#fingers crossed xxxx

[lostmykeysie]

I have a super long comment for you about the Horcrux Hunt bcs I want to comment every chapter I read but I forget bcs I download the ao3 doc to my books app okay here we go!!!!

Agahdgdjd I just finished reading it and I loved it soooo much. Remus and regulus friendship is EVERYTHING to me. The platonic kissing!!???? As an Aspec gal this means so much to me bcs ahhhdghdhd and let’s be real those two deserved a little song after all that tension and then just cute little kisses bcs they both need a good loving friendly kiss aww. And I loved the flirtiness bcs I just know those two would constantly have such good banter and get along and I SOBBED when reg became a part of the lupin family. Also. HOPE LUPIN.!?!??? The best Hope I ever did read about. She is amazing and now the only version of Hope I accept ty very much.

ALSO also I love regulus so much and love your characterization of him and seeing his growth. Also I am autistic and I headcanon reg as autistic and there were so many moments in the way you wrote him that fit in with that that made my heart so happy UGH and some moments where I felt like he’s aspec of some sort like aro specially and wow reg my boy <3

And ugh Remus and his feels over being accused as the traitor??? Rough but also I love the angst. His complicated feelings about himself and others and I can’t wait to see him sort shit out and start healing bcs he deserves to heal and be ANGRY and sad and everything. Remus my best boy <3

Also I’m just getting into jegulus so I’m super excited to start reading the missing link!!! The way james is already slowly creeping on him agshdjd I can’t wait to see it all happen.

OKAY THATS ALL I LOVE U AND UR WORK AND U ARE AMAZONG OKAY BYE GONNA GO READ THE MISSING LINK NOW HEHEHEH :))))

Oh PS I loved Remus getting to scream and go off on dumbledore that was amazing and more people should get to scream at him.

i always download long fics to my kindle so i feel you baby!!!!!

putting my boring reply below the cut xxxxx

aspec babes deserve all the platonic kisses they want and deserve and they deserve them all xxxxx this includes me so WHY is no one kissing me platonic smooch smooch xxxxx i have said this before and i know i haven’t written it but reggie is definitely aspec xxxx

regus friendship means soooo much to me i have also said this before and i will absolutely say it again but like. i am obsessed with them. they are BEST friends. forever. they are something special that’s friends and family and more and i love them forever and they will always be besties in every single fic i write for the rest of my LIFE. and they FLIRT and i LOVE IT and hope is such a queen i feel like she deserves her own fic i also want to hug her i bet she would give the best hugs ever i bet she’s the only person regulus is 100% comfortable having those long hugs with that last arguably too long and it gets weird (this is how i feel about most hugs)

omg so i’m answering as i read so YES i AGREE i think there’s a tiny bit of me that is accidentally being a bit self insert with reg LOL ANYWAY i think we see reg very similarly xxxx

on the traitor point… a few people have said ‘how did he even forgive them in the end’ and i think that is so valid like to get over a betrayal like that from your closest friends would be so so so hard and i tried to reflect that and not just make it an easy fix because oh my god how is that not in the back of your mind always just whispering all the time??? like getting over that would be a JOURNEY so yeah it got a bit angsty haha but i feel like if anything it could have been worse it could have been unresolveable !!!! but it will never be because i am a happily ever after boy ONLY

i am a bajillion years late to this i’m really sorry i’m a pants person who is 99% offline BUT thank you so much for your consolidated comment it’s so sweet and has made me smile all lame and gross xxxx i hope you enjoy / enjoyed TML too i hope that it gave you the healed remus and the jegulus you deserve and maybe some giggles hopefully xxxxxxx thanks for being nice to me lol i honestly am so weird and lame and awkward but kiss kiss i am blushing like a loser xxxxxxxxx

[milksuu]

Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers. 

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors. 

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

 EMAIL: yone123@riotstudios.com

TELEPHONE:  XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his  protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.” 

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.” 

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place. 

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.” 

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest. 

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute. 

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.” 

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn. 

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps. 

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness. 

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.” 

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool. 

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too. 

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.” 

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.  

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite. 

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.” 

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. &lt;3

[sevi-rous]

AN ARTIST FOR AN ARTIST 📜

xavier thorpe.

word count : 1.196

genre : fluff, schoolmates to lovers (?), mutual pining

warnings : bad grammar i think, a few errors [ please ignore ! ]

being raised in a family of artistic vampires was an emotional roller coaster. there was your mother, who had a ridiculous fondness for landscape painting. your father, who enjoyed abstract paintings and portrait drawings. your brother, who was a fan of realism. and, of course, you, who was a mixture of them all.

you were walking around campus, looking for anything interesting to draw or paint. you came to a halt near the archery field and noticed xavier thorpe sitting down with his bow beside him. you turned around and sat down on the nearest chair.

you began drawing him because you found his appearance intriguing. his face shape was... pretty. of course, in your own opinion. your gaze alternates between him and your sketchbook. your fingertips were filthy from smudging the pencil. you were finished in a matter of minutes. you sighed and stood up to return to your dorm.

"oh, who's that?" inquired your roommate, yoko. you flinched and instinctively shut your sketchbook. "uh, no one. it's my oc. original character, i mean..." you said as you sat up in bed. "are you sure? that looks exactly like xavier thorpe. since when was he your 'original character?'" she asks, chuckling.

you sighed and leaned back in your bed. turning to the side "oooh, do you like him? i can set you up with him," she whistles as she walks to her side of the room. "and how will you do that? you're not even close, yoko. i think you don't even talk together," you say, sitting up again, arms crossed across your chest.

"oh shush, [name]. we're not close, but we have this secret society. i hope you understand," she said as she opened her notebook. she takes out a pen and starts writing. she then folds it into an airplane and launches it at you.

you caught the plane and unfolded the paper. It was written there,

"xavier thorpe's phone number — xxx-xxxx-xxx

thank me later, ♡"

you give her a blank look before taking your phone and leaving the room. "stay safe, my lovely [name!]," she exclaims before laughing.

you put your hood on when you noticed it was raining outside. you walked through the halls, holding the paper that yoko had given you as well as your phone. you went around in circles, debating whether or not to text him. a notification appeared as you were about to enter his phone number.

from unknown:

hey, i saw you staring. do we have a problem?

to unknown:

uh

who even r u

fom unknown:

dang you already forgot? seems like you were having a good time staring at me earlier

lol kidding

it's xavier

to unknown:

oh

sorry i stared, didn't know u saw me

from unknown:

how couldn't i? you have a very powerful aura

to unknown:

i do?

from unknown:

yeah

what do you say about meeting up rn? i'm bored

to unknown:

um sure i guess

i have nothing to do anyways

from unknown:

i know

unknown started sharing their location with you.

you ran back to your dorm room, your fingers running through your hair. you rushed through the door, grabbing your sketchbook in haste. "woah, easy [name], are you okay?" yoko asks, but you've already left. "my roomie has a crush. i can't wait to tease her about this," she sighs and laughs.

when you see him waiting for you, you hide in a corner. he was sketching something in his own sketchbook. he had airpods in both of his ears. you can tell he's lost in the music because he kept bopping his head to the beat. it's nice to see him at ease.

you approach him slowly, but he is too preoccupied with drawing. you sit next to him, peering at what he's drawing. he flinched seeing you next to him, then hugged his sketchbook as if it were going to vanish. you both look at each other in shock, but when you see his face, you start laughing.

"why are you laughing?" he inquired, removing one of his airpods and placing it in its case. he flipped the sketchbook over and placed it beside him so you couldn't see it. "your face is hilarious," you continued to laugh.

"is that supposed to be a compliment or not?" you ask, making him scoff. "we only met today, and you're already making fun of me," he said, putting his hand on his chest and acting hurt. you laughed at his antics and looked through his sketchbook. "what did you draw earlier?"

"uh, random stuff. do you want to see my ability?" he asks, his gaze drawn to yours. "sure, bet it's cool."

"oh, it is," he laughs as he takes up his sketchbook. he turns to a page where he drew a spider. he holds his hands above the drawing, and you can see the spider slowly emerge from it. "woah, that's cool. is it real?" you exclaim, your eyes wide with admiration and curiosity. "no, squish it."

you let the spider crawl onto your hands then you squish the spider. the spider vanishes into dust. xavier can't seem to take his gaze away from you as your mouth forms a 'o.'

"say... why were you staring at me earlier? at the archery field?" he asks abruptly, jolting you awake from your daydream. "oh that. um," you fiddle with your fingers, debating whether or not to show him what you drew.

you sighed, lost. you reached for your sketchbook, which was resting on your thighs, and turned to the last page. you look away from him as you hand him your book.

he silently scans the page. you were clearly thinking a lot. 'was he mad that I drew him without his permission?' 'does the drawing look bad? "Am I bad at portrai—'

when he handed you back your book, you snapped out of your thoughts. when you looked at him, he was looking straight ahead. he appeared to have a lot on his mind.

"is it bad?" you wonder nervously. you were on the verge of fleeing, too embarrassed to listen to what he had to say. he gives you a quick glance before returning his attention to the scenery in front of him.

you were about to turn away when you noticed a small smile on his face. "no one's ever drawn me. i figured no one would draw me because I'm the artist. but you did. it's nice seeing my face on your sketchbook. it's nice. really nice," he rambles, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

"actually, i've been drawing you as well. i saw you once at Weathervane and you looked... cool. i don't usually leave nevermore, but i came to stop by weathervane every single day just to see you. oh god, that... sounds creepy, sorry," he laughs nervously, avoiding your gaze.

"no, it's fine. you're cool. this is all... so cool," you say, smiling up at the ceiling. "thank you," he mumbles.

"hm? for what?"

"for drawing me."

"And thank you," you say with a smile.

he looks at you, puzzled.

"for drawing me as well."

© sevi-rous (0i8ma). do not plagiarize, copy, repost, or translate my work. reblogs are appreciated.

[peacelovepandora]

A Little Attention

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

ik i've put you all through an emotional hell with these last few fics, so I'm gifting you with something soft n sweet. just Jake playing w his young daughter.

forehead kisses to you all <3

enjoy xxxx.

Jake kept his gaze down as he sharpened his knives. The evening was young, but nocturnal creatures of Pandora were already beginning to make their presence known. As subtle noises echoed from the surrounding forest, Jake's ears twitched as he worked, keeping an ear out for foreign noises.

It didn't take long for a foreign noise to catch his attention. Jake sharpened his blade one more time before pausing. With ears flicked to the side, he listened sharply, trying to see if he could pick up the noise again.

Pat, pat, pat.

There it was. He took another moment to listen for it. After hearing it again, he saw movement at the corner of his right eye. Careful not to turn his head, he shifted his gaze to the side, only to catch a glimpse of a small body tucking itself around a corner.

A smirk pulled at his lips as his eyes returned back to his knives. He picked up his blades before resuming his sharpening motions. However, he only gained a minute of sharpening time before he caught movement in the corner of his eye again--this time on his opposite side.

Keeping his eyes trained on the moving figure, he waited until it tucked itself around the corner again before he moved. In one quick motion, he dropped everything and soundlessly sprinted away.

As you hid behind the doorway again, you bit your lip, struggling to keep your giggles to yourself. However, when you heard your father's motions grow quiet, your breath hitched.

Moving slowly, you peeked back into the doorway, only to be met with an empty room. After scrunching your small face in confusion, you allowed your curiosity to carry you farther into the room. Looking back and forth, you grew more confused by the second when you realized that your father was no longer there.

As you crept to where Jake had been working, you failed to notice the towering figure creeping up behind you.

Just as you reached his tools, Jake grabbed your sides before yelling, "Are you trying to sneak up on me?"

You screamed, turning sharply as he kneeled in front of you. "You tryin' to scare me, baby girl? Huh?" he growled playfully, holding you close to him as you giggled frantically, "Oh, you're nothing but giggles now, aren't you?"

He held you closer as he began wiggling his fingers all over your stomach and sides, making your giggles escalate to panicked laughter. "Aren't you? Aren't you?" he repeated, keeping you laughing as you squirmed wildly in his arms.

As weak as his tickles were making you, you still managed to keep your biceps pressed to your sides, preventing him from traveling any higher than your stomach and sides. However, Jake didn't miss a thing, and he smiled mischievously before trying to prod at the area under your arms.

Your laughter heightened in pitch as he struggled to wedge his pointer fingers in the spaces that you were so fiercely protecting. After switching between front and back angles, he paused as he threw his head back and laughed. You panted as you crossed your arms while nervous giggles spilled from your lips.

"You really don't want me to get to those pits, now do you?" he teased.

To test your strength, he gripped your forearms and tried to pry them apart. Though he was stronger than you by a long shot, he was highly amused by how diligent your resistance was.

After letting himself laugh one more time, he raised his hands to cup your head. Then, he pulled you in and placed a kiss on your cheek. Once he pulled away, he stood up before heading back to where he was working.

"What did you need, baby?" he asked, reclaiming his spot in front of his knives.

As you watched him resume his repetitive actions, you calmed your panting breaths before your face fell slightly. You felt the absence of his body warmth, which had been so uplifting when he was within close proximity to you.

When you didn't answer, he glanced back at you. "Hm? Or were you just spying on me for entertainment?"

As your cheeks grew warm, you quickly realized that you couldn't find the courage to explain that you simply wanted some attention from him. As of lately, he'd gotten a bit busy with Neteyam and Lo'ak--who were reaching their adolescent years and being more rebellious than ever. It had been a minute since you'd gotten your daddy all to yourself.

However, your young mind did little to hide this unease from Jake's paternal instincts. Jake stopped his movements before placing his knives down.

"Y/N?" he called, a concerned frown crossing his face, "You okay? C'mere."

When he reached a hand out, you walked over to him and allowed him to pull you close again. He placed both hands on your sides, leaning back to scan your face. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," you answered simply, making him tilt his head and eye you suspiciously.

"Y/N," Jake warned gently, "Talk, or I'm gonna coax it outta you." As he said this, his fingers began to threateningly walk up your ribs, making you giggle and slam your biceps to your sides.

"No, Daddy," you giggled, making him chuckle before stilling his hands. You waited a moment before finally answering.

"I miss you."

His smile faded as he processed your words. Then, he withheld a stunned gasp as you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Baby girl, I--" he began, returning your embrace with a few back rubs before pulling you back, "Hey." He cupped your face with his large hand. "You know I've been right here, right? I'm here whenever you need me, baby."

"You're always with Teyam and Lo'ak," you replied, dropping your gaze to his chest.

He began to answer, but cut himself off. As he reflected on the last couple of weeks, his heart dropped as he began to realize that you were correct. It had been a long time since he'd given you all of his attention--something you were so used to him spoiling you with.

"Oh . . . oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart," he apologized, gently pulling you closer, "Your older brothers are just such knuckleheads sometimes that I'm forced to give them more of my time."

As he explained this, you nodded understandingly, briefly lifting your gaze to meet his before lowering it again. However, he wasn't done, and was determined to redeem himself in your heart--a heart that he held so preciously.

"But I'll tell you one thing," he continued, gently wiggling a finger under your chin as he tilted his head down, trying to catch your eyes, "You'll always be my number one girl."

His words made a small smile tug on your lips, which brought relief to his heart. You kept your head down as he continued to tilt his head towards you, trying to catch a glimpse of the smile you were holding back.

"You got that?" he asked, nudging his pointer finger under your chin, "Hm?"

Hesitantly, you nodded, sucking in your cheeks as you struggled to keep a straight face. He smiled before crossing his legs around you, keeping you in one spot.

"Now, can I get a smile?"

Keeping your gaze down, you shook your head.

Jake raised his eyebrows. “No?”

