#and between the high emotion of the moment and the swelling of the music.... god i just hope it doesnt look awful on top of that!

[soft--dragon]

Something I want but will probably never get is a scene in The Bad Batch of Crosshair and Omega having a tender/soft moment together. None of the other boys are around, it's just the grouchy older brother and sunshine little sister being able to hang out together and nothing goes wrong.

Small drabble idea below :)

The scene I've envisioned is Crosshair fresh outta the Empire and back with his brothers, but he doesn't feel like he belongs there, or that he hasn't earnt a place back with them after what he chose. He's sitting on the stairs of the Havoc Marauder in the evening, toothpick in his fingers and listening to a song on the radio beside him. Omega finds him like that, alone, so horribly cut off from the warmth inside the ship and away from his batch mates.

She takes a seat next to him and he tries not to flinch at her sudden presence, but it's obvious he's still quite high strung after his experience with the empire. She gently coaxes him into conversation, ranging from topics that could be his favourite colour or the best shot he's ever had with his rifle. Slowly but surely, he starts to unravel and open himself a bit more to her, letting the child goad him into some playful banter

The evening goes along, the light from the Havoc Marauder casting the pair in a warm glow. Omega, having run out of questions, lets the silence settle comfortably between them, the radio being the only noise besides the gentle murmurs of the other Batchers talking inside the ship.

A soft song comes on the radio and Omega recognizes it, it was one of Echo's favourites to sing when he thought no one else could hear him. She slowly turns it up and stands from her spot to offer her hand to her big brother, a silent request to dance. Crosshair lifts a brow skeptically but after a moment of internal debate and an unwavering staring contest, he lets her pull him up and onto the grass at the base of the stairs. She treats him like glass as she gently places her hand on his side and holds his hand carefully in hers, smiling up at Crosshair when he rests his free hand on her shoulder. Slowly, they start to move in a circle, not much coordination or plan in their steps, but staying within the rhythm of the music nonetheless.

The longer they dance together, Crosshair's tense posture unwinds further, and he slumps a bit, letting out a slow breath. It's the first time his brow has lost its furrow since he got back, and Omega is relieved to see his face without the tension. Feeling brave, she risks saying something that might make Crosshair clam up. "I'm glad you're here," she whispers, earnest and trusting. "It's nice."

Crosshair doesn't respond for a while, absorbing the quiet admittance in his own time. After a minute, he hums lowly, his eyes on the skyline to avoid meeting Omega's concerned, innocent eyes. He hesitates then mutters, "It isn't the worst, I suppose."

Omega's eyes light up, a beaming smile on her face. Crosshair gets no warning. She lets go of his hand and side to embrace his middle, hugging him tightly and still swaying on the spot to the music. Crosshair stares down at her for a long while, then scoffs and rests his arms over her shoulders.

"Womp rat," he grumbles, pretending there isn't a fond slant to his eyes and a small quirk of his lips.

"Grouch," Omega says back softly, affection evident in her tone.

They slowly spin in circles to the song, Omega hugging her big brother to reassure herself that he's really here, and Crosshair keeps his eyes on the sky so he doesn't have to deal with the swelling emotion building inside of him.

For the first time in what felt like years, he feels safe.

Will something like this ever happen? Highly unlikely, I know Mr Dave Filoni and I know he's more likely to stomp on our hearts and throw salt in the wound. I truly hope Crosshair gets something akin to this though, god knows he needs it. The trope of characters slow dancing together and being vulnerable holds a very special place in my heart, and I low-key want Crosshair to have a moment like that

Also, the song I was listening to while envisioning this was 'Apocalypse' by Cigarettes After Sex, it's really a beautiful song, and it makes me emotional every time I hear it :)

Also, feel like I should add that despite some of the lyrics in the song, this idea is all entirely platonic and shouldn't be taken romantically please and thank you <3

[sadsongsandstories]

So it seems I might have judged the epic musical demo too harshly

I think a lot of the criticisms I felt are still totally valid, but at the same time there are some amazing character moments, pretty good humour and some effective emotional motifs

That said,

I still feel like the entire soundtrack suffers from a case of tryhard, and try hard in the sense of trying to be the next Hamilton, when it's not. Because Hamilton takes some incredible skill and writing, and years spent perfecting every number, which it seems to be epic does not have. The rhymes often feel painfully forced and straight forward. I don't care how badly you want your lyrics to rhyme, survive and alive should not be paired five times in five different songs. And rhyme is important to music, Hamilton rhymes spent with cent, sent and scent, which works perfectly. The issue might be that the emphasis is always on the rhyme, or that it's always aa bb cc dd rhyme. The songs have an imagine dragons feel to them, which is a strange sense to get from a musical soundtrack.

Which kinda leads to my next point, there are no highs and lows. Or more accurately, there are only highs. The songs are hype after hype which really does not work, for any medium, but especially musicals. Both within the songs and within the soundtrack, various is key, with the swells and flows creating an emotional journey for the audience. Instead, every song sounds kinda samesie, with a couple of gems thrown in to spice it up. I know this is a dramatic voyage across the sea. I know it is literally and figuratively epic, and the music does reflect that. But epicness can only be perceived relative to its absence, which is a fact they seem to forget.

Hamilton masters this balance. And I'm sorry for the repeated comparisons to Hamilton, but this musical seems to demand parallels be made! Songs like my shot, right hand man, and satisfied are intense and exciting, full of big dramatic moments and fast raps, and in between them we find softer, simpler ballads, like the story of tonight, helpless, and farmer refuted. Even fan favouites like you'll be back starts slower before building up.

Listening to epic, there isn't a sense of variation, and as such the songs all seem to blur together. The repeated hypeness makes it all rather forgettable, and the endless intensity makes listening kinda tiresome eventually.

Onto some of the good stuff, because there is definitely good bits

The gods are done really well!! The way they appear and immediately command their respective songs is effective, and in each case make for powerful memorable numbers. I like this Hermes and persoidon especially, since they're different to the portrayals I'm used to, being a hadestown and Percy Jackson fan. Persoidon is absolutely the villain of this tale, and his song perfectly reflects that. Circe also seems quite well suited to her mythological character, and wind goddess is perfectly serviceable. Polyphemus not so much, I really can't stand his lyrics and I feel like he should sound notably different, but that's a minor point.

The moments of complete chorus chanting, and the motifs therein, are all striking and effective. You can feel the yearning to get back home alive, or the weight of the 600 men under Odysseus' command. Full speed ahead is a bop, and it's repetitions do well to remind us of the endless homeward journey.

Odysseus is not Odysseus enough. Odysseus is a cunning trickster and wise leader, and the only moment when I felt that was at the end of the persoidon song, (which has hilarious and clever). And if this is meant to be a more flawed portrayal from which he can learn and grow, then show that. Show his egotism and selfishness, but maybe not singchanting it at the top of his lungs over crashing choral vocals. Show don't tell. Let us see the man or the hero or the menace.

In Hamilton, - I'm sorry I will stop with Hamilton I swear!! It's just such a similar approach, a protagonist driven tale with a flawed hero who must learn and grow - Hamilton acts arrogant and rash, and we see him fail as a result, many times over. Yes he sings his feelings, but it's done few and far between, and each time is done completely. The aside in my shot, and it's repetition in the battle of Yorktown, are the only times we really hear his mind in act one, along with dear Theodosia. Otherwise, his mind is seen through his actions and conversations, or with the words and motifs of others. Hurricane is a massive monologue, and we understand everything. He pulls it all together, thing narrative threads like a conspiracy theorist to his own life, justifying and explaining every action we have seen him take, and the biggest choice (and potentially mistake) of his life. Just before his death, we hear another such monologue. It's like slam poetry, and unlike the rest of the musical rings cold and hollow. This is a man moments before death, and we get to share in his reflection on the life we have just seen him lead. When he aims his pistol at the sky, we understand, we hear him and we follow every swerve and pivot of his mind. Every motif, every relationship, every love and loss has been leading to this moment. And we watch as he aims his pistol at the sky, solidifying his legacy.

That is epic

That's how you create an epic musical with an epic ending

The world will never be the same, and now we know why

Because Hamilton is not a hero one might consider worth singing about. He's just some guy, one of many founding fathers who added some things to the birth of one nation and made some mistakes. The musical could have been about Washington, or Jefferson, or any of the other more relevant and notable historical figures. But no, Lin man chose Hamilton. And for whatever reason, he ran with it. And by the end, you don't question the decision. There is no doubt that this was an incredible story, and one that the world needed to hear. Hamilton is a hero, an epic hero, not because the story is inherently epic, but because of its portrayal. Because of Lin man's skill as a master poet.

Epic, meanwhile is a story the world knows and cares about. Now they just have to do it justice. Because it's not a given. The characters have to be clear and powerful and emotional, real people with motivation and desires, who have normal human conversations, even if they are rapped. The story has to have highs and lows, and fit together as a singular coheatanr narrative. Because at this stage, it seems like too many myths and characters and moments to really make sense. The music has to reflect the story, and carry the narrative, where each song is amazing in its own right, while being integral to the overall narrative.

And it's a tall ask, but that's how it is with musicals! It's a tough artform, which is all part of why it's my favourite.

By the end of epic, I want to have seen the tale of the Odyssey in it's full musical glory, but I also want to feel like it was necessary and sufficient to portray it in the musical medium. I want to see odysseus as a man and a legend. It can be done, Hamilton does it, hadestown does it, legally blonde does it, every musicals with a strong protagonist fulfills this duty. The hero has to be a regular person, with regular person reactions, flaws, and dialogue. And at the same time, they have to grow into a spectacle, a remarkable force to be reckoned with. Like veronica Sawyer, or Tris from hairspray. And they have to learn, be broken down and built up and left to reflect on the journey that they have taken. Like Evan Hansen. And the audience has to be drawn in, spun around to a boppy tune, carried to the brink of heaven and spat down to the depths of despair only to be shown a light.

That's how you do epic

That's how you make a music amazing

That's why musicals can be transformational

You just have to do the work, and get it right.

[crowfootwrites]

Undone [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Ok, so this is the first time I could get myself to write smut for Nestor, which is weird to think about because he is a SEXY motherfucker, you know?

Anyway, I know I've been on a Nestor roll lately, but I swear I have other stuff coming, too. Two Bishop pieces and a Chibs piece in the works.

So, this is a fluffy, smutty one-shot for Nestor, whom I adore.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut (cunnilingus, fingering, P in V sex); mention of blood | Words: 1,690

When Nestor arrived home that night, exhausted, with his clothes covered in dried blood, he found you dancing in the kitchen, unaware of his presence. Soft music swelled from your phone propped on the counter and you waltzed over the tile in bare feet, your red silk robe fluttering around your thighs. Your eyes were closed and you wore a dreamy look on your face, swaying to the music that Nestor identified as one of your favorite piano pieces. He stood silently in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you adoringly. After grueling days of carrying out deplorable deeds on behalf of Miguel, Nestor could always count on coming home to your loving embrace, and he was thankful for it every day.

Today had been one of those days, as evidenced by the bloodstains on his clothes and the droop in his shoulders. Your eyes opened slowly to check your phone, awaiting a text or call from Nestor, only to find him standing in front of you, longing in his eyes. Your heart swelled at the sight of him. You glanced briefly at the dried blood on his clothes as you took the few steps that would place him in your arms. He held you tightly, pressing his face into the curve of your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of your jasmine perfume. You felt the steady heartbeat in his chest against yours for a moment before stepping back to look over him. You sighed teasingly at his stained clothes.

“What am I going to do with you, Oceteva?”

Nestor grinned sheepishly. “Have a lower water bill probably.”

You laughed, and nudged him towards the laundry room, where you helped him strip down until he stood beside the dryer in just his boxer briefs, leaning casually against the machine. He watched as you began the process of stain removal on his clothes, a process you had refined over the last couple of years with Nestor. While you left his pants and shirt to soak before washing, you glanced over to admire the view of Nestor’s exposed body, smirking to yourself. As your gaze traveled to his face, you recognized the fatigue in his stance and his eyes. With a quiet hum, you traced your fingers lightly over his warm side before lacing them with his. You led him to the living room, bathed in dim yellow lamplight, where you took a seat on the couch with your legs spread and motioned for him to sit on the floor in front you. Relatively early in your relationship, Nestor had confessed just how much he loved when you played with his hair, and so you had always made a point of being the one to do and then undo his hair.

You pulled the little black rubber bands from the bottoms of his two braids, gently running your fingers through the twisted strands to untangle his curls. You were more than a little envious of Nestor’s hair, but being the one who got to play with it felt like an acceptable consolation prize. You worked your way through his hair deliberately, massaging his scalp with your fingertips as you approached the crown of his head, savoring the little sighs and moans that slipped between his lips. Over the years, you had come to associate letting out Nestor’s braids with a weight being lifted, at least for the night; as though each little motion helped to untangle the knots of moral quandary that he carried inside him as a result of his work for the cartel.

In the beginning, Nestor had been hesitant to even get involved with you. He was, understandably, worried about putting you in harm’s way, but he was more worried about the emotional and psychological toll that being even peripherally related to the cartel could cause. It had taken significant convincing on your part to show him that you weren’t afraid, and that you weren’t going anywhere.

When Nestor’s braids were completely undone, you found yourself absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, parsing out his curls and twirling them around your fingers. His head tipped backwards into your lap, his eyes closed contentedly. As you gazed down at him, at the smoothing of the lines on his face, you smiled, letting your fingers caress his cheekbones, the cut across his temple, his bearded jaw. As your thumb grazed his lower lip, he reached a hand to yours, holding it still to place a soft kiss on your palm. You lowered your face to hover over his, nuzzling his nose, and a contented hum resonated in his chest.

Before you could register what was happening, Nestor had turned towards you, coming onto his knees between your legs. He rested his palms on the tops of your thighs, his thumbs brushing the hem of your silk robe. His grasp was firm and warm and it built a slow fire in your belly. His dark eyes studied you, a mixture of hunger and tenderness swirling in their depths. His grip tightened on your legs and he tugged you slightly forward before tugging at the sash of your robe, letting it fall open. You caught the quick clench of his jaw when he realized you were completely naked underneath. He pushed the robe off your shoulders, resting his head on your stomach and for a moment, all was still.

Slowly, Nestor pressed his lips to your hip, dragging the tip of his nose along your skin, raising goosebumps. Your fingers trailed along his cheek as his head moved lower. He nudged your legs further apart, planting a trail of lazy kisses between your thighs. A sigh slipped out of you and you melted into Nestor’s touch as his tongue dipped between your folds, his touch delicate and teasing. When he felt the first twitch of your hips, beckoning, begging for more, he sank himself deeper, his tongue dancing over your clit while two thick fingers pushed into you.

“God, Nestor,” you moaned, coming undone with his efforts.

A low hum of pleasure built in his chest as your fingers wound themselves into his hair and pulled tenderly, keeping him settled between your legs. You begged him for more as your eyes closed, your head falling back against the couch cushions. You squirmed in his grip, your hips grinding against this mouth.

His fingers picked up the pace, and you gazed down at him, whimpering at the hungry look in his dark eyes as he peered back at you from under his full lashes. He studied you intently, captivated by the way your body writhed before him. His free hand slid in a slow caress up your side, cupping your breast and running his thumb gently over your nipple. Heat radiated across your face as the coil in your belly tightened, so utterly close to snapping. Nestor pushed you further, lapping against your core with a flattened tongue. A new pressure settled behind your eyes as you trembled desperately, every muscle in your body tensed as Nestor took you over the edge. You came hard and loud, your thighs clenching around Nestor’s head instinctively as you rode the jolt of electricity surging through you. Nestor didn’t let up, his mouth and fingers bearing down on you until you were pushing him away, thoroughly overstimulated. He sat back on his heels with a smirk as you panted, your lips parted in reverence.

You pushed yourself up with weak arms, your chest heaving. You reached out and pulled Nestor to you, capturing him in a desperate kiss, not wanting him to be any farther away from you. Whining breathily at the taste of yourself on his tongue, you gripped his hips firmly, guiding him to sit on the couch beside you. You admired the way the soft light in your living room warmed his skin, highlighting the taut planes of his chest and stomach. You swung your leg lazily over his lap, straddling him as his lips delicately brushed the soft skin between your breasts.

You gasped as you lowered yourself onto Nestor’s hard length, warmth reigniting in the base of your belly. His strong hands slipped over your hips and came to rest on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Your chest rested flush against his, your rapid heartbeats echoing one another’s. You looped your arms around his neck as you pressed your forehead against the crown of his head, rolling your hips against him. Unbridled groans and mumbled words of admiration tumbled from his mouth, his face captive between your breasts. His hands pressed harder on your back, pulling you down to bury himself fully inside you. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, his thumb circling your clit slowly to send you reeling. Nestor tossed his head back, his long curls splayed over the couch cushions, his neck bared to you. You trailed kisses along his neck tattoo, letting your tongue taste the salt on his skin. He murmured your name and you felt him tense beneath you. He took control, fucking up into you, slow and exacting, chasing his high.

It was too much; the tender way Nestor touched you, the building tension in your core, the slow rhythm and heat between your bodies. As his hips bucked beneath you, you came again, head thrown back and back arched, bliss coursing through your veins. The feeling of your walls clenching around Nestor’s cock wrecked him. With a few more erratic thrusts, he clutched you to his chest and spilled himself inside of you, his arms locking you in place. As he came down, he pressed velvet kisses along your cheekbones and across your forehead.

“Gracias por cuidarme, hermosa. (Thank you for taking care of me, beautiful.) Coming home to you keeps me sane,” he mumbled against your temple.

“You deserve to be taken care of, mi amor,” you whispered, running your hands through his loose curls again, watching as his eyelids began to droop at the fond touch. You smiled warmly, satisfied that, at least until tomorrow, Nestor’s braids had been undone and he had been unburdened.

[h2bakugou]

Hewoo I saw requests were open and this really cute idea popped in my head can get a lot of fluff with Denki where he surprises his s/o on they're anniversary in front of the whole school

a/n: hiii!! ooo this is so cute omg, we stan denki. please i- i love him so much i cant

summary: with your one-year anniversary coming up soon, kaminari had every intention of making it big, he’d been dating you for a whole year! however, his plan may or may get a little out of his hands when he ends up confessing in front of nearly the whole school.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a camp rock line(i never watched high school musical sorry)

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

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Kaminari had met you in secondary school, the year before you both got into U.A. It was coincidentally on a whim when your class collaborated with his on a debate project on some literature project. 

You were paired together, four students from your class on a team with four from his class.

He was goofy, light-hearted, kind, and way too flirty for his age, but you ignored his cheesy pick-up lines until you won the debate.

He’d asked to exchange numbers at the very least since you’d become friends. And that friendship kindled over time, so much so, that you were both over the moon about applying to U.A. together. 

And before you knew it, Kaminari was walking hand-in-hand with you home from the park, or from the grocery store, the two of you often hanging out together over break, excited to be making dinner one night, or happy to help out over at his house.

