#because i absolutely lost my shit when he jumped up on the table holy jesus fckn christ

[philiponmycracker]

[waithyuck]

PUPPY

pairing: werewolf!lee jeno x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4k

warnings: mature content, excessive explicit language, sexy times (meaning sexual content), I used the word ‘penis’ ONCE and only ONCE, mentions of a knot, knotting (I’m sorry), slight impreg kink, cumming inside, unprotected sex, blood, aggressive behavior, other stupid cliche werewolf things that are most definitely prob in hundreds of fics, jeno does NOT like being called a puppy even tho he’s called it oNCe

a/n: the first release of the dreamie halloweenie series! I hope this one sets the tone for what’s to come 👀 sorry to anyone who hates werewolf cliches and for the extreme lack of any substance or plot lmaoooo anyway I hope y’all enjoy reading

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~10/10/2020~

~~~~

“are you cool with jeno staying the night?” your brother shot out, startling you as he spoke, not even looking at you as he spread too much peanut butter on a slice of bread nestled in his hand.

you looked up from where you were sitting at the kitchen table to face your brother, not saying anything in reply as you got lost in your thoughts.

jeno was an oddball. he was nice and he wasn’t creepy or even that weird, he just had his moments that were just well, odd. he was your brother’s friend of about six years; they met in their second year of high school and have been inseparable ever since. because of that, you have also been surrounded by jeno in all that time as well.

in the first couple years, you didn’t notice anything strange about him. he seemed like a normal and healthy young teenage boy. he was incredibly handsome, so of course your poor soul developed a small crush on him that only grew as the years progressed.

since you paid such close attention to him, you could pick out the oddities in his behavior occasionally pretty well. just from that, you’ve deducted that his sense of smell was almost god-like, like he could smell things that a normal person couldn’t.

now, you supposed that it wasn’t that weird that he had a good sniffer; there were probably tons of other people in the world with the same ability...but it wasn't just his sense of smell that had you curious.

sometimes he would act strangely at night; not often, but enough to have you questioning it. he would either disappear completely without a word or come up with a half-assed excuse to leave and then run away like a frightened animal.

it was just plain odd...and you couldn't get over it, no matter how much you tried to will yourself not to think about it.

snapping out of your stupor, you felt your heart jump at the thought of jeno coming over, even though he’s been here countless times, but you didn’t let it show and you shrugged your shoulders.

“it’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” you stated truthfully, looking down to pick at your nails. “you would have just said he was coming over anyway if I said no.”

your brother smiled at you, beaming as he placed the bread down and patted your head.

“you know me so well, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes, shoving him away. “yeah,” you retorted, slightly annoyed. “It’s not like you’re my brother, or anything.”

he didn't say anything further and you left him alone with his sandwich, getting up and making your way to your room where you could successfully hide for the rest of the night. before your cold make it far, you heard your brother yell something about jeno coming around 8, but you didn't say anything back and just minded your own business all the way upstairs to your room.

you pathetically holed yourself up in your dark room for about four hours, only coming out to quietly sneak to the bathroom and then you would go back into hiding once again.

even when you got word that there was pizza downstairs, you ignored it and continued to watch horror story narrations on youtube.

you just couldn't deal with being in the presence of your long time crush today. it took everything in your power to stop yourself from going downstairs and being potentially spotted, but you managed to pull through successfully and be a pathetic hermit in your room.

it was around 3 a.m. when you were finally finished with watching youtube videos, and you felt gross. you supposed that the two boys would be sound asleep by now, considering your brother never ever sacrificed his beauty sleep for anyone. you grabbed some clean clothes and gathered them in your arms before trudging tiredly to the bathroom, swinging open the door without a second thought, not realizing that the light was already on when you got there.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest as your eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“holy fuck!” you screeched as you took in the sight of jeno, in the middle of the bathroom completely naked, stroking his painfully hard cock right before your eyes. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the show and you accidentally discovered that there was something not right about the way it looked...

your mouth fell agape and you barely heard him gasp loudly before trying to cover himself with the closest towel.

“jesus christ, y/n!” he yelled back, both of you not even considering your sleeping brother that was just three rooms over.

your eyes stayed glued to where he was covering himself with the towel, still thinking about the oddity of his dick. it seemed to be swelling at the base, which was definitely not normal for a human penis to do.

“what the fuck is wrong with your dick?” you blurted out unapologetically, causing a blush to cover his entire face and neck. you tore your eyes from his covered crotch to look at his eyes, which were now a shocking shade of bright yellow. you jumped back, dropping your clothes on the floor as you watched him breath heavily, most likely trying to calm himself down the same as you.

“oh my god, what the actual fuck is happening?” you murmured out loud, your eyes wide and never leaving his own as he stood silently in front of you. “am i dreaming? am i fucking high?” you tried to reason out as to why you were seeing what you're seeing, but jeno didn't give you much time to think before he spoke.

“you’re not dreaming,” his voice came out low, almost like a growl, and you felt your heart freeze up. “I dunno if you’re high...but what you're seeing is as real as it gets.”

your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping out of water, trying to formulate the words to say next. your brain literally couldn't think of anything except his abnormally large and weird dick.

“okay…” you trailed off, your hands coming up to rest over your racing heart. “so then I’ll ask again: what the fuck is up with your dick??” and then you quickly added, “and your eyes??? I'm so confused right now, jeno.”

he sighed heavily and turned around, giving you a full view of his ass before he gathered his clothes to get dressed and cover himself. you really should have looked away, but your eyes wouldn’t listen to your internal screaming no matter how hard you physically tried to stop staring.

when he pulled his shorts on he finally turned to face you once more, forgoing a shirt much to your dismay (but really, you were dying on the inside at the sight of his abs). he stared at you for a second, his eyes back to their natural deep brown color.

“...there's a lot we need to talk about.” was all he said before grabbing your wrist in his scorchingly warm hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and down to your room. you didn’t protest and you let him practically drag you all the way there, closing the door behind him and guiding you to plop down on your bed. jeno walked to the opposite side of the room, distancing himself from you as much as possible.

“um..so,” he started hesitantly, trying to form his words correctly. “I’m uh, I'm a werewolf.”

your eyes bulged out of your head in disbelief, but you didn't say anything in reply. you both stared at each other across the space of your bedroom, not uttering a single word.

at first you were ready to call him crazy; there was absolutely no way that it was true. but then you thought about his eyes, his sense of smell...and then thought about his cock...holy shit wait, was that a fucking knot??

“um, yeah, it was…” you heard him say suddenly. you jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to reply. did you say that out loud by accident?

“you did.”

okay fuck, you needed to stop thinking and pull yourself together. what were you supposed to say to that? ‘oh cool, your cock has a knot and you’re a fucking werewolf, that’s super, jeno!’

jeno went on to explain the ins and outs of being a werewolf to you over the next twenty minutes, the small pink blush on his cheeks never truly leaving as he went into detail about everything. he even corrected certain cliches that were not true, a scowl making its way to his features with each inaccuracy you brought up.

“so...my brother doesn’t know?” you questioned quietly, looking down at your lap.

“no one knows besides you and my family.” he confirmed, and you looked up again to see him lean against the wall behind his back, eyes gazing sharply at you.

you panicked slightly, thinking that holy crap, now that you know, he's gonna have to kill you so the secret doesn't get out.

“oh my god,” you whimpered out, “are you going to kill me now?”

you watched his eyes widen before he choked, coughing violently before composing himself. he straightened his posture, but still didn't make any move toward you, still keeping his distance.

“what?!” he practically shouted, startling you. “of course not! why would I do that??”

you felt your face grow hot and you looked away once again, wringing your hands together on your lap. you shrugged, murmuring quietly, “i dunno...I thought you'd kill me to keep the secret, well, you know, a secret…”

you heard him sigh exasperatedly before hearing his soft voice grace your ears from across the room.

“I don't kill people, y/n.” he sounded slightly sad, and you then felt bad about assuming something so terrible of him. “the only time I kill is when my instincts become too much to control, and I snap.” his head hung low, but he quickly added. “but I’ve never actually killed a person, even if my instincts were screaming at me to.”

you tried to wrap your mind around what his wolf instincts were like; he only briefly touched on that topic earlier, seeming like he didn't want to talk about it too much. you being yourself, of course you had to pry.

“so like, what you’re saying is,” you started, your hand cupping your chin in thought as you pondered over your thoughts. “that if you were to like, hypothetically, snap right now and go all feral, you would want to kill me?” the question came out inflected as a statement, but you nonetheless awaited his answer patiently as you took in the sight of his face going through about five different emotions in the short span of a couple seconds.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor while clenching his fists. “I don’t think killing you would be my first instinct,” he looked up at you, his eyes blazing a slight yellow again as he seemingly stared into your soul. “...if you catch my drift.”

at first you were completely confused, not sure what other instincts he could express while being feral, but then it all clicked and it had your body heating up at the thought.

“oh.” you simply retorted, your eyes glazing over at the implication of him pinning you down and taking you as he pleased. “oh, fuck. you’re fuckin’ serious?”

his eyes were dark as he drank you in, his nostrils flaring slightly as he subtly sniffed the air between the both of you. dear god, you hoped that he couldn’t smell the sudden arousal that consumed you. you watched his eyes glow into a bright yellow and you felt your instincts screaming at you to run, but you held his gaze as he let a low growl escape his mouth.

“y/n,” he said, low and strained as he tried to fight his animal instincts. “you need to leave if you don’t want this, right now.” his words were final, no room for questioning.

you briefly tried to think it over; what would actually happen if you stayed and let him have you? you could probably die, first and foremost, but you shook that thought away even though it was a very real and serious possibility. you couldn’t deny your arousal at the whole thing, being taken like a bitch in heat by a guy you’ve been thirsting over for a while now. you may not get the chance to fuck a werewolf again, so you quickly made your decision.

“I’m…” you trailed off, dragging your gaze down to his neck and collarbones where you could make out the sweat forming on his perfect skin. “I’m staying, jeno.” you spoke softly to him, watching his brow furrow in confusion before smoothing out again.

you made your way to him and he stiffened up, watching your every move like a predator as you tentatively stopped in front of his panting form. reaching a hand up, you caressed his face, your breathing shaky as you leaned in closer.

“you can have me, puppy.” you threw in the last little jab with that sudden nickname just for fun, your heart soaring at the sound of the deep growl he let out upon hearing it. you fought the smile off your face as he practically pounced on you, pushing you over to the bed and pinning your body underneath his in one swift movement.

“I’m a puppy, huh?” he questioned darkly, his glowing eyes roaming over your face before his head dipped down to nose at your throat. you whimpered softly as his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin, earning a satisfied growl from him.

you felt your shorts stick to your core from how insanely soaked you had become, and you grew hot at the idea of him pulling them down to find that you were, in fact, pantieless. he had your wrists pinned down against the mattress, not allowing you to touch him much to your annoyance. you tried to struggle against his supernaturally strong hold, but was met with a deep snarl in response. you immediately grew pliant underneath him out of pure instinct.

he pulled back, sharp canines prominent in his mouth as he fixed you with his glowing stare, red swirling with yellow in his bright irises.

“don’t fucking move,” he spat, his voice coming out low and gutteral, causing a flood of your own arousal to escape you down below. his nostrils flared for the second time that night, and he breathed in deeply at the scent of your wet and begging cunt. “be a good girl and take what I give you.”

the statement was final, and you barely had time to nod before he was tearing your t-shirt in two, biting the skin of your shoulder. his sharper teeth did not sink deep into your flesh, but when he drug the canines across your skin, you felt them rip you open. you let out what could be considered a poorly concealed scream, but it came forth as more of a moan as you felt hot blood trickle down your arm.

your shirt was in ribbons, and he looked extremely pleased as he took in the beautiful sight of your naked breasts, no bra in his way. he watched as your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, and he released your wrist to gently trail both of his hand over your body.

“your tits are so pretty,” he murmured, diving down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. he worked your other boob with one of his hands, kneading it and flicking your sensitive nipple.

your back arched into his touch, and you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible in fear of your brother hearing you.

he suckled hard; nibbling your nipple and dragging his teeth along it, causing shivers to run up your spine and your core to clench around nothing. your shorts were without a doubt ruined at this point.

your nails scratched down his back and he continued to ravage your chest, alternating between both of your breasts and teasing your sensitive buds with no remorse. it felt like hours of play, but eventually he pulled back to roughly grip the fabric of your shorts and tear them down your legs, exposing your dripping core to his hungry eyes.

you whined as he stared at you, reaching your arms out towards his own pants, wanting to see his cock again now that you were laying there, desperate and pouting for it.

his eyes shot to your face, smirking as he watched your brow furrow and your lips purse, your hands trying to grab at him from your place on the bed.

he didn’t allow you to pull his shorts down for him; instead he hooked his own thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down slowly, exposing his cock inch by inch before it finally sprung out, slapping against his stomach proudly.

your mouth watered at the sight of him once again and you moved to try to sit up, but didn’t get very far. he grasped your non-bleeding shoulder and roughly shoved you against the mattress once again, not saying anything. the stare he gave you oozed enough dominance for you to clearly get the message that he was trying to send.

jeno didn’t waste any time spreading your thighs open, two of his fingers immediately swiping through your embarrassingly wet slit before easing inside your tight hole. the stretch burned at first, considering he was starting you off with two fingers instead of one, but you welcomed the slight pain that mixed with the pleasure of him reaching up with his thumb to graze over your throbbing clit.

jeno thrusted his fingers into you gently at first, gradually picking up the pace as he went along. before you knew it he was adding a third finger, stretching your more than you’ve been stretched before.

you gasped at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as you cried out while he started finger fucking you with earnest.

“shhh, baby,” he said quietly, his movements never ceasing. “just gotta open you up for me, make sure you can take my knot.”

you held back another moan at that, thinking of how his cock would stretch you open, and how full you would feel with his knot nestled inside you.

he abruptly pulled his fingers from you, causing your back to arch again as you protested the loss of stimulation. his strength amazed you, and with one hand on your belly he pinned you down completely, sucking on the fingers of his other lewdly while stating you in the eyes.

after licking his fingers clean, (which caused heat to crawl it’s way down your belly), he kissed you sloppily on the mouth once again before gripping your waist and roughly flipping you over onto your knees.

your chest was flush against the mattress as well as your face, and your hips were lifted high in the air and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he positioned himself behind you.

his nails drug down your sides and he gripped one of your hips with his hand, using his other to position himself at your leaking entrance. you wiggled your hips in anticipation, whining as he drug the head through your folds before slowly sinking inside you.

your fingers gripped the pillows as he bottomed out, his knot already slowly forming at the base of his shaft. it stretched you ever so slightly at the entrance of your core, and you whimpered out in pleasure as he started thrusting in and out.

the small form of his knot caught on your entrance with each precise thrust, and you were finding it very difficult to stay quiet. jeno’s breaths were heavy and every so often he would let out a soft growl as he felt his tip pound gently into your cervix.

your small whimpers were short and staggered, escaping your mouth with each thrust, which spurred him on to create a faster and harsher pace. he leaned over your back and didn’t relent as his cock punished you pussy, and when you let out a cry that was just a little bit too loud, he shoved your face right into your pillow to silence you.

“shut up,” he panted, a rumble low in his chest following his words. “just fucking take it.”

you nodded your head in response to the best of your ability, biting your lip to keep quiet as the presence of his hand left the back of your head.

he seemed to be getting close now, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge as well. it was uncommon for you to cum without any clitoral stimulation, and you were amazed at his ability to reach all of the most pleasurable spots inside you.

you felt your stomach tightening up and you gasped sharply when you felt his cock press right against your sweet spot, making you reach your high almost instantly.

you clamped around him, barely registering that he buried himself completely inside you and was now stretching you to the max with his fully developed knot. the pain of the stretch only intensified your orgasm, which had you screaming into your pillow to muffle your cries of ecstasy.

jeno growled loudly as he came shortly after, biting the back of your neck aggressively and painting your walls with his cum, emptying completely inside of you while his knot kept a single drop from escaping.

he withdrew his teeth from you, surprised that it didn’t break your skin, and gently moved the two of you to lay on your sides as you basked in the afterglow of what just occurred.

your chest heaved as you fought to catch you breath, you pussy still stretched to its limit as you laid with him. you reached an arm around to caress his face, a small show of affection as you smiled in bliss.

after catching your breath, you sat in silence for a bit, just bathing in each other’s warmth, before you had to go and open your big mouth again.

“so your knot is supposed to like, plug me up?” you questioned, your voice still sounding slightly out of breath as you panted. “to make sure I get like, hypothetically, pregnant or whatever?”

he groaned in response and gripped your hips tightly, his hips bucking and causing his still painfully hard cock to sharply jab against your sensitive insides, making you yelp.

“dear god, y/n,” he whined, his nails digging into your skin. “don’t say things like that, fuck.”

“oh, so you like that idea?” you teased, turning your head to try to look at him to the best of your ability considering your current position. “fucking me full of babies?”

his eyes stared down at you intensely, the color of his irises brightening up as he growled lowly at you. he suddenly gripped your hips and turned you both over, his body completely laying on your own as you were pressed against the mattress on your stomach.

“keep talking, y/n,” he growled out lowly, his hips pressing tightly against your ass, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. “I’ll fuck you again right now, and give you my fucking babies.”

he couldn’t see you, but you smiled contently, preparing yourself for another intense round with this beast of a man. there was a small chance that you would actually get pregnant, considering the IUD you had…but the thought of it had you ready to go at it again.

in some fucked up way, you were content with this, and you threw your hips up to grind back against him, grinning even wider as he pinned your body down even harder.

jeno fucked you like an animal until the sun came up, and your brother was none the wiser.

[hotdamnhunnam]

Will You Just Fuck Me Already

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2 of Will Miller edging the absolute fuck out of you!! 😋 Recommend reading Part 1 first, for context – Part 2 jumps straight into Will working his wicked magic between your legs... (though the first several paragraphs are devoted to a dinner date flashback inspired by the below gif because this man’s forearms are PURE FUCKING SEX 🥵)

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, punishment, dom!Will Request: This delightful anon request based on a premise from my Ironhead Imagine Ideas list!

Word Count: ~2.2k

... Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]

Will you just fuck me already...

Your eyes keep on begging him silently. Even though you know that dreaming of such a privilege is straight up silly.

Will thinks it’s adorable, really, how you thought he’d be making your punishment so quick and easy. He continues to smirk down at you as you whimper and quiver, every cell in your body wrapped tight around his little finger, already an absolute mess for Will Miller. Spread out on the bed, naked and dripping wet. Aching and desperate and needy.

There’s a look in his eyes that makes you want to die. Blue flames glowing in his gorgeous gaze, set ablaze as he contemplates all of the ways he is going to make you pay. Honestly might start a fire between your damn thighs. Jesus Christ. 

You remember the same look had been on your fiancé’s handsome face during your recent date, all throughout the long dinner. Especially during the soup course, when you had been playing with your spoon and spilling on purpose, to slurp all the creamy white drops from your fingers. Will had just sat and watched as you shamelessly stirred up his thirst, his luscious lips curved up in just the slightest shadow of a smirk. 

Reaching his right hand back, to rub his neck. Sitting there in his dark rugged button-down shirt—probably too casual, for such a fancy restaurant, but no one seemed to mind at all, because he made it work, totally nonchalant and natural. Always looks so good it hurts.

When Will started doing that neck-rubbing thing... it was no accident. He knows that you’re obsessed with his forearms like nobody’s business. You’ve got a whole kink. Masterpieces of muscle all sheathed in smooth skin, radiating such strength, with those visible veins running over the length... all that shit. 

Watching him pull that trick out of his rolled-up sleeves, you almost lost it, for a minute. But you didn’t. Kept your cool and went ahead torturing him on your own terms. Unable to believe, yet so proud and relieved, that you had somehow overcome the power of his perfect forearms.

... But now the tables have most definitely turned. You’re no longer the one subjecting him to torment in the middle of a restaurant. Now that dinner’s done, and Will has you back home right where he wants—now he’s the one dishing out punishment. The fire in his eyes, watching you where you lie, so hot it fucking burns... damn do you have a lesson to learn.

“Remember what you did? At the restaurant?” he asks as his hand slides right over your aching wet cunt, barely touching your clit.  “Dripping creamy white stuff from your lips... slurping every drop off of your fingertips...”

Shit. Fucking shit. You respond with a shuddering moan and a shake of your hips.

Will just chuckles maliciously down at your pussy as it throbs and drips. “You must’ve known how hard it was for me to watch you like that, hmm? Out there in public where I couldn’t cum?”

As he says that last word then, he finally grazes your sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb. Just as soon as the touch lands, it’s gone. Back to grabbing your thighs with both hands, spreading them open wide to make way for the war that he knows he’s already won.

“Oughta know you’re not the only one who can pull some nefarious shit with your fingers,” he grunts, all dark and dominant. Of course you’re not the only one. Of fucking course. Will Miller’s fingers are infinitely more wicked than yours. “You should’ve known that this would happen after dinner.”

Well, you know now—that’s for damn sure. He’s made it crystal clear that he’s the fucking winner, and just how he’s gonna punish you for being such a sinner.

He continues, his every word making your toes curl, committed to ruining you. “...should’ve known what kind of punishment I’d have in store, to make you pay for being such a naughty little girl. When all you wanted was to get me all worked up, so I’d come home and fuck you hard and rough, right up against the wall. That’s what you love. What you live for. Deep down we both know that you’re nothing but a desperate fucking whore.”

Oh holy fuck—his dirty talk hits even harder than his cock, and you can’t think straight anymore. Simply cannot... he’s such a motherfucking god...

Hovering over the heat of your sex, he then lets go of one of your legs, slapping your thigh when you try to close them on instinct. A desperate attempt to create some friction and to scratch this impossible itch.

Needless to say, that doesn’t please your fiancé. “Keep your legs open, bitch. Don’t you dare move an inch.”

Ugh, you are so fucking dead... you can feel your hands tremble and twitch....

Of course Will notices that shit. “And keep those goddamn hands above your head. Don’t make me tie you to the bed.”

The filthy slut inside of you would fucking like that, to be honest, but that’s not something you’d ever dare confess. Not now when Will is so dead set on punishing your ass.

“All night long... you got me going while I couldn’t fuck you, like I wanted to, until we got back home... working me up when I couldn’t cum...” he rasps, keeping one of your thighs in his grasp, tight and strong. Slowly rubbing across your pussy with the heel of his palm. “Now don’t you think it’s only fair I do the same? I’ll show you how to play that game.”

“Will...” you gasp, senses so far gone that you’re stupid enough to say his name.

He makes sure you won’t dare make that mistake again. “Next time you say my name—next time you speak, without my permission, you dumb disobedient cunt—I swear I’m fucking done. Swear I won’t let you cum for a week. Understand?”

You honestly can’t even with this total god of a man...? Somehow you force yourself to nod and bite your tongue, your grip on consciousness just barely hanging on.

For once, you’re finally giving Will just what he wants: your wholehearted submission and obedience. A wordless promise to abide by his command no matter what. “Yeah, just like that. Keep your mouth shut. While I dish out the punishment that you deserve for being such a naughty fucking slut.”

And then the punishment begins, and your whole fucking world just ends. Honestly not sure when you will ever be able to function again.

Will Ironhead Miller really fucking knows just how to use his fingers. He knows your body literally inside out. Knows how to tease you with a touch that fills your hole and feeds your soul and lingers, long after it’s gone. To give you everything you want, and never knew you couldn’t live without. Until the day that he first claimed your cunt and took you as his own. Without a shadow of a doubt. 

Knows just the way to stroke your clit, shove knuckles deep inside your slit, knows all the spots to hit, to push you past your limits, get you squirting like a spout. In ways that only he can do. Even while brutally reminding you, right now, that you don’t get to fucking cum until he tells you it’s allowed. You know you’re not supposed to speak or make a sound, yet you can’t help but moan out loud.

And all the while, Will now silently reminds you with a pussy-slaying smile... he hasn’t even started using his delicious dirty mouth.

“Remember what a bitch you were during dessert?” he whispers, twisting fingers deep inside you in a way that makes it almost physically impossible to fight the urge to squirt. “Putting on a fucking porno with that tongue of yours, you filthy fucking whore? Slobbering all over that spoon the way you swallow down my cock? You knew you were making me hard as a rock. So hard it fucking hurt.”

Yes, you remember. You remember taking pleasure putting him through so much torture. Knowing just how bad he wanted you, the way he sat back in his seat because he couldn’t take his eyes off of the view, watching you sensuously savor every bit of the thick, creamy, white dessert that you had ordered. The way his slick pink tongue flicked out between his lips. His whole expression screaming bitch, you’re gonna fucking pay for this.