His overly dramatic tone nearly made you crack. He leaned back, placing a hand on his chest before continuing.

“My baby girl refuses to crack a smile for me?” he asked before dropping his hand and gripping your arms.

The mischievous twinkle returned to his eyes, making your heart soar as anxious giggles began bubbling up again. However, you tried your hardest to suppress them and maintain a straight face.

“Oh, we’ll see about that," he growled.

Biting your lip, you flexed your arms as you crossed them in front of your chest, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. Your heart leapt within your chest as he easily managed to uncross them before beginning to coax them upwards.

You squeezed your lips closed as you fought his strength. Amused by your determination, he let you put up a little fight. He continued to gently push upwards while you struggled with shaking arms.

"Oh, she's fightin'," he teased, adding more strength to raise them a little higher, "She's fighting with every fiber of her itty bitty body."

The combination of the playful fight with your father, and his relentless teasing, made it harder for you to hold your ground. However, you held out, still refusing to give him the smile he so desperately wanted.

"Still nothing?" he gasped, tilting his head.

You shook your head, lips pressed tight as suppressed laughs shook your body. Jake took a dramatic breath before shaking his head.

"Alright, then."

Suddenly, he yanked you towards him before lifting you by your arms. In one quick motion, he laid you down and stretched your arms over your head. You screamed, shaking your head as he gasped dramatically again.

"No?" he asked, shaking his head with you as he imitated your desperate mannerisms.

"No! No! No!" you squealed, unable to hold your smile any longer.

"No? No? No?" Jake parroted, "Oh, we got a smile! We got a smile! Can we get a laugh?" He leaned down and blew a quick raspberry on your right hollow.

You jumped, letting out a squeal as you tugged desperately on your arms.

He smiled widely before moving his gaze to his grip on your wrists. He shifted your left wrist to his left hand, taking both wrists into one hand and freeing his right hand. Once you'd realized what he'd done, your squirming increased aggressively.

Jake raised his eyebrows at you before letting out a laugh. "What's wrong?" he asked, placing his large hand over your stomach, stilling some of your squirming.

You simply shook your head, finally beginning to release some laughs. Jake smiled before laughing with you. Then, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, soothing some of your laughter.

When he leaned up, he shook his head, endearment taking over his eyes. "I love you," he cooed, making you relax further, "and I love these giggles. But--"

You immediately tensed at his last word, making him smile again, "But, I don't think these are the genuine giggles I want," he continued, leaning in before releasing your stomach, "I think these are nervous giggles."

As he spoke his last two words, he used his free hand to poke each of your hollows, making you jump aggressively as helpless laughter immediately spilled from your lips.

"I think my baby girl is scared," he continued, reaching out threateningly as he emphasized certain words, but never making contact with your skin, "that I'm gonna attack her worst spot."

You jumped every time, laughing so hard that your cheeks began to grow sore. Jake leaned his head forward, collapsing it beside your body and shaking with his own laughter.

"God," he rasped, leaning back up, "I don't even have to do much with you. Your brothers were so hard to get a reaction out of."

Your laughter slowly subsided as you stared up at him, awaiting his next move. He released a soft breath.

"Alright," he finally spoke, "I think I'm almost done torturing you."

His words triggered your nerves, making laughter begin to bubble up once again. Chuckling, he shook his head at your instant reaction.

"However," he said, speaking over your laughter, "I wanna bring it home with your best laughs, baby. That means you gotta let me get these pits."

Your laughter heightened as you shook your head. He nodded his head, walking two fingers up your left side.

"Yes, yes, and then I'm gonna let you go, okay?" he teased, smiling as your laughter spiked when he finally reached your hollow, "Okay? I'm sorry, honey, the temptation is too much."

He only went on for about ten more seconds, knowing that you'd reached your limits. However, to you, those ten seconds felt like an eternity as he brutally attacked your most sensitive spot, wriggling his fingers against your skin.

He, then, released your arms and began using his other hand. You weren't quick enough when you lowered your arms, trapping his hands as he continued his attack.

At that point, you opened your eyes and screamed at him. He widened his eyes and playfully screamed back, mocking you completely. Then, he leaned down and blew one final raspberry in your neck.

"What in Eywa is going on in here?" Your mother's voice echoed, making Jake lift his head.

However, she didn't need him to answer as soon as she saw the position you both were in. Neytiri suppressed a laugh before forcing a stern tone.

"Ma Jake, you are going to kill our baby if you keep doing this."

"But she's such a cutie pie, watch." He blew a quick raspberry on your stomach, earning a fit of giggles from you. "See?"

Neytiri kneeled behind you, pulling you from his grasp. "Yes, she is, but I think she's had enough, don't you?"

Jake chuckled as Neytiri pulled you into her grasp. You leaned against her, obviously exhausted from all your laughing. After he stood up with Neytiri, he reached out and gently pinched your cheek.

"You ready for bed, baby girl?" he asked.

You nodded, giggling as he leaned in closer. "Yeah?" he asked, smiling reaching down to pinch your side.

"Jake," Neytiri hissed, leaning you away from him.

He pulled back, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm done."

Neytiri playfully narrowed her eyes at him before cupping your head and taking you away to bathe.

-

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[stairain]

All Aboard.

When you meet a handsome stranger on the train home, he's adamant from the moment your gazes lock that he’ll get a taste of you. 

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, female oral, cunnilingus, pussy eating, however you want to say it. If you search up images of “luxury sleeper train” you'll see my vision.  

WC: 3.4K

Traveling by train was one of the most popular methods of transportation, and luckily for you, you found the tight confines of small rows and the insistent vibration of the tracks beneath you quite charming.

Walking slowly through the dimmed lounge area, you spotted a well dressed man sitting by himself, reading a newspaper. With a smile, you walk over to him and run your fingers over the cushion of the couch he was sitting on.

“Mind if I take a seat?” You say.

The man sets his newspaper aside, giving you a polite nod of his head as he seems to look you up and down.

“Not at all,” He replies. “Please, have a seat.”

He seems friendly, but you can’t help but feel that there is perhaps something a little more to him than meets the eye. 

A flirtatious smile crosses your face at his kind words, and you take your time settling into the seat across from him. He picks up the newspaper, but his eyes don’t seem to dance across the pages like they used to, no, he was focused on you. 

You cross your leg over the other, your smooth skin peeking out from the slit of dress you wore. Waiting to see who would break the tension first, you don’t break your gaze from him. 

He notices your mischievous smile, and can’t help but smile back. He also can’t help but notice your legs, and makes no effort to hide his admiration of them. You feel a tingle of excitement as you catch him looking at your thighs, and part of you wishes you’d chosen a skirt that showed them off more.

Despite the length of your dress, he certainly does like what he sees. 

Leaning forward a bit and resting your hands in your lap, you look at him with a curious glint in your eyes.

“So, are you traveling for business, or for pleasure?”

An innocent question on the surface, but he knew better than that. You weren’t here to make small talk.

“You can call it business,” He replies, with a smirk that tells you he knows exactly what you’re up to.

As he leans back in his seat, he gives you another thorough look up and down, eyes dragging up your body and taking in every detail of your appearance. 

“And you’re here for … pleasure, I take it?” He says, with a knowing grin. The newspaper in his hand ruffles a bit.

A small chuckle leaves through your noise in a soft huff.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself just yet, sweetheart..”

Your tone is playful as you slowly start to uncross your legs. His eyes flicker down to your thighs for a moment, much to your satisfaction. A watchful gaze lingers on your legs for a split second more before moving back up to meet yours. He knows exactly what you’re up to and is more than satisfied by it. And so are you. 

“I have a proposal for you,” He says after a moment’s silence, reaching for a card in his inside pocket, which he then places on the table between you.

You lean forward and pick it up, your nimble fingers toying with the card before reading over it.

The man smiles as he watches you handle and read over the card, enjoying the way your fingers dance across the surface of the card.

The card reads simply:

Dr. Spencer Reid. XXX-XXX-XXXX

“You know what to do,” He whispers with a wink and a smile.

A small scoff leaves your lips as you slip the card into the pocket of your fur coat. “Good evening, sir.” 

You say, voice low and sultry as you stand up and retreat back to your sleeping quarters. You can feel his eyes boring holes into your body, undressing you with every sway of your hips as you walk away from him.

His gaze never leaves you as you walk away, and he can’t help but imagine what you might be hiding underneath that fur coat. He tries to imagine the curves of your body beneath the fabric, but knows that he can only guess, and his imagination would never do you justice. 

Closing the doors to your room, you shove off your coat and throw it on the ground. You bend down to retrieve the card before you step over the pile of fur and walk over to your bed, laying down on it as you reach for the rotary phone perched on the bedside table.

You rotate your finger on the dial until you’ve successfully entered his phone number. You wait a few moments as the call goes through.

The phone rings once, then twice, then three times, before a voice at the other end eventually answers.

“Hello?” a deep, masculine voice says through the receiver.

It is, of course, the same man you talked to earlier, now on the other end of the line. He sounds amused, as though he was expecting your call tonight.

“Have I reached Dr. Reid?”

The gravelly tone in your voice doesn’t do anything to mask your desire for him. You place the card on the table before toying with the cord of the phone.

He doesn’t need to be told who you are– he remembers where he met you this evening all too well.

“The one and only.” He replies, his voice low, smooth, and arrogant.

He knows exactly what he wants– and he knows exactly what you want, too. He doesn’t have to say a word– his breathless voice tells you everything.

“Room 134, don’t keep me waiting, Doctor.”

Is all you say before he hears the dial tone ring through, you’ve hung up on him. You’re expecting him, and he won't keep you waiting for long.

As you put the receiver back on the hook, a smile crosses your face. You know exactly what you want, and you know exactly how to get it.

There’s a firm knock at your doors no more than a minute later, and with a smirk you lay yourself out on the sheets as you await him.

“Come in.”

Your sweet voice travels through the luxurious lumber of the only thing keeping you two apart. 

You hear the sound of the door handle turning, and then the door opens to reveal the same man you’d spoken to earlier that evening.

He enters the room and closes the door behind him, before approaching you with confident strides.

“I see you took me up on my offer.” He says with a cheeky grin. He looks at your body on the bed and puts his hands in his pockets. 

You sigh and beckon him over with those irresistibly seductive eyes of yours, he can’t help the pull his body feels as he gravitates towards you.

“Better make it worth it then, Doctor.”

Leaning up and resting your head on your fist, your wide eyes play an expression in innocence for him.

Spencer moves forward and kisses you deeply, his lips pressed against yours as his hands run through your hair. It's a passionate kiss, filled with desire and excitement, and it leaves you feeling breathless.

His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his breath against your neck as he whispers in your ear. 

"It’ll be worth it, I assure you." He says, his voice low and quite sure of himself.

His words send a shiver down your spine and a heat up your cheeks. Biting your lip, you crane your head to the side, an invitation.

He leans forward and kisses you deeply again, his tongue pressing against yours as he explores your mouth thoroughly. He pulls his hands down your back and begins to untie your dress, revealing the soft skin beneath the fabric.

He's not taking his time, that's for sure. He knows what he wants- and now he wants to see more of you.

Arching your back in his hold, you feel the way he impatiently peels the fabric off of your aching body. His fingers thumb the dress off of your form, pulling it down your legs until you’re left in nothing but your matching undergarments. He throws the dress down next to your coat.

He looks down at your body and smiles, before slowly reaching down to lift you off the bed and into his arms. He takes a few strides across the room to the fancy cushioned chair that sits by the window, before gently lowering you down into it and coming to stand over you.

His intense gaze makes your heart race as he leans over you, reaching out with his hand to gently caress your thigh. 

Your thighs involuntarily spread as his touch sends a rush of arousal through you. With a pleading look, you feel your heart pounding in your chest as he lowers himself down to his knees in front of you.

You can't help but hold your breath as you watch him do so. It's a very flattering angle for you, and you certainly won't complain about him seeing you from this perspective. His curly brown locks peek out from between your plush thighs as he admires his own view. 

Slightly slouching against the cushions, beautiful thighs parted just for him, your face looking as beautiful as ever. You were like a work of art to him, and not that he needed aid with his desire for you, but the way you looked down at him made his cock harden in his trousers even more. 

Spencer leans forward and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close as he pressed gentle kisses up your thighs. Your hands move to grip at the arms of the chair to stop yourself from collapsing, and you throw your head back in a soft sigh at the feeling. Despite not doing much, his touch felt burning hot. 

You can feel your throat tighten and your heart race. You want more, you need more– and you know he's the only one who can give you what you're looking for.

His large hands coax your body closer to him, and your legs part even farther around his form, and you move one leg to perch on his shoulder. You can see the way his eyes darken as his breath hitched in his throat. He looks up to you for a moment before he’s pulling your lingerie to the side. 

“God, look at you..” 

You can’t tell if he’s teasing you, or simply in awe of how wet you are, but neither really matters the second he presses a gentle kiss to your clit. A small trail of your slick connects his lips to your cunt and he’s quick to lick it all up. 

It’s almost as if you can pinpoint the exact moment he gets a good taste of you. His eyes dilate impossibly farther and his nostrils flare as he can’t seem to get enough air to his lungs as quickly as he needed. 

His eyes flash up to yours for an intimate moment, and you can feel his heavy breathing ghosting over your dripping folds. As your gazes intertwine, you give him a shaky nod. 

He reciprocates the nod before he allows his eyes to flutter shut and his tongue to part your folds. Your body jolts in the seat at the sensation, and you have to bite your lip to silence yourself. The walls on the train were thin, as you’d assume, and you didn’t need this to be cut short because of a noise complaint. 

Spencer’s tongue breaches your hole and thrusts inside of it, moaning into your pussy at the way your walls almost immediately clench around the muscle. His nose pushes against your throbbing clit and your hips ground down against it, slickening the skin and forcing him to breathe in your irresistible scent. 

You’re already gushing your arousal on his tongue, your silky folds are contracting around his mouth, and you can hear how he swallows each time he gets a good helping of your fluids. 

The soft fabric of your panties are getting soaked as well, much to his disdain. Without as much as pulling away a millimeter away from your cunt, he moves his hands from around your waist to your underwear. 

Taking the fabric in his hands, he’s quick to rip it apart with little resistance. A small satisfied noise leaves his mouth and vibrates against you, making you whimper. As soon as the torn fabric falls limp against the chair, he buries himself all the more deeper between your legs. 

Your legs clench around his head, now that his hands aren't holding you down, and he grasps firmly onto the fat of your thighs. His rough fingers dig into the plush flesh as he continues to eat you out like his life depended on it. 

Spencer’s tongue drags against your walls, stroking over every inch of your insides like he belonged there. As far as you were concerned, he did. 

The stranger knew just how to work you open and make you fall apart with just his tongue alone. His lips closed in around your clit and lightly sucked on the small bundle of nerves, in which your eyes stuttered in their sockets at the feeling. 

He looked up at you, a cocky smirk playing in his eyes as he continued to lap at your sopping cunt. He wanted nothing more than to be entirely surrounded by you, wanting every wet rush of arousal to cover every taste bud on his tongue. 

One of your hands leaves the arm of the chair and runs through his hair before gripping at the tresses and pulling him closer. You could feel his teeth pressing into your folds with how impossibly close he is to you, buried deep between your thighs and slurping at your juices like he’d never tasted anything better. 

His grip on your thighs loosens as he draws back from your cunt, much to your dissatisfaction. When you whimper in protest, he huffs in amusement, pressing one more kiss to your clit. 

“Please..” 

Your voice is no louder than a whisper as you tug on his hair in an attempt to get him back to where he was wedged between your legs, but he just smiles. 

“What if I want to take my time with you, madam?” 

