscrew the soju. Work in tandem. Get the drinks flowing, 'cause neither of you are truly confident enough for this.

Have both tripped over your words already. Both took a little too long to think of responses, in an attempt to make them perfect. Make this perfect. Be perfect.

This is your first fatal error, for perfection has never been what either of you have liked about one another.

It's everything else—flaws, and all— that you like.

He'd proven that as soon as he had shown up at your door that evening.

"I like your hair," he had told you earlier, a little bashful in your apartment hallway, hands stuffed into his trouser pockets.

Half up, it isn't particularly special today.

Danbi had spritzed it with a little glitter hairspray while you'd been doing your makeup, and twisted some plaits back, leaving your grown-out fringe to frame your face. It is a little fancier than your normal half-up go-to, but it's not exactly ground-breaking.

'Smart casual' had been the attire set by Jeongguk after you'd asked for a dress code, which is honestly the worst thing he could have possibly said.

You're good at doing casual. Great at doing cocktail. Mildly okay at doing smart. The combination of smart and casual? Yeah, not so great. Too many things to factor in.

"Like, do I go business-sexy?" you'd considered out loud, spending far too much time whining when you should have been getting ready. "Yanno? Like a hot secretary? Is that what he means?"

"I think he just means a little dressy," Danbi had talked some sense into you. Really didn't understand all the fuss. "Not full Disco Ball, but enough to still turn heads."

Glancing over to the sparkly dress hanging on the back of your door—the same one that Jeongguk had sort of gifted to you over the weekend, but also not spoken to you about at all—you decide that maybe that will be a little too much.

Thankfully, Jeongguk did send you a mirror selfie twenty minutes before he was set to leave.

Black slacks, a blazer, and a graphic white tee beneath it. Smart casual. Captioned it with, 'will you be able to resist me, or should I get changed?'

You have a last minute panic and change to dress accordingly; tight black mini skirt, large white tee hanging loosely off your frame. A tour shirt from one of your favourite bands, it's been through the wash enough times to look almost vintage, even if it's just from a few years ago. Tucking it in a little at the front, you allow for the material to billow and hide the body Jeongguk seems to love so much. Perhaps it's better. Less tempting.

With a smile, you reply, 'no & no.'

Layering on some jewellery, you do a few last minute checks, and tug on your Converse. Totally not because you think he might wear his. Not at all. Decide against a jacket. You know Jeongguk's got one.

If you're gonna date, then you're gonna do the datey things - and that includes stealing his jacket before the end of the night.

Definitely has nothing to do with the fact you know Jiyeong did the same thing. You're definitely not trying to overwrite the memories of her. Not at all. That would be childish and pathetic and silly and exactly what you're doing.

You've had long enough of reducing yourself and making yourself invisible for the sake of men.

Jeongguk has never made you do that. Not once.

You're confident that Jeongguk won't ever make you reduce yourself. In fact, he's the one who frowns whenever you're without glitter. If anything, he seems to want to amplify you. It's a strange feeling. One you're not quite used to, yet.

But it's one that you had welcomed as he turned up at your door. Had dimples digging into his cheeks the second he caught your gaze, desperately fighting a smile.

A million thoughts raced through his head: how gorgeous you always look in the flickering light of your apartment hallway; how happy he is to be at your door, and how it felt like he'd be sick the entire subway ride there; how he'd planned on stopping for flowers on the way, but had been too eager to see you instead.

None of these thoughts escaped his lips.

Instead, the greeting had been awkward . Bashful. Both of you unsure of this new etiquette, even though being together feels like the most natural thing in the world.

He made note of your lack of jacket. Didn't insist you get one. Knew straight off the bat that he'd be draping his blazer over your shoulders by the end of the night. Wrapping you up as his own. Sticking a label on you that distinctly marks you as his.

He also noticed your shoes. Smiled. Looked down at his own pair - that he definitely didn't wear because he thought you might... not at all...

Part of you felt a little cheated as you headed down towards the subway ( where was the hand holding he'd spoken about? ) but you were also thankful he wasn't going in all guns blazing. Were nervous. Unsteady.

Now that you think about it, perhaps a hand would have been useful to hold.

But in a place that is familiar to you both, the nerves settle.

"So, tell me about yourself," you flirt, as if this really is a first date by the standards of normal people. "Pets? Siblings? Hobbies?"

Jeongguk smiles, easing into how natural this all feels. Feels a little odd, too. You know all this. Still, he nods. Cosplays as a stranger to you 'cause maybe he is a bit too acquainted for some guy who isn't even your boyfriend.

"One brother, no pets. Want a dog, but I'm waiting until I have more free time, yanno?"

"More free time?" you enquire, as if you don't know his schedule like the back of your own damn hand.

You're probably more well-versed in Jeongguk's work rota than your own by this point. Know which days to end up in Dionysus with no purpose other than to have his eyes on you the entire night. Know that he gyms at ass o'clock in the morning because of his work schedule. Know that he'll cancel that particular schedule if it gives him the excuse to stay in bed with you. Bonus point if he gets his cardio done in other ways.

You still might not be a gym girlie, but your core strength has never been better. You're getting pretty good at yoga, too. The Cobra is a particular favourite. Cow, too. And fish pose. In fact, now you think about it, you're getting real good at yoga. Danbi would be proud.

"More free time," he nods, before pausing to take the utensils from the waiter, insisting he's fine to grill his own meat. It's no different to usual—Jeongguk often happily cooks his own meat—but something about it this time around gets you smiling. A little flustered. You do love it when a man takes charge (mainly so you can fight with him), but it's entirely different now.

He just seems... capable. Dependable.

"Work enough hours at a part-time job for it to be full-time," he begins to explain. "But I'm also in the process of setting up my own business. Restaurant business."

Absolutely none of this is new to you, and yet you find yourself asking questions. So many questions. Rehash old conversations, and go off on new ones. Have Jeongguk smiling and enthusing, talking about his dreams like they're coming to life in little vapours dancing around his head. You can picture it all; his successes, his meticulously planned interior, the wind-down after a busy night, sitting with him around his favourite table and eating for yourselves.