You knew full well that he would live up to that promise. But you just thought that he would punish you with his ferocious dick, unable to resist, hurrying home to hammer into you the way he always wanted. Immediate rough sex really seemed like the only option, to be honest.

... Now you know just how fucking wrong you were. And Will is gonna make sure that you never pull that shit again as long as you’re together. Gonna put you through a night of punishment that you’ll always remember.

“Thought you could tease me with that tongue? You thought you’d won?” he taunts, bloody murder in his bright blue eyes, while he murmurs through openmouthed kisses all over your soft inner thighs, then moves dangerously close to your cunt. Tonight you may have started the war in the restaurant—but he is the one who decides when it’s done. “Bitch, I could do this all night long. Till you know you were dead fucking wrong.”

From the moment his tongue hits your wet cunt, the very first second... it takes every last bit of strength you can summon, to stop yourself from coming fucking undone. When Will Miller goes down, he goes to fucking town. He’s not fucking around. 

Starts with sensuous licks, slow and slick, slurping up all the juices that drip from your wet pussy lips, while his savage hands anchor your hips in his dominant grip. Like he’s back from a war in the desert and you’re the first water he’s found. Like your cunt is a goddamn oasis in which he is fated to drown.

Then his talented tongue and loving lips start swirling and sucking all over your sensitive clit, and whatever remains of your sanity suddenly slips. You have no clue how much longer you can do this. God, you wish you were stronger, to fight off your hungers—you want nothing more than to follow Will’s orders, forever. Surrender. Submit. Don’t deserve to take pleasure, until he permits. You live only to do as he bids. This is why you exist...

So that’s the truth to which you cling, as he keeps on doing his thing. The closer Will brings you right up to the edge, the more deeply and dutifully you’ve learned your lesson. That you’ve not yet earned such a sweet fucking privilege. Not till he grants you that blessing.

“Taste so fucking good, princess...” he moans into your soaking wetness. He seems truly in shock at how long you’ve been able to hold off, sincerely impressed. Sounds so crazy in love, with the taste and the way you obey. “Sweet as always. But better than ever when you do as I fucking say.”

If there’s anything hotter than Will Miller dishing out punishment... surely it’s Will Miller dishing out praise. You could listen to your fiancé whispering these sweet nothings for days.

“You look so fucking pretty,” he says, staring up at your breathless face with his adoring gaze, tongue still exploring you in all the most mind-blowing ways. “Such a perfect little slut for me. You learned your lesson, babe? Think you’ve earned this big cock in your tight, juicy, sweet fucking pussy? Want me to just fuck you already?”

Holy fuck—reeling from what you heard, but not sure whether your master wants you to answer with words... you just whimper out loudly, all needy and weak and unsteady...

So he gives you permission to speak, finally. “Go ahead, baby. Tell me.”

Oh, thank God. Now at last you express all your innermost thoughts. “Yes—yes, sir. Will, I want you to fuck me forever.”

Maybe that sentence doesn’t make sense, but whatever. Fuck sense when you’re fucking Will Miller. The more he fucks you senseless, the better. You’re now fully convinced that you solely exist for his pleasure. His sex is pure fire and nothing can take you higher. So from this moment forward, you just want your sex god of a lover to bend you over, whenever he desires, fuck you every minute of every damn day that you spend together.

You have now learned your lesson and earned your blessing. You will never try to deny him again, ever. As Will settles into position to finally fill you up with the huge cock for which you’ve been so greedy... to finally just fuck you already... you know for sure this is a fuck you will always remember.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this!! As always, would love to hear if you did! 🤗💖

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[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Twenty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut, and a whole mess of fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“C’mere.” You say to him. You sit up slightly. “I want you to like hover over me while I suck on you.”

“Are you sure you want my balls in your face like that?” He chuckles.

“Won’t bother me.”

Harry comes closer to you, and grips the top of your headboard. You grip him in your hand at first, and then put your mouth right on him. He sucks in a breath when he feels your hot, wet mouth around him. Sometimes you think back to when you were younger. You absolutely hated sucking dick. Some guys just had bad hygiene. But you loved doing it for Harry. He really made you see how hot it was to pleasure someone else orally. He also kept things trim and clean, which you very much appreciated.

He rocks against your face, going deeper down your throat. You groan against him, and he grips your headboard tighter. His eyes are screwed shut, trying to picture his dick inside of you where he really wants it. It’s not that he didn’t love it when you blew him, he just wanted to feel how tight you were.

It doesn’t take him long to come down your throat. You swallow up every bit of it, and he climbs off of you. You get up to rinse your mouth out.

“Holy shit!” You scream, and he rushes into in the bathroom to make sure you’re alright. He finds you inspecting the back of your body in the mirror. Your front wasn’t nearly as fucked up. “Jesus, Harry.” You say rubbing a spot on your shoulder. “I look like a leopard.” You start laughing.

“You said I could…”

“I’m not complaining.” You assure him.

“Looks good on you anyways.” He gives you kiss on the cheek and pats your bum. He leaves you to do your thing in the bathroom.

You wash your face and brush your teeth. When you come out of the bathroom you pick up his t-shirt and throw it on over you. He’s sitting up in bed reading.

“Harry, you look so cute in your glasses, have I ever told you that?” He looks at you and smiles.

“Maybe once or twice.” He teases. He finishes the last page of his book and sighs.

“What?” You ask getting into the bed.

“Nothin’, just sad. This was the last book in this series.”

“Did it have a happy ending?”

“As happy as it could be, yeah. It’s my second time readin’ it, still gets to me.” He takes his glasses of and wipes a tear away.

“I wish I liked reading as much as you do. I much prefer television.”

“I just like getting’ lost in the pages. I mean, I read garbage novels, but they’re just so addicting. Has a television show ever moved you to tears?”

“Oh, tons of times. I think TV has made me cry more than film.”

“Really? What shows have made you cry?” He pulls you into his chest and turns the light off. God, you loved pillow talk before bed.

“Okay, don’t laugh, but when I was in high school, and college too, I was really into Glee.”

“That show about the nerds in the acapella club?”

“Yeah.”

“That show made you cry?”

“I think just about every episode in the third season made me cry, and I sobbed during the season finale. To be fair, I was like sixteen.” You giggle. “There were a couple of scripted series on MTV too that made me super emotional.”

“Like what?”

“There was a show called Awkward that just really fired me up. And there was Teen Wolf.”

“Teen Wolf? Isn’t that a movie with Michael J. Fox?”

“Yeah! But then MTV made a show based off the movie, much darker though. It was really good. Well, it got worse as the seasons went on, but I watched through to the end. Same with Awkward.”

“Do you watch anythin’ now that tugs at your heart strings?”

“Um…I really like that show Roswell: New Mexico. I didn’t think I would like it so much, but it got to me. The first season is on Netflix, maybe we could watch it sometime.”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“I used to like live blog and write reviews for the shows I’d watch. I still do sometimes.”

“Where do you blog?”

“On Tumblr mostly.”

“That’s cool that you do that.”

“It’s funny because I hate reading reviews of things. I like to try things out for myself. Oh! Do you watch Stranger Things? That’s a good one. Niall and I always binge watch it together when a new season comes out.”

“That’s right!” He starts laughing. “I remember he like blew me off during the day on the 4th this summer to go meet up with you.”

“That was an incredible binge, if I do say so. Speaking of him, he wants to have a movie night Friday so we can all celebrate our good news. I was thinking of having everyone over here. What do you think?”

“Works for me.” He smiles at you.

//

Your period was a killer this week. There were several times during the week you found yourself on the floor in your office. You had run out of your stash of ibuprofen, and hadn’t had time to get more. You were forced to just suffer in silence. The pain would pass eventually, and then you could get on with it.

Harry was good about not getting on your nerves too much. He was slowly learning what you needed while your hormones were at their peak. Every morning you’d examine your body, almost becoming sad at seeing the marks slowly fade away as they healed. You were incredibly horny, but there wasn’t anything you could do. You’d had sex on your period before, but you certainly weren’t going to let him use his fingers or mouth on you right now. You had contemplated maybe in the shower, but you were afraid of residue. You didn’t tell him this, but you got yourself off a couple times in the shower on your own. You had to, the ache between your legs was just too unbearable.

Your body was trying to tell you something for sure, but your mind tried its best to keep you at bay.

//

You were delighted when your period ended Friday morning, but your stomach felt like shit. The first week of a birth control pack was your least favorite thing, even more so than your period. Your dosage wasn’t even that high, but it still would make you feel like you were going to vomit.

“Anythin’ ya need me t’pick up for tonight? I can do a run to the market before ya get home from work.” Harry says to you sitting up in bed, watching you pick your outfit for the day.

“Think I have everything we need. I have chips and dip, we’ll probably order pizza or something.” You decide on a pair of dark jeans and blouse/blazer combination. You throw your hair up in a high pony, and take a few strands out to frame your face.

“Know what we’re watchin’ yet?”

“Nope.”

“Who’s comin?” You sigh and look at him.

“Harry, I love you, but you’ve reached my capacity for questions this morning, okay?” He blinks at you.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I just feel gross and I’m hormonal. Not a great excuse.”

“One more question.” You nod. “Is Aunt Flow still in town?”

“No she left early this morning, thank god. This was a rougher month.” You sit on the edge of the bed. He places a hand on your thigh.

“Sometimes I wish I could just take all your aches away.” You smile at him.

“You do, in more ways than you know.” You stand up and give him a light kiss. “See you tonight.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

//

You felt better as the work day went on. You were excited to have a little double date with Niall and Sarah. Harry got out of work around 4PM, so he went straight to your apartment. He knew you’d want to have the place ready to go so you could relax when you got home. He fluffed up the pillows on your couch, and folded up the couple of blankets you kept on the back of it. He made sure all of the beer for him and Niall was in the fridge, and he picked up your favorite wine.

You keyed into your apartment around 5:30, and kicked off your shoes. Your nose was pink from the cold air outside. Harry had his legs slung over one of the large chairs you had near the couch. He had his laptop, and was working away. He looked up at you and gave you a smile.

“Hi, love.” He says.

“Hi honey.” You yawn.

“I tidied a bit for ya.” You kiss the top of his head.

“Thank you. M’just gonna go change quick.”

You change into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, and come back out to Harry. He puts his laptop on the coffee table, and gestures for you to come sit with him. You sit in his lap, and rest your head on his shoulder. He rocks you back and forth slowly, and you let out a calming sigh.

“How’s my baby girl today, hm?”

“Tired.” He rubs your back. “But I’m happy to have friends over tonight.” You nuzzle into his neck.

“I bought that wine you really like.”

“Mm.” Is all you muster out as you start to doze off in his arms. He chuckles, but lets you drift.

Your eyes snap open when you hear Niall and Sarah walk into your place. You practically jump off of Harry.

“Sorry, did we disturb you two?” Sarah giggles. “We brought a veggie platter.” She hands it to Harry.

“No, I fell asleep. I was exhausted.” You stretch, and hug your friend.

“Alright, what are we watchin? TV, movie?” Niall says.

“Oh! You know what was on the other night that I’d love to watch all the way through?” You say.

“What?”

“The Forty-Year-Old Virgin. I refrained from watching it because it was halfway through. It’s on Netflix, do we feel like a comedy?”

“Works for me.” Niall says.

“I love that movie!” Sarah says.

Harry and Niall grab their beer, and you and Sarah fill your glasses with wine. You and Sarah sit in the middle of the couch, and your boyfriends sit on either side of you. Your apartment was filled with giggles right off the bat.

“God, we love a young Paul Rudd.” Sarah says.

“We love a Paul Rudd at any age.” You clink your glass with hers. Harry pinches your arm, and you giggle. “What?”

“I’m sittin’ right here. You’re attracted to him?”

“You’re not?! He’s beautiful!” You and Sarah start laughing.

“Isn’t he like fifty?” Niall chimes in.

“So?” You and Sarah say at the same time.

“He’s a hall pass for sure.” Sarah says, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek.

“Agreed. What I would give for a night with Paul Rudd.” You look up at Harry and burst out laughing.

“Jesus, mate, here I was thinkin’ she liked the tall, tan guys, but clearly I was wrong.”

“Now you’ve learned your place.” Niall says laughing. You kiss Harry on the cheek.

You and Sarah laugh so hard you both cry when Jonah Hill makes his small cameo. The guys end up laughing pretty hard at several moments too. You get up to grab the veggie platter out of the fridge and set it up on the coffee table for everyone.

“Thanks for bringing this by the way.”

“Oh no problem, figured it would be better than pizza. Are you excited for Hanukkah to start tomorrow?”

“Yes! I look forward to the gift card my uncle gives me every year.” You giggle.

“Is Harry going with you?” Sarah asks.

“Yup.” You two share a look and start laughing.

“Alright, why does this keep happening? Has everyone been to this party but me?”

“Pretty much, lad.”

“What’s the big deal? Is there somethin’ I should know?”

“Y/N’s great uncle is just a really funny guy. I would just watch out when he greets you.”

“Sarah!”

“You’re not even going to warn him?”

“Warn me of what?”

“If she didn’t warn me, she doesn’t get to warn him.” Niall says.

“Harry…just…” Sarah giggles. “He’s just an older Jewish guy with different ways of saying hello. That’s all.”

“What’s he gonna do? Hug me? M’fine with that.”

“Sure, he’s going to hug you.” Sarah shrugs. “It’s a really great way to know you’re part of the family.”

Sarah and Niall leave around 11PM. You and Harry clean up the living room, and head to the bedroom.

“What time should we leave tomorrow?”

“Party starts at six, so we should probably leave here at like quarter of five, might be traffic.”

“Oh great, so we can sleep in a little?”

“Yup.” You kiss him and turn over. He wraps himself around you, being the bigger spoon.

“That was fun tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we were able to do it. Gotta make more time for them.”

“Definitely….so, Paul Rudd could have you huh?” You turn over to face your stupid boyfriend.

“You’re not serious?”

“Nice to know how you really feel.” He fake pouts.

“I’m sure you have your own celebrity crushes.”

“I suppose. None I would leave you for to go fuck though. Wouldn’t be worth it.” You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling. “You would really ask me for a hall pass for Paul Rudd? Of all people?”

“Hypothetically speaking, if he wasn’t married with kids, I would consider it. More than anything I think I’d like to just have dinner with him, pick his brain.”

“So you want to go out on a date with him?”

“Sure!” You giggle.

“Who else do you swoon over?” He gives you a crooked smile.

“That’s a very personal question.” You tease.

“Why?”

“Because you’re essentially asking me about who I’ve fantasized about.”

“Jesus, if you tell me you’ve touched yourself thinking about Paul R-“

“I haven’t! Not with him.”

“Who then?” Your cheeks flush. “C’mon, I wanna know who my competition is.”

“Harry, it’s embarrassing.” You shove your face into his chest.

“Please, I’m so curious.” He begs.

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“Promise I won’t.” You lift your head and look at him.

“I would bone Andy Samberg if I had the chance, again, if he wasn’t married with a child. I will not be a homewrecker.”

“What is with you and older Jewish dudes?”

“Don’t know. It’s not because they’re Jewish. I just find him really attractive, plus he’s funny. You’re funny.”

“Right, the key to a girl’s heart is humor.” He rolls his eyes.

“Harry, if you didn’t make me laugh on our first date, I wouldn’t have seen you again, attraction or not.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Sense of humor is very important to me. You’re so quick when you joke around, you could be a comedian yourself.” He lifts your chin up to kiss you.

“So, you were pretty hot f’me when we first met, huh?”

“So hot.” You roll your eyes. “I had never seen a man quite so handsome. What about me? What did you think of me when we first met?”

“I wanted to hit Niall for not doing you justice. I mean the lad told me you were beautiful, but shit, when I saw you, I nearly got the wind knocked out of me.”

“Oh stop.” You swat your arm at his chest.

“M’serious. And you were so cute at the end of the night, when you simply kissed me on the cheek. It was so innocent and sweet. Not somethin’ I had really experienced before.”

“How do your first dates typically go?” You giggle. Harry scrunches his face.

“Do ya really wanna know the answer t’that?”

“Are you seriously going to tell me that you usually bone on the first date?”

“That’s usually the only date I want, so yeah.” He says a little too honestly.

“What about the girl you dated for like seven months, or whatever?”

“Uhh, we got frisky…didn’t do it til the second date I think. I don’t know, I was such an asshole, I basically just thought of her as the girl I was consistently hookin’ up with.”

“Were you sleeping with other people?”

“Nah, just her.”

“And she thought you were dating, but you didn’t think you were?”

“I just thought of her as the girl I was seein’.” You often wondered what made you so goddamn special. You and Harry had talked about it before, but it still baffled you. “I know what you’re thinkin’. You know what I really liked about you, like, right off the bat?”

“What?”

“You were just so open and lovely. You were genuinely interested in what I had to say. I thought it was sweet that you complimented m’nails, like not in a judgey way. I couldn’t wait to see you again, honestly. I’d never felt that way before.”

“So you didn’t want to just fuck me then?”

“I wouldn’t have turned the opportunity down. I mean, you looked so fuckin’ sexy in that little black dress you wore.”

“I’ve never seen a man wear a pair of pants the way that you do.”

“What?” He laughs.

“You have a bubble butt babe, and it’s incredible. Love sinking my nails into those cheeks.”

“Are you still drunk?”

“Maybe just a bit buzzed, but I mean what I say.” You prop yourself up to really look at him. “You have a chonk, my dude.” Harry burst out laughing.

“Who talks like that?” He says with a big smile.

“Me and my friends. You’re not the only with a dirty mouth.” You wink. “You know what, I think that’s why I like Paul Rudd and Andy Samberg so much. They both have pretty big butts.”

You both giggle about a bunch of different things until you fall asleep.

//

The next morning you both happily slept in. You got up before Harry. You decided to do a light workout in your living room since you didn’t go to the gym much last week. You put on a pair of spandex shorts and sports bra, and tip toed out. You were just finishing your cool down when Harry walked into the living room, blanket wrapped around him. You guzzled down some water. Your body was drenched in sweat.

“Morning baby. Thought I’d get a quick workout in, we’re going to be eating a lot of food tonight.” He squints at you.

“You…you weren’t in the bed when I woke up.” He rubs his eyes, his voice was still thick with sleep.

“I was just out here, did you think I went somewhere?” You turn the TV off, and walk towards him.

“I don’t know what I thought. I just reached for you and you weren’t there.” He pouts. “I like when we snuggle in the mornin’. You’ve deprived me.” You giggle at him.

“Is baby a little cranky this morning?” You pinch of his cheeks and walk by him.

“Where you goin’ now?” He whines.

“Harry, I’m caked with sweat, I need to shower. You can join me if you want.”

“Not awake enough to shower.”

“That makes no sense. Showers wake people up all the time.”

“Too much work.” He curls up on the couch, and closes his eyes.

You take your shower, alone. You take full advantage of having the privacy to shave every last inch of yourself. You blow dry your hair, and throw your robe on, not really feeling like putting clothes on yet. Harry was still wrapped in your blanket, but he was sitting up and had a mug in his hands. He was watching something mindless on television. You sit down next to him and smile. You throw your legs over his lap.

“Feel how smooth my legs are, I just shaved them.” He gives you a funny look and giggles, rubbing his hand up and down one of your legs.

“Mm, so soft.”

“You’re a sleep boy today.”

“Yeah, I am. Not really sure why, I’ll perk up once the coffee’s in me.”

“Want me make something for breakfast? I have oatmeal and grapes.”

“If you don’t mind, that’d be great.”

You turn on the electric kettle Harry had sneakily bought you. He said it was for him so he could have tea quick, but you know he wanted you to have one of your own. Once the water was boiling, you poured it into the two bowls of quick oats you made up. You but a dash of cinnamon in each, and topped it with some grapes. You come back over and hand him his bowl.

“Thank you baby.”

“My pleasure.”

You both scarf down your breakfast, and sit on the couch a while longer. Harry gets up to clean the bowls, and puts them in the dishwasher. He stretches out, and lets out a moan.

“Alright, guess I’ll shower now.”

You bring the blanket back to the bed and make it up. Harry’s in and out of the shower quick. He has his towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, filing your nails, he sits down next you.

“How long we been together now? Little over four months?”

“Yeah, it’ll be five in January.” You smile. “Why?” He twiddles his thumbs.

“Well, it might be too soon to be bringin’ this up, but s’not like that’s ever stopped us before. I’m here a lot, and I love your place. I still like my place, but I love your place because this is where you and all your things are. I didn’t know if maybe when we got back from holiday, maybe we could entertain the idea of finding a place of our own?” He looks up at you. You’re speechless. “I mean, I’d say let’s just live here, but I need a space for my desk and monitor. I think a two bedroom where we could split the other room as a conjoined office or somethin’, would make the most sense.” He chews on his bottom lip. “I’ve totally freaked you out haven’t I?”

“How long have you, um, felt this way? When did you realize you wanted to live with me?”

“Can’t pin point it. Just somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about. I know it seems fast, but we’re practically livin’ together as it is. We can talk about it later if you’re not ready now. Just wanted to put the bug in your ear.”

You were amazed. You hadn’t even fully slept with the man yet, and he already wanted to live with you. You put your hands on his shoulders and push him back on the bed. You crawl on top of him, and kiss his face all over.

“Harry, I would love to live with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Maybe like towards the end of January we could start looking for a bigger place. You know, once all of the holidays are over. Can you break your lease at any time?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Why?”

“Well…you could move in here before we find another place. Doesn’t make sense for you to keep paying rent. It could take us months to find a place, I’d rather have you here during the in between. We can rearrange the furniture to fit all of your things. And I have that storage unit, we could keep your bed and bulkier furniture there for a little while.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him. “Um…not that I don’t wanna tell the world, but I’d like to keep this quiet from my family for a bit. I still have to tell my dad about England. I’d rather ease them into something like this.”

“Of course. Better keep it quiet from my mum too. Keep everything nice and light.”

“I’m so excited!”

“Me too!”

Harry always seemed to be able to read your mind. It was a conversation you were hoping to have with him after you got back from England. You just couldn’t believe that he beat you to it. You were practically living together, and it didn’t make sense for you both to be paying rent separately. You’d miss his little place, but you’d eventually find a bigger place you both liked. You still loved the idea of potentially living in Niall’s building. Once you start making more money, you’d be able to afford it no problem.

[spooky-z]

Confident

It's time to get the chains out

Is your tongue tied up?

'Cause this is my ground

And I'm dangerous

And you can get off

But it's all about me tonight

Confident – Demi Lovato

××××××

Warning: Adrien and Marinette's potty mouth

@ozmav @maribat-archive

××××××

 "Do you think she'll like it?" Damian asks, his worried face.

"Absolutely." Jason whistles, enjoying the breathtaking view.

He hoped his brother was right.

•••••

Marinette was... bored.

Chloe hadn't come to school today because Kagami was going to travel to Tokyo and she wanted to say goodbye to her girlfriend at the airport.

Because she's a drama queen.

Her class was once again around Lila, eating everything she spat out of that lying mouth.

At least Adrien had stopped covering her and was now helping Marinette when Lila tried to hit her.

The class was not happy with any of the three (Adrien, Marinette and Chloe), but neither did they exclude them. At Lila's request, of course. She wouldn't let Adrien go like this without a fight.

"... Then Damiboo took me for a romantic picnic in the garden of Wayne Mansion." Marinette felt bile rise in her throat, but swallowed back. "He has a motorcycle, but he loves me so much that he was afraid I would fall out of it, so the driver, Alberto, took us for a ride around Gotham."

How could people believe this? For real. Marinette seriously doubted whether her classmates still had working neurons. Even a monkey could tell what was true and what was pure shit.

But she had already given up on them. It was no longer her problem.

Her cell phone buzzed twice signaling that she had received a message.

Bǎobèi: Angel, did you dress like I asked?

Marinette smiles, but bites her lips to avoid questions.

Habib: Maybe... You didn't tell me why. And I am waiting.

She had dressed as Damian had requested.

Leather pants, boots, a leather jacket as well. Underneath she had a plain, loose-fitting white T-shirt.

She still didn't understand why the request and Damian didn't tell.

Bǎobèi: Wait for you at the school entrance at break. Do not be late!

Marinette straightened in her chair.

Damian was coming for her?!

Habib: Are you coming here?

Habib: Dami?

Habib: ?

Habib: Hello?

She drops the phone giving up on getting an answer for now. It was only five minutes before the break.

“... My God, girl! You're so lucky!” She hears Alya scream “Damian Wayne at your feet!”