Needless to say, a few of those long summer nights when you spent time in the pool alone with him, you couldn’t help but let out how you really feel, the two of you eventually establishing something more than a friendship.

You headed to the entrance exams as a couple, and you were both too happy to speak when you saw one another in class the following week.

And now you sat in the Class 1-A dormitory common room, Kaminari’s body between your legs as you put up his hair, a face mask applied to both of your faces as you giggled and reminisced about your time together, your anniversary of being together for one year coming up soon.

“Remember the one time you had to go to the ER because of the shopping cart accident?” Kaminari brought up a rather embarrassing story.

“That poor old lady was petrified, she thought she’d killed me.” You and Kaminari had been goofing off in the grocery store parking lot, returning the cart to its drop-off when an old lady backed out into the cart you were standing on.

It tilted back and you saved yourself from landing face-first on the asphalt at the expense of your right arm. It hurt like a bitch and you had to wear a cast for about a month before your arm healed up enough to do much more.

“You were so worried.” You teased, braiding his yellow hair between your fingers. He lifted his head to look up at you, a pout on his lips. 

“I thought you died too!” Kaminari cooed, pressing a kiss to your knee as he turned back around to let you continue playing with his hair.

“You’re an idiot.” Bakugou mumbled. Kirishima sat beside you, along with Sero, who also had face masks on. They begged to be included in the self-care session and were happily enjoying themselves listening to all your stories.

“So final jam’s coming up.” Kaminari blurted.

“What?!” You laughed, confused at his words.

“T-The final jam?” Kaminari turned back around to stare at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Are you referring to our anniversary as the final jam?” You glared at the yellow-blonde.

“I’m sorry! I had to.” Kaminari stood up and grabbed your hand, yanking you off of the couch.

“That’s right, you’ve been together for a while now huh?” Sero mentioned, glancing over at Bakugou who seemed to be interested in the idea of Kaminari holding a relationship longer than a week.

“One whole year.” Kaminari stared at you with adoration in his eyes, and you were worried if he stared any harder his eyes would pop out. Your face was hot at his words. 

You felt all giddy and warm inside. You really did love Kaminari, and getting to this point felt so amazing, so refreshing. 

“That’s awesome! Congrats!” Kirishima was quick to congratulate you both on the seemingly wild accomplishment.

Later during the night, after washing off the face mask and finishing up your routine, you walked back to your dorm with Kaminari.

“I really couldn’t be more excited for our anniversary.” Kaminari’s hands rested in yours as he pulled you in for a hug.

“I know, I’m excited too. You gonna take me out on a big date?” You tease, hugging him.

“I’m broke!” Kaminari whines, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

“I’m kidding. I just wanna spend the day with you, playing video games and-”

“Cuddling.” Kaminari offers, his eyes sparkling.

“Cuddling.” You agree, leaning in, pressing your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s meaningful, and tender, and passionate. It holds just enough emotion to convey how warm you feel inside. It’s electrifying, pun intended.

“I love you, sweet dreams.” Kaminari whispers as you begin to open your dorm door. You smile and wave.

“I love you too, goodnight.” You reply, closing the door after he leaves.

That night you tuck yourself into bed, happier than usual. You’re almost too excited to even sleep. But eventually, your dreams call you and you’re drifting away before you can even realize it.

The day of your anniversary, you’re a giddy mess. Kaminari and you are practically in each other’s arms the entire morning, hoping that you aren’t being that annoying couple. You’re keeping the PDA down to simple hand-holding even though you’d much rather embrace him and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe.

But you had classes. The mushy-gushy stuff could wait till later. When Aizawa couldn’t yell at you.

During the day, Kaminari and you both ended up surprising one another with little gifts, tiny trinkets just to show that you were thinking of each other. Kaminari of course bought you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, whereas you managed to snag a pretty rose for him and a new game for his console.

He was over the moon about the rose and claimed he was going to cherish it forever. It was so sweet.

That was until lunch rolled around.

“There the love birds are!” Mina cheered as you and Kaminari sat down at the table. Almost the entire class was aware of what was today, and a few peers congratulated you on being together for one year.

“Hush!” Your face burned with embarrassment as you nuzzled into Kaminari’s shoulder, swatting away at your pink-haired friend.

“You guys are so cute!” She teased, taking another bite of her lunch.

Lunch was abruptly interrupted when Kaminari said he had to go somewhere. You were a bit surprised by his exclamation but you said goodbye as he left.

“What’s with that?” You asked, a defeated sigh coming from your lips.

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s got another gift for you.” Mina nudged your side. You shook your head and covered your face.

“Please! I can’t take any more gifts from him, I just wanna spend quality time with him and do stupid lovey-dovey couple’s crap.” You groan.

Kaminari was racing toward the AV room where he had agreed to meet another student for something he had commissioned for you. It was a delicate glass frame with a picture of you and him embossed into it.

Of course by the time he arrived, he was running late. He blamed you for being so captivating, of course though, it wasn’t an issue that he was late, the student was there, happy as could be to have been commissioned for a project.

And the result was beautiful. It was truly wonderful, and Kaminari was almost in tears at how delicate and amazing it looked. Kaminari had already paid the student when he brought up the idea, and now he was finally here to get it.

It was wrapped in a beautiful box, carefully surrounded with bio-degradable filler to prevent it from breaking. 

“Thank you so much for doing this, it’s so important to me.” Kaminari placed the box down on the table in the AV room, unaware that he’d set it down on the button that turned on the intercom for student news, etc.

Kaminari had set it down because he was afraid he’d drop it on a whim somehow.

“They’re just so important to me, I can’t explain it. They’re the one, ya know?” Kaminari’s voice rang throughout the intercom system.

Your ears perked up, your face begging to sear with heat. 

“I think I’ve always loved (Y/n). When we met I could just feel the world stop and all I could see was them. And from there I knew, I wanted to spend every waking moment with them.” Kaminari was completely unaware that his words were now being heard throughout the entire school building.

“Oh my god.” Kirishima looked at you. Everyone that knew you, was staring at you. You couldn’t help but feel touched. You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, happy tears.

“I live to see them smile, and their laugh? It’s music to my ears. I’m so in love with them. I’d spend a million years of my life with them, today marks one.” Kaminari’s words were cut short by a teacher barging through the door. Quickly turning to see the commotion, Kaminari was confused when the teacher started yelling about using the intercom for personal reasons.

That’s when Kaminari’s eyes shot down to where he’d sat the box, and now noticed the blinking red light that confirmed the intercom was actively broadcasting.

Blush spread like fire across his face and ears, as he quickly grabbed the box and stormed back to the cafeteria where you were still eating lunch.

Barging in, you lifted your head, smiling like an idiot as he ran toward you.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that I- It was true, all of it, but I didn’t mean to embarrass you or or-”

Your lips on his shut him up as your rested your hands on his shoulders, completely silencing him. His hands held onto the box in front of him, his lips moving together against yours.

A few cheers and ‘woos’ came from fellow students but you couldn’t hear them. You were completely capsulated by Kaminari and the electric love blossoming between the two of you.

Pulling away in a haze, all you could see was him.

“I love you so much.” You smiled.

Later, after a decent scolding from Aizawa and another teacher, you were let go and finally allowed to go to your dorm.

Placing the delicate glass picture up on your shelf you then pulled Kaminari onto your bed, nuzzling into his side.

“This is what I was waiting for.” Kaminari cuddled into you, wrapping around you like a sloth as you laid on his stomach doing the same.

“This is an average Tuesday for us.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Well, I like my average Tuesdays with you, dummy.” Kaminari smiled, clicking on your tv to watch something as you cuddled.

The anniversary was a success. And who cared if nearly the whole school knew about how strongly you felt for one another. You were happy, Kaminari was happy, and you couldn’t wait to spend more time with him.

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masterlist

[7spaceace7]

Secrets (A Donatello x Reader)

This is incredibly self-indulgent and was really just a fic for me to obsess over tesla coils, but my girlfriend convinced me to post it- so here it is! It got kind of long too, but I hope you enjoy! 

Word Count: 3236

Reader is given feminine terms in this one

Mild cursing (thank you Raph)

Absolute fluff attack, the sweetness will rot your teeth

Singing was your greatest passion. From a young age, you had been roped into music, the emotions it could represent with just a few notes and some relatable lyrics. It was happiness, it was sadness, it was anger and excitement, and it was everything you couldn’t express well enough with just words. Being a writer, sometimes that would get frustrating, but music helped you overcome the most challenging spots in a new piece or story. This is why you would constantly have earbuds in as you sang along to every song you’d memorized on your Spotify shuffle. 

And Donnie noticed this. Every time you would enter the turtles’ lair, he would see you unplug and pack-up your headphones. Hell, he was even able to detect your singing from the sounds of the sewer tunnels echoing with every step you took closer. He’d hear you talk about the music or soundtracks of your favorite games and movies, analyzing what every slight twinge or reprise would allude to. And he loved every part of it. He loved getting to see those moments where music was all you could focus on. Your heart rate rose exponentially in anticipation and excitement. Your eyes would screw shut while you broke into a grin. Your hands would mimic motions to the beat as you played on invisible drums, or strummed a nonexistent guitar. 

It was adorable to him, to say the least. But he never told you so. He never said a word, in case this might scare you off for coming across as “creepy” or weird. He knew most people probably didn’t pay this close attention to little things like that, but then again, he also knew that most people weren’t madly in love with you. 

Which Donatello was. 

He couldn’t tell you, because once he started rambling about you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. And if he didn’t stop, then he’d run the 89.07% chance risk of telling you how he’d been in love with you since the day they met you. That was way too high for him to be comfortable. No, he couldn’t tell you, no matter how badly he wanted you to know.

“Okay, so what if you just show ‘er you’re interested instead?” Raph asked, half paying attention to his brother’s predicament, half pounding the punching bag before him into the ground. Leo was in the dojo meditating, and Mikey was playing video games in the living room, which left the two middle brothers to their own devices. For Donnie, this was literally. His three-fingered hands fiddled with his latest electrical circuit. It was bound for sending the right amount of voltage into his inventions without needing four power strips and a generator all on their own. Unfortunately, he was too distracted to actually delve into its components, and settled for breaking and piecing it back together again.

“Show her? How would I do that?” Donnie’s voice trembled at the thought.

“I dunno, you’re the genius here,” Raph huffed, “There’s gotta be somethin’ in this place that you think she’d find cool. She loves music, right?”

“Yeah, like a lot, she even-”

“Rhetorical question, Don, heard the rant plenty,” His brother cut him off. Pausing his violent onslaught of the dummy, he turned to face him. “You’re nervous ‘cause you ain’t ever done somethin’ for a pretty girl before, I get it. So do somethin’ you know you’re good at. That’ll take the nerves off, your plan works, and then I won’ have to listen to you babbling about whatever new fuckin’ thing she did today. Win win.”

The younger turtle paused. “That was...actually pretty sound advice, thank you, Raph.”

“Anytime,” Raph nodded, a smug smile tugging at his lips from being able to help. Problem was, now he was invested. He’d listened to his brother’s rants and rambles and failed plans of possibly confessing for weeks now, what was gonna happen once he finally did it? Raph plopped onto one of Donnie’s bean bag chairs. He didn’t bother to pick up the training dummy. “So what ya gonna do, smart guy?”

Donnie blinked a few times, glasses twitching on his nose as he pushed them up. He didn’t know it, but you coined this his “brainstorming face”. He fiddled with the circuits once again.

“Uh...I’m not sure,” His tongue went dry. A million ideas fly through his brain each minute, and this decides to be the time that he can’t think of a single one good enough. Figures. “I could build her something? Maybe a new stereo, or upgrade the one she has.”

Raph made a noise of disapproval. “You can do better, any old fix-it guy could do that.”

“Fair. Maybe I could- ow!”

A short buzz of the air cut him off as his fiddling paid off. To the world’s great irony, a light bulb several inches away lit up.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I…” Donnie trailed off. The purple-clad turtle’s eyes widened as he registered what happened. “I’m better than good, I just had an epiphany!”

“Epipha-what?”

“An epiphany, sudden realization, an idea!” Donnie flicked his goggles back down, enhancing his vision with the magnifier on it. Wires were tugged in and out, and a transmitter was displaced. With a snort of triumph, he raised it to the air for his brother to see. “This is the answer!” 

“A tiny board thing. Just what she’s always wanted,” Raph rolled his eyes, but Donnie was prepared for this.

“Not just a tiny board, a tiny board with this!-” With great haste, Donnie was next to Raph, holding the board out properly. “My side-side project, this little thing, look at the coil here, this is it! This is a tesla coil, capable of transmitting thousands and thousands of volts of energy surging through the air, powering anything within its radius, which is perfect and exactly why I needed to reconfigure it to power my lab and this one new machine I’m working on, but that’s not why this is the perfect idea!”

“Wow, please continue, professor, I’m dyin’ to know.”

“Glad you asked! Watch this!” One aux cord, T-Phone connection, and light-dimming later, the lab went dark in anticipation. And suddenly, with the press of a play button on Donnie’s shuffle, music started to fill the air. But it wasn’t coming from his phone. It was coming from the coils, surging and creating not only electric energy that was visible to the human eye as it sparked, but music. Sound. The beats and notes of the song playing sprouted out in the form of electricity.

Raph’s green eyes became transfixed on the sparks flying out. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right!” Came the squeals of utter nerding out, “This is only a tabletop version of an SGTC circuit, my own type of it anyway based on Tesla’s original designs, but if I reworked it, made it bigger, made it lifelike and maybe four or five of them, I could create the most advanced musical performance this city has ever seen!”

“I’m gonna pretend I know everything you just said because clearly this is your nerd thing,” Raph started, utterly confused. Even still, a reassuring smile framed his features. “But this looks pretty damn cool. This right here? Exactly what ‘m sayin’, Don.  This is you.”

“Do you think she’ll like it...?” Donnie asked in a hopeful voice. He wasn’t just asking about the invention. 

“Course she will.”

~x~

A couple weeks had passed since that fateful conversation with Raph. He’d been in and out of the lab since then, but between patrols and the mandatory bathroom breaks, there was hardly a time he wasn’t working on his great new project. You weren’t even allowed to go into the lab, per his request, for all his time there.

However, he always made sure to make at least one movie whenever you’d come hang out at the lair from work.

Finally, one Friday night, the set up was complete. Pride swelled in Donnie’s chest as he looked at his creation: six symmetrically placed tesla coils sprung up from the ground and walls all around his lab space. The coilings wrapped around metal frames, spiraling into a beautiful arrangement of engineering, if he did say so himself. Mikey said it looked like the lasers out of a DC comic, which was also not a bad thing to be. He just hoped that you would like it. All of it was for you, of course, but over the weeks that he’d been preparing it, he found more beauty in the music of tesla coils than he ever had appreciated before. 

Donnie thought he might thank you for that, if he could get his nerves around it.

God, he was so nervous. Anxiety rushed through his body like the electric pulses he was perfecting. They were already done, but it was all he could do to distract himself while waiting for you to arrive. Maybe the frequencies weren’t in the right key. What if they sounded better this way? Or maybe the firing power wasn’t enough? Trajectory looked alright, maybe it just-

“Donnie?”

“Gh! Y/N, hey!” Stammered the surprised terrapin after knocking his head against the top of a coil. His goggles were on the setting of night-vision, but that didn’t account for night-spatial-awareness, it seemed.

“I got your text to come,” You tried to smile at him, but the dark laboratory proved to make that difficult. “How come it’s so dark in here?”

“Uh, well, that’s p-part of the surprise! Eheh. Gimme just a second-”

You waited patiently outside of his lab, vision still applicable, but grew concerned the more strange noises and clangs you heard coming from inside. This was definitely a whole new level of “Donnie Surprises” just by how nervous he seemed about it.

You yelped when his hand grabbed your arm and dragged you back inside the darkness.

“Okay, uh,” He started, before clapping his hands together for the lights to switch back on, “This is what I wanted to show you.”

Your gaze spun all around the lab. After adjusting to the light, you could clearly see giant mechanism after mechanism placed strategically around in a dome-like setup. Coils that protruded like round-edged spikes circled you both, and in the center was a metal cage. 

“Oh my god…” You almost whispered. A large grin broke out onto your face as you stared in quiet marvel at the scene. His plan was working, and Donnie lit up with an outstretched arm in presentation.

“These bad boys are called tesla coils-”

“Tesla coils!” You squealed in imperfect unison to what you assumed was the start of an explanation. “You made tesla coils, Donnie, holy shit!”

“You’ve heard of them?!” Donnie exclaimed, eyes widening behind his glasses.

“YES!” Your hands began to wave around excitedly, “Oh my god I used to be OBSESSED with these things! I heard about when I was a kid from that old movie, oh what was it, it was like the apprentice’s-”

“Sorcerer’s Apprentice!”

“THAT! Yes!” 

“I haven’t seen that movie in years!”

“Me neither! All I remember is that Hiccup’s voice actor totally nerded out and programmed his giant tesla coils to play music for the girl he wanted to impress, and it was the coolest thing because these giant machines were playing music, music out of nothing but sparks of electricity at different frequencies, which to be honest probably would have caused more of an energy problem than the movie suggested because goddamn do they take up a lot of power, but I was like six and didn’t care!” You laughed  in an energetic burst of word association, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Donnie could have kissed you then and there for that alone. 

A grin crept onto his lips as he watched you ramble on about the movie, leaving all anxious thoughts to fall from his mind. For once, someone actually understood one of his passions. Better than that, she was explaining the process to him of all people! Sure, she was intuitive enough to know he didn’t need it, he literally had just built them after all. This was just out of pure excitement. Someone in his life was talking about science and technology like they were the most fascinating things on the planet, just as the purple-masked turtle believed it was. Well, second only to the ecstatic girl in front of him. 

“-And so, I randomly remembered it again not that long ago, so I looked it up and found so many videos on YouTube about it. I kid you not, I listened to tesla coils and tesla coils alone for a solid week.” 

You breathed heavily, a little winded after such an intense info-dump. God, he always loved when you got excited about something. 

“This is kind of surreal,” Donnie chuckled a bit, pushing up his glasses when they tumbled down his nose, “I had no idea you’d get what these were, much less have known so much about them.” Donnie’s eyes widened at his own panicked-fueled blabbering. “N-Not that I think you’re stupid! I just-- I mean it’s not-- common? It’s more of-”

“A niche interest, yeah. No worries,” You finished for him, signaling his stuttered words hadn’t fallen on offended ears. Donnie quietly sighed in relief. Time ticked by in seconds, but even that was much too fast for this martial artist to grasp. If he could have constructed a device to pause the fabrics of time, he would have long ago, simply to relish the moments with you that meant everything to him. It wasn’t your fault your eyes captivated him more than any element he’s worked with.

“So,” You began eagerly, startling him out of his thoughts, “Are we gonna listen to some zappy poles go brrr or what?”