It was your turn to smile as you looked over to the bedside table where you had last left the card. 

“I’ve got your number now, you can’t possibly think this is the last time you’ll see me?” 

Spencer smiles at the implication this won’t just be a one time thing, and breaks your gaze to look down at your dripping cunt. He’s not sure if the liquid pooling against the fabric of the chair is his spit, your slick, or a mix of both. 

There’s a fascination in his eyes for a moment before he dives back down, but this time, slower. He flattens his tongue out and drags it languidly up your pussy. From your soaked hole to your puffy clit, the heavy tug of the wet muscle against you has you squirming. 

You can feel every bump in his tongue as he tortures you with it, knowing you can’t do anything about it. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that yes, even though you were physically higher than he was, he had the upper hand on you. 

His aura dared you to try and defy him, inviting you to even attempt taking control from him. But despite this dominating aura, there was nothing threatening about this man, in fact, it was quite the opposite. As he grasped your thighs and traced your sticky folds, you couldn’t help but feel like you were meant for nothing more than for him to take care of you. 

 “It’s a shame you’ve been hidden from me for so long, it seems rather unfair I had to wait this long to taste you..” 

He mumbles against your cunt, and god do you think you could finish a thousand times over from just his voice alone. 

You begin to move your hips and grind your pussy against his face, and he stops his movements to dig his nails into your skin. A warning. 

“Relax, pretty girl. You don’t have to do anything while I’m here, you know I’ll take care of you.” 

Despite not even meeting this man more than an hour ago, you agree with him. Had you sat across from any other stranger, he would have to work all of his lifetime to please you as much as Spencer had been in the past ten minutes. 

You nod and relax back into his hold, letting your body go pliant in his grip as he twists his tongue over your clit. Resisting the urge to grind up or pull him by his hair has your legs twitching, you were so close, and you needed to get there now. But again, he was the only one who could give you what you needed, so you let him handle you. 

His lips, now shiny with your arousal, wrapped around the sensitive bundle and began to suck like he was made for that purpose only. Your hips twitch and your thighs clench erratically against his head, moans and whimpers pouring from between your lips. 

Disregarding your previous worries about noise complaints, you let the noises rip through your throat. There’s not much else you could’ve done, not when the stunning man between your legs was pulling your clit between his teeth and coaxing your orgasm out of your trembling body, begging for you to burst all over his face. 

And honest to god you try to warn him as the rising heat in your stomach gets too much, but when you open your mouth, no words come out. The only thing that makes its way out are pathetic whines and broken moans, but it seems he knows exactly what you’re trying to say.

He unlatches himself from your clit and begins to hurriedly swirl his tongue against your folds. The tip of his nose rubbing deliciously against your clit and the slight scruff on his chin chafing against your thighs, it was all too much. Your brows knit into a look of pure bliss as your eyes meet his, his own irises practically pleading for you to give him what he needs from you. 

Your walls clench around his tongue as you’re gushing around the muscle. The pleasure washes through your body and your fluids rush into his mouth, making him groan against your pussy as he swallows down everything as quickly as he can, not wanting to waste a single drop of your release. 

Eyes roll into the back of your sockets and you twist your fist in his hair harder, your other hand digging into the hard material of the chair as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 

Spencer only unlatches himself from you when he’s positive he’s wrung you dry. When the spurts of arousal subside to slow drips of slick, he carefully pulls away from you. 

The lower half of his face is positively drenched, skin damp and shiny as an all too confident smile tugs at his lips. As you writhe on the seat and try to compose yourself, he looks down at his watch and sighs. 

It was almost curfew, and despite the disappointment flowing through his veins, he remembered what you said about seeing him again. He stands up and quickly takes your ripped panties in his hands.

He’s quick to shove them in the pockets of his suit jacket, but you’re even quicker to catch him. You swallow and look up at him through hooded eyes with an amused expression on your face.

“Those were expensive, you know.” Spencer huffs out a laugh before leaning over you on the chair. A hand moves to hold your chin in his fingers, and he connects your lips in a messy parting kiss, panting into each other's mouths and breathing the same air. 

Your jaw unhinges slightly as he slithers the same tongue that had been fucking you just a few minutes prior against your own tongue. You moan quietly into his mouth before he’s pulling away slightly, yet still close enough to you that your lips are just barely touching. 

“You can return the favor at any time, doll.”

With one last kiss, he reluctantly stands up and wipes his mouth, trying to make it look like he didn’t just devour your pussy and make you soak his face. 

Your legs are still spread on the chair as he bids farewell with a polite nod. He closes the door behind him and retreats back to his own room, where he would no doubt be fucking his fist, pretending it felt half as good as you would. 

[ioniansunsets]

If you have time can you do headcanons for HEARTSTEEL Ezreal x K/DA fem!Reader? It's totally okay if you don't want to!!(≡^∇^≡)

✖ Heartsteel!Ezreal x K/DA!Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Sorry for taking a while with this! I hope I did him justice. He is just a lovable idiot with your best interests in heart to me 💚💚💚

----

xxxx Day to Day xxxx

- He was a brat, an absolute whiny brat when your schedules don't line up. Ezreal is Complaining, begging and whining, incessantly pestering your managers to adjust things so he can spend time with you. His thoughts are plagued by you 24/7 and he wants nothing more than to just Be with you. Reluctantly he would still go to interviews and fan meets, but whenever he's on break he's sending you voice messages, sending you photos, drooping you messages on how he misses you.

- Ezreal would totally skip out on practices to run off and be by your side. Being in the same production studio totally helped. Blinking past higher ups and security to knock furiously on your studio door. Ahri sighing as she opens the door for him. Ezreal happily walking in like it is as much his studio as it is yours. " Here to visit my love, don't mind me girls!" Happy giggles erupting from his lips as he runs up to your side. He would totally just sit cross legged nearby, cheering as you pull off a dance move. Or jokingly learning the same set and joining in when you dance.

- If you were to visit him during his practice instead, he is ecstatic, suddenly a one take wonder whenever you are near. Of course he'd have to be perfect, you were watching him of course. Ezreal would also throw cute heart hands, heart fingers, blow kisses, throw his top off at you. All the embarrassingly cute things that just make him, him. The other boys in the band tease him of course, little loverboy becomes such a chummy mess around you it is almost surprising.

- This lovable loser would totally thirst trap and give you targeted fanservice. When you were apart Ezreal is the kind of guy to lift his shirt up and take a photo of him and his abs in the mirror to send to you. " Looked super cute today! Sucks that you aren't here to check it out yourself. Teehee." If you save any of these photos, don't tell him, it'll actually make him embarrassed instead. The way he immediately freaked out and told you to change it when he saw you set his photoshoot photo as your phone wallpaper, he cannot handle such love coming from someone he loves back just so much. One sided adoration was normal for him, seeing you love him back? His heart is thumping out of his chest.

- The kind of guy to serenade you in a high school boy kind of way, sneaking into the garden area below your window, throwing rocks at your window until you wake up and check it out only to see him with a ukulele loudly singing love songs he knows you like. The only reason it wasn't embarrassing was just because he was actually good at it, he was a singer so his voice was just so beautiful you can't help but forgive him. Of course he'd wait patiently to be let into your house after, laughing as you tell him he didn't have to sneak around to get in. He did it for the romantic fun of it, not because he has to.

- Ezreal is also rarely insecure, but when he is, he goes to you. You being a professional in the industry too, and also being his lover meant you were specifically the only one he trusts to hear his fears and appropriately comfort him. Worried about his voice not being good enough, his dancing being too erratic, his looks not being just perfect. Only when you tell him, with all your own experiences as a professional, that he was doing fine, amazing even. Or that everyone in the industry feels this way, it was just part of the job stress, would he finally calm down. " Thank you...I really needed that..." Soft whispers as he hugs you, your hands in his hair calming him down as he tries to breathe.

- And if it came to you? Panic setting in before a big interview or performance? He is your personal hype man. If anyone can make you feel better about yourself it was Ezreal. He loves you oh so much and has just as many reasons to back it up. Telling you how your cute smile always leaves his mind a fuzzy mess, how he loves your voice so much he sleeps to your solo records, how he watches compilations of your performances because he really loves to see you dance, there was nothing about you he doesn't love, and he is sure your fans feel the same way. He is just as big of a fan of you as you are of him, its hard not to love him for that.

xxxx Touring xxxx

- Ezreal hates that he has to hide his love for you on stage. Sure the adoring cries of cute girls and guys from the crowd was nice but where is yours! Why were you so busy that you haven't seen his selfie! Holding back any negative feelings he would still perform as well as he could on stage. He understands that you had your own performances so you couldn't watch all of his but he is still sad and pouty over it!

- If you were hidden in the audience, the moment he spots you its a 180. Suddenly even more energetic than usual, he can't help but to hop and blink closer to the audience, trying to give you a high five before blinking back on stage. Ezreal having to explain to Alune later why he was breaking rules. But all he would do is sheepishly laugh and apologize, knowing full well he would do it again. He was just so drawn to you afterall.

- Ez is the kind of loving boyfriend that would totally buy you over the top gifts and get them delivered. Almost every location you perform at, a bouquet is personally sent to your dressing room. Always your favorite flowers, sometimes a cheesy love poem written in the card, but always sent to you before your performance. The kind of " Hey, I can't be there but I will be watching you from here &lt;3" reminder that leaves your chest feeling warm.

- If Ezreal is in the audience? He doesn't hide it, rumors be damned, he's a fan he loves you! He hides it enough at his own stage lives, he is going all out with your fans. Lightsticks, fansigns, tees, ita-bags, he has it all. He loves you and wants Everyone to know he's a fan. VIP tickets, man is always right in front jumping and cheering, screaming fan chants, embarrassing you but also just making it so fun! He is in queue with his VIP pass for a Hi-touch too, embarrassing considering how he is already always snuggling you in your private time, yet here he was in public sneaking even more skinship from you.

- It's no longer any doubt to fans that Ezreal loves K/DA but whether you two were a thing? That was a mystery. He loves the fans shipping the two of you together though, he might not be allowed to openly declare his claim over you but, this was cute enough to satisfy him. He has a side fan account for you that is surprisingly popular with fans because for some reason, this account seems to always grab sneakily good photos of you in public.

- When you do hop by backstage to wait for him, he goes fucking crazy. The kind to happily yell your name as he runs and jumps into your arms. He loves you so much and so brightly, peppering your face in kisses, bragging about his perfect performance, excitedly telling you how some fans threw him gifts on stage. A warm smile as he places his sunglasses on your face, " Not bragging to make you jealous, I hope you know you're my one and only." A small kiss on your nose as he pulls away, flashing you a charming smile.

[girlbloggersfolly]

DELTA DAWN - part 2// Bee in your bonnet

Pairing: camp counselour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader

Rating: E!!!!! 18+ MDNI

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) Things go south one morning after a particularly catty argument between Joel and our lifeguard in Joel's boat shed/self proclaimed 'man cave'. - Pictures in the moodboard are simply to get the imagination racing and for me to spill my pinterest all over your screens, the reader is at no point described!

Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), enemies to loves - i mean it, mean!joel, lowkey mean!reader but we love them both, slight vouyerism, cigarette smoking, talk of pornographic magazines, complicated relationship (billy and reader dw), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex (door open but thats it, degrading, pet names (kiddo, sweetie, doll - the good stuff ykyk), fingering idk, slow burn, fem!masturbation dirty talk, no descriptors of reader except she has hair and is a similar height to joel cause im tired of the lack of tall girl representation in fics, sorry... if that ruins it for you just imagine i never said that), NO USE OF Y/N.

a/n: eekkkk ok you can probably tell from his horrific piece of writing that ive never done proper smut and i went a little overboard but i'm sure you'll like it anyway. i've probably got one or two more parts of their story left in me, depending on how happy i want the ending to be. Id love to get requests if anyone has any bright ideas! I love the 3 people who are reading this, it really makes me blush and you don't even know it.... also lmk if you want to be on the taglist for any future writings xxxx

-----

You were up in the chair early. Waking especially to sit and watch as the sun rose higher over the lake and above the pines, hoping to get there before Joel, just so you had time to ground yourself. You toyed with the cigarette between your fingers, a habit of yours that had really been getting you through the last agonising couple of days of avoiding Joel Miller, but there was no putting it off this morning. 

Kayaking. Something you’d never really specialised in and were not convinced you'd know how to deal with if things were to go south.However, as always, you kept your doubts to yourself. Joel was taking the kids today, he was good with them and obviously knew what he was doing on the water. You hoped that meant no accidents.

“No smoking in the chair, cupcake.” Here we go again.

“Good morning to you too, cupcake.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around to see the one thing on your frazzled mind, not bothering to put out the cigarette either, 

“Kids’ll be here soon, Lou’s bringin’em” He said coldly in reply, standing beside your chair, his face level with your hips as he looked out to the water.

 Even being raised above him like this you still felt vulnerable, what was it about him? He turned to look up at you with his big arms crossed against his torso, “so, be a doll and put that thing out f’me will’ya?” The chair rocked slightly as he patted it, condescending as ever. 

You rolled your eyes yet again and dropped the cigarette down beside his feet, raising your eyebrows. It was bratty and yeah probably a little crueller than required, but it felt damn good. “Happy?” you were pushing it, really pushing it, you could see it in Joel's hard expression. his impressive profile was only defined by the hot mid-morning sun as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes. He put on his ray-bans and turned away. =

The kids hung onto every word he said as he stood in front of you explaining to them how to kayak, in a way they never did with Billy or Abel, or even Sharon. You tried to listen, tried to look out at the lake, tried to do something that wasn't blatantly staring at his tight ass, the muscles in his back under his t-shirt. It was torture, adjusting in your chair, shifting around like a bitch in heat. 

“Eyes on the water, lifeguard,” He taunted you from the deck, you’d really needed to remember your sunglasses next time. 

If you thought the other day was bad, this was worse, sitting there melting into your lifeguard chair watching Joel being the hottest man alive and not caring how it might make you feel. The kids were playing capture the flag in the woods by the light of the setting sun, giving you a minute to cool off against a tree, the cigarettes lighting themselves at this point. 

Your skin was lit up by the orange light that dotted through the trees as it sunk below the horizon. It was the first moment of mercy you’d gotten from this god-awful day of Joel Miller and his stupid tanned skin, the little sweat droplets on the back of his neck, his salt and pepper scruff, the thought of how it would feel against your inner-

“Found you,” You smelt Billy before you saw him, his freckled arms embracing you from behind, knocking you out of your dreamy state. 

“You know this thing? It's called a shower, real cool I hear?” You chuckled, trying to laugh a little to disguise it as a joke, the last thing it was.

“Haha, very funny,” Billy smirked, planting wet kisses across your neck from behind, the moustache he’d been trying to grow tickling your jaw. 

“Quit it,” You raised your hands, your shoulders tensing like an alarmed cat as he grinds messily against you, “There's kids around you little shit.”

Billy murmured a chuckle against your skin, his tongue tracing against it, a sensation that had the hairs on your arms standing up. “I’ll make it quick,” Now there was something you could count on. 

“I said quit,” you turned abruptly to look at him, brushing yourself off, realising the harsh tone of voice you’d used. He looked pained, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes darting around your face quizzically. 

“You know what,” Billy folded his arms, looking you up and down bitterly, “Im tired of you being a fuckin’ prude the whole time,” His voice was raised, whiny, trying to sound like his father. 

You scoffed, putting your head in your hands and shaking your head in disbelief, this kid was insane. “Its not my duty to fuck you whenever you so wish, christ, you really are an entitled son of a gun,” 

Billy stamped out his cigarette onto the ground, “Nasty bitch,” he shook his head, spitting on the floor, charming. “Don’t know why I even bother.” He marched off, back to his cabin probably, off to write another song about how much he hates women you’d have the pleasure of hearing at his next gig.