He rambles on about staff uniforms, and whether or not he wants shirts or just aprons when he stops himself. Smiles, Says, "Sorry, I'm like the worst date. Just talking about myself non-stop."

Date . Jeongguk is your date. Fuck . You could squeal. You won't—but you could .

Shaking your head, you disagree. "I like hearing about your plans. It's fun. Your eyes get so sparkly whenever you talk about your dreams."

"Shut up," he cringes, a little embarrassed by himself, and also aware that you're totally wrong.

His eyes don't sparkle 'cause he's talking about his dreams.

His eyes sparkle cause he's looking at you as he speaks about them.

Nonethewiser, you raise your shot glass. It's filled to the brim with soju, hastily poured by him, and grin, "to your future."

He raises his glass, and knocks it against yours, tiny droplets of alcohol trickling over the lip of the glass and onto your fingers, so minimal it's almost unnoticeable. "To the future."

The , not his . A collective. A future he hopes you'll share together.

"Anyways," he says as he swallows down the soju and chases it with a little beer. "Tell me about you. Gimmie your life story, Disco Ball."

The smile on his face as he calls you that is sweet. Kind. His dark eyes twinkle in the dimly lit restaurant, a little smoke from the coals beneath the barbecue obscuring him for a brief moment.

Your ability to talk with Jeongguk about anything and everything for hours upon end is nothing new.

As you laugh and joke your way through dinner, there really is nothing remarkably hard about spending time with him. You never thought there would be.

Part of it worries you. Concerns you that 'nothing remarkably hard' could lead to you being simply 'nothing remarkable' altogether.

See, comfortable has been used upwards of a thousand times to describe your relationship. Now is no exception to that.

You talk with him like an old friend, not a new lover - and while this is fine, and safe, and necessary for a successful foundation, you fear that such security will prevent you from building something truly great.

Hours are lost in conversation.

The tables around you come and go. Fill up with new punters, then filter out. At one point, a server spends a little too long looking at your table. Jeongguk notices. Says, "I think we gotta order more or fuck off."

It's been three hours.

And so Jeongguk orders budae-jjigae to keep you going. Knows you won't eat all that much of it, but also knows he can demolish the stew off if needs be. It's cheaper than more meat, and easier to pretend like you're taking your time to eat it. Gives you more time.

Soju bottles empty out rapidly. New bottles are brought over every now and again, the table never running entirely dry. More meat is eventually ordered, because Jeongguk is Jeongguk, and the mere scent of the table next to you grilling up meat gets him hungry again.

Again, he grills for you for the most part, but when you take the tongs from him to turn the meat and give him a little break, he almost crumbles .

His gaze is centred on you. Flicks down your arm, to your wrist. Your hands. Watches as they work. Says nothing, just slowly wets his lips as you continue talking, then presses them together. His lip ring does the thing . Posture reclines a little into his chair.

"What?" you ask as you notice the way he's not paying attention to what you're saying at all. "You good?"

He just shrugs. Absent-mindedly toys with his lip ring a little. Is contemplative as he says, "Why are we putting ourselves through this, B?"

And while you could act dumb, and pretend like you don't know what he means, the relief that washes over is too damn obvious. Your shoulders fucking ease. He knows what you look like at ease, and now that you've sunk into it, he can't believe he didn't realise you were so tense before.

"Oh," he laughs, now, realising that you've been deliberating the exact same thing that's been running through his head. "Am I that much of a terrible date?"

"Date?" you tease. "This is a date?"

"Oh, fuck off," he laughs. "Course it's a date. I wore a blazer."

"You looked hot," you tell him, 'cause you've had a few too many shots to be making good decisions. Tucked into the base of the seating booth to protect it from the smoke, Jeongguk's in just a t-shirt now.

Arms out. Tattoos on display. Muscles tensing just right.

It's a miracle you've been able to form coherent sentences at all this evening.

Truthfully, you've not been focusing on them.

Can't help but let your mind jump back into its memories. Fractures of heated moments in his shower keep coming to mind. The grip you'd have on his arms as you came undone. Memories so potent they almost make you whine.

So yeah, you've been avoiding looking at his arms.

"Should I put it back on?" He raises a brow.

"No," you hum. Bit down on your lip. Sparkle underneath the lights of the restaurant. The taking of Jeongguk's breath is accidental. The way you shrug, and playfully raise your eyebrows as you recline into your chair, is not. "You're hot now, too."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me, Byeol."

"Am I not?"

"Are you?"

He's so pedantic you could scream. Instead, you giggle. Shrug as you lean forward to slide your chopsticks beneath one of the fermented perilla leaves. Say, "Give me a hand?"

Of all the things Jeongguk wants to give you right now, a hand is definitely one of them. Maybe not in the way you're requesting, but fuck . He's insatiable whenever you're like this. Impatient .

Yet, he does as he's asked. Splits the leaves for you. Wonders how out of pocket a marriage proposal would be, even if he is just joking.

Instead, he asks, "If we go somewhere else after this, can it count as date two?"

"No."

"Byeol," he whines.

"No," you laugh, knowing exactly why he's asking. "You can't get me into bed that easily. Can't speed up the process. You gotta earn it."

He has earned it. You know it, he knows it. Everyone who looks your way knows it. Your want for him is written all over your face, cosmic eyes shooting up like stars every time you glance his way.

"The process is dumb," he pouts.

"The process is necessary," you insist, though you really are doubting it now.

"The process has already been done," he assures you, though you're not sure his maths is adding up. This is still just date one of five.

Thing is, Jeongguk sees eating together as more of a daily routine thing. It's not special enough - but it's what he said he'd do in the midst of a fuck that felt like a whole lot more, so he had to see it through. Had to make sure your expectations were met. Didn't want you to be disappointed if he didn't follow through.

"We've basically been ' together ' for fuckin' ages, now," he continues, lips a hell of a lot looser now that he's got soju swarming through his veins. Cares not to hide how he views things between you. "The rules are redundant 'cause we already know each other like the back of our hands."