Donnie snorted at your juvenile word choice. “Yeah, totally. Now, ah,” He walked over toward the large cage in the center, stepped inside, then poked his head out with a dorky grin. A large, green hand stood outstretched towards you. “I think you’d better step inside my cage.”

“If you keep quoting the damn movie like this, I am going to explode from excitement, and it will be your fault!” It was a wonder how you hadn’t caught onto his plan yet, honestly. You made no sense of hesitation before grabbing his offered hand (even though your hands were small enough that they hardly matched his palm’s size), and clambered into the cage in front of him. This was a great excuse for you to be close to him without it being weird. And now, with your back brushing up against his plastron, the butterflies in his chest told him it was totally a good call.

Donatello would take this secret to his grave, however.

“Put your hands on the rail here, yep just like that,” Donnie nodded after your hands found the safeguard rail. A couple buttons tapped into a laptop later, he settled his own hands next to yours. “Let the magic begin.”

Magic would have been the understatement of the year. A coil in front of you quickly shot out its first spark. Familiar music breached the sound barrier to your ears. The one behind you both caught it instantly. Spark after spark sent back and forth between the coils, soaring through the lab like the most incredible game of electric catch.

“Whoa!” You laughed when the sparks would bounce off the cage itself, pressing closer to the turtle behind you (much to his surprise every time). Your shining e/c eyes never left the electric bolts shooting out. “This is insane!”

“Heh, glad you like it!” Donnie watched you closely that entire time, more entranced by your excitement and wonderstruck self than anything he’d created. He could power up the tesla coils anytime of day, but this was a special moment he’d never be able to recreate in a controlled environment. This was no experiment, this was real and it was happening right now. 

The only thing left to do was tell you how he felt. 

“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” He began, stepping away to give you a bit of space. His heart rate was increasing by the second. The way you turned to look at him wasn’t helping, either. 

“What is it?” You spoke softly, somehow able to be heard over the music. Donnie could hardly meet your eyes, so he took your hands in his instead.

“I...I don’t know how to say this exactly,” He started, “I’ve been trying to do it for months, going over every possible conjuncture of words, something that would be heartfelt and honest, poetic even? But the truth is, words aren’t my thing, th-they never have been. I’m a science guy, I take things apart and put them back together again, I figure out what makes them work, I see life as a million tiny parts to analyze.”

He paused his quickened speech to take a breath. Your hands squeezed his larger ones as an offer to continue.

“And so, I’m...bad at feelings. I see it all as chemicals and components used by the brain to create action and reaction. But now I’m not so sure if that’s all they are, and really the only thing I am sure about is that it’s because of you that I’m questioning everything I ever thought I knew. Maybe, maybe life is more than atoms and chemicals, and instead it’s about..moments. Moments like this. Moments that...that I..that I really want to keep forever and play over and over again.”

“Donnie…” You spoke. This time he squeezed your hands.

“I know I’m rambling and I should really get to the point, so what I’m trying to say is,” He took another breath, steady this time. His gaze met yours again. “I want to live these moments with you every day. You’re special to me. You’re part of our family, but this is more than that, this feeling is-”

“Love.” You finished for him. Both of your eyes widened as you realized the other felt how you each did.  

Donatello nodded slowly, hesitant to be so certain, but knowing it was true. There were no more words to be exchanged after that, only actions, only movements so soft and gentle that the large terrapin was certain he’d break if they could fit in his hands. Your hands left his and instead reached up to grab the long ends of his mask, and tugged gently for him to reach you. He leaned down without a thought. A three-fingered hand found your waist this time. 

You kissed. Soft, human lips connected to his slightly chapped reptilian ones. The turtle had waited for this moment since he realized the attraction he felt towards you was not just powerful chemical reactions, but true feelings. It wasn’t biology, it was chance and fate and one-in-a-million all at once. As the sparks continued to (literally) fly, Donnie let his eyes close. This was the present. He was here, he was holding a great new adventure in his hands, and there was a brilliant future just around the corner. 

The song may have finished, but this is what would last forever. 

[spencers-renaissance]

I told the stars about you

Summary: Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it.

Tags: first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Companion Piece/Prequel to my heart talks about nothing but you

The cafe is warm and vibrant when they walk in together a little after seven in the evening. Derek had taken Spencer’s hand as soon as they left his apartment, and the warmth of his palm had shot up his arm as soon as they’d made contact. Spencer knows it’s simply his physical attraction to the other man talking, but it felt like something magical, like fate telling him his fingers were always destined to be intertwined with Derek’s.

“Are you sure you’re okay with coming here instead of a restaurant?” Derek asks, not for the first time this evening, as they weave between the tables, choosing one reasonably close to the gig stage where a band is setting up.

“Of course,” Spencer assures him again, taking his seat. “The chairs are far more comfortable here than they would be in a restaurant, so that’s one bonus.”

Derek laughs fondly at that. They’re not quite comfortable with one another yet, the inherent awkwardness of first dates crackling in the air around them as they sneak heated glances over at one another, but Spencer’s just happy to have Derek in his company. He’s spent almost two years pining for the older man, he could hardly believe it when he’d finally been asked out on a date.

“What would you like, pretty boy? I’ll go up to the counter and order.” Derek smiles over at him and his focused attention feels like it’s branding itself on Spencer’s soul.

“Uh— a pesto panini and a mocha?”

“Not a black coffee with six sugars and caramel syrup?” Derek quirks a brow. “We’re branching out. I like it.”

Spencer can’t help the light blush that settles on his cheekbones. Derek’s had that effect on him since the first day they met, and he’s not about to start feeling embarrassed by his body’s response to him now, so he just looks down for a moment before resuming eye contact. “Shut up,” he murmurs teasingly. “Go and order the food.”

Ever since Derek had picked him up, his stomach has been swimming, head dizzy with the heady anticipation of a date with the man he’s been crushing on since he joined the bureau, and he takes the small reprieve of Derek’s absence to breathe deeply. He can do this, he promises himself. He deserves love, he deserves Derek, and he’s going to have a lovely evening, damn his anxieties.

When Derek returns a few moments later with his order, he doesn’t waste a minute tucking in. If they’re not going out for dinner, he’s at least going to enjoy all the snacks he can milk out of this date.

“What prompted the mocha adventure?” Derek asks curiously as he picks at his own panini, his filled with bacon and mozzarella.

“I like mochas,” he laughs, holding his hands up defensively. “I just usually go for a more caffeine heavy option on days when I have to solve time sensitive murder investigations, often on very little sleep.”

“That makes sense.”

“Anyway, what made you take me to this cafe?”

They chat idly and comfortably for over an hour to the backdrop of the happy hum of the other patrons and the cheerful music of the cover band, and it’s nice to have such uninhibited time with one another. Time outside of work is usually shared with others on the team, and one-on-one conversation is sort of a foreign concept in a group of seven people all familiar with one another, and all craving catch-ups and conversation with each and every member. Spencer can feel his insides slowly melting into a nice puddle of mush as Derek talks about his current renovation projects and his dream house he’ll build one day, before asking him about his latest documentaries and books, allowing him to ramble to his heart's content.

The feeling of validation that hums through his chest as Derek listens and asks questions and talks about all these intimate facts about himself Spencer was none the wiser too despite already being so familiar with him is euphoric. God, he’s going to fall in love with Derek so quickly. That’s if he’s not there already.

The band takes a quick pause after singing Elvis Presley’s Jailhouse Rock before starting the next song, playing the opening chords to a melody Spencer recognises as Frank Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight. It’s always been one of his favourite songs. He’s not really a musical person, but old classics had been a keen interest of his mother’s and they always bring back good memories. He used to play them at college to remind himself of her.

“Let’s dance,” Derek says suddenly, as though he’s read Spencer’s mind. A slow grin spreads across his lips, and it would have distracted him if he wasn’t so caught-off guard by his insistence: it’s a late night cafe, not a club, there’s not even a dance floor.

“What?”

“No, come on,” Derek continues enthusiastically. “I want to dance to Frank Sinatra with you, Dr Spencer Reid, right here, right now.”

“Derek, everyone will stare at us,” Spencer giggles, but he can already feel himself being persuaded.

“As they should.” Derek waggles his eyebrows as he stands up, pulling gently on Spencer’s hands to try and get him to stand up.

It works, and before the first verse is even over, Derek has him on his feet, dancing in a terribly embarrassing, uncoordinated fashion, but Spencer doesn’t care. The feeling of Derek’s big hands dwarfing Spencer’s small waist is addictive, and he moves his body in a way that feels right, no matter how ridiculous he might look. Derek twirls him around and moves them around the small space they have by their table with an adoring expression on his face, one that goes straight to Spencer’s heart, warming him from the inside out.

They sway together as they sing along quietly to one another, ignoring their horrible voices and inability to carry a melody, and it hits Spencer that this isn’t really first date behaviour. He feels like he’s been with Derek for years, like this one dance has transcended all the awkward adjustment of a new relationship, propelling them years into the future. The collapse into fits of laughter as the song comes to an end, the ridiculousness of the emotions swelling in their hearts and dancing in a coffee shop to a mediocre cover band, but they’re completely wrapped up in one another.

“Alright,” the lead singer of the band cheers as the last chord is played and held, “credits to our dance troupe over there. Y’all have something real special.”

They snap out of their trance and Spencer looks sheepishly at the clapping patrons of the cafe, most of them wearing fond smiles on their faces. Derek bows comically, sending Spencer back into a peal of laughter, but they calm down quickly and retake their seats as the band transitions into their final song.

“That’s the most fun I think I’ve ever had,” Spencer grins, feeling like he’s on a high as he takes in the man across from him, trying to wrap his head around what just happened and how Derek feels about him. His emotions are written across his expressive face and it winds Spencer to see someone look at him like that.

“Baby, just you wait for date number two.” Derek grins cheekily as he reaches across the table for Spencer’s hand. “Let’s get going. I want to buy you an ice cream, pretty boy.”

“I like strawberry best,” Spencer says, a little shy but feeling safe and protected under Derek’s warm gaze, his arm snaking around his waist.

“And I like you enough to forgive you for such a crime,” Derek chuckles, shaking his head as he guides him to the door of the cafe. “Having any other flavour than mint chocolate chip as your favourite is simply unacceptable.”

“Well, you accept it when it comes to me.” Spencer’s preening under the adoration from his date, and he can’t even be bothered to hide how pleased he feels. He’d wondered for so long how it must feel to be Derek Morgan’s partner, to be subject to his flirting, his intense gaze, his love, and it feels better than he ever could have imagined.

“That’s because you’re special, baby,” Derek whispers in his ear, and Spencer shivers. It has nothing to do with the cool November breeze.

Derek is true to his word and buys him a strawberry ice cream cone, not saying another word about it as he makes his way through his, a scoop of mint choc chip in a bowl. He’d insisted at the counter that cones are disgusting and nobody should be subjected to them, and Spencer had only laughed fondly and kissed him on the cheek. “Spencer, I’m so damn happy you went out with me this evening,” Derek says once they’ve finished their treats, voice earnest and eyes sincere. Spencer’s sat next to him in a booth in the parlour, tucked up against Derek’s side with his head on his shoulder.

He lifts it to look him in the eye, trying to convey the same amount of sincerity right back at him. “I’ve wanted this date for a long time. The first time I realised it was during the case in Alaska, do you remember? When we had to share rooms? You said ‘I’m not sleeping with Reid’ and my first thought was no, but I wish you were. My second thought was that that was kind of an asshole thing to say.” He nudges Derek in the ribs with his elbow to convey his jest, giggling quietly as Derek grins back.

“That was an asshole thing to say,” he concedes. “To be honest, the reason I didn’t want to share a room with you is that I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. In a small bedroom, possibly sharing a bed, cosied up for a night… I was going to break and confess my feelings, so I deflected.”

“You realised before me,” Spencer muses, he hadn’t expected that. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“We are indeed, pretty boy,” Derek sighs, tugging Spencer closer with the hand glued to his waist, “and I never want to leave.”

Of course, they have to eventually, leaving the ice cream parlour and heading back towards their apartments. There’s a little rain in the air, and the wind is crisp and cold, so they huddle close together as they walk the streets, silently agreeing not to get a cab despite the nasty weather just to spend a little more time together. But their walk comes to an end, and Derek drops Spencer off at his apartment first, insisting on walking him all the way to his front door.

“Spencer Reid, you have no idea how much I enjoyed this date,” he murmurs, standing close enough to raise Spencer’s heart rate noticeably, his breath hitching as he takes in the intense expression on Derek’s face.

“I bet I enjoyed it more,” he breathes, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying really, because all he’s focusing on is how close Derek’s lips are to his, and before he can talk himself out of it, he closes the distance and kisses him. His stomach flip flops immediately at the sensation, the feeling of one of Derek’s hands wrapping around his waist and spanning his lower back while the other comes to his jawline, holding him securely as he kisses back.

“That was,” Derek whispers as they pull apart just barely, “and I am not exaggerating, the best kiss of my life.”

Spencer believes him, his deep brown eyes promising him nothing but the truth, and his heart pounds in his chest, pulse beating loudly in his ears as he tries to catch his breath. “Me too.” It’s all he can think of to say, and it’s completely true, as well — not that there’s much competition. “Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for date number two.”

“Baby, I’ll go for breakfast in the morning with you if that’s what you want,” Derek says, and everything about him screams that he’d give Spencer the world.

“That’s what I want,” he replies quickly. He doesn’t want the world, he just wants Derek. And breakfast. He wants Derek eating breakfast with him in a downtown diner tomorrow morning, and he wants as many breathtaking kisses as he’s willing to give.

“Then I will pick you up at 8.30.” He leans in to press one last gentle kiss to Spencer’s lips, lingering a second too long before reluctantly pulling away. “See you in the morning, my prettiest boy.”

taglist: @strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @drinkingcroissants

[angsty-omi]

PART 2 OF UNLOCKED EMOTIONS

part 1

ushijima wakatoshi x fem!reader

lowercase intended

warnings: anxiety, cheating, cursing, some semi nsfw scenes and most importantly, pure angst.

it started out simple. toshi would make a plan to go somewhere, and rin would tag a long. she is his girlfriend after all. but you soon started to notice that she was always there. even when your families would have dinner with each other. at some point, you couldn’t take it.

there was this one night where you didn’t even wanna go downstairs because you knew they were there. sitting in your dining chairs, using your silverware, probably making out in the bathroom. you slammed your head on the bed trying to get that image out of your head. stop it y/n. you made an excuse that you were ill, which technically you were lovesick.

it wasn’t surprising that soon you and toshi faded as friends. you needed space even then, your feelings didn’t change at all. instead it was even passionate than before. before, you never felt a sense of urgency in telling him. but now you wanted him more than ever. you needed him. seeing him walking down the halls with her. hand in hand, walking down the hallway and past your locker. your chest was tight. she would stick her tongue out at you, and ushijima never noticed. “what a child,” you thought to yourself. but you couldn’t say anything, she was just trying to gaslight you so you could scream at her and ushijima would have to choose between the two of you.

continuous weeks of her microagressions at you, you learned to let that not bother you. rin noticed and had to up the ante.

during 5th period, you started feeling very anxious out of nowhere. you could feel a pair of eyes laser into you. you had asked permission to go to the restroom and the teacher gave you the hall pass. you immediately rushed to the sink scrubbing your face. repeatedly rinsing.

you looked up to your side and saw her. rin. this startled you. “do you need something?” you asked nicely, secretly about to have a meltdown.

to be quite frank, your meltdowns were rough. it was a period of time where you felt no remorse for anything. no one really knew about this condition, except for your family. it’s not worth mentioning because they’ll think you’re a psychopath and it doesn’t happen quite frequently. it’s only when you’re a ticking bomb, under lots of pressure. like.. like.. right now?

you could feel the symptoms coming and so was rin, she started to come closer to your face.

“y/n, you think i’m an idiot don’t you? you don’t think i see the way you look at him?.” now she was only a few inches away, “god you’re pathetic, you can’t even deny my accusations. you’re in love with someone who’s taken, you fucking whore. you. cant. have. him... it’s truly sad y/n, you even had a head start. all that time was wasted, and all i had to do was to just be in his presence for a day and he fell for me.” she giggled. her high pitched giggle was ringing in your ears.

“stop,” you thought, “please just make it stop.” you’d do anything. meltdown y/n was just not someone to be reckoned with. it’s not a threat, it’s the truth. not five seconds later, your clenched fist met with her eurocentric face. then you were on top of her, not even thinking just doing. just your fists continuously smashing her petite porcelain face. until there was a whole crowd, the teachers finally were aware of the situation.

soon there was an administrator holding you back. angry tears flooding your eyes. you wanted more revenge. hearing her whimpers, you smiled. this. this made you happy. then you were shut back down when you heard someone calming her down. you looked up and saw ushijima. your eyes met. his with much fury, and yours with much sorrow. “how could you do this, y/n? from now on, just leave us alone. don’t even acknowledge me. don’t look our way. don’t even breathe the same air as us.” he threatened with such a serious tone.

the whole reason you hated your meltdowns were not just the no remorse thing, but how after it is finished, the guilt hit you like a truck. leaving you in a serious depressive state. and you were suspended for two weeks. great.

you were trapped in your bedroom. after you got home from that day, your parents immediately grounded you, and took your phone. no contact with the outside world. no contact with ushijima. not like it mattered anyway. sometimes you would think to yourself if he ever thought about you like that. that if he imagined about you the same way you imagined about him. or if he ever wished that it was you next to him down the hallways. being alone with your thoughts was not fun. with no phone to distract you, or school, it was terrifying. every waking moment was lonesome.

it had only been five miserable days.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you needed a breather, and needed it now. you begged your mom to let you go on a walk, and she gave you the thumbs up. you decided to go to the nearest park.

there were very fond memories of you and ushijima together. the latest one was when they won nationals last year, and you guys celebrated on the swings, with a shot of grocery store rated tequila. very disgusting.

the park was empty. most people would find a playground depressing with no kids. but that’s how you liked it. quiet, but it’s purpose and physical attributes brought joy to people’s face. you decided to take a seat on the swings. dragging your legs back and forth, back and forth. dazed and honestly so mentally tired. you slowly started to doze off.

footsteps. you heard footsteps.

still with your eyes closed, “if i die then i die, i’m too lazy to budge,” you thought to yourself. the footsteps were getting louder. and then you hear a bunch of chains moving next to you.

“killer chains?” you thought. this bitch

no. you were wrong. those were swing chains. someone had sat next to you. still keeping your eyes shut, hoping that the stranger would just leave.

until you heard his voice,

“y/n, why did you do that to rin? how could you hurt her when you know how important she is to me? she told me that you liked me. for years. why didn’t you tell me?”

“why was he talking to me? breathing the same air as me? and also, would that have made a difference if i told you?” you thought.