The day was dragging, it seemed unceasing, like this spiralling, horny, angry mess that was your body. The forest was quiet again without Billy’s cursing, often you’d hear a distant shout from a kid who’d been caught or a group of them running around, but it was hard to differentiate from a bird call, or the wind in the trees.

“Trouble in paradise.” Great. 

“Look, I am not in the mood, so be a sweetie and kindly fuck the fuck off.” 

That earnt an impressed chuckle from behind you, another pair of broad shoulders leaning beside you on the tree. “S’ my darn woods, ‘do whatever the hell i like, thank you missy,”

“Joel I'm serious, whatever witty little jabs you're cooking up, save them for another day,” You looked to him, it was hard to look away whenever you did. 

“Wasn’t,” He shrugged, there was that gruff, southern nonchalance yet again, christ how it got to you, the complete opposite of Billy’s incessant bitching. You almost wished he cared enough to go off on you the way Billy tried to. 

“Well…” you paused, eyes darting over his face, the strong profile, low set brows, those pouty lips you’d gotten pretty damn used to this week. “Dont,” you concluded.

“You really do have a bee in your bonnet don't you, kiddo,” there it was, just as you’d predicted, calm and collected and making you want to blow his brains out.

You shrugged. “Its Billy,” You shook your head, well that was only one of the bees in your very buzzy bonnet, Joels fucking face was the other. “You heard?” 

He nodded, “I heard enough,” you both stood in the ambience of the evening, kids whooping, birds sounding from the trees. “Billy’s a dick you know that, ‘don’t know a single fucker from here to Timbuktu that dont know that,”  

You couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing further against the tree, your shoulders untensing for the first time in weeks, forgetting who the enemy was. “You know fuckers in Timbuktu?” 

“I bet I do,” he nodded, crossing his arms against his broad chest, the camp staff t-shirt barely accommodating his largeness. 

Joel sighed, looking over at you, “got one of them cancer sticks you're always suckin’ on?” you had a whole pack of them in your back pocket. 

He thanked you and lit one with the janky lighter you'd stolen from Abel, smoke muddying your view of him. There was a lull. “I don't know why you lead that bastard on,” he said through the smoke. 

“Im hardly leading him on,” You scoffed, lighting a cigarette for yourself. “He was the one who wanted to keep this to strictly fuck-buddies,” Lucky for you, imagine being Billies girlfriend, jeepers.

“Sounds like you can’t even do that?” he smirked, and there he was again. 

“You know, as I find myself repeating these days, s’really none of your business,” you laughed, turning to him, sighing through the familiar heat in your abdomen, the butterflies that felt more like horse flies in your stomach back and buzzing harder than ever. 

“You're makin’ it my business, havin’ your lover's spat in my earshot.” he retaliated calmly.

you opened your mouth to bite back with something that attempted to match his condescension, but that was an impossible task. “You know what,” you settled on, again grasping for something to finish that sentence. “Fuck,” again you were gotten the better of.

“I’m stuck with him for the next three weeks, so, gotta keep sweet for that long I guess, maybe put out a couple times.” 

He nodded, stamping out his cigarette next to billies, “S’a damn shame,” The eye contact felt like glass in your eyes, felt a big hand twisting your throat till it turned blue, it was those eyes of his in that permanent, laboured squint which you assumed came with age, they killed you. A damn shame. The words played on repeat like a song on Sharon's broken radio, the static soiling his voice in your mind. A damn shame. He was right, it was a damn shame. 

“Would you make sure to deal with those kayaks tomorrow morning’, lifeguard? Just gotta pile em’ up in the shed,” He said over his shoulder as he turned to saunter away. 

Before you could get your bearings, you were alone again, admittedly less grateful for it too. 

Morning, kayaks, shed. Sounded like a relatively agreeable task that wasn't asking too much right? Wrong. You were lucky your body had gotten into the rhythm of waking up at sunrise cause this was a goliath task. Hauling 15 kayaks from one side of the lake to the other wasn't something you’d factored into your morning of rest and relaxation. You’d planned to take a secret dip, maybe grab a coffee, take a shower if you had time. But no, you were out sweating under the morning sun, huffing like a workhorse.

When the last kayak was hauled into the dirty little shed you reclined on the desk, all dusty and grotty but it didn’t even matter. Heck, you weren't even perturbed by the smug house spider that was perched close to your palm, not even giving a second thought to the porn magazine discarded beside your head. All you could think about was how this wasn't what you’d bargained for when you agreed to go on this little jaunt up to the northwest, oh yeah, and how much you hated Joel Miller. 

After a couple of minutes of huffing and puffing, grumbling to yourself about how you were meant to be in LA by now, living a rich and famous life as some kind of starlet, a model, an actress maybe. The shed was a mess, every surface littered with junk. There was fishing equipment, books, more beer cans than you could count, the whole thing screamed Joel. 

Soon, without even meaning to, your nimble fingers were straightening objects, tossing the cans into the bin, dusting, flicking through boxes, you even took the spider outside. 

“Hey,” You heard a jumpy voice from behind you, clearly receiving the same fright you’d got from the sound of his voice. “What are you-” It was Joel, an accusatory expression all over his knitted brow. He saw the small desk bin behind your back, the cans in it, he saw the neat shelves and dusted desk with all his papers stacked orderly. 

“Hey hey hey, I have a system..” Joel bolted over to where you stood, snatching the bin out of your hands, his knuckles grazing yours, you were in deep if such a small gesture made your heart drop so far down. “There's a system,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on his uncluttered desk, looking… pained, addled by the whole thing. 

You scoffed, enjoying seeing Joel off guard, it was always you getting snuck up on, getting caught in a vulnerable situation. “Is the system complete chaos, cause wow Joel, im impressed,” you put your hands on your hips, your little red shorts riding dangerously high. 

“No one asked you to go messing in my affairs,” he tutted, rubbing his brow, god he was a drama queen. 

“Your affairs?” you laughed maniacally, “By your affairs do you mean a few dozen beer bottles, some dusty kayaks and your crusty spank bank mag?” 

He scoffed, looking down at the magazine down on the desk. He'd been got, he’d give you that. “Just clear off, don’t need your bitchin,” He turned his back on you, tampering with your neat new order on his desk, “too damn early,”

You were furious, not even a thank you? If not for drastically improving his workspace, at least for stacking the kayaks, a lot of work if you did say so yourself. “Are you kidding,” you whined, walking up to stand behind him, trying to get his attention. 

“I’ve been doing hard fucking labour, sleepy head, what were you doing? Jerking it into a porn mag I'm guessing?” he chuckled at this, turning over his shoulder to look at your exasperated expression. “Hard labour?” he murmured, audibly amused by your claim.

“Oh you poor thing,” he mocked, turning round fully to look at you, “Doll, you ain’t done a day of hard labour in your pretty little life.” He smirked wildly.

“You don’t know a thing about my life Miller,” you said, sounding like some cheesy cowboy movie, his accent rubbing off on her a little. This caused a full belly laugh to erupt from him, it caught you off guard.

“Your life ain't nothin’ but sunshine and rainbows, sugar, maybe a day’a ‘hard labour’ would do you some good.” He chuckled, walking across the room and correcting the ‘mess’ you made of his ‘system’. “Fuck you,” you bellowed, crossing your arms, your eyes wide and full of fury as you watched him in all his casual, condescending glory. 

“You are maybe the most infuriating motherfuck on this damn earth,” you said through your teeth, so mad, so hot, so done with it all. He just chuckled again, raising his eyebrows, you were starting to just want his attention, wanting him to reciprocate your anger, not caring how you got there. 

“And by the way, I don't care how you see it, I've been up all morning slaving away at something I am certainly not paid for and I don't even get a thank you?” You blurted out, the words falling out of you, you convinced yourself you felt sweat actually drip from your chin. 

He turned to you, annoyingly amused, but there was something else, an underlying rage that really disrupted the usual sedate presence he provided. “Thank you?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. 

You paused, never had you ever felt so damn angry at a man. “Listen up-” you began with a huff before being interrupted by Joel stalking over to you with a hostile smirk on his face. Towering over you even though you were a similar height, you backed up against his desk very slightly, trying to keep your chin raised cockily. 

“Are you always this fuckin’ cranky?” he shook his head in amused disbelief and let out an exasperated scoff at the stuttering look on your face. 

You could feel your heart beating like that of a hamster, hammering against your chest. He was so close you could smell him, old spice deodorant, campfires, the slightest tang of sweat and lake water, also the musty dust smell of the shack, you thought you might faint like some Victorian chick. 

He was close, too close for comfort, his muscular frame, the threat of a non-sedate Joel wasn't something that settled you. You gazed into those eyes of his, narrow and all-seeing under a thick, heavy brow. “How’re we gonna cheer you up, huh kiddo?” He raised his eyebrows in mock concern, your mouth was left agape, eyes so wide they might pop. Joel was closer now, looking down at her very slightly, his breath fanned over her face. Holy fuck.

“Can’t have you all bitchy after doin’ me one little task, now can we?” He said after a beat, placing his hand on your jaw, wiping away a caked bit of dirt, probably from all that ‘hard labour,’ his big thumb moved from your jaw to swipe across your lips softly, gently feeling the plush, pillowy skin, freshly chapstick-ed from the Carmex in your pocket. “Can we, sugar?” he repeated the rhetorical question down at you. She shook her head lightly, the obedience hitting her like a 10 foot wave. 

“That's better, that's it, that's better,” He said softly, like he was talking to a jumpy animal. “Not so hard being a nice girl is it now? Not so bad?” he cocked his head and raised her brow, she shook her head absentmindedly once more, completely entranced by whatever was happening to her right here against Joel's desk. 

He nodded, his hand darting between your teeth, his other fingers holding your jaw still underneath. The other hand rested precariously on your thigh, leaning closer so you were sat up on the desk, right beside the dirty mag. 

He let his hand trace drowsy circled under the hem of your shorts, his eyes following, “Think you're cute?” he smirked, his eyes told a different story, taunting, stormy. “walkin' round in those little damn shorts, all prissy, like you own the place?” He said darkly, almost to yourself, holding your eyes with his, his thumb swiping between your teeth, pressing the pad against your tongue. “Suck,” You did it straight away, hollowing your cheeks out and letting whatever this was happen.

You convinced yourself it was some kind of gross fever dream, being out in the heat for the last few days had given you hallucinations, but it felt real, the taste was real on your tongue, his taste. you lapped it up like medicine. 

He clenched his jaw and gazed at your lips wrapping around his thick thumb, fuck. His fingers grazed the seam of your bikini bottoms under your shorts, he could already feel how warm you were down there, how much this was getting to you. He held eye contact with you as he pulled your shorts off, motioning for you to lift your ass, you were feeling compliant, a rare feeling. 

Your bikini bottoms followed, leaving you bare on the desk, the lifeguard top riding up your midriff revealing your glistening (very 70s (interpret that however you like)) cunt to the daylight that streamed in through the open door - a risk Joel seemed to be taking, or something he probably hadn't even considered. 

He rolled his neck, his hands on his hips, he seemed to be considering his options, weighing up the consequences. You pushed your knees together, hoping for a little modesty, the answer was no as Joel's big hands reached down and parted your legs once again. 

“Ah, ah, baby,” he smirked wildly, truly a man starved. He reached down and dragged his finger between your folds, holding the wet digit to the light. It was all achingly slow, he sucked his finger clean, his eyes on yours as he tasted you, letting out a gruff, guttural groan. 

“This gonna keep you sweet?” he said with an icy smirk, her skin was like a furnace; a sweaty, wet, flustered, confused puddle on this desk, dripping everywhere. “Keep you outta my way for a couple days maybe, kiddo?” He chuckled, looking at her domineeringly. “How’s that sound?” 

You nodded eagerly, your expression desperate, whiny, you needed this bad. “When you touch yourself, whadd’ya think 'bout?” he taunted, leaning a hand either side of your hips on the desk, “You,” you gave in, it was just too easy when he talked to you like that. 

“Show me,” He smirked, his words almost a growl, you raised your eyebrows. “Your a pretty little idiot aren'cha?” Now he was just being mean. “Touch yourself the way you do when you're in your cabin, up in your bunk, squirmin’ around,” 

It was so easy, to let him order you around, to succumb to it. The heat, all the bantering, it had melted you into putty in his hands, it’d get to anyone. So there you were, on Joel Miller's desk, bare on the bottom half, your hand drawing tight circles around your aching clit. 

“Fuck,” you bit down on your lip, it was all overwhelming, the feeling of an orgasm coiling around your spine, the blistering, green-house-type heat that had you all rosy and sweaty, the fact that Joel was stood right there, crossing his arms, watching you like a hawk. You knew he’d be a voyeur. 

You watched as his wire snapped and he’d had enough of just watching, adjusting the tent in his shorts. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes looking bigger than usual from this angle, wilder almost feral. he pulled at your hips violently, hoisting you around so your back was flat against the desk, your head leant up against the wall so you could watch exactly what he was going to do to you. 

His mouth was hot against you, licking a stripe up your seam. You could’ve sworn you heard him moan at the taste, felt the vibrations against your core. “This cunt is wasted on Keenan,” He chuckled, not even pulling away from you to lay his jab at Billy, he never could resist the chance. 

You moaned loudly, your hair flying into his hair, feeling the chocolatey, salt and pepper ends in your fingers and you pulled hard, close now. “Don’t fucking stop,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against his face, nose deep in your pussy. 

“Fuck, does he kiss it this good, doll?” He murmured, the vibrations of his baritone drawl against your aching clit were enough to make you toss your head back in sheer ecstasy, that coil winding uncomfortably tight, threatening to snap. 

“He doesn't.” you chuckled through moans, Billy had never ever eaten you out, no matter how many killer blowies you’d served to him on a silver platter. This seemed to appal Joel, who only licked deeper, slower against you, it was agonisingly good, toe curling. He scoffed down there, his thick index finger working at your hole now, dipping in easily despite how tight you were.

 “Poor thing, thas’ why you're so wound up,” He mewled from below, his voice patronising, taunting, but it touched you, “haven’t had someone take care of this pretty cunt in too long hmm? shit, I’d be mean too.” He said with a wet smirk, pulling away to slot another finger in, but you wouldn't give. “Won’t be able to take my cock if you can take two fingers down here,” He chuckled, taunting you further.

“Please don't stop Joel,” you squealed, pulling his hair painfully tight between your fingers, his condescending words only making you hotter, you weren’t usually into that, but shit, Joel could be wearing a fucking tutu and you’d be into it, come to think of it… 

He was grinning smugly as he pushed his fingers into you at a gruelling pace, the desk shook underneath you, your head thrown back against the wall. “Billy hasn't done me any damn favours down here, you're tight as a virgin, baby,” you could see the smirk on his stupid face even with your eyes clenched shut. 

Your release hit harder than it ever had before, your leg shook hard, a string of ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s, laced with a fair pinch of ‘Joel’s and ‘baby’s, blurted out of your lips, you felt your abdomen clench and moaned incoherently, but Joel wasn't quitting, still kitten licking at your inflamed core, fingers curling up and into you, finding a new depth with every push. 

“Joel stop, it-its,” you panted, not even recognising your own voice now, your vision blurred. Overstimulated didn't even sum it up, that shit hurt. 

He didn't care, lost in your taste, lost in the feeling of you clenching around his digits. “Cocky little lifeguard, you're the bane of my life, you know that sweetie?” He said against your wetness, not giving a flying fuck how uncomfortable this was getting, knowing soon you’d ride it into another earth-eating orgasm. 