"So?" You toy, enjoying this slightly desperate side to Jeongguk. You normally only get to see it in bed. Nice to witness it fully clothed, even if it does make you wanna disregard the rules you're so desperately trying to enforce. "Think about how good it will be when you finally get me how you want me."

"It'll just be embarrassing," he assures you, thankful that the chatter around you drowns out the conversation you're having. "I'll finish, in like, 2 seconds."

"No different to usual, then."

"Fuck you."

"No," you smirk. "That's the whole issue, remember? We're not allowed to."

"Swear you get off on my pain," he grumbles, topping up both of your glasses with the dregs of the beer left in the bottle. Pours you both water, too. Definitely hasn't had enough, so he doubts you have, either. "Is this what our relationship is gonna look like, huh? You torturing me for the fun of it?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," you tease him with a playful smile. "I'm not your girlfriend."

He just shrugs again. "Yet."

Your lips purse. Smile hides. Eyes sparkle.

Yet , you think.

As if he can read your mind, he just nods slowly. Yet .

No time is given to dwell on such a small word, for Jeongguk gets already on his feet and heads over to pay. Doesn't even give you the option of offering to go halves, because it is a date, and he does want to tick all the boxes. Make you happy.

And he does. You are.

The restaurant you're in is a few floors up from the street. A skincare shop is on the bottom floor and a kitchen on the next one up. The staircase is themed, adjacent to the restaurant. Has a vibe about it that just begs to be photographed - which is obviously an intentional, marketing ploy, given by the sheer amount of mirrors available on the descent. All branded with a small tag in the corner, you know if you searched it on insta, heaps of selfies would pop up.

Grabbing his blazer from the booth, Jeongguk ushers you towards the staircase, Drapes his blazer over your shoulders, even if you aren't complaining about the cold yet. He knows you will.

Even though he's not been wearing it, there's a warmth about his blazer. His aftershave is stuck in the fibres. Divine. Fresh. Dreamy.

"Wait," you hum as you get to the biggest mirror of the staircase. It's full length. Dimly lit, with neons in the background to give it a vibe that you know girls on the gram will just eat up.

Jeongguk pulls you to stand in front of him ever so slightly. Takes your phone from your hand and slides the screen across to auto-unlock the camera.

Pictures taken together are a rarity, normally always with your other friends. Never just you two. Not since the photobooth in Busan.

He thinks about it often, mainly 'cause every time he sits at his computer desk, he can see them poking out from behind another poster. He keeps them up, a little obscured so that Jimin never notices them, but so he can always feel their presence.

"Should document it," he narrates the choices he's making. "Evidence of our little dating experiment."

It's not what he wants to say. Not what he's thinking. If he were being honest, he'd say 'evidence to show our grandchildren.'

"You're such a romantic," you tease with a roll of your eyes, but naturally find yourself leaning into a pose.

Though Jeongguk once told Yoongi he wouldn't want his relationships plastered all over instagram, he's positioning himself in the perfect soft launch pose. Hangs his arm over your shoulder, tattoos on full display now that his blazer is draped over your shoulders. Covers his face with the phone, and lets you take centre stage.

He thinks he'd quite like to end up on your feed. Not just your story.

The refracted light of a disco ball in the corner of the staircase glitters down on you both, dappling you in pockets of luminance.

"Well, what do you want me to say?" He replies with a smile, tone matching yours as your fingers reach up to link with his. He takes another photo. Switches the camera to record. Looks down towards you. Says, "That I wanna preserve this? That I want to keep this moment forever? That I want something to show future generations?"

None-the-wiser of your rolling camera, you shrug. Smile, looking at you both in the mirror. Look up to him.

"Are you this forward with all your first dates?"

"Only the ones I know I have a future with."

"Oh?" You question, turning your body to face his. The hand that had been slung over your shoulder comes to rub tenderly up and down your back. "You're pretty confident."

He nods, smile soft as his dark eyes just drink you in. There's a giddy feeling in his stomach, and it's not just the alcohol. "Should I not be?"

The familiarity of Jeongguk is only exacerbated as his nose nudges up against yours.

It's tender, and tepid, and he knows better than to be so affectionate with another person in such a public space, but he doesn't care. Felt distant from you when he was across the table; like the supply to his oxygen was being stifled, but now he can breathe again.

You don't resist as he steals a kiss. It's small. Tepid. A punctuation mark for a question that really shouldn't make you feel as head over heels as it does.

"I never said that," you smile, his nose resting against yours as he locks your phone. Will let you find that video some other time. Wishes he was still recording when you say, "I think it's something worth preserving. Think I'll wanna look back on it too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," you mumble into his lips, sinking into another forbidden kiss. "For when we're old and grey and I'm reminiscing over my former lovers."

You're deliberately downplaying how you feel; how you know that there'll never be another lover after him.

If Jeongguk chooses not to see this through, then that's it.

At the ripe old age of twenty-seven, you've determined that no man nor woman could ever compare to him.

His particular cluster of cells is just the right one for you; the right combination of stardust.

If you ever find yourself trapped between sheets with someone else, they'd be nothing more than a misplaced life experience. Not one for the history books. Names wouldn't be remembered, the feeling long-forgotten by the time you're reminiscing.

But not Jeongguk. Never Jeongguk.

It's terrifying to look at another human and know the course of your life is forever changed because of them.

But it's comforting—so, so comforting—when replies, "Former? B, if I'm not covered in your fuckin' glitter on my death bed then I'll... I don't know," he laughs. "Haunt you? I don't fuckin' know. Just take fuckin' former outta your mouth when you talk about us."

"You're so lucky we're in public right now," you sigh a little dreamily.

"Why's that?"

"You're, like, one right sentence away from me getting to my knees."

"Don't say that," Jeongguk groans with a smile. Shakes his head. His nose strokes against yours like it so often does, even closer than before. In fact, he's so close that you can feel his lips as he husks, "Lets get outta here, B."

Shaking your head, you smile. "Ask nicely."

Jeongguk pulls away, and tugs on your hand to have him following you. "You gotta stop being so..."

"So?"

"So you ," he laughs, as you head down the stairs. "Swear you live to wind me up."

"I do," you assure him. "Is it working?"

