#glasses is too mundane when he wears a costume like that

[opmshitposts]

[fariesoiree]

LEMON TART!

caution! mdni! 11k wrdz, bie is a little bit obsessed with you, he is also a bit ooc :3, black reader <3, fem reader, someone tries to steal your car, pet names, sexual themes, fingering, oral ( f receiving ), overstimulation but barely, you get spanked like once, use of the word cunt, cunny, pussy, i mention you having something pink like eleven billion times bc i luv pink, yes i do add links for outfits but you can totes ignore them, think that’s all lmk if i missed smthing pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

The day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

You’re on your way home from your pilates class, blissfully unaware of the interested eyes on you. Dressed in a baby pink athletic set and glistening with the sheen of sweat, you take a swig of water from the matching pink bottle. The keys to your gray Jaguar convertible dangle at your fingertips.

Truthfully, Hobie doesn’t visit that area much. He’s only there to cure his boredom, in search of a quick fix. When there isn’t a lot of crime to stop or he decides that day he simply doesn’t care enough, he sits in shopping centers. He likes to play this little game and see how many kids he could keep from running into the street without their parents’ watchful eyes.

He has just gotten comfy on his perch after “saving” his third child when he spots you walking out the glass doors of some overpriced gym. The way the sun bounces off your melanated skin almost makes you seem saintly. He swears he even hears angelic singing in the background. Hobie can’t seem to keep his eyes off you while you prance into your car. His chest tugs when you disappear from his sight, seated behind tinted windows. He almost chases after you when you drive off, disappearing into the crowd of other civilians living their mundane lives.

Hobie finds himself having to restrain himself, gripping the ledge of the building. He is already hated in the public eye. No one appreciates his borderline heroic acts, although he wouldn’t call it that himself. They don’t even appreciate the riots he starts in the name of a better world. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s saved the public from disastrous events but they didn’t care and he didn’t mind. Hobie actually prefers to deviate from what was accepted but he fells this would be too far. To follow an innocent woman on her way home? He would never cross that line, in costume or not.

Instead, he opts for visiting this location every Wednesday at 10:27 AM. Just ten minutes before your class would be released and you’d walk out wearing some cute color that made you look tempting. Each time, you’d be glowing with the aftereffects of a workout and each time he’d have to restrain himself from tailing you. It was his routine. He’d always be in his spot and you’d always be in yours, lives never intersecting.

Until.

Wednesday at 10:24 AM, Hobie sits in his spot. Sometimes he’d look off in the distance and daydream about your future together, sometimes he’d stare at the glass windows and hope to catch a glimpse of you on your way out. It’s just as sunshiney as any other day, the birds accompanying his thoughts of euphoria to spend forever with you.

He kicks his feet over the side of the ledge and swings them aimlessly. Time couldn’t pass any slower, could it? Keeping you from each other, from maybe possibly crossing paths just this once. The thought made him smile. As if you’d ever cross paths. Too many risks with that one.

His eyes land on a man wandering in the parking lot. There is nothing particularly interesting about him but Hobie still feels that itch in his palms, the tickle on the back of his neck. He tilts his head to the side and observes the man slowly making his way through the parking lot. He seems to take a particular interest in the cars across the street. The man never actually touches the cars. He just takes a peak at the back of them, maybe the rear window. It can easily be mistaken for searching for his car in the lot but there isn’t that much traffic. Not to mention, Hobie has enough practice to know better.

He watches the man take one final peak at a familiar gray convertible. So familiar he could spout the license plate off the top of his head or point out the Hello Kitty sticker on the bumper in a room full of them.

Sure Hobie would have swung over even if it wasn’t your car but he couldn’t ignore the intense tug at his heart. He fwips his web over to a light pole and jumps off the building without a second thought. To be honest, he didn’t truly have a plan. The only sound he can hear is the rushing blood in his head and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his brain. Hobie knows he has to stop him and that’s all he has going for him.

“What’cha up to here, man.” He lands on the pavement behind the man, hands on his hips and gesturing to the scene. “Anything I can help with?”

The man’s head snaps up to meet Spider Punk's eyes. He licks his lips and his hand drops hesitantly to his back pocket. “I can’t find the keys to my car and I wanted to see if the doors were unlocked, you know? New technology and this whole push to start thing.”

“Mmm.” Hobie leans forward and peers inside the windows. While he already knew the small details you allowed him indirect access to, he didn’t need everyone else knowing Spider-punk has an infatuation. “You drive a car with a pink steering wheel cover and princess sticker on the dashboard? No judgment.”

The man only huffs. He bucks up to Hobie, nearly shoving him out the way to get to the door handle. “Listen man, I’m just trying to get in my car. What’s it to you? It’s not yours.”

“No but it’s mine.”

Both heads turn to spot you, standing a safe distance away. Your eyebrows are knit together and you're gripping your similarly pink gym bag. You’re wearing a gray set today, hair slicked back and tied down with a matching gray scarf. “What is going on here?”

You feel a burning feeling in your heart, accompanied with the bubbling anxiousness prickling your skin and causing you to sweat a bit more. “What are you doing to my car?”

“Fucking hell.” The man grumbles distastefully. He doesn’t get a chance to run away, already being blasted against the neighboring car and restrained by thick webs. His body is sure to leave a small dent on the door but everyone knows Spider Punk isn’t exactly neat with his approach.

You look accusingly between Hobie and the perpetrator. Of course the one in the getup wasn’t trying to commit grand theft auto but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt your baby. You paid a pretty penny for her and it isn’t like he has the best track record. “What are you doing?” You restate from your safe spot.

Hobie’s mouth goes dry. Absolutely dry. If he tries to say anything right now the only thing that will leave his lips will be embarrassing squeaks. He is usually so much more composed than this. It isn’t like he doesn’t have women flocking to him constantly and occasionally, he does entertain them. He has enough life experience to run a brothel and here he is, getting cotton mouthed at the pretty girl he’s been watching for the last few weeks.

A breeze blows by and he gets a whiff of vanilla.

“Well?”

“I . . . uh . . . I caught him trying to break in so I intercepted. I didn’t know it was yours. You might want to call the police.”

“Oh my gosh, of course.” You reach into the front pocket to pull out your phone. How fitting to have a bedazzled case, pink and silver in a gleaming heart. “Did he get in or take anything or break anything? I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had anyone steal my car before. Do I need to call my lawyer? Are we going to court or something?” You’re rambling and rushing, messily punching in the numbers. Your heartbeat is finally starting to dull but the warm rushing has yet to cease.

“You have a lawyer?” He supposes it makes sense. Although most people he knows don't have a lawyer on call, you would be someone who would. You must come from an affluent family with the whole driving Jaguars and having lawyers thing.

You pause, sniffing a bit. “Yeah…?” You sideways glance to nothing before meeting his eyes again.

There is a beat of silence between you both.

“Right. Anyway, no. He didn’t take anything. I’ve been patrolling the area and caught him before he did. Just, uh, finish up calling the police and report this guy.” Hobie felt kind of naked. He may have been fully dressed but he is itching to find somewhere to put his hands. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have his jacket to hide them in so he crosses his arms instead.

“No, yeah. I will. Thank you so much. Is there something I can do to repay you? I feel a bit stupid and I left my car unlocked. I could, like, give you cash or something? You could get lunch.”

Oh, you’re just as sweet up close. The slight concern and guilt in your eyes. The way they sparkle and dance across his mask. Maybe you are trying to figure out who he is or engrave this moment in your memory like he is.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t need your money. I don’t take people’s money anyway.” He’s not quite sure if it conveys through the mask but he smiles. Gentle and honest. “Jus’ stay out of trouble and lock your doors, yeah?”

You dip your head sheepishly. How humiliating it is to have a crimestopper tell you something so obvious. It makes your stomach churn with embarrassment and your cheeks flush with warmth but you acknowledge his warning. It’s hard not to when he said it in such a buttery voice. You wonder if he looks as good as he sounds.

Hobie takes this opportunity to make a smooth exit, swinging away into the distance with his heart in his ears and a ridiculous grin on his face. He feels like a kid in the candy shop all over again. Except instead of being presented with a bunch of different options, he is presented with his favorite option.

It’s unbelievable that the previous parallel life lines finally crossed. Sure, it’s due to circumstances Hobie prefer you never experienced but they crossed nevertheless. He saved the girl of his dreams from the big bad monster and saw her smile mere steps away. Got to see the radiant aura you emit and the brilliant warmth that just has to have an effect on everyone around you.

That must be the reason you were targeted today. Even the worst people can’t ignore the huge target on your back. They are drawn in by the invisible tiara on your head and the glow of your cheeks. They can feel there was a princess in their presence and feel desperate to tear that innocence apart. That just won’t do. Hobie has to protect you from their rotten doings. You are untouchable, too perfect to be tainted. He can’t risk their dirt and grime coming near you. Sure, he feels somewhat obligated to protect everyone but there is no one at greater risk than you. No one as flawless, as pure.

You are clearly too silly to take care of yourself and you should be. The world should bend at your will and do what you want. It is foolish to expect you to look over your shoulder or lift a finger for your wellbeing. Someone should do that for you and that someone should be him.

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You appear to be completely oblivious to the outside world, too busy aiding your stumbling friend out of the club and into the Uber with one hand on her back and the other holding her hand. Her heels are long gone and in the hands of your other friend. All of your attention is completely devoted to her wellbeing but you can’t ignore the nagging feeling on the back of your neck.

It’s been there the past few days and only makes you feel more paranoid. There has been a sudden spike in Spider Punk appearances near you, a sudden spike in dangerous situations you have found yourself in. It’s as if you can’t take five steps out of your apartment without Spider Punk swinging through to save civilians from dangers you weren’t previously aware of. In some situations, it’s you.

Once again, you give the world behind you a fleeting look over your shoulder. As usual, you are only greeted with traffic and the night sky, full of glistening stars. See? You’re just being ludicrous. There’s no crazed monster trailing you and there is no need to feel so paranoid.

“☆,” your friend is whining in your ear. Her head is slumped over and rolling, accompanied by her groans. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, please don’t.” You let go of her hand to lift her head. Your eyes met hers, glazed from tears and bloodshot. “It would be so much better if you waited until we got you home.” You pat her cheek in hopes the feeling will distract her drunken mind from the sloshing alcohol in her stomach. It’s a weak attempt however it’s still an attempt. “If you throw up, they won’t let you in the car.”

Lottie can only cry out in irritation. “I am never going to drink alcohol ever again. It feels like Satan’s ass is in my stomach.” Her head lolls onto your shoulder. Her blonde locs are draped all over you and you indulge in the small amount of warmth provided.

“Don’t worry about it, ☆. I can get her home by myself. You live in the other direction and I’m staying over there tonight, anyway.” Rico has to look over Lottie’s shriveled form to meet your eyes. She looks apologetic about her girlfriend’s condition but you shrug it off and shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I want to make sure you guys get home safe and Lottie is gone. I don’t mind, really.” You’re almost insistent when you tell her. As concerned as you sound, deep down you know it is truly because you don’t want to go home on your own. You can’t shake the feeling that someone has their eyes on you from a distance and the last thing you want was to walk home on a busy night, alone.

Rico pulls the black Honda’s door open and ushers Lottie inside as smoothly as she can. “You’re such a sweetheart but you really don’t have to. We live thirty minutes in the opposite direction and these prices are obnoxious at this time of night. Just go home and call me as soon as you get there.”

You purse your lips. You have no intention of spending any money tonight to get home. You already spent the last of what you could to get in the club. You are just waiting for your dad to send you your weekly allowance. You can admit, you are a bit dumb with your money and your rules but can you really be to blame? You were born with a gold spoon in your month and no conception of how money works. Between lavish parties with socialites and getting anything you’ve ever asked for, you don’t have the best idea of what the world is like. However, your allowance is for fun and your paychecks are for household expenses. Is it your fault that you make much more in your allowance and could blow through it in a week if you wanted? Not at all.

“Okay,” you provide Rico with a less than satisfying tight smile. “Text me when you get home, Ri. I’ll drop your stuff off tomorrow. And let me know how Lottie is doing. Her hangover is gonna be insane.”

Rico is barely concerned with responding back. She’s both trying to wriggle her way into the car without disturbing the drunken girl and get them both safely buckled and situated. “M’kay. I’ll call you.”

“Bye, ☆! I love you so much!” The producer of the shriek is leaning against the coolness of the opposite window, reaching out symbolically to grab you. “You’re one of my best friends in the entire world and I don’t know what I would do withou –”

“Okay, bye!” Rico glances at you apologetically for the last time. Then, the door is slammed. The last you see is her hand comfortingly patting against her girlfriend’s thigh.

You watch the car drive away and sigh as a chill settles under your skin. Of course you don’t realize how truly cold it was outside until the warmth of your night has disappeared down the street. Not to mention what shots you did consume wore off the moment Lottie went off the rails. No longer could you enjoy your buzz. Instead, you have to get her home.

It ‘s a bit comical. Being marginally afraid of getting home alone on Halloween night. To be honest, this isn’t really how you planned your night to go. You were supposed to go out tonight with your friends and return back home with a guy. You were the tightest top you had with the smallest skirt you could find on purpose but now you are regretting it, standing on the sidewalk in fifty degree weather. And still, that sick, creeping feeling is nestled on the nape of your neck.

You scrunch your face in displeasure before starting your trek home. Fortunately, your luxury apartment was only fifteen minutes away and the city was still very much active. The only reason you feel an inkling of nervousness is due to the unusual feeling.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around yourself and you brush it off. It has to be nothing. There is no way you have such a persistent stalker who follows you everywhere. Sure, that is the definition of a stalker but it can’t happen to you, can it? It can’t. You simply won’t allow it.

You mumble about your irritation and tilt your gaze to the sky. The stars were beautiful but there was just something off about tonight. Maybe not in the sky but it feels like something is going to happen. As if you’re waiting to be a piece in a climatic story.

You grunt when someone brushes against you a bit too hard and meet the eyes of someone caught just as off guard as you.

“Sorry,” you speak in passing. Immediately after you find yourself cursing at yourself for being so careless. Pay attention when you walk. It’s a rule as old as time and naturally, you have a hard time following it.

You stop to take a break, maybe get out of your head. You’re leaning against the brick wall and pull out your phone. Perhaps it would be better to walk with some music. Keep you distracted from losing your mind over nothing. Or maybe not. Walking with noise in your ears while being paranoid, post robbery? Probably not a good idea.

Your fingers are fumbling across your phone screen. At this point, you’re ready to drop an extra band just to get an Uber. Already, you’re shivering from lack of physical activity. Occasionally, you can feel the weird glances from passing men, spotting a nearly vulnerable girl on the edge of sidewalk.

You’re just about to confirm your ride when a familiar tattered suit begins a slow stride towards you. Like a stunned idiot, anxious out of her mind, you squint at him. Not that you need particular aid seeing such a detailed and colorful suit, but it is a bit difficult to tell if that was the true Spider Punk or if a superfan decided to spend their entire savings on a high quality costume.

Fortunately for you, you got your confirmation.

“Yo? Aren’t you the girl with the car? The really nice one?”

“Huh?”

His voice is velvet in your ears, almost melting away your nervousness. Is it because he’s saved you in the past or because you just found yourself especially enamored by the richness of it all?

“Like, two weeks ago. Didn’t I help you out with your car and that guy?” As if you were longtime friends, Spider Punk strolls up to you. His hands are snug comfortably in the pockets in his fashionably tattered vest and for the first time, it truly registers just how tall he is.

You have to tilt your head up to view him, almost completely and it makes you feel particularly shy. Your words get caught in your throat, although you’re aware of the increasing time ticking between his question and your delayed response.

Spider Punk doesn’t fill the silence, however. He simply stands there with his head cocked to the side. His patience doesn’t help your fragile grasp on your sanity.

“Oh, uh yeah. Probably. I decided to press charges n’ stuff.” You wet your lips and turn your head away. At this rate, you are going to explode. This is overwhelming, stressful. You should be home right now. “What are you doing walking around? I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to be in public, like that.”

“Ah,” you see him turn his face to the sky and a chuckle leaves his lips. Even if you can’t see his face, you know he’s smiling. It’s obvious in how his mask pulls. “I never said I was a superhero, sweetheart. I just like protecting the people I care about.”

Your eyes meet again but instead of feeling flustered, you’re facing him with confusion. Was there an undertone or did he happen to be in the right place at the right time? “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.”

He doesn’t allow for a second of silence, springing the next question onto you almost immediately. “What are you doing here? It’s getting a bit late and pretty girls like you should be at home out of harm's way.”

“I . . . what?”

There’s another patience silence. Clearly, he isn’t interested in your stumbling and stuttering. You’re getting the point, now.

“I’m on my way home but I’m a bit shaken up. I’ve never been in that type of confrontation before.” Admittedly, you haven’t experienced any confrontation. Rich girl living in a bubble and assuming she is untouchable. Pretty typical. It isn’t something you would admit to most people. Had it been anyone else, anyone who hasn’t seen some pretty crazy crimes, you would have just chalked it up to anxiety due to lack of sleep.

“Mmm,” Spider Punk takes a glance over his shoulder. Considering the night, no one is paying any attention to him. Like you, they assume he put a ton of hard work into that costume. “Would you like me to escort you back home? I’m just patrolling, anyway.”

“I thought you do this for people you care about.” Your smile is slow growing, both from the reassurance that he’ll be able to work as your bodyguard for the passing moments and to lighten the mood.

“I do.”

“Oh.” It wavered just as slowly as it developed.

“I can do both. Like I said, I’m just patrolling.” He shrugs. His hands are drawn from his pockets and gently guide you to begin your journey to your apartment. Although you can’t see it, you can feel the size on the small of your back. If he truly wanted, he could probably crush your skull. The thought itself isn’t all that attractive but when it leads to other suggestions on where he could put them or what he could do with them is where the real fun begins.

The walk back is voiceless. Sounds of the city fill the space where a conversation would be. You feel twitchy, hyper aware of the situation. There’s probably a serious conflict happening somewhere, and here you are hogging safety all to yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this. I can make it home myself or get a ride or something.” You twirl a passion twist around your finger, narrowing in on the loose ends slowly unraveling. That nagging feeling is gone with him by your side.

He nods and you miss his eyes lingering on the top of your head, slowly raking over your form and drinking in the details. “You probably can. I’ve been swinging through, though and you’ve been in the same spot for five minutes.” The pale green color of your top looks alluring on your skin, along with the pink flowers decorating the hem. Oh, how angelic you are. “What are you supposed to be?”

Your refusal to look and acknowledge him doesn’t go unnoticed but he doesn’t press about it. In his eyes, this is a rare opportunity to burn you and your absoluteness into his memory. He’s only been able to hear the sweetness of your voice twice now, directed to him. Stolen conversations and hidden glances weren’t truly enough.

“Nothing special. A sprite or an elf or something. I haven’t decided yet.” You’re looking at your own Halloween costume now. A bit silly to not know what you were after parading around in it but it’s cute and that’s all that matters. The night is over, any and it’s not like anyone is truly that curious. “What are you doing walking around? I know you said you’re patrolling but aren’t you concerned about being followed?”

“Eh,” the thought really rolls off his shoulders, “look around. There’s dozens of me everywhere. They’d have to go and target every single one and no one wants to do that. Too busy celebrating with their families or being miserable they don’t have one.”

The conversation kind of dies there. It gets a bit awkward, walking side by side with someone you barely met. Little do you know, Spider Punk knows you like the back of his hand. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. Of course, he planned to insert himself into your life eventually but tonight was not the way he thought it would go. However, it’s better than he imagined. Walking his favorite girl to the safety of her living space, although he already knew where you live.

He’s been there almost every night, perched on the ledge of the roof of the building across the street. He knows he said he wouldn’t but that’s where you are most vulnerable. There, he would sit, watching you walk here and there, dilly dally through your night routine. Finally, when you would get comfortable under the plush duvet and set your phone down on your nightstand is when he’d consider leaving. He’d make his departure only when you are sound asleep, drifting off into your dreamspace.

But tonight, tonight he gets to walk with you. Would it be too much to hope you invite him in? He could fake a cough for a glass of water and take a mental picture of your space from a first person view, only to go home and completely map it out on paper. How would he protect you if he didn’t know every miniscule detail about your life? He is the only thing standing between you and the evilness in this world.

The silence grows oddly comfortable. Spider Punk is too deep in thought but only he knows what about. You’re relishing in the fact that you truly haven’t felt comfort like this in a while. No longer does it feel like someone is watching you from a distance. After a while, you’re both approaching the bright lights in the lobby.

“This is my stop.” You stand with your arms clasped behind your back. It’s evident you need your keycard to get in but digging into your chest to pull it out wasn’t too appealing, right now. “I can make my way in so you can leave now. Thank you so much for walking me home.”

Hobie tilts his head. Under his mask, he’s awfully disappointed. As if he’d let you dance your way out of this. “I’ll walk you to your door. Gotta finish my job completely, ☆.”

You don’t remember telling him your name but he probably got it the last time you saw each other. Maybe superheroes just know that kind of stuff.

“You don’t have to do that!” You only tighten your grip behind your back. “I’m fine and our security is really good. I’m home now so it’s okay.” You shift under his stare and his silence. Is he always like this? Stubborn and refusing to argue back? “So you can go now…”

“Or you can open the door.” He crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his side. You are certain if he didn’t have that mask on, he would be glaring at you right now. This has to be the sassiest man you know. He’s doing quite a bit just to walk you to your door.

You grumble some complaints and turn away, angling your body away from him and the glass doors. Your focus is the doors, though. The chances of you running into the residents are significantly higher than running into Spider Punk, again. You didn’t want your poor neighbors to be scarred with the image of you digging in between your boobs for your keycard. You turn back around to catch him just barely averting his gaze. At his height, it wasn’t too hard to peek over your shoulder and the temptation was just undeniable.