“Really shouldn't be doin’ this with’ya, Can’t be,” He said over your moans as the discomfort bled into insatiable pleasure, the desk hard against your clammy ass, your release leaking down your thigh and pooling below you. “Holy fuck-” you squealed, your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing, the other interwined in his thick hair, that must’ve hurt. 

“How old even are you?” he asked with a mischievous chuckle, pulling his face away and slowing his hand movements, no no no no no. Your brain was fuzzy, all you could process was that Joel had stopped and that felt like death. “20,” She said quickly, needing him to continue. He knew what he was doing, taking a moment to process, watching the way you were squirming, so desperate for him yet again. 

“You're too young for me, kiddo,” He said as he dove back into your crotch, a very contradictory statement when reflected against his actions so far this morning, i know. “I am not,” you bit back through a whimper, pouting, your eyes fluttering shut once again.

 “How old’re you anyways,” you panted, your words all broken and high pitched, too fucked-out to feel humiliated. “76?” You chuckled, feeling your second orgasm of the morning chasing after you. 

He bit down ever so slightly on your clit, causing you to wince and buck your hips, it didn't cause any damage or hurt, just hard enough to shut your bratty ass up. “49, missy,” he replied coldly from below you. “Watch it,” 

“You wanna take my 76 year old cock next? think you can take it?” He smirked, pulling away to focus on his hand movements, in and out, hitting that spongy part of you, deeper than you could ever get. You nodded, words almost escaping you for the first time in your smart-ass life. He chuckled deeply at this, a hearty sound you were starting to crave like a meth-head. “She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” He breathed in your ear, planting a small, firm kiss on your neck, his fingers gaining a bruising pace, loud wails escaping your quivering lips.

“Fuck j-joel,” you stammered, your hot breath fanning against his neck, “want, need your cock,” you were getting needy, washed up by the incoming wave of your orgasm, ready to hit just as hard as before, if that was physically possible. “Don't get greedy now,” He smirked down at you, eyes wild. Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, salty and stinging, your body shaking, giving way to another tortuous release. 

He pulled his hand away and sucked eagerly at his drenched fingers, watching as you came apart on the desk, moaning and whining for him. 

He sat you up, grabbing a coke from his outdoor refrigerator and leaning against it as he opened it, muscles flexing he clicked it open, tossing the bottle opener to the side and handing it to you. You grasped it with clammy palms, your vision slowly coming back, your body still fucked-out and trembling, cock-dumb for a cock you hadn't even had. 

“Welp,” He put his hands on his hips, like some suburban dad done with a barbecue, “that was real nice, weren't it?” He patted you on the shoulder, ignoring the bewildered expression on your face. 

“Duty calls, kids’ll be down here in an hour or so,” he slapped his thighs and raised his eyebrows, it was as if he’d just given you a friendly handshake, not eaten you out and made you cum twice. 

“Aren’t you going to..” you stopped yourself, you’d been awaiting the next round, (even if you weren't sure you could take another round) the one he’d talked about with that same smug look on his face as he finger-fucked you. 

He grinned down at her, ruffling your hair, “another time hey kiddo?” he said kindly, but it was perhaps the furthest thing from kind you’d ever seen. You glared up at him in disbelief, mouth agape, cheeks rosy, skin glassy from tears of pleasure, you didn't even know that was a thing. He patted you on the shoulder, smiling earnestly, that glint of mischief turned to one of absolute cruelty in his eyes. 

“Atta’ girl.” 

And he was gone. Joel was out the door as quickly as he’d entered, leaving you panting, bottomless and flushed and sweaty, your shorts half way across the room, the coke bottle dampening your fingers.

 He’d really done a number on you, gotten you all needy and riled up, then done something to you that no one had ever bothered with. Then he’d just left, like it wasn't the best you’d ever felt, like you hadn't been imagining how many babies you were going to give him, what colour flowers’d be in your bouquet at the wedding.

 It was embarrassing; being humiliated yet a-fucking-gain by a man well over twice your age, legs trembling on the soaked desk, the model on the front of his porno magazine beside you grinning up at you smugly, fucking bitch. 

[baraturts]

Youre back! Youre back! YOURE BACK BACK BACK!!! Im so glad you’re ok and you’re back to us! I waited sooo long, it was extremely exhausted to know that maybe youll never came back 😭

many of my favourite tcest idols didn’t came back 😭 but you’re back!

thank you! im so happy and your arts give me so many motivation 💪🏻🔥

for me it was looong five years, really, so i can wait another couple weeks or months for new pages.

and again thank you! love ya so-so much 🖤 good luck 🍀

p.s. sorry for grammar, english not my native 😅

Aw, thank you anon, feels good to be missed <3

And speaking of long wait times between pages... I'm heading out for a medical procedure tomorrow. I'm not quite sure how long it will take me to recover as I haven't had something quite like this done before. But just wanted to mention it in case someone tries contacting me and I don't answer. Keep fingers and toes crossed that everything goes smoothly and complication free xxxx

[accihoe]

Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Au: 80s rockstar

Summary: Y/N is the reason for the drummer's smile.

Warnings: no hate to Sharon Carter.

A/n: same drill; PLEASE DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Ily, Jly.

xxxx

Y/N's eyes met those of the drummer, baby blues not as nitid as always. He played the drums with passion, giving his all, but it was clear to the fan that something was going on in his life.

When the show came to an end and the band members were thanking and greeting the crowd, the drummer was much less talkative. His eyes met Y/N's for the second time that evening, and he gave her a tired smile, she gave a warm one in return.

The musician did not think much of her after the show, his mind keeping him preoccupied with the scandals involving his fiancée. He read another article in the newspaper beside his bed, refusing to believe what he saw and read.

As he was falling asleep, his mind flashed with the face in the crowd, her warm smile comforting him into sleep. The following day, he went to a cafe near the hotel. He stood in line, contemplating additives or not in his hot chocolate. When he sat at a table, awaiting his hot chocolate, his veins ran ice cold.

He saw familiar blonde hair, that same large nose, same shade of red lips, smiling at another guy. Her hand was on the upper arm of the other guy. Bucky watched as the man tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His appetite for the hot drink vanished as he watched the interaction.

He felt angered when his vision got blocked by a figure. The waitress put his hot chocolate down and a few bowls of self-catering toppings. He thanked her quietly and pulled his scarf up higher. As the waitress moved away, it was like his eyes opened for the first time. There she was. The girl from the show.

As if on cue her eyes met his. Without thinking he gathered his stuff and moved to her "Hope you don't mind me intruding.". She shook her head with a smile, gasping slightly when she saw who it was. "I uh.. you look beautiful, by the way. And uh. I'm James." He held out his hand. "I know." She giggled, taking his hand. "That you're beautiful or my name? I'm hoping both." "The latter, but thank you, James, for the compliment." She smiled at him.

"What brings you to this cafe? Shouldn't you be doing.. you know... band stuff?" Y/N tilted her head with an adorable smile. "Yeah, but we've been here before. I don't feel like touring to the same spot again. I figured it'd keep my mind preoccupied to come here and dang was I right." He grinned.

"James uh, I seriously don't mean to kill the mood.. But Sharon is here. With that guy from the scandal article." Y/N cringed at her announcement. "I know." He sighed. "I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else. Here." She put her interior design book on the table. Intrigued, the drummer took the book, tracing his thumb over her name in the front, before gently flipping through.

"Most trending decor at the moment. And, if you want my opinion, I think it's timeless." Y/N said, tracing her hand over a photograph of a living room. "I agree." James smiled, resisting the urge to lace their fingers together. "You gonna order anything? It's on me." James asked. "Oh no, no, I can't accept that. But thank you." Y/N smiled as she shook her head. James admired the curls that bounced around her face.

"Please, I insist." He said. "Alright then, if you insist. I'll have one hot chocolate, please. No toppings." She grinned. As James turned to get up and place the order, a woman stood before him. A particular large nosed, red lipped blonde, with crossed arms , "James.".

xxxx

Part two?

[centralperkchenford]

Chenford prompt with Tim’s mum xxxx

Chenford prompt with Tim’s mum xxxx

Obviously this is just a speculation and something that once I started writing I couldn’t stop. I don’t know a lot about his mom but this was just something fluffy and a little angsty I thought of.

And yes I know the title is about Taylor Swift and her mom or a girl and her mom but for the sake of the story it’s. Tim x his mom. Tim x Lucy.

But I know I had the best day with you today

Every year on his mom’s birthday, when she was with him Tim would buy her a cake. When he was younger that meant dumping out his piggy bank for money and then begging Genny to give him some. He never asked his dad for money, that thought never even crossed his mind. As he got older, he would save up money for his mom’s birthday. Just that one specific day.

March 7th

And his mom would always hug him and kiss him. And for a few minutes his life would feel normal. There was no yelling or screaming or hitting. He usually waited for his father to leave so they could celebrate in peace. His mom always let him blow out the candles, telling him to make a wish. He would always wish for his mom, him and Genny to get of his father’s clutches. To start anew, somewhere else where it could always be peaceful.

And Tim lived for his mom’s birthday because it was his one day of peace.

Until the next day when it all was back to normal and he was the disappointing son of an alcoholic father and a scared mother too afraid to leave her husband.

When he was seventeen, his father didn’t leave the house on his mother’s birthday and ended up throwing the cake against the wall. Tim slammed the front door behind him and drove off. That was one of the last birthdays he spent with his mom.

When he was eighteen, his mom didn’t come home from girls night and his father took it out on him.

After that his mother’s birthday was no longer peaceful. He spent one more birthday with her when he was nineteen and for the first time in two years, it was nice and calming and his father was absent. He blew out the candles and wished for peace. His mother left the next day, leaving Tim and Genny alone.

When Tim joined the military it was mainly to get away from his father, he knew Genny was tough and he had even left some of his buddies in charge of looking out for her. It didn’t mean he didn’t worry about her.

The next March 7th came and went he celebrated with a small cake and candles. His buddies eating the cake too, they never asked who it was for. He appreciated that.

After that he still celebrated even though he hadn’t talked or seen his mom in more than a decade. He became a cop, he got married and he still celebrated. Isabel never really understood, she asked and he told her but would ask why and he didn’t really have an answer. He wasn’t with Rachel long enough to even get to his mom’s birthday and Ashley was well.. Ashley.

When he and Lucy finally got their shit together and started dating he was nervous about telling her about his little tradition. It’s not that he thought she wouldn’t understand, she was different he just didn’t know how to explain it.

When Tim woke on the first March 7th with Lucy, it was a dreary day. Lucy was curled up into his side and he smiles and wonders how he got so lucky. He leans over to kiss her on her shoulder. She stirs and blinks up at him immediately smiling.

“Hi.” She whispers her voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning baby.” He says and kisses her again this time on the lips.

She shifts so she’s facing him, her chest against his and her legs wrapped around his. She always wanted to be as close as she possibly could to him and Tim didn’t mind one bit.

“What do you have planned for today?” She asks him running her fingers through his hair. “We both have the day off.”

“Mmm.” He hums and he kisses her again this time slowly. “What’s the date today?” Lucy reaches over for her phone.

“March 7th.” She says. “We could—”

Tim sits up in bed and Lucy yelps in surprise as she almost falls out of the bed.

“March 7th?” He asks and Lucy looks at him weirdly before tapping her phone again.

“Yes. Why are you being so weird.” She asks and she moves closer to him again but doesn’t touch him.

Tim gulps as he realizes he never told her about his tradition on his mom’s birthday.

Moment of truth

Lucy is staring at him curiously. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. He grabs Lucy’s hand and pulls it to him. For reassurance that she’s here with him.

“Today is my mom’s birthday.” He says and Lucy’s eyes widen in surprise but she doesn’t say anything knowing he needs to get this out.

“Everyday on her birthday I would buy her a cake and we would celebrate. She let me blow out the candles. My dad was never home so it was peaceful. My one day of peace.” He blinks back tears as he continues. Lucy just squeezes his hand.

“One year my dad was home and he was drunk and threw the cake against the wall. The next year my mom didn’t come home after going out with her friends and my dad beat me up.”

“Oh babe.” Whispers Lucy. She doesn’t say anything more, she just lets him continue.

“When I was nineteen.. it was the last birthday I ever spent with my mom. She left for good the next day. But I still celebrate her birthday because for all her faults and flaws. For not leaving my dad sooner and not doing anything when he ganged up on me.. I still loved her. I still love her. I don’t know if she’s alive or not but—” he stops speaking when he sees Lucy’s face. Full of understanding and love. Absolutely no judgement.

Lucy pulls him in and cradles his head he knows he’s crying but he doesn’t care. They sit like that for quite some time. And then Lucy slides out of bed and kisses him on the forehead.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.” She says and she hurries out of the room. He hears noise in the kitchen and curious he gets out of bed to see what she’s up to.

She has mixing bowls and cake mix spread across the counters. She’s already cracking the eggs and mixing everything in. She’s still in his shirt she wore to bed and her hair is crazy but she’s beautiful.

He knows what she is doing and if it’s possible he falls even more in love with her.

She looks up when she hears him come in and grins. “I told you to stay in bed.” She scolds. He comes over to her and pulls her close.

“You were being too loud.” He says and he bops his nose with hers. “Can I help?”

She shakes her head and shimmies away from him. “No. I got it. You go take a shower.”

He wants to say more but he just kisses her again, hoping to convey how much this means to him.

He goes in the bathroom and takes a shower and when he gets out he hears Lucy humming to herself. He grins and shakes his head. His mom would have loved Lucy. She was much like his mom before his dad beat her down.

He never wanted Lucy to lose her sunshine.

He gets dressed and hurries out to the kitchen. It’s a mess and so is Lucy but he just slides on one of the kitchen stools and grins at her. She’s making the frosting now, and she has bits of flour on her face. He hops of the stool and comes into the kitchen.

“Here.” She hands him the spatula with a bit of frosting on it. “Try it.”

He licks it and it’s delicious. It’s chocolate but it’s not too sweet. Just the perfect amount.

“It’s delicious Luce.” He says and she grins at him. She dips her finger in the bowl and then swipes it across his nose.

“Now you are a mess like me.” She says laughing at his expression and the squealing when he picks her up and spins her around. He backs her against the counter and he’s not going to start anything but he just wants to tell her how much this means to him and how thankful he is for her. He wants to get it out before the wave of emotions building inside of him tumble out.

“Lucy.” He begins. “Do you even know how much this means to me?” He gestures to the mess in the kitchen and the oven that’s turned on. “I never had anyone understand or even really care about why I did this. Isabel always questioned why. And Ashley just judged me.” He takes a breath. “You never even questioned it. You just did this. You are so selfless and wonderful. And you mean so much to me I could go on for hours.”

Lucy pulls herself up and places on her hand over her heart. “I don’t need to know why Tim. I just know this means a lot to you. And what’s important to you is important to me.”

Tim surges forward kisses her gently. “You are a lot like her. She had sunshine in her before my father diminished it. I don’t ever want to diminish your light.” He says.

Lucy shakes her head. “You will never diminish it Tim. If anything you make me shine brighter.”

And if Lucy didn’t have a cake in the oven that Tim is actually excited about eating he would take her in the kitchen right now.

Instead he just kisses her until she has to pull away. “It’s almost ready.” She tells him her eyes sparkling. “And then you can have your way with me.”

Tim has had a lot of March 7th’s. Good and bad. Normal and boring. But this one? It definitely made it into the top five.