Leading you down the stairs and onto the bustling city street, Jeongguk likes how much of a menace you insist on being.

Drunk revellers line the pavements, so his grip is tight. He's keeping you close. Smiling with every innocuous statement said by you, then glaring at every fucker who looks your way. You never notice. Are too busy knocking into his chest with every step, glitter no doubt embedding itself in the cotton of his shirt.

He won't complain. Will never complain.

Too late for the subway, and with his car parked up still at his place, a taxi is your only solution to get back to your place. A little too far from town, the walk would take just over an hour, and honestly, neither of you fancy it.

Issue is, getting a taxi at this time of night is hellish, too.

"Just stay at mine," Jeongguk insists as you wait by the taxi rank. Thinks it's a no-brainer. He and Jimin live in the city centre. It's the perfect compromise. "We've done it a hundred times over. Are perfectly capable of—"

"No we're not," you laugh. "All I have to do is look at you in the right way and you get hard."

"So don't look at me," he laughs right back, not even caring to protest it, pulling you in for a hug to stop you from jittering around. It's still cold, May yet to greet you both the bloom of a new season. The blossoms of spring wilted away at the start of the month, but it's still not summer quite yet.

"Or maybe you shouldn't look at me ."

"How can I not?" He whines into your hair, pressing a kiss down on the top of your head. "You're so pretty tonight. So pretty all the time."

Pretty, he thinks when you look at him like that.

Pretty, when you do eventually start walking home with him, and the lights of noraebang entryways shinedown on you, colourful and contrasting your silvery shine. Pretty when you giggle. Pretty when he tugs on your hand and pulls you into a sidestreet for a moment or two whenever your teasing gets a little too much.

He'll always say something like, "If I can't kiss you in the next three minutes, I'll die," or, "Is that what you want? My death on your hands?"

And you'll always reply with something like, "You're lucky I don't fancy going to jail tonight."

Sometimes you don't reply at all. Sometimes, you just kiss him. No games.

Just him, and you, and the physical manifestation of the way you feel about him.

The walk back to his place is made far longer than it needs to be. Detours are taken, and wrong turns are deliberately walked down just to give you both more time together. More, more, more is all you ever seem to want from one another.

And yet as you get back to his place, Jeongguk is the one to start arranging the bedding that separates you. Gets all the pillows he can find in his apartment, and begins to make a little nest beside his bed. Keeps the good pillows on his bed, 'cause that's where you'll be, and he wants you comfy.

A boundary was set by you, so as much as he can whine or complain, he'll always respect it.

In fact, if you were to turn around now and say 'fuck it', he'd be the one to reinforce it. Knows you've both had a little too much to drink. Doesn't want you doing anything you'll regret.

"C'mon," he says fondly, coming to stand in front of you at the end of his bed. Cups your jaw and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get washed up, B. Teeth, then bed."

The way Jeongguk feels the need to always take care of you is sweet. Tender. Careful. He fears doing the wrong thing so often, that his default is to be overwhelmingly good.

Comfort is found in this routine of yours.

Domestic, it's sort of devastating when you realise how well-acquainted you are with one another's habits.

He finishes his teeth brushing just before you, 'cause he knows you always like to be the last to finish for some weird, competitive reason.

Knows you sleep with your hair up, cause you hate the way it feels around your neck, so gently slides out the pin keeping half of it up. Lets it tumble down as you come to the end of your brushing, but scoops it back before you go to rid your mouth of toothpaste. Says nothing, still, as he ties your hair up with the thin band around his wrist.

Teeth clean, you turn to face him. Let his body press against yours. Encourage it, in fact, then give no resistance as he drags you to the left of the sink, nor when he hooks his arm beneath your ass and lifts you to perch on the counter.

"So pretty," he whispers, tucking back some loose strands he missed. Just you and him, Jimin's already asleep in the room next door. The apartment is silent save for the thudding of your beating hearts, that carry the weight of an orchestra on their base notes. You'll be a symphony, one day. "You know that right? Prettiest thing I've ever seen. Sparkliest, too."

If Jeongguk were to sit down and think about it, he could probably write a fuckin' sonnet.

But he's drunk, and he's sleepy, and you're just so pretty.

Forehead resting against yours, there's no desire for him to take this further. No need for him to elevate this. All he wants— truly —is for you to know he means it. Not just on a superficial level. On a deeply human, richly complex level.

You make him—his heart —feel pretty, too.

And so even though his nose nudges against yours, lips trembling, he doesn't kiss you. Won't sully his words with overwhelming physical passion. Instead, he lifts you. Carries you to his room. Sets you down on his bed without a single word.

Crazy, how a touch so tender can send you reeling; wanting. His silence is maddening.

It scares you. Worries you that maybe he isn't saying anything because anything he does say will upset you.

It prevails as you turn away from one another to get changed. He strips to his boxers, and you adopt a shirt of his that's been tossed over the back of his desk chair. No different to usual.

But as you settle into bed, and listen to him do the same, it's his voice that breaks the barrier. Bulldozes the wall you had begun to put up around yourself in an act of self-preservation.

"What do you even like about me, B?"

Barely a whisper, it's almost like he's scared of being heard; as if whatever answer you give will devastate him.

So fixated on everything he likes about you, he's beginning to realise that he can't really work out why someone like you would ever go for someone like him.

He's unestablished. Unstable in his career. Has barely finished school. Has no money, or at least not enough to provide you with any of the good stuff in life. Not yet, at least. 

You had to spend an eternity listening to him whine about an ex that has proven herself to be pretty fuckin' awful. You live with the knowledge of all that he's done in pursuit of her. How desperate and pathetic he was.

The monsters that go bump in the night in Jeongguk's room live inside his head. They lie to him; tell him he's unworthy of the things he earned. Whether it be the business he's setting up, or the girl he's been fawning over for months, everything just appears a little out of grasp.

Like a donkey chasing a carrot, he runs and runs. Pursues his desires but can never reach them. He's asking for a lifeline, now. Is desperate.

"In what way?" you ask.

You'll give him a list as long as Jimin's Dionysus bar tab, if he wants. Can think of a million little things you adore—but you're scared, too. Vulnerability has never come easy to either of you.