“i’d be lying if i said i never had feelings for you, but, god y/n i’m dating someone now. i am a faithful man. and you know, if you weren’t just so prideful, and just told me.. maybe things would’ve been different,” he continues, still thinking that you’re sleeping.

your mom called everyone looking for you. obviously you didn’t have your phone and you still weren’t back from your supposed walk. ushijimas parents forced him to go look for you. he, previously, being your best friend knew the top three spots you’d be at.

“but they’re not,” your voice whispered with an icy tone. it was like bitter in your mouth.

his eyes widened like he just saw a ghost. he didn’t want to hear your answer. he wasn’t ready. but it was too late, it was already rolling. “and what do you mean if i wasn’t so prideful? i didn’t tell you because i was looking out for your FUTURE. volleyball is your main priority and you said you wanted to be the best. so tell me why, as your best friend, would i jeopardize that?” you slight raised your voice.

ushijima frowned, “are you seriously telling me what I want? emphasis on the I? do you think you know me or something y/n? who are you to be put into a position where you can decided what or who i want?” raising his voice even louder. “the fact that you would just assume that... bothers me, how you already planned my future... bothers me, how you always try to pry me open... bothers me, WE AREN’T EVEN DATING.” he noted.

you were mortified. “how could you even say that? sorry that i wanted you to feel? instead of being a huge cold hearted douche. i’ve only ever had good intentions and now you’re better with emotions. you even got yourself a girlfriend, ushijima.” you defend, tears swelling up in your eyes.

“oh, so i go by ushijima now? how petty can you seriously be y/n? face the facts i got a girlfriend, and you dropped me like i was nothing,” he snarled.

“what an idiot. can’t he see that it was the complete opposite” you screamed on the inside.

you took a deep inhale, “drop you like you were nothing? are you fucking serious? I WAS FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU, and listen, i did this for myself. seeing you with HER, everyday killed me. i deadass felt like my heart was smashed and stomped on. and it didn’t help that she was always flaunting your guys’ relationship around me. that’s why i stopped... right now, i can’t even look at you, because if i did, i would fall right back into that pit. all this pain, brought because i was in lo—” you got cut off.

by something warm. and it tasted like peppermint. it was soft, but the pressure put on it seemed rough. you were kissing ushiji-toshi. you, y/n, were kissing toshi. his large hand gripped your cheek, wiping the tears off your face with his thumb. the kiss was very passionate, like it was something you both craved, but fiery, because you guys were still angry at each other. continuously fighting for dominance, and he beat you. his tongue slipped in. you unexpectedly moaned into the kiss and it was music to his ears. how bittersweet that was, you felt embarassed. he never heard you like that. so desperate. and so needy. he trickled down to your jawline then to your neck. you tugged on his hair out of instinct, and could feel his mouth vibrate against your neck. it was intoxicating for both parties.

he pulled away, and you stayed there frozen.

he then, put his thumb on your lips, and whispered in your ear, “don’t ever say that you loved me, like it was past tense,” before moving back to his side of the swing.

you just kissed your best friend, who had a girlfriend. and no matter how much of a bitch she was, you still felt guilty nonetheless. you guys sat there in silence, still trying to process what just happened. you smiled while looking at the slides. you just couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. you remembered about your parents and how they’re probably worried, and so you got up from the swing and opened your hand out for toshi. “c’mon, let’s go home, it’s wednesday.” you smiled.

-

a/n; this part i’m so proud of. my best one uet. even tho i only wrote two fics. and this is just wave one. you think this ended on a happy note? lmao okay. stop reading at part 2 if you want a happy ending. don’t force yourself to feel the pain. like, follow, or repub for another part or to see more of me.

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family Epilogue

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

I drum my fingers on my arm, watching the other moms gather around for pickup. Charlie was done her first week of school--she’d officially settled into the routine as the only thing she talked about every day was what she learned, the new friends she played with, and what her teachers told her. I almost felt like I was there with her. It was never ending.

A few of the moms eye me--I get it. I was new, and usually Charlie took the bus home that dropped her right outside the complex. Today was special, we were celebrating her first week so I’d come to pick her up myself.

One of the moms catches my eyes and she smiles, surprisingly warm. I smile back. A moment later, she walks up to me. “Hi, I’m Gina--Kira’s mom. You must be Mrs. Styles.”

“Oh I’m...just Y/N.” I shake her outstretched hand. “No Styles.”

“Right,” she glances at the group who are staring even harder. “Everyone’s curious about you, it was quite a sudden surprise when we found out Charlotte Styles was going to be joining the year with our kids.”

“Oh well, she’s not actually Charlotte Styles I-” I rush to explain as her face falls in confusion. “She’s Charlotte Y/L/N. But, it was quite a surprise for us too! All very last minute. We really had a fire lit under our asses trying to get her enrolled in time.”

I cringe at her shocked expression when I swear--here I was proving the American stereotype perfectly, just swearing casually like I wasn’t waiting for my 4 year old to get out of school.

But just as quickly, she recovers. She laughs loudly--I suspect mostly for the group of moms still staring, and begins talking a mile a minute about enrolling her kid, almost not making it too. I listen, it was sort of nice to talk to another mom. And I vaguely remember Kira from some of Charlie’s stories.

The way things turned out, I decided to stay in London. It was a mad dash with enrolling and paperwork but we were lucky Harry Styles was her dad. Y/N from 5 years ago made a decision to move to London to be with the love of her life, and even though we detoured from that, we made it in the end.

The bell releases a rush of children and I spot Charlotte from her sparkly clips she insisted on wearing to dress up the uniform she hated so much. I thought she looked adorable.

“Let’s go monkey,” I hoist her up and pepper her with kisses which she complains about, but I ignore her. I missed her at home sometimes, it was way quieter without her orbiting around me all day. We head to our car and head off to join Harry who’d told us where to meet him.

A 15 minute ride takes twice as long but with the music up, Charlie seems okay. Actually, she’s nearly bouncing out of her seat but she doesn’t complain.

“I guess your dad wanted a stroll through the gardens,” I say as I park and unbuckle Charlie from the backseat. I text him we’d made it and he tells me where he was but when I get there he’s nowhere to be found.

“I think we’re a bit lost,” I tell Charlie.

“Nuh-uh,” she bounces up and down.

“If I knew gardens made you this excited, i would have brought you to one earlier.” I comment.

With Harry’s texts going silent, I put my phone down and actually take a look around. It was breathtaking, the light coming in through the frosted windows and the giant leaves curling over each other made it feel otherworldly. “wow.”

“Mom!” Charlie grabs my attention. I look down to where she’s nearly vibrating and staring at something behind me. “Mom! You have to turn!”

“What...”

A shockwave passes through me when I turn and see Harry kneeling behind me, grinning, holding a delicate box with an even more delicate ring inside. I stare at him, frozen in place.

“Y/N I-”

“Oh my god,” are the only words that my mouth is capable of. “Oh my god!”

“Oh my god!” Charlie echoes behind me, and I glance back forgetting she was there. She knew, I realise. She knew!

“Harry...”

“I had a whole speech planned but, I don’t want to waste any more time. Marry me Y/N? Make me happy forever and marry me?”

“I...”

“Mom say yes,” Charlie tries to whisper and the laugh that bubbles out of me breaks the spell I’m under. Suddenly tears well up and I’m nodding, moving to Harry as I whisper yes again and again. He clutches me to him and Charlie joins in, shouting celebrations as we hold onto each other. Our family.

Harry slips the ring onto my shaking hands. I’m still lost for words as I stare at it, and then him, and then Charlotte who’s over the moon. All the emotions swirling on the inside are laid out expressively by her. My chest can barely contain my heart as it swells with love: for my daughter, for Harry--my fiance! For the life I felt so lucky to finally have.

I laugh and kiss Harry, “You two planned this whole thing?”

“Yeah,” Harry scoops Charlie up and high fives her. “It was a risk but Charlie was very good at keeping the secret.”

“I’m really good,” she repeats.

“I know,” I tickle her and she laughs. “I should keep my eye on you now.”

“You’re gonna be my wife,” Harry grins at me.

“I never thought this would ever happen,” I smile so hard my cheeks hurt.

“I finally have you,” he leans in.

“You always did.” I kiss him and I can feel him smiling against my mouth.

“Ew!” an ear-shattering shout from between us forces us apart, laughing. Harry lets Charlie down and she goes running down the empty aisle--Harry must have cleared it beforehand. He thought of it all.

“She should get used to that,” Harry laughs and pulls me in. “Because I don’t ever plan on stopping.”

He kisses me again and I agree, “I’m not complaining.”

Once we finally break apart, we spend some time roaming through the gardens since it was empty, and then filter out to dinner once the sun began to set. I can’t stop looking at my hand, it almost catches me by surprise every time I see it. I never actually thought this was going to happen, but here on my finger was proof that we could patch things up and find our way back to each other again. That we could be the parents Charlie deserved. That we could be together like this: full of love and ridiculously happy.

[voltagesmutter]

Napoleon C, D, F, H, M, Z. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Heavily into cream pies, he only wants to finish in you but only if your okay with it. He never wants to do anything would upset you.

“Napoleon,” Your fingers threaded through his hair to pull his face closer to yours, your legs wrapped around his waist as he continues in slow rocking movements.

“Are you sure about this my sweet,” A gentle hand comes to rest upon your flushed cheek as you give a the strongest nod you can muster in the moment followed by a ‘yes’.

You’d already hit peak twice, now chasing his own in a slightly quicker pace. Just the thought of he allowing him to come inside you brought him a easy finish, hips juttering forward as he pressed him self as close to you as he could be. A heavy groan followed by your name, one hand grasping the bed pillow beside your head as the other palmed over your cheek. He maintained eye contact whilst painting the inside of your walls white, nothing but love for you pouring from his body.

Despite all his victories in battle, none of them compare to the swelling pride of his heart to think one day you would carry his child. 

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

Not much of a secret, but wants to make you cum multiple times leaving you in a heap of entangled limbs before find his own release.

Your breasts lay pressed against the softness of the mattress, back arching in a curve to when your ass presses high, the taunt muscles of the front of his thighs pressing fiercely against the back of yours, not an inch of distance between you as his cock lies deeply between your folds. Your slightly spread legs are kept in place by his lower calf’s, pushing slightly to keep you held in place whilst his hands lay anchored on your waist to hold you still. The slow thrusts are almost tortuous, each time he pulls off you can feel the sheer thickness of his dragging against your walls before pushing back in at the same pace. He’s searching with his thrusts, searching for that spot that makes you gasp inaudibly and when he finds it, he hits it every time with calculated movements gaining speed and pressure each time. He pulls back leaving half of him self inside you before thrusting forward and pulling your waist back at the same time, just to hit that perfect spot within to make you see stars. His breath becomes more ragged as he feels you tightening around him, even though your only a few minutes into this round, his ego purely swelling to watch you become a drooling mess from the sheer pleasure he’s delivering to you. His pace slows as you come but the intensity doesn’t die down, the power of his slower thrusts cause the bed to shunt against the wall each time as you cry into the sheets beneath you from the intensity. He’ll continuing to hit that spot over and over and over, well into the night until your almost overstimulated, his pace never faltering only slowly to savour the sweet moans that leave your lips and the pure tightening clench of your muscles over him. Only when he knows your a wreck beneath him, arousal and release from purely you coaxing over his balls and dripping onto the mattress below will he chase his release, causing another final one from you so you can be one in a moment of bliss.

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

Has short but thick curls at the base of his cock, definitely matches the drapes with the darkness of his hair. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Wants to look into your eyes, that emotional and intimate craving lies so heavily between you. Our poor Napoleon was so hurt by the ways of his life that he almost clings to this intimacy as a reassurance that he is alive and safe. It’s you who anchors him, it’s you who is the burning beacon in his life, it’s you he wants to know he will do whatever it takes to protect you and keep you safe.

Whilst the bed is great, let’s be honest the things broke a few times before, he loves to make love in the quiet room in the attic. Watching you shudder in his arms beneath the moonlight as the glossy rays settled upon your skin giving an almost glow to you. You’ll either be on your back on-top of a plush rug with your arms around him pulling him closer as his lips kiss yours in time to his gentle trusts. Or he’ll be sat facing the window whilst you straddle his lap, slow grinds of your waist met with shallow thrusting. Head thrown back as his mouth latches onto your breast giving it a gentle suck as the two of you admire each other’s body’s. Either way it involves close intimacy and heavy eye-contact.

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

The smallest actions between you represent your love, you don’t need to be physical 24/7 with Napoleon to know he loves you. It’s the small things that radiate the pure bond between you like the way you walk hand in hand down the cobble street, passersby making comments on very much in love you look. Which of course you are.

It’s so cliche but his love for you. This man is so deeply in love you with that he wants to remind you of it everyday and minute he can. Everything about you makes him hard, the small smiles you greet him with over breakfast, the wrinkle of your nose when you sneeze, the small bite of your lower lip as you concentrate. The way your eyes dance with a passion when you have a conversation you're deeply inspired by. 

Oh god and when you give him that look, that look of pure lust and love beneath your thick lashes, oh by the gods does he have to use all his control not to take you on the spot. The day he was innocently eating crepes at the table, a speciality Sebastian had made him, the look you gave him across the room as the blue of your eyes got lost beneath a heavily glossed fog he almost choked on his food. Never had you looked so needy, so wanting for him, so stunningly beautiful than that single moment. It took under a minute for him to race across the room, pull you to him as his lips worked an assault on your neck pushing you to the nearest available room (which turned out to be the music room). The way you so elegantly dropped to your knees, pushing him against the shut door and took his already hard cock into your mouth nearly ruined him. The dark desire that fluttered across your eyes as you peaked up from your long lashes, cheeks hollowing as you pulled more and more of his length into your mouth was a sight he wanted to be burned into his memory forever. He spilled at the back of your throat before growling and taking you against every surface in the room, the piano bench, the floor, the wall, the window, the sofa and finally over the piano. Both of you purely spent as the room lingered with the heavy scent of sweat and sex. The content smile you gave him as you panted against his chest, the burning still in your eyes made him *just barely* take you to his room and reclaim you well into the night.

The blazing passionate love you both feel for each is the reason your unable to keep your hands off of each other.

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

Considering how much this man sleeps, he doesn’t fall asleep straight after sex. He likes to tend to you and your needs first, getting a warm washcloth to clean up the stickiness between your thighs as he places loving kisses to your inner thigh. He waits to see the slowing down of your chest rising before giving into his exhaustion, he was plagued with nightmares leaving him consistently restless but since having you held in his arms as he sleeps, the nightmares simply vanished. He can’t bare to sleep without you in his arms and neither can you. Especially since you found out he will passionately kiss the first person who wakes him, yeah you have morning sex nearly everyday. 

Napoleon - K, O, W.

ABC’s masterlist here

[shinjaeha]

itsay ep 3 (thoughts + spoilers)

itsay ep 3 fucking obliterated me so here i am with some more thoughts on this episode (drama) in general. this is just me being an incoherent mess bc my mind is basically just one long !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! after having watched this (once raw and again subbed). this isn’t an analysis, it’s literally me just gushing over the ep as i watch it bc boy oh BOY.

WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT EVERYTHING HITTING DIFFERENT AFTER THE BOAT SCENE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! if i thought the tension in the boat knocked the breath out of me, this whole ep was that x10000.

they really started us off with a bang having continued straight off from last ep with teh smelling oh-aew’s hair, huh?? teh rubbing his face with the coconut paralleled with oh-aew smelling his coconut scented shampoo?? excuse me as i cry into my hands.

teh wasn’t willing to wake up early for tarn when she wanted to draw early in the morning, but when he sees that oh-aew wants to wake up early to study, HE’S the one that makes sure that oh-aew wakes up (and he stays up to keep oh-aew company, even if it’s just over the phone). then again when they’re at the resort...love that tarn realises that too. boy ain’t subtle. also, how is it even possible that they can have that much tension just speaking over the phone?? they’re not even in the same room and the tension between the two of them is so thick i can barely breathe.

the “let me know when you’re home”!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOYFRIEND BEHAVIOUR. as soon as oh-aew asked teh why he always asked tarn that, i KNEW they were gonna put that in there for him and oh-aew and i’m glad i wasn’t disappointed :))) the look on oh-aew’s face when he saw the text!!!!!!!!!!! the way he stopped in his tracks!!!!!!!!!

i already had a feeling that oh-aew was going to be the first one to properly realise and accept his feelings for teh based on the teasers (makes sense since he already knows he likes boys...he’s more sure of his sexuality, which would of course make it easier for him to accept based on that). seeing the way he used the ‘if you get close to him and he doesn’t move away it means he likes you’ theory that teh initially told him to try on bas with teh too was really cute. and the jealousy over tarn. i LOVED that we got to see a more petty side to him when he announced he was going to room with bas partly bc of how lowkey jealous/mad he was about teh and tarn talking over the phone. it left teh so unsettled and confused (the piano music was PERFECT in that scene), and is 510% something teh would have done too (based on the previous two eps). they really are a perfect match huh. but poor bas being caught in the middle of the two of them ;;;

i liked that a lot of this ep was from oh-aew’s perspective. i feel like we got mostly teh’s pov in the first two eps, so it was really nice to see things from oh-aew’s pov too. gave us all more insight into his personality and he’s honestly SO MUCH more flirty than i thought he was going to be omg. the potato chip scene where he just crawled over to teh and ate that potato chip all the while staring straight at teh, then lying on his lap?????????? teh was (understandably) flustered after that AND SO WAS I. i was not expecting that whatsoever. i was also really impressed with how honest oh-aew was about his feelings. i love that he’s stayed true to their previous heart to heart in the boat scene last ep where he basically told teh that he wanted transparency between the two of them. he’s sticking to that, and i admire him so much for being able to be that vulnerable and true to himself. i thought there might have been more confusion with bas, but it looks like as soon as he realised his feelings might have faded/that he was feeling things for teh now, he just went with it. i know in my last text post i said that oh-aew is usually the more cautious/pragmatic of the two, but i feel like when it comes to his feelings, he seems to be really in tune with who and what he wants (more so than teh). this of course makes sense bc he’s likely had more time to come to terms with his sexuality...which is what teh’s figuring out for himself now. on top of that, oh-aew’s feelings for teh are a lot stronger than the ones he has for bas. and since he’s also more certain that teh likes him back, he’s so much bolder in how he approaches teh. and teh, to his credit, returns that honesty too when oh-aew basically pushes him into acknowledging that there’s ~something between them (hammock scene). i was kind of expecting him to push away from that/deny it, but he didn’t. he’s obviously just a lot more confused with his feelings and still needs some time to understand them and process them fully. on a related note, hammock scene was so loaded and SO well acted by the both of them. the fact that they can move from playful in one scene too achingly intense in another always throws me for a loop.

another thing i really love about the two of them is how they push one another to be better. it’s that rivalry that makes their bond even stronger, but it’s also something that worries me for future eps ngl...