Your lips are pressed into a pout while you swipe the plastic square. The excitement bubbling in your stomach from attention is impossible to ignore but you lie to yourself and insist you’re so deeply bothered, you can feel it.

Like the gentleman he is, Spider Punk takes the door from you. He holds it open, following behind closely through the doorway. “Damn, this is nice.” He lets out a low whistle. His head draws a slow circle at the high ceilings and the floor to ceiling windows. “You really live like this, princess?”

You pout harder at his question. The amazement is normal, of course, but still. Somehow it all makes you feel alien, especially with the pet name attached. “Obviously.” You make a beeline to the elevator in an attempt to avoid the curious gazes directed your way.

With his long legs and therefore long stride, he doesn’t have to put in any effort to maintain your speed. “What’s the attitude for? Didn’t know I was offending you.” It’s difficult to tell whether or not he’s taunting you. It sounds sincere but somehow you doubt it.

“There is no attitude.” You retaliate back. You’re relentlessly jamming your finger on the elevator button. “You asked if I live here, I said obviously. That’s it.” Truthfully, not even you are sure what the bite back is for. First, you didn’t appreciate how he asked about your building. Then, you just found yourself stuck here. Really, this is all his fault.

Spider Punk leans against the wall beside you. His big boots scuff the floor beneath him but otherwise, he seems unphased. “Mmm,” he hums. His head lolls to the side. Your side. You’re ignoring the intense stare he’s giving you and you regret rushing the elevator now.

The door opens with a ding. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there are people already in it. While that means you don’t have to face whatever thoughts he has brewing to your response, you do have to deal with the awkwardness in front of a group of people, some of whom are too nosey for their own good.

As a result, the ride up is quiet. All the up to the fifty-second floor, neither of you speak a word. The door opens and you step out, noting that even in his brooding silence, Spider Punk lets you go first. Had it been any other man, a normal man, you would have ditched him at the front door but a “hero” wouldn’t come in and bombard you in your own space.

He follows you to your door, trailing on your heels. It’s unnerving how silent he is. He doesn’t look bothered but he merely watches you move. Watch you use your keycard to open your door, watch you turn the handle, and watch you turn your head back to his. “Okay. I’m home now.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” He retorts with a hint of a mocking tone. Clearly, he still feels a bit dishonored by your previous choice in tone. “I’m waiting for you to walk in. Like I said, gotta finish my job completely.”

“Oh. Right. You definitely said that before.” You sheepishly smile. The door to your apartment is pushed open, giving him a wide view of the pinked out living room. Not surprisingly enough, there are plenty of pastel colors, sanrio memorabilia, and flowers all over the place.

Shiny, white heated floors, stuffed animals strewn about. Plenty of comforting blankets and a flower shaped floor cushion in the corner. Looks just like you.

“I’d tell you how nice your place is but I don’t want you to bite my head off.”

Your shoulders drop, followed by an exasperated sigh. There is no way to explain he’s the reason you’re snappy and flustered. Him and his deep voice and calming nature. Him and his chivalry and big hands. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Thank you for your compliment.”

Spider Punk turns his head up as if he’s miffed but the corners of his mask pull into a small smile. “It’s fine. Couldn’t stay too mad at ya, anyway. Could I come in? You know, to use your bathroom. I’ll leave right after but night patrolling is a pretty big job and I have needs, too.”

You’re hesitant, glancing over your shoulder. You really shouldn’t. Your better judgment is screaming at you for allowing this to continue this far. Despite his supposed nobility, he is a man and you live alone. Still, he walked you all the way home and saved your baby the other day.

“Um, sure.” You push your door open farther. The much taller man saunters right in as if he’s all too familiar with the place.

He stops in the entryway. Once again, his hands have found their way into his pockets. “Which way am I going, sweetheart?” He’s got a pretty rough guideline of the direction but he couldn’t tell you that. You’d never speak to him again.

“It’s just down the hall, that way. It’ll be on your left.” You’re still undoing the straps of your heels, one hand on the wall to maintain your balance. The last time you checked, the guest bathroom is in perfect order. How fortunate all your friends gather in your room and use your bathroom, instead. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

You linger around just to watch him enter the bathroom before escaping to your room. In an ideal world, you’d be home alone and jump right into the shower. However, with a stranger within your property, you would much rather stick around to ensure he promptly makes his exit.

Once your feet touch the plush rug by your vanity, you begin un-readying yourself. Your butt-length twists are going up haphazardly into a bun. You’re pulling the hoops out your ears and the strip lashes off your eyes. The makeup remained, however. You were never the biggest fan of makeup wipes. They’re wasteful and never really get into your skin the way you want. Your skincare routine is much more thorough than that.

You pad your way over to your closet and pull out one of your pullover robes. With a quick glance casted at the door to safeguard your privacy, you begin peeling your clothes off you. Your top is tossed in the direction of your hamper before you’re moving onto the flowy brown skirt.

That’s when you see him.

You’re bent over, skirt halfway down your legs. Shirtless, braless, tits all out on display. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and frozen. You know he’s looking at you. His mask is pointed directly at you and even though you can’t see his expression, he has to be just as frozen as you are.

You snap back up, skirt coming up with you. You’re refusing to turn around, hands cupping your breasts while you reach for the robe. Your cheeks are burning and you have no idea if he’s still there or not. You didn’t hear any heavy footsteps, any boots smacking against the floor.

“You didn’t have to stop the show, ☆. I wasn’t expecting a strip tease but can’t say I don’t like it.”

You’re bumbling to pull the robe over your head. The fabric rolls and gets caught on itself but you’re persistent, tugging and pulling in all kinds of directions. “What are you doing here? This is the complete opposite direction of the bathroom.” You don’t turn around, not now, not ever. Instead, you tug on your hair next until the bun is loose and misshapen enough to mold and fit under the hood of the robe.

“You told me to tell you if I needed anything. I’m done and I’m leaving. Just happened to hear you make noise and rustling in here.”

You can hear him closing the space between you. Can feel the weight of his boots though the floor and his presence when he is eventually standing behind you. “Don’t gotta be shy about it. I’ve seen plenty in my life.” He knows it doesn’t sound the best or come out as comforting but his thoughts are a bit fogged over.

Sure, sometimes he gets glimpses of your body through your window but it’s nothing like this. You are always sure to change out of view or close your curtains, opening them when you’re finished. Sometimes he’d see the bottom of your ass peeking through your shorts. Sometimes he was lucky enough to see you parading around in tiny tops. Definitely didn’t compare to seeing your body up close.

“Gee, thanks. Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You scowling and muttering under your breath. You turn, finally, ignoring the burn of your cheeks and the rush of blood throughout your body. You’re ready to give him some sort of spiel about respecting your space and guiding him out the door but your voice is caught in your throat.

“Getting tired of the attitude, darlin’. You’re usually so sweet.” He’s so statuesque, towering over you. With his close proximity, to actually look you in the eyes, his chin is grazing his chest.

You encase your bottom lip between your teeth. If you were an idiot, which you might be for pushing this, you would have noticed the change in the air. Tensions, probably, growing much thicker than they should. “Usually?”

He doesn’t further explain. Instead, his eyes drift over to your discarded top in the corner. “What is with you tonight, ☆? You’re always so sweet. Did something happen while you were at the club? Or was it on the way back before I got you?”

“What? How did you know where I was?” Your eyes grow wide and your stomach churns. That feeling that someone was observing you from a distance, was that him? Who did you just invite in?

He ignores your question. Instead, he has a seat on the ottoman behind him with a sigh. He’s way too comfortable in your home. “Close the curtains, would you?”

You blink slowly. Nothing about this makes sense. His comfortability is unnerving and you hate the way he’s giving you requests in your own apartment you pay for. “I’m sorry? You want me to close my curtains?”

Spider Punk runs his hand down the front of his face. Your constant putting up a fight is exhausting him. He only has but so much unwavering patience, especially when he’s been anticipating this moment. “Yes, love. It would be really helpful if you could close the curtains so I can take my mask off.” He’s resorting to speaking to you like a child, slow and pitchy.

“Wait, what?” His confession to want to unmask right here, right now distracted you completely. You may not know much about his profession but you know that he is never to do. Doing right here in your apartment? That doesn’t sound quite right. “Why?”

“Oh my days!” He groans and in one swift motion, ejects his web to pull the white, blackout curtains shut. “I ask you to do one thing. One simple thing. Had you closed the curtains, I would have told you.” Spider Punk pulls his mask just as quickly as he closes the curtains. Beneath it, he reveals to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Dark chocolate skin as glowy as ever and equally dark eyes. His face is adorned with methodically placed piercings. A spider bite, a nose ring, a couple of ear and eyebrow piercings. Despite the laws of physics, his mask completely hid the length of the bulk of his locs. They fell all around, framing his face and between his eyes. Your knees buckle when he looks at you.

“Come here and please do it without the mouth. I’m doing my best and you’re really getting in the way of that.”

You feel like your body moves on it’s own. What’s possessed you to be so pliant, you have no idea. You know this is wrong, know that there is something unbalanced about this. There’s such a pretty man looking at you though, with the expectation that you can do no wrong. Who are you to deny yourself of indulging in the moment, especially when your earlier plans to get dicked down were foiled when you prioritized the health of your inebriated friend. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You’re suddenly standing in front of him before you realize and his hands fly up to your hips. Gently, he’s pushing you to the ground, only stopping when you’re kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to ask you once. What’s bothering you, pretty girl? You had a weird temperament all night and I know it’s something. You’ve never been this way before.”

You tilt your head, unintentionally pushing your cheek father into his hand. He runs his thumb over the chub of it and you can feel the rough calluses graze against your skin. “I don’t understand. You only met me twice.” Your eyelashes brush against his fingers.

“Mhm. We’ve only officially met twice. That’s not the answer to my question, though.” His hands leave your cheeks and snake around your waist, rubbing the expansion of your back, down to your hips.

You’re awfully unsatisfied with his reply and nearly push him for more until you feel the harsh squeeze on your ass. You can feel your pussy lips separating and the thin cloth of your panties is quick to stick to the thin layer of slick between your legs. The discomfort makes you squirm and though it doesn’t go unnoticed, it is ignored.

“Nothing is wrong,” you finally say. “I’m fine. Just anxious, I guess.” Your eyes are downcast to hide the lie in your eyes. You’re sure he knows the real reason and will try to drag it out of you but that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

SLAP! His hand rains down on your left cheek. He grins when you whimper and lean forward in an attempt to evade his grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not talking to me like this because you're anxious. What is it?”

Your head hangs low in anticipation. You don’t know how to find the words to say but you’re very aware the time is ticking. “I . . . It’s because . . .” Your following explanation is nothing but a mumble, too embarrassed to say it confidently.

“Didn’t hear you, pretty girl. Gotta speak up.” From behind, his hand yanks down the hood and gives a correctional tug to your hair until you’re facing him again. “Tell Hobie what’s botherin’ you.”

You want to pout and whine. Your stance is uncomfortable but the pull on your scalp is delicious. You can’t decide if you’re angry with him for putting you in the position or enjoying it so much you want to play your role. “It’s ‘cause I don’t know what to do around you. You make me nervous.”

At this, he perks up. It has the opposite effect on you. His grip tightens and the pull increases. He leans forward, his lips ghost over the space between your neck. “Do I? That’s not nice though, is it? Haven’t done anything to you. Didn’t put you in danger. Walked you home, made sure you’re safe and sound. I don’t deserve that, do I?”

“No,” Your speech is shaky when he attaches his lips to your skin. Your hands are on his thighs, holding on to what little sanity you have left. It is entirely too easy to get lost in this, in him. Even when he’s doing little to nothing, you can feel him and his warmth everywhere. You press your thighs together to alleviate the gentle throb of your clit.

“Didn’t think so.”

It comes as a surprise to you when you’re suddenly bare. The cloth previously on your body is tugged off without a second thought. Your brain is spinning in an attempt to catch up. The breeze of the air entices your nipples to slowly erect. They’re budding enough to catch Hobie’s attention. He gently rolls them between his fingers, using this as an opportunity to monitor your expression. “When’s the last time someone touched you, pretty? The last time someone had you creamin’ on their shit.”

Your face is contorting in poorly hidden pleasure. You’re doing your best to maintain solid ground, occasionally pressing your legs into each other and rubbing them back and forth. He’s teasing, playing with you slowly and you hated it but you weren’t one to voice your opinion. “Mm, I- I just lost my virginity a few months ago so...”

“You poor little thing.” His voice is dripping with content. Hobie tenderly kisses your forehead. He removes his hands from your body. “Stand up, why don’t you? Let me help you out, doll.”

To no one’s surprise, there is no hesitation or lip service with this request. You’re quick to stand up, disregarding your eagerness and mostly naked body in front of his calmness and fully dressed self. You’re almost beaming when Hobie’s hands find purchase at you again. He’s tugging down both your skirt and black mesh panties. He doesn’t even have to ask you to aid him in removing them. You step out of the materials accordingly and kick them across the room.

He moves you around himself, pulling your body against his. Your hands are moved to rest against his shoulders and your leg is lifted onto the space beside him. “Stay just how I put you.” Hobie looks at you through his eyelashes. He kisses the inside of your thigh. really taking his time to draw out the soft gasps as he made his way closer to your core. Hobie nips and bites at your skin on the way there. Occasionally, he leaves teeth marks behind. It’s only proper to leave something to remember him by in case he doesn’t get this opportunity again.

He has a grip with your thigh but the other hand wanders. It brushes up your leg and your stomach. It glides behind your back and fondles with the globes of your ass, pushing and kneading. It comes back around and slips between your legs. They softly run through against your folds and collect your wetness on the pads of his fingers.

You hum, almost ready to push against him. He’s taking this entirely too slow and it’s driving you crazy. “Hobie, please.” You whine. If you didn’t know any better, you’d push his hand in yourself.

He chuckles and pats your cunny. He can hear the moisture smacking and sloshing around under his fingertips. “Patience, angel. I’m gonna take care of her, promise.” Just as he promises, he pushes a finger deep inside you. You’re moan matches, slightly drawn out and slightly wobbly. Just as you suspected, his hands are huge. His fingers are thick and long. One hand could probably cover the majority of your torso. Having them sink so deeply into you is making you delirious.

“Well shit,” he massages your hip. His eyes are trained on your pussy. He’s entranced with the act of it, with his fingers drawing out more and more juices, with your pleas and pleasurable noises above his head. “You’re soaked.” It doesn’t take long for him to work you up to two fingers, slotting it next to the other.

You’re practically dripping down herself, grip tightening on his shoulders. You’re appreciative of his continuous grip on your leg because if it were your way, you wouldn’t be able to stand still. Not when he was constantly brushing against that spot you could barely reach yourself. “Oh my god, ‘Bie. There!” Your body falls forward, barely being held up when he continues to drill into you.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. Rather, he’s slouching underneath your body, tongue latching onto your clit. His eyes are barely lidded at the first taste. He swears you taste like a summer day, of strawberries and whip cream. He could spend all night here, drinking you in. It’s like his ears are stuffed with cotton. He can’t hear you. He can’t even hear himself moaning against your skin.

Hobie pulls his fingers out of you, ignoring your dissatisfied whines. In his right mind, he would have shushed you with gentle kisses and reassurance but he couldn’t form the words to. One taste got him pussydrunk and now he couldn’t stop.

Hobie scoots back onto your bed, clawing at your body to maintain the proximity. His eyes are wild and he doesn’t say a single thing. It’s obvious what he wants, though, when he lays back and yanks you on top of him. You shriek in surprise, nearly falling over his body. He has you situated, facing the growing tent in his pants.

“A warning would have been a little helpful.” You speak as if trying to lighten the mood, not realizing just how far gone Hobie really was. He only grunts in response and relocates your hips back over his face. One small taste is not enough. He was determined to get more out of you, as much as he wants. His arms hook you into places before he absolutely dives in.

And he was messy with it.

Hobie didn’t care if there was spit everywhere. He didn’t care if he drowns in it. In fact, he would love to. His tongue licks a fat stripe on your cunt. He can cum in his pants from the taste and your own moans. This is where he is meant to be, he’s sure of it. He’s only been here for a few minutes, seconds maybe, but he’s never felt more right.

He tongue probs around your entrance, experimentally. You gasp with a shaky breath, clenching the sheets. It encourages him to follow through, slurping and tongue fucking you. His vice grip keeps you settled. With how much you were squirming, you would have moved off or too far by now.

“Fucking- gonna-!” You can’t form your mouth around your words. Your brain is fuzzy with the intense bliss building in your core. You’re nearly ready to burst when Hobie begins rapid small circles on your bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, hair whipping free and falling all in his face but that’s the least of his worries. Not when you unintentionally push your hips down, allowing his tongue to push deeper and his fingers to pull more.

With one final nudge of his tongue and jerk of his fingers, you’re creaming all over his face. He’s grateful to lap it up, allowing you to ride through your high. He removes his fingers from what he’s sure is your now sensitive clit and his hands take their place on your hips. You shudder, and despite his wishes, eventually pry his hands off you. “I can’t.” You drag your body off his. Your chest heaves as you get comfortable on your back. You can still feel your cunny throbbing but she’s in no shape to be touched right now. “Too sensitive.”

If Hobie’s face says one thing, it’s that he’s displeased. He rolls over and looms over you, staring you down. His locs fall in his face but he doesn’t look bothered by it. He’s too busy hooking an arm under yours and moving you closer to the headboard. “Nah. I think you got a few more in you.”

Your eyes flash as he lifts you with ease. “Yeah, in a second.” You’re already ready to push him back, glare on deck. Before he even lets go of your side, he’s forced your hands to the headboard and webbed them in place.

“Can’t trust you to sit still and let me work.” Hobie hurriedly pecks your lips. “Won’t be too long so don’t be too mad at me.” He flashes you a smile as he retreats. You think he’s going to leave you until he begins his dance of removing his spidersuit. The stretchy material peels right off him and he’s back between your legs, resting on his shoulders.

Hobie doesn’t bother looking at you. He’s smiling at your cunny, just as glistening as when he left him. “Can’t believe you tried to keep me away from her. Just look at how much she missed me?” He plunges his finger inside you again, only to scoop up some of your cum and drag it out. “Breaking my heart, ☆.”

Your legs nearly close, leg’s drawing together at the knees. He draws out a mewl out of you, your body contorting in all different directions. “You’re so mean to me.” You whine, jerking even more so when Hobie delivers a slap on your pussy.

He feigns an apologetic expression, forcing your legs apart again. “I’m so mean to you? I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” He lowers his head against your skin. Like the previous time, he’s pacifying on your clit again but it’s stronger. He’s determined, gaining momentum and pumping his tongue in your slit. You can’t help but tighten around his tongue, back arching against the wood. Was his tongue extra long or were you unable to maintain your composure?

Hobie is understanding, though. He takes it upon himself to keep you where he wants you. Despite your squirming and pushing, he pushes down on your stomach. With full access, he slurps and suckles. It’s an endless stream coming from your heavenly pussy and that’s just how he likes it. Hobie drinks it all in as if he was a starved man.

He pushes your legs wider, farther, curling and compacting your body. He folds you until your knees are nearly touching your ears. You swear you can feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your toes at this point. You’re tugging at the makeshift restraints. “Ohhh my god,” your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your throat when he strikes just the right spot, still spongy from your last orgasm.

Hobie peeks up at you, smirking into your folds. You’re just as pretty as he imagined. Prettier. Even with your eyes screwed closed and your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat.

You tug your hands again, straining to touch him. “Don’t stop! Please, please, please,” you chant. Your own nails dig into your skin, acrylics scratching the surface. The burn is a distant thought. “Let me touch you. I need – I need to touch you.”

Hobie messily kisses your slit when your essence leaks out and smears across your thighs. “Cum and I’ll think about it.”

His bruising grip on your hip keeps your lower body still. Despite his somewhat lanky frame, he’s still adorned with the basic spider-man muscles. Not to mention his habits kept him fit with all the swinging through the city and climbing on walls he does.

Your only surface to find purchase in is your headboard. Your nails scratch the wood and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but it’s the last thing in your mind. Not when hobie is alternating between his tongue and his fingers. He’s bumping against your clit strategically. Your body is fighting against his strength, wanting to arch and wriggle.

You press your head harder into the hard surface behind you, grateful for your hair acting as a pillow. Your toes begin to curl and once again, your legs are attempting to force their way together.

Hobie only forces them open farther. He displays his displeasure by wrapping his lips around your clit. He’s watching you through his eyelashes, growing more irritated with each squirm. You’re moving too much and it’s making it harder for him.

You don’t notice, not when you’re gasping for air. You draw in one big breath, the release prompting the synchronized release of your cum. Your chest is heaving, brushing against tbe tops go your thighs. Your body shakes and shudders at his relentless to fuck you through it.

“You’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be,” Hobie rises from his position between your legs. He kneels in front of your and languidly strokes his fingers inside you. It’s not enough pressure or movement to draw anything out of you but he can’t help it, can’t stop. “Sit still.”

The waterline of your eyes are just barely teary. You sniff, twisting your wrists under the webs. “I can’t. Tried to tell you. You didn’t listen.” You resist a pout by pressing your lips together. “Can you let my hands out now?”

It’s as if he didn’t hear you when he leans forward and kisses the corner of your lips. Hobie’s weight shifts underneath you and your question goes unanswered. You’re committing to your pout, eyes narrowing. “Hello? Are you gonna or what?”

Hobie pauses. His eyes are locked onto yours with his head tilted as if to say are you sure about that? “You makin’ demands now?” He pulls his raging dick out of his boxers. Too nervous to, you don’t let your gaze wander downwards. Still, you can tell his mushroom tip is puffy and leaking down his shaft. He may not have the girthiest dick but it’s long and swollen, craving your tight little cunt.