It's a little ridiculous by now, how you both manage to let the devils on your shoulders worm their way into your ears and corrupt your brains. In the dark of night, it's easier for them to creep in. Less light to reflect upon the glitter that would typically keep them at bay.

"You know what way."

It's true. You do. Of course, you do.

Talk is cheap, you always think. Actions speak louder than words, or so has been the case for Jeon Jeongguk since the moment you met him - but it's words he needs now. Words that will soothe his brain. Words that will wrap around his insecurities.

Insecurities that are exacerbated by the fact you don't want to share a bed with him anymore, and the way your touch has become something that's withheld until he proves himself.

He doesn't even realise the way his mind is chalking up this new rearrangement. Doesn't understand that the slightly sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is anxiety.

Change is never easy, but he knows it's often good. Even with this in mind, Jeongguk feels pretty awful. Maybe it's just the alcohol wearing thin. Maybe he just needs to sleep.

He never wanted things to change. Wanted things to stay exactly how they were. He told you this. All he wanted was the security that you wanted him, too—but now there are rules, and boxes to tick, and a change in a dynamic that he quite frankly thought was perfect before.

With these changes comes a physical distance, of course, yet it's manifesting itself emotionally in a way that you really should have predicted.

He's clingy . Always has been. Always keeps you close.

And now that he can't, he needs something to fill the space left by your prohibited touch.

A similar pang of discomfort washes over you; matches his dis-ease.

"So many things," you start, because it's hard to pick just one.

He stays silent. Knows you're working through your thoughts. Feels embarrassed to be asking for such attention, but he just needs something, anything , to remedy his brain.

The distance between you seems to grow in the silence, much like it did in your apartment when he showed up with his last birds.

Together, you're like an elastic band that just stretches and stretches and—

"Can I come down there, Gguk?"

You're stretching, still. The silence is empty around you as he tries to find the right response.

He gives up. Begs, "Please."

And so— ping .

You snap right back.

Pulling his bedding to the floor, you build an even bigger nest. Snuggle up beside him. Give no resistance, as he pulls you closer. Gets you beneath the same duvet. Shirtless, Jeongguk remains warm to the touch, and your hands remain gentle on his skin.

Both of you take a second to indulge in the closeness. Your leg hooks over his hip, his hand stroking up the back of your thigh as you do so, but it's not taken beyond the simplicity of what it is.

This isn't about sex.

It's about intimacy; about his heart, and how he foolishly felt like glitter had been replaced with shards of glass.

Remedied, Jeongguk can breathe again.

"I like your work ethic," you eventually whisper, brushing back a few strands of his hair, the darkness of the room not obscuring your star boy entirely. He adjusts slightly. Strokes your hip. Nudges his nose up against yours—not for anything other than for the fact he can. Doesn't kiss you. Lets you talk. "You work so hard, Gguk. So hard."

He stays silent. Asked for compliments, but doesn't really know how to respond to them.

So you give him more. Slide your hand up his throat, until his ear rests between your thumb and index finger, nails softly scratching his scalp.

"I also like your hair," you admit, because you're touching it, and it comes to mind, and because you don't think you tell him enough.

"Wanna grow it again," he mumbles, ever critical of himself.

"If you want to, you should," you tell him. "But it always reminds me of when we met when it's like this. I like it both ways."

"Your memory is good," he sort of derails the conversation.

"I remember 'cause it's important," you tell him—then decide to put the carriage of whatever fuck this is back on course. "I remember 'cause you're important, Gguk."

"Even back then?"

"God, especially back then," you insist. "You were so kind. So kind. Kind when you didn't have to be. Barely knew me and yet you made me feel so safe."

"Anyone would have—"

"No," you firmly interject. "Not just anyone. I went to a lot of bars last spring and not a single barman was making sure their punters were getting water. Only you. You go above and beyond for people. It's admirable. I like that. I like how kind you are. God, Gguk, the list is endless."

"Endless?"

"Endless. I like so much about you. So much." And you're not sure if you should continue listing out things, because you fear saying a little too much. Worry that the true nature of your feelings is a little too much for the freshness of this new endeavour. "I just... you're the best person I know. Truly."

He takes a second to fully digest your words. Appreciates them. You. The way you're willing to meet him halfway, and stop him from going off the deep end.

"Will you stay down here?" He whispers against your lips. The delicacy of such a touch leaves you a little breathless, even if it's not his intention. "No funny business. Just wanna be with you, B."

If anything, the lack of Jeongguk's desire for anything physical only makes you want him more. It's bizarre to be in such a state of yearning for someone right in front of you.

It's not like you're particularly in the mood, or deprived, or anything like that - it's just the perfect example of why cultivating intimacy is such a disaster for you. Makes you realise why it's always so impossible to stay away from one another. Sex is never just sex. Not with Jeongguk.

Cut from the same cloth, it's a shared language; one that you only ever speak together.

Nodding, you say, "I'll stay."

Together, you curl into a position more suitable for sleep. He takes the position of the little spoon, 'cause facing one another is dangerous, and so is having his dick to your back. Neither of you are stupid.

At least, you like to pretend you're not.

In the night, you twist and turn regardless. Change positions half a dozen times. Wake up with his arm wrapped over your waist, your body tucked up against his. He's the big spoon now.

"Ignore it," he grumbles into your hair when he feels you begin to stir.

"Impossible," you sleepily hum into the pillows, needing absolutely no confirmation of what he's talking about. Can feel him digging into your back. "Too big."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks, and presses a kiss to the back of your hair. Tightens his grip around, to say a silent morning.

"Mhmm," you confirm. "You can add it to the list of things I like about you."

"Fuck off," he scolds, but you can hear the smile in his tone.

"In fact, put it at the top of the list."

"The top?!" He protests—yet he's holding you ever tighter, still.

"Mmm, maybe just behind the free drinks at Dionysus."

"Don't remind me of work," he whines.

"You in tonight?"

"Mhmm," he regretfully mumbles. "Got a meeting with the bank first, though. Busy day."