but i honestly feel SO BAD for bas...clearly, he likes oh-aew, and although oh-aew was initially confused with the two of them, he’s definitely more convinced when it comes to his feelings for teh. but when bas essentially asked oh-aew out, and oh-aew said let’s invite the rest of they guys?? he looked so sad and my heart kind of broke a little. it’s like watching the poor second lead in a kdrama. and tarn too :( i really hope that when teh accepts his feelings for oh-aew, he doesn’t keep her hanging on the way that most BLs tend to do. she deserves so much better than that. my heart really hurts for the both of them, but at the same time teh and oh-aew are just magnets being pulled together at this point. they can’t stay away from each other.

the scene where teh rubs the smell of oh-aew’s coconut scented pen (from what he’s written) all over his face bc he’s at his limit and can’t stand all those pent up feelings anymore, only to race out to their special meeting place on the beach????? the moment he sees that oh-aew’s there too and he chases after him entranced (and the smile on oh-aew’s face)????? the way the instrumental ost just swells the moment they see each other????? the way they tease and dance around another yet again?????  PURE ART. A CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE. THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DRAMA I HAVE EVER SEEN. this whole sequence has to be my fave scene in this ep. god, that part where the camera closes in on them and they’re face to face before oh-aew steps away again had my heart trying to flutter its way out of my CHEST. THEY HAVEN’T EVEN KISSED IN THE SERIES YET AND THEY CAN REDUCE ME TO THIS. honestly, their power is something else. the fact that they can stir so many emotions in all of us just by the way they glance at one another, by the way they dart around one another barely touching...there are dramas/movies with multiple kiss/love scenes that can’t even create that tension and longing. it’s the kind of chemistry that burns you inside out. it’s so palpable.

the thigh massage scene had me CAPTIVATED (like all their scenes tbh) and then teh’s mum came to wake me (and the both of them) up haha. but for real, there’s just something so tentative about what’s happening. these feelings are new to them, and they’re easing their way into it. always toeing the line, but not overstepping it yet. it’s primal. they keep letting those feelings build up more and more and more. and you can always feel the way it’s leading to something else. and of course it leads into the next scene where teh’s tutoring oh-aew again but the atmosphere is so incredibly heavy, so tight, that they can’t contain it anymore (i mean, the fact that they contained it for so long when they’re teenage boys with feelings for one another is already astounding enough to me). teh tries so hard, but then the back scratch happens and...THIS ICONIC SCENE...i thought they were going to kiss then (before oh-aew turned around), but then we got something else entirely and the intimacy of it all. just wow. literally not a single kiss and it was one of the most sensual scenes i have ever seen in a BL. it’s just the way they get so caught up in one another. THE YEARNING OF IT ALL. this whole ep was just pure anticipation, and i have never ever wanted two characters to kiss more than i do these two. it’s the build up that gets me (idk if this can be considered slow build since there’s only been like three eps but it sure as hell feels like it!!!!!!!!!). then teh pulls away and it’s like a smack in the gut...but at the same time, i get it. he’s not ready yet. there’s so much for him to take in and he’s not there yet (not the way oh-aew is), and just like oh-aew, it keeps us all hanging on, so close but not quite there yet.

so much of this felt like this cat and mouse game between the both of them where one of them would advance, then retract...it makes the tension between the two of them even MORE overwhelming bc you keep anticipating something, and you get fleeting moments of it, but then it’s over by the time you blink. they keep toying with one another, but not crossing the line YET bc they know that that’ll change everything the moment they do. it’s such a testament to the writing AND the acting bc it’s the chemistry that bkpp have with one another that creates all of that push and pull dynamic, that yearning and desire. having to wait a whole week again is just devastating...i think next ep seems like it might be the climax?? i’m pretty sure it’ll be the ep where teh accepts his feelings (or at least won’t be able to hold himself back physically anymore), where all the build up finally properly erupts, but at the same time, i just know that the angst is going to start piling up and idk how to feel other than terrified bc i’m way too invested now tbh.

anyway, this drama is absolutely magnificent, and all i want to do is rave about how damn good it is. so high quality. it feels so fresh, like they’re reinvented the tried and true coming of age tale in a way, and we’re all just along for the ride. it transcends the typical thai BL story (and i now understand why they were hesitant to label this as BL when it really feels like it encompasses so much more than the usual BL tropes and story). one of my fave dramas of the year by far (BL or otherwise). it’s just a class apart from any drama i’ve watched before and ticks every single box for me. stunning in every way. down to every detail and every feeling and emotion. it’s so raw and real and i can’t praise what nadao and the team have done with this enough (and we still have 2 more eps to go!!). there’s just so much meaning in every little thing, and in all those little things you can see the time and care it’s taken them to make this.

[izukult]

Okok awesome! 🖤🖤 I do have a wide variety in my music taste but artists most in my rotation are definitely Tyler the creator, Doja cat (streets?? Pls on rpt 🤤) and Arctic Monkeys, (pls don’t feel restrained by these artists tho !) very much chill vibes and driving late at night if that makes sense asjfkdkka. Personality wise I’m pretty awkward and fairly antisocial, very much ->🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️😨 but once you get to know me I’m pretty loud and a little much tbh 🤭 like my laugh is genuinely TOO loud lmaooo, and I would very much appreciate it with Kageyama if that’s not too much to ask 😳👉🏼👈🏼 thank you again 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

hello my love. if i hadn’t known you, i wouldn’t have done this any kind of justice. BUT STRAP YOUR ASS IN WIFEY YOU KNOW WHAT IT BE. @chubbybunny111

you and kageyama.

oh god you and kageyama would scare the fuck out of me as a couple. have you seen those memes like boy who doesn’t talk all too much 💖 girl who loud asf? you two. LMAOOO.

definitely you two make fun of each other. on the daily. but, he also grumbles little compliments to u all nervous like. i feel like he would very much like your hair?? like,, it’s so curly,, it’s so pretty,,,, do a fella a favor and let him play with it, yeah?

i’m just imaging you in your straight clothes from high school and him in a disgusting unwashed sweaty ass volleyball uniform😻😻 IM SORRY OK ANYWAY

you two share earbuds all the time. just sittin next to each other in moderate silence with tunes playing.

he is so bad at texting LMAOOO. you’d send an ironic emoji and he’s done for? he just stares at it. blankly. void of any emotion other than confusion.

“i’m sorry did you just send ‘🤕’ after telling me you love me?”

“hey, you’re crying. why are you using 😋 right now?”

i’m sorry for making fun of him but also i’m NOT THATS SO FUNNY.

now, don’t take what i said earlier wrong, he’s not just like oh yes quiet around you (that’s not his personality people need to be better🙄), but when you two are in public he’s not like really affectionate? unless he’s jealous because he is (infact) an insecure bitch, but whenever that happens it feels forced and awkward figure that out kags.

we see the way he acts with hinata like? if he’s comfortable with you he’s going to be loud as fuck there’s no denying it. yall get told to shut up like on the daily?

shares his milk with you😁 not his food tho

LMAOFJAOFJS IM SORRY BUT HAVE YOU SEEN THAT MANS RELATIONSHIP WITH EATING? you ain’t getting between that babe

anyway here’s a fucking playlist for your hot ass i am literally in love with you. i really like this playlist tbh :)

1. sometimes (backwood); gigi- starting off with my favorite song at the moment. this isn’t really completely a deep meaning with the lyrics thing, because this song is pretty sad? i think it’s so vibey. it’s so good. it’s just a gentle, quiet night with the windows open and a full moon. however, like i said he’s insecure and has overthought while listening to this song.

2. breezeblocks; alt-J- mostly just a banger, indeed. you’re driving (i would not trust him behind the wheel? ever?), the lights are super pretty, he’s looking at you from the passenger seat ‘discretely’. he doesn’t want you to go, so those lyrics are accurate, but he’s also not a murderer dw😁 he couldnt

3. i wanna be yours; arctic monkeys- PHEW. OKAY. OKAY JESUS CHRSIT. no because you don’t understand yall are in LOVE? like in LOVE. he probably kisses you for the first time while this shit playing. he also, by default, blushes EVERY TIME THIS SONG COMES ON. such a lil bitch baby🙄

4. sucker; jonas brothers- stop before you say anything this song is unironically so good. i? could imagine you like? terribly dancing to this i dunno. i feel like if you got tobio in the right mood he would jam to some music w you‼️

5. EARFQUAKE; tyler, the creator- i think kageyama was like the kind of guy who mentally was constantly like “i want a gIRLFRIEND FUCK🤬🤬🤬”, but lile also once it happens? svary as fuck. have we not talked about how he does not really like himself much (thinking ab him practicing his smile rn poor baby). so yea, bad self confidence & in love with you. this song. PLUS, it’s a banger.

6. streets; doja cat- you at him lmao. do i have to say anything else?

7. ivy; frank ocean- he would put this song on a playlist for you and then not tell you about the song or the playlist and still get nervous about how youd react lmaooo. however, yknow in movies when like the guy looks at the girl and the music swells? that but with an emo volleyball player and frank ocean

8. redbone; childish gambino- very chill vibes and driving late at night energy. this song plays while yall lay on like ur couch or smth and you’re messing with the ends of his hair and he’s playing videos on his phone with one hand and like kind of awkwardly nervously trying to hold ur hand with the other and he just does the pinky thing thAT WE WERE TALKIN BOUT LMAOO

9. cocoa butter kisses; chance the rapper- i feel like if you were to smoke, this is the song you’d get high to. i don’t have much reason other than that? i can just see this playing in the background as you two exist together

10. my kind of woman; mac demarco- man, you’re really driving him mad🙄 BUT‼️ I THINK? ITS ALRIGHT WITH HIM😳. he’s absolutely whipped and he didn’t even know he had the ABILITY. i feel like you like to prove people wrong, so here’s another instance.

11. casual; doja cat- i know everyone hates getting played, but you feel like you would take a LOTTA precautions to avoid that, including the whole walls up deal. you’re super upfront about it? you’re not like secretly testing the waters, you’re like ‘if ur fucking w me gtfo of my face lol’ but clearly you wouldn’t talk to kags like that (however he’d hurriedly say he’s not a little too loud)

12. afraid; the neighbourhood- ABSOLUTE TOBIO ENERGY (also oikawa energy, i think its so cute that we are married and the mfs we choose to love r rivals). but anywho, absolute MAD tobio energy. yes he also takes out his insecurities with anger don’t actually like he’s not gonna have to work on that lmao

13. sex on fire; kings of leon- arguably one of the best songs to ever exist. he would be like ?!😳 the first time he heard it and youd probably like flick him LMAOFJAODJ this is just a good jam song for you two. he would definitely sing this song with you, don’t care don’t care

14. scary love; the neighbourhood- i’m beginning to think the neighbourhood just has kageyama energy? remind me to look into that later. either way, i’m putting extreme emphasis on this song. this song is completely how he feels. this song is IT. he watches in anticipation as he “shows you it cos it’s a good song”. please just be nice to him (while also bullying him😁)

15. when you were young; the killers- you’ve made out to this song i’m so sorry. MAYBE THATS JUST BECAUSE I THINK THIS WOULD BE THE PERFECTTTTJRJEJTI SONG. god. good fucking music. equal mix of good song and the lyrics hitting

[bellesque]

Can you write a smut story with Loki?

Ask and you shall receive! Also on my AO3.

An Inspiring Distraction (Loki x Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.3K (yikes)

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Orgasm Delay, Established Relationship

Summary: You’re adept at pretty much every genre. Except romance. You take to watching romance movies to help you along the creative process, only to be interrupted by the God of Mischief. Turns out, your boyfriend has a better idea of how to spark inspiration and get your juices - creative or otherwise - flowing.

A/N: Well. This turned out way longer (and way dirtier) than I originally planned. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this.

YOU REALLY TRY to ignore the interruption.

The tapping of a finger isn’t totally distracting, a light rhythm on the top of your shoulder. Almost feather-light. Only you expect it to end at some point, if you disregarded it long enough—but it doesn’t. The movie that plays on the screen in front of you has lost your focus, and because of that you huff in exasperation.

“Loki,” you whine, shifting from your position on your couch to sit up and whirl around to chastise your boyfriend.

Except he isn’t there.

You sigh loudly, hitting pause on your movie. “Loki,” you call again, this time with a little bite in your tone.

“You called, dearest?”

His voice comes from behind you, in between you and your television. You shift against the pillows. Most of the time, you loved Loki and all his tricks and games. Other times, like today—well, sometimes dating the God of Mischief had its disadvantages.

The only one being that he could be such a distraction.

You give him a pointed, unamused look in return of his smug, almost Cheshire cat-like grin. His eyes feign innocence, and you roll your own. “Was there any point to your little Morse code message on my shoulder?”

“Of course. I wanted your attention.”

“For what reason?”

“For no reason at all but to see your beautiful face.” Loki steps forward, and you fight the part of you that thaws at his compliment. Damn him and his silver tongue.

“Yeah, well, this beautiful face is still mad at you,” you mumble as he settles on the couch beside you, pulling your legs on his lap.

“You are most beautiful when you’re angry with me, sweetness. Why do you think I tease you so?” He grins at you in that way that causes your heart to seize (just a little; you won’t admit more than that), rubbing your bare calves absently.

You snort, turning your attention away from him and hoping that the warmth you feel in your face isn’t evident.

Loki too turns his gaze to the television in front of you, and you’re reminded to hit play. You allow yourself to relax into his touch as the movie continues, taking mental notes of key points you think would work in your own project. He’s quiet this time, thank goodness, allowing you to return to the level of focus you were at before his magic interrupted you.

He squints as soon as the music begins to soften and the sexual tension onscreen is evident. Leading to the iconic kiss, you can tell. This moment is big, you note, ready to take notes on every little detail that will concoct the perfect kiss—

“What are they doing?”

The speed at which you hit pause is surprisingly fast. “What does it look like, Loki?”

You can’t keep the frustration out of your tone this time. Your assigned project is a romance—a genre you are not well-versed in. Your concentration is broken and you’re not sure if you can pull off constructing a kiss scene that is both believable and emotional enough, and with enough steam that will fog the screens.

“I was not aiming for petulance this time, sweet. You would do well not to be angry with me over a simple question, gorgeous creature though you may be.”

His words are sweet enough, though you know it’s to mask the confusion—and probably slight hurt—he feels.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, reaching up to touch his forearm. “I’m just… it’s stupid. I have this big project coming up and it’s a romance. And that’s the thing I’m the least good at. I was hoping maybe this movie could give me a little inspiration, some tips.”

Loki quirks an eyebrow. “Am I mistaken about our arrangement? Are we not dating, pet? Shouldn’t you be drawing inspiration from your personal experiences?”

“It’s different,” you say, this time feeling the warmth of a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Not everyone has dated a god. And…” you trail off.

Loki looks at you expectantly. “And?”

“There needs to be a love scene.” The words tumble out, rushed and embarrassed.

Loki only laughs, sliding his hand onto the curve of your hip before resting his arm on the edge of the couch. “Alright sweet, let’s do it your way.”

“Thank you,” you say with finality, “now no more interruptions until this movie is done, agreed?”

“You have my word.”

True enough, you and Loki watch the movie in comfortable silence. You like to think maybe he’s even enjoying it a little at this point.

Well, until he’s the one pausing the movie.

“I cannot bear this anymore,” he says, rising to his feet.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“This—this show of yours.” He gestures at the TV. “Absolutely useless material for you, sweet. Bland and sloppy. Amateur at best.”

“I’ll have you know, Loki, a lot of people rave about this movie.”

“Yes, yes, you mortals have such poor taste in the arts because you fail to feel and capture the entirety of passion.” He offers you his hand. “It is up to me for your project to be as evocative as possible. Now. What is it that you want?”

“What I want?” you repeat, allowing Loki to lead you to your feet. “I’m not sure—”

“What aspect of romance, darling.” In an instant, Loki transforms his features into a shy, almost hesitant look, not meeting your eyes and shifting from foot to foot. “Is it the novelty of a new love, perhaps?” he asks, his voice timid and tentative.

You’re about to open your mouth to praise him, tell him that wow, he is a damn good actor, but just as quickly he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. You find your hands against the hard planes of his chest and in a split second he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards so you lock gazes. The way he looks at you is smoldering, intense and captivating as his eyes pin you in place and you notice just how green they are.

You focus on that color as you forget to breathe, a familiar tingle blooming in the pit of your stomach.

After what feels like way too many seconds, Loki’s eyes flit down to your lips, the subtle dip of his eyelids a subconscious message for you to follow suit in anticipation for a kiss. Sure enough, his head angles towards yours, his eyes fluttering closed as yours do, and your lips pucker just slightly.

The hand on the small of your back moves to the nape of your neck, keeping you in place, bringing you closer towards him for the kiss—

He stops a hairsbreadth away from you, his lips just barely brushing yours. “Or are you looking for the undeniable thrill that sexual tension brings?”

The spell he’s seemingly put you under is broken and your eyes snap open. Your heart is actually beating wildly in your chest, your breathing just the slightest bit heavier. Loki grins at you mischievously.

“Lo—”

Loki spins you around, this time switching your position so that your back is to his chest. One arm snakes around your waist, the tips of his fingers moving underneath your baggy shirt and skimming over your bare skin. His hand creeps up, up, up, until it’s resting under the swell of your breast, his breath hot at your ear.

“Or maybe…” he purrs, moving your hair to reveal your neck to him. He presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive spot just under your ear, the hand on your abdomen tracing absent circles now. You can feel the goose bumps rise on your skin, starting at the base of your breasts until your nipples prick up, and your entire body shivers of its own volition, all while Loki sucks a bruise into your neck. “Everything that comes with seduction.”

You exhale, your head falling back against Loki’s shoulder as he continues his ministrations. Everything with Loki is still fairly new, uncharted territory, and you’re honestly liking where this is going.

The plus is that it’s going to help with your project, most likely.

“What will it be, sweet?”

“M-maybe the second option? Or the third…? Since, I dunno, I think that’s what’ll be most helpful for the—the love scene.”

“Well then,” he murmurs in your ear, his silken voice drawing a wanting pang from you, “we’ll just have to continue what we started, won’t we?”

The speed at which Loki shifts your position—yet again—is disorienting. He spins you again so you’re facing him, and he hoists you into the air close to him until you’re sitting on his forearms with your legs nowhere to go but wrapped around his waist. Your hands bury themselves in his soft hair as Loki pulls down the collar of your shirt and begins sucking at the skin of your neck without warning.

“Loki!” you exclaim as he begins walking up the stairs, presumably—where else would you be going?—to the bedroom. The high-pitched squeak you emit as his teeth graze your skin somehow prompts him to squeeze your butt cheek just a little.

Loki uses his magic to fling the door open, a loud bang accompanying it. His lips detach from you as he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You notice that his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a bit dilated, and you think it’s safe to say you look the same as well.

“I apologize if I got carried away earlier, my sweet. Now, the lesson begins here.” He stands, towering over your sitting figure. “You’ve had a taste of the emotions of romance with me as your partner, but think of this moment, specifically, to aid in your project. Was it a proper seduction? Enough for what you will be working on?”