And there we go again.

•••••

When it gave two minutes for the bell to sound, the loud sound of two bikes was heard throughout the school.

High performance bikes.

And Marinette thought it would be too much of a coincidence that Damian would come and pick her up, soon after, bikes prowling the school.

The class looked confused at each other. Kim looked excited with the expectation of ... something? Marinette didn't understand very much what was going on in the boy's head.

Alya had the sparkle in the eye of the one who found the exclusive of the day. Lila seemed to be up to something and Adrien... Poor baby, sleeping as if he'd been kept awake for a whole week.

Which was probably true, given that Mr. Agreste was a dick. Marinette has never hated an adult as much as she hates him.

"OH MY GOD THAT IS DAMIAN WAYNE?!" someone shouted in the courtyard and the class got surprised.

“Hey, isn't Damian Wayne your boyfriend's name, Lila?” Mylene asks innocently.

Marinette suspects that her classmate is not as stupid as the others. She always seemed to know things you don't want anyone to know.

Adrien wakes up scared, his face scrunched up and his eyes heavy.

"What is it?" He asks.

“Lila's boyfriend Damian Wayne is here at school!” Alya gushes excitedly.

The blonde tilts his head in confusion. “Lila's boyfriend? But he wasn't-“

“It can't be my Damiboo because he went on a business trip with other billionaires.” Lila quickly cuts Adrien knowing that he would say something against her.

This is when the bell rings and everyone seems to jump out of their chairs and leave the room. Curiosity eroding them.

Even Lila ran.

That left only Adrien (who looked like a cat, sprawled on the table) and Marinette, who was waiting for Damian's message.

She goes to Adrien, worried about her friend.

"Chaton, you don't look well." She strokes the blonde's head, hearing the soft purr coming from him.

He turns his head to look at her.

"It's been a tough week for this cat, My Lady."

Plagg runs away from the bag just like Tikki, only to land on the boy's head.

“That miserable man that my kitten has as his father decided it would be a good idea to make a busy schedule to the brim of appointments for the whole month.” The god of destruction complains “If Tikki hadn't stopped me I would have totaled him already.”

Marinette smiles at him.

“Plagg, we already talked about it!” Tikki complains and the two starts arguing.

“Gabriel seems to be getting worse, Adrien.” Marinette says, “You're 18 years old soon, I think it's time for you to run away from him. Have your independence.”

The model rises from his chair, bag on his shoulder. He smiles at his friend.

“And I will.” She raises her eyebrow to show she wasn't having any of that. “Really! Luka has been helping me. As soon as I turn 18, I leave the mansion.”

Marinette smiles mischievously.

“Luka, huh?!” Adrien blushes at her tone. “You've been very close lately. Can I celebrate already? Because it was about time.”

She pokes him playfully.

“MARI!” He squeaks.

"What? It's true and you know it.”

“Alright!” He complains. “Now let's go, because I'm sure Lila must be trying her moves and Damian pissed off that he couldn't get rid of her and Alya.”

Marinette gets serious quickly.

"You're right! He's going to kill her!” She pulls Adrien out the door, their kwamis quickly hiding in their bags.

“Even, I must say, My Lady, you're divine in those clothes.” He says gallantly. “Makes a better cat than me. A total of 10/10.”

Marinette doesn't respond, just pulls the blonde harder through Dupont's corridors.

When they arrive at the school's front door, they come across the crowd of students. Everyone squeezing so they could see what was happening on the street.

“… What do you mean you don't recognize me, Damiboo?” Despite all the confusion, Marinette and Adrien were able to hear.

The brunette palmed her face, not believing what she was hearing.

“Look, she can be a liar and all, but you can't deny she has courage.” Adrien whistles.

"Too much courage." Mari observes. "Now help me through them."

"Right away, my lady!"

They start pushing people, apologizing when someone complains more strongly. Marinette thinks they lost two minutes pushing the students until they reached the top of the stairs.

“Holy shit.” Adrien sighs.

"Fuck." Marinette replies.

The scene was as follows:

On one side was Lila in Alya's arms pretending to cry, while Alya had the furious expression on her face. The class was close behind, anger was a joint feeling, from what Marinette could observe.

On the other side was Damian, all dressed in black leather, helmet in hand, and scornful expression.

A beautiful black Suzuki GSX R1000/R with red accents and an all-black Kawasaki ZZR1400 Ninja parked on the sidewalk.

"Look, I'm just going to talk one more time: I've never seen or met this girl in my life." His voice colder than the Antarctic glaciers. "I've only had one girlfriend in my life and I still keep dating her."

“Why are you lying, Damiboo? I thought we loved each other!” Lila pouted.

“Layla-“

"It's LILA." She growls.

"-LILA, unless you were born with the name Marinette and changed your identity from yesterday to today, you're not my girlfriend."

“Marinette? Like Marinette Dupain-Cheng? That Marinette?” Alya asks surprised.

"Yes. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. My girlfriend for three years.” He frowns “That’s late again.” And looks at Marinette standing at the top of the stairs. He smiled.

She takes her cue and jumps into his arms. The boy catches her effortlessly.

“Hey you.” She kisses his lips quickly. "Wǒ xiāng nǐ."

"I missed you too, Angel." He replies. "And I brought your gift for taking your license." And points to the parked Suzuki.

Marinette lets him go, the shock on her face.

"Wait! Is this my?!” She looks incredulous “Adrien comes here! I have a bike now!” She shouts at the blonde running down anxiously.

They were totally ignoring the rest of the class.

"Damian." He greets before going to see the Suzuki.

“Adrien.” The brunette greets back.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Alya demands, having already released Lila, very focused on trying to understand what was going on. The three stops to look at her. "Are you dating Damian Wayne, Marinette?"

"... Yes? I thought he already said that.” She answers placidly.

“And Lila? Are you stealing other people's man now?!” Alya was livid.

“I never thought you'd play so dirty, Marinette.” Lila sniffles. She would be a terrible actress, Jesus. "I know you hate me because all the boys you like end up coming to me, but I didn't think you would do anything like that."

Marinette feels a vein burst in her temple.

“Girl, you need urgent help! This is not healthy.” Alya supports Lila.

“… Are you telling me they really believe this?” Damian asks Adrien, not believing what he saw.

"Unfortunately."

"How can you handle it?"

“At the base of croissants and hot chocolate.”

Marinette snorts, looking like a bull.

"I won't argue with you." She says "I have more important things to do."

"Like me." Damian jokes maliciously.

Some students blush at the blatant joke.

“You two are gross.” Adrien scowls.

Marinette doesn't answer because she was admiring her motorcycle. Her wonderful, beautiful and powerful bike.

She was almost jumping with anxiety to run through the streets of Paris.

Mari rode the bike, testing the comfort, the pedals, and the accelerator. Not paying attention to the discussion going on between Adrien, the class, and Damian.

Maybe she was drooling a little.

"Bǎobèi!" Marinette calls, cutting off the discussion. "Can I take a walk with her?"

Damian smiles, delighted with the animation of his angel.

"Sure." He replies. "But first the helmet."

He goes to her, the black helmet in his hands and extends it to her.

Marinette runs her hands through her hair to fix it so that it doesn't fall into her eyes. They were much shorter than at 13. She had decided on an asymmetrical jaw-length cut.

She takes the helmet from Damian's hands and puts it on her head, pinning the buckle below her chin.

Damian adjusts to fit her helmet better and closes the leather jacket she wears, for better protection.

She turned to Adrien.

"How am I?" She poses.

“I would let you kidnap me. Approved.” He claps his hands. “If Damian wasn't here… Oh boy.” He shakes his eyebrows and Damian rolls his eyes.

“I'M TALKING TO YOU!” Lila screams angrily.

Adrien looks at Marinette.

"She was?"

Marinette shrugs.

“I don't care.” She turns the key to the bike, loving the sound. “Now get in loser we're going shopping.”

Adrien widens his eyes in surprise.

“Really?!” Marinette rolls her eyes at him before closing the helmet visor. "I'M GOING!"

He rides the bike holding tight to Marinette's arms, knowing she can take his weight.

Damian was already seated in Kawazaki, his helmet steady, when Adrien tightened his grip around Marinette.

“Let's bet who's the fastest, Wayne?” He says mischievously.

“Oh? Do you really want to bet a race sitting in the passenger seat?” Damian sneers.

Adrien seems to understand his situation, but it was too late.

"I accept the challenge. May the best win."

“Wai-” his voice was cut off by the acceleration Marinette gave.

Damian close behind.

The whole school stopped without understanding anything.

And Lila? Well, she kept talking to herself.

BONUS!

"Do you think Marinette would take me for a ride?" Alix sighed, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Marinette could take me with her anywhere." Kim replies, his face an exact copy of Alix. "Did you see how beautiful she was?"

"Yes..." They sigh together

"... So how long have they been like this?" Max asks Nathaniel.

The redhead shrugs.

“Since Adrien and Marinette left.”

"... That was an hour ago."

Nathaniel shrugs again.

[xandertheundead]

reddie kinky smut with dirty talk ??

Here you go my friend!

Bev sat back on Richie and Eddie’s nice leather couch as she cracked open one of their beers grinning at the way Ben looked nervous as Stan started snooping through their cabinets. “Ben, Baby. Calm down, Richie would have done the same if we asked him to watch our place.”

Eddie and Richie were celebrating their second wedding anniversary with a trip to Greece and they had asked Ben to cat and house sit for them while they were gone for a week and a half. Of course Eddie had asked Ben, Bev knew Eddie loved them all but he was also smart and knew who was the most responsible out of them all aside from Mike. Mike, unfortunately, had been busy with a farm thing so the next best choice had been Ben.

Luckily, Stan didn’t have a farm thing like his boyfriend and Bill needed a break from writing his newest manuscript while Audra was out of town.

“But they are trusting me, Bev.”

She heard Bill chuckle a little as he started looking through Eddie and Richie’s selection of DVD’s the redhead judging all of Richie’s bad taste in movies and Bev shook her head a little at her boyfriend. “We aren’t going to throw a rave in here, Ben. Come on, have more trust in us.”

“I trust you guys- I just-”

“Richie has prescription deodorant!” Stan announced as he came back into the living room, thanking Bev as she handed him a cold one. He cracked it open with a look of satisfaction and took a large gulp. “Now I need to find something on Eddie.”

“Why do you guys hate me?” Ben whined, but stopped his protests as he moved to sit net to Bev and she immediately moved to snuggle in close to him. “I give up you guys. If Eddie kills me he kills me.”

“I’d never let that midget touch you, bab-” Bev was cut off by a loud shriek from Bill and everyone whipped their head around when they heard the words that came out of his mouth.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! THEY MADE A SEX TAPE!”

After a moment they were all gathered around the coffee table as they stared down at the blank DVD case that simply read ‘Eating Ma Spaghetti ;)’ in Richie’s barely legible scrawl. Everyone in that room knew what that meant, they all knew one of the nicknames Richie called Eddie and they all silently wondered if Richie was weird enough to film himself actually eating spaghetti just to mess with them. Bev bit her bottom lip as Stan started tapping his fingernail against the table rapidly, Ben looked ready to pass out while Bill poked it with his finger.

“How much do we think this is a joke?” Bill asked quietly.

“With Richie, there’s no telling.” Stan replied seriously.

Bev took a deep breath and then decided with a nod to herself. “We have to watch it.”

“Bev!”

“Holy shit! Should we?”

“I agree.”

“Stan!”

“We have to!” Bev took the DVD and moved toward the TV, ignoring how the boys started arguing with Ben about how it was a must. They had to know if it was real or not and if it were real they had to see how bad they were in bed because…honestly? Richie was fucking six feet and three inches while Eddie stopped growing in highschool and the wonderful height of five feet and nine inches.

God, who topped?

Was it Richie? Or would they get to see what it looked like to watch a racoon mount a giraffe. 

She slid it into the PS4 and immediately made a grab for the controller before Stan could, running and landing with a loud thump sound on the couch as the DVD loaded. Ben sat next to her, wringing his hands, while Stan sat on her other side and Bill took the floor, all ready for what would either be a hilarious awful home sex tape or a giant ass joke. Bev clicked play when the option came up, and then started to fast forward when it seemed like it was just Richie messing with the camera, hearing Bill groan about this actually being a fake.

“Wait!” Ben cried. “I see Eddie!”

Bev tried to stop it as quick as she could, pressing the X button to play the video, and sure enough there was Eddie. There was Eddie, completely buck ass nake, climbing onto the bed on all fours to hover over an equally naked Richie, who reached up to wrap his arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Bev, you went too far.” Stan complained, completely unfazed by his friend’s nude ass on the screen. “The intro to porn is some of the best-worst parts.”

Bev was about to sarcastically apologize with a roll of her eyes when she heard Eddie start to talk. It was soft, so they all had to be quiet to hear, but it was a voice that Bev had never heard from the smaller man before. It was low, husky and actually really fucking hot.

They all watched as Eddie reached up to take one of the hands that were wrapped around his shoulders and guided it back towards his ass, making Richie use his own fingers to push into Eddie completely. The pleasure drunk smile on Eddie’s face was unlike anything they had ever seen on their friend and it made Bev’s cheeks burn when Richie started to move his hand and Eddie leaned down so his mouth was close to Richie’s ear.

“You feel how wet and open I am for you?” Bev about lost it and Bill let out a weird sound when Eddie started to move his hips, fucking himself back on Richie’s hand. “Are you going to be good tonight? Make sure you follow the rules?”

Richie let out a low groan and Bev could tell every guy in the room hated that, while Richie wasn’t giant, he wasn’t very small either and her eyes widened when Eddie pulled Richie’s fingers out of him before pinning his arms up above his head. Eddie leaned down to capture Richie’s lips in a kiss that was far too hot for the absolute losers they were, before pulling away to give a nip to Richie’s neck. 

“You know how this works.” Eddie called gently, moving to straddle Richie’s hips and grind his ass down against Richie’s cock, making the taller man groan. “Don’t touch me until I’ve finished. Don’t cum until I’m done using you to fuck myself into obvlion.”

“F-Fuck, Eds. I love it when you’re like this.” Richie gasped as Eddie ground down on him again. “God, fucking use me, baby. Use me all you want, I won’t touch you until you’re screaming my name. Let me fucking fill you to brim.”

Richie gave a small thrust and Eddie made a sound that made Stan let out a quiet fuck and Bev felt like the room was suddenly far too hot. They weren’t expecting this. They weren’t expecting Eddie to be a god damn Dom in bed and they certainly weren’t expecting Richie’s filthy motor mouth to actually be sexy. They all continued to watch wide eyed as Eddie reached back, lined himself up with Richie’s cock and then rocked his hips down like he’d been riding that cock all his life.

“Oh- Fuck.” Eddie gasped, before grinning and grinding his ass down against Richie’s hips a little roughly, something that had Richie squirming and panting. “I love riding your cock. Almost as much as I like bending you over the bed and fucking your brains out.”

“Jesus, Eddie.” Richie’s hands twitched, an aborted movement to grab onto those hips that kept moving on him. “Look at you. Your chest is just unfair. I wanna pinch those fucking nipples until they’re swollen and red. I wanna flip you over on your stomach and eat you out until your a fucking sobbing mess and are just dripping wet.”

“F-fuck, Rich!”

“Yeah, baby. Come on. Come on! Ride me! Ah! Fuck! Ah!”All of them jumped about three feet in the air where they heard a loud crash from the kitchen, Bev immediately pausing the video as Ben awkwardly ran to check on it. Stan, Bill and Bev all waited in embarrassed silence, cheeks red hot, for Ben to come back and when he did he had Cheeze Nip in his arms, Eddie and Richie’s large black cat.

“Ch-cheeze Nip knocked over a glass.”

Stan nodded. “Ah. Okay.”

Bill and Bev could only nod.

None of them ever spoke of the DVD ever again.

Send me some prompts!

taglist: @tinyarmedtrex @oldguybones @constantreaderfool @queen-sock @stylesmelon @appojoos @realstephenking @trashmouthnick @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @s-s-georgie @reddieforlove @moonlightrichie @eduardoandale @girasol-eddie @thorn-harvester-ven @pink-psychic @nancynwheeler @recycle-byn @marsisaplanetyall @lifesucksheres20bucks @edstozler @uppperteeeth

[yikesharringrove]

hi))) if you still have time 9, 16 and 23?? your writing is so cool)))) thank you 😊

I am such a fucking idiot I keep deleting my shit accidentally when it’s like, almost finished I’m going insane. BUT thank you so much for your request and for such sweet words!

9: “Either you can fight me or you can fuck me… Or both. I’ll accept both.”

16: “Stop touching my butt.”

23: “Come near me again and I’ll kiss the shit outta you.” “Don’t you mean ‘kick?’” “No.”

Prompt list here just for anyone who wants to put a request it!

Steve is having a bad day.

He’s supposed to be graduating in two weeks. He’s supposed to be taking the summer off to lie in the midwestern summer sun and drive the kids around before taking a job at his dad’s firm in the fall.

Until his parents came home. Until a call came in from school saying if he didn’t get his math grade up, he was staring down the jaws of summer school. Until his dad cornered him in the kitchen this morning to let him know he was a disappointment, and that Steve was to work this summer, and that the job offer was completely off the table.

So, it’s Monday. Steve was twenty minutes late to first period (not because he was having a panic attack in his car). And now he’s in P.E., playing fucking basketball because apparently, the final state championship game which they fucking lost wasn’t the end.

So today has been the cherry on top of an absolutely stellar year.

Enter Billy Hargrove.

He was really laying it on thick today, grinning and winking at Steve, letting his tongue loll all around as he plastered his half-naked sweaty self to Steve.

“Jesus, man. Stop touching my butt, will you?”

“What Harrington, giving you too much hope?” He took that moment to steal the ball from Steve, tearing off down the court to make a trick shot like the asshole show-off he is. At least he’s a hot show-off Steve’s dumb brain supplied him. He willed his stupid brain to shut the fuck up and not be gay for Hargrove for like, ten minutes, please.

Steve was bringing the ball back down the court. Billy was zeroed in on him, and Steve? Steve is over it.

“Come near me again and I’ll kiss the shit outta you.” Okay, dumb gay Steve brain. Guess this is what’s happening now. Fuck it, he’s got nothing left to lose.

“Don’t-don’t you mean ‘kick?’” He could see Billy falter. Steve had taken him completely off guard.

“No.” He took this opportunity to round Billy, putting up a shot for his own team.

Billy was off his game for the rest of P.E. He was playing the worst Steve had ever seen him, which by Billy’s standards, was still really fucking good. Still, Steve’s team got the jump and ended the period with less of a defeat as usual, so Steve was feeling alright.

He was taking his time afterward, in no rush to get to lunch to sit with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she dumped him for. He was sitting on the bench in the locker room, tieing his shoelaces when Billy coughed.

Steve startled, not knowing anyone else was in here. He whipped around to see Billy leaning against the row of lockers.

“What the fuck was that out there, Harrington?” Steve shrugged.

“Just some trash talk man, riling you up like you always do to me.”

“No. That wasn’t fucking trash talk. And I’ve never gotten that actively queer on you.”

“Look man, I’ve had a really shit day on top of a really horse shit year, so if you’re just here to be an asshole, and call me fucking queer or whatever just turn yourself around go the fuck back to whatever fucking trailer park you came from.”

Steve knew he crossed a line. He knew it immediately.

Billy grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up off the bench and slamming him into the lockers.

“I wonder what could be making your life so shitty, Harrington.” Billy pressed himself up against Steve’s body. “The silver spoon in your ass gettin’ a little uncomfortable? Did mommy and daddy-” Billy cut himself off when he leaned his hips too close to Steve’s and felt,

Well, he felt Steve’s dick. Steve’s hard dick.

“Holy shit, you really are queer for me, Harrington.” He ground his hips against Steve, who screwed up his eyes, biting his lip against a whimper.

“Look, Hargrove, you can either fight me, or you can fuck me.” Billy slammed him against the lockers again. “Or both, I’ll accept both.”

Billy grinned slowly, and Steve was reminded of some kind of predator, about to devour a tiny defenseless animal. He was absolutely turned on by it.

“Fuck, Pretty Boy. You’re gonna be a lot of fun for me, aren’t you? You wanna skip out for the rest of the day?”

“Fuck yeah I do.” Billy took him by the belt buckle and lead him outta the locker rooms, outta the school, and to the Camaro.

Fuck it, Steve hasn’t had a good day, he deserves some good dick.

[msjr0119]

Sneak Peek Saturday

So because I’m usually very late doing these things, I thought I’d do a premature ‘Sneak Peek Sunday’ - it’s Sunday now somewhere in the world 😂

Tags- just tagging everyone, then if you wish tomorrow to do a SSS feel free.

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @texaskitten30 @ladyangel70 @bascmve01 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @nikkis1983 @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @axwalker @rafasgirl23415 @yukinagato2012 @cordonianroyalty @rainbowsinthestorm @queenjilian @jared2612 @desireepow-1986 @twinkle-320 @bebepac @drakewalkerisreal @choices97 @sanchita012 @princessleac1 @indiacater @furiousherringoperatortoad @custaroonie @ravenpuff02

****

One shot

So the other day, @loveellamae actually made me late for work. Not purposely. I just easily get distracted- especially with the YouTube videos she sent me. It’s a video about pandas by Ozzy Man Reviews, if you haven’t watched it yet- you need to! But maybe go to the toilet prior right, Ella? 😂 Anyway I said, the pandas reminded me of Maxwell and the commentator reminded me of some things that Drake would say. So I decided to do a one shot on it.

Ramsford, 16.30 Saturday.

Oh look, it’s a Lord in his own private pool. I’m pretty jealous to be honest, but I have Jack keeping me company. We don’t get to live in this amount of luxury for free- us commoners. Look at him just splashing around, as if he’s some kid. He’s probably expecting for some Sheila’s to come around in the next hour before the infamous Beaumont Bash begins. He’s probably thinking about having pre drinks in there with them. Attempting to flirt with them all, but he’s a disaster waiting to happen. As am I probably. If it was Liam or Leo in that pool, they’d have all the women fighting to share with the Prince’s. It’s a good thing that Maxwell has confidence. Usually he would say “hello ladieeeees” - cringe. Oh wait a sec, he’s stuck on his back. Holy shit he’s drowning. Ah well. Fuck him.

“Drake. Drake. Oi, Buddy! Drake. Turn the bubbles off. I’m going under. Quit screwing around. Save me!” Maxwell was usually the overdramatic type of person, so Drake didn’t rush to rescue him. Instead he poured himself another whiskey, sat down- and decided to record Maxwell. Not feeling the slight bit of guilt, he found it highly amusing. Besides, there was a chance that he could become rich if he was to send the evidence to You’ve Been Framed. Shaking his head after these thoughts, he wouldn’t actually do that. But it was good evidence for any potential future revenge.

Just fucking roll over you moron. This is hilarious. To say he had a private education, there really is no brain functioning in there.

“Oh no, wait I can roll over. I’m rolling. I’m fine. I’m good. Phew. I need a bloody nap after that.”

And that ladies and gentlemen is Lord Maxwell Percival Beaumont- what an absolute dipshit.

*****

The American Adventure

Book: The Royal Romance (A/U for parts of the series)

Quotes: Some quotes are from the film “The Best of Me”

Pairings: Drake x Riley

Warnings: Swearing, smut 🍋

****

“I told you that I couldn’t wait” Drake smiled softly towards her, before gulping. Knowing that she had waited for him to finish his swim. “Well?” Joining her on the edge of the jetty, he cupped her cheek- as his lips touched her, the kiss was slow. Tender. Standing up, he led her off of the jetty- and towards the edge of the lake. Laying down, he hovered over her- unable to remove the smile from his face. She was the most beautiful woman that he had laid eyes on. To him anyway.

“Are you sure about this?” Drake asked hesitantly. Tugging at his hair, she had never been more sure about anything. If she didn’t do this now with him, she may regret it for the rest of her life. Drake knew that they both craved for each other in secret- it was their first time for the two of them. It would be special.

“I’m sure, just kiss me....nobody is around.” Pulling his face, towards hers- they remained staring into each other’s eyes adorably. Knowing exactly what each other were thinking. They would both be heartbroken once this state of euphoria had ended. It is a summer fling. Unless somehow they could work a long distance relationship out. As their tongues intertwined, it was a matter of seconds before Drake took the plunge and slowly entered her. “Oh my god, Drake...” Gently he began thrusting in and out, making sure to not hurt her. Making sure that she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“I love you, Ri.” After only four weeks of knowing each other, he regretted saying those three words prematurely - assuming it was too early. But he knew and he had to inform her some way of how much he cared for her before they returned to Cordonia.