Your mouth slightly drops open when he rubs it through your folds. You’re silent and pliant, maybe out of nervousness for the situation you found yourself in. Of course he takes advantage of this.

“Hm? You tellin’ me what to do?” He reiterates his question, just barely pushing his tip back inside you, only to slip it out when you mewl. He isn’t surprised when you don’t answer. He’s already moving your legs farther down. He’s hungrily watching the way your pussy envelopes and welcomes him in. “Fuck, baby. You’re tighter than I imagined.” Even after him working you soft, you’re still just as flesh against him.

He can feel your walls spasm when he give an experimentally shallow thrust. You reel, falling nearly limp just from how deep he is. The position, the mating press he has you in gives him direct access to the deepest parts of you. Hobie doesn’t have to try too hard to reach your g-spot, just shy of hitting your cervix.

He massages the backs of your thighs, smugly taking in this vulnerable side about you. “How can I let you out if you can’t even take this. Can’t have you fighting me.”

Even in his best dreams, he didn’t think you’d feel this good. Didn’t think he’d be balls deep in his favorite girl Halloween night. Hr breathes sharply, eyes closing to truly focus on his pleasure. The small amount of sanity and restraint he’s been holding on to all night is slipping out of his reach, especially when he begins slow thrusts into you. You can’t move, not even if you wanted to. Not when he has you caged in, limiting your movement.

His hips stutter the first time you clock around him. “Fuck,” Hobie clenches his teeth. His tidy nails create little crescents in your skin. If he could push you into the mattress more, he would have. He needed to be so deep inside you that your bodies had no choice but to fuse together. He wants your body to remember his, to remember the shape of his cock, to maintain is so he can come back to soften you into putty again.

“Stop tryin’ to push me away.” Hobie spits out. He can feel your legs pushing against his hands and he hates it. It only makes him tighten his grip until he’s sure you’ll forever has his handprints there.

“Too much!” You hiccup. Tears fall over your cheeks as his pace picks up. He’s nonstop nudging your cervix, going way deeper than your last fuck months ago. You could just explode, pulling and pushing to find a position to alleviate the pressure but no matter where you go, Hobie is everywhere.

He doesn’t know where to focus. Your face, your tits, the spot where you were connected. His senses are overwhelmed. “Can’t be. I’m barely doing anything.” He’s vigorously plowing into you. The slap of skin between your bodies is an absolute symphony to him.

Your moans beg to differ, booming in the air of your room. The possibility of your neighbors hearing you is a distant thought. You couldn’t give a shit about them and their discomfort. They haven’t had the sexiest man alive fuck them into insanity.

You also don’t have to tell him you’re on the brink of release, not when you’re damn near cutting his dick in half. He’s forced to still, much to his displeasure. “Poor little thing.” Hobie fakes his pity. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “Look at me when I make you cum.” He demands, waiting until he’s certain your eyes are trained on him to dribble spit on your soaking cunt.

His thumb follows, easily gliding rapid ministrations across it. It’s all over the place, his thighs and yours. The smell of your sex feels the air. He’s intoxicated.

Your eyes are barely open but you’re doing your best. Your heartbeat races as you wind up tighter. Your mouth drops open but you can’t speak. Can’t say a thing. It’s all too paralyzing. The only sound you can make are hums of encouragement until one final thrust pushes you over the edge.

You convulse, a water stream comes flushing out your cunny. The webs over your wrist are the only thing that keeps you from clinging onto his chest when you jerk forward.

It comes so quickly, Hobie is yanking his cock out of you. He hovers over your body, furiously fisting it until ropes of his own cum flies out and decorates your chest. He’s out of breath, expectantly. It took all of his efforts to devour you as he really wanted.

You’re just as exhausted, lying limp and silent. At some point, your legs are softly placed back on the mattress and he removes the sticky web keeping you in place.

In an ideal world, he’d do it again but there’s no way you can handle it. He reckons he’s already pushed you past your limit.

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” He massages your side. In contrast to his previous behavior, his hands are gentle. They soothe the dim ache settling into your muscles. “There you go. Come back to me.”

Hobie waits until you’re settled, waits until you’re smiling weakly. “Where’s your towels at?” His limited view from your window never showed him your linen closet. All he knows is that it’s somewhere in the hallway.

You shake your head and push yourself into seating. “I’d rather just shower.” You say. Your face contorts for a second at the feelings of your legs recovering from that punishing stretch. You don’t even have a moment to react before Hobie is grabbing at you again.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I help you?” His hands are at your waist again. You quizzically stare at him while he fusses over your frame. It’s not like it changes anything. He know what he did to you.

“No, no I’m just but . . . how do you know my name. Or where I was today?” Flashbacks of your conversation play through your head. You suddenly feel gross with the possibility that you just fucked a creep despite said creep being extremely attractive.

Hobie pressed his lips together. He tilts his head away while his eyes bounce off your white walls. He pushes his locs out of his eyes, seeming to weigh his words. “Well, mm, ever since we met that one time, you’re just everywhere I go.” He’s totally lying and he knows that but you don’t need to. If he told you the truth, you’d probably beat his ass in.

“What?”

He peeks over at you before becoming super interested in the fabric of your pink sheets. “Yeah. You don’t notice but I run into you a lot and your friends are kinda loud, y’know?” He picks off a piece of lint. “So I just caught it one day, I guess. ‘Nd like I said, I was patrolling the area. Saw you come out.” His story sounds bad, oddly strung together. He knows. But he also knows you’re a bit dumb, a bit too trusting. You let him in your apartment to pee, for christ’s sake.

“Oh,” you nod. Just as expected, you believe him. At least enough to let it go and ignore what concern you may feel. “And you did this because? I mean, you don’t do this with everyone you just meet do you?”

In your defense, you are just a civilian. You live a somewhat normal life. This sounds like a completely reasonable explanation, although you are hyper aware of the fact that you were are it naked. It bothers you that Hobie doesn’t care.

He’s lax, rubbing the silk cloth between his fingers. The corners of his mouth are upturned and you have to fight the urge to ask him what’s funny. “No. Just you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone else. Thought that was pretty obvious.”

You suppose it could be, though it doesn’t make sense to you. Maybe you aren’t sure how to wrap your head around the situation. So you don’t say anything in return. You just hum and nod because what were you supposed to say? This isn’t an everyday occurrence and you certainly weren’t expecting Spider Punk himself, tonight.

“Listen,” Hobie starts, “this is a lot, I know. Weren’t expecting it or whatever but at some point, you’re gonna miss me.” He grins all wide and smug. He is smug. He knows the impression he left behind. He knows what you like, what gets you going. You’ll miss him. “All I’m going to do is leave my number here, ‘kay? It’s completely up to you.”

You don’t like his arrogance. You don’t like it even more when he stands and strides right up to your nightstand. As he scribbles his number on your stack of sticky notes, you swear to yourself that you’re gonna throw it away. He’s too confident your your liking, too sure of himself. It’s almost as if he knows you’re not gonna get the memory of him plowing into you in a few weeks.

Not to his surprise, you don’t. It only takes him a few days before he’s hearing from you again, all hesitant and precious when you invite him over. And of course, he goes. Who was he to deny your right? Especially when the day he first laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted you.

[majaloveschris]

Hey Maja! I hope you’re doing great!

So I sent this to @nothingtoseehereandthere but I wanted to share with you too, because I value your input🥰 and I really hope you see this and share your thoughts.

Can I add something about this new brown coat white shoes talk?

So that blog and the anons on there are speculating that Alba was on set of ghosted with that brown coat. Okay. So the only pics they have of Alba with a brown coat is on set. On set that she wore for a character. So that coat belongs to the wardrobe department. Does that blog and their anons really believe that Alba then took that coat with her as a "souvenir" and later wore it on set of ghosted while visiting?

If an actor/actress ever wants to or ends up taking something of their character's from a film set production, it's not going to be a mundane everyday item, like an easily accessible coat that can be bought from a store.

For example-

When Chris played Captain America, he didn't end up taking Steve's baseball cap or glasses used for disguise. Chris said he took the whole Cap costume and shield.

Just some food for thought.

ALSO something to add- some cast members of Harry Potter wanted to take their wands and they weren’t allowed to. So it’s not that easy for actors to just take anything.

Hi, thanks for your input! I didn't plan to talk about this whole coat debate, but I also want to share a few thoughts and why I think it's not her.

I'm not so sure if it belongs to her character. I didn't see the movie, so I don't know if her character wore a coat like that or not. Obviously, if it's not hers, she clearly didn't take it home with herself. And I also agree that she wouldn't take something so simple from the set; it's just a coat, nothing interesting, or nothing she can't buy.

However, to me, that woman's coat looks different than Alba's. I think the one Alba is wearing looks darker; maybe it's because of the filter, but still. There are buttons on Alba's, while I don't see any on the woman's.

I also don't think the shoes look exactly the same. Alba's has a thicker sole. And you can clearly see that the woman in the Dodger picture has bigger feet than Alba. So the shoe size also doesn't match.

And most importantly, you can clearly see that the woman in the Dodger picture is way taller than Alba and has a completely different body shape.

It's not her. And it's really tiring that people think every single woman is her. She isn't the only woman around Chris, especially when he is working. Not everything is about her, but a lot of people make it out to be.

Thanks @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory for the pictures! ❤️

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else?  You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity- 

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

[unokins]

No Truth Left - part 3

CW: Violence, body malformation

Link to Archive

Not even a second of deliberation and Chie ran for the caves. The collapsing house was a certain dead end. At least she could hope for safety in the twisting tunnels. Her lungs burned and legs ached as she stumbled past the cave's mouth.

A jutting rock caught her foot. Chie fell with a hard thud, hands scraping on the black stone. The squelching pattering and inhuman grunting grew louder. 

The ground in front of her dropped away to a steep, almost vertical slope. Darkness veiled the descent. If she jumped and broke her leg- or worse, her back- Chie glanced behind her, and a thick shadow stretched across the ground outside. 

"Oh God, oh God." Chie pulled herself behind a box, drawing her knees up. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears, as if that would protect her.

It's following your footprints. The masculine derision rang in her ears and Chie's eyes snapped open. Who kept talking!?

No one else hid nearby, but the mud from her shoes stamped the ground, advertising her position like a giant, pointing arrow. The stench of rotting fish rolled off the figure as it approached. 

Even if you ran deeper into the caves, it'll follow. It knows your smell.

"Please, help me," Chie tried to say but the words stuck in her throat. All that escaped was a feeble whimper. Tears stung her eyes. She was going to die.

If we want to survive, you need to act. See that bottle? To your left?

Chie's head twitched, eyes alighting on an empty beer bottle. Its bottom had broken off in jagged pieces. Slowly, she nodded.

Pick it up by the neck. And get ready.

"I- I can't." Fear gripped Chie with icy fingers, nails digging into her muscles and freezing her to the spot. Her arm twitched uselessly.

Foreign frustration hit her like a sucker punch. Chie squirmed against it. If you don't fight back, the best you can hope for is a quick death. The voice growled animalistically, words reverberating in Chie's head. And I'm not letting your ineptitude kill me. Now pick up the fucking bottle. And get. Ready.

The shock of the rage, of feeling it like a writhing parasite from within, jolted Chie into grabbing the bottle and lifting it up, holding it awkwardly like a club. The alien emotion faded, leaving Chie with her own fear.

There you go, it purred sardonically. When I say go, jump up and attack it.

"How? What do I-" A foot slapped down in front of Chie.

It didn't look like something out of a horror movie. The horror movies she watched with her roommate didn't come close to capturing the grotesque- had never elicited such a visceral fear response from her. 

The foot was bloated like a corpse's, mottled blue and green scales bulging at irregular intervals. The skin under was a ghastly gray, dark purple veins threading across it. Instead of nails, chipped, black claws adorned the webbed foot and scraped the ground. As the thing shifted its weight, water oozed from between the cloudy scales like puss.

Go!

She forgot how to breathe, couldn’t pull her eyes from the horrific foot. Even as it loomed over her. Closer. A long, webbed hand reached for her.

Damn you, girl!

Chie's legs reacted without her. Her knees snapped straight, rocketing her up. Gripping the bottle tight, she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as she swung it. Shattering glass filled her ears, echoing through the cave, and the creature screeched in pain. A crack, a thump. Chie stood there, arm raised, entire body shaking. She gripped the broken bottle like a drowning woman held a piece of driftwood. Something wet dripped down her arm.

You need to open your eyes.

"Just-" hoarse, caught in her throat. Chie coughed. "Just tell me what happened."

I can't if your eyes are closed.

That made no sense. Chie didn't move.

Open your eyes now. Whoever was talking was losing their patience. And try not to faint.

Chie opened one eye a fraction of an inch and immediately turned her back to the creature, head spinning. "Oh my god, oh my god." Her body shook uncontrollably. "What is that? What- what's-"

A nice hit. Think you got it across the jaw.

Staggering to the crate, Chie placed the broken bottle on top and sank to the ground, back to the monster. She gripped her arms, trying to stop the shaking. Black stone. Mundane. Normal. She stared at it blankly, ignoring the purple blood that stained her hand. Breathe. Breathe. Calm down.

What are you doing? Move.

"I-" Chie clamped her mouth shut and swallowed. "I don't know- I mean." She took another breath. "Who are you? And where are you? I-"

One thing at a time. The voice stopped yelling, at least. I only remember two things about myself. My name is Maverick Hunter, and I'm being chased.

"By who? Or... what?"

I just told you. That perpetual annoyance seeped into the words. That's all I know. Can't tell you who or why.

“Sure.” Calmer now, Chie stood and turned to search the cavern, purposefully avoiding the fish-like thing lying on the ground. "So where are you?"

I'm in your head.

"Excuse me." That was ridiculous. Telepathy, seriously? Was this an elaborate prank? Was some LARPer wearing a super realistic fish costume? Chie scoured the cave for hidden cameras. 

I was attacked by whoever is chasing me. When I came to, I was looking out from your body and your eyes.

"This is insane," Chie said, hand to her forehead. "I'm going- I've had a breakdown. That's it." She didn't think she had a family history of Schizoaffective disorder, but work had been super busy lately and combined with the memory loss, maybe she just needed a good psychiatrist and some medical leave.

You're not crazy. You can't explain what's lying on the ground with crazy.

Chie's weak excuses soured in her stomach. 

"I'm leaving," she said, shaking her head as if to clear the voice from her. "It was not nice meeting you, Maverick."

Chie took one step forward and froze. The feeling in her legs vanished and she was numb from the waist down. Her legs shook, muscles expending extraneous effort. But try as she might, Chie could not move forward.

Now you listen to me, you stupid little bitch. Maverick's voice was low, straining, and hinted towards boiling anger. I have come too far for you to turn back now. I may not have the energy to control you fully right now, but I sure as fuck can stop you.

Chie strained her back, forcing herself to move. Her shoulders twisted and her arms reached forward, but her legs remained petrified. "Why can't I move?!"

Because I'm here! Stuck inside your weak little body, and it's time you accept that. Now do as I say, or I'm going to hold you here until that thing wakes up. And whatever horror you're subjected to? I will happily watch. 

"How are you- Why are you-?!" Chie cried. This was impossible. This was impossible! 

Because I need to know why I'm like this, why I'm being pursued. And as long as we're stuck together? They're after you by association. Your friends. Your family.

Chie flinched. Who were these people to do this? She- this couldn't be real. She couldn't-

The monster on the floor gurgled. Chie's resolve faltered.

Maverick was gentler when he spoke next. We can't afford to turn back. There are answers here we need to find. Okay?

Chie nodded numbly. "Okay. Okay- I- I can. I can do this." Like a rubber band snapping, Chie's legs jolted. She fell forward, twisting to regain her balance. The thought of falling on that thing was horrendous. 

Maverick sighed, energy spent. Go through the crates over there. 

Why, Chie wondered, did a disembodied voice need to sigh? Thoughts whirled together incoherently but Maverick was right: unexplainable things were happening to her. They needed answers.

She removed the crate's lid and dug around inside. Flashlight, rope, beer, snacks, pocket knife, a small backpack, more beer. What kind of person had bagged cookies and peanuts but no water?

Oh, that's perfect! Maverick's glee when Chie picked up a large army knife was worrisome. She set it aside as she filled the backpack with food and supplies. Once done, she slid it free from the sheath, and held it up for Maverick.

Okay, take that knife and kill the fish monster.

"Excuse me?!"

It's the only one that knows we're here. Killing it will buy us time until the others-

"There are more?!"

-find its body. If it's alive- Maverick's voice grew low again, and Chie could almost feel hands on her shoulders as if he held her still. -it won't be long before it warns the others and the Devil's Reef is swarming with them. I won't tell you again. Kill it.

Chie couldn't bring herself to look at it. And Maverick expected her to kill it? She had sobbed when she accidentally ran over a squirrel last year. To deliberately kill a living thing? One that was unconscious? Even if it had attacked her-

Chie. Maverick said sharply. 

>Kill it >Spare it

[thegirlwhomoanedwolf]

Truth or dare

(Halloween party truth or dare)

*reader has plot of Elena

Damon x Reader

Warnings: 18+, slightly rough

It had been months...

months since (y/n) had been touched by a man. Her last intimate moment had been a gentle kiss with the person she swore she would never willingly touch. But things change and she would have never forgiven herself if she let Damon die without showing him how much she cared. She was prepared to grieve the man who had gotten under her skin, against her best efforts. She had realized a part of her would die with him.

Along with that part would be the guilt she carried. The way she would get excited when he would walk into a room. The sick feeling knowing she could easily have him if she just asked and how sometimes she fantasized about what he would do to her when she finally gave in. That didn’t compare to the worst of her crimes. There were times she had made sure Damon would hear her moans and cries as Stefan thrusted into her.

“Please harder,” she would beg her voice echoing throughout the boarding house. Always one to please Stefan did as he was asked. He didn’t care if Damon heard. He wanted him to know (y/n) was his and that he would never be able to experience the heaven that was being inside of her. If only he had known she screamed and begged hoping his brother was listening. Sometimes she even imagined Damon with flushed cheeks, his need for her burning through him like a fire he couldn’t put out. She would imagine him with his head thrown back and his eyes shut tightly as he stroked himself pretending he was the one responsible for her pleasure.

She would shriek “ Oh my god, please, I’m gonna cum,” when her fantasy had gotten her to her peak and even louder and raspier “ I want you to cum with me!” Her (y/e/c) eyes would slam shut as she thought of Damon stroking his cock faster and being pushed over the edge with her. Self hatred would wash over her afterwards knowing she betrayed Stefan but no one but her would ever know.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but feel some relief knowing the man she truly wanted could no longer plague her relationship or mind. Though as soon as her mirror image walked into his room with with a crimson colored bottle that was the cure, (y/n) felt more relived then she ever had in her life. That relief soon ended when Katherine happily announced that Stefan had given himself to Klaus to save his brother.

................................................

It was a cool fall day in Mystic falls. Four months after stefan left and made it clear he was not coming back. Damon Salvatore sat on his leather sofa reading from dust returned by ray Bradbury getting himself thoroughly into the fall spirit. His favorite time of year. The sound of the crackling fire place and smell of leaves falling outside was the perfect combination for relaxation.

“ Damon! Why aren’t you answering my calls I’ve been trying to reach you for hours?,” Carloline Forbes voice boomed, the door slamming shut behind her.

He looked at her pointedly “ Well maybe I put my phone on silent so I could have a relaxing day without someone needing my help for a mundane task any human could fufill.”

Caroline huffed, “ this is a big deal Damon, Tyler’s mom has the flu so now we don’t have a place for our yearly friend-o- ween party!”

Damon Laughed, “ friend-o-ween? That’s the best you guys could come up with?”

“ We made it up in middle school and it’s cute!,” she argued. “ please Damon no one else can have it at their house.”

He sighed “ fine.”

Caroline shrieked and jumped “yay! I’ll go get all the decorations!”

.................................................

What was supposed to be a relaxing day turned into hours of assisting Caroline in decorating the boarding house until it looked like something out of a movie. The lighting was dim. Orange and purple lights were strung throughout the house giving it a spooky yet enchanting glow. There were real pumpkins, fake pumpkins, spider webs, skeletons and other spooky decorations. It really was overkill but he did have to admit he enjoyed the finished result.

They stood finally finished Caroline grinning. “ This looks amazing. Oh! I forgot about the food! I’ll have Matt bring the snacks by before everyone else gets here. I have to start getting ready. I’m running behind! You better have a costume Damon!” She said so quickly it’d be hard to understand if he wasn’t supernatural. She left slamming the door behind her.

With an hour to go Damon walked upstairs deciding to take a shower before the party. He stripped his clothes and turned the shower on high heat enjoying the steam that filled up his large room. He decided he would just splash some fake blood on himself as a costume and his mind began to wander to (y/n) wondering what she might wear. He liked her sexy nurse costume but it probably had too many negative emotions attached to it after the last time she wore it. Damon felt guilty over what had happened but all he could think about right now was how badly he had wanted her that night. He could have thrown her in a school bus and fucked her for hours he had been so worked up from her anger towards him. His cock got hard at the thought and he moved his hand down his chiseled wet abs and gripped it.

He started to stroke it thinking of what he normally did, memories of (y/n) moaning and cumming. He should feel ashamed or grossed out by the fact it was because his brother was fucking her but he didn’t care. He could easily remember those sounds and pretend they were caused by him. He stroked himself even faster imagining the school bus fantasy. His arm supported him against the glass wall as the other twisted and began to stroke himself faster. He was so close he was going to

“Damon!,” Matt’s voice yelled from downstairs and Damon had never wanted to kill Matt more than in that moment. He lost the coiling feeling in his abdomen and shut the water off quickly. Pissed he quickly threw on pants and a white v neck.