You give it some careful thought. Or at least, you pretend to—because frankly, there is no way in hell you’re letting Loki leave you high and dry after his heavy petting.

“I think I’m seduced,” you say, surprised to find your voice a little shaky. “But I think it needs a little more… something, I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“So it was unsatisfactory.” Loki’s eyes glint a certain way; the kind of look you’ve associated with his games, only this one you’re playing seems to be a very sexual one. “What is it again that you need help with?”

“Romance…?”

“And which of my options will aid in your production?”

“The second or thir—”

Loki surges forward and takes your lips between his teeth, rolling his tongue over your bottom lip and then sucking. You barely register it when your back hits the softness of the mattress and Loki settles himself on top of you.

The way Loki’s lips and tongue moves over and with yours is absolute bliss, and you return his actions with equal fervor. His hands roam across your torso, one hand toying with the hem of your shirt until it slides underneath to caress your warm skin.

Loki pulls away from you and nuzzles your cheek with his nose. “This, sweet. This is what you should be aiming for. The chemistry between us is unrivaled and cannot be duplicated, but you may possibly write something very close to it.”

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and as casual as his seems to be. “Uh, I do have a few concerns about the love scene, though.”

He perks up at this, his eyebrows raising and the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Oh?”

You’re finding it increasingly difficult to form coherent sentences as Loki’s hand travels south and toys with the waistband of your shorts. A finger hooks underneath it, just briefly, before tracing a line from one side of your waist, over your stomach to the other side and back again.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to get out, sucking in a breath as Loki’s fingers dance over a sensitive spot you didn’t know you had, “like how would it transition smoothly from the making out to the actual, y’know—sex.”

The way you say sex is breathier than you want it to be, but it’s because of Loki’s stupid wandering hands leaving you a breathless mess. He’s looking at you, desire clouding his irises, and it takes your willpower not to drag his face back to your lips.

“Well, sweet, it would usually go like this—but, from here on out, no interruptions. Just let me show you…” And his mouth descends on yours again, hot and heavy. An inner voice cheers loudly at this victory, knowing that this is how Loki likes to play his games.

His hands begin to pull up the hem of your shirt over your head, your lips parting for the briefest of moments before he’s latching onto you again and tossing your shirt to the corner of the room. Fumbling, you undo the buttons of his black dress shirt and slide it down his shoulders.

Loki pulls away from you and smooths his hands over your body. “You are a goddess, my sweet.” He bends down and presses a kiss to the center of the column of your throat. “Absolutely breathtaking.” Another one in between your breasts. “Maddening.” Another, just above your navel. “My goddess.”

Butterflies bloom in your stomach at his words, and you feel an instinct to shower him in the same praise. “And you, Loki…” You bring him back up to eye level and try to roll on top of him. He lets you, your knees on either side of him. “You are just exquisite.” You kiss his Adam’s apple, where you feel it bob just slightly at your words. “Marvelous.” On his sternum. “My God of Mischief. My Prince of Asgard.” The final one, this time below his navel, dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.

Loki groans, fisting a handful of your hair. “You are the death of me, sweet.”

“Good,” you say, placing a hand over the tent in his pants and flashing him a devious grin. “I should be.”

Loki growls and pulls you up, rolling over so you’re pinned underneath him again. Your shorts disappear in a flash of green, leaving you in only your underwear.

“Hey, no fair, you used magi—ah—” your complaint is cut off by Loki’s mouth on your breast, his other hand pinching and tweaking. Pleasure hums throughout your body.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Loki comments, smiling victoriously until your hand slides underneath his pants and cups his erection—at which his jaw slackens and he groans.

He cups your mound in response and then maneuvers your underwear to the side. Without missing a beat, he slides two fingers into your slickness. This time, it’s your turn to let out a moan. You grip his erection more tightly, pumping up and down, feeling the trickle of precum on your inner wrist, and Loki curls his fingers inside you. Your body arches upwards.

“All this be damned,” he mutters, and with a green shimmer you and he are naked. Loki presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing lazy yet purposeful circles over it, all the while his other fingers continue pumping in and out of you.

Your hand probably stops groping him at some point; your mind is frayed with the pleasure his hands are giving you, but you’re jolted back when you feel him jerk in your hand. Curiously, you swipe a finger of the slit of his head, and Loki’s hips and fingers stutter.

“Loki,” you breathe, gyrating on his fingers, “I need you inside me now.”

He doesn’t say anything, but covers your neck with a wet, hot kiss, applying just a little more pressure on your clit. You bite back a moan and decide to squeeze him harder, your other hand raking a stripe down his back.

“Need to cum soon,” you pant. “I think you do too.”

Loki pulls his fingers out of you and wordlessly places his fingers in his mouth, tasting you, all the while never breaking eye contact. It’s erotic, maybe a little obscene, but your libido only skyrockets.

“I want your eyes on me at all times.” His voice is dark with desire, practically dripping lust, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

Loki positions the head of his cock at your dripping slit, tracing over it with excruciating slowness until you’re covered in each other’s slick. He rests a finger on top of your clit, and then in a fluid motion he buries himself to the hilt as he presses on your bundle of nerves.

Closing your eyes at the heaven you’re both feeling, you both moan, a broken harmony, and the sound adds to the arousal you both feel.

“You are so warm and wet for me. It is almost unbelievable,” he murmurs.

“Your cock feels really good inside me,” you whisper, a little ashamed once it leaves your lips. But Loki doesn’t seem to mind—in fact, he seems to relish the praise. You stay unmoving for a while, your cunt experimentally fluttering around him, until you can see Loki’s restraint is hanging by a thread.

You grind your hips, a silent signal for him to move within you, and soon you’re a breathy, writhing mess beneath him as he thrusts, first slowly, until his movements increase in speed, a crescendo you can also feel in your body.

You feel yourself coming close to the edge of release, the coiling of energy deep within your core, and you reach down to guide his fingers to your clit.

And when his fingers begin their familiar rhythm, his lips crash onto yours in an urgent attempt for dominance, you clamp your walls around him and Loki groans into your mouth. He presses harder against your clit and he swallows the wanton moan that spills from your lips.

“I’m going to cum,” you tell him, feeling the familiar sensation burning even hotter now. “Cum with me. Please, Loki, I need you to.”

Loki’s jaw is set, beads of sweat forming on the top of his forehead. With a little growl he spreads your legs even wider and ruts into you, hard and fast, though only for a moment. His movements slow to a lazy pace, sliding in and out of you while his hands circle your clit in the same rhythm.

“Loki,” you whine. “Please.”

“I’d like to draw it out.”

“You already are, so just fuck me already.”

You clamp down exceptionally hard around him this time, and Loki captures your lips in a kiss as he goes back to the breakneck speed you were in earlier.

And then you feel your orgasm begin to crest, you and Loki moving in sync, your nails raking patterns all over his back you’re sure they’ll be red raw later.

He presses exceptionally hard, rubbing your clit between his fingers as his other hand cups your breast. “Cum now, sweet.”

Your body shudders as you feel the white hot pleasure explode within you, your walls fluttering around Loki’s cock as you cum with a cry. You feel Loki’s close too, so you continue rhythmically squeezing his cock until he cums with his own shuddering groan.

Loki takes your face in his hand and he kisses you, languid and lazy, as you both ride out each other’s orgasms. He rests his forehead against yours before rolling onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

“That was…” you begin after a few minutes of silent cuddling. You stroke his chest.

“Perfect for your project, correct?” he says, planting a kiss in your hair.

A warmth begins to spread across your lower regions. You prop yourself up on your elbow, giving him a particularly blatant nonchalant look. “I don’t know. I think I need to do a little bit more research.”

Loki pulls you down over his chest, his hands playing with the ends of your hair. “Devilish woman,” he comments affectionately. “Wherever do you get it from?”

“A certain God of Mischief.” Your hand snakes down to between his legs.

“Now. I think it’s time for lesson number two.”

Maybe some distractions are worth entertaining after all.

[joontier]

Patawad, paalam. | drabble

translation: forgive me, goodbye. 

pairings: jungkook x reader

rating: NC-17

genre: romance, angst | warnings: wholesomeness basically (one-liner implied smut),,,,,, until you get to the last line gklasjdfa bUT DONT SKIP 

word count: 1.3k

g/n: AHHHHH! my first release for The Paraluman Project!! might as well rename this angsty august (can i get an amen @mintseesaw​ this was meant to be posted in a few hours bUT IM IMPATIENT LIKE THAT kdsjfasfasf) anywho,, ‘Patawad, paalam’  is meant to be a prologue and an epilogue at the same time and if you guys want to have a lidol backstory well lmk okiiii,,,, yall know im ready to spoil my darlings EEEEP feedback is always appreciated!! ILY YALL

navi. | m.list

Today’s the big day. 

The church had been decorated just like the way you’ve always pictured it to be - your idea of the perfect wedding finally a reality. Just as what had been planned years ago by both of you, you have decided on celebrating this once-in-a-lifetime event in your chapel - the very place where you two first met. 

Four-feet tall pedestals crowned with bouquets of white hydrangeas stand tall and proud along the length of the aisle, while the sunlight passing through the stations of the cross depictions on the stained glass provided an extra burst of color on the snowy flowers. 

Jungkook has never been good with crowds, especially not when the audience included their relatives and some of their closest family friends. Yeonwoo, Jungkook’s best friend of many years, takes notice of the man’s palpable uneasiness, and approaches the nervous man. “You’ll do just fine, Kook. I believe in you.” After a pat on the back, Jungkook smiles at his best friend, grateful for the much-needed reinforcement. 

There’s a quiet chatter amongst the guests, remaining seated on the wooden pews as they wait for the processional. The benches have been newly varnished just for the occasion. While a number of the invited guests speak to each other to pass the time, the rest take photos of the immaculate venue as they praise the decorations. Perhaps he could mention your unparalleled efforts in his speech later at the reception. 

Pride swells in Jungkook’s chest as he remembers how much time and effort you had spent perfecting each detail of the church’s decorations, investing at least three whole days of planning for the interior alone. 

Jungkook stands by the altar patiently, big brown eyes scanning the crowd and silently thanking each one of them for having allocated a day from their busy lives just to witness one of the most important days of his life. The man continues to struggle with the event’s actuality, his stubborn nerves gnawing at him deliriously. In fact, he doesn’t think he’d been able to cope with reality for the past few days. 

He recalls having dreamt about you last night, unable to sleep a wink after seeing a vivid image of you in a white dress during his slumber. The restless man takes a stroll in the seminary’s garden in the hopes that the tranquility afforded by the grounds will bring him enough peace and quiet to lull him back to sleep. 

As he entered a secluded area only a few people knew of (you included), he found you on the swing, swaying yourself gently on the seat. He wanted to go back to his room, under the quite ridiculous belief that it was bad luck to see the bride just before the wedding ceremony. He watches you for a while, hiding behind a moss-covered wall. As he studies your features, he senses you’re just as restless as he was and shortly after, he finds himself walking towards you, unproven hearsay the last thing on his mind. You converse for a good two hours until you deemed it time to go back to your rooms and get some sleep. You both had a long day ahead of you and rest was important. With a final hug, you part ways once more. 

The musical ensemble brings Jungkook out of his reverie, the sudden sound of the violin playing making him jerk slightly in surprise. The soloist starts strumming the strings of her guitar to a familiar tune, giving the song more depth and emotion with the melodic sound resonating throughout the chapel. The crowd’s chatter immediately falls to a hush, the audience faces the entrance to watch the highly-anticipated processional. 

Wise men say, only fools rush in 

But I can’t help, falling in love with you

Your niece enters first, passionately throwing white petals from a large disproportionate wooden basket. Her tiny feet carry her throughout the length of the aisle, sending a half-toothless smile left and right. 

Her older brother trails after her a couple of meters away, his usually unruly hair now handsomely tamed with gel for this special occasion. The audience coos at the siblings, finding the duo most endearing. There’s muted laughter amongst the crowd as his small hands tremble, the ring pillow shaking lightly in his grasp. As they reach the altar, your brother, the best man, gives the siblings a high five before guiding them back to their pews. 

Like a river flows, slowly to the sea, 

Darling, so it goes, 

Some things are meant to be

The bridesmaids file in with bright smiles from the side, each carrying a mellow arrangement of baby breaths and lavenders. Your closest cousin, Cassie, who you chose to be the maid of honor has flown all the way from Canada just to witness your wedding. She walks the carpeted aisle slowly, dabbing at her cheeks with the back of her hand as she clutches onto a bouquet with the other. 

Next in line are Jungkook’s parents, who are both holding on to each other for support. When Jungkook’s and his mother’s eyes meet for the first time today, unspoken words are shared between the mother and son, small smiles gracing their lips in acknowledgement. Your parents follow after them with your father’s cheeks already red and wet with tears. 

As the entire entourage get to their seats at the front, the music stops. All bodies turn to face the entrance. The majestic wooden doors finally open with an audible creek, and the whole chapel falls quiet. 

Take my hand, 

Take my whole life too, 

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Jungkook’s eyes, previously scanning the crowd, finally fixate on you. God, you were so beautiful. He reprimands himself for using the Lord’s name in vain, but at the same time, there was no one else to speak to, or thank but the Lord Himself: for his life, for his family, for this day, and most especially, for you. 

You looked magnificent. Regal, even. 

He wasn’t familiar with how dresses were described in detail, all he knows is that the exact moment he saw you today, time just froze, as if the whole world paused in its entirety. You were the girl in his dreams. You were the girl of his dreams. 

A tiara adorned with crystals and pearls rests prettily on your head, the crown anchoring a sheer, long lace veil that flowed beautifully along the length of your gown at the back. The bodice of your dress accentuated your curves wonderfully and the endless number of baroque patterns sewn onto the fabric of your dress added up to the silhouette your wedding gown graciously gave you. 

Jungkook’s mind betrays him for a moment - the vivid memory of the single intimate moment you two shared - an experience of a lifetime that had been etched onto the back of his head for the rest of eternity. 

Jungkook subconsciously tugs at his sleeves, racking his brain for something to stop his trembling hands but achieves nothing. His palms are likewise getting clammy, only adding to the poor man’s nervousness. When he meets his mother’s eyes one more time and she sees the emotion swirling in his son’s eyes, she lets out a choked sob, resting her head against her husband’s shoulders as he places a consoling hand on her back for support.  Jungkook diverts his eyes before his own tears threaten to fall. 

As you finally reach the altar with your own hands trembling like a falling leaf in autumn, Jungkook gives you a small smile, one you reciprocate with a warmer one. Tears start to well in his eyes. Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage as he takes a deep breath. With renewed hope, he takes in his surroundings and sets another smile on his face, this time more genuine than the last. He spreads his arms and speaks - 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God, to witness the joining of my very own brother, Junghyun and _________ in the holy covenant of marriage…” 

© hhyungz 2020. All rights reserved.

[celestialmark]

Best Part - Mark Lee

Telling Mark you love him for the first time ever, has never felt so good. 

category: smut, fluffy smut, vanilla smut, heavy feels, domestic bf mark 

word count: 1.8K 

warnings: unprotected sex (please always were protection!) 

author’s note: merry (belated) Christmas! I wrote this piece while listening to Daniel Caesar and H.E.R’s Best Part, hence the title and it’s kind of a continuation from “A Poem Titled You”. I know I never ever write smut lmfao, but I decided to give it a shot in combination with how I usually write for mark ehe. I hope you do like it! 

Lazy Friday nights are spent in Mark’s bedroom, sitting side by side, backs leaning against the headboard of his bed, mindless conversations drifting from one topic to the next. His fingers are playing with yours, his brows taught in the middle, finding fascination with how soft your skin feels under his touch. His playlist plays lowly in the background, his music taste evident with every song that plays and the atmosphere is comfortable, just like how it always is with him. Mark tilts his head, his cheek coming in contact with your temple.

“Tired?” you ask quietly, enveloping his hand completely in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

Mark presses a short kiss on the side of your forehead, thumb rubbing invisible circles on the back of your palm, “a little.”

You turn your head to him and find a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. His orbs are shining, holding so much love for you, the intimate gaze sending you into waves of euphoria. Mark didn’t have to tell you he loved you, his eyes spoke it all, his body showed you without missing a beat. The warmth of his gaze urges you to lean upwards, your back momentarily leaving the headboard to land your lips on his. You feel him smile against your lips the moment they touch his, making your heart jump and your insides melt. He reciprocates your kiss after, moving them in a slow, innocent manner, his warm and soft lips adorning yours with so much emotion, the notion of time disappearing instantly with the absence of haste. Mark lets go of your hand and raises it until it finds a shelter on your nape, the tingling sensation of his thumb grazing the skin there provoking goosebumps to rise on every inch of your skin.

It feels too overwhelming, too good, to be loved like this, and it makes you weak. Though, you push past your weakening limbs, lifting your body completely so that you can nestle on his lap, tangling your fingers in his black locks in the process. Mark pauses to smile into the kiss again and you have to pull yourself back, the surge of emotions knocking air off your lungs, your chest heaving when your eyes comes in contact with his. He drops his palm down to the delicate curve of your spine, the other rising to trace the outline of your cheek. His eyes begin to implore yours when your empty, agape features comes into view, the smile on his lips becoming replaced with a knot of his brows.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice dulcet. 

“Yeah. i— just,” you struggle, the words getting caught in your throat, your heart swelling at the feeling of Mark’s delicate touch, at the way he’s gazing at you like you possessed the whole world. “I love you,” is all you manage to say and it comes out in one breath, the release of your words bringing some sort of relief from having been restricted for far too long.

You anticipate Mark’s reaction, your eyes never blinking for fear of missing anything important. But he smiles again, one wider than all the other ones for you from tonight, reaching up towards you to latch his lips on yours again, securing your jaw under the soft of his fingers. You wish you’d told Mark earlier, maybe when he’d said it to you the first time because knowing he finally knew that you really did love him, feels painfully amazing, your chest although heaving from the intensity yet gentleness of Mark’s enthralling kiss, feeling featherless.

A soft groan gets lost in the kiss when you shift yourself in his lap, Mark’s arms trapping you by the waist, pulling you closer. And that’s when you feel it, the growing bulge just below where you sat. It’s your turn to smile in the kiss this time, retracting your lips away from his, pushing yourself down onto him, resulting in another low groan to emanate from his mouth. His face contorts lightly at the sensation and when you do it again, he buries his face in your neck so that he can muffle the incoming moans threatening to spill.

“God i love you,” he murmurs into your skin, peppering it with soft kisses. A moan resonates in his room but it’s coming from you this time, feeling your lower half growing all too damp from the mere friction below. The sound rings in mark’s ears, pressing his body even up to yours, wanting nothing more than to help you. “baby— please,” his voice almost desperate, but still so pure, his words getting lost in your skin.