"Want me to get going?" you ask, reaching up to grab your phone from the bedside table. Checking the time, you ignore all the texts from Danbi wondering how it went. Will just tell her later. Truthfully, you're not even sure how it went. "It's just gone nine. Want me to get outta your hair?"

"Meeting isn't until one," he tells you, but does add, "I've got some things I need to sort out beforehand."

"Say no more," you offer, stretching yourself out and away from his grasp. He whines and he moans, because he's Jeongguk, and of course he does. You tease him, and tell him not to miss you too much, because you're you, and of course you do.

But all Jeongguk does in your absence is miss you.

Spends most of his time in his bank meeting ignoring the clerk. Will read the paperwork later. Is still frustrated with the situation at hand, still yet to find a solution to his problem. Still yet to tell you about, 'cause he doesn't realise a problem shared is a problem halved. Will keep the bank issue tucked away. Nothing for you to worry about.

When work rolls by, he's checking his phone every few minutes. Earns himself some not-so-subtle side-eyes from Yeonjun. Loses 50k in a bet with him over how long he could go without checking his phone. Jeongguk is adamant he hit the fifteen-minute mark. Yeonjun was timing it. Was eight.

As the week progresses, your schedules aren't aligning. Alongside work, you're prepping Tae's next art show, and becoming painfully aware of how unsustainable it is—especially because the new curator is just as shit as you were warned they would be.

You're not just burning the candle at both ends; it's been dumped in a wax burner. Wick intact, it's the wax that's melting away.

Something's gotta give, and regretfully, it kinda feels like Jeongguk has been the sacrifice.

Stress is becoming well acquainted with you both.

He tries filling his empty space with the gym. It always used to work. Jiyeong still ignores him whenever he turns up, and it suits him just fine, but she has started at least looking ambivalent. The daggers he used to get never cut him particularly deep, but he didn't like the scratches on his skin for merely existing.

Still, his head is full of you—what you're doing, how work is, how he wishes you'd show up at the end of his sessions like you used to do, coffee in hand. Doesn't get why going on dates now means that you don't just hang out like normal.

So he hits personal bests, and has no one to tell when he leaves, shirt sticking to his back, eyes dark. There's a near-permanent ridge between his brows, testosterone up but his drive to do anything about it way down.

He gets coffee by himself, and smiles when the girl at the counter flirts with him like she always, but internally spends the entire interaction telling her to get fucked. She's a nice girl. Jeongguk's sure she's really nice, in fact, but he's so frustrated with everything that he can't even take pleasure from the acknowledgement that he's desired.

Doesn't want it.

Just wants you.

But you're busy, and so is he, and the one evening he thought you might be free to hang out, you had pole with Danbi, so he even finds himself resenting that. It's at that point he knows he's going mad, because what lover of the female anatomy would ever hate that?

He sends you pictures from his bed, and you send him pictures right back, just as innocent as they are illicit. Just shoulders. Lips. Rumpled duvets, that are only really disturbed on one side. Allusions to that fact you'd rather be with one another. Declarations of your yearning without anything tangible.

It's just under a week until Yoongi and Seoyeon's big day, and he worries that you guys will be in an awkward state of limbo. Doesn't want to have to face all your friends and act all normal while you're still in this clumsy stage.

There's a very real fear within Jeongguk that the first date just wasn't... right . That you've had time to think, and know that he isn't suited to you. That his insecurities or neediness have somehow made him unattractive, to you. That you're biding your time until you can figure out a way to let him gently.

And yet come Saturday—

"Thought I was gonna die," Jeongguk desperately husks into your lips, hips pressed to your tummy, your back to your apartment door. He's not even taken his shoes off yet, and for some reason, you're stripping him of his jacket. "Swear my brain doesn't work without you."

"That's, like—" His kisses never let you get more than a word or two out. "—probably not—" God, he's insatiable. "—healthy, babe."

And then he's groaning. Telling you not to call him that. Kissing you even harder just to get his desire out of his system—but it never fuckin' eases. Never does with you.

Just like you'll never stop calling him by the names that make him weak. You like him like this. Like his neediness. He never needs to worry. You know exactly who he is. None of this comes as a surprise.

For now, though, you've gotta reel it in. You've a date to have. One planned by you, this time. One that'll strip you back to who you are—no external pressure to perform, no big need to get it right.

Just you, and him, and little paint (but, sadly, a lot less boobs).

"C'mon," you smile, pulling away, realising maybe you shouldn't have taken his jacket off him (even if it did mean you could get your hands up his shirt in the midst of your makeout session). "Let's go."

The hold that Jeongguk has on your hand as you lead him up the stairs of your apartment block rooftop is loose. Barely there. Just enough. A whisper of a touch; everything that needs to be said.

It tightens in the small enclosure just in front of the door that leads to your roof.

Just you and him, the winding flight of stairs beneath you is empty. Mid-afternoon, it won't be long until the sun sets.

You love this time of year for that very purpose. The setting sun is always far brighter, far bolder, far keener to welcome in your favourite time of day. The longer the stars are in the sky, the more at home you feel.

Jeongguk's always been a bit of a night owl, too. It's fated, perhaps, that he should find himself in a permanent state of yearning for the brightest star he's ever known. It's always the middle of the night when he's with you. Always his favourite time of the day.

Could be seven in the morning, but as long as you're beside him? Favourite time. Could be midday sunshine, but if you're there? Favourite time . Could be a time like right now, mid-afternoon, not a star in the sky, and yet? Favourite time.

You're midnight.

Not in a way that invokes fear or suspicion, like the midnight streets of a busy city, but in a way that invites mystery and intrigue. You're midnight in the same way that Dionysus is; fun, a little ridiculous, and always a good time. Midnight, in how you shine. Sparkle. Midnight, in the way that Jeongguk thinks you must be a dream.

It's the only way to explain how he's stumbled across another human so perfectly out of key. So perfect for him. Immaculate in how you radiate everything Jeongguk desires; flawless in the way you align with him. Body, mind, spirit. All of the cliche things, with none of the cliche.

Though still gentle with his touch, Jeongguk becomes a little more domineering than he had been. Takes control of the position, knowing that the plans beyond the weighty steel door are all yours.