Once downstairs he helped Matt set out all of the food besides the pizzas Caroline was ordering. If only he had showed up one minute later, Damon thought still extremely frustrated. He splattered some fake blood on his white shirt and face. Then put Caroline’s cheesy Halloween music on that she said he HAD to play.

The door opened and he got excited hoping it was (y/n) but to his disappointment blondie appeared with Tyler and witchy. Bonnie wore a black latex bodysuit with cat ears and Caroline was wearing a black lingerie nighty with animal ears as well. “ I see you decide to go as a slutty hamster,” he joked confused by her outfit.

“ I’m a mouse duh,” she said pointing to her ears the reference lost on him.

Bonnie looked at Tyler in his football jersey and Damon in “ blood” splattered . “ I see you two put in a lot of effort,” she joked.

“ if you want me to take it all off all you had to do was ask bon bon,” Damon joked back as she rolled her eyes.

Everyone moved to the kitchen snacking on chips and soda waiting for the pizza to arrive while Damon anxiously waited for (y/n) . The pizza delivery guy arrived before her much to his dismay and Caroline seeing the look on his face added “ It’ll be worth the wait Damon,” as she smiled. He ignored her not knowing what she meant and poured himself a bourbon as they all sat around eating pizza. When the door finally opened Jeremy came in first wearing a black hoodie as usual (y/n) following behind him.

Damon’s eyes bulged and he tried to stop another area from doing the same as he saw her costume. She was dressed like a playboy bunny and it was the least clothed he had ever seen her. Now he really was hating Matt because tonight was going to be torture until he could relieve himself.

.....................................................

A few hours later they all sat in a circle on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace, filled shot glasses in front of each of them as Caroline yelled. “ Okay never have I ever, so if you have take a shot! Also no lying.” “ I’ll go first! Never have I ever had a one night stand.” Damon and Tyler took a shot.

Bonnie went next, “ never have I ever kissed a girl.” Everyone took a shot besides Bonnie and learning this new fact about (y/n) was making it even harder on him. Especially since he was trying not to stare all night as is.

Tyler went next “ never have I ever slept with Damon Salvatore,” laughing as Caroline hit him and took a shot.

Matt went next following Tyler’s lead , “ never have I ever fantasized about Damon Salvatore.” Also looking at Caroline. She took a shot.

“ Wow I’m hurt Matt,” Damon joked and noticed out of the corner of his eye (y/n) taking a shot too. He thought he could explode right then. He clapped his hands getting everyone’s attention . “Alright this is dumb, lets do truth or dare, you know there’s nothing I won’t do.” He winked. Since it’s my turn I’ll go first he turned to (y/n) whose heartbeat immediately increased.

“ (y/n) ,” he said slowly. “ truth or dare?”

She figured he saw that she had taken a shot for fantasizing about him and knew he would probably ask about that so in this case dare was the safe option. “ dare.”

Damon smirked, “ I dare you to tell me what you fantasized about me doing.” Her face went red.

“ That’s not how it works Damon it has to be an actual dare,” Bonnie said trying to cock block him like usual.

“ Fine,” he looked at (y/n) who was still flushed “ Then I dare you to kiss Caroline.”

(Y/n) crawled over to Caroline on her hands and knees seductively. Her pink body suit showing off her ass with a cute little bunny tail on it. She sat in front of her moving her blonde curled hair behind her ear and passionately kissed her. Caroline wrapped her hands into (y/n)s hair as they moaned into each other mouths. They pulled away laughing and at this point all the men were slightly hard. (Y/n) crawled back to her spot next to Damon and glared at him. Worried what his dare would be after that so he picked truth.

She acted like she was thinking it over “ have you ever jerked off while thinking about me Damon?” She asked trying to embarrass him, making everyone but Caroline slightly uncomfortable. Only because she knew (y/n) and Damon just needed to bang it out already.

He kept eye contact, “ right before everyone got here I was thinking about you in your sexy little nurse costume. Oh by the way Matt thanks for interrupting right as I was about to cum.”

His answer was followed by a few ewww’s and Jeremy, Bonnie and Matt deciding it was time to go. Now it was Caroline’s turn and she was playing matchmaker “ (y/n) truth or dare,”

“ truth,” she responded nervous yet excited.

“ what is your naughtiest fantasy of Damon?”

(Y/n) froze debating on lying but new the supernaturals would easily be able to tell. Looking down ashamed she responded quietly, “ that he would jerk off while hearing stefan and I ... well you know.”

Damon couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t always stefan after all. Had she wanted him the entire time? Did this mean she was purposefully being loud? Was she always thinking about him when her and his baby bro did the deed?

Tyler interrupted his thoughts. “ Caroline truth or dare ?” He said quickly trying to move things away from (y/n) who was obviously embarrassed.

Caroline’s face lit up, “dare.”

“ I dare you to kiss me.” Caroline moved over to him getting into his lap kissing him their bodies pressing close together as Damon and (y/n) looked at each other awkwardly. Caroline let out a small moan and Damon coughed loudly trying to remind them they weren’t alone.

Feeling turned on from so many of the events that happened today and now knowing how long (y/n) had been wanting him physically Damon looked over to her yet again. “ truth or dare ?”

Her face was flushed from Tyler and Caroline’s show of affection and it reminded her how badly she needed intimacy. Damon was sexy all the time but now with his tousled hair and blood spattered shirt he looked rough and it was making her think about all the times he had gotten bloody to save her. How strong and rough he actually was. She wanted to be closer to him she hoped choosing dare would grant that wish. “Dare.”

He patted his lap “ come sit.” She crawled over to him and took a seat in his lap her back facing his chest and his arms wrapped around her tightly. She could feel the buldge underneath his Jeans and her core tightned feeling him pressed against her. He ran his nose along the inside of her neck and whispered “ your turn.”

She responded the need for him finally taking over. “ truth or dare Damon” she said in a husky tone her face turned towards him looking into his eyes, her need evident.

“ dare.”

“ kiss me,” she dared and without hesitation Damon pulled her face to his forcefully. They moaned into each other’s mouths and Damon wrapped an arm around her and the other in her hair after throwing her bunny ears off of her. Well aware of what was about to happen and in need of release themselves Caroline and Tyler snuck out unnoticed.

Damon pushed (y/n) unto her back hovering above her, their lips always connected. He pressed her body firmly into the floor grinding into her core enjoying as she bucked her hips up to meet his. He moved his mouth to her neck kissing it aggressively. “ I want you so fucking bad (y/n) ,” She trembled underneath him.

“ please Damon.” With that he sat back and ripped off her tiny pink body suit leaving her in a black bra and panty set. She sat up and kissed him pulling away to lift his shirt over his head. He picked her up easily sitting her on the leather couch closer to the lit fireplace. He stood in front of her and she fumbled slightly trying to get his pants off as quick as she could. Her eyes widened when she unzipped his black jeans and realized he was going commando and he was BIG. His large erection sprung out of his pants standing proudly in front of her face. He stepped out of his pants and was going to resume undressing (y/n) but that thought was forgotten about when she wrapped her hand around him and did and experimental tug.

She looked up at him her (y/e/c) eyes meeting his blue as she stuck her tongue out and slowly licked his tip a few times before wrapping her lips around him completely.

“ fuck (y/n) ,” he moaned as she went further down on him, bobbing her head up and down on his length. She began to use her hand stroking what couldn’t fit in her mouth. Damon wrapped his hand around her throat gently pushing her off of him knowing If she continued he wouldn’t last much longer. Using his grip on her throat he pushed her back into the couch and crawled untop of her kissing her passionately. His other hand reached being her back unclasping her bra and she gasped as the cool air hit the newly exposed skin. He began to kiss down her neck his fingers traveling to play with her over her soaked panties. “ so wet.” He moaned against her neck as she began to grind into his hand.

Damon moved lower sucking her nipple into his mouth gently nibbling on it as he slipped his hand underneath her underwear making direct contact with her clit. “Please Damon, I need you inside me,” she cried desperately wanting him more than she thought was humanly possible.

He lifted his head from her breast looking down at her. The need evident in her eyes and ripped her panties off of her. Hovering over top of her he grabbed his member and and ran it along her folds watching as her wetness coated him. Looking down at her biting her lip he asked , “ are you sure you want this?”

“ I’ll always want you Damon,” she replied the sincerity clear on her face. With that Damon slowly guided his head into her. He watched her face as she slightly winced and leaned down to kiss her softly. He moved back and slowly slid farther into her. He kissed the side of her face gently trying to remind himself she hadn’t had sex in months and stefan wasn’t as well endowed as he was. Her tightness was testing his will power but he didn’t want to hurt her.

“ are you doing okay?,” he asked moving his hand down to her clit softly rubbing her knowing it would help her adjust more easily.

She moaned her eyes shut tightly the feeling of him stretching her so far. “ yes,” she lifted her hips trying to show him she wanted more , “ I want all of you Damon.” With that he pulled almost all of her heat and thrusted back in completely connecting them.

“ yes!” She cried out feeling like they were made for each other. He pulled back again and thrust in slow and deep enjoying the look of pleasure on her face. He continued his slow thrusts rolling his hips into her filling her all the way. He sat back and watched as her folds gripped him tightly. The view bringing him closer to his release. Damon sped up his pace slightly pulling out mostly than thrusting back into her using more force than before. He could feel her pussy begin to tighten around him and moved to rest his forehead against hers.

“ I want you to come for me (y/n). ” He sped up his circles on her clit and thrust into her harder and harder his abs tensing trying to hold off his orgasm.

(Y/n) began to tremble underneath him, “ I’m close!” she exclaimed. Her legs began shaking uncontrollably the pleasure like nothing she had ever experienced before.

“ me too ,” he grunted on the edge “ I want you to come with me.” He thrust again softly whispering “ come on baby, come on my cock for me.” Feeling her walls start to pulse around him.

With that she cried “ yes! I’m cumming, Damon yes!”

“ Fuck (y/n) ,” he growled, her walls gripping him harder pulling his orgasm from him as he continued to move inside of her.

They lay there still connected the aftershocks traveling through their bodies. He kissed her before slowly pulling out and rolling off the couch onto the soft carpet in front of the fire place. He patted next to him. “ join me?”

She slowly moved beside him her muscles already sore from her incredible orgasm. He played with her hair as she asked him “ truth or dare?”

“ truth,” he responded not questioning her motive.

“ Do you love me Damon?”

“ I always have (y/n),” he paused “ do you love me?”

“ yes, I always will .” With that he brought her mouth to his sealing their love with that one special kiss.

[reversecreek]

hi it’s me... clicks across the linoleum of the dash wearing high heels w a spray tan like i’m a member of jersey shore suddenly..... best summary of willa is that she got moira rose as her #1 chara on a What Character Are You Most Like personality test out of thousands of options.... says so much. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here 😋 like this or hmu fr plots!!

* ashley moore, cis female + she/her  | you know willa deneurve, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, most of her life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to watch me by the pom poms like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sticking gold stars over old polaroids until you can barely see faces, dressing as marie antoinette at your high school prom & delivering fake laughter to a bratz doll you’re pretending is a talkshow host thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 1st, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before. they just Clicked n no-one cld believe she’d chosen him bt she was jst. completely head over heels n didn’t care what anyone had to say bc that was That

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like "i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying “dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from irving at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next? i think she’d graduate n then jst suddenly decide to move to irving in a fit of impulse. to all her college friends she’d be like “ugh a beach retreat is so necessary honestly the city is sooooooooo toxic this place cld literally enlarge my pores if i wasn’t so rigorous with my skincare routine” bt like 🤔 what u seeking girl? results pending.

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to irving little over a yr ago. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show tht filmed in one of the larger beach houses where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating irving like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unrequited flame: willa burns thru people like matches. bright n fast. honestly i feel like she struggles to take romance seriously so it cld be fun to play around with someone who’s been singed by that in the past…. mayb they hd actual feelings whereas willa was just messing around n having fun…. living la vida loca so to speak…….. we can discuss a time frame or specifics to expand upon this but. sexy angst perhaps.

those she knew from childhood: willa moved to NY at 11 n i feel like it was very sudden n soon after the accident. maybe she didn’t even say goodbye. maybe they were rly close n all of a sudden she didn’t show up to school the next day n when they rode past her house on their bike the sign said sold and that was that. honestly very dramatic of her even at a young age. we love a disappearing act. houdini who?

acting rival: honestly jst feel like this cld be funny. willa’s so dramatic she’d be like i literally want them dead they’re a despicable little gremlin fr trying to steal my spotlight. cld be as simple as having auditioned a few times fr the same parts or something.

childhood sweetheart: i think it cld be rly cute n sad if there was someone that kind of echoed the dynamic her mum n dad had except she was the celeste n they were the marlon…. (open to any gender)…….. so like. willa was always very larger than life commanding attention in a room n they were more to the sidelines but they just kind of got each other n brought out the best in one another. added angst to the fact tht willa wld maybe want to avoid them as much as possible now bc it dredges up feelings she doesn’t want to confront where her parents r concerned n also in a way any possibility of them winding up together feels like sellotaping an expiration date to both of their foreheads in willa’s brain

someone who was either a fan of or also on the reality show willa was: i imagine it like a reinvention of the hills honestly except based in these irving beach houses…. probably didn’t run that long bt there was a bunch of drama on it mostly staged…… maybe they were willa’s love interest bt it was all fake fr the cameras…… it wasn’t like. a huge deal n didn’t rly catch flight so much where popularity’s concerned bt. cld be fun to play with <3

patti frands: jogs in high knees to translate that into party friends as i adjust my spectacles. willa’s very sociable bt she’s also like kind of full of herself n obnoxious so do with that what u will. KFHGKSHGKGHFSKG. she knows hw to have a gd time tho like growing up she was rly into the gay club scene n the drag scene in NY so like. let’s hear it fr the gays who know how to do it right <3

someone equally over the top: i luv the idea of willa having someone who just like runs with made up scenarios n roles she makes up on the spot n them hanging out is like a 24/7 improv session tht they reel random surrounding strangers just fr the fun thrill

the other woman: willa is quite detached n selfish so she wld easily be the other woman in a relationship n not care about it n this cld make for good spice <3

[0ssianic]

The Thin Layer That Separates Us

Summary: In a quiet moment, Akechi slips Joker's glasses off to get a glimpse beneath the mask. (1K words) // Read on AO3

The quickest way to disguise oneself was with a wardrobe change. Taking off a jacket, putting on a hat or a pair of glasses; a small, superficial difference could transform a person entirely. 

    This was the thought that crossed Goro’s mind as he sat beside the napping leader of the Phantom Thieves.

Earlier that day, Goro found himself in the attic that doubled as a bedroom after stopping by Leblanc for a cup of coffee. Akira was working the counter and naturally, they got to chatting. Eventually, Sojiro shooed them away so they wouldn’t bother his (nonexistent) customers.

The two talked about everything and nothing at all. There was no talk of Palaces, or shadows, or the Phantom Thieves. It was strictly “normal”. Totally bland, unremarkably normal.

Afternoon turned to evening and their chat lapsed into a comfortable silence. A movie and a round of snacks later, Akira was sprawled on the couch while Goro stayed seated beside the folding table.  At some point during the movie, Akira fell asleep. Goro was effectively alone. No boisterous friends, no otherworldly cat, and the next nearest person was Sojiro, downstairs.

Goro scooted his chair closer to the couch. Propping his chin in his hands, he examined the defenseless Thief below him.

Asleep, he might have been a normal high school student. No put upon facades, no pretenses.

Except, not really. Like himself, Akira could never be just a normal high school student. Even without the mantle of the leader of the Phantom Thieves, he would never be normal, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Akira knew it, too.

After they met on GMJ’s set, Goro took it upon himself to do a little digging. He had been surprised to actually find something in the police database. A vague arrest record, a brief yet heavily censored court transcript, and a mugshot. Curiously, he hadn’t been wearing glasses back then.

But Goro had a pretty good guess as to why.

It was his way of hiding, of blending in.

Goro had briefly considered wearing glasses back when he had started to build his current image. It was an easy way to come across as cool, collected, and smart. In the end, he decided against, but here was Akira using them as part of his own costume. Look at me, they said, I’m a good student, promise.

But they weren’t fooling him.

Goro tilted his head, considering the other boy. With both hands, he carefully plucked the glasses off Akira’s face.

The absence made quite the difference. It took away the last of his crafted persona of a quiet and studious student, someone who flew below the radar. There was no trace of the suave, cool Leader, either. Just a gangly teenage boy sprawled across his couch, oblivious to the world.

Goro sat back in his chair, turning the glasses over in his hands. He only ever saw Akira without them in the Metaverse. But that didn’t really count. There, a literal mask replaced the symbolic one.

On an impulse, Goro slipped the glasses on. The room stayed clear. Plain glass, just as he thought. Just a part of the costume. Goro tilted his head this way and that, feeling out the new weight on his ears and nose.

There was nothing special about them, just glass and plastic. Yet, he felt different. With the glasses on, a new barrier had been erected between him and the world. It was a surprisingly familiar sensation. Like his gloves, the glasses were a physical layer that separated him from the world.

Goro pulled out his phone and turned on the camera. He turned his head from side to side, inspecting himself. The frames were large enough to cover his cheekbones while disappearing under his bangs.

He almost looked like a different person. He was sure that was why Akira decided to wear them. The glasses marked a clean break between the boy from the arrest and who he was trying to be here in Tokyo. With the glasses, Goro could be a different person, too.

It was a titillating feeling. Stealing a look behind Akira’s disguise and borrowing it for a bit. Experiencing all the possibilities of who he could be. Is this how Akira felt after every successful shadow negotiation?

And the feeling of being able to slip by, right beneath everyone’s noses, was exciting, too.

     Hiding in plain sight itself was nothing new to Goro. For years, he twisted society’s expectations of the Detective Prince for his own purposes. Like a magician, he distracted with one hand while performing the trick with the other.

Compared to his own mask, the glasses were a mundane choice.

Akira did the same, but in reverse. Compared to his own mask, the glasses were a mundane choice. Instead of purposefully attracting attention, he deflected it. No one would expect the quiet student to be the leader of the infamous Phantom Thieves, just like no one suspected Goro of being Shido’s hitman.

But despite his efforts to go unnoticed, Akira had gained a loyal band of thieves.

What unfair bullshit.

With every group meeting, the small sting he felt grew a little louder. With every tête-a-tête around the same table he sat at now, his own determination grew stronger.  

He wouldn’t have to put up with them for much longer. Serendipity was on his side.  His plans would soon be complete.

Goro considered himself one last time in his camera. Someone he could be. He tapped the shutter button before slipping his phone away. He turned his attention towards Akira, still sound asleep. He pulled the glasses off and gently folded the frames shut. He placed them on the edge of the table closest to the other boy.

He stood up, gathered his things, and let himself out, thanking Sojiro for the coffee on the way out.

In the end, his feelings didn’t matter. Everything was going as planned and his revenge would be one step closer to completion.

[missksj]

choose your hero!nct127

ﾐ☆ genre: punch inspired!au, video game au!, superhero au!

ﾐ☆ word count: 7k

ﾐ☆ warnings: mentions of greatest fears and nightmares, fighting, death, light smut but nothing too vivid, and sm ceo and dispatch make an appearance ew i know

ﾐ☆ author’s note: ah my first nct 127 headcanon and second creation on this site! yes i know it’s been a long time coming since punch dropped but ever since i saw the music video, this idea popped into my head. i heard of other nctzens talking about this aesthetic when mentioning the mv, but hopefully you like my take on it! please enjoy and look forward to more writing from me in the future! thank you so much! ps this is not proof read yikes sorry

Velvet clouds of psychedelic purple with the scattered rays of sunset hues made an unnatural background for the logo’s electric lettering with lightning strokes cracking the static screen in your stuffy apartment. Outside was a different matter. A thunderstorm jolted the placid crimson sky to a violet that only nature could create, although the graphic designers of PUNCH: NCT 127 came close. It was rather befitting for the stark opposition of the hurricane raging outside to the retro sparking aesthetic that you’ve witnessed for the ninth time, and it was the most pivotal. It was as if the thunder was the applause, the lightning rallying behind you, the pelting of the raindrops reverberating the hammering of your heart. Almost victorious in a way, the non-player hero that lurked in the background of the other eight paths taken would finally be the alternate hero to your player. He was a prize in the reverie that you constructed solely from his brief bio to the artificial mannerisms and quotes that he generated in the story lines which enabled you to project your fantasy on mundane men. The comparison was cruel, fictional characters were even crueler. Nimble fingers and darting eyes fell into a comfortable routine, familiar with the introduction story, it was a race between the controller’s buttons and the spiteful lightning that would sever the power.

[FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY]

[PROPERTY OF THE NCT 127 DIVISION UNDER THE SM AGENCY]

PRIORITY IDENTIFICATION 

[NAME]...F/N L/N

[ID #]...07201607

[STATUS]...Active

[CLASS]...Agent

[ALIAS]...Punch

[TEAM AFFILIATION]...N/A

Welcome to the NCT 127 Division, Agent L/N. I am Lee Soo-Man, the Director of the SM Agency and your guide for your latest mission: THE FINAL ROUND. On behalf of the whole SM community, we apologize for the abrupt summoning, but your presence and skills are crucial if we are going to defeat the DISPATCH terrorist. For too long, the person that cowers behind the mask that claims itself DISPATCH has tormented South Korea for too long, and only you can stop them. It cannot be done alone though, if you so choose to take on this responsibility, I will assign one of the nine superheroes of your picking to share this task. Do you accept it?