Under the sheets, you feel Mark raise himself when you finally comply, his hands quick to free his aching member from the restraints of his boxers. He runs a palm up your core and forces his eyes shut when he realises how damp your underwear had gotten under his shirt you’d been wearing all day, before he tugs it down your legs and tosses it on the floor beside his bed. Using your knees to support your weight, you scoot upwards, your breath hitching when Mark guides your hips, feeling the tip of his member poking at your glistening entrance.

“Say it again,” Mark states lowly, mesmerising eyes searching yours. “What you said— is it true?”

You nod your head, your body completely still above his, though aching to have him already. But you slow down, knowing how much your words must have meant to Mark, from having not reciprocated the exact same words when he said them to you months back. “I, I love you Mark.”

And you swear he’s the most beautiful thing to ever exist when he smiles, happiness so painfully evident in his eyes. He reaches for you, wrapping his long lean arms around you frail body, finally pulling you downwards slowly. You find the strength to circle your arms around his neck, forehead resting against his as you sink down onto his thick length as far as you can take him. He stays completely still when you engulf his entirety, placing chaste kisses all around your face and on your neck.

“You’re doing so well,” he mumbles, planting another kiss on your jaw. “Feels so good, babe, you always feel so good.”

Your chest rising up and down, your walls stretching as much as they need to, in that moment neither of you move, relishing in the intimacy of it all, different from all the times you’ve done this all those other times because now, there was no more hiding. “So much Mark,” you whisper into his ear, almost brought to tears. “Love you so much.”

You let your body take over after you final confession, raising yourself just until his tip prods at your entrance before sinking completely down on him, his whole length disappearing within you. Mark groans and holds you even tighter because seemingly for him, nothing feels better than having you close. Time stills and the jutting of your hips with every moan that falls off your mouth is a testament that with mark, time was never a thing, the world coming to a complete halt whenever you basked in his presence. Mark kisses you, another kiss full of affection and reassurance that he too, feels the same way about you, just as you keep the rhythm of your hips steady, dragging yourself with no sense of urgency to feel all of him with every stroke.

“Faster?” you ask quietly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair, his mewls keeping in time with the motion of your hips.

Mark snakes a palm under your shirt, the tips of his fingers running along the warmth of your back, raising your heart’s pace even more. “No. i just want to feel you.”

And you fall for him even more.

In the midst of your moans, in the middle of the continuous groans that spill from Mark, he juts his hip forward to meet your thrust, your body shaking in reaction, your nails digging into his clothed shoulder. “Mark, do that again please—“

And he does. And it feels oh so good. And he keeps doing it, loving the way you gradually become a moaning mess, his name falling from your lips like a broken mantra. His thrusts reaches deep, seemingly with each one, reaching new depths you were unaware of. Mark settles his palms on either side of your hips, face burying deep within the crook of your neck, focusing on making you feel good as his thrusts become stronger than the last.

You’re clinging onto him helplessly tighter, your breathing becoming ragged as you feel the intensity of it all pool altogether. “Love you,” Mark says again, a moan rolling off his tongue shortly after. Your eyes are rolling back from too much sensation and it only takes Mark a few more thrusts until you’re unraveling, the release making you quiver, prompting him to pull you into his body, leaving no gap between the both of you, as you attempt to recover from your mess. Your limbs tremble as you take over, the motions of your hips returning to ride your high and with mark so close to you like this, you pick up your pace, adapting a faster one that you had initially initiated.

Placing a kiss on the corner of his lips, you use your last bit of energy left to show him how much you really love him, allowing your body take control ultimately as you bounce on his member. When he realises what you’re doing, his grip on your waist tightens, feeling the way his fingers sink onto your skin leave visible imprints. You feel you’re going to come undone again soon, the sensitivity from the previous catching up to you but you push that aside and focus on mark who’s become a grunting mess, his lips ghosting over your jaw.

“Baby, i’m close. so close.”

His words spur you to pick up your pace, taking all of him in the process and it doesn’t take long for mark to finally release in you with a long groan and a heavy exhale, the warmth coating your walls as he thrusts deep within you a couple of times to accommodate your second release, finally coming undone with him. You’re calling for his name as you do so, collapsing into his arms with limbs twitching.

Mark holds you like you’re the most delicate thing he’s touched, neither of you moving as you both try to catch your breath, chests rising and falling in unison. He rubs your back up and down comfortingly, a silent affirmation of his love, and plants another kiss to your temple. You raise your head away from the dip of his shoulder, leaning forward to kiss his lips briefly before resting your forehead on his chin.

“Have I told you I love you?”

You smile.

“Every day, Mark. Every day.”

[artificialqueens]

I Wish You Were Sober (Crygi) - Mumu

A/N: Had to write something for my favorite quarantine bop! It’s also on AO3.

Summary: Gigi just wishes Crystal would kiss her- even when she’s sober.

Gigi clenches her jaw, tightening her grip on the red solo cup in her left hand. The red plastic crushes in on itself with a loud crunch, a split opening and leaking beer all over her.

“Shit!” Gigi drops the cup as fast as she can. The liquid splatters onto the carpet, pooling around her feet.

Gigi takes a few steps to the left, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Nicky, the hostess of this particular bash, isn’t even paying attention, and Gigi sends up a silent prayer for that small mercy.

Thank god everybody’s too occupied with grinding on each other as a sad excuse for dancing, or playing beer pong, or smoking joints in the kitchen to have noticed her spill.

Speaking of smoking joints, Crystal’s currently doing just that, blowing smoke out of her cherry red lips and flirting blatantly with the quarterback.

Crystal tilts her head back and laughs throatily, batting her lashes at the football player. She tosses a handful of crimped hair over her shoulder, tugging at the neckline of her dress to show more skin. The sight makes Gigi bite down on her tongue, another flash of anger shooting through her.

The cycle is always the same.

Gigi shows up to a party she doesn’t want to be at, Crystal in tow. Crystal makes a beeline for the drinks and the weed, hanging around the football team for the entire night. She usually ends up dancing on the quarterback, an obnoxious dick that’ll peak in high school.

Gigi always watches her flirt from the corner of the room. She’s left alone to glare at the back of Crystal’s platinum blonde head, watching while the other girl gets progressively more and more clingy with people that aren’t her.

Afterwards, when Crystal is ready to leave, Gigi will drive her home, and Crystal will kiss her in the car, pressed uncomfortably against the window, or wedged between the door and the driver’s seat. She’ll climb into Gigi’s lap, fingers tangled in her hair, and tell her she’s pretty.

And Gigi will go along with it, letting Crystal make her little drunken declarations of love, because what else can she do?

She likes Crystal, so, so much. Hearing Crystal say it back just for a moment gives her a rush of joy so intense it almost makes the next few days worth it. Crystal never admits it in daylight, when she’s sober. But Gigi will take anything she can get.

And so, Gigi keeps torturing herself by watching Crystal throw herself at unknown boys throughout the night, because the promise of those lips on her own is too addictive to quit. Even if they taste like tobacco and cheap alcohol every time.

Crystal trades a drink with a boy Gigi recognizes from her Chemistry class. Crystal probably doesn’t even know the guy, but that doesn’t stop her from thanking him with a sloppy kiss.

Gigi gnaws at her lip, aware that she should probably look away, but not being able to. Her hands tug at the flaps of her leather jacket, twisting the material up. Crystal leans in, draping her hands over the boy’s neck. Gigi swallows thickly.

She suddenly regrets spilling her drink on the ground, because knocking back lukewarm beer sounds like a perfect coping mechanism right now. Crystal turns, pressing her back into his chest, and suddenly the music is too loud. The party is swimming in her vision in all its sweaty, grimy glory. She needs air. Now.

It takes every ounce of strength and self-control that Gigi has to walk to Nicky’s bathroom at a reasonable pace when every fibre of her being is screaming at her to sprint there.

She slumps against the door as soon as it shuts, sliding down towards the floor. Something bitter and mean swells in her throat.

Gigi squeezes her eyes closed, counts to ten over and over until she’s sure her emotions aren’t bubbling right under boiling. It’s the last party of the school year, and Gigi’s alone in the bathroom having a meltdown.

If Nicky saw her like this she’d probably call Gigi a loser: and she’d be right. Gigi’s fucked.

Her eyes drift towards the window, a furrow in her brow. She almost laughs at the absurdity of the idea that pops into her brain. Can she crawl out of it?

The last time she tried was when she was twelve, back when Nicky would sneak her in every Friday for the sleepovers the girl used to host. Gigi’s mom never liked the idea of her going to a sleepover so they’d used the bathroom window to get Gigi in without waking up Nicky’s parents. When Jackie moved to the neighborhood in seventh grade, they’d done the same for her. The girls had fit through the small space easily back then.

The idea seems more and more appealing the longer she stays alone in this bathroom. She considers, running her tongue over her teeth. It might be a tight squeeze, but Gigi can probably do it.

She tiptoes over, cranking it open experimentally. It gets stuck at around three inches, so Gigi pushes even harder, straining until it finally opens fully. There’s a fine layer of dust settled around the windowsill, and Gigi wipes it off with a square of toilet paper. Other than that, it’s the same as she remembers.

She’s going to do this. Gigi hoists herself up, trying to shimmy her shoulders through the small square. Her jacket restricts her movements, though, and she can’t quite wedge her arms through properly. She lands back onto the bathroom floor with a thump, knocking her elbow against the wall in the fall.

“Fuck,” Gigi groans, rubbing the sore spot. A bruise will probably show up tomorrow morning, judging from how hard she banged it.

Okay. New approach.

This time she throws her jacket out the window first, before trying to fit her body sideways through the window.

It works, sort of, and Gigi’s left with her head out the window and her left arm pressed to the outside wall. Her hips get lodged, and Gigi tries to twist her body so that she can wiggle loose. It’s painful, the wall digging into her thighs, but she eventually manages to topple into Nicky’s front lawn, right on top of her jacket.

Gigi flops onto her back, breathing hard. The night air is sharp. She gulps it in, trying to recover from what just happened.

The bass is still pounding through the neighborhood, leaking through the walls of Nicky’s house, but it’s quieter out here at least, and Gigi can finally hear herself think. It’s so peaceful compared to inside the party that Gigi feels herself getting a tad bit sleepy.

Her text tone brings her out of the daze. Gigi fishes her phone out of her jacket pocket, the screen lighting up to show two unread messages.

Methhead:

geeg where r u.

do u wanna leave now?

A groan passes Gigi’s lips. Great. Just when she’s beginning to think clearly, Crystal has to come and muddle it up again. She pinches her phone lazily between her thumb and index finger, letting it dangle upside down, above her chest, with the screen right in front of her face.

She could just not respond. But Gigi can’t do that to Crystal. How would she even get home without Gigi giving her a ride? So she picks her phone right-side-up again, preparing to text back.

“Gigi?” Crystal’s voice rings out.

Gigi scrambles to her feet in the general direction of the voice, brushing dirt off of her jeans. Her phone slips out of her hand in her haste, hitting the ground.

“Hey, uh, over here!” Gigi calls, grabbing her phone off the ground.

Crystal turns, trying to locate where Gigi is. She brightens when she spots the redhead, rushing over.

“Hi baby,” Crystal laughs. “You look so pretty.”

Gigi feels a thrill up her spine at the pet name. Crystal links their hands and raises them over her head, motioning like she wants Gigi to give a spin for her.

Gigi turns obediently, an awkward smile on her face, trying to swallow her heartbeat as it climbs into her throat. Crystal smells like pine trees and cheap alcohol. Gigi wants to kiss her.

“Why’d you run off on me?” Crystal practically falls into Gigi’s arms as she comes to a stop, looping her hands around Gigi’s waist.

The action draws Crystal in close, their noses practically brushing. The white around Crystal’s blue eyes has gone red from the weed, and when she huffs a breath out Gigi can smell the earthy scent of it on her tongue. Gigi can hardly breathe, her head buzzing at Crystal’s closeness.

“Uh-”

“I had fun! Did you have fun?” Crystal asks, all cheerful. Gigi bites at her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact. It seems too invasive. She scuffs the bottom of her heels into the dirt instead, relishing in the sound of the mud as it splatters onto the straps of her high heels. “Nicky’s parties are the best.”

“Yeah.” Gigi grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Her voice quavers a bit, and she winces, praying Crystal doesn’t notice.

Lucky for her, Crystal’s oblivious to her feelings, per usual. “It was great, right? Did you see me kissing Damien? He tasted, like, gross. I wanna kiss you instead.”

Gigi stares, spluttering out an incredulous laugh. Crystal has to be kidding. “That usually work for you?”

“Uh, yes?” Crystal tilts her head, doing an impression of a confused puppy.

Gigi would find it cute, if not for the fact that she’s increasingly feeling like throwing herself off of a cliff, or maybe punching Crystal in the face. Crystal can’t possibly think that everything’s peachy.

The highlighter that Crystal applied to her collarbones earlier in the night glistens under the moonlight, and Gigi has to close her eyes to avoid tracing the metallic glow with a finger.

“Hello?” Crystal prompts, untangling herself from the other girl. “I asked for a kiss.”

“Right,” Gigi mutters. She runs her tongue along her teeth, trying to find some way to explain why that isn’t a good idea.

But Crystal is leaning closer, and the pull between them is intoxicating. Her fingertips slide up Gigi’s neck and tangle in Gigi’s glossy auburn curls, and before Gigi can come up with an excuse Crystal’s lips are on hers.

Gigi would be lying if she said it wasn’t thrilling. They fit together perfectly, with practiced ease. Crystal knows how to tug on Gigi’s hair just right so that Gigi clutches at her, and knows that when she bites down on Gigi’s bottom lip it’ll make her chest heave and her breaths come heavier.

It’s cruel how good Crystal can play her. Crystal tastes… like Crystal, woodsy and peppery and warm. It’s pathetic how used to it Gigi is by now, how she could pick out Crystal from a crowd of people if she had to, just by the taste of her and the feeling of her and how she’s buried herself deep into Gigi’s bones.

When Crystal pulls away it leaves emptier than she’d like to admit, and there’s anxiety spiking in her gut at the feeling. Gigi’s going to cry tonight, can feel it in her bones the same way she knows a fake Birkin from a real one with one glance.

Gigi’s eyes stray to the girl’s face. Crystal’s lip gloss has been smeared onto her chin and her bangs are wild. Her appearance makes Gigi’s blood throb with something hot and filthy, and Gigi feels the breath get knocked out of her at the feeling.

“Let’s go.” Gigi snaps, and whirls on her heel. She doesn’t bother checking to see if Crystal’s following her.

The ride is awkward, to say the least.

Gigi has to dig her acrylics into the steering wheel to focus. Crystal’s smacking her gum in the passenger seat, trying to get rid of the smell on her breath so that her mom doesn’t notice when she gets home. Gigi tries to tune it out, but the sound is grating and she can still hear it with the volume of the radio turned up to an 18.

When Crystal blows a pink bubble with her gum and pops it loudly for the third time, Gigi pulls over, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Can you not?” She doesn’t mean to sound so bitchy, but Crystal’s been getting on her nerves all night and Gigi’s never been a patient person.

“Sorry.” Crystal flushes, fiddling with her hands. She sounds genuinely apologetic, even with the high lacing her voice.

Gigi sneaks a glance at the other girl’s face and immediately wishes she didn’t. Crystal has made herself small, curling her knees up to her chest. She looks childish, face illuminated by the glow of a streetlight shining through the window, and Gigi feels a wave of guilt.

“Fuck, no, sorry.” She eyes Crystal’s folded up form, and sighs. “Here.”

Gigi shoves a hand in front of Crystal’s face. Crystal just blinks at it, confused. “Huh?”

“Spit,” Gigi says shortly.

“Oh.” Crystal hesitates.

“C’mon, I don’t have all night. And I don’t want to listen to you chewing the whole ride.” Gigi glares until Crystal follows the instructions. She flings the chewed-up blob out the open window with more force than necessary. It lodges into a crack in the sidewalk next to a bottle cap.

“Litterbug,” Crystal says under her breath. Gigi ignores it.

Gigi flexes her fingers against the rubber cover on her steering wheel, the bright yellow staring back at her mockingly.

It doesn’t seem right to start driving again, when the air between her and Crystal has stretched so thin and yet still manages to hang so heavy. She bites her tongue to prevent herself from blurting out an apology in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness. She has nothing to apologize for.

“Um,” Crystal says. “Are we just going to sit here, or are you gonna to drive me home?”

Gigi takes a sharp breath in, like she’s going to say something. The words get lodged in her throat, right under her soft palate. She cranks the car window up again to seal the night air out. The car engine is still humming softly, the only sound breaking up the tension in the air.

“Right, yeah.” She manages finally. Crystal quirks a brow, but Gigi doesn’t bother explaining herself.

Instead, she hovers a heel over the gas pedal, biting at her lip. The unsaid words clump under her tongue, bouncing around in her head.

“Are you mad at me?”

Gigi jerks her head towards the passenger seat where Crystal is sitting, bumping her head on the headrest in the process.

“Ow. Fuck.”

“Are you?” Crystal asks again. She looks nervous, pouting slightly. Crystal reaches a hand out like she wants to touch Gigi, but pulls it back before she can close the gap. Gigi’s heart skips a beat at the action.

“No,” Gigi lies, turning back to face the front.

“O-kay.” Crystal says, pulling the word into two syllables. A beat. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Gigi says.

“Okay,” Crystal repeats.

Outside, somebody’s car alarm goes off and she jumps, startled. Gigi shifts, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. Neither one of the girls speaks, the blaring siren filling the silence.

“Do you-” Crystal starts. Gigi winces at the sound of Crystal’s voice cutting through her head. “What did I do?”

Gigi makes a sound low in her throat, strangled. It kind of sounds like a laugh, warped up and bitter. “Have you seen yourself?”

“What?” Crystal says. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gigi just shakes her head, not answering. She turns the radio up, shifting the gear out of park. The car starts onto the road home again.

The drive is smooth, but she still feels like throwing up. Crystal is sneaking glances at her when she thinks Gigi isn’t looking. Gigi tries not to look.

She parks the car outside of Crystal’s house and turns the keys to turn the engine off.

“Geeg, don’t,” Crystal heaves a shaky sigh in and out. “Don’t shut me out.”

“Please stop.” Gigi’s tone is clipped, her sentence punctuated by the slam of her closing the car door.

“Gigi, I can’t read your mind! I don’t know what’s wrong,” Crystal’s voice gets louder, and she moves to block Gigi’s way when Gigi tries to sidestep around her to get to her porch.

“That’s exactly the fucking point,” Gigi huffs.

“You’re being unreasonable.”

Gigi’s already resigned herself to giving Crystal vague answers until she gets bored and leaves her alone. But when Crystal spits the statement, her pride boils over, because how dare Crystal say that?

How dare she act naive and unaware when she practically throws herself at Gigi every time alcohol enters her system? What’s Gigi supposed to do, not catch feelings? Especially when Crystal looks like that, all olive skin and red lips and gorgeous bone structure.