(Especially after Lucy smears more frosting on him and then… it cracks the top two)

[jilychallenge2023]

day 3

From the lovely @abihastastybeans another Jily music rec! Everything I Do, I Do It For You (Bryan Adams) Perhaps you could write a James Hood Marauders in the Forest & Maid Lily niece to the King AU to go with it (keeping our fingers crossed;) thank you so much for all your fun challenges this year and some amazing Jily micros! xxxx

[prongsie-rambles]

OOC: guys I’m going out again today!! But it’s to London with my grandparents (fingers crossed they don’t try set me up with my cousin again) but it means poor old James will have to stay in the hospital wing asleep recovering for today

have a great day everyone I love you guys please remember to eat and drink at sensible points and I’ll be back in the evening xxxx

[cherryleehernandez]

Hello!! I saw that your requests were open. I wanted to ask for a Hunter x F! Reader? I just wanna read something kinda heart-wrenching lol. I don't mind the plot too much but if you could please write a really angsty and then fluffy one-shot that would be very very cool! Thank you! <3

Hunter had been kinda distant lately, it was…weird. He’s usually been very social in the past but something’s wrong.

Y/n tried talking to him about it but he would just brush it off. “I’m ok, just tired is all.” “There’s no need to worry about me!” “I’m fine.” He gave so many excuses but none of them were believable.

So Y/n took matters into her own hands, she went digging for clues. She needed to know what was wrong, and she was gonna find out.

On her search for answers she found Hunters journal, which she’d promised to never read, but this was important. Who knows what he’s planning? He could get hurt, or worse. She looked around to make sure no one was looking and then started to read.

“March 8th xxxx,

"I’m leaving, I can’t stay here. I don’t understand why everyone is so nice to me, I’ve done terrible things to all of them! It’ll only hurt them again if I stay, and I think I’ve done enough damage. After dinner tomorrow I’ll leave when everyone’s gone to bed. I can’t pretend like everything is ok anymore.”

Oh.

So that’s it.

He’s just gonna leave? Wait… it’s the 9th! Shit-

She scrambled to call grab her phone to call him, hoping he’ll pick up the phone. She dialed the number with her fingers crossed.

“Pick up hunter…please.”

After a while of ringing they thought it was gonna go to voicemail, but he eventually picked up.

“Hello?” His grumbled voice answered.

"Where are you?!" y/n practically screeched. She then heard Hunter sigh on the other end, probably trying to get himself to talk. He has a funny habit of not talking when he's upset.

"Oh, so you saw my note huh?" He said trying to cover up how shaken he is with a chuckle.

"Yeah! I saw your note. Now, where are you?" y/n demanded from him.

"I- I'm by the lake, I just..." He stammered.

"You have nothing to make excuses for, I'll be there soon." She said calmly hanging up the phone. 'that ridiculous boy' she thought to herself as she got ready to leave.

It didn’t take long to get there, but she was nervous the whole time. Sure she was all calm earlier but now she's afraid to say the wrong thing? What if she says something that makes him wanna leave even more?

y/n was almost there when she heard sniffling. 'It's Hunter' she thought as she sprinted to where she heard him. She was almost there when she tripped and fell on a rock. As y/n was getting up she heard a half laugh half cry above her, she looked up to see Hunter holding out a hand.

she clasped their hands together as he pulled her up into him. y/n's arms flew around him, holding him close. Afraid that if she loosened her grip for even a moment he would slip through her fingers.

"How could you leave!" she cried, hot tears pooling in her eyes.

"I... can't forget all the terrible things I did, even if it was because of Belos I still did them! and I hurt a lot of people. I don't deserve to be with all of you, especially you y/n." Hunter admitted as the two of you cried in each other's arms

"I wish you would've talked to someone about how you were feeling. but you told me now, I'm proud of you Hunter. I want you to know that I think you deserve to stay with us, I want you to. id be heartbroken if you left." y/n said with enough conviction to shake the whole iles

"Really?" Hunter questioned as he leaned back to look at her, looking for anything that told him she wasn't being sincere.

"Really." she said with a smile.

They looked at each other for a while before Hunter leaned in to give her a soft kiss on the cheek, only then to bury his face in Y/n's chest out of embarrassment. It'll be a long time before Hunter truly forgives himself, but until then he has people who love him by his side.

[sarahsmi13s]

"crying late at night, fingers crossed it doesn’t ruin my sinuses and make me feel icky in the morning" - why were you crying Sweetling? xxx Also, hope your sinuses were okay afterwards xxx

hi nonny! thank you for checking in on me 💜💜

it was towards the end of my period and just a lot of thoughts and emotions were happening, but i'm alright now! it was just a bit of an overwhelming night

and yes, my sinuses behaved and were not angry with me. i think because it's pretty warm down here where i live, they didn't like freeze up as i slept, if that makes sense.

love you nonny darling xxxx

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 57: The Things We Deserve

CW: Mentions of a Suicide Attempt

TUESDAY - WINTER 9

Lewis’ curses from the Festival of Ice had not gone entirely unanswered. Though a day late, the temperature had plummeted overnight, and the townsfolk of Stardew Valley woke to a frigid, ice-encrusted wonderland. 

Poor news for Achilles, who despised anything under 20 degrees. That being said, he was anxious to get out of the house, which he feared would seduce him back into the dregs of depression from which he was still struggling to break free. Unwilling to break anymore bones in his body jogging on the slippery sidewalks, he opted for a second day at the spa. 

*****

It was slow going—he wasn’t the world’s greatest swimmer, and never would be, but that was… fine. Just something to keep his body moving, his mind occupied. One stroke, two strokes, red strokes, blue strokes… 

“Achilles?” 

He emerged from the waters to see Alex standing at the opposite end of the pool, 25 meters away, backlit by the pale blue fluorescent lights glowing softly through the steam. 

“Hey! There you are, I was looking for you.” 

A prickle danced down Achilles’ spine—but perhaps it was merely a draft blowing through cracks in the walls, cooling his damp, warmed skin. He raked his fingers through his hair, buying himself a second before paddling back towards the shallow end where Alex was waiting. “Hey yourself.” 

“I stopped by the farm. You weren’t, um, answering your phone. But I ran into Maru, she told me you might be here.” 

“Oh yeah? She tell you that before or after you broke into my house again?” 

“I didn’t break into your—I promise I’m not a stalker, man, I only did that because you were MIA for a week.” 

“I’m joking, Al.” Achilles had reached the edge. He rested his arms along the wall, a few inches away from a pair of well-worn blue sneakers, and looked up at the man standing above. “I just left my phone in the locker. What’s up?” 

“I, uh. Well. I got the job.” With an uncharacteristically shy smile, Alex extended his arms to the sides and performed a little squeaky spin across the wet tiles (“That’s so dangerous, what kind of lifeguard are you?”). “Thought you should be the first to know. Or, I guess, third, technically, but my grandparents don’t really count…” 

“A thing like that! Congratulations, I do believe this calls for a celebration.” In his excitement, Achilles half-lifted himself out of the water before thinking better of it and dropping back down with a small splash that splattered the fleece of Alex’s grey joggers. “Ah, sorry. I’d give you a hug if I wasn’t all wet.”

“A hug? An actual hug? From the Achilles Robinson? Wow!” Alex chuckled and squatted down to better meet Achilles’ eye level and return the offered the fist bump. “Nah, it’s ok.” 

“Well, I’m not surprised. I knew you’d get it.” 

“Did you, though? Did you—” 

“Yes. Yes I did.” 

They exchanged grins, and with another laugh, Alex shifted to a more comfortable position, taking a seat on the tiles and leaning back on his arms as Achilles continued to wade in the water. 

“I’m excited. Even without the overtime, I’ll be making more money, so my grandparents are also excited… but I’m excited to really swim again. With all the extra time and an actual schedule now, I’ll be able to really get back into the routine of it all. Really try to take it seriously, ya know?”  

“Yeah! Artemics XXXX, here we come, baby—” 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m old for a swimmer…” 

“You’ll be 26 going on 27 when it rolls around, you won’t be that old. If Peter Lee can win gold at the age of 35, why can’t you?” 

“When did you become an expert in Artemic gold medalists?”   

“When you decided you were going to make a run at it again. Or should I say a swim at it?” 

Alex smiled at the rather lame joke and scooted criss cross applesauce closer to the edge. 

The lights were buzzing. Achilles hadn’t minded it while swimming, but in the silence that sat between them now, the noise felt obtrusive, suppressing the unspoken words and unsaid wants that otherwise may have found their way to a home well received. 

“I wouldn’t have done it, you know. Without you.”

Achilles sent a light splash over the wall. “What’d we say about kissing my ass? You would’ve handled it fine. It was an interview, it’s just talking, you’d have figured it out.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Alex wrapped his finger around his shoelace. Gave it a little tug and watched it unwind before repeating the process again. “I don’t think I would’ve even gone for it without you. Any of it. The promotion, swimming… I mean, I always knew there was more out there. I just… never realized I could actually go for it until you came along. Never realized I could try again. Just needed a kick in the pants, I guess.” 

Ah… 

That was enough sentimentality for today. Already, the words were grating his conscience, the remains of his own sense of self. Achilles dove back in the water, reemerging in the middle of the pool. 

“Come. Join me. Alex’s Return to ProSports Training Session #1—” 

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” 

“So?” 

“I don’t want to walk back home in wet underwear, it’s cold.” 

“Okay, then don’t? Go commando, bitch.” 

Alex laughed and stood to kick off his shoes and socks. Achilles was denied a full striptease though (for which he was slightly disappointed, though he would never admit it to himself), for Alex only rolled up his sweatpants to his knees before returning to the edge of the pool to soak his feet. 

“How have you been feeling lately, though?” 

“Oh.” Me again, huh? Always me… “Fine. It… comes and goes.”

“Yeah? You want to talk about it? Are we coming or going right now?” 

Achilles had to bite the inside of his cheek. “Coming. Kind of. That’s why I came out here, actually, was feeling a little… well, I thought perhaps a little change in scenery would be… nice. Something warm, some peace and quiet…” 

“Oh, do you want me to leave? 

“It’s a public place, Al, I can’t tell you to leave.” 

“But do you want me to?” 

“No, stay. Please.” 

 There was another beat of silence that only the lights filled. And when Alex’s curious gaze became too much, Achilles dove back into the water and continued his swim. 

*****

He should’ve felt happy for Alex. 

And he did—really, he did. Happy, excited, vindicated, proud—he was all of it. It’s what Alex deserved. 

But why couldn’t he be only it?  

Why did he also feel like shit? 

Well, it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise, this gut wrenching twist that always accompanied someone else’s good news… This was how it’d always been for him, even though, as he reminded himself as he had countless times over the past season, he knew his friends’ success had no bearing on his own.

The paths you tread are parallel, not shared. One person’s accomplishments shouldn’t get in the way of your own growth. 

Wise words from his father, once upon a time. But logic never did manage to trump the clinging stench of jealousy. 

Aye, just get over yourself, my dude… 

Easier said than done of course, but nevertheless done easier when he finished his final lap. Twenty or so minutes after Alex’s arrival, Achilles slowly made his way back to the shallow end of the pool, now ready to return to the real world, away from the voices bristling inside his head. 

And seeing Alex at the edge of the pool, his nose slightly scrunched as he held his e-reader an inch from his face, his lips parting slightly as he muttered the words, further dulled the edge of Achilles’ bitterness. 

You deserve everything you want, he thought, as he treaded slowly forward. 

“Bit of a role reversal, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Huh?” Startled, Alex looked up from the tablet. 

“Me swimming. You reading.” 

“Oh. Haha, yeah… more like trying to read, I guess. My brain is woozy. I’m just trying to finish before the new season drops. 700 pages! Books shouldn’t be allowed to be over 300, man…” Alex set the tablet aside. “Slow progress, but hey, it’s progress. Look at you, though! The rate you’re going, you’ll be competing against me soon enough. Who’d have thought you were scared of swimming just earlier this year?” 

“Oh, I was never scared of swimming specifically…” 

Was it something in his tone that gave it away?

He watched as Alex tilted his head every so slightly to the right. It wasn’t confusion, nor necessarily concern, that lined his face… no, it was something more akin to a… reserved sort of anticipation, Achilles decided. Atop a thinly veiled curiosity. Like a judge waiting for a confession to only confirm what he perhaps already knew. 

Would it be too much to say what he wanted to? Too heavy? The words were on the tip of his tongue for the first time ever, demanding to be spoken aloud, and tasted of longing and desperation. 

Would it ruin the mood?

Would it ruin what they had? 

Achilles steadied himself against the wall, choosing to sit perpendicular to Alex’s line of sight. No, it was never swimming that he feared. He remembered the frigid waters, the dull buzz of a motorboat, the flash of sirens…

He took a shallow breath, and said, as nonchalantly as he could, “They say I tried to kill myself that night.” 

Alex, to his credit—it was not unlikely he had already put it together on Spirit’s Eve—didn’t flinch. “Were you?” 

“Eh. Depends on who you ask.” 

“Mmm, and if I ask you?” 

“I don’t know. No, really, I don’t know—I mean, you saw on Spirit’s Eve. I put a life jacket on. I feel like that piece of evidence does point to one version of the story. My therapist always insisted it was an ‘unconscious cry for help.’” Achilles tone was casual, his shrug and dry chuckle unforced.

He thought back to what the Shadow King had said to him. It had offered, if not the total truth, at least clarity. “Personally… I don’t think I cared much one way or the other.

“Apparition had come out. It was, as you know, received somewhere between panned to lukewarm by the literary community.” Here, Achilles gave a mocking little bow alongside a twitching, self-aware little smirk. “Finally had an Eddie Bloomsbury review in Gilliterate—what I had always wanted—and it was 2 stars. I felt like shit. 

“I just thought it was so funny, what you said earlier about learning not to give up because of me, because like, come on. I’m a huge fucking hypocrite, man. Swore off my whole career—one that I really loved—over one badly reviewed book. 

“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to write anymore, I felt like I didn’t deserve to want to write anymore. Leave it to the professionals, Achilles. The people who actually had the talent and the skill. People who weren’t coasting on their family name. Of course, not being able to write just pissed me off even more. I was angry. I was aimless. And then I was depressed. 

“I didn’t know what to do anymore. I thought I had my whole life, my whole career, figured out, and then almost overnight learned I wasn’t actually cut out for what it was I wanted, and, well, you’ve see me when I have nothing to do. It drove me crazy. 

“So my friends took me out one night. Took me to a club, tried to distract me, cheer me up. They were a good group of people. I got drunk, managed to slip away. You can’t blame them. It was dark out, it wasn’t hard. Scurried away to the pier…

“I don’t know why I went for the water. Maybe because it was quiet. Maybe because I was just drunk and tired and wanted to nap and the boat was the closest thing to a bed. Maybe because I thought that being out there, away from the lights and the music, you know, just me and the ocean and the stars in the sky, I would… find something. A sign? From the universe? Clarity? I don’t know. You know how it is. That feeling, when you’re so desperate for answers. The hope that maybe if you just… connect with nature, connect with the universe, some… thing will lead you to answers… 

“But next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital with zero answers and my mum and dad crying by my bed. That hurt like a bitch, having to see that, let me tell you… They sent me to the nicest fucking clinic money could buy for a month. It was great. I was high on meds half the time and I didn’t have to cook! Ever!” 

A moment of only somewhat manufactured levity. Achilles waved his arms gleefully in the air until Alex managed a snort. 

“Well, maybe not great. But not… baaad. I got out, and I did feel somewhat better—like logically, I knew I was in a better place. Or ought to be. I had a therapist, still. Eva was great. But there was this… constant bottomless pit in my stomach, and I felt that if I just stopped for long enough, I’d… I don’t know. Fold into myself? Or collapse into myself, maybe, and I’d just get lost and fall and drown in it all. I mean, clearly I needed something to do. I’d take anything. 