CLICK [YES] TO CONTINUE

CLICK [NO] TO RESTART

I am pleased that you have accepted the assignment. For the duration of the mission, the NEO ZONE will be the location of the base for you and your partner. Intel, equipment, and training will be at both of your disposals. Now that you have been briefed on all inner workings of the mission and the NEO ZONE, there is one last obstacle until you defeat the enemy. The selection of your partner is based on compatibility and trust, I implore you to consider wisely until you make a final decision. The designated superhero of your liking will be under one of two teams, FUTURE OR DREAMER. Both equally beneficial, but the bonds of loyalty run deep between the members, you have to determine which one of their morals you value more. Heed my warning though, with the right set of skills and talent,  you and your partner will be unstoppable but tread lightly your connection with him. After all, you are his only weakness. Which team and hero will you choose?

CLICK [TEAM FUTURE]

CLICK [TEAM DREAMER] 

You now have the option to choose your hero.

Before your perplexed mind could comprehend the change of dialogue, a streak of lightning had pierced the stillness of the undisturbed bedroom and released the tempest that was once contained to reality. With the abundance of consuming darkness, shards of glass pricking your paling skin, and tree branches pounding for entry--your white knuckles and twitching eyes fathomed the only connection you had with actuality; a plastic controller and the flickering avatar of your destined hero you chose only seconds before. Your heart had been thumping, not from the anticipation of a new adventure, no, it was pure fear that jolted your numbed muscles to sprint to sanctuary. The thunderstorm mocked your failed attempt at fleeing as another surge of electricity enveloped the room in white and sparks rippled at your ankles as you ran away but the tethering currents from the screen wrenched you back.

SOUL TRANSFUSION NOW COMPLETE_

Team Future

Taeil

Power: Pyrokinesis

A very vocal opponent when he’s on the battlefield, you might be on the other side of the area but you can always figure out where he is located by listening to his strange grunt/growl combos, enemies usually have to process the inhuman sound that came out of a small man but you just roll your eyes and toothy grin grows as you run to him for back up

Says “let’s get it!” any chance he gets, always attempts to make it your team chant before going on a mission but everyone votes no, even you

Loves to wear long sleeves as a staple piece of clothing despite his already burning temperature, he claims it eases him as if it were security blanket, and he enjoys when you tell him he looks adorable with his sleeved paws

During winter though, he always has to stock up on sweaters because you are always stealing them, whether it’s the feeling of his residual heat ghosting over your skin or look of complete adoration glazing over his eyes as he devours that look of yours, it’s a great excuse to wear one

If you had to assign ‘roles’ in the relationship, you would so be a top, he’s the most chill boy out there as you throw tantrums or squeal out of pure joy when you are finally promoted, it’s either purring hums out of his mouth or a silly smile as he gazes at you 

Physical affection is minimal between you two unless you initiate it, but it’s mostly wrapping his arm around you, it’s in no way conveying that he doesn’t love you, but rather love to him is experiencing moments with you, making memories while watching a funny movie or dancing horribly to a playlist he created

An exception is when you end up falling asleep on the couch as you two watch a movie, he secretly loves to carry you back to bed as he tucks you in and truly soaks in what you mean to him

His hair gradually transitioned to its current red as his powers grew throughout the years and he would always dye it but his genes overpowered any artificial color, not until you said you liked his hair like that, he decided to keep it

King of making you smile especially when you are down, he can’t stand seeing you sad so he insists on becoming a goofball until your sides hurt from laughing so hard

Takes training way too seriously, you always start off competing but by like the 100th crunch you are wiped but he’s still going 

Becomes sulky when his Disney Hades costume doesn’t come out as planned because his fire is red and not blue, but it was the best decision ever when you suggested Ghost Rider for the Halloween party, Taeil never looked better with just a leather jacket covering his bare skin

You finally convinced the clothing department to give you a fireproof uniform because Taeil has really bad aim, and your clothes are rags after a mission

Figured out you had a crush on Zuko when you were younger, so he would rewatch it with you and definitely cosplay Zuko, perhaps even role play with it if it’s something you were into

Having sex with Taeil was searing pain shooting through your thighs, tender love handles, heaving chests and lactic acid seeping through your muscles as he cheered you onto the last lap--it was a workout in itself with a sweltering room that reflected his aroused emotions

Both of you are constantly battling, whether it’s a rap battle or a cooking battle, Taeil is in love with the passionate side of you

Breakfast in bed is a tradition held during the weekends, he says he loves to spoil you but he just loves tasting his own food while you give him compliments on how delicious it is

Taeil is usually saved as a last resort for dangerous group missions, you’ve heard stories of his past battles as if he were legend already, but you’ve only witnessed his true power once by scorching down the enemy in one go, flames clawing his body as the inner glow within him exploded like he was a supernova--someone had to drag you out before the building collapsed on itself from the stifling heat and the roaring fire

You pinch his bouncy cheeks as often as possible just to see him roll his eyes while he fights off the widening smirk that makes his doe eyes curve into crescents, but it’s the blooming crimson of his cheeks that you indulge in, lightly sizzling your fingertips until you can’t take the pain any longer and yelp slips out, but Taeil swiftly swoops in and kisses your fingertips in an apology, it was a good pain though

It’s a normal night for both of you, 2 AM and your blabbering about everything and nothing, and Taeil always ends up the saying the same line to you as he coaxes you to sleep because he knows how grumpy you become in the morning, “I’m grateful we’re together, who would make you a fire if you were stranded on a deserted island? You definitely can’t, so, hmm, I guess it has to be me”

Johnny

Power: Lycanthropy

You’d suspect him to be bear when he morphed with his build and height, but he’s a hulking chestnut brown wolf with gentle eyes

Basically a puppy on steroids always expects a treat and good belly rub after eviscerating all his targets

Has the ability to shift at will, so during winter nights you can find him nestled around you for added warmth

During the colder months, he usually wears knitted sweaters and oversized coats in his human form because it reminds him of his fur, and he claims he likes to keep you warm while he holds you in any form

Creates video tutorials of both of you sparring with each other, lots of constructive criticism and compliments on your ‘form’

Begs you to ride him into a mission just for the sake of it, he can so see you as a badass warrior on their monstrous steed

Johnny’s favorite time of day is during the end when you wind down with him and you tell him every detail of your day despite you two being joined at the hip as partners

Always asks questions out of plain curiosity and simply in love with the sound of your voice, it’s the equivalent of you petting his sweet spot on the back of his ear

Without a doubt, he howls in bed while having sex, he’s always teetering the edge of shifting and even though you repeatedly tell him it’s fine to let go, the splintered wood of the headboard and floating feathers of a slashed pillow is evidence of how much concentration he puts in to keep you safe

Manicures and pedicures on a regular basis in the Suh household got to keep those claws clean

Adamant about not getting a pet dog with you, his excuse is he would get too jealous of another canine but his stance is weakening with your improved puppy dog eyes

Multiple jokes about ‘starting a pack’ with you

While in his wolf form, he can understand human language but he doesn’t have the ability to communicate, so both of you rely on subtle gestures

Naturally has a small smile, always nudges you with his snout, and whenever you make a joke to him, he bears his canines that are frightening to most but to you it’s comforting

Johnny’s greatest fear is if you two are ever in an argument and his anger blinds him to the point of him unconsciously shifting and accidentally harming you

Even clumsier in his wolf form, he doesn’t realize actually how massive he is which makes him a hazard to normal-sized beings

Gets most of his stances and moves from the wolves from the twilight series, he won’t admit but he’s certainly inspired by them

Sexual appetite is at a peak when the full moon comes out, growl central!!

The most treasured item you two have is a portrait of wolf-Johnny on his hind legs, attacking your face with slobbering kisses and you grinning brightly because nothing can compare to the bliss of that snapshot

Taeyong

Power: Superhuman Speed

After every assignment, Taeyong’s personal mission is to dote on you, this usually happens by using a covering or his own jacket and slinging it over your shoulders, if there is grime or blood on it, he lets out soft ‘sorry’ even though you always tell him not to

He knows it’s his job, he understands the need, but that doesn’t mean he is comfortable with the bloody side of it, and so he loves talking to you after incidents, your voice is soothing and it helps him process all the trauma, he says it’s for your sake but you know in these moments you are his crutch and you gladly accept the job

Naturally, a faster walker than you so he always manages to be a few feet ahead of you, but when he sees you fall behind, he holds your hand and  tugs lightly while matching your pace

After enhancing his speed,  he always has flushed cheeks and a glossy sheen across his forehead, so you make it a habit to kiss his forehead, cheeks, and lips to cool him down

It doesn’t work, his heart his pulsating harder than ever and does that exasperated airy laugh as an attempt to stabilize his heightened emotions while walking away so you don’t witness his even redder face

You give him piggyback rides after missions, his energy is basically depleted by then, so a jacket for a piggyback ride seems like a fair deal even though he fights you the whole way but you know he adores being cared for

You were the one to convince him to dye his hair pink in an effort to have an easier time spotting him during assignments and now he’s pink blur racing off to defeat villains

When he lightly peppers kisses on your face, the smacks get louder until he finally lands on your lips and it’s the most exaggerated sloppy sound he can make while he squeezes your cheeks

Weekdays for him are for cooking dinner, and you occasionally join to help him but mostly it’s him feeding you bits asking if everything is seasoned well and by the end, he is cursing because half the dinner is already gone

Type of boyfriend to remember you mentioning something you like and a few days later, he buys it for you or he randomly buys you things that remind him of you and leaves it for you as a surprise

Always doodling on you or leaving you notes with drawings so he can remind you that he loves you or to hydrate

After stressful missions, he just plops on top of you, his nose inhaling your scent as he forces his heart to match your rhythm, it lasts for about twenty minutes or until he can finally recharge

Taeyong’s gym locker in the NeoZone is plastered with couple photos of you two and photos of you modeling or candid while he directed you with his camera

The only way you can convince him to give you ten more pushups or five more pullups is if you bribe him with kisses and it always works

Very sacrificial, it’s one of his main flaws, he’ll get super flustered and annoyed when he sees you in the line of fire, so he’ll ultimately take all the heat and scold you after to put yourself first

His face usually has a cold blank stare to it as he observes his surroundings but once you collide into him and coil your arm around his, he grows this massive grin that only you can create

Never takes advantage of his speed with you, his surroundings are always in a constant race and he’s always anticipating the next move, but with you, your a serene presence washing over him; calming him, grounding him to capture every moment of you so it isn’t a blur but a vivid mural

Definitely tender and sensual in bed, once tried to spice things up by using his speed but he almost broke you, so now he only changes his pace if you request it

With your head on his chest every night, the last thing you hear before you fall asleep is the rapid thumping of his heart; it’s the only lullaby you’ll ever need

Yuta

Power: Supernatural Swordsmanship

Cut his hair with his kodachi and you most definitely needed to clean up the edges

Villains dread combating with Yuta, not just because he’s insane with a sword but he only talks about you and your relationship while fighting as if the opponent will answer his question of whether he should give you a cookie or ice cream cake for your birthday or even both 

Rather than making you feel better when you feel down, he would be your soundboard, a shoulder to cry one, a great pair of ears; patience and multiple ‘mhms’ as you unravel your worries while his fingers swirl on your thigh and he kisses your temple

You two could be on opposite sides of the room but his eyes would always gravitate to you and he would wait until you notice so he could meet your gaze and he would do the dorkiest faces, especially his famous lion rawr aegyo, it makes you realize how good of a father he would be

Goes wild when he sees your body tremble beneath him as the cold metal of the kodachi glides along your skin

The only thing rivaling his love for you is his love for his katana, it’s bond that can never be severed and  it’s a trust that only develops between soulmates, you could never understand but you accept and allow it to be the third partner in the relationship

It shouldn’t be possible for Yuta to look like a prince walking out of an otome game right after a battle, but there he is, glistening skin with swept hair and twinkling eyes as he sheathes his katana across his back as if he’s going to ride his horse in the Sengoku period

It’s usual occurrence to catch him absentmindedly talking to his katana, you wouldn’t be surprised if it could talk back, he can summon it by hand already, that sword and he shares one brain cell but he usually uses it as a mirror

You’re a killer couple, not only with looks and fashion but it’s quite a sight to experience as you shoot a bullet to his katana so it can ricochet at a target eighty feet away

Manages a rigorous training session before you wake up and when he’s done, he ends up collapsing on top with his sticky body as you screech at him to get off

The training facility in the NeoZone is rarely used because Yuta is a big believer in fresh air and beautiful scenery will motivate you more, so your sparring on the edge of cliffs and sprinting along the seaside

Alternates between reading books with you outside in your backyard with a makeshift picnic or both of you cuddled in bed with the open windows and the only source of light is the sun

If you have missions abroad, he convinces the agency to always give both of you one day free so you can act like tourists, nobody can say no to his dashing good looks and he knows it

One year for Christmas, you got him custom made tiny katana earrings and it’s literally the one pair he uses now, at least on his lobe

Yuta isn’t the overbearing type when it comes to jealousy, he shouldn’t have a say in what gender your friends are but when he sees a certain person obviously flirting with you it just takes slight glint of his katana to blind the intruder and they are already scurrying off 

Gets a kick out of playing real-life fruit ninja

Decided to shave a slit in his eyebrow with his katana one spontaneous night, he got out of the bathroom with a huge grin and asked, “does this make me look more badass?”

Your hands always end up somewhere around his stomach, gliding across the lean muscles, squeezing around his hips, twiddling his piercing, you name it, you can’t keep your hands off him

Nakamoto Yuta is a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, the pang of fear thrills you as you witness his lack of mercy and fiery anger at injustice as he slaughters anyone that stands before him, but that wicked glint in his eye softens just for you and then you see the scrawling of your name engraved on the hilt of the katana, and you know you are the only one that knows the true Yuta and you feel so blessed

Doyoung

Power: Precognition 

You beg him every possible waking minute for him to allow you to do his makeup if only to contour his insanely sharp cheekbones, he finally relents but he has a scowl on his face the whole time

You’ve become quite a baker with Doyoung but he always has to guide you so his arms snake around your waist as an excuse yet he acts completely innocent when he knows it makes you distracted

Playlist for every occasion, especially when he’s having sex with you, the house ends up feeling hollow whenever he’s away without his angelic voice but to your surprise, Doyoung leaves you secret audio files lulling you in a trance

His mouth becomes a cherished part for you, especially the way the corners of his lips curl up naturally, the small smirk instantly widening when in front of food, or the blinding white teeth as he’s gritting them when approaching an orgasm or laughing at you, not with you

It takes about five minutes for Doyoung to arrange his plushies in the right position so you both don’t ruin them as you cuddle

One arm draped over a plush and the other wrapped around your back, or him in a fetal position with his plush embraced into his chest as you act as the big spoon

Hand holding is strictly for the bedroom with him, but he knows you admire his hands often, so he’ll have him some type of connection with you when out in public; whether it’s his pinkies wrapped around yours, curved into the loop of your pants, or his delicate veiny hand wrapping around your sleeve

End up catching him more than once, gushing over the phone with his brother about how in love he is with you and you may not lurk in the background for a few minutes until you interrupt the conversation by saying hi to Donghyun

Downtime for you two is building a puzzle, coloring some pages, playing board games and him smug with his victory, watching some documentaries or kdramas, and if you two bought some new furniture for your renovating house, he would most definitely want to do it by himself as you laugh while handing him pieces

Manages to still be shy when you both kiss, it’s you who initiates the subtle peck on his pouting lips, but soon the soft curve of his lips invites you more while your hands cup his warming cheeks--he’s a contradiction of being timid but with all the confidence as he nibbles your lips as if you were a delicacy

Training for you two equals nap time, his power allows him to rely on his mind rather than his body, so when you ultimately force yourself to exercise, Doyoung is laying on the couch, lazily cheering you on

Always giving you little compliments in your earpiece as he guides you around for a recon mission, and still holds his breath when he tells you about the unforeseen event that you need to be prepared for even though he knows you can handle it with ease

Studies multitudes of intel before a mission because he can never be too prepared, and it eases his nerves knowing that he can take every precaution in ensuring your safety

Would dedicate a photo album of himself on your phone, and even send you his recent selfies, telling you to choose one of them as an updated contact photo

You clown him 24/7 but he clowns you right back, it’s always a constant playful banter between you two, his eyebrows would furrow when you called him cute, the trembling of lips broke his facade, and when he does it to you, you essentially become his baby as he bites your cheeks but tell no one or he would deny it

From the moment you two wake up until you both arrive at headquarters, he has sullen look across his features, he would brush his lips across your temple and a hoarse good morning would escape his mouth in a notion to acknowledge you, but until he gets coffee in his system his energy hasn’t been restored yet, but your use to it as you tug him to the break room with his lidded eyes

Alone time is a must for you two, it could be both of you in the same room doing your own thing without communication or different parts of the house or mostly you would leave to run errands and Doyoung stuck in his room, but at the end of the day he crawls to you and says a small ‘hey’ as if his day just started from the moment he set eyes on you

Doyoung was always on alert, aware of incoming predictions that he had no say in but easily accepted, it’s a strain on his mental being, a reason why he needs to center himself by being alone, but then you come

Your blank, just like him, you’re unpredictable and foreign to him, but it’s not until you two kiss for the first time, that a hazy premonition reveals itself in a form of two children that share your hair but his feline eyes, it’s fragile though and uncharted, he knows that he needs to do right by you to get to the last level that seemed like paradise to him

Team Dreamer

Jaehyun

Power/Being: Android

During his exoskeleton stage, Jaehyun requested that the scientists create dimples during his living tissue transplant because he heard “they’re to die for”

Definitely thought it was a weapon utilized to kill his enemies

You make a habit to poke at his dimples until you feel the exoskeleton underneath, an oddly comforting sensation that makes you realize that Jaehyun doesn’t have a heart but his actions say otherwise 

Literally the personification of steam coming out of ears in cartoons with scalding red tips, this only happens when you’re in danger or when he sees you in what he perceives as provocative

It took five hours to draw an array of tattoos on him for a disguise on a reconnaissance mission, and a certain neck tattoo was going to make you abandon the mission and your sanity

Sadly, he had to erase them because the “the bad boy” persona was an official disguise in his hardware and couldn’t be revealed to the public

Jaehyun kept one design, however, a soft beauty mark on the apple of his left cheek, he claims it’s your signature as his owner but you like the word partner better

Programs all your training sessions and signature moves to his hard drive because he believes there is no better instructor than you  (except Bruce Lee)

The first time you helped him clean his internal munition unit, you couldn’t decipher any of the weapons so you gave them your own personal nicknames, he kept correcting you but he got tired so he now calls them “wholly fist” and “boom boom pow by the BEP”

You joke around with him that because he was created on valentine’s day, he should be credited as a sexbot but he always frowned at that comment until he figured out he could turn the tables on you by saying “I could be your sexbot”

Whenever he sees another person eyeing you in what he perceives is attraction, he activates his instant kill function with laser red eyes and declaring “target locked”

Suave and intimidating when you two first meet but truly transformed into a ‘soft boy’ after downloading your Pinterest board 

Whenever both of you are out in public, eyes ogle him and mouths gawk, but Jaehyun is oblivious to it all until he turns to someone and starts up the most wholesome conversation about something mundane and you know that person melts with ease because Jaehyun was built to reflect human nature, but he was doing better than most in your opinion

Lots of arcade dates with him, he quickly figured out the algorithm of each game just so he can overflow you with gifts and so he can show off his basketballs skills because he knows you love eyeing his arms in action

When he’s with you though, he’d rather listen and absorb every action and word that you produce, he wants to immerse himself in you because he truly believes that you are all that is good about humankind

Archives every single detail that you speak, and replays it for you when you forget something or to prove you wrong, there is no in-between

Robot sex!!!! That drilling option though...oof

The moment he realizes the blaring internal alarm warning him of his elevated temperature and the shorted circuits whenever you are near, he correlates it to what humans label  “love” so he downloads files on expressing these so-called feelings

Instead of saying “I love you”, he says “I dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin you” when he first confesses, and you assume there is a chemical imbalance within him so you rush him to the infirmary but for the first time, Jaehyun stalls and his eyes are clouded with retrieved information glowing neon green until he settles on “I love...I love...I love you” (yes, he stole it from Mr. Darcy, so sue him, he’s a fracking android)

Jaehyun sometimes doubts his ability to love you and even you sometimes question if you can love a piece of metal, but then you observe him before he joins you in bed that he triples check his instant kill function is disabled and he gushes about the new song he discovered and you are so sure that he was made for you

Jungwoo

Power: Lightning Bolt Projection

Gets easily flustered with the most pouty lip ever when you call him ‘Zeus’, it was his failed superhero name when he was trainee, but to you, he is much better than that jerk of a Greek god

Dressed up as the actual Zeus once for the office Halloween party and the year after that as a lightning bolt and you a storm cloud

Whenever Jungwoo craves attention but you’re occupied with another task, he repeatedly zaps you, not enough to harm, but until you cave in yet when you want to be annoyed with him, his owlish eyes and trembling lips easily subdue you

Your shoulder is a sacred space for him, it's the perfect fit for his head to settle in with a toothy grin and the warmest ‘mhms’ as he listens to you speak

Jungwoo was never much of a fighter, his powers were swift enough to eradicate enemies with not much mobility, but training sessions with you were more than enough of an excuse to spend time with you

Lately, your skin has been electrifying, not only the amorous glow you were emitting, but everyone you came in contact with felt a slight spark

Hair treatments are a must, the frizz is wild with Jungwoo, you really need to ask about his hair products because his hair so fluffy despite the amplitude of currents running through him

While brushing your teeth with him, he always shoots out finger hearts to you and winks through the mirror, it’s a great way to start the day

Never felt more grateful for his power until you were attacked on an assignment and your heart failed, it took four shocks to revive you with streams of tears and muttering to any God to hear his prayer