And Crystal just acts like everything’s perfectly fine the next day, every time. She always leaves Gigi thinking of the feeling of Crystal’s lips pressed against Gigi’s, or her weight on Gigi’s lap, or her hands knotted into Gigi’s hair.

It’s not fair. It’s never fair with them two, and that’s the problem. Gigi’s in love with her. Crystal couldn’t care less.

Gigi doesn’t realize she’s talking out loud until she stops to take a breath. She freezes, panic swirling up from her bones.

Her head gets dizzier and dizzier the longer Crystal stays silent.

“Crys-” She starts. Crystal cuts her off.

“How long?” Crystal whispers. It’s still too loud in the silence that blankets them.

When Gigi doesn’t respond, Crystal repeats herself, voice a little more frantic this time.

“Gigi, I need to know.” Crystal takes a sharp breath in. “How long have you liked me?”

Gigi swallows. Prays for the ground to swallow her up. But Crystal’s gaze is unwavering, and she has nowhere to run.

“Since the eighth grade,” Gigi admits. Crystal makes some kind of shocked noise, but Gigi plows on anyway. If she stops, she might never get the courage to say this again.

“You- you gave yourself a mullet in the school bathroom during Biology, remember? That was the first time I’d ever skipped a class. You were so confident about it. And I was-” Gigi interrupts herself with a bitter laugh. “-I knew that was it. I was so fucking gone.”

“Oh,” Crystal says. She blinks. “Oh.”

This is… Not how Gigi dreamed this would go, to say the least.

On the rare nights she stayed up at 2am listening to love songs and allowed herself to dream of maybe someday telling Crystal she liked her, “oh” was not what she imagined Crystal saying back. And Gigi isn’t a dreamer. She prides herself on thinking logically through her problems. She trusts her head more than her heart, and it’s no wonder, given the shit her heart has put her through.

So she isn’t expecting an elaborate profession of love, or a monologue out of Romeo and Juliet. Just something with a little more substance. Fuck, even Crystal freaking out and not wanting to ever talk to Gigi again would be better than “oh.” She just needs something.

“Crystal, I’m sorry, I-” Gigi says. She trails off when Crystal shows no sign of hearing her. Gigi pulls her jacket tighter around herself. “You should go in, it’s cold.”

Crystal doesn’t move. Gigi can’t quite make out Crystal’s features in the evening light. Her face has blended into shapes and shadows, blurring at the edges.

“Are you crying?” Crystal asks.

Oh. So that’s why everything’s gone fuzzy.

“No,” Gigi sniffles. She forces a strained smile, just barely managing to lift the corners of her mouth. Her throat feels swollen, and it hurts when she speaks. “I’m fine. Fuck, sorry. I don’t know why I said all that.”

“Gigi,” Crystal says. Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to a toddler. “Do you regret saying it?”

This is it. Crystal is giving Gigi a chance to take back a shred of dignity, to salvage whatever is left of their friendship.

“I- no, I don’t,” Gigi says, and that chance is gone. She shoves her hands into her jacket pockets to hide the shaking, balling them into fists. The inner lining bunches up under her grip.

“Okay,” Crystal says. She shakes her head lightly, like she’s trying to clear it. “Okay then.”

Gigi kicks the grass underneath her feet. The lawn is wet, dewdrops wetting her ankles. There’s dirt between her toes and clinging to the bottom of her foot.

There’s a ping, and Crystal fishes her phone out of her pocket. The blue light of the screen lights up her face and she squints at it.

“My mom’s asking where I am,” She reports. “I should- uh, I should go in.”

“Right.” Gigi clears her throat to give herself something to do. “Yeah. Okay. Night, Crystal.”

“G’night,” Crystal echoes. She doesn’t move.

Gigi feels a fresh wave of tears burning against her eyelids. She tenses her tongue, pressing it against the roof of her mouth with surprising strength in a bid to keep them back. When that doesn’t work, she takes off.

Gigi turns, walking as fast as she can down the block, away from Crystal, until she’s full on running, fishing her car keys out of her pocket with shaking hands. Her blood is pounding in her ears, and she can’t see straight.

Everything looks like it’s being viewed through a fish-eye lens, all disfigured. She feels for the door handle blindly and wrenches it open, clumsily getting in.

There. Now she’s alone. Crystal can’t see her anymore.

Gigi grinds the heels of her palms into her eyes, struggling to catch her breath. Bile rises in her throat, and she gasps for air, trying to blink clarity into her vision. Gigi coughs, hands flailing randomly around for something to grip onto. Her elbow hits the horn and the sound just makes her head even dizzier, the ringing in her ears chaotic.

Fuck. Why did she have to go and admit her feelings to Crystal? Gigi should have just kept her mouth shut like she always did before. The tears are still coming hot and fast, and the stickiness on her cheeks just makes her even angrier. God, she’s pathetic.

A rapping on the window breaks up her pity party.

Gigi raises bleary eyes to the sound. To her horror, it’s Crystal on the other side of the glass, motioning impatiently for Gigi to roll down the window. Gigi sucks an unsteady breath in. It’s staccato and comes in short bursts, like she’s just run a mile. Panic claws at her insides, and Gigi sputters out a hysteric giggle.

She opens the window, fingers shaking against the button.

Gigi wants to spit out an excuse, explain away why she hasn’t driven away and is instead sitting in her car bawling her eyes out like some kind of loser, but she can barely catch her breath, much less form words in this state.

“Gigi, are you- are you okay?” Crystal asks anxiously. “You uh, you ran off before I could say anything else.”

Gigi makes some kind of miserable noise. Her finger is still on the button to roll down the window, even though it’s already all the way lowered, and her car beeps in protest.

“Look, I-” Crystal starts. She seems to do some kind of calculation, before blurting out the rest of the sentence. “I’m really sorry.”

Gigi’s drowning. There’s ice water in her veins, a chorus of I-told-you-so and you’ve-ruined-everything crashing against her skull. She pushes air out of her nose forcibly, something like a laugh but not quite.

“I was really scared, okay? And I still am. I’m still trying to figure all this out, liking girls and shit.” Crystal clears her throat, shifting nervously on her feet. “I thought you were, I don’t know, just interested in kissing me. Nothing more.”

A mean, petty part of Gigi wants to drive away right now, to not give Crystal the time to explain. But the softer part, the part that’s still stupidly heart-eyed for Crystal wants to stay. It wants to hug Crystal, pull her in and tell her it’s all fine.

Gigi digs her fingernails into her palm and ignores both of those thoughts.

Crystal is a big girl. Gigi’s not going to clean up her messes for her, especially not when they’ll just make the ache in her chest even more painful. She’s done that too much lately.

But Gigi does owe Crystal the chance to talk her feelings out. Especially given how she dumped all hers onto the girl earlier.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Crystal says. She gestures vaguely with her hands. “I didn’t mean to.”

Gigi opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Crystal reworks her words, stumbling over them.

“Or- or maybe I meant to, in this, like, fucked up way. I don’t know.”

Gigi blinks.

“Maybe I was trying to hurt you and push you away because I liked you, yeah?”

“Are you asking me if you like me?” Gigi murmurs, eyes trained expectantly on Crystal’s face. Nothing feels real. She taps her fingers against her thigh just to do something with her hands. “I can’t answer that for you, hun.”

Crystal seems to start at that.

She shakes it off with a slightly giddy giggle, more breath than sound. It sits in the distance between them, swirling. Gigi thinks if she raises her hand she might be able to capture it in her fist, unfurl her palm to see the sound glittering against her flesh.

“Right. Sorry, I don’t know how to, uh, do this good.” Crystal amends. She pulls a shaky breath and expels it again. “I- fuck, this looked easier in the movies.”

Gigi’s lips quirk slightly. Crystal doesn’t know if it’s in amusement or something else, but she takes it as a sign to keep going.

“I care about you a lot, Gigi.” Crystal makes like she’s going to grab Gigi’s hand but seems to think better of it, resting her arm on the trim seal instead. “Not- not just as a friend. I really, I don’t want to fuck our friendship up if I do something really stupid. This probably won’t work, you know?”

Gigi stares dumbly, huffing a breath. Crystal avoids her gaze, clicks her tongue once as if making a decision. It feels like an eternity has passed in silence before she fixes her gaze on Gigi’s face again, with so much intensity Gigi shivers.

“I would like to try, though?” Crystal says. Her voice cracks on the last word, and she runs a hand through her hair, twirling the strands between her fingers like she always does when she’s stressed.

“I’d- like that,” Gigi swallows, trying to keep the excited tremor out of her voice when she responds. Her words come out choppy and blunt. “If you’re sure.”

Crystal grabs her instead of answering.

Gigi hits her head on the car frame, and Crystal’s hands tangle into her hair. The kiss is clumsy, their foreheads knocking. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gigi is straining to lean out the window, the metal of the car door digging into her ribs. Crystal’s teeth sink into her lip and she hisses, pulls Crystal even closer against the cool steel in retaliation, trying to close the gap.

When they part, it’s only because Gigi needs to breathe. Her entire body is thrumming like it might combust.

“Do you- was that okay? For you?” Crystal asks sheepishly. She wipes the corners of her lips, cleaning up the smudges.

“Okay? Fuck, Crystal, I’ve been dreaming of that since forever,” Gigi admits, breathless. “Are you sure?”

“You keep saying that.” Crystal offers her a lopsided grin. “Don’t ask me again, I might chicken out.”

“Oh my god,” Gigi laughs, relief swimming in her gut. Adrenaline buzzes up her spine, making her dizzy. “Oh my god, you suck. Shut up.”

“Just get out of the car,” Crystal shakes her head, biting back a smile. She slaps the roof of the car. “I wanna kiss you some more.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Crystal scurries backwards so that Gigi has enough room to open the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

Under the artificial lights, Crystal looks messy, skin tinted yellow.

The lighting makes the pinks of her blush clownish and the dips of her contour into unforgiving brown streaks. Her foundation is cakey on her forehead from wearing it all night, mascara muddy around her eyes.

Gigi thinks this is the most beautiful she’s ever looked.

“Stay the night?” Crystal suggests.

“As long as you won’t ignore me in the morning.” Gigi teases, because she doesn’t trust herself not to accept the offer embarrassingly fast otherwise.

Crystal just rolls her eyes. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” Gigi says proudly. “Can I steal snacks from your pantry? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, but that’s cause you were too busy glaring at me halfway across the room to eat at the party,” Crystal says.

Gigi just hums. Part of her is relieved at how normal this all is. Part of her knows she shouldn’t even be surprised. They’ve always been Crystal and Gigi, and a few kisses aren’t going to change that.

Her lungs feel like they’re full of glitter, and she taps Crystal’s chin, signaling for another kiss. Crystal’s tongue tastes like stale liquor and Gigi feels drunk off of it, the feeling of Crystal so close to her and knowing that Crystal won’t run this time. Knowing that Crystal is hers.

She’s been waiting five long years for this and regrets nothing.

“What’re you thinking about?” Crystal links her arm with Gigi’s easily, their shoulders bumping.

“Nothing,” Gigi answers simply. “This was a good start to summer.”

“Yeah,” Crystal agrees, in that way of hers where she doesn’t say much but says everything all at once. “It was.”

[dakotarrabideaulove]

In The Beginning. Fanfiction Ch. 1 Far Cry 5

Have you ever felt the gush of warm blood on your hands... Under your fingertips... The stain that coats the pale flesh crimson? 

 In Hope County, Many people have... Usually it wasn't at a young age.. Older if anything. This teenager had them beat.. by many years. 

Our story began like any other.. We were born, We live.. We die. Today it's not like that, It's different... Something a bit.. colder, Emptier. In Hope County there had been new people starting to move in because of a new and uprising church that called itself.. Eden's Gate.

Now for many people this church was a cult.. Unlike any other. Torturing... Killing.. Kidnapping people right and left. So what any person protecting it's people would do. The sheriff's office went to confront them.. But they had a shadow of sorts with them.

This female was about 18-20 years old.. Hardly a teenager but still a young adult at that. There was something... strange about her.

 She carried herself more like a shell, An empty carcass lacking and devoid of emotion, Eyes casted down like a dog.

Something was haunting... about those empty, sharp, grey iridescent she called eyes. It was as if they told their own story. The female was 5'3 in height, 150 lbs lucky if soaking wet. 

 She carried a hunting knife strapped to her thigh, Most clothes consisted of black or camo.

Messy chocolate locks brushed back into a tight ponytail and braided. The braid was wrapped up with a rubber band into a bun. Pale, soft lips graced her pale features as did her high cheek bones. This female of course was new and would be overseeing her very first arrest.

Of course along with Deputy Hudson, Sheriff Whitehorse, Federal Agent Burke.. and another Deputy. Though the tension was... thick on this day. It was a colder night than usual.. While the others were chatting on the airplane her mind was.. focused elsewhere.

It wasn't until she heard a female voice snapping at her. "Look alive, Kid." She turned her head slowly staring at Hudson.

 Lacking a response but seeming to pay attention. As they landed she could tell the people who lived here were... Not welcoming in the least.

As much as she could see... Guns. Scruffy looking people with intense fire power. She herself did not carry such things since she wasn't certified... yet. Slowly each person climbed out of the helicopter, As Burke lead the others, She lingered behind being a bit.. slower.

Taking in her surroundings... The buildings... The smell of the burning wood.. The sounds of the dog's barking in the distance.. 

 Something here sent a chill up her spine, Swallowing back bile the female kept trudging on through a set of large metal gates.

The words on the gate etched into her mind.. "Eden's Gate." She didn't believe in god.. Not after...everything she's been through. No god would allow someone like her to a beautiful life. Not that she ever believed... Shaking off the thought to catch up with the others.

They made their way towards a large white church.. It was strange... The paint was peeling.. It seemed run down but there was this.. feeling coming from it. 

 She couldn't place it... The feeling was familiar... She wasn't sure if she liked that or not.

"If we do this.. We do it my way. Calmly.. and Quietly." Sheriff Whitehorse told Burke. He seemed uneasy as did the others. As they exchanged pleasantries her mind was.. elsewhere. As their hands touched the doors you could hear the singing. She flinched... Christian music.

Those songs traumatized her all too well... She felt her hands slowly become clammy... Balling her hands into fists the girl remained... silent. 

 As Burke and Whitehorse slowly opened the doors and walked in, Each person followed... She could barely see past them.

Not that she wanted to.. As they walked further in each follower clenched a gun in their hands, She swallowed harshly as her throat dried up. Each step was all eyes on them and it made her... Uneasy... VERY uneasy..

Joseph kept preaching.. His voice growing louder.. The voices were muddled together until Burke snapped. "Joseph Seed you are under arrest." 

 Joseph's calm demeanor as he spoke and riled his people. "There they are... The locusts in our garden." The yelling only grew louder..

People anxiously rising in anger.. Shouting.. Blocking the way to their leader.. Joseph Seed. She could barely see him being in the back but.. His voice...

 It resonated through her body.. Like ice cold wind blowing through her.. She felt like someone could see inside of her..

The fear... grew. It was suffocating.. Paralyzing even. The Deputy had leaned over giving her a nudge and a glance as if checking in on her.

She shook her head... words lost in transition.. As they argued and soon it calmed down and all was.. quiet.

Joseph soon calmed his people.. Ushering them out the door. "Go... Go. God will not let them take me. I saw when the lamb opened the first seal..." She bit her lip sharply watching Rook step forward, Hesitantly she moved up closer with Rook..

Something in her.. She knew it was dangerous. "Cuff this son of a bitch Rookie." Burke's voice cut through the silence. Rook's hand had barely made it to the cuffs before mine had lashed out.

 My pale hand.. clenched around Rook's wrist.. The gaze turned to me.

Burke's wasn't one of happiness either. The clank of his heavy boots turned and he huffed. "The hell do you think you're doing kid? We came here for a reason.. Rookie. Cuff him." 

 My grip only tightened on Rook, My intense gaze meeting there's and shaking my head.. No.

At that moment.. It was as if time had stopped. Burke stepped forward and before she blinked there was a loud sound....  

The male had raised his hand.. 

and slapped her. 

His sharp voice snapping. "Snap out of it. You're acting like a coward." Her head hung in silence. 

Her grip.. Unyielding as Joseph watched the scene unfold.. His brothers and sister in the back with solemn faces.. 

All except for one.. 

John. 

His face was scrunched up in disgust.. and anger. 

 The small females frame was... shaking, Her eyes casted at the floor.

It was sharp the blow to her face.. It was familiar.. 

The child screaming.. begging... blow after blow.. The fear.. The anger.. the pain.

 It came surging back like it was a fresh wound opened up for fun. The girls frame was shaken as Burke closed the space between the two.

"I don't know why they sent you along with me.. Clearly you aren't cut out for this.." He spat. 

That's all it took.. 

The next few seconds changed what should have been the most terrifying moment in history. Her hand dropped Rook's and slid down to her thigh.

The petite hand curled around the large hunting knife. Her snap unclicked and like that she swung. 

She cut the males neck wide open.. With this Blank... Empty stare that could cut glass. 

 As Burke dropped to his knees cupping his throat, A desperate gaze to each of his comrades.

Soon before dropping onto the floor... As the blood pooled under her boots, The knife tight in her grip... Blood splattered on her face.. The silence in the room was deafening, All that was audible was the anxiety ridden breathing she was doing.. as she was shaking.

There was.. No remorse, No regret... Nothing. 

A chuckle.. but from who? It was thick, heavy chuckle at that. 

She didn't pick her head up. She met nobody's gaze as the Sheriff and Hudson exchanged glances. Each one of them stepping back slowly.

Nobody stepped up to defend Burke. Rook went to reach out towards her and it was like electricity. Once the hand met the flesh she jerked back as if being struck a second time.

 The look was one of.. an animal. An untamed.. Enraged.. Fearful animal. Rook had no words to offer.

Slowly the Sheriff's voice called out to Rook. "Rookie... We need to leave...Now." Urgency in the males voice.. 

She knew why.. 

She just murdered a comrade in cold blood with no remorse. She didn't mean to- Fight or Flight took over.. It was an accident..

Soon the tears that were filling her eyes spilled over down her face. Choked on the swelled lump in her throat as they streaked down her cheeks..

Remorse...

 As her gaze lifted to see the others quickly rushing out the doors... leaving her there... With Joseph Seed and his family

The grip on the knife soon slipped as it clattered to the floor. Each muscle gave out as she dropped to her knees. 

 She could hear the thumping of the boots.. As large pale hands reached down to brush her cheeks... She could not pick her head up she felt.. She had no strength.

The rough hand slid under her chin raising her head.. Those deep.. blue eyes staring right through her made her feel... helpless. 

  "Do not be afraid.. my child. I'm here to help you... To save you from your pain... To relieve you of your burden.."

His voice was silky smooth... All she could do was shake her head.. 

This wasn't real... 

It couldn't be real.. 

 She just brutally murdered a man on their floor and they want to help her..? 

This... has to be a dream... Right?