“Well. You know what happened next. Went to BRLO. Lived my best life until I could finally admit to myself that it wasn’t really my best life. And then I came here. Gotta say, it hasn’t really been my best life either, but for a bit I think it was still a pretty good one… the end of Spring admittedly blowed, but Summer got better, and Fall ever more so. Until the mines. 

“Maybe it was inevitable. Everything crashing back down. After all, I had never quite solved the problem that had sent me allegedly jumping off a boat in the middle of the ocean in the first place. I still have no idea what I should be wanting to do in life. But for a bit, the Valley seemed to trick me into forgetting that it mattered. 

“But down there, in the mines… and Spirit’s Eve, too… the things I saw…” Achilles voice grew flatter as he remembered the terror of the mines, the screaming spirits pounding against his skull, and the Shadow King. He didn’t want to dwell on it. Not now, not even with Alex. Perhaps he never would. “The things they said… They brought it all back…

“And even now, it’s just… everyone else is doing so… well. Abigail’s living her best life, Elliott’s got his book, Leah’s art is taking off, you’re…” He tossed Alex a small, sad smile. “You’re doing great. And I just feel like I’m falling behind—which I know is illogical, and I’m really happy for all of you, I swear that I am, Alex, I’m so, so proud of you, and you deserve it. But…” 

He clasped his palms together, entwined his fingers as he leaned against the wall of the pool. 

“Everyone is doing what they want to do. What they’re meant to do. And they’re all happy, and I’m not. I’m not doing anything. And I know it’s petty and it’s not right, and I know it’s selfish and stupid, it’s like I’m six fucking years old, but I can’t help it.” 

Achilles, his face now glum as he stared into the waters below, gave his feet a halfhearted little kick. 

Alex’s tone, however, sounded oddly cheery given the conversation at hand. “You considered getting back into advertising, didn’t you? You said you had some offers. You said maybe you would try again, that you thought it could be better this time. That’s definitely something!” 

“Ahhh…” Achilles glanced over to see Alex mirroring his kicks in the water. If he was honest, Alex’s support for his Hyacinthian corporate career was just a bit disheartening, even if it was clear the words were being wielded only to support. “I turned them down. All of them. Yesterday.” 

Oh. 

The sharp jerk of his head was almost imperceptible, the raise of his eyebrows only but the tiniest inch—but even so, these minuscule motions that signaled Alex’s apparent enthusiasm at Achilles’ reveal were not missed. And each was an arrow through Achilles’ racing heart. 

“Yes, despite the alarming pile of evidence to the contrary,” Achilles drawled, continuing off of Alex’s wide-eyed blinks, “I do still think the Valley’s been… good to me. I don’t think it’s time to go just yet… But I’m just… scared, Al.”

Achilles shook his head in an attempt to stave off any unwelcome emotion. “I don’t have any regrets, I think, turning it all down. At least, not yet. But I’m scared that I’m wrong. I was good at it, Alex, shouldn’t I want to go back? I just… I don’t understand why I’m so caught up with wanting what I know I shouldn’t want, why I insist on living off of daydreams I can’t even bring myself to fully commit to. I can’t even finish writing a goddamn outline.” 

He forced himself to laugh. “It’s just… you saying what you did earlier? About how I pushed you, or whatever you said? I just thought it was so funny. Because I’m such a hypocrite. Right? Like seriously, how pathetic I am, how easily I give up on everything when it doesn’t go my way. I know I’ve got my farm and my arrangement or whatever with Shane—that sounded strange, disregard— and Penny mentioned possibly doing some substitute teaching, but I just… none of that is a life, right? None of that’s living for me, it’s just… something to do. 

“I miss having a… mission of sorts. Goals. Direction. A larger purpose. I want to be… I want to be important. And I know that’s stupid, and I know the whole fame and glory is ridiculous and stupid, but I mean, I don’t know how to stop wanting that. I mean, that’s the whole reason I wanted to go down the mines even though I knew it was a stupid fucking decision—” 

“No you didn’t.” 

“What?” 

Alex gave a little matter of fact shrug. He was still kicking his feet in the water like a kid, sending droplets careening back into his own face. “You just said you wanted to go down the mines, but you didn’t. I remember you telling me that morning, you didn’t want to go. And you weren’t lying, I could tell. It wasn’t glory at all, you only did it because you had to.” 

“But the Shadow King—” Achilles stopped himself short. 

What had the Shadow King said? That Achilles had wanted to go down—wasn’t that right? 

A tiny piece of glory peaked its head and you had to jump on it. 

Yes. And he’d allowed himself to believe it.

But Alex was right. That wasn’t quite true, was it? In fact, if he were honest with himself, he had never truly wanted to go down at all. It’s not like he had been that busy during the Fall, Yoba knew there was nothing preventing him from joining Abigail if he had truly wanted to. If he had wanted to, actually wanted to, he would have dived right into training alongside her—but no, he had always found excuses. Up until the last minute when it became clear he no longer had a choice. 

He should’ve wanted to go down—he remembered the conversation he’d had with Alex at Abigail’s birthday. It was, mortal danger aside, on paper, right up his alley. And clearly the Shadow King had chosen to latch onto the thought. But the truth of it all? The price for the promised glory in this instance was never one he had wanted to pay. 

So what did that mean? 

“Maybe…” Achilles spoke slowly as the thoughts came to him. “Maybe I need to stop waiting around for something to want. Maybe that’s the lesson here. It doesn’t matter what I fucking want. It never did. Maybe that’s the way to finally start a new life—” 

But Alex quickly interrupted. “I mean… I don’t know. I don’t think so, Ash. I don’t know… sometimes you just have to do things you don’t want to do. For you, that was the mines. But that’s… that’s like, different. You didn’t have a choice then. But you do now, in… what did you say? Starting your new life? You have a choice now.”

Hmm. Achilles gave his head a little shake. “I guess I just wish I had a thing again, you know? You know. Like the rest of you. Specialization of labor, that’s what led our ancestors to like, ditch hunting and gathering or something, right…” 

“You’re asking the wrong person, man.” 

“I wanted to be a scholar of sorts, but I suppose I was destined for agrarian society all along…” 

“Achilles, you’ve lost me.” 

“You never took a world history class?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you, Ash, I’m stupid—although, yeah, I did, actually now that I think about it… but really, you expect me to remember anything from it?” 

They both chortled. It was nice, Achilles thought, as he watched and counted the seconds it took for the ripples from Alex’s flutter kicks to reach his chest. How casual this was. He didn’t need an intervention, or overly concerned gazes and hinted, indirect questions that only served to close him off even further. He just wanted an ear and a friend. 

“You miss writing, don’t you? You miss that being your ‘thing?’” 

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but I mean, I just wanted to be fucking famous, didn’t I? So is it really the writing I miss, or the book signings?” 

“I think you miss it.”

“I shouldn’t.” Achilles sighed. “Every time I picked up a pen this past year, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the last time I tried. And what happened. The humiliation. How it ended. The fact that it did end… That’s a sign in and of itself, isn’t it? Where my priorities lay? All my talk, but I can’t commit. I just want to let go. Let go of the… wanting of it all.”

Alex withdrew his feet from the pool and stood, making his way to the little cart of towels nearby. “For what it’s worth, Ash… I don’t think you’re a hypocrite. And by your own standards, I don’t think you should think that either… I mean, you know you better than I know you of course, I don’t mean to speak for you…”

“No, by all means, Alex.” 

“I just noticed you keep saying “should,” Ash—  ‘should want,’ ‘should miss,’ ‘should do…’ and I just… I don’t know. I don’t think you’re really… listening to yourself. Or something.

“I think you just have… never felt like you really deserved to write again. I mean, you just said it yourself. You feel like you ‘shouldn’t’ want to do it because the universe sent you a sign in the form of Eddie Bloomsbury six years ago that this path supposedly wasn’t for you. 

“I think that’s why you never let yourself commit to it this past year, in the way that you always encouraged me and Elliott and Leah to go after what we wanted. Because in your eyes, the things we want are the things we should want—things we’re good at, things we like. Things that other people appreciate. That’s what you told me once, right?

“I think your… problem… was just that you were… I don’t know, so focused on finding what you thought you were supposed to want, instead of what you actually wanted. I don’t think it’s ever been a question regarding your commitment, Ash. The past six years… I think it’s always been a question regarding what it is you think you deserve.”

Achilles clambered out of the pool—was it his imagination, or was Alex following the line of his bare body as he padded across the tiled floors? 

“How did you make peace with your past, Alex? The shit your dad said to you, how did you learn to move on?”  

Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought up his dad. Although, then again, Alex himself had never shied much from the topic, had never spoken of it with shame or embarrassment. Even now, Achilles studied the faint smile of Alex’s lips, the gentle curve of his neck as he gazed pensively up at the ceiling, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. 

“Time.” Alex gave what looked to be almost an apologetic shrug. “I wish I had a better answer, but honestly, that’s most of it. I mean, I still struggle with it sometimes. Feeling worthless. And stupid. But, you know, I haven’t seen him in like 13 years, and I’ve been lucky enough to surround myself with better people since then. 

“To be honest, I think I’ve actually made a lot of progress just this past year, even. With… you around. Going back to what I was saying earlier, how you’ve… helped me this year. Pushed me. 

“I don’t know, I forget when it was, but there was just one day I was feeling kinda blah. Maybe we were going for a run or swimming or something, but you were just… saying things, and I don’t know. It was kind of eye-opening. Just thought to myself, well if someone I admired so much, whose opinion I really respected, found it worth their time to help me and believe in me and care about me, then why couldn’t I do the same for myself?”

“Do you believe in me?” The words slipped out by accident. A pathetic ask. One bound in longing and a need for affirmation, and in that moment, Achilles wondered if he had truly always yearned for fame and glory or whether it’d just been this right here all along. 

Alex smiled in response, a soft twinkle in his eyes as he tied the laces on his left sneaker, then his right.  “We all do, Ash. Hey, think about Elliott—he’s in your line of work, you always said he was a good writer. He clearly respects you. Admires you. Trusts you to read his stuff. Don’t you think that means something?” 

But Achilles didn’t want to think about Elliott right now. 

I want to hear it from you.

Perhaps there was something in his eyes—a childlike yearning for approval, an obvious desperation for confirmation, for acceptance, for acknowledgment—for Alex’s gaze softened to something more tender as Achilles neared. 

“I believe in you more than anyone, man. And not just because you’re my best friend. But if we’re real, it doesn’t matter what I believe if you don’t listen to me when I say it.” 

The words—or was it the steady way Alex was watching him?— seemed to flood his body with a warmth far surpassing that of the spa’s heated waters. For a moment, his anxieties grew silent, his dissatisfaction dissolved, and he felt at peace. 

This he wasn’t imagining. Alex unrolled a towel from the cart near him, ignored Achilles’ outstretched hands to sweep it over his shoulders himself, clutched him closer, raked his fingers through his wet hair, brushed it out of his eyes —

“Oh thank Yoba you two are still here.”

The charge between them splintered like ice. 

Maru had suddenly arrived, huffing and puffing, her red braids bouncing as she skidded into the spa breathless. “I came to warn you—there’s a storm blowing in. Folks are stocking up, I’d get to Joja asap. They say it’s coming in really fast, and it’s coming in bad.” 

*****

Aware that his ability to handle the cold was significantly worse than the rest of the town’s, an alarmed Achilles quickly changed, ready to race for supplies and beat the storm. 

Alex, on the other hand, was unperturbed as he half-tackled the front doors, tumbling out first to face the fierce winds already beginning to blow. The clouds overhead were thick and dark, thundering between shades of grey and pale gold, but the snowless grounds indicated they had not yet unleashed their fury upon the Valley. 

“Some storm,” he called, rubbing his gloved hands together. He gave an anxious Achilles, who was waiting on the other side of the glass still in the lobby, an encouraging nod, even though Achilles could clearly see the branches of the surrounding pines violently swaying back and forth. “This is nothing, we’ll be fine, come on—you didn’t see this coming, though, weather boy?” 

With a huff, Alex wrenched the door open again, allowing a sweeping wind to blow Achilles near off his feet as he stumbled out into the biting air. 

“Oh fuck me—‘this is nothing,’ my ass—”

“Ah heck, I forgot you’re from, like, desert country—” 

Alex removed his scarf and tied it tightly around a violently shivering Achilles’ still-damp hair. “Why didn’t you bring a hat?” 

“Sorry, m-mom. I’ll do b-b-better next time—” 

“You need a thicker coat, dude.” Only Achilles’ rapidly numbing limbs prevented him from shoving Alex off as the man proceeded to also remove his own puffer jacket and gloves. “No one told you the Winters are a lot colder here than they are in both Monstera and Hyancinthia, huh? Figured you would’ve researched the climate before moving… Now don’t you freeze on me, you weenie, I’ll race you to Joja.” 

*****

Alex, naturally, sped ahead, but an unlucky tumble sent Achilles slipping across the first falls of sludgy snow and careening twenty feet down the mountain. 

“You know, fuck this shit, maybe I really am better off moving back to Hyacinthia,” he grumbled, seizing Alex’s offered hand and clambering up from the icy mud.

“No, it’s too late. You already said no, I’m afraid you’re stuck here for forever, bud.” Alex swiped at the clumps of snow sticking to Achilles’ leg—rather dangerously close to my ass, Achilles thought, somewhat torn between waving him away and letting those hands continue to reach for his pants. What a shame the motion was accompanied by Alex’s high-pitched attempt at a Muppet impression. “Please don’t leave me, Ser Achilles, I couldn’t bare it for even a second.” 

Achilles twisted to both avoid Alex’s artificially wide-eyed plea and to better examine the damage. A clammy, wet streak of mud was now smeared along the back of his thigh. “Fantastic. I look like I just shit myself.” 

With a click of his tongue, Alex straightened back up rather abruptly. “Pretty picture.”

“Almost as pretty as you.” And with an exaggerated wink, Achilles hurtled down the trail back to Pelican Town. 

*****

“You sure you don’t want to stay here the next few days?” Alex yelled over the winds as they heaved bottles of water and canned vegetables into the Mullner household. 

They had had to battle their way through JojaMart. The tourists trapped at Sunspray Peak who had been unable to book a room at the saloon had made the drive down to stockpile for the upcoming days. Shelves were bare and lines were long, but through it all Alex and Achilles had bickered and bantered to pass the time.  

It wasn’t a totally unwelcome offer, hunkering down with the Mullners—the snow was falling thick now, swirling through the open front door as they returned back out to the porch, and Achilles didn’t much fancy the trek home. 

But he shook his head. Never mind the prospect of being snowed in with George—he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to resist snowbound temptation, anyway, not in his fragile headspace and Alex looking the way he did in that stupid ass old letterman of his. “I couldn’t leave poor Voltaire all alone, no, the poor cat has already suffered enough this season.”

“You sure? You can bring him back here, maybe there’s still time. Dusty won’t mind. I just don’t know if I trust you not to freeze to death.” 

“I’ve got a fireplace.”

“Sure, you’ve got wood?”

“You got me there. Okay. I’ve got a heater. I’ve got two tubs of arugula. What more can a boy need? But thanks for the offer.” 

Achilles knelt to grab the aforementioned two tubs of arugula, along with additional groceries and cat food. Already, visibility was frighteningly low, the snowflakes large and wet as they clumped quickly along the cobblestone paths. 

As he bent down, the tail of Alex’s puffer coat slipped up at the exact moment a speck of snow decided to drift its way down across the exposed strip of his back. The chill was electrifying, and he instinctively jerked up, only to slam his head into something hard—

“Ow! Achilles—”

“Fuck! What the—” 

He stepped dizzyingly backwards to see Alex bent at the waist, cradling his nose. 