It's not like he minds giving up control. Gladly does it. Just doesn't want you thinking that he takes any of this for granted. Doesn't want you to think he's just going along with what you want, because it's easy. Wants to prove to you that all of his choices right now are deliberate.

That he's intentional. That he's choosing you , not just the path of least resistance.

He pulls you back, and your body naturally turns to face his, like a tide rolling in or the sun setting beyond it. There's silence as you're dragged towards Jeongguk, with only shy giggles to accent your movements when he gets your back pressed to the door.

"No funny business," you remind him as his nose nudges against yours. "We haven't even started date number two. It's the rules, Gguk."

He simply shrugs. Nudges your nose one last time before sinking his lips down into yours—and the way you accept him so willingly would suggest you really don't care all too much about that damn rule.

"Rules are made to be broken," he assures you, lips brushing yours with every mumbled word.

"I'm gonna think you only care about the sex," you warn him softly.

You won't think that at all. You've known him for long enough now to understand how he works; why he doesn't sleep around much. Sex, for Jeongguk, is an extension of himself; how he feels.

So yeah, while Jeongguk might chase his own pleasure during sex, it's never the goal. Not really. It's a nice by-product, sure, but it's not the reason he fucks.

Just like kissing is a declaration for you, the way he gives himself up is a declaration for him. A way to speak his words without having to say anything at all.

He shakes his head against you, lips still pressing down into yours. Groans a little as he pulls away. Rests his forehead on yours, and says, "I fuck you because I care about you. Stupid."

"Calling me stupid isn't gonna make me believe you," you tease him, rolling away from his grasp. Quite like it when he calls you dumb names like that. Makes everything feel so much simpler, like a childhood romance, or something dumb like that. Lowers the stakes. Still, you're pedantic, and he knows this. You'll be bratty, always. "Was working in your favour until you said that. Shame."

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes. Smirks. Relents. Isn't holding your hand anymore and misses it, but knows you need to unlock the door. Says, "You didn't let me finish."

"Finish?" you laugh, twisting the door handle and pushing the door open. Jeongguk's hand comes to press against the metal above your head, helping with the weight of the door.

"Mhmm," he says as natural light pours into the small enclosure, following you as you step out onto the rooftop. "Was gonna say stupid hot . You're stupid hot ."

"You are so full of shit."

Maybe he is bullshitting you. Maybe he's the stupid one. Maybe none of it matters, because the way his hands come to settle on your waist as he follows you in the open space makes you feel all silly inside. Goofy. Stupid .

Oh, how you hate it when he's right.

And when Jeongguk sees what you've got set up on the rooftop for the pair of you—paint, and canvases, and the promise of something sweet blossoming beneath clementine skies—he has to stop himself from blurting out something equally stupid, like 'you're so perfect, ' or, 'I'm so in love with you.'

Instead, he just smiles. Presses a kiss to the curve of your neck. Husks, "We both know how this ends, B."

"Different this time," you tell him, walking in tandem with him over the blanket and cushions that he recognises from your apartment. "Last time you were in denial about how much you like boobs."

"True."

"And so now I don't need to convince you they're the greatest thing on planet Earth."

"What if I just look?" he chances, flopping down onto the surprisingly comfortable surface. "Promise I won't touch?"

"Nope."

"You're so mean, Disco Ball."

"You love it," you tease, coming to lounge by him.

He doesn't say it. Doesn't need to. You both know his little laugh, and the silence that follows means one thing and one thing only.

Yeah, he thinks to himself. Suppose I do.

[rachelsshowerthoughts]

I had the most hilarious Aware AU thoughts:

OK, so everything leading up to Origins is the same as discussed.

When Adrien stops to help Fu he's almost caught but Chloe was waiting outside & jumped in when Nathalie showed up and made a sufficient enough spectacle that Sabrina could grab Adrien and they bolt into the school.

Argument over seats ensues, Adrien & Nino making tentative friends.

Kagami is probably around but maybe not in this class. Gabriel is irritated but also figures that an Akuma attack is a good reason to force Adrien out of going to school & keeps Nathalie waiting. So he can't even head out to the arcade across the street.

This is all a big red flag to Nino when he hears & sees that yes, Adrien's bodyguard & his fathers assistant have basically parked outside the school to obsessively watch them all day.

Stuff happens, Ivan becomes an Akuma & in the chaos Adrien, Chloe & maybe Sabrina, grudgingly agree to go to the Agreste Mansion cos it is at least very heavily fortified. Minor argument with Nathalie but time is dead bodies with a giant rock monster around.

Anyway this means Adrien has company when he finds Plagg.

Fortunately the Kwami of Destruction is all in favor of teenage rebellion "Fuck yeah, stick it to the old people!" & has no issue ignoring that Chloe knows Adrien's identity, though they do work to cover it up a little bit when needed.

But, but, but, here's the fun part.

Chloe also becomes Chat Noir.

Not all the time but when its impractical for Adrien to do it she dons the ring. Both already having many aesthetic commonalities and a familiarity with each others personalities, the way the Glamour works & mild physical form changes when transforming and... No one notices, not even Fu!

Also both flirt with Ladybug, a lot.

This also helps keep a bit of a divide going once Fu is discovered, because Adrien shares details on the book with at least her, or potentially the entire "Shitty parents club". & this leads to knowing about Fu earlier and a more contentious relationship.

IE, he wants to take Plagg back, Plagg does not want to go back, they do not want Plagg to go back & they have enough information to make Fu's entire operation very fucking difficult.

Also the book may be found or stolen earlier.

Like Bubbler is a great time/excuse to trash the mansion for funsies ya know?

Obviously Marinette is not a fan of this whole... Everything, even if she doesn't get all the details or learn IDs, she respects authority figures and seniors, & though she might not want to lose Chat she doesn't think turning it into a contest of wills is the "Right" way to fix things.

Also I think Kagami might be Marinette's first pick for an extra ally which might happen sooner as Fu would want someone else more in line with his thinking on side.

This isn't a dig at Alya, but in Aware Marinette as technically known Kagami longer. Sees her as very respectful & dutiful, and has 100% seen her bravely try to throw down with Akuma to keep people safe.