“I love you, too.”

“Ri, helllooo... is somebody in there?” Daniel asked concerned as he knocked his friend out of her trance by waving his hand in front of her face.

“Erm, yeah sorry. Has Carlos sorted the rota out for the week after next? He knows or should know that I need this week off because of.....”

“I know, don’t worry. We’ve sorted it between us all. You’ll have to let me know how the will reading goes tomorrow, babe.” Riley just nodded, it still hadn’t sunk in that she had lost another person in her life so tragically. Daniel ran into the back room, and provided her with a copy of the rota for the next few weeks.

“What’s up with you? You know you can talk to me about anything...”

“I’m going crazy. I think it’s due to the lack of sleep...” Pausing, she knew everything was in the past but she couldn’t help but think about all the what if’s. “You remember ten years ago at camp... you remember Drake, right?”

“Yes, Liam and Maxwell too. And the two snobby bitches who went through hell. How can I forget it? It was one of the best summer camps ever. Why do you ask?”

“As I said, I think I’m going crazy. As I arrived, I’m pretty sure I saw Drake. But it’s just my imagination....”

“Hold that thought, Natalie is ringing...” Helping herself to a drink, she knew that she shouldn’t- but she now knew her limits.

“For fuck sake. She’s running late again... Ri, could you just serve that bachelor party over there for me? I know that you’re not due to work but it would really help me if you could...”

“Sure, why not.” I would rather be here than stuck at home.

- - - -

“Hello gentlemen. I’ll be taking care of you for a short while this evening.”

“Waitress, steaks for the table. Fillet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a bearnaise sauce if that’s not too much to ask.”

“The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

“Dare I ask for the wine list?” What a wanker, Jesus. It’s a dive bar. Just be nice and polite, Riley. Take their order then Natalie will hopefully be here to suffer with them.

“We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey and five deluxe burgers. Thank you.” The other man interrupted. Smiling towards the more polite man, she recognised those eyes. It’s just coincidence, she believed. Blue eyes are just blue eyes. They are all the same. “My names, Leo. This is Tariq. What is yours?”

“Five burgers? There’s only two of you?” Greedy bastards.

“Oh, our three friends are outside- reminiscing about the last time that they was here in the Big Apple. I think it was about ten or eleven years ago.”

“I see... I’ll put your order in. My names Riley by the way...” Leo offered her a warm smile, whilst Tariq grimaced at the surrounding- this place was well below his standard. Turning around, she was relieved when she saw Natalie bound through the back entrance.

“Riley, I’m so sorry. The traffic is a nightmare...”

“Riley?” Facing back towards the table, she believed that she was hallucinating at first. I’m not crazy. They are here. Why?

“Riley, damn. You’re still hot! You haven’t changed one bit.” Maxwell squeezed her so tight that she could barely breath.

“Lady Riley... it’s good to see you...” Liam laughed as he referred her to this. The common mistake he made all of those years ago- the prince charm was naturally installed into his mind, even when attempting to conceal his true identity. Kissing her on the cheek, he moved to the side so Drake was in full view of her.

“Riley...” Drake mouthed, unable to say her name mainly due to the shock about seeing her unexpectedly. Making a step forward, she panicked in that moment- not wanting to be close to him, not needing any excuse to jump back into his arms as she did all those years ago. Placing the pad into Natalie’s hand, she twiddled with the rings on her finger. Now, she was beyond nervous.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Great to see you all, enjoy your vacation.”

“Anyone care to inform me about what the fuck is happening here?” Leo demanded, as the three of them watched her head towards the door- all wearing the same expression.

[hookedontaronfics]

Last Call - Part 2

Rating: Mature/Explicit Pairing: Taron x Reader Warnings: Cursing, Plenty of smut [Oral, Unprotected Sex] Find the first part HERE. A/N: Multiple readers requested a second part to my one-shot Last Call, so here it is! I truly hope you enjoy it! x

It hadn’t been a mistake, but you sure as hell regretted it. He hadn’t exactly been your first one-night stand, but the problem remained; you’d always been able to walk away before without much thought. Sleeping with Taron had been an entirely different experience. The problem, of course, was that you now couldn’t get him off your mind.

His charming smile was everywhere you looked, reflecting back to you in car windows as you passed them by on I-5, in the storefront windows as you hurried toward the Paramount, in every cute brown-haired, bright-eyed boy who tried to catch your eye. None of them were Taron, of course; you knew where he was at that very minute, still at the WaMu Convention Center, making his fans happy. You needed desperately hard to figure out a way to not miss him; that he’d gotten under your skin felt both dangerous and dizzying. You couldn’t, wouldn’t be seeing him again, so getting a grip on this little fascination of yours was of utmost importance.

You once again nodded your hellos to your hotel co-workers before taking your place at the bar. Your boss was thankfully not working tonight; you were grateful you’d be working with Dave because he’d not only keep things light-hearted and fun but he was also very gay - no temptations there. Still, since no one was at the bar at the moment, you pulled out your phone and started scrolling through the Taron Twitter feed. Most of what you saw there you regretted seeing; why anyone in their right minds would tweet some of that stuff was beyond you, but there was also a large cadre of respectful fans who had made it their mission to spread Taron’s merits far and wide. 

You were lost in the myriad of pictures when someone tapped you lightly on the shoulder; you nearly jumped out of your skin and banged your shin against the dishwasher. “Owww!” you groaned, rubbing it as you turned to greet your very tan, blonde-tipped co-worker. Dave could have been a California surfer for all his looks, but here he was in Seattle making drinks for the elites. He always said he stuck around because Seattle actually celebrated the LGBTQ lifestyle but personally, you figured he stuck around for his perpetually on again-off again relationship with Joe, the next-door cafe barista.

“Who’s that fine piece?” he asked, having looked over your shoulder at your phone as you’d been scrolling.

“He’s an actor,” you said a bit dismissively, but Dave just kept going on.

“Strong jawline, kind eyes, adorable smile, broad chest,” Dave said, before snapping his fingers. “Mmm, he’s that Kingsman kid, isn’t he? All grown up and ready to -”

“Dave!” you cut in. “Jesus. I get it, he’s hot as hell,” you laughed, your cheeks turning pink against your will.

“Noooo,” Dave said, his eyes going wide. “You slept with him?” he squealed, clapping his hands together.

“Oh my god, we’re not having this conversation right now,” you groaned. “How’d you know?”

“You have a tell, sweetheart, everyone does, it’s totally fine. We’ve only worked together for five years,” he smirked as you covered your face with your hands. “So how’d that happen?” he asked, wanting you to dish on the details. And normally you would, but something about this felt different, so you just mumbled something about helping an overly friendly drunk person up to his room and, well, straight into bed. 

Well, technically against the couch, but who was keeping score? You blushed again at the thought of last night, the sounds he’d made, the way he’d felt inside you- … you had to stop thinking that way or you were going to have a very uncomfortable shift being horny half the night.

“Anyways, Dave, he was drunk, he probably didn’t even remember it, and I’ll never see him again, so…” you trailed off as he looked at you sympathetically.

“Oh, honey, you liked this one, didn’t you?” he asked, and you nodded. There was no point in lying - it was probably written all over your face.

“Yes. No. I don’t know, Dave. He stood up to our shitty boss for me and was kind and thoughtful and he had absolutely no need to be any of those things to me,” you said, getting a far-off look in your eyes. “But it doesn’t matter!” you insisted again. “Let’s just get this work day over with,” you said, needing to focus on anything other than Taron.

Sundays always seemed to bring an interesting mix of clients, and the evenings were usually more laid-back too, so you let yourself ease into the flow of it, and truly enjoyed working with Dave, especially as he rattled on about his weekly sexploits, as he called them; there really was nothing TMI with Dave, but you didn’t mind. Your secrets were always safe with him, and he would always have your back.

“Oh, honey, don’t look now, but there is an absolute dreamboat at 9 o’clock,” Dave whispered in your ear as you were polishing water spots off a clean glass. Of course you were going to look, so you grabbed a rag and moved to that part of the counter, trying to look like you were inspecting a stain as you raised your gaze up - and nearly choked on your own spit when you saw Taron standing in the bar’s doorway, so obviously looking for you. You gave Dave a look and he gestured to you to “deal with it” before going to check up on your clients for you.

“Holy shit,” you said as Taron spotted you and started walking over, the cutest damn smile growing on his face. For just one moment you allowed yourself to get lost in that smile, the way it made his eyes scrunch up. He was dressed simply in black jeans and a black tee, the shirt sleeves tight around his biceps and highlighting them just so perfectly. Oh, he could hold you down with those muscles, you thought, before cringing slightly at that. Thinking those things would only get you hot and bothered with no way to remedy the situation.

“What are you doing here?” you asked when Taron finally got to the bar. He looked slightly confused at your cold reception; it wasn’t your proudest moment.

“You left me last night,” he said, not even a question, and you felt his gaze on you as you dropped yours down to the floor. “I woke up alone and I thought I could deal with that. But the thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking about you at all. You were on my mind all day. I took hundreds of pictures with other girls, but y/n, they weren’t you. I needed to see you again.”

“Well, here I am,” you said, holding out your arms before letting them drop to your side. “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re going back to London, I live here. This isn’t a romance,” you said quietly.

“Romance doesn’t have to last a lifetime. It can be just for a single day,” he replied. You looked up at him leaning against the bar, his gaze so earnest and vulnerable it took your breath away. “Why don’t you say we give it a chance?”

“I’m kinda at work…” you trailed off as Dave swung by you.

“No you’re not. It’s a slow night and I’ve got your tables. I’ll even hold your tips for you,” he said with a wink. “So go on,” he grinned, fairly pushing you out from behind the bar. “Go have the night of your life!” Everyone really should have a Dave in their life, you thought as you found yourself walking out of the bar with Taron in a complete change of events. You noticed vaguely that he was toting his suitcase with him; he must have already checked out of his hotel room. Just then his phone started ringing and he looked at it, wincing slightly before silencing it and pocketing it again.

“What was that?” you asked him, a bit suspiciously.

“Nothing,” he said quickly but you wouldn’t let it go. “I missed my flight. My agent is livid,” he said but with a grin. “He’ll deal and I’ll book another flight,” he added with a nonchalant shrug. Of course booking another flight was no big deal to him, considering where he’d been put up last night, you thought. Still, despite being obviously loaded, he remained humble and unassuming, and you really liked that he didn’t flaunt his status, even if he was wearing a watch that probably cost more than your month’s rent.

“So where are we going, then?” you laughed as you both stood there on the sidewalk outside the hotel.

“I kind of didn’t already have a plan. I figured I’d just have to wait for you at the bar half the night, which I mean, you know I would have done for you,” he grinned. “Having time with you sooner is a pleasant surprise.”

“Well,” you said, running your fingers through your hair. “We can just grab a bite to eat,” you said, smiling at him.

“Perfect. And then after that, I’ll take you all the way up there,” he said cutely, pointing to the top of the Space Needle. A part of you wanted to tell him it was just a really expensive and over-glorified elevator ride, but his excitement over it was infectious and you weren’t about to dash his hopes.

You both quickly walked back to your car; you got to drive since Taron had just been chauffeured around Seattle and didn’t have a rental of his own. You kept having to remind yourself that he wasn’t even on your level.

“Pardon the mess,” you said as you quickly cleared the front passenger seat of its accumulation of empty water bottles and discarded receipts. He didn’t seem to care about the state of your car as you dug around the back for an extra shirt you knew you had stashed amongst the various bags and boxes of random stuff. You clambered into the backseat and tried your best to hide from passersby. 

“Close your eyes,” you giggled to Taron as you shucked off your work vest and button-down, even though he’d technically already seen you in a far more undressed state. You exchanged those for a light blue frilly blouse, let down your hair from its clip and touched up your makeup quickly, all in about five minutes’ space, before climbing over the middle console into the front seat. You’d had plenty of practice with quick changes in your car.

“Can I open them now?” Taron giggled lightly, his eyes still actually squeezed shut, and you laughed at that. You had to appreciate his sense of chivalry, that was for sure.

“Of course,” you grinned at him as he looked over at you, his eyes roaming over your body as he looked clearly impressed at your transformation.

“Like what you see?” you asked a bit cheekily.

“Very much so,” he smirked back, sending a thrill through you. You clamped your legs together, fully aware of how much skin your skirt showed off as he licked his lips slightly. But you both kept your hands to yourselves or you wouldn’t be making it to dinner at all.

You both pulled up Google on your phones and tried to decide on a place; finally, you suggested a restaurant called The Walrus and The Carpenter that you had always wanted to try. It offered the right mix of fresh seafood and American tapas, as well as specialty cocktails, and once Taron agreed it sounded like a good choice, you made the drive uptown. You were able to snag a table with only a little wait time, and found the food to be even better than you had imagined. The drinks were enjoyable and the company even more so, and soon you had both filled yourselves to the brim with fresh oysters, small plates of peppers, beets, kohlrabi and cheese, and finished it all off with marionberry cake.

Taron paid the tab without a second thought, and soon you both were off to the Space Needle. You’d only been up once before; the views really were pretty, and the few clouds hugging the horizon as the sun was close to setting would probably set off a spectacular view. “What are you thinking?” Taron’s voice broke through your thoughts; you hadn’t even realized that you’d been smiling a bit dreamily while you drove.

“How this has been one of the most pleasant evenings I’ve ever had,” you said honestly, looking over at him briefly, his lovely green eyes focused on you.

“It’s been much the same for me,” Taron grinned, reaching over and taking one of your hands in his. You couldn’t help it; you squealed a little bit inside. You knew that this couldn’t last but you told yourself there was no harm in living the dream for today.

You parked and Taron once again paid, even though you had offered to cover your ticket. You took the ride up, Taron keeping his hand at the small of your back in a sweet manner. No one else in the elevator seemed to pay you any mind. Once you arrived at the top, the views did not disappoint. You both spent some time just gawking at the sunset, the water, the city stretched out below, taking cute pictures together and just having fun. At one point he had his arms wrapped around you and his chin resting on your shoulder, his warm body pressed against you, and you couldn’t stop the racy thoughts rolling through your mind.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, Taron cleared his throat and asked “Shall we go then?”

“Sure,” you said a bit breathlessly. You could only imagine where this night was going to end up. Once you were safely seated back in your car, Taron pulled you in close to him.

“Been waiting to do this all damn day,” he whispered before pulling your mouth to his. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling as he kissed you, soft and slow and sweetly at first. But as you returned his kisses, they deepened, becoming needier, hungrier. One of his hands wrapped around behind your head as the other ran along your bare thigh, sliding up under the hemline of your skirt. You moaned slightly and gave his fingers access to your core, already growing wet in anticipation of his touch.

But then he pulled away, both of you panting, leaving you hot and definitely bothered, but you knew you were still parked in a very public space and getting arrested for indecency wasn’t high on your list of life accomplishments.

“Should we go book a hotel room somewhere?” Taron asked, fidgeting slightly and you were all too aware of the tent in his pants.

“No, I have a better idea,” you grinned, putting the car in gear and pulling out as quickly, but safely, as possible. He’d left his hand on your thigh, but didn’t make a move to distract you any further. Seattle traffic could get scary at times, and you did your best to take the backways you knew to avoid the worst of it, grateful when you finally pulled into the lot of your red brick apartment building on Rainier Avenue.

Taron raised an eyebrow at you once you were parked. “No one has to know a thing here,” you grinned back at him as he fairly attacked you with kisses again, peppering your face with them until you shrieked with laughter at it.

“You are bloody brilliant,” he grinned at you as you both got out of the car. You told him to haul his suitcase up because you had a feeling he wouldn’t be sneaking out at night the way you had left him in the hotel. You led him up to your second-floor apartment, mentally walking through it and hoping there wasn’t anything too embarrassing left out, but despite how you treated your car, your apartment was usually in pretty orderly shape.

“Well this is cute,” he grinned as you let yourselves inside and he looked about him. “It reflects you,” he grinned, pulling your hips into his and making you gasp slightly. “Now… Where were we?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that went straight to your groin. He crashed his lips against yours, no longer worried about seeming needy, and you could feel his erection growing even more, pressing against your leg as he trailed his kisses across your jawline and down your neck, finding a spot that made you weak in the knees and nipping your skin with his teeth.

“Taron,” you whined slightly, but he seemed absolutely determined to take his slow time with you, to make you feel every bit of what he could do to you. You could only shiver in anticipation as his fingers trailed along your waist. He gripped your shirt and slowly pulled it off you, and you were grateful you’d chosen a cute lacy black bra over the boring nude one that morning. His eyes grew dark as he took in the sight, his fingers brushing over the swell of your breasts in the bra.

“I didn’t get to appreciate this last night,” he smirked at you, making your breath catch in your throat a bit as he dropped those heated kisses down to your chest, leaving your nerves on fire wherever his lips traveled over your skin. He reached around you and unhooked your bra, letting it drop to the floor before taking one of your pert nipples in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and making you moan loudly. He pinched the other one gently with his fingers, causing you just enough pain to be pleasurable as he sucked at your breast greedily before moving down your stomach, nipping and sucking spots on your skin.

You never wanted him to stop, and voiced your displeasure when he pulled away for a moment. “Patience,” he smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward your bedroom, but then must have changed his mind because he tugged you toward the bathroom instead.

“Only one place for a dirty girl like you,” he spoke, as you both stepped into the small cramped space. He wrestled with the tub handle, making you laugh as it totally broke the mood.

“It’s tricky,” you giggled, turning the water on to warm up and stepping out of your skirt, standing there in only your panties as Taron rid himself of his shirt and pants pretty quickly too. He pulled you in for more kisses again, before noticing the dark bruises along your hips from the night before.

“Oh God, I did that to you?” he said, brushing his fingers over your hips so delicately it nearly tickled.

“It doesn’t hurt, and don’t you dare apologize for giving me the best night of my life,” you said firmly, as another one of those breathtaking smiles lit up his face.

“Best night of your life, eh?” he asked. “I think I can do better,” he said gruffly, and you moaned again at the thought as you stood there and admired his physique. He was built, but not overly so, and it gave him a sort of everyman quality that could put anyone at ease.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you breathed, and your comment seemed to have caught him slightly off-guard. He tried to bluff his way out of the compliment but you put your hand on his chest and shook your head. “I can’t believe you don’t see it, but you are. Let me help you feel it, at least,” you whispered as you ran your hand over his still-clothed bulge. The groan that rumbled in his chest was enough to set you aflame. You pulled his boxer-briefs down and sat back on the edge of the tub, running your fingers along the shaft of his cock, appreciating what was right in front of you as your mouth salivated for him.

You pulled him close so he was standing between your outstretched legs and leaned in, placing some teasing kisses along his hip bones and down the trail of hair before finally placing a kiss on the tip of his engorged cock. “Holy fuck,” he hissed, his hands tangling in your hair as you licked the vein on the underside. He tried to buck into your mouth but you held him back, smirking at the power you had over him in that moment. There was nothing sexier than seeing a man like this, head thrown back and in the throes of the pleasure you were giving him.

Finally you gave him what he wanted, taking his cock in your mouth, sucking hard as you moved, your fingers digging into his butt cheeks as you let him thrust into your mouth, trying to avoid gagging around him as he sought his high. You could tell he was close when his groans gave way to grunts and you let him slip out of your mouth with a pop, earning you a slight yank of your hair that he still had a hold of and making your eyes water slightly.

“I want you to cum inside me,” you said, your panties thoroughly soaked by this point. You needed him, and you needed him now.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” Taron said, still a bit breathless as you stood up and he helped you out of your panties. You stepped into the tub and pulled the diverter valve for the shower, feeling the hot water against your skin as Taron followed you in and pushed you against the wall, biting your lip slightly as his hips pressed against yours. You were all too happy to lift a leg around his waist as he grabbed his cock and stroked it a few times before pressing into you. You’d nearly forgotten how full he made you feel, and you had to hold onto him to keep from sliding down. He had his hands flat against the wall to steady you both as he slowly started to pull out and push back in, gazing at you fully the entire time. It was probably the single most intimate sex you’d ever shared with anyone.

He couldn’t resist kissing you again, swallowing your moans and adding his own as beads of water glistened on his skin. You held onto him tightly, fully overwhelmed as he picked up his rhythm; the angle meant he was hitting you in the most delicious place. You could feel the edges of your orgasm drawing together already as Taron fairly started to pound into you, losing his composure as he barreled quickly toward his climax, desperate for it now. Suddenly and all at once powerfully, your orgasm tore through you, the waves of pleasure making you forget time and place as you screamed Taron’s name out loud. He was barely ten seconds behind you, grunting in your ear as he spilled into you, both of you overwhelmed by the feeling of it as he held you there for a few moments, both of you trying to come down together.

When he was sure you could stand on your own he finally pulled away, spent and totally exhausted but also really, stupidly happy. You would never get tired of seeing that dopey grin on his face. Neither of you said much as you slowly got yourselves clean before the hot water ran out. You had taken a few moments to run the soapy loofah over his chest, wanting to stretch out this time as long as you possibly could before it would all be over.

Eventually you both stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in towels and having to leave the bathroom as the amount of steam that had built up in there was making it hard to breathe. You both dried off and got dressed in pajamas, and Taron pulled you cutely onto your bed with him, having to displace several stuffed animals to fit, which made him chuckle. You laid side-by-side, nearly forehead to forehead with each other, just gazing at each other, still in that post-sex glow. He reached over and caressed your cheek sweetly. You could have stayed like that forever with him.

“Come with me to London,” he said softly, and it took you a moment to process what he had said.

“What?” you asked, a bit in disbelief.

“You don’t seem happy here,” he said, and he was right about that. “Quit your job. Leave your shitty boss behind. You could find work anywhere in London,” he fairly pleaded.

“Taron, I- … That’s not even realistic,” you replied, feeling your heart beginning to race. “I have bills to pay, and just, things I need to take care of here.”

“I could help you with the bills, and I’d be patient. But we could make it happen,” he said in such a vulnerable way that it hurt your heart a bit to deny him again.

“I couldn’t ever ask you to do that,” you shook your head.

“Then call it a loan, if you must. You could pay me rent to stay in my flat with me, for all I cared. I just want you with me. Nothing is impossible. Just imagine it, just try, you and me in London.”

“You are so sweet, Taron, but I hardly know you,” you said, brushing his still-damp hair back. He looked a bit crestfallen until you added, “But maybe we could date for a little bit first, do the long-distance thing.”

“And then you’d consider it?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure, babe, I’d consider it,” you said as he hugged you close and buried his face against your chest. You smiled at that and let him hold onto you, feeling emotions you weren’t used to feeling. It made you both anxious and elated as the night enveloped you both. As you started sliding headlong toward sleep, you wondered how this green-eyed stranger had managed to get so far under your defenses. And the real truth of it was that your last call had suddenly made you hope for a forever.

Keep reading! A third part has been added HERE.

[trickstump]

homeroom angel 

eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier rated e 5.5k 

thank you to @eddiekissbrak for beta’ing and cheerleading me through this journey. migz, you’re a real one. 

(read it HERE on AO3) 

Richie’s not looking for it.

Of course Richie’s not fucking looking for it, though; to look for it, he’d have to have had any idea that it existed, and the idea of Eddie doing anything like this was beyond unfathomable. It was a whole other level of this could never happen that even Richie fantasies couldn’t have predicted it- and he’d had some pretty wild ones.  

But. Here the fuck it was, skipping floors two through two hundred on the Wonkavtor and busting through the top of Richie’s head, staring back at him from the page of the magazine he’d picked up.  

Eddie. 

It’d been- there were so many fucking steps, really, to them even getting here in the first place. Richie had to have found this fucking magazine when he was in colleg- not this issue, god, not this issue; if Richie had picked up this fucking issue in college, he was sure his mind would’ve exploded. But, he had to pick up this magazine in the first place in college, furtive, snatching it off the rack at the drugstore and not bothering to pay because holy shit, he couldn’t stand the idea of looking the dude in the counter in the eye and paying for a porno magazine that shouted Boys! Boys! Boys!

So. He had to pick up this magazine, and then, in a drunken fit just after his first few paid shows, he had to buy a subscription to this magazine- fake name, correct address- meticulously updated every time he moved so that it could be delivered right to his door packaged in a discreet envelope, and occasionally shoved into the bottom of his suitcase while he was on the road, because he liked to have the company of Mr. January 2016 on cold nights in decent hotel rooms.