He’s most himself in the rain, umbrellas have never been on your shopping list

Definitely shoots bolts out of his finger guns and then blows on them afterward, if he’s feeling flirty, an added wink explodes your heart

Your biggest cheerleader when you are kicking ass during a mission

It’s a tradition for him to rake his fingers over your back with slight ripples of electricity while you cuddle in bed, it does wonders to relax your muscles

It’s been months of practice to improve his bolt voltage and range, but he finally managed to write ‘I love you y/n” in the sky, he couldn’t help it, he’s bursting at the seams with adoration for you

Both of you in the kitchen is a sight to see, you season but he cooks the food, his specialty is slightly charred chicken

Packs both of your lunches so you can eat together on break

Gets scared easily and as a result will discharge a lightning bolt as a defense, so pranks are off-limits between the team members

Literal sparks when you kiss, numbing and exhilarating as currents pass through your molding bodies to create goosebumps and raising hairs

When he thinks of home, his first instinct is to be cradled in your arms, watching trashy movies as a thunderstorm quakes the earth

Mark

Power: Compulsion

Mark might excel in whispering but when you turn the tables on him, with your sultry murmurs, he can’t help becoming a puddle of blushing mush

Never once used actual compulsion on you, the only exception is when you figured out the surprise birthday party he was planning for you, he redirected your attention to grocery shopping

His favorite part of you is your right ear because it’s where you naturally tuck your hair at and he just loves to twirl a strand of it in his finger while he mutters sweet nothings to you

You’re his bodyguard during missions, he can’t possibly get that close to targets while they attack if you aren’t watching his back

Even when he is supposed to be acting intimidating during an assignment, he can’t help but stutter and repeat ‘uh’ a thousand times, but he gets the job done eventually

Your literally breaking sweat, contorting your body so four targets don’t reach Mark, and he’s over there oversharing with another target

“The love of my life is about to kick your ass and you aren’t going to do a single thing about it, booby head” or “make the password ‘mark and y/n forever’ or else”

Naturally whispers in his sleep with his stinky breath in your ear, and you try to push him off but he just clings onto you like a koala 

In the morning though, the slight breakage in his voice from pitched to croaky as he says good morning to you is on repeat in your head for the whole day

Mark’s give away when he is about to use compulsion is him licking his thin lips, and almost makes you get knocked out by the enemy because your already under his spell

Does a tiny dance for any occasion, from doing the laundry, stripping naked, or when you two had your first kiss

It’s the strained grunts, the heavy breathing, and the showering of hushed compliments in your ears that makes you reach your peak in bed, Mark always sounded better when he was being pleasured

To him, your voice is the loveliest sound across the universe and your adorably awkward cackle that you so desperately try to hide as he reenacts vines to you is what happiness is to him

Ice cream dates consist of him bringing a tub of ice cream to a yogurt shop because he knows you prefer it

Coughed over his first fart with you but now he loves to fart on you as you pretend you are suffocating and gagging

Has a folder in his photos dedicated to you where it ranges from blurry to candids and in during most of them he was either hyping you up or teasing you

Greets you with a ‘yo!’ whenever he enters the room

Will always buy you any lip product associated with watermelon and you’ll always buy him baseball caps for him to wear

Despite being loud for 90% of your relationship, he is most vulnerable with when he whispers his greatest fears, future goals, and nightmares to you because your the only one he can trust

With the many decibels that Mark Lee varies in, your favorite by far has to be the ascending chortle from the low HAs to the high HEEs with clapping hands and a scrunched nose that puffs out his cheeks-- it’s pure bliss to you

Haechan

Power: Light Manipulation 

Haechan is utterly in love with your cheeks, instead of biting them or pinching them, he opts to kiss them whenever he has a chance, it’s rushing heat of your blush and the swelling of your smile that he lives for

The little spoon in bed, just so he can wrap his leg around you and nestle his head in the crook of your neck just like a koala

Literally always a brat to you, it’s the many ways he shows you affections

You asked him once to paint your nails, and now he does it every Friday ever since he discovered the ‘my hands look like this so hers can look like this’ meme even though his hands just have bitten nails

A man of action, Haechan shows you love through his movements with a heart framed by his fingers or blowing a kiss

Needs to always be physically attached to you, whether it’s hugging you from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder, or falling into you when he’s in a fit of giggles, he needs you to know that he will never let you go

Snarky remarks and cheesy jokes define your relationship with Haechan

Manages to always wake up before you on those lazy mornings with you burrowed deep into his side, and he can’t help but be memorized by your presence but soon feels selfish when he moves a ray of sunlight to your eyes so he can just peek at the explosion of colors in your eyes when you flutter them open--ah yes, this is his favorite part of the day

Loves to play video games with you into the late hours of the night, especially overwatch, but your always the first one to pass out, so he makes sure to tuck you in and dim the light of the screen so it doesn’t bother you

Most nights the both of you are wide awake so you end up playing ‘what the light?’, a game where Haechan creates 3D objects out of light and you have to guess what they are before he finishes them

Oh, and shadow puppets! He’s become quite the expert with them, he creates the most ridiculous stories with them but you join him by voicing the characters

In addition to ‘I love you’ as a goodbye, you have a secret intricate handshake with him, his excuse was that if you two ever question’s one identity if ever an enemy swapped bodies, you two would know the truth with the handshake but in reality, he just loves that extra time with you before you two part 

It’s either Haechan teasing and making fun of you or he’s doting on you, there is no in-between because after all, you are his idiot

If he’s in the mood, he’ll solidify light photons into the shape of a sword and call it ‘sunflower’, he just loves to tell the tale that he took out fifteen assassins with a sunflower, but usually, he blinds them or burns them

Goes the extra mile for you to create a spotlight on you when you are giving a mission brief at headquarters, that’s the love of his life right there and he’ll make damn sure everyone notices them

Recreates Edward’s sparkling in the sun scene just so he can see you beam with laughter 

Master of mood lighting during sex, and don’t even mention when he hits his climax, bulbs flickers and lamps explode

It might be a trick of the light, but Haechan’s eyes are vividly bright and he’s drowned in golden hues of sunlight, it makes you wonder if he was plucked from the star itself

Yet, as your lips quiver and your glassy eyes blink the last remnants of tears in Haechan’s cupped hands, there is an inner glow from them as you bask in their warmth, he can’t help but proclaim that you are the sun of his world, you are the light of his life even when it feels like his is diminishing

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 13

A/N: I started writing this chapter thinking it would just be a filler, but I ended up really liking it!

Message me what you’d like to see in the upcoming chapters

[Click here for previous chapters]

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The loud chimes of Elizabeth’s phone alarm started blaring, shaking her from a deep sleep. She reached over to turn it off. 7 AM. Harry stirred beside her before settling back down and she smiled, still blown away that he was even here with her. Not wanting to wake him, she cautiously slid out of bed, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed towards her bathroom in the hall to take a quick shower and wash away the filth from last night’s activities.

Today was Elizabeth’s first day ‘back to work’ since her best friends’ wedding, and even though she worked from home most days, she did feel more productive when she got dressed and ready for the day. After her shower she brushed her teeth, put her damp hair in a perfect low messy bun, got dressed in a black halter top, tucked it into a pair of high-waisted brown plaid pants, and layered it with a chunky knit beige cardigan and gold necklaces before creeping downstairs to make breakfast.

There wasn’t much food because she wasn’t able to do her weekly shopping yesterday, but she did have eggs and veggies, so she decided to whip up a couple veggie omelettes for her and Harry and make some tea.

While the tea brewed, Elizabeth grabbed the trash out of the can and took it out to the waste bin. Wednesdays were trash collection day and she always took hers and her elderly neighbor’s trash to the curb to collect. It was drizzling outside so she tried to hurry.

“Oh, Elizabeth!” 

Elizabeth looked up and smiled politely at her neighbor who was watching her from her window “Good morning, Judy! How are you?”

“I’m well, dear! Thanks for taking my trash again! Will you be joining me for dinner tonight? I’m making stuffed peppers!”

“That sounds wonderful, Judy, but I actually have a friend over for a few days.”

“Is it that handsome fellow that showed up yesterday?” she asked, making Elizabeth silently chuckle to herself. Judy resembled a younger Iris Apfel in appearance. She was an eccentric 83 year old retired widow with no close relatives, so she spent most of her time staring out of her window and observing the neighbors. Just is very sweet, but she’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind. “You can bring him along if you’d like. 6 o’clock, then?”

Elizabeth nodded, you can’t say no to Judy, “Ok, we’ll see you at 6, then.” before scurrying inside to see Harry, still only wearing his boxer briefs, in the kitchen pouring two cups of the now-brewed tea, .

He looked up, confused, “What were you doing out in the rain?”

Elizabeth kicked off her shoes, eyeing his body and his perfectly placed tattoos, “I was taking mine and my elderly neighbors trash bins out.”

He smiled at her, “You take your elderly neighbor’s bins out? What are you, perfect?”

“Yeah, I’m an absolute saint and don’t you forget it,” she laughed, taking the cup of tea from him, “Speaking of how amazing I am, I made you breakfast. I’m gonna take mine to the office and get started on work.”

Harry pulled her closer to him before she could leave, looking into her eyes for a moment. They smiled at each other before he kissed her forehead and let her continue upstairs.

Work seemed excessively mundane today. All she found herself thinking about was how much she wanted to go downstairs and hang out with Harry, wondering what he was even doing, and thinking about how she could just save some of this work for another time, but she really wanted to get as much done as she can so she didn’t have to do a ton of work later. 

It was lunchtime and her video conference with one of her clients and some members of staff was running over time. Elizabeth jotted down notes as they wrapped up their meeting. She was in the middle of talking when her door creaked open and a still-shirtless Harry tip-toed in, carrying a plate and a drink. 

She powered through the interruption and continued, “...So I think we’ll let Connor take reign of that particular platform and we can have that ready for approval by Monday morning, how does that sound?” she said, gesturing for Harry to have a seat on the sofa on the other side of her desk so that he was out of view.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” her client agreed with satisfactory approval from her team, “And you’ll be sending us the agenda for our next call?”

“Yes, I’ll get that over to you by the end of the week,” Elizabeth assured, feeling Harry’s gaze, “Alright, everyone. Well thank you for another constructive meeting. I’ll let you all go so you can grab some lunch and I’ll see you on our next call in two weeks. Kathy, if there’s anything else you need just shoot me an email.”

Everyone sang their goodbyes and Elizabeth closed her laptop, deflating in her chair and turning her attention to Harry who was looking at her with a lopsided smile and an eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know why,” Harry started, “but seeing you working is really hot.”

Elizabeth chortled, rolling her eyes, “You bored yet?”

“No, I’ve actually been catching up on emails and calls, too. My publicist just sent me this,” he lifted his phone up to her to show a few pictures of Harry at the club he attended with their friend group on Sunday. Her and her friends were seen in the background, “The article said nothing of the fight and just mentioned me being there with friends in passing, so everything is still in the clear. There was nothing of me at the carnival, either.” Elizabeth blew out a ton of fresh air in relief as he continued, “Anyway, I just thought I’d bring you some lunch because you never came down,” He placed the plate on her desk that carried a beautiful turkey sandwich and some chips with a glass of water.

“Wow, I’m spoiled.”

“I figured it’s the least I can do since I invited myself over.”

“That reminds me,” Elizabeth swallowed a chip, “Judy invited us over for dinner at 6.”

Harry hesitated, “Uh….who’s Judy?”

“My neighbor. The one with the trash bins. She’s 83 and has no relatives in the area, so I have dinner with her every few weeks and we do a puzzle together.”

“Alright, now you’re just showing off. You’re gorgeous, smart, GREAT at sex, and you play puzzles with your elderly neighbor?”

“My god, you’re such a flirt!” Elizabeth crooned, rolling her eyes, “Anyway, I doubt she’ll know who you are. She saw you at my door yesterday and called you ‘the handsome fellow’.”

Harry laughed, “Judy’s got good taste. Maybe I ended up on the wrong doorstep.”

Elizabeth scoffed and shooed Harry away, “Okay, let me get back to work so I can be done earlier. And please go shower. Judy’s 83, she’s not stupid. You wreak of sex.”

“You sure you don’t want to have another quick go at it? We can make room on your desk.”

“Out!” Elizabeth demanded, laughing.

By the time 5:30 rolled around, Elizabeth had completed double the amount of work that she was meant to. She was eager to check out what Harry was doing, because she thought she couldn’t hear the faint sounds of a guitar. Sure enough when Elizabeth reached the end of the staircase and peered into the living room she saw Harry sitting on the edge of the sofa with a guitar in hand, humming and muttering along to a tune and occasionally stopping to jot something down in his phone. The floorboard creaked and Harry sat up straight.

“Whatcha singing?” Elizabeth smiled, walking in.

He put his guitar down and sat up, “Just...working on some music. Gonna work on it a little more when I see Mitch and the guys next week.”

Elizabeth nodded and the two got ready to head on over to Judy’s house. She was slightly worried how Judy would react.The odd’s were small, but what if she did know who Harry was? Or what if she had said some things that were a bit inappropriate? How would Harry react? Elizabeth was used to Judy’s eccentricity and knew how to communicate with her, but would Harry be able to manage? She could be a bit much sometimes. But, given the amount of interviews Harry’s been in over the course of almost ten years, surely he knows how to handle himself. 

They decided to make their way over in the pouring rain, using their jackets for cover, as they were greeted at the door by a thin, pale woman who had way too much pink blush on and the brightest red lipstick imaginable. Her eyes looked magnified behind her bold, black squared glasses, and her white hair peaked from underneath an emerald green headdress with gold brooches of bumblebees and butterflies along the side. Her long blouse set was almost disorienting as it was covered in bold chartreuse and magenta geometric shapes and she wore layers upon layers of gaudy costume jewelry. 

“Come in, come in, dinner is just about done!” She ushered them inside.

Elizabeth glanced over at Harry to see his eyes widened as he looked from Judy to her home that was an antique hoarder’s dream and she giggled to herself, following Judy towards the dining kitchen. 

“Judy, this is my friend, Harry,” Elizabeth introduced, grabbing some plates out of the cabinet for her.

Judy turned to look Harry up and down, noting his tattoos before saying, “He’s not the prick that cheated on you after three years, is he?”

Harry smiled as Elizabeth laughed and said, “No, that’s not him.”

Judy nodded in approval, “Alright, then. This boy’s got a nice face,” she declared, turning to Harry, “Are you having sex with her?”

Harry’s eyes widened and Elizabeth shouted, “Judy!”

“What?” She shrugged her shoulders, turning the stovetop off and stirring up the pot before looking back at Harry, “All I’m saying is if you’re having sex, just make sure you’re getting her off, too. You young men these days are so selfish in the bedroom.”

Harry laughed as Elizabeth asked, “Is that from personal experience, Judy?”

Judy cackled, “Honey, I may be old, but I’ve still got it,” causing Harry and Elizabeth to bust into laughter.

Dinner was delicious and Elizabeth noticed Harry getting more comfortable as conversations went on. She saw him loosening up, realizing he could joke with her. When dinner finished up, she brought out a puzzle for them all to start together. It was small enough for them all to be able to finish before night’s end. 

By the time they were halfway finished, Judy asked, “So, are you two dating or just screwing around?” When she noticed the look Elizabeth and Harry gave each other she waved her hands, “No judgement to ya! Everyone needs some casual fucks every now and again.”

Harry cleared his throat and took a sip of water, “Well I’m trying to get her to date me, but she’s playing hard to get.”

Judy looked over at Elizabeth, “What’re you doing that for? Is he bad in bed or something?”

Elizabeth laughed, pushing a puzzle piece into its spot, “No he’s fantastic in bed. I’m just trying to...take it slow.”

“Taking it slow is for the birds if you found a guy that’s handsome and good in bed. That’s rare.” Judy scoffed.

Harry grinned, “Tell me about it. I’ve been trying to date her since I was 15 years old.”

“For that long?!” Judy exclaimed, shocked, “What are you making this poor boy wait so long for? Does he have a shit job or something?”

Elizabeth shook her head no while Harry, jokingly, kept adding fuel to the fire, “I’m rich, Judy! I’ve got money, the looks, I’m good in bed, I’m a gentleman. What more could she want?”

Judy shook her head, “She’s out of her mind, is what she is, I’ll tell ya that!”

Harry winked at Elizabeth before turning back to Judy, “Might just cut my losses. What do you think, Judy? You and me?”

Judy hooted, “Ooh, I’ll tell ya what. If Elizabeth doesn’t come to her senses soon then I’ll snatch you right up! It’s been a long time, but I reckon I still got it!”

Harry laughed, “Judy, I’m trying to convince Lizzy to come travel with me for a bit. You think you can help me out?”

Judy looked over at Elizabeth, eyes wider, “This handsome boy wants to take you away from this god forsaken city, and you said no?”

“Because he wants to leave on Saturday! I wasn’t properly prepared!” Elizabeth defended herself.

“Girl, you need to learn how to live a little! The best adventures are always spontaneous! You should go! I can take my own damn trash out while you’re gone!”

Harry smirked over at Elizabeth. Judy was smitten with him, now, and Elizabeth knew that she would never hear the end of it from Judy if she didn’t go. There were too many factors working against them, though. Again, he was famous. Every step he made was scrutinized. People would eventually notice a different woman being seen around him. What would the backlash look like? She also had her own work to worry about. Sure, she could manage to do her work on the road, but would she even have the time to? Who knows what his PR touring looked like? And what about the people that worked for him? What would they say about her tagging along? She wanted to go, but she wasn’t sure if she should.

KEEP READING

[hilllsnholland]

White Party

Rich!Tom x Reader 

Wc: 3k 

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), drinking, and swearing 

Summary: The party might look innocent, but your intentions are as naughty as they come 

Thick, hot late-summer air created a dreamy haze around the White Party. The richest of rich, the most affluent people in the world gathered at the Holland’s summer house for the last bash of the season. Fall would soon arrive and the aristocrats wanted one more excuse to drink expensive wine and complain about mundane problems. 

You were dressed in a short white dress with small crystals covering the bodice. Your lips were sporting the perfect shade of red lipstick, one of Tom’s favorite colors on you. A beautiful silver chain hung from your neck, a ring with your initials engraved into it. A gift from Tom, who was now no where to be seen. It would be the first outing as a couple for the two of you but he was so busy schmoozing he’d completely forgot about you. So now you were stuck talking to Holly and April about tory nonsense. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice to go on holiday in Belize?” Holly asks you with wine coming to her lips. “They got loads of beaches and those tropical huts with the hammocks! It’s an Instagram dream!” 

“Uh-huh…yeah. Great…weather,” You look around for your boyfriend but he’s hidden amongst the white-clad guests. Holly frowns at you.

“You can’t expect him to be at your side you know,” April narrows her eyes at you. “He has a party to host. You’re a big girl,” 

April was trying to be helpful but it came out in a condescending manner. You ignored her though, placing your glass on the table and leaving them. Tom had an obligation yes, but you wanted some attention too. You could be by his side, making the diplomats laugh with your witty humor. But no, you were on the sidelines talking about designer shoes and holidays trips. It was mind-numbing when you wanted to be a part of the action. 

That’s all you wanted, to be included in on the fun. There was deep conversations to be had, but your friends were not the brightest in the bunch after having one too many Bellinis. Which is why you wanted to show your brains, and beauty, off with Tom. The two of you would be the dynamic couple of the socialite scene. Not like it mattered, but it would make you happy knowing that everyone adored the coupling. 

You cross the party, looking everywhere to find Tom. You catch glimpses of his parents and brothers, but none of them have your boyfriend in your grasp. Harrison is standing in the doorway of the summer house, fanning himself off with a napkin, a white suit making his eyes glimmer. 

“Hey,” He says to you in a small voice. “It’s fucking blazing and Tom insisted I wear this,” 

Harrison points to his ensemble, which to be fair was really thick. You think back to Tom, wearing white slacks that were fitted to his body and tight in the right places. His sports jacket was left open and he looked so delicious. Maybe that was bothering you the most, how much you needed him. 

This morning you were practically begging for him to touch you. Although he was busy making last-minute decisions for the party. His parents put him in charge of it this year, a right of passage for the oldest boy. Tom was hands-on for months, but was a stress case all summer. This only deepened your desire to make him feel good. To know you were easing his tension, making him feel good. But also how he could relax you with his expertise. How you longed for his skillful hands and tongue to make you cum, over and over again. 

“Are you looking for him?” Haz asks. 

“Yeah, I can’t find him anywhere,” You shrug, your cheeks turning a pink as those naughty thoughts filled your mind. 

“I was talking to him earlier, he said he was going to go check on the food or something,” 

You nod, walking into the house with Harrison right behind you. He’s muttering about the heat again, shrugging his coat off and exposing the clean white shirt underneath. It reminded you of the plain t-shirt Tom wore on one of your first date. 

Tom had taken you on a picnic in the gardens, wearing that t-shirt with plain jeans. It was simple, so out of character for him. You had felt overdressed, wearing a designer dress that your father bought you from fashion week. Although you were embarrassed, Tom assured you that you looked beautiful, then kissed you. He tasted like raspberries and white wine. 

You snapped back to reality as you walked into the kitchen, staff were running around frantically trying to get all the food and alcohol on time. There was no Tom though. He’d usually be talking to the head chef, trying out the food and complimenting him on his hard work. Charlie, one of the busboys stops in front of you, slicking his hair back and greeting you. 

“Hi Y/N! Looking for Tom? You just missed him,” He points towards the side door. “He said he was going to his room for a bit to freshen up if you want to catch him,” 

“Oh that’s perfect Charlie, thank you,” You smile back at him and turn to Haz. “Coming with?”