Meanwhile the bee, or perhaps snake or tiger can still end up lost XD

Chat: Me, knowing the location of the Miraculous no one told me was missing? Its less likely than you think! Also Chat: Hey, new hero, we should definitely 100% accept this person & not question their identity!

One big difference between Fu & the other shitty adults, is that he's much more like Roger. IE, he is trying to do the right thing, genuinely does not want to bring anyone pain. He is just intensely paranoid & overly cautious tot he point where it can become harmful.

So, first of all, this is hilarious to me. Yes, absolutely, all of this.

second, I see your "Kagami is chosen by Marinette first", and raise you "As a body double". Like, I think part of why Alya gets picked to be the Fox was proximity - the Akuma was her little sisters, it was the middle of the night, she's already aware of the situation, Marinette trusts her and needs a teammate, boom, Alya gets to be the Fox. However, for Kagami, you're right, she does know her longer here, so probably trusts her more. So, I suggest learning about the "Cat Siblings" (this is Marinette's best guess, if she doesn’t have their identities, that the Chat Noir duo are siblings) gives Marinette ideas. Like, yes, Fu is clearly against it, but part of Marinette probably thinks "dammit, that’s such a good system, though!". How many times has she been screwed over because she had to be Ladybug, and completely fucked up her schedule? There being TWO people to be Cat Noir, while not ideal, is still better for Cat Noir in general. Not that Marinette would EVER do something like that, once the Guardian makes his stance clear! Oh no, absolutely not!

Which, uh, doesn’t mean she hasn’t THOUGHT about someone else to let borrow the earrings in an emergency, OR that she hasn’t thought about Kagami specifically, OR that she hasn’t quietly discussed it with Tikki (in hypotheticals) what to do if she's taken out! So (my best guess for what happens) when Marinette comes down with a particularly nasty flu, and can't even stand up without feeling dizzy, she actually doesn’t think that long before calling up Kagami, like, "uh, hey, weird question, do you think you could take over being Ladybug for me? I can taste colours, and not in the fun way."

Of course, Kagami does it, and because she's VERY different from Marinette (personality-wise) while the public is fooled thanks to the Glamour, Cat Noir is "uh, excuse me? Who are you???", and Kagami has to awkwardly explain that your regularly scheduled Ladybug currently has a fever of one hundred and four, and can't really leave the bathroom right now, so she's filling in. After it’s all over, she quickly leaves to give Marinette the earrings back (maybe drop off some medicine?), and Cat Noir(e) is left feeling, like, "ha, maybe the old man will get off our backs now, Ladybug clearly agrees with us!"

Which. Uh. Yeah, no, that doesn’t really happen. Maybe Ladybug's just better at explaining it, (or Fu is just a little prejudiced against the Cat in particular, I imagine the Order weren’t Plagg’s biggest fans, Fu probably internalized a lot of their shit), but he's . . . not OKAY with Ladybug sharing her ID and position with another person, but much more understanding. If Marinette was really that sick, then going out as Ladybug would have been seriously detrimental to both her and the fight against Hawk Moth. And there NEEDS to be a Ladybug in every fight, to purify the Akuma. Yes, Fu would rather she hadn’t done it, but it was clearly the right decision at the time, so Fu will trust Marinette on this. He still doesn’t recommend doing it too often, but a back up Ladybug is clearly a good idea.

Well, this means that Back Up Cat is good too, right? Nope! Still salty about them, still thinks one of them should knock it off, still thinks he should take the Miraculous back!

Yeah, you can imagine how this is going down with the Cat Noir(e) Duo. ESPECIALLY because this is the Aware Kids. It’s every instance of favouritism, of "unexceptional", of "not good enough". Congrats Fu, you just got knocked into "Adults we DO NOT trust"! You already had a foothold, now you get a proper seat!

On the flip side, I see this as where Marinette starts questioning Fu a little more. Because for all her black and white mentality, all her naïveté, the double-standard is GLARING. She's spent the past few months watching the battle of Wills that is Cat Noir(e) Vs Fu. She was expecting a HELL of a talking to once she wasn't throwing up her stomach. Instead, she gets mild disappointment at the SITUATION, general understanding, and even gets COMMENDED for her reasoning and quick reaction to the situation. Which makes her go "waitwait,wait, wait, hold the FUCK up", because what? What the HELL? Why is it ok if SHE does the thing that Fu's been railing against, but not Cat Noir(e)? Good grief, shouldn’t it have been a worse decision? The Cat Noir(e) Duo at least started at roughly the same time. They've been training and getting better alongside her. Now that Marinette's no longer fever-fogged, she's thinking it honestly would have made more sense to have Tikki take the earrings, and go find one of the duo to be a replacement Ladybug. They would have at least had some idea what they were doing! But no, instead she sent a friend, who had barely any idea, to do the job. And that's . . . . fine? What? And DON'T say it’s cause Ladybug needs to be there to purify the Akuma, Marinette knows she NEEDS back up! If anything, the Cat Noir(e) Duo was always kind of a comfort to her, cause she knew she was always likely to have SOMEONE there to support her. Fu so clearly showing favouritism is a hit to Marinette's view of all authority figures being kind and reasonable, making her start questioning him a bit more. Which, ya know, is probably needed.

On Fu himself, yes, he is very much like Roger. I'm not sure on how the particulars work out, since we have no idea what Roger's home life was like as a kid, but I've been operating under the adage "nothing exists in a vacuum". Roger didn’t spring forth fully formed with his opinions on "serving the public (toxic)", he had to learn that somewhere. Someone taught him those views, which he's passing onto Sabrina. And we SEE, at least partially, Fu getting taught his paranoia - if not from the Order itself, from the incident that took the Order away, which Fu probably feels a lot of guilt for. Which, as far as I can tell, he's managing by doubling down on the few teachings he had. Don’t give out IDs. Always put the Miraculous back in the box, don’t let them out. Don’t let the Kwami know any secrets.

Unfortunately, much like Roger, I feel like Fu also needs to see his stubbornness blow up in his face before he realizes he's fucking up.