 And, then, he had to be subscribed at just the right time, because he’d really been about to cancel his subscription entirely when the throwback issue came out. It was getting fucking dangerous, having his porn hand delivered to him like some kind of creepy old man, when Eddie had just moved in after trekking out to LA as a part of his post-Derry, post-divorce midlife crisis. There’d been an incident last month when Eddie’s found mail with the fake name that had lead to Richie having to sneak back out to the mailbox in the dead of night to do some recon before Eddie’s neat little “return to sender; does not live at this address” got his jerk-off material for the month taken away. It was the modern era; he should just make the jump and start going digital, anyway. 

So. Petty theft, years of furtively waiting for his monthly fix of scantily clad men to arrive via the US Postal service, and someone somewhere’s visonary idea of “let’s just reuse some fucking old pictures this time; these dipshits’ll crank it to anything, I’m sure” culminated to this:  

Eddie.  

Not Eddie, now- obviously, not Eddie, now. That’d be fucking insane, and Richie would be losing more of his mind than he’d already lost. He’d just been flipping through the issue, admiring this and that, and- he’d almost skipped the pages on his first thumb-through, absentminded and half hard, free hand resting on his leg, when he saw the flash of a leg and flipped back.

And then, there was Eddie. 

Younger- a few decades younger, the little white Times New Roman in the corner told him; Eddie, November 1999. November, Eddie’s birth month- happy fucking birthday to him. He only caught it the second time he looked at the picture, flipping the page and then flipping back to make sure his mind wasn’t just projecting the image of a younger Eddie onto the pages. 

It wasn’t. 

It was Eddie- his Eddie, flushed a little pink in the way he got when he was flustered, doe-eyeing the camera. His mouth was just as pink as his cheeks and hanging open just a bit, and Richie spent so much time looking at his face, he almost forgot to look at the rest of him- all of the rest of him, most of all of the rest of him, because thank god, this was not where he was seeing Eddie’s dick for the first time. Narrow avoidance, though, only because of the artful drapery of the fugly pink fur- rug? blanket?- monstrosity they had barely draped over the area, which let Richie see everything except his dick. 

God. He couldn’t even fucking think about Eddie’s dick right now. Not that he let himself think about Eddie’s dick too much, anyway. He’d think about being in love with Eddie all day long, and maybe about the fucking phenomenal sex they could be having every so often, mostly when he was lonely on the road, because there was a weird line when it came to being in love with your childhood friend, and that line was drawn exactly on the other side of “jerking off thinking about him while he’s sharing an apartment with you.” 

Speaking of, Richie’s dick went from being passively interested in the goings on to standing at attention like a goddamn car lot flag pole the second he had enough brain cells to process what he was seeing. He was achingly hard, now, and at the same time frozen in place, free hand now gripping his leg so hard he was going to leave a bruise. He couldn’t do anything but stare, heart racing like he was running a marathon.  

It was the best thing he’d ever fucking seen, and he needed to stop seeing it. 

“Hey, Richie?” 

Eddie’s voice outside his door jumped him into action, and Richie dropped the magazine like it was burning him. “Uh- yeah?” His voice broke on ‘yeah’, and he really, really sounded like a kid whose mom was two seconds from walking in on him jerking it. 

Eddie, for his part, didn’t seem to pick up on it- or, more likely, he was just fucking polite enough not to call him out. “You coming out so we can go eat or what, dude?”  

Fuck. Richie had been so caught up in a past where Edward fucking Kaspbrak, world’s stuffiest man and love of his life, had posed for a gay porn magazine that he had forgotten about the present where said childhood sweetheart was expect him to get dinner. “Oh, for sure.” He’d managed to get control of his voice, because he was a goddamn professional. “Just give me a second, man, I’m not decent.” 

“You’ve never been decent in your life,” Eddie huffed. “But, fine. Be out in, like, five minutes or I’m gonna eat without you.”

Richie waited until he heard Eddie’s footsteps disappear to exhale, and then it was just him and- well, him and Eddie again, still staring up at him from the centerfold with a look that Richie had barely ever even dared to imagine he could pull off. 

Fuck. 

He gave himself a few moments to breathe, eyes squeezed shut least the air he was just getting back into his lungs be stolen again, and he flipped the magazine closed before he opened them again. This was- definitely crossing the line he’d drawn for himself, and he should probably just throw the whole thing out before he jumped over the line and directly into something dangerous. 

But.

But, he couldn’t bring himself to- for a lot of reasons, really, chief among them the fact that he knew having a missing issue in his back catalogue would drive him absolutely fucking insane, and totally, totally, not because he couldn’t imagine ever getting rid of the only proof he had of the divine fact that Eddie could have “fuck me” eyes. Totally. 

So, instead of the trash can, or the back of his closet in a box where the rest of the issues went, Richie played into the full fantasy of being in college again and shoved the magazine under his mattress, resolving to deal with this later. The rest of his five minutes was spent trying to will his dick to sit back down by any means necessary- mostly by thinking about Eddie’s mom, which was an irony that Richie was too wired to appreciate in the moment. 

Thank fucking god they weren’t going out or anything. Eddie had just picked up cooking in his quest for independence, and liked to show off whenever Richie was home, which Richie didn’t mind in the slightest. He’d survived the last several decades on his own on Hot Pockets and takeout whenever he was home, and room service or fast food when he wasn’t.  

Eddie cooked, and Richie did the dishes. It was disgustingly domestic, and thinking about the concept rather than the action actually made Richie happy to do it, instead of mildly irritated. Love was a hell of a drug. 

He couldn’t really focus on the food tonight, though, because every time he looked up across the table- because Eddie made them eat at the table, like what the fuck was that?- he was faced with Eddie, who hadn’t changed enough in twenty years for Richie to be able to not see flashes of his pink lips and flushed cheeks every time he saw him.

It was like being haunted by a sexy, sexy ghost. 

“And I- Jesus, dude, are you even listening to me?” Richie blinked when Eddie waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Richie; you look like an idiot, man. What’s up with you, is there something on my face?” 

“Uh,” Richie said, trying to say anything but ‘hey, you used to be, like. Hot, in college or whatever’, but obviously not reacting fast enough for Eddie’s tastes. 

“I already got the fucking mole checked, it isn’t cancer,” he said, and that was Richie’s Eddie, vision snapping back into focus. 

“I’m not staring at your fucking mole, dude,” Richie said, rolling his eyes. “Also, aren’t they only like… cancerous if they have hair in them, or something?” 

“No,” Eddie said, and sucked in a breath, and that launched them into a conversation- well. A tirade from Eddie with color commentary from Richie, really, and that was more like their normal dinner conversations, enough that Richie could phase out his lust for past Eddie and focus on the warm fuzzies that having this Eddie in his life gave him.

 Dinner and dishes done and conversation still rolling, though they’d cycled past about twenty different topics now, they moved on to the post dinner ritual of turning on the TV and not-watching Wheel of Fortune in favor of not-cuddling on the same couch, even though there was definitely a perfectly fine recliner in the room. This was the kind of thing that made Richie think that maybe, just maybe he had a chance in hell in all this- but, fuck if he was going to make the first move, so he just sat there with his arm flung over the back of the couch, hand dangling just so it brushed Eddie’s shoulder, and pretended he gave a shit about whatever Pat Sajak was saying, and wasn’t just watching Eddie.  

Because Eddie was double his age at heart, Wheel of Fortune faded into Jeopardy, and when Jeopardy faded into whatever the fuck came after, right on cue, Eddie yawned. “I’m going to bed,” he said, and Richie nodded.

“I’ll probably turn in, too,” he said, and they both just sat there for a few seconds after Richie turned off the TV, something- something- lingering between them. This part, too, was part of the norm; there was something one of them wanted to say, needed to do, but Richie was too chicken shit to be the one to do it, and Eddie was- well, Richie wasn’t sure what Eddie was, scared, nervous, too freshly out of an intensely shitty relationship, but what it boiled down to was Eddie yawning in again, breaking the moment, and saying “g’night, Richie,” as he got up, and went to his room. 

Normally, Richie’d just sit there for a few moments and stew in the moment he let pass again, but tonight, he only had to sit there for a second before he remembered what he’d been trying to get out of his head since dinner. 

He felt like a burglar in his own home, tiptoeing back to his room and closing the door. He thought about keeping the light off, for a second, but flipped it on at the last second. If he was going to be crossing the fucking line like this, he may as well be able to fucking see it in its full glory.  

He settled onto the bed and pulled the magazine out from under his mattress in one smooth move, flipping it open to the page without having to search, like the universe knew exactly what kind of self destruction he was looking to do. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he looked down on the exhale, Eddie was staring back at him, legs splayed and back arched artfully, like he’d just been waiting for him this whole time. 

“Hey there,” Richie said to an empty fucking room, and too much brainpower had already switched to dick power for him to be embarrassed about it. It didn’t take too long for him to get fully hard again- because it was fucking Eddie, of course it didn’t, and Richie wasn’t in the business of teasing himself when it came to jerking off, so he inelegantly wriggled out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them to the bottom of the bed. 

It was a little awkward, balancing the magazine in one hand while he had the other on his dick, but Richie was a pro at it, at this point. Normally, though, he’d only look at the magazine for a bit  before he let it fall aside, letting his mind do the rest of the work. Tonight, he couldn’t make himself put it down, though, because putting it down would mean he wouldn’t see how fucking right Eddie looked, laying back on that stupid, ugly pink fur, arms draped above his head and legs spread wide.

“Fuck.” He didn’t say it very loud, but Richie felt like he could hear it echo through the empty room. This was going to be the shortest fucking jerk off session he’d had in maybe his entire life, but, that should really be expected, considering the circumstances, and- 

“Hey, Richie, do you think I should get this mole checked again, because I really-” 

The world stopped. 

Eddie- real Eddie, now Eddie- was standing in the doorway. Fuck, normally, he’d knock, but Richie guessed the mole thing was really fucking bothering him, because he’s just slammed it open and given Richie no time to react. They both froze, when they locked eyes, and Eddie realized what was going on, and his face skipped right past the pretty pink Richie’d just been looking at to bright fucking red. “Oh. You’re- busy.” 

“Yeah.” Richie’s hand had not moved from his dick, nor had he moved to put the magazine down, or cover himself up, or anything a normal fucking person would do. Instead, his gaze flicked from Eddie, down the magazine, and back. “I, uh- sorry.” 

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie said, and Richie felt his heart jump into his throat for a second as Eddie started moving towards him, and- laughing? “Dude, is that a fucking magazine? What is it, the fucking sixties?” 

“Fuck you!” Richie was finally moving, now, but it was mostly to jerk the magazine out of Eddie’s reach when he reached for it. Eddie didn’t seem to care that his fucking dick was out, so Richie was gonna ignore it for the time being, and hope it went away. “It’s artful, man.” 

“You’re such a grandpa,” Eddie snorted, managing to snatch the magazine away from Richie and dance just out of reach before he could snatch it back, flipping through the pages. “Is this fucking vintage magazine porn? Richie, you’ve got to be fucking kidding m-” 

The last part of the sentence died on Eddie’s tongue as he reached the centerfold, and he went pale as a ghost. “I, uh-” 

“You looked, like... Really fucking good.” That was the wrong thing to say, the stupidest thing Richie could’ve possibly said, but he spoke before he thought. 

“It- college, man.” Eddie didn’t seem like he was entirely in himself as he spoke, still staring down at the page. “I… I wanted to feel hot. So.” 

Eddie’s voice was so fucking small when he said it, it made Richie’s chest ache. “Wanted to feel hot?” he asked, sitting up a bit. “Dude. Eds, you are hot.” 

“I mean, I used to look pretty good- I worked out and shit.” Eddie shrugged, finally putting the magazine down, setting it on Richie’s bedside table. 

“I didn’t say ‘used to’,” Richie said, using his single ounce of courage for the rest of the year. “I said you are hot.” 

“Present tense?” Eddie’s gaze snapped from the carpet to Richie’s face, brow furrowed, seemingly searching it for... something. Richie wasn’t sure if he found it or not. “You think so?”

“I’ve always thought so,” he said, because he had, and if he was being honest, he may as well go the whole way with it. Fuck the line.

“Fuck, Richie.” The two words left Eddie’s mouth in one gust of breath, and before Richie could add anything onto his confession, Eddie had surged forward, and kissed him, hands on either side of Richie’s face, holding him like he was something precious . It was honestly a very sweet kiss, for how inelegant it was, and the fact that Richie’s dick was still out, several decades worth of longing and things unsaid pushed from both sides. 

When they pulled away, they were breathless, and Eddie’s forehead was resting against Richie’s. “You were really gonna sit here and jerk off to my fucking picture while I was a room away, huh?” he teased, and even if Richie knew it for what it was, guilt wormed its way into the pit of his stomach. 

“The fuck else was I supposed to do?” he shot back. “Knock on your door and go, ‘hey, Spaghetti-O, I know you’re in the process of doing your old lady skin care routine so that you can pass out by ten like some kind of retiree, but I need you to know that I found your ancient nudes, and they dredged up every fantasy I’ve ever had about you and then some. Thoughts?’” 

“Yes,” Eddie said, and then, “You’ve had a lot of fantasies about me?” 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever fantasized about,” Richie said, and he hated how fucking honest he was being about that. “Even when I didn’t know it was you, it was always- the shape of you, the flash.”

“You’re not allowed to be that romantic when your fucking hard on is digging into my hip, man,” Eddie huffed, and then he kissed Richie again. This time, there was nothing sweet about it, all heat, biting and sucking, and when Eddie pulled away to kiss down Richie’s neck, there was nothing he could do but bite back a moan. “And, yeah, you should’ve fucking come to me. You don’t need the fucking magazine when you have the real thing.” 

“Have I got it?” Richie asked, and he wasn’t even sure what he was asking, but Eddie stopped pawing at his shirt for a second to give him the answer that he needed, anyway. 

“Richie,” he said, deadly serious and flushed the same shade of pink he’d been in the picture, now. “You’ve always had me. Now, take your fucking shirt off.”

Richie didn’t have to be told twice, and by the time he got the rest of the way undressed and retrieved his glasses from where he’d flung them across the bed in the process, he was treated to Eddie having done the same, stepping out of his sleep pants, silky, stupid, monogramed button down hanging off his shoulders. “God.” He couldn’t help the outburst, and it made Eddie look over to him with a smile- no, a fucking smirk, crawling back onto the bed like some kind of stupid sex kitten from an eighties porno and letting the shirt drop to the floor in the same move. 

“Like what you see?” 

“You already know I do, asshole,” Richie said, rolling his eyes at the line and running his hands down Eddie’s sides and back up again in the same motion. “You’re fucking hot, Eddie.” 

“I like hearing you say it,” Eddie said, surging to kiss him again. He’d settled on Richie’s lap, sort of, straddling his hips, and it was fucking rewarding to feel that he was just as turned on as Richie was, even if Richie couldn’t bring himself to look down at his dick yet. That was a shade too far; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover. 

“You’re fucking hot,” he said again, sort of mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder as he pressed a kiss there, and started working his way down. “I’ll keep saying it, then.” 

“You’re- shit, Richie, we’re not fucking kids, you can’t just go giving me hickies all ove- oh, you’re probably the only person I’ve heard it from in, like- a decade,” Eddie’s head was tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, and it was such a pretty scene Richie almost didn’t process what he’d heard. 

“No one’s told you you were hot in ten fucking years?” It sounded so impossible to Richie; who the fuck could miss all this, even with the not at all provocative polos and button downs Eddie usually wore- or. Well, Richie found them provocative, but he found everything about Eddie appealing in one way or another. 

“I- fuck- was married,” Eddie said. “And we weren’t, like… that kinda couple.” 

“Her loss,” Richie said. “My gain. You’re so fucking hot.” 

“Your gain,” Eddie echoed, and he was smiling, so fucking gentle that Richie forgot how to breathe, and also the fact that he was supposed to be ravishing him. “Do you, uh. Wanna fuck me?” 

Richie’s brain stopped working. “Do I want to fuck you? Eddie. Eddie, I think if I don’t fuck you, I’ll die.” 

“You won’t die,” Eddie huffed, even though Richie wanted to protest when he removed himself from his lap. “Do you have, like. Lube and shit?” 

 “First drawer on the left.” Richie made a vague gesture towards his dresser, and readjusted to give Eddie more room on the bed when he came back.

“I haven’t fucking done this in years,” Eddie when he found what he was looking for, tossing the bottle at Richie. “So, you’re gonna have to, like. Be patient.” 

“I’m so patient,” Richie said, fumbling to catch it and then fucking up his first few attempts at getting the cap open in his haste, undercutting his whole statement. “I’m like fucking Buddha, man. Did you- want to grab a condom?” 

“I checked, yours are expired,” Eddie said, settling back onto the bed. “Which tells me, like, how little sex you’ve been having. We can, like… make a run, if you really want one? But- I’m clean, and I… if you are, then.” 

“I am,” Richie said, maybe a bit too quickly, because the idea of raw dogging Eddie was the closest he’d had to a religious epiphany in his whole life. “I- am.”  

“Good,” Eddie said, the word coming out like a sigh as Richie repositioned himself once more, looming over him to steal a kiss. “Then, do you wanna do this part, or should I?” 

“Can I?” Richie was getting gift after gift tonight, feeling like Christmas goddamn Day when Eddie nodded. He shifted down again, getting probably too sloppy with the lube as he coated his fingers. Whatever, he’d change his sheets later. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Eddie’s face as he pushed his first finger in- slow, so fucking slow, because he was being patient, and gentle. The pink was back in his cheeks, and his eyes were half lidded, eyelashes fluttering every time Richie’s finger moved, small noises Richie wasn’t even sure he knew he was making falling from his lips. “Fuck, Richie.” 

“You good?” Richie was breathless- he’d been breathless a lot in this; maybe he should ask if Eddie had any of his old inhalers lying around. 

“Am I good?” Eddie almost sounded like he was going to laugh, but Richie must’ve hit something good before he could, because the noise turned into a drawn out moan. “Jesus, Richie. Another- another, and harder, and fucking do that again.” 

“You’re so bossy,” Richie snorted, but he did what he was told because he kinda liked that Eddie was bossy. 

Two more fingers and several minutes later, Eddie’s eyes looked like they had almost rolled back in his head, and he was tugging  Richie’s hair. “Okay, you’ve- you’ve gotta fuck me now, or I think I’m gonna lose it.” 

“Losing it is the point,” Richie said, even as he drew his fingers back. The whimper Eddie let out when he did was intoxicating. 

“Not before I’ve had your dick in me,” he countered. “I’ve waited way too fucking long for this, and I’m not gonna be waiting until I get it up again because I came like a fucking college kid before we got the main event.” 

“Then here comes the show, baby,” Richie said, shifting once again. He had to manhandle Eddie a little bit so that they were both positioned properly, handing him a pillow to put under his hips because neither of them were fucking twenty somethings anymore, and he was realistic about the level of crazy they could be getting here. 

Eddie rolled his eyes as he readjusted himself. “Don’t call your dick ‘the show,’” he said. “Even if it’s- Jesus, Richie, where do you even fucking put that thing?”

“I’ve never exaggerated a big dick joke in my life,” Richie said, a little smug because fuck yeah, finally, some respect. 

“I guess not,” Eddie said. “But, having a big dick doesn’t mean you know how to fucking use it.” 

Richie’s eyes narrowed. “That a challenge, Eds?” 

“Just an observation,” Eddie shot back, laying back on the bed and looking up at Richie with a smile that was definitely a challenge. “Prove me wrong.” 

Richie took that as his cue to do exactly that, lining up and pushing in- just a bit, at first, small thrusts of his hip before Eddie kicked- literally, fucking kicked, the asshole- him into action. “We just spent twenty fucking minutes working me up to this, Richie,” he said. “Fuck me like you mean it, now.” 

“I’m trying to be a gentleman, so you can sit pretty in your desk chair tomorrow,” Richie said. 

“You can be a gentleman next time,” Eddie said- and, holy shit, next time. “This time- fuck me like you mean it.” 

Richie didn’t have to be told twice. He was really, really considering maybe starting going to church again, with all the religious experience he was having this night, but he could mull that thought after he finished processing how fucking good Eddie looked, gripping Richie’s sheets as he rocked into him, slow at first and then building. “Jesus Christ, you’re fucking phenomenal.”  

“Stop using words with more than three syllables,” Eddie said, eyes fluttering shut and then open again, locking with Richie’s and not moving. “Your dick is turning off my brain.” 

“Phenomenal,” Richie said. “Effervescent. Show stopping, beautiful, an absolute fucking knock-out-” 

“Shut up,” Eddie moaned, tugging Richie down and kissing him. “You’re already fucking me, you don’t have to flatter me.” 

“It’s not flattery if you’re fucking everything,” Richie said, and that got Eddie’s eyes to widen.

“Everything?” he asked, and his voice was way, way too gentle for the moment. It seemed like an important question, for being only one word. 

“Everything,” he echoed, sure, more sure than he’d ever been about anything in his life. “Always been, Eds.”

“You can’t just say that shit, Richie,” Eddie said, but he kissed Richie again, and when he pulled away, added: “Say it again, anyway.” 

“You’re everything,” Richie repeated, and it became a mantra. “You’re everything, Eds,” like he was trying to burrow the idea so deep in Eddie’s mind he’d never fucking doubt it again, for better or for worse. They were fucking clinging to each other, now, and Richie wasn’t sure when this had turned from fucking to romance novel love making, but he wasn’t about to stop it. There was no way he could detach his feelings from this, if any of the shit he’d been saying didn’t make that obvious on its own. 

It only took a few more minutes of everything, you’re fucking everything, you’ve always been everything for Eddie to tighten around Richie, whole body curling like a spring when he came between them. “Richie, Richie, holy fucking shit-” 

“I’ve got you,” Richie said, sounding wrecked, because he was fucking close, too- he’d been close before Eddie’d come in, it was a wonder he hadn’t already blown it like a virgin- and he needed Eddie to know it. “I got you, I got you.” 

“Richie.” Eddie sounded just as wrecked, and it just took one look at his face- pink lips, pink cheeks, doe eyes blown wide under his lashes- to push him over the edge, coming with Eddie’s name on his lips. 

“Fuck.” His arms gave out, as he came down, and he flopped on top of Eddie. “Fuck, I think I’m dying.” 

“Don’t die with your dick still in me, idiot,” Eddie huffed, nudging him until he shifted and hissing as Richie pulled out. “God, I forgot this part.” 

“The afterglow?” Richie flopped on the other side of the bed now, and was pleased when Eddie shifted and followed, tucking himself against Richie’s side.

 “The part where I need to fucking shower,” Eddie said, making no move to get up.

“Do it later,” Richie said. “I’ll hop in with you, save water.” 

“If you hop in with me, neither of us are getting clean,” Eddie snorted, and god, if Richie hadn’t just came, that would’ve done some shit to him. 

“All the more reason,” he said, tucking Eddie a bit more securely into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of his head, getting a little bold. 

“Did you mean all that stuff?” Eddie asked after a beat of silence. “About-” 

“You’re everything,” Richie said, and he could feel Eddie’s breth hitching without even looking at him, because he wasn’t brave enough to do that right now. “Always been. It’s… yeah.” 

“Always?” Eddie sounded like he couldn’t believe it, which was stupid, because of course it was true. 

“Which part of that did you miss, Eds?” Richie asked. “The part earlier where I told you you were the only guy I’d ever fantasized about, or the way I used to follow you around like a puppy when we were kids, or-” 

“Shut up,” Eddie said. “It’s- you were my everything, Richie, so please, give me a damn minute to adjust to the reality that I haven’t been stupid for thinking that maybe you felt a little the same the whole time.” 

“Take a minute, then,” Richie said, because, oh, he didn’t know what to do with that, so he probably needed a minute, too. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Neither am I,” Eddie said, and that made Richie relax a little bit. “I’m staying here, tonight, by the way. I’m not sure my legs work.” 

“That good?” Richie hummed, smug, and Eddie didn’t answer, but the kiss he pressed to Richie’s shoulder did for him. “Told you, I’m fucking good.”

“One time doesn't count,” Eddie said. “You’re gonna have to give a repeat performance.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Richie said. “A few- later. Probably not tonight.” 

“Probably not tonight,” Eddie agreed. “But- soon.”  

“I’ll fuck you every night I’m home if you let me, Eds,” Richie said, and sounded a lot more lovesick than he intended. 

“You’re taking me to dinner, first,” Eddie said. “Nice dinner, that I’m not cooking.” 

“Deal,” Richie said. “It’s a date.” 

“A date.” He turned to look at Eddie, then, and he was grinning like Richie had just done something amazing. “Good.” 

Richie had to kiss him for that. “I’m getting that picture framed, by the way,” he said as they both tucked in for the night. “We can hang it in the living room.” 

“We have people over, Richie,” Eddie said. “You’re not putting my nudes in the fucking living room.”

“They’re tasteful!” Richie protested. “And, like. That wasn’t a no on the framing.” 