“Nah, I’m gonna head back out with some ice.” 

You respond with a bare ‘hm’ and a nod before walking out the side door. This led to the second set of stairs that went up to the upper floors. It came in handy when you needed a midnight snack and didn’t want to walk through the crazy corridors and hallways. You trot up the stairs, wishing you didn’t wear such clunky shoes to the event and wobbled towards Tom’s door. You don’t knock, pushing the door open and scanning the room for Tom. 

“Babe?” You call and close the door behind you. 

He’s not laying in his misshaped bed or standing in the walk-in closet so you wander to the en-suit bathroom, which is adorned with blue accents and your very shirtless boyfriend. His shirt is laying on the bathroom counter, wrinkled by the half-hazard throw. Tom stares at you, a smirk appearing on his face while you stare at him in all his glory. 

“Costume change?” You quip as you pick up the shirt from the counter. 

“Small one. I thought the shirt looked too baggy so I’ve been trying to decide on a new one,” 

Tom gestures to the seven white shirts hanging up on a rack, all looking identical but with slight differences. You couldn’t help him though, your mind was concentrated on his chiseled chest and tan skin that tempted you. Tom watches your glazed eyes wander his body, his ego-boosting with the lick of your lips. He turns, flexing his muscles just for you and you swear it’s gotten a hundred degrees hotter in the room. 

“What’s on your mind?” Tom pulls a shirt from the rack and eyes it casually. 

You pause, strutting towards him and tracing his back with your acrylic nails. He holds back a shiver, he loved the way your nails tickled his back. It was comforting, but also arousing in the right sense. 

“Did you know,” You blow hot air across his ear. “That the White Party tradition has racist roots?” 

Tom snorts. It’s not a laughing manner but because of the way you are he can’t help but laugh. 

“Like all upper-class things, it dips its toe into the waters of oppression and systematic injustices,” 

You smile, kissing the back of his neck playfully. Tom’s hairs stand up straight as he leans back into your hot touch. 

“Does social justice talk get you riled up love?” He turns to meet your lustful eye with a glow of confidence. 

“Only if it’s with you,” 

Tom’s hands cross your waist, pulling you tighter against his body. You can smell the peach champagne on his breath as he moves his lips towards your neck. He’s moving slowly. Agonizingly slow that you want to push him against the counter and take him now. 

“What’s really going on?” He nips at your neck. “Not enjoying the party?” 

Tom’s voice is smooth as it rolls over your prickled skin. He knows exactly how to play you, his fingers crawling over the thin fabric of the dress and playing with the outline of your undergarments. He knows what’s underneath. A skinned colored set that he got for you a few weeks back. The one that perked your breasts up and hugged your hips perfectly. The thought made him almost salivate on the spot. 

“Not really, I’d rather have you by my side than those girls,” You pout as he moves away from you. “And I’ve been horny all day so,” 

You drag him back, pulling him against you roughly. His coy smile strengthens the heat building inside of you. It’s no longer a want, it’s a need for him to be inside of you. His touch was your only salvation. 

“Well if that’s so,” Tom teases. 

He extends two fingers towards your lips, brushing them across for permission to continue. You lick his long fingers, meeting his eye as you simulate what you’ve done plenty of times before on his hand. Tom loved it, the innocence in your eyes that drove him mad or maybe the way he knew how it felt but loved the way it looked more. You create a pop with your mouth as you pull them away, cocking a brow. 

“Get over here,” 

Tom’s voice was rushed as he lifted you into his arms, lips smacking against yours in a hungry rage. His teeth skimmed across your bottom lip while his hands rushed to pull the white dress from your body. You were just as hasty, shuffling the belt off of his trousers and throwing them to the floor. It took mere seconds for the two of you to be in your underwear, but it felt like decades had passed since the last time you were intimate like this. This kind of hunger was new and it needed to be filled. 

Tom places you on the cold countertop while he scavenged your chest for skin to make marks on. You lean back onto the mirror, admiring your gorgeous boyfriend attending to your every need. He knew where to kiss, touch, and suck to make your sense go wild. It was tunnel vision with only his heavy breathes and the heat between your legs in the center of your thoughts. Suddenly, your panties are thrown to the floor, the flesh lace slightly ripped from the looks of it. Oh well, he’d buy you a new one anyway. 

“Can I get a taste?” His voice is muffled against your stomach as he kneeled down. 

“Y-yes please,” 

Tom slips between your legs that were vibrating with excitement. You have never been under such a deep spell over him since the first time you were intimate. It was a moonlight dinner on his yacht. The breeze was cold so you were cuddled against him for warmth, his mouth giving hot kisses to your exposed skin. It was a misty memory of skin against skin, moans, and hushed ‘I love you’s. You would never forget that feeling of the first time being in his embraced. 

Your eyes draw back while a breathy moan escapes your parted lips. Tom dances his tongue along your slit, teasing slowly with his middle finger on your clit. You arch against the mirror so your wet entrance brushes across his lips. Tom kisses it, wide mouth while skimming across the folds. It’s a fucking dream, it has to be. Only this much euphoria can be formed in an imagination. You curse out, panting as his rubs your clit a little harder, your insides bubbling and tightening. Tom continues his feast while raising a finger up to your lips to remind you to be quiet. The house is filled with staff and guests that would love to find a scene like this to gossip about. 

It’s almost impossible though, you’re at the edge of exploding. His loud smacks and moans of satisfaction are enough to make you dizzy. You buck towards him, yelping as a sign of what’s to come. Literally. Tom takes long licks of your heat, dragging out every last bit of pleasure he can. You’re a mess of heavy breathes, eyes rolling back as your muscles pulse and release onto Tom’s tongue. He chuckles, sitting up from your heat and grabbing a towel to wipe his face off. 

“Where do you want me?” He asks breathlessly. 

“In me,” Your voice struggles to make it out without a whine. 

Tom picks you up again, taking you to his half-made bed and laying you across the pristine white sheets. His hand caresses your cheek, thumb drawing around your red lips in satisfaction. You see his smile only for a moment when he flips you on your stomach, taking a hold of your knees and throwing your back so your tiled up into the air. 

“New position,” Tom murmurs. 

His hands rest on your ass while you feel his tip ease into you. Glittery spots appear in front of your eyes as he bottoms out, your mouth dry from being hung open too long. Tom takes his time to feel every part of your pussy, dragging his cock in and out to hear every whine and curse leave your lips. The same lips that dragged red stains on the sheets, your lip prints making a temporary marker of how amazing he was fucking you. Tom grips your bum tighter, moving your body to a rhythm against is hips. You almost choked on your own breath, the new position hitting deeper than ever before. Both of your hips hit perfectly, the sound of your skin filling the room along with Tom’s muffled grunts. 

“Yes…fuck…love you’re so…fuck,” 

It’s taking all of his will power to not raise his voice. If no one was home he would praising you at full volume, making sure you knew exactly how you were making him feel. The way you clenched around him and swiveled your hips against his, fuck he was going mad. The stress from the party really drove him away from your perfect body. Never again would he let that happen. He needed you as much as you needed him. It took his mind off impressing the Uppers, and more focused on how to make you crumble around him. 

Tom pulls out suddenly, flipping you onto your back and diving on top of you. Lips now moving as one as he entered you again. This time the speed is hungrier, desperate for the release he’s dying to have. You can feel the low growls against your mouth. Tom can barely hold it together. He was coming undone but wanting to make you get your filling at the same time. You pull back, grabbing his face to focus on you while you reach another climax. His fingers go to your clit again, knowing it’ll be even more intense than the last. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh my-“ You shake with pleasure as your eyes screw shut. 

He captures your lips against, engulfing you in an embrace as he thrusts faster into you. It’s hard to even keep the room straight, the overstimulation making your eyes flutter open and shut while your insides unravel again. 

“Good girl…cum…cumming…fuck,” Tom finally whines. 

His head dips to your chest while his hips stutter against yours. It’s the slowest moment in the lustful rush, Tom unloading inside of you with soft moans on your skin. You feel the warmth run between your thighs as he pulls himself away. The room is spinning while lights twinkle above you. The reflection of the light on your necklace makes it look like there are tiny rainbows surrounding you. It’s like heaven, especially with the angel laying next to you. Tom’s arm is protectively thrown over you as he catches himself up with reality. Your legs tangle with his as you roll over to meet his glazed eyes. 

“Now that’s a party,” 

Tom, red in the face, rolls his tired eyes at you. He rolls to embrace you again, kissing your shoulder lightly. 

“I’m glad you’re finally enjoying yourself,” He hums against your skin. “I still want to show you off though. You’re my girl and I want everyone to know,” 

You look down to your body, bruised from his love bites and roughed around from his relentless thrusting. 

“I think if they saw me like this they’ll know,” You laugh. “But we should get back before people get suspicious,” 

You roll from the bed to retrieve your dress which was still in pretty good shape. Your lipstick has been smeared off and your mascara had fallen onto your cheeks. It was gonna be a real mission to fix yourself up but you had to do it. With a few ruined face towels you had perfected your face again. Tom appeared behind your with a fitted white shirt and his pants from before. He looked like a cover of a romance novel. Toned, muscular, and beaming with after sex. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Tom kisses the top of your head while admiring your body. “So lucky. But I want everyone to see that,” 

“Well show me the way,” 

Tom bites his lip, shyly smiling as he takes your hand to lead you back into the party. His hand is molded to your hip while you enter the belly of the beast. All eyes are on the two of you, gleeful smiles from friends and family at how amazing the both of you look. Tom rubs your hip, kissing the side of your face. It was exactly what you wanted, Tom by your side while making your mark on the party. 

“I love you,” He whispers. 

You meet his eye, the white clothing making him look even tanner and more dashing. The glittery rainbows from before are back, dancing along his skin from your necklace. You kiss him again, leaning your forehead against his. 

“I love you too,”

///

///

tagging: @mcuspidey  @stuckonspidey  @worldoftom  @cmonpetertingle @blissfulparker @starksparker @spiderboytotherescue @madmadmilk

[books-bring-you-to-wonderland]

Headcanon for minicat and basicallyido407?

Minicat

-They both put on each other's glasses and do the whole "Woa, you're so blind!" thing even though they're both blind as fuckin bats

-They love their dogs more than they love each other, and spoil them relentlessly (Craig likes to buy Kino doggie outfits, and Tyler may pretend to hate them but he doesn't)

-Tyler tries to steal his boyfriend's clothes but everything is always just a bit too small- Craig might be cozy in a stolen t-shirt, but Tyler looks like he's wearing a crop top (he's got a little more chub to love)

-Tyler likes to join in on the meme streams and backseat comment, but he's basically Craig's second gaming chair

-Tyler is an asshole who will put things on the top of the fridge just to spite his boyfriend, thank you very much

-You'd think Craig would be the official interior decorator of their house, but in fact it's Tyler who gets fussy about where throw pillows go and how the curtains should hang

-They sing whatever obnoxious pop song is on the radio while they cook, no matter how off key and terrible their performance may be

Basicallyido407

-Inseparable; if you see Scotty, Marcel is somewhere nearby and vice versa

-They like to snowboard and ski, but are they any good at it? No, no they're not

-Marcel will complain the whole time if they do actually go skiing

"It's to cooooold, I just wanna snuggle, Scotty."

"We can snuggle when we're dead."

-Whenever they have an opportunity to do a couple's costume, they do it, and they argue about who gets to be the girl every time

-"Scotty, honeybuns, snookums, the light of my life? Can you do the dishes?"

"It's your turn to do the dishes, Marcel."

"THIS IS RACIST."

-Scotty will use the puppy dog eyes on Marcel and it never works, unless Marcel is boozed up to high heavens

-Scotty in the cheerleader outfit but it's every other week and usually has to do with some mundane task or another ("GOOOOO TAKE THE TRASH OUT! YAY! GO TEAM!")

-They go to Disneyland for their anniversary every year, and always buy those silly mickey mouse ears and take a million photos in them

[bookishable]

deathly hallows book moments

warning: this one’s a rollercoaster ride of emotions, read at your own risk.

‘the idea of a teenage dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid hermione or a friendly blast-ended skrewt.’

“i don’t think you’re a waste of space.”

‘he felt like asking them to show a little more respect for his privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly much more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.’

ron: why do i have to clean my room? mrs weasley: !!! WEDDING !!! ron: theyre not getting married in my damn bedroom

“we’re coming with you. that was decided months ago—years, really.”

“if i picked up a sword right now, ron, and ran you through with it, i wouldn’t damage your soul at all.” “which would be a real comfort to me, i’m sure”

harry waking up on his birthday forgetting he was 17

“accio glasses!” although they were only around a foot away, there was something immensely satisfying about seeing them zoom towards him, at least until they poked him in the eye.

ron giving harry a book called twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches for his birthday

“i’ve learned a lot. you’d be surprised, it’s not all about wandwork, either.”

‘the rest of her speech was lost; harry had got up and hugged her. he tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug and perhaps she understood them’

“are you planning to follow a career in magical law, miss granger?” “no i’m not, i’m hoping to do some good in the world!”

“it’s time you learned some respect!” “it’s time you earned it”

hermione: when we were little we heard stories like snow white and cinderella ron: what’s that, an illness? harry: rip me i never got read any stories

“a brutal triple murder by the bridegroom’s mother might put a bit of a damper on the wedding.”

“merlin’s beard, what is xenophilius lovegood wearing? he looks like an omelette.” excuse me why wasn’t auntie muriel like this in the film

“he used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run on to the dance floor, hoist up his robes and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—” “yes, he sounds a real charmer”

harry suggesting that xenophilius lovegood’s deathly hallows necklace is the cross-section of the head of a crumple-horned snorkack

“vot is the point of being an international quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?”

‘harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where ron could stick his wand instead.’

harry reading lily’s letter and noticing that they wrote their g’s the same way as each other, i’m sobbing

‘the letter was an incredible treasure, proof that lily potter had lived, really lived’

KREACHER’S GODDAMN TALE

kreacher hitting mundungus over the head with a saucepan “perhaps just one more, master harry, for luck?”

“if anyone shouldn’t go, it’s harry, he’s got a ten thousand galleon price on his head—” “fine, i’ll stay here, let me know if you ever defeat voldemort, won’t you?”

‘with a twinge of regret that had nothing to do with food, harry imagined the house-elf busying himself over the steak and kidney pie that harry, ron and hermione would never eat.’

‘not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.’

the sign outside the wreckage of the potters’ house, covered with messages left for harry

the child who had the nerve to say “nice costume, mister!” to mr tom riddle the dark lord voldemort, what an icon

“after you left, she cried for a week. probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see. there were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. with you gone… she’s like my sister, i love her like a sister and i reckon she feels the same way about me. it’s always been like that. i thought you knew.”

“you’ve sort of made up for it tonight, getting the sword. finishing off the horcrux. saving my life.” “that makes me sound a lot cooler than i was” “stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was, i’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”

ron single-handedly fighting off five snatchers by telling them he was stan shunpike

“he must’ve known i’d run out on you.” “no, he must’ve known you’d always want to come back.”

“i just think it’s a bit spookier if it’s midnight!” “yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives”

“death’s got an invisibility cloak?” “so he can sneak up on people, sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking…”

luna decorating her bedroom ceiling with paintings of her friends (i’m not crying, you are)

POTTERWATCH

“we’re all human, aren’t we? every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.”

“i’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit, and i’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.”

hagrid throwing a ‘support harry potter’ party

“the fact remains he can move faster than severus snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to”

“no! you can have me, keep me!” this book went from making me smile to shattering my heart in around three pages

‘hermione was screaming again: the sound went through harry like physical pain.’

ron’s ‘passable imitation of wormtail’s wheezy voice’

“so young, to be fighting so many.”

‘ron said, “blimey, a baby!” as if he had never heard of such a thing before.’

‘he seemed set on course to become just as reckless a godfather to teddy lupin as sirius black had been to him.’

“he was never free, never, the night that your brother died he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. he started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there… it was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”

“i’m going to keep going until i succeed—or i die. don’t think i don’t know how this might end. i’ve known it for years.”

“i got this one for asking her how much muggle blood she and her brother have got.” “blimey, neville, there’s a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.”

“yeah, well, food’s one of the five exceptions to gamp’s law of elemental transfiguration,” said ron, to general astonishment.

“why would harry potter try to get inside ravenclaw tower? potter belongs in my house!”

‘harry heard a little strain of pride in her voice, and affection for minerva mcgonagall gushed up inside him.’

harry using the cruciatus curse on amycus in front of mcgonagall because “he spat at you”

mcgonagall dueling snape and sending a swarm of daggers at him

“where’s professor snape?” “he has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk” minerva i love you

neville throwing mandrakes over the walls

“is this the moment? OI! there’s a war going on here!” “i know, mate, so it’s now or never, isn’t it?”

‘and percy was shaking his brother, and ron was kneeling beside them, and fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.’

‘a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting professor mcgonagall.’

harry stunned the death eater as they passed: malfoy looked around, beaming, for his saviour, and ron punched him from under the cloak. “and that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!”

trelawney using crystal balls to knock out death eaters ‘with a movement like a tennis serve’

“are you a wizard, or what?”

“you must kill me.” “would you like me to do it now? or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?”

‘this cold-blooded walk to his own destruction would require a different kind of bravery.’

‘he was tiny in death.’

‘he felt he would have given all the time remaining to him for just one last look at them; but then, would he ever have had the strength to stop looking?’

“we’re all going to keep fighting, harry. you know that?”

“i am sorry too, sorry i will never know him… but he will know why i died and i hope he will understand. i was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”

“until the very end”

“this is, as they say, your party.” harry had no idea what this meant; dumbledore was being infuriating.

“it is a curious thing, harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.”

“do not pity the dead, harry. pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.”

“of course it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

‘the scream was the more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that professor mcgonagall could make such a sound.’

ron breaking voldemort’s silencing charm “he beat you!”

“i’ll join you when hell freezes over, dumbledore’s army!”

harry calling voldemort tom riddle like “yes, i dare”

‘tom riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken’ where please, movies?

‘mcgonagall had replaced the house tables, but nobody was sitting according to house anymore’

peeves’ song voldy’s gone mouldy

‘tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled harry with the same balm as phoenix song.’

harry FIXING HIS DAMN WAND

“i’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”

“if you’re not in gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you, but no pressure.”

albus complaining that everyone is staring and ron being like “it’s me. i’m extremely famous.”

‘the scar had not pained harry for nineteen years. all was well.’

[iggy-licious]

One Shot: Weekend Chores

This is the first Iggy one shot that I wrote. It's NSFW, smutty. PS, Iggy is called by his real name, Jim, in the story. ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Saturday morning, cleaning time for you. Jim has just wiped the lenses of his wire-frame glasses. He reaches for the weekend newspaper, crosses his legs, and prepares to read.

Both of you are in your usual places for the start of the weekend. You like to wear something provocative to put on a show for him while you clean, and today it’s black cat ears and a studded pet collar, along with your favorite black lace bra and a black thong. He has helped complete your outfit, inserting the plug that leaves a black cat tail hanging suggestively from the entrance to your ass.

He has left behind many of the darkest bits of Iggy Pop from earlier in the decade and is now in what he jokingly refers to as his “normal man” phase, but it's in appearance only, because the uncontrollable, sexy wild man is just below the surface at all times. He's wearing a tennis sweater and jeans, feet bare, as always. His hair is back to its natural darker color, slicked into his best Brylcreem professional man imitation. The short haircut accentuates his angular, masculine face, and the shine of his large, childlike blue eyes is not thwarted by the oversized glasses.

The oddness of the scene turns you on every weekend--Jim, in the role of a fiercely middle-class man savoring every second of mundane activity on a weekend morning, and you, vamping seductively in costume and character. You know it turns him on, too--there have been Saturdays when he’s had to have you and you didn’t get to finish your cleaning--but he always plays nonchalant at first. It’s unnerving how he can turn off his normal chaos cartoon character personality for this indifferent mask of respectability. You know he has considered taking acting classes, and you're confident he'd ace that kind of work.

You make sure to have your back to him as much as possible, as part of the show. You water the ferns and African violets first, then you vacuum the beige carpet in the living room. It doesn’t take much time in the modest Berlin apartment that the two of you share.

When you’re directly in front of him, vacuuming near the coffee table, he rests the newspaper in his lap, palms your ass with one hand, and grabs his coffee with the other for a sip. The way he kneads you causes you to flash back to the feel of his hands on your ass earlier, when he slicked your asshole down with lube and, with the caress of a sinfully teasing finger, prepared you for the plug, if not for his slow, light-handed thrusting with the toy. His unexpected motions caused your hips to buck some more, after you were already on your back, flushed and wet from his expert tongue moments earlier in your pussy. You were close to coming again while he played with your smaller opening, but he said you'd have to wait.

You inhale sharply, enjoying the sexy memory and the feel of Jim’s warm hand on your ass right now.

“I believe there’s more to do, dollface, isn’t there?” He chides you gently with the low rumble of his unmistakably Midwestern accent. He spanks you swiftly. You turn to look at him for a moment and see a momentary flash of mischief in his eyes accompanying his shy smile. “Off you go,” he says. Then, it’s back to the newspaper.

You finish vacuuming and put the appliance back in the bedroom closet. You make a detour to the bathroom for cleaning supplies and then begin wiping all the glass down in the living room. First it’s the television, then the end tables and the coffee table. Jim hums Frank Sinatra tunes the whole time, and it excites you to feel like you’re in some twisted Norman Rockwell painting of the 1950s. But the year is 1977, and your game is certainly not beyond the pale in a place like Berlin.

Jim has finished his coffee and takes the mug to the kitchen. While he’s gone, you turn your cleaning attention to the large window at the side of the sofa. You can’t help but start humming Sinatra.