“I’m sorry—shit. I’m sorry! Yoba, why’d you bend down—”

“I was trying to help you—”

“I can manage two bags of groceries, Alex—”

“Man, now you’ve done it. I think you’ve broken it.” Alex straightened to dab his nose with the back of his pointer finger and check for blood.

“It’s not broken, it’s not even bleeding—”

“You don’t know that. I could be bleeding internally, that’s even more dangerous they say—”

Achilles couldn’t help but laugh—he leaned against the door frame, doubled over as Alex continued to milk his pain. God, he felt good, but oh, he really ought to head back…

“—and it’s the best part of my face—”

“That’s a joke right? How many women have I had to witness fawn over those green bean eyes of yours—”

“—and in the middle of a snowstorm. Gonna have to walk a whole two minutes to Dr. Harvey now—” 

“Good luck getting that guy to answer his door during off-hours—”

“—why’s your head gotta be so dang hard, huh—”

“If I kiss it will it make you feel better?” 

A beat of silence, then Alex dropped his hand. Shot him a narrow-eyed, rueful look. 

“Maybe.” 

Achilles hadn’t expected an affirmative. Well, semi-affirmative. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he had expected at all. Whatever it was, he’d been prepared to laugh it off and head home, but in that moment, Elliott’s words from the day before crept into his head. 

Can you meet him halfway? 

He leaned forward, arms stiffly at his sides as they each clung to a Joja bag, and for the barest fraction of a second, brushed his lips against Alex’s nose before taking an abrupt step back. 

“That’s all you’ll get from me right now, you can send the hospital bill to my secretary. You stay warm now.” And, refusing to wait around a second longer for Alex’s reaction, Achilles tore down the ramp and sprinted home.  

*****

Oh. 

Oh? 

Alex stood frozen on the porch, watching Achilles hurtle through the already four-inch thick spread of snow. He should’ve let him go sooner—what were you thinking?—the storm was growing worse with every second and it was nearly two miles to Strawberry Farms. Thank goodness for Maru! Without her warning, they’d have really been in trouble… 

Heck, he should’ve offered to help him carry back his groceries, it was already starting to get dark. 

Man, what’s the matter with you? For shame!��

Even after Achilles’ tracks were the only trace of him that remained in sight, Alex continued staring across Pelican Town, a small furrow in his brow, his fingers tracing the bridge of his nose. 

“Shut the door, boy, what are you doing? It’s freezing. Come now, help your grandma set the table…”

With a jump, Alex bolted inside to the kitchen. 

Dinner was a quiet affair. Evelyn had cooked his favorite meal, honey garlic salmon, to celebrate his promotion, but he found he hadn’t much of an appetite. Even George had noticed his lack of chatter, had asked if everything was all right. 

But Alex had only shrugged, smiled wanly. 

“I’m ok! Big day, you know. I’m just tired.” 

As if.

He felt like champagne. 

[abyssal-ali]

wwyditnfuo - 2: something's changed, it's something I like

M | 2.5k | Ao3 | Masterlist | Main Masterlist | CW: -

Chapter 1 ->

Steph curled up in the corner of the sofa, putting Jason’s throw pillow in a chokehold. “Okay, what’s the plan, O Master Tactician?”

Jason snorted. “Well, I just met you, I only had enough time to figure out who you are and ask you to join me. We can plan together.”

“Oooh, do you have a whiteboard with red string?” Steph asked, only half-joking.

Jason eyed her. “No.”

Ah, well, Can’t win ‘em all.

“I do have a wall with red string, though.”

“Wait, really?” Steph perked up. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you.” Jason stood up, Steph following him down a hallway to an empty bedroom.

The far wall was covered in neat rows of sticky notes, red and black lines of string criss-crossing the columns. The closet doors were open, showing boxes of ammo and weapons stacked on top of each other. A row of papers printed with Black Mask, Joker, and Batman’s headshots was pinned to the wall by knives. 

“Wow, so…crime-lord-y,” Steph barely stifled a giggle.

Jason frowned at her, but she could tell it was so he could stop the grin creeping at the corner of his lips.

“You can use the sticky notes and string if there’s anything you want to add.”

“No pins, yet you throw knives?” Steph arched her brow at him, moving closer to read the writing on the sticky notes. “What a fascinating dichotomy. I imagine your landlord won’t be happy when you move out.”

Jason leaned against the doorframe, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “I own the apartment block.”

Steph glanced back at him. “Really? Huh.”

Thoroughly impressed by the plans laid out in those little notes, Steph grabbed a pen and pad of the notes to add her own observations about Gotham she’d noticed since her return from Tanzania several months ago.

“So, how are we going about Mask’s ruin? Are we going for just his assets, or sending him to Arkham? Is it gonna be in handcuffs or were you thinking an ambulance?”

Jason straightened. “I’m planning on hunting him till I drop him, burning each and every place he thinks is a safehouse as he runs away, haunted by my tracks as I burn everything he holds dear one at a time until he has nothing left. When he is completely and utterly ruined, then I will take him out.” His voice had gone hard, no trace of the joking guy Steph had been getting to know.

It was a shame his plans didn’t line up with hers.

She interlocked her fingers. “I’m not so sure about the killing part, Jason.”

She wanted to go to medical school, become a nurse like her mom, help people, heal people. Steph wasn’t sure she could help Black Mask if he needed medical aid, but she knew she couldn’t look him in the eyes and end his life. She hadn’t even fully planned out her strategy for confronting him; what was she doing allying with a known crime lord and serial killer? What had she thought was going to happen? Clearly, her incident with Black Mask hadn’t taught her to curb her impulsive tendencies enough.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can help you. I have to go.”

Steph brushed past him out to the entry, tugged her shoes on, and fled into the night.

~~~

Stepping out of her apartment on her way to Gotham U the next morning, Steph found a note tucked under the doormat of her apartment.

Curious, she picked it up and opened the envelope, which was sealed with an old-fashioned red wax seal. Snorting at his nerdiness and dramatic streak, she was unsurprised to find it signed ‘Jason’.

Once she was on the subway to Gotham U, she opened the note again to read it properly. His handwriting was a neat cursive, easy to read (or at least, better than some of her professors’.)

Steph,

I’m sorry you ran off like that. I hope I didn’t scare you away for good. 

Can we talk sometime soon? 

XXX-XXX-XXXX 

Your partner (I hope),

Jason

Steph pulled out her phone and added his contact, staring at his name for a while. She’d mostly been processing befriending, kissing, and partnering with Red Hood last night, but there was also the ‘Red Hood is Jason Todd is the second Robin’ issue to consider.

Narrows Robin, as most of those also from the Narrows called him, was her childhood crush. He’d cared and influenced Batman to care more about those in Crime Alley and the surrounding area, and he’d been one of theirs.

She could still hear his bright cackle as he kicked a goon in the face, swinging over the city with mama bear Batman right behind him.

Comparing that to the deep laugh from last night, she couldn’t quite see the resemblance. The lines of his face were similar, especially if she thought of Jason Todd, not Narrows Robin.

As a fellow Narrows-citizen, she could certainly understand how Narrows Robin became Red Hood, particularly if she recalled all the rumours that swirled around his purported death. 

Chewing on her lip, she decided to send him a quick text so he’d have her number. Although, if he’d tracked her apartment down, he wouldn’t have much trouble finding her number. 

Steph: Hey, it’s Steph

The subway was not attacked, burned, stalled because of rogue attack debris, or in any way compromised for about one in three days per year, which meant Steph arrived on time– early, even– and had plenty of time to meander across campus to her first class.

A notification ding alerted her to a new text from Jason.

Jason: Hi

Steph: Hey. Sorry about running out like that. I needed some time to process.

Jason: It’s fine. 

Steph: I’m free tomorrow evening if you wanna talk then?

Jason: Sure. Want to patrol for a bit together?

Steph: You’re cool with me shadowing the big bad Red Hood?

Jason: 🙄Yeah, you’re cool enough.

Steph: !!! If only I coulda added that to my Robin resume😭

Jason: Robin resume???

Steph: Did you not know that I was Robin for a short time? In between T’s terms

Jason: *you* were girl-Robin?

Steph: … 

Steph: Yes.

Jason: Cool

Steph: gtg class is starting

Jason: Class?

Steph: Are u just prtending u haven’t stalked me or do u really not kno

Jason: I figured I’d let my partner tell me about themselves on their own. I’m not B.

Steph: mihgty considerate og u

Jason: It’s remarkably easy.

Steph: 😂

Steph: Facts

Once she was seated in her class, she returned to her conversation.

Steph: Anyways yea I’m at GU for nursing

Jason: Aspiring to be a hero in the suit and out, huh?

Steph: Shut up

Steph: No

Steph: I just want to help people

Steph: I only became Spoiler and Robin to stop my dad

Steph: But then I became infected with the vigilante bug and I can’t stop now

Jason: It’s a curse

Steph: Tell me about it

Jason: Makes you feel alive

Jason: The wind in your hair as you grapple through the city

Jason: The skyline shining as a testament to our perseverance

Jason: The sound of people out late at night because it’s safer for them now

Jason: The cool stone of a gargoyle against your back as you read

Steph: Wow

Steph: That was beautiful

Steph: Do you write poetry?

Jason: I’m more of a prose guy but I won’t say no to a nice sonnet

Jason: And thank you

Steph: Can I see something you’ve written sometime?

Jason: Sure

Steph: Lecture is starting. Text you later

Jason: Bye

~~~

The next night saw Steph dressed in her new vigilante uniform. After Black Mask had uncovered her as Spoiler, and Batman obviously knew she was both Spoiler and Robin, she had needed a new alias.

She yearned for her purple cloak and face mask, but alas, the new vigilante had no particular opinions about the colour purple, and stuck to basic black and brown–the better to hide in the shadows with, my dear.

Wraith had a simple black bodysuit, brown leather belts and boots, and a black and brown cape and hood.

She swung up to Red Hood, who was sitting by a gargoyle, kicking his feet over the edge and taking a swig from a bottle of water. His helmet sat at his side, only a domino covering his eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She sat beside him, the cool from the stone seeping through her gloves. “So, what do you do on patrol?”

He chuckled. “I was just about to ask you what you did.”

She shrugged. “I don’t have a set patrol yet. I was still figuring out how to avoid the Bats and you. Mostly, I patrolled around campus, and around my old and current neighbourhoods.”

He tilted his head. “You tryin’ to stay undercover from the Bats or are you still just setting out? I noticed you don’t take on any of the big players.”

“I’m avoiding Bats where I can. He interfered with Spoiler’s mission enough. I just want to help with the small, everyday stuff. I’ve changed from wanting to take on the big guys. My dad is dead, so now I have no nemesis. I never really wanted one.”

Jason hummed understandingly. 

“Well, I usually meet with my lieutenants, go patrol the outer edges of my territory, then work my way inwards and take care of whatever needs to be done.

“I think I’m accepted as the boss of this area now, so things are usually quiet around the middle area of my territory. I take that time to patrol the fringes of my territory or do recon on projects. At the end of my night, I meet with my informants and take care of business deals.

“But of course, this is Gotham. I’m just as likely to be fighting a Rogue as I am to stick to my routine.”

They laughed together, acknowledging Gotham’s fickle nature as only natives could.

Jason heaved himself up and extended his hand to Steph. “Shall we go?”

She took it, marvelling at how easily he pulled her to her feet. Just imagine how else he could manhandle you–

“After you, monsieur,” she bowed deeply, letting him lead the way down the fire escape to where their bikes were parked.

~~~

The patrol went smoothly, Steph mostly hanging behind Jason as he went about his Red Hood business. He was firm but fair, commanding respect from all he interacted with.

Her heart melted a little when she saw him being hugged by a couple kids and the way he interacted with them, how he crouched to their level and let them ask questions about his getup. When their questions were temporarily exhausted, he asked them why they were up and out so late, and then took them back to their home a block away. 

Upon hearing their response of ‘sneaking out to see Red Hood’, he laughed and told them if they really wanted to contact him, he’d give them a phone number.

“You don’t have a signal like Batman,” said the girl, who was maybe six or seven.

“No, I use phones, like everyone else. The signal is a silly way to call Batman, don’t you think?” He asked. “With a phone call, you get an answer immediately.”

The brother and sister laughed at silly Batman as Jason carried them home, one in each arm.

“Who’s the lady with you?” asked the girl, the more outgoing of the two. “She’s pretty.”

“She is,” Jason winked back at her. “Her name is Wraith. She’s my patrol partner tonight.”

The kids pointed their home out, and Jasonn headed up the steps to knock on the door.

A tired-looking woman answered, noticeably startled to see Red Hood knocking on her door, with her children in his arms, whom she had thought were safely in bed.

Red Hood reassured her they were fine, gave her a number to one of his burner phones, and said good night to the kids, making them promise not to sneak out again before he left.

He joined Steph in the shadows again. “Sometimes I get little fans and have to take them home, too. But most of the people looking for me are significantly less happy when I take care of him.”

Steph stifled a giggle at his dark humour.

Once the patrol was over, they headed back to Jason’s apartment, where he made them more chai without Steph even having to ask.

“So, you’ve processed things enough?” he asked, sliding into the chair opposite her and leaning forward, elbows braced on the counter.

It really showed off his forearm muscles to their best effect, Steph noticed wistfully.

“Yeah. It was just a lot of stuff all at once that I wasn’t even remotely prepared for,” she replied.

He nodded, blowing on his chai to cool it before he drank it.

“Is there anything I could attempt to explain for you, any questions I could address?”

Steph sighed, sipping at her chai to distract herself temporarily.

“I can’t murder someone. I’m a nurse. I heal people. It’s…a big step to partner with someone I know is going to kill a person. I’m not judging you for your values and actions,” she hastened to explain. “But it’s different from you being some Rogue I might cross paths with, to personally working with you to cause someone’s murder.”

“Execution,” he corrected, but otherwise stayed silent, sipping his tea.

“Murder, execution, whatever,” she waved her hand. “I’ll be aiding and abetting someone killing someone else instead of stepping in, like I would if it was any other situation I came across. I’m sure you understand that this is a big deal for me.”

“So…what are you proposing, then? Continuing to work with me, but turning a blind eye to the end result? Not working together at all? Betraying your convictions in the end?”

Steph slouched in her seat, huffing a blonde curl out of her face. “I don’t know. It’s gonna take a while to get to the end of the plot to ruin him, right?” She tapped her fingernails rhythmically against her mug, enjoying the quiet ceramic clinks.

“Probably, yeah. There’re still things to plan.”

“How about we keep our partnership until I settle this matter for myself, then. I’ll decide what to do once we’ve gone further with the plan.”

Jason eyed her from over his mug. “Sounds fine, partner.”

He drained his mug and got up to rinse it out.

Returning to retrieve Steph’s mug, he braced his palms on the counter, his large form leaning into her space.

“Now, shall we deal with the elephant in the room?”

“Elephant?” Steph asked mindlessly, falling into his unique blue-green eyes, admiring the tiny freckles dotting his face, the perfect white curl over his forehead.

How did he wear that Red Hood helmet for hours every night and yet still have such perfect curls effortlessly, while she had to go through a fifteen-step hair care routine if she wanted semi-presentable curls? It just wasn’t fair.

“Steph?” “Hm?”

“Do you want something to eat? The way you’re eyeing me, I’m a little concerned for my safety.”

Feeling her cheeks burning, she slapped at his hand, a hit he let her land.

“What were you saying about elephants?”

“Ah, yes. Is now a good time to deal with the elephant in the room; namely, what are we doing about the…kiss from yesterday?”

Aw, crap.

Chapter 3 ->