“It’s a good picture,” Eddie said. “But, not in the living room.” 

“My office it is, then,” Richie said. “I’ll hang it right behind me, so when I do Skype interviews, it’s there.” 

“You’re the absolute worst,” Eddie groaned, but he kissed Richie again, so Richie decided he was gonna take that as ‘maybe.’ 

[vannahfanfics]

Roxas the Wingman

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Sora, Jasmine

Requested By: cornholi4 (FanFiction)

Additional Tags: College AU

A dreamy smile was on Sora’s face as he leaned over his desk with a lightly blushing cheek in one hand with the other slowly, methodically, absently twirling his pencil, hazy blue eyes currently locked onto the radiant young woman seated exactly two rows ahead and one seat to the left of him. A deep, admiring sigh exited his lungs as he sat there admiring her, not even paying attention to the droning of their history professor pointing at some map or another on the PowerPoint. Her name was Jasmine, and she was the most beautiful creature that he had even seen; thick, luscious dark brown hair that framed her face in flowing waves, beautiful caramel latte skin that glowed like the desert’s setting sun, warm brown eyes with thick brown lashes that Sora so easily envisioned himself getting lost in. His elbow slid over the smooth surface of the desk as he craned his neck further trying to get a better look at her; all he succeeded in doing was slamming his head down onto the table with a loud smack! He flushed pink at the chorus of giggles that bubbled up around him, namely from one of his best friends that was sitting beside him- Roxas.

“Dude, would you just man up and get her number already?” the blonde boy snorted in derision. Sora growled lightly in response, peering through his spiky brown bangs up at the sneering guy.

“Shut up, Roxas, it ain’t that easy…”

“You talking about Jasmine?” Xion asked from Roxas’ other side, leaning forword so that she could be involved in the conversation. “Isn’t she dating that Aladdin guy?” For effect, the raven-haired girl gestured to the Arabian man seated beside Jasmine who was feeding his totally illegal pet monkey apple slices under the desk. Sore grunted in a bout of triumphant laughter.

“Nah, they’re just friends.”

“You know that, but you don’t know her number?” Roxas tutted with a shake of his head. “This is ridiculous. I can’t deal with your groaning and moaning anymore,” he muttered. Sora lifted up his head as Roxas scrawled something hastily on a piece of notebook paper, tore it free from his binder, and crumpled it up into a ball.

“H-hey, what’re you- Oh my God, no!” Sora hissed in utter dismay as Roxas reared back and launched the wad of paper at the back of Jasmine���s head. Roxas had a pitcher’s arm, and the projectile smacked right into his intended target; she gasped lightly aloud and her hair whipped over her shoulder as she wildly glanced back, eyes darting through the crowd to see who would dare chuck the paper at her. Sora had slammed his head down on the desk again and was shielding it with his arms, whining miserably. Through the small gap in his arms, he saw Roxas motion to her to open up the paper. Warily, Jasmine did as bid, leaning down to retrieve the crumpled ball and, as quietly as she could, unwrinkled it to see what was written on the page.

“I hate you.”

“You ain’t about to in five seconds,” Roxas laughed back. Whining with the pitch of a wailing jet engine, Sora could only watch in dismay as Jasmine’s brown eyes danced over the penciled words. He jumped violently in his seat as they darted back to lock right onto him, so violently in fact that he kicked his backpack two feet forward and made the desk screech against the floor, making the whole back of the class snicker at him again. He shrunk down into his chair with a raging blush, wishing for nothing more than to melt through a hole in the floor and never return, as the girl’s piercing eyes regarded him levelly. Slowly, note in hand, she turned around to resume listening to the teacher’s lecture. Sora wasn’t sure if it was a good sign that she gently laid the note down on her desk rather than crumpling it back up and beaming it right for his bright red forehead. “Relax,” Roxas chuckled as he slapped Sora on the back encouragingly. “I got this.”

Sora only responded with another wheedling groan. He would have to get the notes from Xion after this, because there was no way in hell he was going to be able to focus because he was too busy wondering which way Jasmine was gonna smack the hell out of him after class. Upside the head? On his cheek? Maybe she would go straight for an uppercut or a sucker-punch… Sora spent so much time spiraling into worse and worse probabilities that he didn’t even notice class was over- that is, until the girl he was currently panicking over was standing right in front of his desk. When her pretty manicured nails tapped lightly on the surface of the desk to get him to lift his head, which was shoved down into his arms, he did way more than that; he jerked up like a rod, vibrating the desk as he quivered in absolute alarm. When she quirked an eyebrow at him, he felt like he was gonna explode.

“H-h-h-hey J-jasmine…” Roxas was bent over double trying to contain his laughter at the horribly pitiful display he was putting on. At least Xion tried to smile at him- at least, for all of three seconds before her cheeks bulged out and her hand flew to her mouth to contain the loud snort. Sora deflated, hand delving into the spiky tufts of his brown hair. “Look, Jasmine, I’m sorry. Ro-“

“Is it true?”

“Do wut?” He gaped owlishly at her. She flipped the note around and his blue eyes slowly drifted down to the messy writing scribbled across it basically admitting that he was totally over-the-moon for her. His cheeks turned the color of cherry blossoms as his startled blue eyes rose to her inquisitive but not judgmental ones. “Oh, hehehehe… Um…. Yeah…” he admitted in a teeny-tiny shy voice. He smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess you’re, uh, gonna tell me to buzz off or somethin’ now, right?” Of course she is! She’s so pretty and outta my league… I totally fudged it about Aladdin, too; what if they are dating? I mean, I can take that guy, but still!

“No…” He looked up with bugging eyes as her pretty lips curled into a shy smile. “I was going to say that if you’d like, I’ll meet you at Starbuck’s at three to chat.” Sora gaped stupidly at her while his little pea brain attempted to process what she had said. When it did, it didn’t have nearly enough capacity to form coherent sentences, so he settled for wildly nodding his head instead. As she giggled girlishly and gave him a small wave before strutting off, Sora melted into a pile of lovestruck goo against the desk.

“Ah… No way… We’re gonna go to Starbuck’s <3” he cooed as he basically reached nirvana. The tingling that was traveling all over his body surely signaled the release of his soul from his material form. Well, he had to grab it and force it back in, because there was no way he was gonna miss his date! Now that the girl was gone, Roxas no longer cared about somewhat preserving Sora’s dignity; with an unrestrained howl of laughter, he began beating his fist against the desk while he remained bent over from cackling so hard.

“Holy shit! You looked so uncool! You better count yourself lucky that she likes goofballs, because Jesus Christ!” With a deep gulp for air, he sat up, face flushed and tears at the corners of his eyes. Sora didn’t know whether to glare at him or laugh with him, because loathe as he was to admit it, he probably did look like a big bungling buffoon. Par for the Sora course. Roxas continued chuckling as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Ahhh, man… That was good… Ehe, you owe me ice cream for this one, Sora.”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. Thanks. Though I coulda done without you laughin’ at me.”

“Look, I’m nice, not a saint.”

“Heehee, you two… Sora, three o’clock isn’t far off. You should probably hurry!” Xion told him. With a gasp, Sora leaped out of his desk. Well, he attempted to leap, but his foot caught on one of the desk chairs and he ended up sprawled out on his belly. Groaning, he stretched out an arm to retrieve his backpack and then hurriedly scrambled up, yelling good-bye to Roxas and Xion as he hauled ass out of the lecture hall. He could barely hear the shouts of protest as he barreled down the hallway and out the building, shooting down the sidewalk in the direction of the campus library. He didn’t hear them, because his heart was singing with joy. He jumped up to pump his fist in the air with a hyped crow of his voice.

I got a date with Jasmine! Thank God for wingmen…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[current-mcr-news]

Casual Interactions #5: Full Transcription

John: Alright Frank, so what did you bring us?

Frank: Okay so, I was just out in Chicago, and I was there for a couple weeks. And I came across some things. One of which is my favorite. I'll start with the good first.

J: Yeah.

F: So the good is, every time I see a root beer that I've never tried- Here's the thing, I'm not a huge root beer fan.

J: Yeah, I don't know many people who are.

F: I can have one root beer and then I'm like, "Okay, that's enough root beer."

J: Yeah.

F: Maybe even half. But if I see one that I've never tried before, I have to, something about it, I just have to try it.

J: Yeah.

F: So, one time I came across the one root beer and it's called WBC, and it's made by, like there's a brewery out there called Goose Island.

J: Oh yeah, I know Goose Island.

F: So Goose Island makes this root beer, and it is by far, my favorite root beer I've ever had. And it's Chicago style, but you could only get it in the Midwest, and I've tried to look, you know, on Amazon and all that stuff, and it's like fucking astronomical on Amazon. But when I was out in Chicago, I found that they had it at Costco, so I bought like, fucking 14 cases of it. So I brought that.

J: You brought it across state lines?

F: I smuggled it.

J: Calling it, you're bootlegging.

F: You know, hey, what are you gonna do? I tried to go the legal route with it, but I don't think it's illegal to just buy something and move it.

J: Right.

F: Anyway, so that's the best. Now, the other side of the spectrum is a drink that I believe is what you would call a Chicago staple.

J: And that's what's in the shot glass.

F: And that's what's in the shot glass. This is Jeppson's Malört and Malört is a wormwood derivative.

Shaun: That's a terrible word.

J: Oh, something they put they put in absinthe?

F: Yeah, but it's not in that, like it's not gonna make you like, it doesn't make you crazy.

J: Okay.

F: It's more, from what I've been told, like a digestive, and almost like a Fernet and stuff like that. But it is by far, one of the most foul things I have ever tasted, and I feel like it's something that you can't describe until you've had it.

J: Alright, so let's do it.

F: Yeah, so here's to those that wish us well, and all the rest can drink some more Malört. Cheers. 3 2 1, go.

S: Oh! Fuck you, man!

F: Yeah.

J: Oh my god, that's- it's like a-

F: So here's the thing, wait wait wait. The thing about it, it's not so much the original-

J: It's like a licorice Listerine!

F: It's not the original shot that gets you, it's the after taste that lingers on your tongue.

J: My heart's on fire!

F: It's like if a grapefruit took a shit out of its- and the shit tasted like earwax, is just what it would be like in liquid form, would taste like Malört.

J: Welcome to Casual Interactions podcast. We're dying here. Can we drink the root beer now?

F: Yes, crack the root beers. That'll help.

J: Jesus.

F: This is by far my favorite root beer.

J: Oh my god, thank god. It was delicious. I think anything would be delicious though, after the Malört.

F: Yeah. Kinda great though, right?

J: I can still feel it on my tonsils.

F: Yeah, it doesn't really go away. It's got that weird sour, yeah I know. Maybe we should've done that at the end of this. We're so sorry!

J: It's okay. So we're gonna pick up from last week. We were talking about writing processes. We talked about what got us- this is gonna be a hard one, man. We talked about what got us into writing, but made us believe that we could do it too, and chase our dreams. You know, one: we didn't actually hear from Shaun a lot last week, because we ran over time, so that's, I wanna lead off with Shaun right now. I wanna talk about writing.

S: You want me to use that? I'll use it.

F: The coffee might help you.

J: But see, that's a weird mix. I mean, coffee, Malört-

F: Yeah well, here's the thing. I'm sorry, the Malört kinda clings to the back of your tongue like a demon.

S: Yeah it's like stuck in your teeth.

F: It doesn't go away.

J: I can't get it off the back of my tongue.

F: Yeah, it's still there. The more you drink it, the more you can kinda laugh as other people try it, because it doesn't affect you as bad.

S: I don't know if we should keep drinking it.

F: No, you don't wanna have anymore of it.

J: No!

F: It's definitely, that's a one and done.

S: My stomach is weird now.

F: Yeah. Yeah.

S: It does weird things to your-

F: Everything makes weird to you.

J: You know what's-

F: I just said "everything makes weird to you."

S: There you go. That's the title of this episode.

F: That's the Malört. Everything makes weird to you!  

J: Yeah, I had a giant cup of coffee before, I did a shot of Malört, I'm drinking a root beer. The ride home is gonna be terrible.

F: Yeah.

J: You live, you learn. I feel like I lost a bet.

F: Hey, well here's the thing. Yeah, it tastes like you lost a bet. It tastes a lot like the writing process, to be honest because-

J: Bring it back, Frank.

F: You know, that's the thing, it does. Because like, you know, I don't know about you guys, but at least for me like, the artistic process and all that stuff is, I know that it affects me in such a severe way.

J: Right.

F: Like, when I write a song and I feel like things are going well, and I'm able to express myself in a way that I'm like, "Oh shit, I fucking nailed that one!" Like, oh wow, that's a good song, or I wrote a really good line. You know like, sometimes you'll hear stuff in your head, and if you nail it- like if it comes out through your hands the way you heard it in your head, or even better, you're like, "Motherfuck," and you can ride that high.

J: Oh that's a huge high.

F: For a long time. And sometimes, when you're trying trying trying to write something, or you're trying to recreate that thing that you heard in your head, or you lost that thing in your head, because you fell asleep. You know, like you heard it in the middle of the night and you didn't fucking write it down, or kinda do a voice memo thing, you feel like you just drank a bottle of Malört. That's like, "Man!" Like, you just, I'm so sour at all times, I fucking snap at people, I'm not happy in any way, I'm a fucking grump.

S: Well, what it's like, and it happens to me a lot too, it's almost like these single serving doses of being bipolar.

F: Mhm.

S: That's what I think of it like.

F: Yes.

J: Wow.

F: Because I can be manic.

S: Yeah.

F: And so depressed.

S: Because when you write that thing and you're on this high, the next day or the next hour when something happens, and you question that, and it sends you off on this other tangent, and you're the total opposite.

F: Oh absolutely.

S: You're at this total low.

F: How about those times when you write something and you're like, "Oh damn, I cracked it. I'm actually pretty good at this, I can-" you know like, "all these things that I wanted to believe about myself are ture," and then all of a sudden, you listen back and it sucks. You're like, "No!"

S: Right.

J: See, I know what the opposite of it's like. I actually watched Back to the Future this morning.

F: Okay, alright.

J: Because it's one of my go to movies.

F: Very nice.

J: I'm burping up Malört. The eureka moment, I think, you wanna look at the visual of the eureka moment is?

S: I thought you said urethra moment.

J: Different kind of party, Shaun. We'll talk about that in another episode. It's the one where we get our prostates checked, because we're old.

S: Let's do that, now.

J: No. Doc Brown, when the DeLorean goes back to the future and he gets down, he's looking around, and he sees the fire in the street, and he's jumping up and down like, "Holy shit, I'm not crazy. Holy shit." It's exactly as I imagined it to be, "This is it, I did it." That is one of the greatest highs you will ever feel in your life, when you have that. Whether you're painting, whether you're writing, whether you're drawing, whether you're building a house, when you get It, you'll never get that high off of anything else.

F: Right. And I think that's why we continue to chase it. And that's, you know, one of those things that my dad, I think, tried to instill. First off, my dad was a drummer, my grandfather was a drummer, so music happened a lot in my world, you know? And I would get to go see, if I was, you know, if my dad played a place that my mom would let me go to, I would get to see him play. And if he was playing a bar or something she felt or deemed to be too seedy, then I would get to go see my grandfather play. He played at this like, restaurant which was almost like a speakeasy, actually.

J: Oh, that's so cool.

F: It was kinda hidden in the forest and it was the same crowd-

S: The forest?

F: It was, it was, I swear to god. You had to know, it was like a secret turn, and you went back like-

S: That's cool.

F: You know, 2 or 3 miles into the forest, and there was this fucking little "restaurant." I used air quotes, "restaurant," back there. And the same people, the same you know, older crowd went every fucking weekend. They had their own- they had assigned seating, it was, "That was my table, that was this table," you know? And so, they would play the songs every weekend, or whatever. But I would get to see them, and if I was really good, I would get to stay up and I'd go to the diner after, with the band and that was really awesome.

J: That's awesome. I mean, your grandfather was a drummer's drummer.

F: Yes, yeah.

J: And that was the, you know, the kind of- your dad too, the kind of drums that they'd play, people who know them, they know them. Because it's a very special kind of- it's not like you go to Guitar Center, you hear someone in the drum shop trying out everything. They're, to me, true drummers.

F: Also like true musicians, right.

J: They're cats.

F: Yeah, it was like- yeah! Totally. Total cats, you know? And that was the thing when I said, "I wanna be a musician, or I wanna start a band," their first thing was like, "Don't." Their first advice was, "Don't do that ever." And I think the second form of advice was like, "Alright well, if you are going to do it, then you need to know this. And the thing that you need to know is that there's music, and then there's the music business. And very often, one has nothing to do with the other." And I feel like, that happens a lot too, in the writing. And the writing is very much the music, but then when you show it to other people, it becomes the music business.

J: Right.

F: And what is say, you know, maybe commercially viable, or what do other people like, you know, what's going to grab someone's attention, and you know, it's almost like you start to soil the process and you soil the art form by ever showing it to someone else.

J: Yeah.

F: You know? Because you want so bad to be liked, or to have someone appreciate the thing that you do, and very often, if you're not careful, you can stray from your original path to have someone reaffirm what you're doing is good.

J: Well I mean, at our core, everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants that affection, everyone wants to know that the work that they do gets that kind of love and attention back in the right way. And a lot of times, it just doesn't because you know, you said before, you have that moment in your head where your hand does what your head is actually thinking, it's awesome.

F: Yes.

J: It is subjective because what your head is now telling your hand to do something, it does it, you're like, "This is great," you show it to someone, and they're like, "Meh," and that's just, you know, it takes the wind completely out of the sails. Shaun, you've been writing comics now for how long?

S: I don't even know, man.

J: It's been a while, right?

F: It's been a long time.

S: Yeah.

J: By the time this comes out, Shaun will have published his fourth book, Wizard Beach for BOOM! Studios. And it's important because the books that you write, Shaun, are really not your traditional comic stories.

S: I try not to do what's been done before. I feel like if I did, what's the point?

F: Mhm.

J: Right.

S: You know? I also feel like what you guys were just talking about, you know, doing this for a period of time. You have to get to the point where it's kinda like, "Well fuck everyone." No one's gonna- not everyone's gonna like everything you do, right? So, for me and the people who are on my team, and my artist and my editors and letterers and colorists and everything, as long as we're happy, that's all that matters. If we're happy with what we put out, when we were in a band, we put out a record together, who cares what this one thinks or that one thinks? What matters is if we're happy.

J: Yeah.

S: That to me is what drives me and what my goal at the end of the day is.

F: In being say like, the sole writer of some stuff, right? Do you take input from say like, not co-creators but like, people that are drawing it or inking it, or stuff like that?

S: Oh absolutely. Absolutely.

F: So there is that collaborative.

S: Oh, comics are very collaborative. I mean, that's why it's important to work with people who are on the same wavelength as you are. And I feel like every book that I've been on, you know, the team behind it, the artist, the colorist, the editors, I feel like, first thing it's important to get your vision across. And after that, you know, it's important that they see what you're trying to do, and they help you get there. They're not trying to control it or trying to change it, they're trying to help you get to where you wanna be. I've been lucky enough to do that, and I feel like that's something that you know, I've done only create your own stuff so far, and I feel like I don't wanna do- I'm not interested in doing mainstream stuff because I feel like once you get into mainstream comics, that's when it becomes, you have 10 people over you, telling you what you can and cannot do, and at that point, is it even really your book anymore?

F: Right.

J: Right.

S: You know what I mean?

F: Yeah, I can see that. I can see that. I can see there being a lot of red tape and rules that you're gonna have to follow with an already established character.

S: Absolutely. Yeah.

J: So how is it different, Shaun, say than being in a band? We've all been in a band together, we've all played in bands where you- in a lot of ways, you're right. Your editor, your collaborating with the editor, the editor is giving you feedback, the editor is throwing ideas at you, but they're not sitting directly across from you when you're writing what you write. Like, in a band, you're in a room with 4 other dudes, or how many other people, you're looking people dead in the eye, you're coming up with ideas on the spot, you're riffing on it, you're bouncing it off together, like, what you do is, and I admire you so much for it. Like, the ability that you have to actually sit in front of a computer and just type things out, and write the books that way you do, I think that's an amazing gift. But you don't have to do it with anyone else looking at you. You get to do it as a singular pursuit. What's that like?

S: It's interesting because I look at it as very much like being in a band.

J: Right.

S: You know? I come to you with this riff I wrote, and then Frank's like, "Oh, I'm gonna play these chords over it," or Hambone's like, "I'm gonna play this bassline over it." And it's like, it's the same thing with comics. I'm gonna come to you with this idea, you know, sometimes you go with just an inkling of an idea, sometimes you go with a full blown out story. And then everyone gets together and they, being in a band obviously happens a lot faster, because you're right here. It's not over email and whatnot, but it's the same type of idea, you know? Everyone's collaborating, throwing in, and the goal and what the goal should be is to make what you're doing the best it can be, you know? If people start having egos, "I want this, I want that," then you need to get out.

J: Yep.

S: You know what I mean?

F: Yeah. I think that's always been such a pitfall of say like, a young artist is that like, "Just because I wrote it doesn't mean it has to be in the song or in the story."

S: Of course.

F: You know.

S: Of course. And that's something-

F: That's the thing, that's how you end up like, "Oh, this song is 27 minutes." Like, "Oh well, yeah."

S: We've done that.

F: "We had to get back to that main riff 16 times."

J: "I have this one shitty preset on this keyboard, and this jungle beat has to be in this song." "It doesn't fit the song at all." "It's fine, we're just gonna play it at the end."

F: "Yeah, we're just gonna put it in there."

J: "Just not gonna say anything about it."

F: "Just shove it in there."

J: Yeah.

S: But that's something that you learn over time in any medium, I feel like. You can be so sentimental about your ideas and creativity because you start off with this, but then that led to something else.

J: Right.

F: Right.

S: You know what I mean?

J: So let me ask you this, Shaun. Keeping in this theme now, you've done different comics for different studios.

S: Right.

J: You did Art Ops for Vertigo, you did the Killjoys for Dark Horse, now you're doing Wizard Beach for BOOM.

S: Right. I did Neverboy for Dark Horse too.

J: Did Neverboy for Dark Horse as well, right?

S: Yeah.

J: So is that like, say, working with different bands? Like, when you're working with a new editor, or working with new artists, and stuff like that? So it's different atmospheres?

S: Absolutely. Absolutely, it is. And that's why it's important to, you know, you wanna get to know these people a little bit before you jump into something.

F: Right.

S: You know what I mean? Like, even if it's from, you know, colleagues and people, your friends in the industry, and this person's great to work with and blah blah blah. You need to have a little kinda background, or even picking up books that they've done in the past. Like, what kind of books have they edited, what kind of stories are they doing? Are they, you know, if I'm gonna bring a story like Neverboy about an imaginary friend to a guy who only does war comics, that's not gonna work.

J: Right.

S: You know?

J: However though, you did Neverboy with Tyler-

S: Jenkins.

J: And he did, which I revere as one of the best comics to come out in the last 10 years, he did Peter Panzerfaust.

S: Right. That's interesting too because then you have an idea where you see someone's art and you're like, "Maybe he's only done this up to this point." You know?

J: Yeah.

S: Like, if you see a guitar player. You know, look at Ray Toro for example, he's a thrasher on the guitar, but then he can go back and play this classical kinda stuff, you know?

J: Yeah.

S: So you see something in there that you wanna maybe get out a little more.

F: Yeah. You see that there is versatility there.

S: Absolutely.

F: And you actually kinda expand upon it. One of the things I think about, say like, writing comics or writing books and of that nature, that I am envious of, yet also, I wonder if you are envious of the other side is, that you know like, being in a band and playing songs, sometimes you have to recreate those songs every night for a live show. But in doing that, sometimes those songs can kinda get fleshed out a little bit more, and you can expand upon them and they change, and you're able to, I guess, still be creative within a work of art that you've already made.

S: Right.

F: Is that something that you miss in the writing process, or is that so awesome that you don't have to worry about recreating it every night, and doing it in front of people live?

S: I feel like, I mean, there's upsides and downsides to both. I feel like a lot of people, you put out a book, you put out a record, I feel like a lot of people feel like they're defined by that one thing.

F: Right.

S: Whereas, you're not. This is just one thing you did, and then I'm gonna go do something else. I feel like a lot of people get caught up if something got bad reviews and whatnot, it's gonna bring them down to a point where they're just miserable, and it's like, you move on and you do something else.

F: But like, alright so say, with Neverboy. Issue 3 of that, if you were to get to, if you have to like, recreate that every night for a month.

S: Oh right, right.