“You missed a spot,” Jim says of your window cleaning. You turn and see him peering at you from the kitchen. You know by the way he licks his lips that he is ramping up the game. You resume your work, and your lips swell furiously between your thighs in anticipation.

“Show me where you mean?” You call out once you’re facing the window again, playing along.

“One moment, sweetheart,” he calls back in a singsong tone.

You hear his brisk shuffle on the carpet. Once you see his reflection in the window you know that playtime is over. You can’t help but grin when you see his nude body: the lean lines and pops of muscles on his lithe frame, punctuated by the arresting sight of his thick cock. You’re surprised he kept his clothes on for that long. You feel flushed, but you get back to the task at hand, struggling to stay in character at this point.

His reflection makes a beeline for you.

He presses your body into the window with his. You gasp at the feel of the glass against your skin; it’s winter, and you imagine the window feels every bit as cold as it does outside.“Right here,” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to a random spot on the glass, pressing in closer on you. You are now soaked at your core, feeling his lips a hair’s width from your ear and his virile, low voice employed.

“Thank you for pointing that out, dear.” You can’t help phrasing your response this way, as you feel his hardness against you. He knows exactly what you mean.

He wages a silken assault on your neck with his soft kisses. He hums while he does it, and the vibrations and the undeniable masculinity of his tone edge you closer to the point of no return.

He turns you around, taking in the view of your body, gliding his large hands over you in a way he knows is never enough. He tosses his glasses on the sofa and gives you one of his provocative, model-perfect stares before he starts to remove your clothes.

He told you that a few years earlier, someone called him a degenerate with the body of a water polo player. You can see some after-effects of his strung-out, desperate years in his face, but now, during his tenuous recovery, he seems more settled and grounded than the man he's described to you. The man before you is calm, confident, and knowing, and has been head over heels for you, in his own understated way, for the past year.

He smiles. He's ready to devour you. He backs you against the window. He pins you to the spot. Your body rears and arches against the glass as his love bites at your neck and his fingering of your core send you to a place of wantonness. You gasp when his thumb hits your clit, easily gliding over the slick area. He grasps your neck softly with his other hand and kisses you deeply while his contact with your bud becomes more firm.

You tremble against the glass, and moans escape your mouth around his tongue. His dangerous bouts with asthma may have made him small, but he’s certainly as strong as larger men. He grips your neck a little tighter when he knows your climax is near. You’re shaking so much that you’re almost worried about the strength of the glass behind you.

“There’s my girl,” he growls and leers with his perfect smile. His eyes are wide and piercing on you; it’s one of the wild, defiant looks you’ve seen on his face in photos from the earlier concerts.

“Come for me… Come for me…” He chants in a husky whisper. Your sense of being expands at an alarming rate, while you tighten exquisitely at your core.

“Come for me…”

Your body feels like it’s going to burst.

“Come for me...”

You wail and keen. You can’t get enough air. You can’t get enough of the paralyzing euphoria that you’re in.

“Come for me…” You’re trapped in a divine loop of tension that ratchets higher, higher, higher. It feels wrong to call this extreme pleasure misery, but your nerves are going raw from the throbbing at your core, from his grip on you, his cold stare, the cold, hard glass, the thought of enterprising Germans going out into the sunny morning on the street below for the newspaper or a warm breakfast.

It’s too much. You explode inside. You tremble. You howl. Seconds later, your legs are doused with the warm rain of your completion.

You can’t stop shaking, can’t stop your rapid breaths. Jim cups your face with his hands and kisses you as tenderly as he did when the two of you woke up earlier. He gives you his shy smile and embraces you tightly. “That was beautiful,” he murmurs. “You’re beautiful.” His compliment makes you higher than you already are from his ministrations.

He tugs a bit at your cat tail and leers at you again. “Come on, pussy… cat… There’s more of that for you in the bedroom.”

[bluesfortheredj]

“Han Solo? What the heck has Han Solo got to do with Halloween?” you laugh as Richard descends the stairs in his chosen costume.

“Well… It’s just… Dressing up, really,” he shrugs.

“At least I’m something halloweeny...”

“You’re too pretty to be a witch though.”

“Ha! Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That’s the plan,” he winks.

He breezes past you with an air of confidence to get a glass of water before you set off, and you watch him carefully as he leans over to the sink, his snug trousers accentuating his pert bottom, then as he lifts the glass to his mouth with his arm flexing as he bends it. Even though it wasn’t technically on the Halloween theme, you couldn’t really complain at him dressing how he did when it makes him look that hot doing something very mundane, and you suddenly don’t want to leave the house.

“We going then?” he asks as he walks towards you.

“Do we have to?”

“What do you mean ‘do we have to’? You were all excited earlier!” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but that was before I realised you were going to wear that.”

“Oh, you like it now do you?”

“I never said I didn’t like it actually! I merely pointed out that it wasn’t exactly scary, and it is a Halloween party. I do like it, a lot.”

“How much?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow at you knowingly.

“We’re not doing this now, we’ve got a party to go to,” you say defiantly, just about holding your nerve under Richard’s intense gaze.

You take his hand and walk outside just as the taxi comes along, then you both climb into the back seats as Richard tells the driver the address, and as the cab starts to move Richard turns in the seat to look directly at you.

“So, what were you saying earlier about my costume?” he smirks.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” you huff, turning towards the window to hide your smile.

When you arrive at the venue you hesitate as you get out of the taxi; these posh Chelsea houses always made you feel a little insignificant no matter how many times you’d been in them with Richard, and he knew you were feeling uneasy as you stood there looking up at the grand exterior. His hand rests on your lower back gently, then he swoops down and steals a longing kiss before taking your hand and guiding you inside without a word. You greet the hosts then head straight for the bar where you find a couple of Richard’s friends who you’d met before and knew were safe to be yourself around.

“Han Solo?!” Oscar laughs, “it’s Halloween, Richard.”

“That’s exactly what I told him!” you say.

“You could have at least gone for a bad guy...” he continues.

“Darth Vader would have been a good choice if you wanted to stay inconspicuous,” you grin.

“Alright, alright, but how is a sexy witch scary?” Richard retorts, looking at you.

“I’m not a- Oh! Right, that was smooth,” you giggle.

You all stand there chatting as the songs go from bad to worse, then when a Spice Girls hit begins, Tara is quick to grab your hand and pull you into the space that had become a makeshift dance floor. Richard laughs as you give him a worried look but you soon find your rhythm and start to get into the song without a second thought to the people around you.

Richard carries on talking to Oscar but his eyes wander over to you every few seconds, more so when you start to swing the hem of your dress around to reveal the top of the stockings you were wearing. You catch his eye a few times and he pops the collar on his waistcoat with a wink and your knees almost give way at the sight, but you manage to at least get through the second song before returning to his side like a magnet. While Tara then drags Oscar into the middle of the room you take your opportunity to stand in front of Richard and run your hand up and down his thigh slowly.

“Woah! What are you doing?” he gasps, looking around to see if anyone was watching you both.

“We need to get out of here,” you reply as his eyes roll back in his head at your touch.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “okay… yep.”

You run out of the room like naughty teenagers, then you jog down the street to find a cab and jump inside with breathless laughter. Your hands are all over Richard, at least as much as they can be knowing that the driver could see you clearly in his rear view mirror, and he’s giggling at your enthusiasm. He rests his head on the seat to take a look at you and reaches up to place a hand on your cheek before he starts grinning uncontrollably.

“What?” you laugh.

“You,” he sighs happily.

“What about me?”

“I love you.”

“Well I should bloody hope so, because I love you too.”

The cab comes to an abrupt halt and you’re quick to jump out as Richard pays the driver, and by the time he’s caught up with you, you’ve opened the front door and you turn to pull him inside by his shirt. When you’ve kicked the door shut behind you, you can’t help but run your hands up and down his clothed torso as you push him gently against the wall in the hallway, and he bites his bottom lip when you rip open his shirt.

“Look at you!” you almost groan, “fucking hell, you’re so handsome.”

“Stop it!” he laughs nervously as he shrugs off the waistcoat and shirt at the same time.

“You stop it! God, you’re just… Urgh!” you whine, running your fingers through the dense hair that adorned his chest.

He drove you completely wild at the best of times, let alone when he was dressed like this and acting as if it was no big deal. One hand stays on his chest as the other travels up to his neck as you lean in for a kiss, and he meets you before you reach his lips in a passionate exchange. The tables turn on you and you’re soon pushed against the opposite wall by him as his fingers dig into your waist, then he hikes your dress up and pulls it quickly over your head to break the kiss for the least amount of time, but as he leans forward to return his lips to yours, he pauses.

“Where did that come from?!” he asks as he eyes your new underwear set.

“Oh, this old thing?” you smirk.

“Jesus, if I knew that was under there we would never have left the house.”

“I’m going to enjoy watching you take it off me...” you whisper.

“So. Am. I.”

He drops to his knees to pull your stockings down one by one, slipping them off your feet as slowly as he possibly could, then he teases your knickers down your thighs at a pace that makes you whine with how achingly slow it was, and when they’re finally discarded he stands up to carefully take your bra away, making sure the straps were moved only by his teeth as his hands unclipped the back.

“Took your time, didn’t you?” you exhale as he steps back to take in the sight.

You move toward him, but he pushes you back against the wall in silence and quickly pushes his trousers and underwear down to his ankles where he shakes them off. Your mouth opens to speak but his lips soon land on it to hush you, and within a matter of seconds he has his hand hooked under one of your thighs as he lifts it up and he’s sliding inside you with ease after the build up. The soft padding of your backside bounces against the wall with each thrust and when his teeth lightly start to sink into the sensitive skin of your neck you can’t help but let out a loud moan.

“They’ll hear you next door,” he growls.

“Good,” you pant.

A sheen of sweat starts to sprinkle over both of your bodies and soon the hallway is filled with loud expressions of lust as both you and Richard let yourselves go when you begin to reach your climaxes. Richard is first to fall silent as he spills inside you, and you soon follow so that the only sounds left are heavy breathing as his forehead rests on your shoulder and you lean your head back on the wall.

“Next time we’re going to have to make it upstairs,” you say as you get your breath back.

“Why’s that?” Richard asks as he slowly lifts his head.

“Fucking light switch,” you laugh as you step to the side and turn around to show Richard a perfect square imprinted on your back.

“Shit, does it hurt?” he asks, reaching out to carefully glide his fingers over the mark.

“A little,” you chuckle, “but it’ll be a nice reminder every time you see me change.”

“Think I’ll have to take a photo and set it as my background on my phone,” he smirks as you turn back to him.

“I dare you,” you challenge, his hands finding your waist and pulling you against him.

Reader and rm are already in a relationship, Halloween rolls around, they go to a party together, Richard goes as HAN SOLO and reader is like because let's be honest, you know he'd do that look justice. . They go to the party but wind up leaving early because she can't take it anymore, smut ensues. Thank you, and I love your fics so much

@springlady @nkalli @givemeanorigami @teaxcupxcake @pineapplebooboo @itisjustmethistime @parkerplexed @king4thesirens @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @aynsleywalker @koalajayisindabuilding @godohammers @ithoughtiwasflying @lovemelikeyou1997 @mayansthings @lv7867 @nina-sayerz @wolfgirlxslytherin @n3shama @crazy-souless-demon

[09yards]

𝐀𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

• Supposedly, Halloween is the one day of the year when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is the thinnest. • Or, Kun misses Ten, there’s no doubt about that. Kun’s learnt to live life without him, but there will always be a part of him that can’t quite seem to let go.

• also available on ao3

You make me feel like radio static and the fuzz at the edges of old TV screens. You colour my world in moon haze and light creaking through broken blinds. Every footstep by your side is an adventure.

 Kun misses Ten. There’s no doubt about that, it’s a simple fact. He misses his smile, his laugh, the way he held him, the way he looked at Kun. 

 Their story was simple but Kun thinks it must look sad all the same to others. He didn’t like to think of it that way, after all he knew Ten would die one day, he sat by his side through countless hospital visits, carried him up the stairs when he was too exhausted to walk himself, brushed the hair out of his face when the chemo filled Ten with every ounce of pain it could muster.

 Kun learnt to live life without Ten after being by his side for so long. And he’s okay, really. For a while he wasn’t, even when he said he was. He knew Sicheng saw through every single one of his facades but the younger let him be, he knew he needed time. Time is the greatest healer of them all. 

 It’s been two years now and Kun finally feels like he can breathe again. It took a few weeks, more like a few months, for Kun to truly say goodbye. All the days spent bundled under piles of blankets in bed, clutching at whatever piece of Ten he could find. Their apartment felt empty without Ten, void of joy and life. But Kun kept telling himself that one day he’d be okay, he’d find home again.

 Learning to do things without Ten was the hardest. Waking up in the morning and only making one cup of tea as opposed to two, only putting enough bread in the toaster for one, one toothbrush in the bathroom, one side of the bed untouched, grocery shopping for one. It was the small, mundane, mediocre, everyday things that were the hardest. But Kun got through it. Rather than making meals for one, he’d take leftovers or invite their friends over and all of them would drop what they were doing in a heartbeat to make sure Kun was, to make sure he is okay. He couldn’t have done it without them. All the grumbling when they tried to drag him out of bed or attempts at resisting Lucas’s puppy dog eyes to get him out of the flat or Chenle turning up unannounced to play him a new composition he’d learnt.

 Time passed, Kun learnt new things, he moved forward, took each day as it came. Kun began to breathe again.

 ༓࿇༓

 In all honesty, Kun feels stupid. He may as well of said bippity-boppity-boo and been done with it. But still he sits, curled up in his apartment at 10 pm on a Thursday night with a glass of wine in his hand (his second, he’d downed the first before he’d even managed to get out of the kitchen). It’s the expensive kind, the bottle of red he and Ten used to buy for special occasions– not date nights though (arguably a special occasion to Kun but Ten always countered that with a ‘I’d call all the time we spend together a special occasion, if we did that we’d end up broke by the end of the month’). 

 He wasn’t sure what to wear or how to do his hair, does anyone know you’re supposed to ‘look the part’ when you attempt to summon your dead boyfriend across the veil separating the dead and the living? It’s not exactly something he’s prepared to google. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this.

 Is this even going to work? Is Ten watching him from beyond the grave, laughing at how clueless he is?

  Does Ten even want to see him?

 The weirdest part of all is somehow not the actual trying to communicate with the dead, but that he’s actually listening to Yangyang. Of all people, he’s trusting Yangyang. Maybe that’s the first red flag that Kun has truly lost his marbles, but why not lose a few more while he’s at it, continue on whatever downward spiral you need to be on that you’re trying to contact those beyond the grave. He's really believing Yangyang that people can cross the veil between the living and the dead. 

 According to him, Yangyang had learnt about finding ways to get closer to the dead in his philosophy class (seriously, what were they being taught these days?) and decided to share it with Kun in the hopes it’d help him finally take that next step in moving on with his life. He'd spent hours going on and on about the veil between the worlds of the dead and the living, explaining what simply, sounded like nonsense to Kun, but had sparked his interest when he mentioned being able to see the loved ones you lost again. Kun had moved on, he didn’t shed tears day after day anymore, he hardly ever got two mugs out instead of one. He was doing well. But he couldn’t completely let go.

 He wasn’t sure he ever would, he doesn’t know how to exist in a world where he doesn’t love Ten.

 There’s still pieces of Ten filtering through their (he never calls it just ‘his’) apartment, miscellaneous nick-nacks Ten picked up from market stalls on their travels, unpaired earrings Ten seemed to leave all over the place, paintings hung on the walls with Ten’s small signature in the corner, Ten’s clothes still hung up, left completely untouched in their wardrobe.

  Kun’s really doing this, he’s really about to try and summon a ghost. 

 Before he does anything else, he swallows another large gulp of wine and then another, before lighting the candles. There’s a mix of lavender and a faint spice Kun never learnt the name of, those were always Ten’s favourite and that seems to be one of the things he hasn’t let go of yet, the scent still filling his apartment day by day. A subtle but potent reminder of Ten, of his presence. 

 The candles are lit, the glass of wine placed with wobbly hands on the table next to him. He closed his eyes, thinking that’d make some kind of difference. Kun mutters the words Yangyang had told him to, they’re something foreign, a language Kun doesn’t recognise. He thinks he must be going mad when he’s jolted out of his trance by a knock at his front door. He thinks it couldn’t be any more cliché, not that he’s actually expecting Ten to be there. In fact he’s fairly certain it’s going to be a drunk Xuxi crying about how beautiful Renjun looked in whatever costume he decided on for the party they were throwing tonight. 

 What he doesn’t expect is to be greeted with an all too familiar smile, an all too familiar person leaning against the door frame like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

 “Hello my love, aren’t you going to let me in?” There’s a smirk on his face and  god, Kun missed that smirk, Ten’s eyes sparkle as he lets out a slight laugh with it, Kun missed the way it makes his heart skip a beat. He’s never felt more alive in the last two years than he does right now, staring with his jaw hung low at his lover. His boyfriend, looking so lifelike. Kun thinks his mind must be playing tricks on him, he must’ve had more wine than he thought.

 Kun steps aside, holding the door open, watching intently as Ten walks through, standing in their  living room like he never left. Kun’s head spins a little, he sits down and tries to speak but no words come out.

 There’s a pause, a lul as neither of them knew what to say until Kun seems to be teaching himself how to talk again.

 “Holy shit. I didn’t think this would actually work,” Kun let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, somehow regaining the ability to speak again. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

 Kun feels a warm hand caress the side of his face and he looks into Ten’s eyes as Ten steps closer to where Kun’s seated, the same eyes he fell in love with all those years ago.

 “Oh Kun, my love, I miss you so much. You know I’m always watching over you.”

 “I can feel you touching me and I can touch you and oh my god- this feels so real. I love you, I love you, I love you. I never told you I loved you enough.”

 “Yes you did my love, you told me everyday, you still tell me every day.”

 “I love you, I never want to let go.”

 Ten sat down next to Kun, tangling himself in the pile of blankets, like he always used to. Kun watches him with a smile on his face that can only be described as fond and adoring.  

 “Kun-Kun, I’m sorry, this is going to end, I have to go back.”

 “I know, I know, just- just let me pretend for a little bit? Let me pretend like you never left and that I still get to wake up with you in my arms?” 

 “Okay love, I can do that for you.” Ten leans down, fidgeting a little so his head is resting against Kun’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. The gentle metronome grounding him. Kun’s hands move instinctively, one caressing the patch of exposed skin where Ten’s shirt has lifted slightly with his movement, the other running through Ten’s hair. And  god, it’s like he never went, his hair is still as fluffy as it had always been and there’s the faint scent of whatever spice it is from his shampoo, Kun never remembers the name, only that it’s not cinnamon. Ten always hated cinnamon, he would complain every Christmas about how it spoils gingerbread, begging Kun to make some specially for him, no cinnamon.  

 “You can’t waste all your love on me Kun,” Ten sighs, interrupting the silence they’d been basking in. “You’ve got the rest of your life ahead of you. Move on, fall in love with some pretty young thing and have the family you always wanted. You don’t deserve to be pining after me for years to come, you deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

 Kun’s crying now, just a little, the tears rolling down his cheeks and dampening the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since he last cried over Ten, it only makes him miss him more, despite the fact he can feel Ten’s weight on his lap.

 “Don’t worry about me anymore, Kun. I get to live the life where we get our happily ever after but for you, in this universe, you’ll end up happy with someone else. I promise you that and I promise you I’ll never stop loving you.”

 “I’ll never stop loving you either.”

 “I know my love, I know. But you can’t let that hold you back from falling in love with someone else. You deserve to be happy.”

 “But you’re the one Ten. I got my soulmate and you died and that’s the end of our story. I had my one chance at the whole ‘great big love story’.”

 “I’m only ‘the one’ until you find the next one. Trust me baby, I know more than you could ever imagine.”

 “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save you. I was supposed to be by your side, supposed to protect you and I- I couldn’t even keep you alive. I failed, I- I broke my promises.”

 “I’m happy Kun. I’m here, I’m alive in my own way. Here I am, sitting with you like nothing changed. I’m not in pain anymore. How is that failure, my love? You couldn’t change anything, I knew that before I met you.” Ten lent forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “I love you, I’ve always loved you. You took care of me even when I was at my worst. You gave me a light in a world I thought would be dark for the rest of my time on this godforsaken Earth.”

 “I’ll always ask for a little more time, I know you can’t give it to me but you know I love you. I will love you until the end of the earth.”

 “I love you too.”

 ༓࿇༓

 Kun wakes up to the harsh light of the morning sun filtering in through the cracks in the blinds. He has to crick his neck from sleeping on the sofa, he knows his back is going to hurt the moment he wakes up but it was worth it. They laughed, smiled and cried while they felt normal for a slither of time. Ten asking questions about Lucas and Renjun or if Chenle’s keeping up with his piano lessons from Kun. Kun wants to ask why Ten wants to know when Ten’s already admitted to watching over him, keeping tabs on their friends. Kun wants to ask why, why Ten came to see him again. He wants to ask how, he tries to resist the temptation. Kun doesn’t ask, he lets himself enjoy Ten’s company, while it lasts.

 He doesn’t know if it was real, he’ll never know if it’s real or just something he dreamed of in a way to cope with missing Ten. Kun will never know the truth but he prefers it that way. He smiles to himself, no matter what– Ten knows Kun loves him, Kun knows Ten loves him, wherever they may be, however far apart they are.

 Kun got to be an inch from heaven and for that he will be eternally grateful.

 Kun doesn't know how to live in a world where he doesn't love Ten, and he never will. 

 When he finds the motivation to get up and trudge into the kitchen there’s a post-it Kun doesn’t remember putting up;

‘I love you. Take care of yourself my love, until next year.”