F: Would it change and evolve?

S: Absolutely.

F: You know?

S: Absolutely.

F: Is that something that you maybe miss within this art form?

S: Yeah. You know, it's interesting because when you're writing, there's not one way to do it. Some people like to outline the whole thing first, and then go write it. Some people like to do it as they're writing it, and comics is so- precise 22 pages per issue, you can only fit so much, so many panels on a page.

F: Right.

S: So comics benefits from having an outline. However, having a very detailed outline prevents you from that kind of off the hook creativity that you would get if you were just stream of conscience writing.

F: Yeah.

S: But on the other hand, it's like you know where you're gonna end up. You know where the story's going. You know, it's like playing jazz in a club.

F: I like having restrictions and trying to use those barriers as inspirational tools. You know, sometimes that can kinda help with the process, you know? Being like, "Alright well, if I'm gonna write this song, if I can only do it with 8 notes," try to do something like that. Like, just see where it takes you, you know? Maybe you end up breaking that rule or what, but it gets you to a certain point and that's kinda fun.

J: It's challenging.

F: Yeah.

J: It's challenging instead of just verse, chorus, verse, hit the bridge, go home.

F: Yeah, just setting up different exercises for yourself and seeing what comes out.

S: Well sometimes that's where the best stuff comes. You'll write yourself into a corner, "How the fuck am I gonna get out of it?" You know what I mean?

F: Yeah exactly. Yeah. So alright well that's a question. When you're writing a book,right, and you need, what is it? Like a 6 issue story, right? Or like, story arc. Do you know where you're gonna end up at the end of it, or do you sometimes just start writing and be like, "I'm just gonna see how I can get the fuck out of this."

S: No, you should have an idea. Sometimes that changes during the course of writing it. But I feel like if you don't have an idea of where you're gonna end up, you're gonna have to go back and do a lot of fucking editing.

J: Yeah.

S: When you're done. You know what I mean? Some people do that. Usually when you're writing comics for these publishers and stuff, you're on a deadline and you don't have that luxury to just go off and free write for 6 issues and see where you end up, and then go back and edit the whole thing. I know someone like Stephen King for example, he comes up with this situation in his head and then just goes off and writes, and then when he's done he'll go back and edit it.

J: Right.

S: So if you saw his first draft, it would look nothing like the finished book. Comics, you don't have that luxury because you're on a timetable. You have to get the script in because the artist has to draw it and the colorist has to- and if you don't do it, then this one doesn't get paid, that one doesn't get paid. It's this whole stream of-

F: Oh god, that's so stressful.

J: That's gotta be so stressful.

F: Especially for me, because I'm such a fucking asshole when it comes to that kind of stuff. I'm like, yeah I'll butt fuck a song to the last possible second and make everybody hate me, and then go back to the original fucking version at the last second, you know what I mean?

J: Hey man, it's your nickel, you know?

F: Yeah.

J: So Shaun, how do you feel about say, you know, most of the stories that you tell are usually about 6 issues, sometimes just a little bit more. Is that something you prefer to do? Like, you're telling short but complete stories in a medium.

S: I would like to tell it even shorter.

J: Really?

F: Really?

S: Yeah, I feel like if you can tell something in 8 pages-

J: Right.

S: I mean.

J: Yeah, I mean, look, we all came up loving punk rock. We know less is more, all killer no filler. That's one of the things that I appreciate most about your style of writing, si that I know that I'm gonna get a complete story. You know, start to finish and some things, you kinda want more and you kinda are like, "Oh man, it'd be cool. Hopefully, maybe he does something else with it. Maybe he does something more with it." But you know, some of the best things that I've watched recently were like, "Oh, it's 1 season. This is all it needs to be. We're just doing this and we're gonna call it a day." So that's cool. That is, is that something that maybe you wanna do eventually, write a whole 700 page novel or-?

S: You mean prose? Yeah. I have prose stuff in the works right now. I've had that for a while. And it's interesting because it's very different from comics. Comics is very visual, you're looking. This is what we want you to see. When you're writing prose, it's your imagination. These are some words, take out of it what you get, you know what I mean?

J: Yeah. Awesome.

F: Yeah. I'm sorry, I'm just mulling that for a second.

J: Yeah.

F: To try to think of like, to go from the one medium which is so visual, and is showing you action without you actually having to kinda spoon feed it to a reader, and then having to- you know, then going to like a prose work and having to kinda, detail what's happening that's not being said, but it's actually happening and you have to make it flow.

S: But I feel like that's what's interesting and writing a comic script is like writing a screenplay. You're very direct, the shorter you are, the better. You wanna get, it's almost like directions, you know? This is your recipe. Whereas, prose it's like, you know, words are fun. You could come up with like, really interesting ways to say anything.

J: Yeah.

S: You know what I mean? And get any kinda imagery in your head.

J: See, I've always thought of a novelist as a writer, and half of an artist. And the half of the artist comes in where if you're reading a comic, you know, you tell the artist, "I kinda want this," and then they draw it out, so you visually get to see it. With a novelist, with you writing prose, you're actually painting the image or giving the broad strokes of that image to the reader, where they're gonna flesh it out in their own head. They're gonna visualize it in their own head, their own way. So you're kind of half the artist, right? You're kinda getting them to the set, nd they're gonna paint it themselves. Which I think is amazing.

F: How do you feel about, I guess, like alright say, maybe this is a premature question but, to write a novel and have people kinda fill in the blanks of, you know, what characters look like, or what things are actually happening, and then finding out about that later. Because I feel like that's a lot like, you know, writing songs where a listener kinda makes up their own interpretation of what that song's about, and you know, what it means to them. And sometimes you're like, oh that's, you know like, I love that it lives on in their imaginations. But when they get it so wrong, and you're like, "Oh, no. Goddamn it!"

J: Yeah, I think that's the dad. "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed."

F: Just disappointed, yeah. "So disappointed in your imagination."

J: Well I mean, but that's any kind of storytelling. I remember Kevin Smith used to hang out at this comic shop in Red Bank, Jay and Silent Bob's Secret Stash. I remember after seeing Chasing Amy I was down there with our friend Ian, and I went in, Kevin Smith was there. And I was like, I was young. This is a billion years ago. I was like, "Can you- what happened at the end of Chasing Amy?" And he looks at me, he's like, "What do you think happened, man?" And I'm like, "No man, I want you to-"

F: Oh man!

J: "Just fucking tell me."

F: Alright, Steve Albini.

J: "Just tell me, man. I've tried to figure this out on my own, like-"

F: Yeah.

J: "Talk to me like I'm a little kid, because I am." Like, you know?

S: I feel like if you're that-

F: "Hold my hand."

S: If you're that abstract, you're not really doing your job as a storyteller.

J: Right.

S: You know? If people are confused by what you're doing, and they don't understand what you're doing-

J: Yeah.

S: You're not doing your job.

J: There is that side of it, as well.

F: But what if that's what you wanted?

S: Well that's different. If that's what you're going for, you know? I mean, I'm all for surreal and abstract stuff. If you're telling a, if I'm telling a story in a comic, I want you to know what's happening. I want you to give a shit about these people it's happening to. You know what I mean?

J: Yeah. You know, it's interesting because I was actually sitting next to our friend George on the couch today, when he was like, "Hey, can I reach out to Shaun to tell him that I liked his book?" And so, our friend George texts you something along the lines of, he's like, "Your book is like Arc Rum and Mobius on like 70s psychedelic fever dream."

S: Yes, right.

J: And I saw that. When he- because he's a writer as well.

S: George is great.

J: And he said it, and I was like, "Wow, that is so on the money," yet I completely understand what's going on in the story, and I don't lose a step reading Wizard Beach, because I'm buying into it. It's stimulating my eyes, it's stimulating my brain, and I know what's going on.

S: Well here's the thing. The simpler the story, the more room you have to kinda go off and do all the weird and abstract stuff. If you had this big complicated story, it's a lot harder to do that kinda stuff.

F: I think that translates to music as well.

S: Absolutely.

F: You know?

S: Sure.

F: You start getting too busy, and you're gonna kinda lose all the intent and all of the power behind it.

J: Oh absolutely. As they say, 10 times of shit in a 5 pound bag.

F: But the bag's Gucci.

J: But the bag's Gucci. It's fine! Yeah. That's the equivalent of "I just went and bought a bunch of nice guitars and gear, but I don't know how to actually use it."

F: Yes, yes.

J: So we're gonna wrap up this episode and we will do a little more next time on writing processes. You guys have any final thoughts before we close it out?

F: You guys want another shot of that?

S: No.

J: No!

S: God.

J: No.

F: Never again? Never again?

S: Fuck.

F: Alright, I see how it is.

J: Yeah, so join- join us next month for another episode of Casual Interactions, where we definitely will not be drinking Malört again. So for Frank Iero and Shaun Simon, I'm John "Hambone" McGuire. Until we meet again, hold onto your friends.

[ahiddenpath]

Creepy dream

What’s going on, subconscious?  Are you... okay?

I wanna give this some kind of trigger warning, but I... can’t?  How would I...  Warning: grotesque strangeness????

OKAY SO don’t ask me why, but Eimi and Koushiro were in some kind of Amazon river???  Splashing around?  Because what else does one do???  And then BAM HIPPOPOTAMUS and that fucker was all RAAAAH I EAT CHOO

And it tried to eat my babies!  How dare!

And then a boto (Amazon river dolphin) was like, “I SAVE YOU!” and jumped at the hippo!  BUT THEN THE HIPPO SLURPED IT DOWN LIKE A PINK NOODLE, HOLY SHIT!  And then it ate Eimi, JESUS CHRIST!

And Koushiro stumbled out of the water, and then there was this scientist guy, and I guess they caught the hippo and opened it up?  And the scientist was like, “Don’t worry, here she is!” and he...  handed...  Koushiro... a piece of Eimi’s... jaw?  Like... a hunk of viscera with a row of human teeth poking out?!?!?!  

Koushiro flipped his shit (the only sensible thing to happen in this dream), and the scientist was like, “Dude, I’m trying to help you.  I’ll regrow her body from this.”  Which... what?

Okay, so the scene fades, and suddenly dreamworld is a silent tundra.

There’s cute little arctic foxes and bobcats and stuff.  And then Eimi’s disembodied voice rolls over the mountains, singing The Flower Duet (both parts at once, because this scenario was already too normal).  And the animals all look up, and somehow there isn’t an avalanche, and the camera pans against glistening snow and sparkling trees.

And THEN, jarringly, Eimi is walking through an office absolutely crammed with programmers at desks.  They’re packed in like sardines, elbow to elbow, long tables with tiny partitions separating work stations.  Each station is labeled with a number and a name, and Eimi can’t find what she’s looking for.  She asks for directions from the nearest programmer, who gives her a strange look before answering.

She follows the instructions, and the perspective shifts to her eyes.  She’s looking down at a horribly gaunt Koushiro- the skin under his eyes seems collapsed in.  When he sees her, his expression suggests that he’s aware he’s lost his mind.

And suddenly, we see that Eimi is translucent, that her feet don’t touch the ground.  Without a word, Koushiro stands and follows her- there’s a sense of resignation, not joy.  It’s sort of like...  “Well, clearly I’m mad.  I might as well see what I’ll see.”

The background fades to black, and he follows, follows, follows.  Slowly, details emerge, and he’s standing in a dim room, lit only by a floor-to-ceiling tube filled with water.

Projection Eimi is gone.  Her body floats in the tube.

And I wake up like

GOOD GOD.

[thoughtsofdarc]

Coffee at the library

Steve Rogers x Reader Pure Fluff , maybe a little warning against stress during studying? Words: 4996

(and as always, I would really love feedback - I wanna improve!)

Hours that feels like days, that’s how long I’ve been here at the library.

Reading, taking notes, writing page after page in a soul crushing attempt of getting my mind wrapped around this huge school assignment that’s going to count for 50% of my finals. A part of me dreads that I will never be done. I will fail miserably and end my days as a stripper in some dark and shady club.

A big sigh of defeat leaves me, as I put down my pencil.

My back is sore, my neck stiff and my butt is numb from sitting on the hard library chairs for so long without moving.

I roll my shoulders a bit back and forth, trying to get the blood flowing again and get the tension out of my body.

As I stretch my back with my hands high above my head, I hear a loud cracking noise coming from the top of my spine and travels to the bottom. God, it feels good.

I’ve been bottled up in my own little world of studying for so long, that I haven’t seen the people come and go around me.

To my right there’s a couple of girls I’ve seen around school. They too are hard at work at some unknown assignments. One of them chewing her pencil with a frustrated look on her face. “I know how you feel, girl!” I think to myself.

At one of the many book cases is a guy, holding an already big pile of books. He’s searching for another one, and is so completely focused in his task, that he doesn’t notice the redhead girl standing in front of him, reading the back of a book cover.

I watch what happens like it was a movie playing in front of me. I could have warned him, but for some reason I don’t.

He walks into her back, both of them jump by the sudden disturbance of their concentration. He drops the pile of books from his hands in shock, and immediately starts to apologize his clumsiness to her.

They both bend down to pick up the scattered books on the floor and bang their heads together, which just makes him apologize even more.

I can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s clearly not mad as she sends him a dazzling smile and put her hand on his forearm in reassurance. It’s cute how he blushes, and even cuter how they both reach out for the same book and instead grasp each other’s hands.

I can’t help but to smile at that little happening. It’s like taken out of the perfect romantic movie.

I secretly hope he asks her out. It would be the perfect story to tell their future kids, ‘I met your mother at the library, almost knocking her over with my big pile of books. She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen…’

I look around, taking in the surroundings and the people around me. An old couple looking at books together. More students. A couple of kids by the comic books. A mother with a baby on her arm, looking like she could lay down on the floor, curl up and sleep for hours.

I love to people watch, and a big library like this, gets all kinds of types to come.

I’m about to pick up my pencil again and turn my focus to the books, when I notice the guy sitting at the next table right in front of mine.

Jesus Christ, he is gorgeous!

My hand has frozen mid air above my pencil case, and I’m embarrassed to say… I just stare with my mouth slightly open.

He is extremely good looking, not the kind of guy you usually picture in a library, more likely on the football field or maybe in a fitness center.

He has dirty blond hair that’s slightly tousled as if he has been pulling it in frustration. His jaw line is to kill for, with a nice scruff covering it. I’m pretty sure it would cut me if I touched his jaw. Oh God, I want to touch his jaw!

Broad shoulders that are hunched over the books on the table, Muscles straining against his navy blue t-shirt, big arms that makes my thoughts go right to the gutter. His biceps, slightly moving when he scribbles or turns a page in one of the many books.

Under the table, his long legs are stretched out showing off his immensely strong thighs. Holy shit, the images going through my mind! Oh, what a girl could do on those thighs. Naughty naughty!

That guy is pure hotness, and images that isn’t suited for a library is running through my mind.

I can’t seem to get my eyes off of him, and I think he senses that, because suddenly he looks up and looks right to me.

I look right into the most beautiful set of eyes. Light blue, with a hint of green in them, framed with a darker shade of blue. Just stunning!

At first he looks at me with a bit of confusion. The look of someone coming back to reality after being concentrated for a very long time.

But his confused frown quickly gets erased by an amazing, breathtaking smile.

Literally breathtaking, I forget how to breathe for a few seconds, before I get myself together and smile back at him and then look down to my books again. Red heat is creeping up and staining my cheeks.

When I look up again he is back to work, focusing on whatever he is writing. But now there’s a light smile on his lips.

Jesus, that guy is dreamy!

Guess who’s back… In the library… Buried in books and ready to give up all of this studying, to become a burger flipper at some cheesy burger joint. Yes, it’s me…!

The library is buzzing today. Quiet buzzing, it is after all a library, but there’s a lot more people today than there’s been the last couple of days. Yeah, I should know, I’ve been here every day for 5 days, and I’m not done yet.

It’s that time of year, where everybody is working on some sort of big assignment, and apparently today is ‘going-to-the-library-day’ for everyone.

I don’t mind though, everybody seems to be occupied by their own things, so there’s not really any disturbance. And I get to people watch again, whenever I take a break from the books.

I can’t deny I’ve been looking for that guy the last couple of days, the blue eyed god of handsomeness I like to call him now. And 3 out of 5 days he has been there in front of me, distracting me with his good looks and frustrated grunts when his paper isn’t going as smoothly as wanted.

We’ve been smiling hello and goodbye smiles when either of us arrives or goes home. Even a few “I feel you, this is shit” smiles, when one of us makes just a tad too loud sound of frustration. But that’s it….unfortunately.

And today he’s not there to distract me with thoughts of not that much pureness. Maybe that’s for the better.

I chuckle a little to myself, and start looking around.

The red haired girl is back again second day in a row. Casually strolling through the section from the other day. She keeps looking around though, so I’m not sure she’s here for the books.

I catch her eyes and send her a warm smile. Whatever or whoever she is looking for, I hope she’ll find. But I have a great idea of it being a who, a guy with a big stack of books to be exact.

Geez, the cheesy romantic movie scenario in my mind won’t stop. I’m a total sab aren’t I? But I do love a good love story.

Please book-guy-dude come and find your book-girl with the fiery red hair and the dazzling smile. She’s looking for you.

My focus returns to the books with a smile on my lips, a new energy is suddenly in me, and I’m soon lost for the world around me again.

What is that? My mind knows that smell… Oh god, its coffee! Who am I going to beat up to steal their coffee?

My head snap up to find the one with the delicious smelling brew, but instead of coffee, I see him.

Even with tired eyes and hidden in a big hoodie he looks absolutely mouthwatering.

He does look utterly beat up today though. I don’t think he has slept in a while. And my, up till now non existing maternal instinct is suddenly awoken.

All I want to do is to wrap him in blankets, give him a tight hug and rock him gently from side to side until he is sound asleep like a kid in its mother’s arms. Where did that come from?

The protecting feeling is swept aside as fast as I got there, when I get a whiff of the coffee again.

Dammit, I really need coffee!

My eyes and nose search for the magic elixir of life, and find a girl just 2 seats beside me, with a big beautiful cup of mocha.

“Excuse me, girl with the coffee” I whisper not to disturb other people around us. She looks up, kind of confused but then gives me a smile to continue. “Where did you buy that?” I point to the large paper cup with the plastic lid, spreading the wonderful aroma around us. She looks quickly at the cup and then back to me “outside the library, they put up a small coffee stand. They do that every year around this time, for all of the students working on their big projects”. That is words from the mouth of an angel I think to myself. “Would you mind looking after my things while I go grab a cup?” I ask probably looking like a lost puppy by the thought of coffee being so close to me, yet so far.

She chuckles and gives me a nod.

I quickly grab my purse and stand while whispering a hushed thank you.

On my way out there I walk right past the Blue eyed God of handsomeness, he looks up as I pass giving me a tired defeated smile.

And there comes the motherly instinct again, I just want to hug him and tell him that everything is going to be alright. I don’t though, but I do give him a knowing smile back.

The coffee stand is bigger than I thought it would be. It’s clear that they have been here before, and knows just what the students want.

Coffee, muffins, fruit, chocolate and much, much more.

My mouth starts to water, and I suddenly remember that I haven’t eaten in hours.

The man behind the stand looks at me with a big great smile. Of course he does, I’m here to give him my money for overpriced coffee and a snack.

I try to be a bit annoyed by the fact that he’s earning his money on poor students, that’s too tired to go home and make a proper meal, but truth be told I just can’t. He is an angel send from above with small gifts of life to us mortals.

I give him a big smile back and order the biggest cup of coffee, a chocolate chip muffin and an apple too… You know, to keep healthy and all.

As he starts to prepare the things, my mind wanders to the tired good looking man back at the library and before I even know what I’m doing, I order another big coffee, milk and sugar on the side and of course another muffin. Everybody needs a little sugar now and then right?

I thank the man and tells him that he’s a lifesaver as I start walking back, to which he gives me a heartfelt laugh and tells me, that I’m not the only one who has told him that today. I believe him.

Looking at the people leaving the library, almost all of them looks tired as hell, and I can only imagine that they are there, doing the exact same thing as me, working on one of the biggest papers of their life, ever.

As I near my spot I pause briefly at the blue eyed God, and put down the tray with the coffee and muffin on it.

I don’t say anything just go back to my seat and gets settled in again.

When I look up he is watching me with a puzzled look on his face, which only makes me laugh a little, while I raise my cup towards him in a silent toast. “To struggling students and good grades my friend!” I think to myself.

Gratitude is written in his face and he gives me a little nod as a thank you, a bright big bright smile, and blue eyes that suddenly seems a bit more awake and makes my heart skip a beat.

With thousands of butterflies in my stomach and a last smile to the man in front of me, I head back to the books. This paper isn’t going to write itself.

A week and 2 days, and I’ve been here every day for at least 4 hours, most days more.

The paper is coming along slowly but steady. I start to feel like I can actually get this done, even if I might be left with a bald spot from all the frustrated hair pulling I’ve done over the last week.

Even if it is going forward with the paper, today isn’t a good day. I have barely written anything, and I’m so, so, so very tired.

And I’ve spent more time watching people around me, than I’ve done writing or reading.

Coffee-angel is in her spot beside me with her friend on the other side of the table.

The red-fire-hair girl has found the book-guy-dude and they have spend time together with, what I guess is studying, the last few days. I can’t help to watch them now and then, and I catch them both looking at the other person when they are not watching, with adoration in their eyes. If this isn’t ending with little red-haired book-loving kids, there’s no justice in this world. They’re so cute together, and they don’t even know it yet!

In front of me is the blue eyed God of handsomeness, and he has been there ever since the day with the coffee. Reading, writing, sighing in frustration, giving small outbursts of happiness when he cracks the code of a problem he’s been working at and best of all, sending me more of those breathtaking smiles.

We have become kind of a group, without even knowing each other. Coffee-angel with friend, red-fire-hair girl and her book-guy-dude, blue eyed god and myself. I like it!

I look down to my books again, the letters are twirling around on the pages as if they were doing a ballet and they don’t seem like they want to stop any time soon.

I probably should pack up my things and go home to get some rest, but I can’t make myself do it.

I. Need. To. Finish. This. Paper!

My head hit the table with a loud thud and a bit too loud of a groan escapes my mouth, but right now I don’t care!

I don’t care about anything! Maybe I might actually be good at flipping burgers, or taking off my clothes for money. It almost seems like a great alternative right now.

I put my arms under my head and close my eyes… Just five minutes, then maybe the letters has stopped their ballet routine of the swan lake.

My eyes snap open so fast, that I’m afraid they are going to pop out, when someone puts a hand on my shoulder. Shit, did I fall asleep? Did I snore? Please god, tell me I didn’t snore in a full library.

I slowly look up and into the bluest eyes in the world. The blue eyed God is crouching beside me, his hand on my shoulder, his thumb drawing little circles on my neck.

Like a flick on a switch my heart starts to beat faster, and I’m sure it’s going to jump out of my throat. With wide eyes and a big gulp I try to get my beating heart back down where it belongs. But I must look crazy because he gives me a side smirk and his eyes are kind of teasing.

“Oh god! Did… Did I snore?” I ask in a hushed whisper, dread is painted in my face, I can feel it!

He looks amused but his smile becomes a little shy, his hand is still on my shoulder though, and it feels so warm.

“No, you didn’t. I think I stopped you from falling totally asleep” he looked my right in the eyes, with amusement playing in his.

“I thought it was about time to pay back what you did for me the other day, you look like you need it”. His smile was genuine and kind as he put a tray with a large coffee, a chocolate chip muffin and an apple in front of me.

My eyes go back and forth between him and the tray a couple of times, before it really sinks in what he’s done.

“Wow… I mean… Thank you! You didn’t have to do that though” I manage to find a truly thankful smile and put it on my lips, instead of the strange one I assume looked like I was confused and maybe even in pain.

“I know, and neither did you. But I wanted to” he said, again with that damn, breathtaking smile of his. I’m sure he knows exactly what he’s doing to women with that smile. He’s God damn beautiful.

“Thank you” I whisper again, and he gives my shoulder a squeeze before standing up and walks back to his place in front of me.

Hours suddenly flies by without me even noticing. Getting more done than I have the last 2 days.

But best of all, several smiles and looks gets shared between me and my handsome savior.

Over 2 weeks in, and I’m more than halfway done. I can finally see the end of the tunnel and the prosperity of me being a stripping burger flipper is starting to fade out. Thank God for that!

A few days after the blue eyed God brought me coffee, he came to the library and found his spot taken. I was already in my seat, Coffee-angel and friend at the other end of the table.

Red-fire-hair girl and book-guy-dude at the other table, side by side closer than ever (this is going the right way, I have a few good names for your kids in the future).

But his spot was taken, by two guys with laptops and books all over the place.

He looked lost and misplaced at the same time, until he saw me and the empty space in front of me.

A silent glance to the empty chair and a questioning nod of his head, he asked to join my table. I, of course, nodded yes. Maybe a bit too fast, but who the hell cares, he was going to sit even closer to me that day.

A relieved look in his eyes he walked over to me and started unpacking his things.

That was 5 days ago, and we still sit at the same table, even though his spot is empty almost every day again.

I guess he has a new place to sit, not that I mind. I really don’t mind!

We switch between getting coffee for both of us, not even questioning the other when it happens. We’ve talked a little here and there, but nothing major. Most of the time is spent on studying, and for some reason that seems to go so much smoother now.

Almost too smooth… With this pace my paper will soon be done and I won’t have a reason to come back and sit here in from of the blue eyed god.

That makes me sad to think about.

I must look heartbroken, because suddenly he clears his throat and whispers to me with a concerned look in his eyes “hey, are you okay?“

I stare at him and watch how his brows furrows, small wrinkles shows between his eyes… It makes him look utterly adorable.

I smile at him, not sure the smile really reaches my eyes and just nod. “yeah, yeah… I’m fine, just tired you know. This paper is sucking the life out of me” I chuckle a little which seems to make him relax a bit. “Yeah I know, they really know how to keep us busy don’t they?” he gives me that side smirk I’ve fallen in love with the last couple of days  before looking back to his own papers.

I study him for a while, trying to remember as many details of him as possible for when the day comes, and we’re no longer going to meet like this at the library.

My attention gets caught be the red-fire-hair girl and the book-guy-dude. She is sitting with her head in the books, completely engulfed in what she’s reading and completely oblivious to how he is looking at her. That is so very clearly love, that is painted in his eyes. Lucky girl.

He is watching her, with such adoration that I actually get a kind of jealous, and makes a little sound of frustration. But the feeling of jealousy is soon forgotten when I see him, slowly, take her hand.

She looks at him, surprised at first, but then gives him the happiest smile of all, and then links her fingers with his, before going back to the book she was reading. Happiness written in both their faces.

“Finally!” I mutter under my breath expecting no one to hear, but the gorgeous man in front of me giggles and turns around to look at me.

Apparently he heard my frustrated sound and followed my gaze to the two, and saw the same thing as I did.

He gave me his handsome smile with amusement paints in his eyes “So you have been following those two too? Just waiting for him to make the move?”

I couldn’t help but laugh “Yes! Ever since they bombed into each other and he dropped all of his books. It took him long enough though”.

I couldn’t help but to be truly happy for them, who would have thought you could find love in the library?

Days have gone by, me and Mr. Blue eyes has been working in front of each other for more than 3 weeks now. Last part of those 3 weeks by the same table.

We have been talking more, especially since the day that book-guy-dude finally made his move, and I genuinely enjoy his company.

He has both brain and humor, and more than once I have been choking on a laugh trying not to make too much noise, and more than once it has failed miserably. This apparently, only has made it his mission to make me laugh even more.

And today is no different, not unless you count the fact, that my assignment is finally done.

I can feel him stare at me, and when I look up I see his teasing smile and the look in his eyes that tells me, that he is about to make me laugh… Again.

I almost start giggling, just by the looks of him, but I manage to keep a lid on it and only give him a questioning amused smirk.

He snorts trying to keep it in, tilting his head to the side to make me look over and see what he’s seeing.

I do just that, and my eyes go wide in pure horror and absolute entertainment!

The uptight old librarian woman, that for some reason always works on Fridays, the one day on the week, that the students is most giddy, has her skirt stuck in her underwear. This should be reason enough to burst out laughing alone. But what makes me crack up, is the fact that she is wearing big bright pink underpants with the words “Sexy mama” printed in big glittery letters over her ass.

I look at Mr. Blue eyed God and completely looses it!

I can’t help it, my laughter just doesn’t want to be contained anymore and it bellows out through the quiet library, while tears stream down my face. He is laughing too unable to control it and also guided along by my own uncontrollable laugh.

Coffee-girl and friend looks in horror at us, while the uptight ‘sexy-mama’ walks towards us with a stern look on her face that says “keep quiet or get out”

But as she walks past Coffee-angel and friend they get a good view of her, dare I say, sexy underpants. And the look of horror on the poor girls’ faces makes Mr. Blue eyes and myself crack up even more.

I cannot for the life of me, stop the laughter and I can see it pisses of the librarian.

She stops right beside Blue eyes and says with a hushed but very angry voice “You too need to stop this noise at once! If you can’t keep quiet at the library, you need to go somewhere else! Understood?”

He looks at her, tears of laughter running down his cheeks, amusement painted in his face and another fit threatening to burst out again, but he manage to say” Yes! Yes, I’m so sorry. We… we will stop now. Sorry”

She looks at us both, with stern eyes and no sign of having a clue of what fun means, what so ever, before giving us a quick nod and turns around. I look at Coffee-angel, because I know I will start to crack up again if I look at him, but she too is trying her damn hardest not to laugh.

And we might all have made it, if it isn’t for the fact that stuck up librarian woman drops her pen right besides the blue eyed God, and bend down to pick it up. When she does that, the ‘sexy mama’ letters get stretched to a maximum, right. In. his. Face.

That’s all it takes. Me, him, Coffee-angel, her friend and a few others nearby cracks up in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. You know the one where you can’t breathe, your stomach hurts and tears just keep falling down your cheeks? I haven’t laughed like that in ages.

She turns around and practically yells at us “out! Out now!”. If eyes could kill, we would both be so very death.

I don’t know how we manage, but we pack up all of our belongings under the watchful eye of 'sexy mama’, waves goodbye coffee-angel and her friend and walks out of the library together.

Once outside and more or less in control of our laughter, he looks at me suddenly full of concern.

“Oh man! I’m so sorry, I just got you kicked out of the library!”.

The bubbling feeling of laughter emerges from my stomach again, and I just barely wheeze out “THAT was totally worth it!“

Amusement is back in his eyes and a sly smirk pulls at his lips “No, but really… You got kicked out because of me. What about your assignment?”

I look at him and grab his arm, God dammit he is fit, and gives him a reassuring look “it’s perfectly fine. I actually just finished it about two minutes before 'Sexy Mama’ got all up in your face”.

I double over in another shriek of the giggles and he grabs my arm to keep me from falling to the ground while joining in on the fun.

When we finally get control of ourselves I notice how close we stand. I can practically feel his body warmth, and the smell of his cologne is amazing.

“Good” he says while looking me straight in the eyes “I finished mine a few days ago”. The smirk is back on his lips while he watches me struggle to understand what he just said.

“A… A few days?… Then why did you keep coming back?”

“The coffee!” he says like it was the most common thing in the world “… And the company”

And just then, I realize that he is looking at me, like book-guy-dude was looking at red-fire-hair girl, with the purest adoration in his beautiful blue eyes.

A shy smile plays at his lips while he reads my reaction. I can’t stop myself from beaming at him while I ask “Really?”.

“Yeah! I mean, where else do I find a beautiful girl, that brings me coffee, cupcakes and uncontrollable laughter at the one place where silence is expected?” he leans in closer to me, “so, what do you say? Want to grab something to eat? Like dinner? I think we’re already past the coffee date thing” he winks at me and I grin at him “I would love that!”

He looks so relieved and happy when he says “Great! I know a good place, come on” and then takes my hand.

With a smug smile on my face I look at our joined hands and whisper under my breath “Finally!” he catches my eyes again when he says “Yeah, it took him long enough” hinting to the day book-guy-dude finally made a move on - red-fire-hair girl and took her hand.

“Oh, I’m Steve by the way” he gives my hand a squeeze while properly introducing himself for the first time “Y/n” I answer looking at him thinking “you will always be the blue eyed God to me baby… Always”

Did you like this? Let me know your thoughts here. I’ll love you forever

[imhongwherethesunalwaysshines]

Falsettos Secret Snowman!

My person for @falsettossecretsnowmen was @rohdaly and I went with the prompt of a boys’ night out with Whizzer, Marvin, and Mendel. I didn’t edit this very much and I use names a LOT but yknow

1620 words, it was four and a half pages when I pasted it into google docs so I’m gonna put it under a read more because fuck that’s long

"Hey, dad?"

Whizzer made a quiet sound of acknowledgment, looking through the pictures he had taken that day and deciding which ones he wanted to keep.

"How come you and dad never hang out with other dad?" Jason asked, though the fact that he had so many dads made questions like this hard to word without it being confusing. He's worked out a nice system, though. When he's with Marvin and Whizzer, he calls both of them 'dad' and Mendel is deemed 'other dad', while when he's with Trina and Mendel, Mendel is 'dad', Whizzer is 'other dad', and Marvin is 'other other dad'.

Whizzer paused, pouting his lips in thought. "Because dad doesn't like other dad. Marv has a shitty relationship with Mendel. Kinda hates him, kid." He wasn't supposed to curse around Jason according to Marvin, supposedly it was 'a bad influence' but Jason was old enough as far as Whizzer cared to think about it, so as long as Marvin wasn't within earshot to scold him, he thought it was fine. Jason seemed entertained by it more than anything.

"Do you hate Mendel?"

"No, I think he's fine. He's the epitome of dad fashion, though. Terrible, I really should help him learn how to dress himself." That made Jason laugh, which in turn brought a smile, which eventually turned into a chuckle, to Whizzer's face.

"Then how about you take him to the mall or something?"

"What?"

"Take him shopping! C'mon, it'd be a dad adventure! A dadventure!"

"Oh god, Mendel's puns have rubbed off on you.." Whizzer shivers for dramatic effect, making Jason giggle again. "You said that just to make me cringe, didn't you?" Whizzer asks, a jokingly annoyed smile crawling onto his face.

When his question was answered by nothing but faux-innocent smile and more laughter, he stood from the table he was looking at his pictures at, walking towards Jason.

Jason, of course, knew that Whizzer's plan was to try and tickle his sides because of his awful pun, so he took off running, jumping on the couch to get more distance before zooming off toward the bedrooms in the house. Whizzer kept his pace just slow enough that he couldn't reach Jason, the two going on an all-out chase through the house.

Jason was having the time of his life, jumping on furniture and sliding over things, and Whizzer was just happy that he could make Jason happy.

They both ran past the bathroom doorway, where Marvin was standing with shaving cream still covering about half of his lower face. Whizzer stopped in front of him for barely a moment.

"Honey, it's already the afternoon, don't you shave in the morning?"

"It was a slow day."

Whizzer rolls his eyes, turning on his heel and resuming his Jason hunt.

"Oh, and Marvin? Call Mendel, tell him to come over here at noon tomorrow or something."

Marvin frowns. "Why?"

"We're taking him shopping. You may be a lost cause but that man might still have some sense left in him."

Marvin groans while Whizzer walks away, going back to chasing Jason or whatever else the kid wanted to do.

-----------

The next day, after some convincing, Marvin called Mendel and told him they were going shopping. Mendel agreed after what sounded like Trina telling him something along the lines of 'if Marvin and Whizzer are trying to spend time with you, agree. You know Jason wants all of us to get along.'

When Mendel showed up, Marvin turned to Whizzer and pouted.

"Do we have to go somewhere with him?"

"Marvin, you're gonna have to get over yourself and at least get neutral with Mendel. He's Jason's other father."

"But-"

"Do you know how much Jason lit up when I told him I didn't hate Mendel? He wants us to get along, Marv. At least try. If not for yourself or me, then... For Jason?" Whizzer gives him a small smile, making Marvin sigh.

"Fine," he groaned, dragging out the 'i', tilting his head back in a dramatic fashion, making Whizzer chuckle.

"Alright, come on, we have to go." Whizzer grabbed his hand and pulled him outside, walking over to Mendel's car.

The trio chatted while they drove, Whizzer doing most of the legwork to keep things at bay. Eventually, the conversation went from awkward small talk to an actual discussion, and Marvin and Mendel were genuinely talking and laughing. Whizzer was, admittedly, more proud of himself than he probably should have been.

Eventually, the three managed to more less reach a point of friendship. The tension between Marvin and Mendel a person would usually feel if they were within a mile radius of the pair was gone, and they were smiling. Not the forced smiles they shared back when Trina and Mendel first married, but real smiles.

Whizzer grabbed Marvin's hand and linked their fingers, walking inside the mall with Mendel on the other side of Whizzer.

Mendel was absolutely lost, he had been in here once(?) because he had to pick up Jason after he was done hanging out with his other kiddo friends. Marvin was barely any better, he'd only been in two stores that he could remember. Whizzer, however, walked through the building as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. Which, wasn't necessarily a lie, he kind of did.

Whizzer walked into a store that looked way too fashionable for Mendel or Marvin to be seen in, making sure both of the aforementioned men were still there (He only looked for Mendel, though, since Marvin was still holding his hand), and began leading them to where he intended on finding Mendel some kind of clothing.

"How did you manage to not get lost in here?"

"The better question is why are you walking towards that rack of awful clearance sweaters." Whizzer flashed a grin as Mendel turned on his heel and walked back over to the other two. "But, if you really are curious, there's an ice skating rink across the street that I work at, so I come here a lot."

"Do you ice skate because you're gay or the other way around?"

"I don't know, do you break doctor-patient confidentiality laws and marry your patient's ex-wife because your straight or the other way around?"

Marvin wheezed, pulling the hand he was holding up to his face and leaning his head against it, silently laughing. Whizzer looked down at Marvin and smirked proudly.

Mendel sighed, though he could tell by Whizzer's tone he was, in fact, joking and not genuinely bringing attention to this right now.

After about twenty minutes they ended up finding a shirt a bit nicer than Mendel's usual, and Whizzer was content with this result. Through these twenty minutes, they ended up making fun of a lot of things and generally bonding.

They were walking down to the food court, Whizzer and Marvin hand in hand, with Mendel a couple steps behind them.

"I feel left out." He says jokingly, motioning to their linked hands.

"I'll hold your hand too if it'll make you feel better," Whizzer says, looking back at Mendel, winking jokingly before devolving into quiet chuckles.

This was how the rest of the night went, sporadic moments of perfect comedic timing (And a lot of comedy free puns coming from Mendel) until eventually, Marvin glanced at the watch on Whizzer's hand and loudly shouted 'holy shit' in the middle of a store. The others both laugh as the realization of what he just did falls upon Marvin.

"I’m the bad influence on Jason? Last I checked I didn't swear at the top of my lungs in the middle of fucking Burlington." Whizzer teased, smiling at Marvin, who was looking at him with a not very convincing annoyed look.

"Anyway, why did you do that?" Mendel asks after awkwardly smiling at a few other customers that walked past the group.

"It's almost six o'clock."

"Jesus Christ I've been walking around a mall with you two for three hours..." Whizzer mutters.

"So... Time to leave then?" Mendel asks, looking around.

"I'm sure Trina misses having you around, and we should probably go back home-"

"What the hell are you talking about 'probably go home'? The only time sensitive plans we ever have is getting wine drunk early enough that I can sleep for twelve hours afterward." Whizzer interrupts, earning a laugh from Mendel and a sigh from Marvin.

"Yes, and in order to do that, we need to leave so we can get home before eight," Marvin says, giving Whizzer a look.

"Yeah, okay, let's go then."

After another twenty minute drive, Marvin and Whizzer said their goodbyes to Mendel, thanking him for giving them a ride before he left.

"Y'know, Whizzer, I think a boys' night out to a mall at three in the afternoon might be the gayest thing you've made me do."

"Marvin, you sucked my dick this morning and the mall is where you draw the line? Really?"

--

It was dark by the time Mendel got home, at which point Jason was in front of him before he could even get through the door, asking how things went and if they were all friends now and a lot of other questions that were being said too excitedly to be coherent. Mendel told him that they were definitely better friends than they were when he left the house, and Jason's face truly lit up.

"Mom invited Charlotte and Cordelia over while you were gone. All they really did was watch movies, though, it wasn't very exciting."

"I'll be sure to invite you next time I go out with your other dads."

What the fuck even are endings they aren’t even real

[warriorqueen1991]

Razorblades And Lemon juice (pt. 3)

Characters: Vampire Negan X Reader

Warnings: gore, blood and violence

Notes: thank you guys so much, I’m seriously blown away by how much you guys are enjoying this one… please do not hesitate to let me know if there’s a certain vamp Negan situation you would love to see or if you have any ideas :)

—————————————

The sun was setting lazily over the horizon, it’s remaining glow painting the sky in brilliant pinks and oranges.

The courtyard Negan had set you loose in had an old picnic table pushed off to the side.

After he had left he had returned shortly after with a basket of fruit and a loaf of bread, which had made your stomach cry out in happiness.

The creature was gonna win your heart with food alone if you weren’t careful.

Taking the basket to the table you had spent the day eating, humming to yourself and watching the ghouls patrol the fence.

You noticed there eyes would flash gold every hour making you wonder if maybe he was checking up on you.

Moving from the table you decided to do some stretches and jog around so you wouldn’t feel sluggish on the journey.

****

Having finished up with a set of thirty jumping Jacks you took a deep breath touching your toes before taking a seat on the steps by the door.

A deep sigh passed your lips as you began idly drawing in the dry dirt, letting your mind wonder.

You once again let your mind wonder to what your jailer was doing.

“Looks just like me”

Letting out an almost inhuman squeal you jumped to your feet at the sound of his deep voice.

Looking down you felt your heart leap into your throat.

You had drawn a crude stick figure with large fangs and long stick claws chasing four other stick figures with ridiculously squiggly arms.

Gasping, you quickly shoved your booted foot into the dirt, dusting the drawing in hopes of maybe salvaging the situation.

Jesus you were so dead.

Negan stared at you in amusement, his nose wrinkling as he chuckled, shaking his head. You felt like you were gonna throw up, swallowing thickly you rubbed your hands on your jeans.

“It…I…look..”

He laughed taking a seat on the step you had occupied “take a fucking breath sweetheart, I’m not gonna fucking hurt’cha”.

You continued to stare at him with a weary expression.

Licking his lip he smiled gesturing between the two of you “I like this…ya know, busting each other’s balls” his smile slowly faded as you continued to remain silent.

Dropping his glowing eyes to the ground, he sighed getting to his feet with a grunt.

“Alright princess, you ready to hit the fucking road?”.

You nodded holding your arm to your chest “sorry about the…” he rolled his eyes leaning back with a dramatic groan.

“Fuck darlin it’s fine”

Smiling slightly you watched him swat the dirt off his backside “I never did ask if you had any questions about what will be required of you here”.

Your smile quickly faded “required?”

He looked at you with a raised brow “yeah, your not fucking feeding me so I gotta find something for you to fucking do”.

You nodded “oh…ok…so uh…what do you want me to do?”

He shrugged with snort “fuck if I know”.

Noticing your confused expression he leaned forward with a wheezing laugh, gently smacking your arm.

“Fucking burn that bridge when we get to it aye dollface?”.

You couldn’t figure him out.

His emotions were all over the place.

What kind of monster threatens someone to keep them company?

But then again, it was obvious he had been alone for awhile.

The possibility that all he wanted was a friend made your heart ache, nothing about the stories you had been told as a child were adding up.

Ware was the monster that had slaughtered a whole community, then set fire to the homes because they refused to pay him tribute?

He had a temper… that much was obvious, but he really didn’t seem monstrous to you.

You smiled gently, “thank you for the food earlier” his bright smile made yours grow.

He had gorgeous dimples.

“Don’t be ridiculous princess…” he chuckled showcasing his bright white teeth and sharp incisors bumping you with his shoulder playfully “…thank you”.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly at his almost childlike energy.

He was so odd.

“Well, holy smokes!!” his voice boomed obnoxiously as he leaned back in shock “shit, you can smile”.

You blushed pulling away from him, he continued to chuckle, moving back to the door holding his hand out behind him.

“Come on gorgeous”.

It almost scared you how quickly you took his hand, he could be playing you, luring you into a false sense of security before he drained you dry.

But he seemed to be just as surprised as you.

looking back at you, he eyed your hands before smiling gently.

“Don’t let go”

You gave him a quick nod before closing your eyes.

Your body felt weird as the sound of wings thundered around you, drowning out all other noise.

In a matter of seconds the sound faded and you were met with the soft sound of crickets and a light breeze rustling through the trees.

You sighed still gripping his hand like a lifeline, a warm puff of air bathing your hand as your eyes fluttered open as he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it softly “ok?”

You gasped, covering your uncontrollable blush and soft smile with your free hand as he released the other with a smile of his own.

Who the hell does that?

He was like something out of a romance novel, a perfect, poorly wired circuit.

“lead the way darlin”

****

The walk through the dark forest was quiet, Negan was sauntering silently by your side his soft purrs adding an odd sense of comfort to your eerie surroundings.

The soft glow of his eyes caught your attention as he gave you a sideways glance.

He looked like he wanted to say something but the sound of rustling leaves and low murmurs had him moving ahead of you. Taking cover behind a tree he motioned for you to follow.

“Ok princess, wait here until this shit’s done”.

Giving him a displeased noise he quickly silenced you with a glare.

“Don’t fucking come looking me, I’ll come to you”.

You frowned before give him before nodding.

Moving away from you, he quickly slipped into the darkness.

Leaning back against the tree you stared up at the sky, the stars were absolutely gorgeous.

Letting a smile grace your lips you closed your eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the cool breeze.

Snapping your eyes open you quickly hid behind the tree as the woods erupted in screams of death and the chaos of battle.

Gasping, you flung your hand over your lips as the sound of ripping flesh found your ears.

Mother of god, what had you done?

Panting in fear you quickly took off in the direction Negan had gone.

Pushing through the forest the small flickering of a nearby campfire lead you to a large clearing. Tumbling through the brush you tripped over something large, falling to your knees.

Your eyes widening as you took in the carnage that lay before you. Bodies were strewn everywhere, blood splattered over every inch of grass and dirt.

“Hel…help..m…me”

You lifted your gaze at the failing voice, your eyes running up the leather clad back of Negan as he drained the life from a mutilated Whisperer.

The man was staring at you with wide eyes as his lips fought to cry for help.

Letting out a soft whimper you quickly scooted back in the bloody dirt, bumping into what you had previously tripped over.

Looking down, you Screamed as your hand landed in the ripped open jaw of another corpse.

Jerking in your direction Negan let out a low growl, his jaws never leaving the flesh of the finally deceased man.

You couldn’t speak, you could hardly breath.

Dropping the corpse at his feet he stepped over it, his golden eyes flaring in anger.

“I told you to fucking stay put” he growled, his mouth and neck covered in blood.

His once white shirt now a deep crimson.

Taking three long strides he grasped your throat lifting you in the air.

“You just couldn’t fucking listen” he roared. Your eyes welled up with tears as you grasped his arm, clawing at the leather.

“Pl…please” you choked out, your face turning red as he bared his long fangs at you.

So this is how you die?

Letting out a deep breath he frowned, blinking his eyes rapidly as he furrowed his brow dropping you to the ground.

Clawing away from him you curled up at the base of a nearby tree placing your hands over your head in protection.

“I…I’m so…sorry…please don’t kill me” you gasped.

Negan’s frown deepened before he turned back to one of the small tents.

Ripping the thin fabric from the earth his golden eyes pulsed as he stared down at the four small children.

Staring up at him in fear there eyes began to glow the same soft gold as they followed him back to you.

The cold leather of his now sticky glove grasped your chin “eyes up sweetheart”.

Your lips were trembling as you lifted your head to look at him, his face was emotionless as his golden eyes bore into you.

“Take em fuckin home” he rasped rising from his crouched position.

You were shaking all over as your eyes darted to the children. They were all holding hands, their eyes distant and glowing.

You looked at him in horror “wha…what did you do?”

He grimaced “I held up my end of the fucking deal”.

Bringing himself to tower over you, he leaned down “and I expect you to do the fucking same” his voice a venomous hiss.

“Now get fucking moving” he snarled jerking you to your feet by your arm.

You nodded grasping the nearest child’s small hand, leading them into the forest. Glancing back at Negan you could’ve sworn he almost looked sad.

“You have until tomorrow night to return, don’t make me have to fucking come get you”.

His voice had lost the warm comforting drawl you had begun to enjoy.

Returned had the calloused, cold growl of the night before.

You had been a fool to fall under his spell.

You had to get away.

And to hell with the consequences.

—————————————

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